spoiler alert: i'm an asshole

holy crap ya'll.

what is even going on in the world right now?

i found myself struggling to write again this week.

day late.

again.

but this time is different.

i have been avoiding writing this week, not just unable to figure something out.

noticing the difference is important for me.

avoidance means i'm starting to slip a little.

when things go to shit, when i *SHOULD* be writing the most is when i tend to stop writing. historians all over are recommending everyone keep a journal right now. yes, every day is history, but especially right now, EVERY. DAY. IS HISTORY. the more voices we have recording it, the more accurate of a story we can tell later one. all the perspectives and experiences for future us to learn from.

i know this.

i'm recognizing this and not allowing myself to fall back into old patterns.

so, yeah.

i've been avoiding writing.

which means all this EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE junk is getting to me more than i'm acknowledging.

and if you don't acknowledge it, you can't deal with it.

ugh.

it is such a pain in my ass recognizing bad habits and making myself change my behaviors.

THIS IS HARD.

here we go.

this virus shit is scary and confusing and boring. as. fuck.

i don't know you can be bored and actively terrified at the same time, but welcome to the next few months.

i think that's the thing i'm having the hardest time with. i can't imagine anything lasting 6 weeks. as fast as our new cycle turns lately it feels like in a few days they'll (i don't know who "they" is) suddenly be like OOPS. TYPO. OUR BAD. and everything will just go back to normal.

but i know that's not the case.

i have friends teaching abroad in china that have already been on lock down since the beginning of the year. i've watched them adapt and figure out grocery deliveries. and how to teach from home. and art projects. they've made it. they're reaching the end.

and i have friends in seattle that are already a week ahead of where spokane is. they've already been on lock down. they've figured out how to support restaurants and grocery shop and they got a head start on figuring out schools and online symphonies and co-op virtual education and they're all helping each other make sure all the kids are getting fed and everyone is ok.

and now it's here in spokane. i have friends in self quarantine after known exposure, to help reduce risk. and the city is starting to figure it out a little bit. and we have a mayor who was a journalist for her entire career. she is very good at press conferences and assuring the public and i, i hope, actual journalism and research and fact finding and accurate reporting. i want to believe her in a time when it's hard to believe in any politician. and at work we've shifted to almost, i think, 50% work from home. several of the local restaurants are figuring out how to shift their business model to stay open. some are closing for the interim (my whisky wednesday spot is one of the latter). local grocery stores are actually HIRING to keep up with demand which maybe means some displaced service industry workers can find almost the same schedule work, late night/early morning stocking and baking.

we'll get there. as a whole, i believe we'll get there.

and then there's me.

i'm still at the office for now.

nothing has changed at home. 

i'm a pretty low risk person so my anxiety has been manageable. i go to work and go home. i don't have anyone i spend a significant amount of time with that i'm worried about infecting. it's me and stella. i do my groceries by pick up orders, same for basic supplies from target. it will be sad to say good bye to whisky wendesday, but, i mean, the whole purpose of whisky wednesdays was to make me go out where the people are. and that's cancelled. so. even one less thing to stress about. can't make myself feel terrible for staying in, again, when we're literally ordered to stay in.

there's 1001 memes around the internet about how it's the introvert's time to shine.

no thanks. you can keep the spotlight and just leave me the fuck alone.

i have always STRUGGLED to understand people who can't sit still.

2 hour wait at the doctors office? meh. binge watching an entire season on netflix without moving (besides to shift positions)? typical. not leaving the house from friday evening til monday morning? do you know how hard i have to work to NOT do that? it takes me from friday night after work to convince myself to go out on sunday evening sometimes.

so really, nothing has changed for me.

i only buy basic supplies every few months anyway since it's only me. i buy 2 packs of things when i can because that's how it works when you're broke: buy it when you can (and the value packs are cheaper! thanks colgate!).

i bought groceries but i still hate to cook.

i think i'm having some sort of weird preemptive survivors guilt? which possibly means i just jinxed myself. congratulations to the beneficiaries of my will.

i feel guilty that i work for a great corporation, my health insurance has kicked in, we haven't been laid off, they're actively working with employees to make sure everyone has what they need during this. 

i feel guilty that i'm done being a mom. i don't have to worry about school being cancelled. i don't have to worry about a grocery bill tripling. i don't have to worry about another person if a quarantine does happen. it feels incredibly selfish and terrible to feel so relived.

i'm glad i got knocked up at 17. if i had waited and had kids NOW? omg. i know that's such an asshole thing to say when i know so many people that DO have kids right now. i am so so so sorry, but i am so glad it's not me. FUCK i'm an asshole.

but at the same time, i went through Y2K when my oldest son was a toddler. and 9/11 the next year. i went through all the viruses since 2003 with BOTH of them, and they were both sick- one respiratory and one without vaccines (after a reaction, he's caught up now). also, we went through literal death and fire.

i know what living through sheer terror as a parent is. i'm sorry you're all experiencing it now, but i am so relieved my turn at the post is over.

ya'll remember y2k? when the world was going to end? and banks were going to collapse? and the world as we knew it was going to grind to a screeching halt? and people were stockpiling water and supplies? and, i don't know, taking your baby's bottle liners and stuffing each liner with $100 bill, rolling it all back up, and tucking it away? and people were encouraging you to really consider murder suicide since you had a small child and you wouldn't want them to have to survive the end of times? maybe it was a little more traumatic since i worked at a power plant at the time. or maybe because i had a bat shit crazy evangelical mother.

who knows.

but i know i'm spending too much time on social media. i can feel my mental health starting to crack the more i read the headlines and the fighting and the blaming and the lying around and around in circles.

i wish there was a way to just ignore all the news, ALL OF IT until someone shoots off an all clear flare.

like italy can just all turn off the news until further notice and when things are all clear the Vatican will send out a puff out green smoke.

ya'll just stay home and wait for the signal.

(btw: has anyone checked on the vatican? that's the THE central gathering place of super old dudes.)

i grew up in a town where every day at noon the fire whistle would go off. the entire town could hear it.

let's go back to that.

but it still feels like i'm stuck in this cone of silence. like everything is happening around me and i'm just...here. it's incredibly surreal.

i'm going to bed tonight at a reasonable-ish time (face care is already done, as soon as i wrap this up i'm out like a light.)

i'll go to work tomorrow.

i'll come home from work tomorrow.

i'm hang out til bedtime.

i'll get up and go to work the next day...

and then it will be a weekend.

and then another week.

i'm bored.

while the world is ending around me.

fuck i'm an asshole.

where's my super suit?

last week i vague posted to facebook mentioning that it had been a rough week and i could use some support.

i don't like vaguebooking, but i wasn't quite ready to dump my brain at that point and really did need something, someone. SOME interaction.

this week i was able to meet up with one of my favorite people, someone who listens without judgement, HEARS what i'm saying, and doesn't sugar coat or water down responses either way- if i'm being ridiculous or if i'm being real. it's hard to know sometimes when it's just your voice on a loop in your head. sometimes real things can take on a ridiculous tangent unintentionally, or after a series of too many things it can start to seem like maybe you're just being too sensitive if THIS MANY THINGS are causing distress.

this week over drinks and dinner she let me take my time getting around to what i needed to say, no judgement, no laughing, no walking away out of disgust or annoyance or triviality or anything.

and as i've continued to process and reevaluate and look at every different angle and possibility and the usual overthinking junket my brain goes on, i've gone back and forth about whether or not it's worth writing about, if anyone else would care, if it's dumb to put my petty little problems out there.

because that's what i worry about. not about the actual problems (well, those too, but not mainly). i worry about annoying people by talking about my problems. i don't want to be trivial or a burden or the person that everyone rolls their eyes when i say there's something going on becasue drama, drama, drama. i don't want to repeat myself, which happens ALL THE TIME in my brain (and in my journal). i don't want people to be like "ugh. this again?" because that's how i feel ALL THE TIME about myself.

but this particular series of crap was BIG. and, i don't know, two weeks out and i'm still having a hard time not getting emotional about it, so it IS big. even if just to me. and maybe it's happening to someone else, and i don't want ANYONE else to feel this way, so maybe getting it out there will let one other person know it's not just them. and if even ONE other person doesn't have to feel this? WORTH IT.

i have finally found my super power, and it's a SHITTY one.

i have the power of invisibility.

and trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be.

the signs have been there for a while. all the stood up dates, all the times bartenders have blatantly ignored me, the million and two times i've repeated myself to the teenager.

it became crystal clear at the seattle erotic art festival two weeks ago.

i had been looking forward to the event ALL YEAR. last year was amazing. the performances, the sculptures, the photos, drawings, literature, interactive pods, ALL OF IT. the crowd was a gorgeous mix of anyone and everyone at every kink and security level. some people walking around in next to nothing with just pasties on. some people in gorgeous bondage corsets, costumes, gimp suits, stilts, drag, regular clothes. EVERYTHING. it was this mismash of people from every background imaginable i'm sure, all gathered together in a place of mutual acceptance to celebrate sexuality in all forms in a safe space. it's what we were ALL there for, so no judgement, no sideways looks, just people being people.

i was SO EXCITED to go back this year. the ONE PLACE the tattooed fat girl who loves art and music and creativity and sexuality can fit in. the ONE PLACE i wouldn't feel like the freak because i start "those" conversations. the ONE PLACE i could openly admire women and men. the ONE PLACE i could belong.

and i planned the weekend, marked it on the calendar, made a hotel reservation, followed the twitter account and watched the artist selection be announced and the lead up happen and the posts of the whole weekend kicking off and the schedule of all the different parts and pieces.

i drove to seattle (with the teenager and three of his friends...they were attending a concert). i wore a little black dress, did my hair, put on bold red lipstick, took a lyft to the event center.

i went inside and ALL THE ART. oh my god. ALL THE ART. everything you can imagine. photos of legos doing bondage play. a d-rex battling a tri-cera-cocks. a storm trooper doing suspension bondage. live demonstrations of suspensions. live drag/costume/shoe contests. poetry readings. electric play demonstrations. a piercing suspension (can't watch, i can feel too much of the pain. thanks empathic abilities). it was another AMAZING show. there was a huge crowd of people wandering all over, taking it all in.

and i was invisible.

three hours. i walked around for three hours. i looked at ALL the art work, every single piece. multiple times. a massive wall piece of sheet metal air brushed in perfect patterns then stained and sealed to make a gorgeous textured/colored vagina. the craftsmanship and skill to so carefully manage the metal air brushing strokes and get the stain in exactly the right places...it was gorgeous.

i walked around for three hours. THREE HOURS. not one person said a thing to me.

i was invisible.

people would literally bump into me and not even say anything. i would try to start conversations and people would walk away mid sentence.

the ONE PLACE i thought i would fit in and not only did i NOT fit, i didn't even exist.

i'm not a petite girl. i don't blend in very well. i was in a sleeveless dress which means ALL my tattoos were visible. even people in the taco bell drive thru notice my tattoos.

and NOTHING. i didn't exist.

fuck man. that was a kick to the gut. the event i had been waiting a full year for. the place i thought i would find my tribe. the place i thought i could be myself and talk to people and make connections.

fuck.

that hurt.

(**IMPORTANT NOTE: this was not, in any way, the fault of the art festival, just my own issue. if you get a chance next year or any year, GO TO THE FESTIVAL. it's amazing. the artwork is outstanding and there's classes, demonstrations, workshops, it really, really outstanding.**)

the next night my oldest son wanted to meet up and talk. we've been communicating a little more via text recently...not just the usual "i need money" texts. i haven't had the opportunity to SEE him in several years. things haven't been smoothing sailing since he moved to seattle, to put it lightly. and he wanted to meet up in a hookah lounge in seattle and talk. i was so excited. i was going to actually get to meet one of his girlfriends and get to see him and just...hang out.

it didn't exactly go that way. he spent 45 minutes dressing me down, calling me a liar, saying every horrible thing he could think of, demanding i tell him details about things that have happened to me so he could "decide if it's real or not." he tore me apart for never dating but dating the wrong people in the same sentence. he said some terrible, horrible things about the death of his step mother/baby brother that...holy fuck. if he even said half of it or implied any of those thoughts to his dad...no wonder things are so terrible between them right now. it was bad. it was REALLY, REALLY bad. after 45 minutes of spewing every venemous, terrible thing, he told me that i could contact him when i'm "ready to finally tell the truth and stop beating around the bush," then he walked out on me. the kid that used to yell at me for telling too much truth and answering all his questions, as honestly and age appropriately as possible, now calling me a liar and walking out on me.

fuck.

strike two.

that's a really fucking shitty back to back.

that's a one-two punch that left my ears ringing a little bit.

so i came home after the weekend and tried to process as much as possible.

oh, and my therapist is out of the office until july recovering from surgery. just a fun little side note.

so. i'm processing. functioning. struggling. REALLY, REALLY struggling.

then my brother called for his monthly check in.

why do i even answer those calls? especially after a shitty weekend like that?

it's all fine until he hears me refer to our mother by her proper name. she's no longer a "mom" to me. she's just a person i (barely) know, so i refer to her by name. he literally laughed at me. LAUGHED. AT. ME. "that sounds so weird. why do you call her that?" because she hasn't been a great person to me. "oh, i just thought you had issues with her husband, not her." DO YOU EVER LISTEN DUDE? i've said the same. damn. thing. every. single. time. this. comes. up.

so i try to explain it again. "oh. i didn't know any of that."

yeah. thanks for not listening to me. ever.

brought to you by the same brother that was shocked when i wrote a short story for his son a few years ago. "when did you start writing?" WHEN I COULD HOLD A PENCIL. thanks for noticing me, ever, in our childhood.

the power of invisibility. it started young. apparently.

and it just...it sucks, you know?

and i'm not a very social person. i don't keep hoards of friends. and i'm not great about keeping in touch with the ones i do have. and i ALWAYS feel like a burden when i try to make plans...my schedule has NOTHING and i always feel like it's such a pain in the ass to try to arrange meet ups because other people actually have lives, and so i just don't do it. i don't want to make them feel bad for being busy. so i just...don't. and when i do go out...i just...don't fit in. i'm the awkward one that's moderately tolerated. i'm good for bringing the weird factor, the inappropriate stories.

and so i just sink further into invisibility.

it's just me and the puppy at home every night and i'm not sure if you know this or not, but no matter how stoned you get, puppies don't talk back.

and i HAVE people. i know i do. but they all live in my phone. i know if i really need to i can text, snapchat, message, tweet people and chat. and they are all AMAZING people that i am so lucky to know. they're positive and supportive and really, really just beautiful people.

but that doesn't really...i mean...it doesn't really help with the invisibility thing. you know?

and so, here it is. i'm struggling.

i feel like i don't exist outside making sure the teenager has food and money, the puppy gets fed and walked, and all the necessary papers get shuffled at my jobs.

PLEASE DON'T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY OR READ INTO IT: I'M NOT IN A DANGEROUS PLACE: i'm really, really not.
but if i just disappeared, road trip to mexico style, would anyone *really* notice?

if i just attached a teardrop trailer to the back of the jeep and started driving...it may be inconvenient for a few people for a day or two...but then?

and i know. find a group! volunteer! get out there! meet people!

yeah. we all know how good i am at that. you mean like just going to the concerts alone? or the art exhibits? dinner and a movie? maybe try speed dating? puppy play dates? community events at my apartment? maybe i should start a book club? what about trying an app to meet new people? you know they have ones for just making friends now, right? maybe if i have TWO jobs it will double the circle of people i interact with and get to know, right?

or would all that just give me a chance to see how my invisibility cloak looks with several different pair of shoes?

spoiler alert: it's the shoe thing.

so. i'm still processing. i'm trying to find new solutions. i'm still plugging along.

but if anyone else out there stumbles across my random corner of the internet and sees this: you're not the only one. you're not invisible. you do exist. you do matter. and i know, exactly, how hard that may be to believe. but don't stop trying to believe it. I SEE YOU. maybe you can recognize the shimmer on my cloak the way i can see the shimmer on yours. i don't know where i belong. i haven't found my place yet. but i'm not giving up the thought that maybe some day i will. maybe i'll find a space where i really belong with people who see me. it's out there for everyone. so me of us just have to look a little harder. and i'm going to keep looking.

just...don't

2015 has been a strange, mean, bland, weird year.

i can't even remember most of the year...at least in specifics. there's large blocks: remember when i was doing music interviews and writing and getting my creative life off the ground again? remember spring and summer shoved full of baseball? remember when i had a roommate? remember the NEVER ENDING football season? and now, here we are. the last days of another calendar.

this year has been and endless march across digital screens of all new ways to be a failure in life. aside from the million lists of "you've been using (insert every. single. item. in your house) wrong!" there's also all the people- celebrities, you tube stars, writers, seemingly everyone letting me know i'm not even loving myself right. if i hate the body i'm in, SHAME ON ME. self love! self acceptance! fat is beautiful! accept all bodies the way they are! don't change a thing!

if i want to change and be healthy it's a traitorous act- why can't you just love and accept yourself as you are? learn to love the person in the mirror! don't give into society's standards of thin is beautiful! fat trader! you're *supposed* to love all your lumps and bumps and "curves" (trust, there's no "curve" here, just...blobs).

if i want to stay the same then i know i'm not being my most healthy self. and i know how "simple" it would be to just do all those nine billion 5 minute a day workouts to have perfect abs and perfect calves and perfect butt shape and perfect obama arms. IT'S JUST FIVE MINUTES. and HOW HARD is it to eat right? what do you mean you don't have an endless bank account to buy all these super trendy super organic miracle foods (that you have no idea to cook and even if you did and the child in your house wouldn't touch, so you'd have to cook two meals every night)? just sell a kidney go to whole foods! (where would i sell a kidney? and where is there even a whole foods??).

shamed if you do, shamed if you don't. 

this has also been a banner year for depression. i didn't have any particular inclination to meet other parents at all the sports things. i'm lousy at best at maintaining friendships. at worst...well...that's about where i am right now. there's nothing quite like spending christmas evening in a bar being invited to random hotel to smoke pot and watch porn by a stranger (true story) to remind you how completely and totally alone you've made yourself. still, better than sitting at home in the total silence realizing that not one person, friend, or family offered an invitation and, because you're completely terrible at being a human, you didn't reach out to anyone to ask. if there's one thing that stuck from all the lessons my mum drilled into me, it's that you NEVER, ever, under any circumstances, invite yourself over to someone else's house. that is the epitome of rude and presumptuous.

and i know, trust me, i KNOW: if you don't like your story, CHANGE IT!

oh, just change it!

OF COURSE.

just change it!

tired of being alone at the holiday? open your home to other lonely people! start an "island of misfits" tradition and have people over for games and drinks and...wait...oh yeah.  done that for the last 5 years and the only person that took me up on it is the now ex-roommate. 

well, just get out there and make some new friend! like...in the evenings...when you're too broke to even get a $2 pbr...and the kid freaks out and starts to destruct if you're not home every night...and bars aren't the best places to make friends...

join a gym! meet people AND get healthy at the same time! oh. yeah. except that crazy huge sign up fee and the monthly fees, and, again, the being away from home causing the spawn to destruct...so take the spawn! oh...extra fees...wait...

holy peter. this isn't that hard woman. just...volunteer somewhere! you know you have evenings and weekends totally free. when you're not running errands. or trying to keep things together at home. or when you're not crippled with social anxiety and depression. oh, and remember not to get too involved and attached when you do volunteer...remember how badly that's ended the last...every...time you've tried.

there's a reason the most remembered phrase from my dad is "you can't save the world kid." oh the countless times i've been screwed over or screwed myself over trying to help people.

what do you like to do? read? well, that's not very social. but how about a book club? a reading? a writers circle? the local book stores post readings and signings and book clubs. JUST TRY ONE (which i will, this saturday).

just keep swimming. just keep looking. just keep trying. just keep surviving. just keep going.

just. keep. going.

i think one of the best but hardest things has been seeing the youngest kiddo transition into jr high and battle the same things that i battled then (and still battle now).

do you remember how mean and scary lunch was if you didn't have a group you belonged to? how fitting in was *THE* most important thing? and i never did. i didn't fit at all. and i so desperately don't want that for my kid. i don't want him eating alone at a table. i don't want him wandering the hallway battlefields with no allies. we got into baseball...but none of those kids are in his school. we did football...a few of the kids are in his school but they don't have any classes or lunch together. and so i give in and let him get the trendy "jogger" sweats even though they are just ridiculous overpriced sweats with designs on them (no they aren't mom, look how much cooler they are). i make sure he has extra stuff in his locker- gum, mints, a few extra dollars for a drink from the vending machine. small tokens he can offer as olive branches. i tried like hell to get him to keep a few tampons in his locker to be a girl ally...that didn't go over so well. if only he knew...

we keep working on stepping outside the "cool" kids and talking to other kids that are maybe sitting alone feeling like they don't fit in anywhere. there's more to talk about than sports. talk about a netflix show or movie you like. a book you read. a comic that you like. your dog. your skateboard. or, just LISTEN. find out what other kids like, what they're interested in. and he's trying. and i know how hard it is, but i REALLY, REALLY don't want him to be like me. this socially awkward loner that spends the holidays cleaning the grooves of the coffee table with a chlorox wipe and a toothpick (again, true story).

he sees me at home, sees me frustrated and angry and sad and doesn't understand what it is. how can i explain depression to him without scaring him or putting undue burden on him? how can i explain that i want him to learn to be better than me? i want him to have friends. i want him to work hard for things. i want him to not be entitled. i want him to have better experiences and memories. i don't want him to learn depression. i don't want him to lean isolation and loneliness. i don't want him to spend his whole life looking for something that isn't there.

i feel like aside from all the sports that's what 2015 has been for me. isolation and failure and social awkwardness. and i don't want that for him. hell, i don't want that for me any more. i just...don't.

jack-o-lantern smile

perhaps it's fitting that this week is halloween because i feel like a jack-o-lantern: hollow on the inside, missing most of my (metaphorical) teeth and waiting to either be forgotten and rot away or be smashed to bits by someone who either thinks its fun to destroy things or doesn't even really put any thought into what they're doing.

it's been a helluva few months.

this year started off with so much promise- writing, publishing, goals, THINGS. but life is what it is, time flies past before you even notice, and in the blink of an eye the universe has dumped you in a back alley at midnight, battered and bruised just waiting for the dawn of another year to start again fresh.

"if i can just make it through a few more months..."

then what? the mark of a new year doesn't signal a magic want to hit the refresh button. another few months are simply another few months leading to another few months.

i don't mean this to sound like a depressing spiral of time into nothingness. it's actually, twistedly, my attempt to remind myself that there is no magical restart button and i need to get my shit together NOW and quit waiting for...whatever. there is no sparkle glitter rainbow day on the calendar that makes adulting suddenly easy and manageable. there is no jackpot day that you land on that suddenly makes all your bills go away and your bank account never empty.

i'm not sure what adulting looks like right now besides barely managing to keep food in the house (really, grocery shopping is such a pain in the ass ordeal) and binge watching horrible shows on netflix (how the fuck did bones make it past the first season??)

i have a very limited social circle. i have a hard time spending money in bars to drink with strangers i have zero desire to interact with. i'm tired of going to events alone as talking to or mingling with strangers is just awkward at best, traumatizing (for them) at worst. i've survived several sports seasons now interacting with other parents only as necessary/required.

i'm heading into winter, aka depression season, felling the most damaged and alone as i have in a LONG time.

oddly though, i also feel fine. i've been (mostly) remembering to take my vitamins including a TON of vitamin D, i've been doing things for myself, allowing impulse buys as the budget allows, i'm doing ok. i'm just doing it alone.

a few months back i had someone ask if he could move in for a bit while he sorted things out after a break up. we were (i thought) good friends, knew each other well enough, and i had extra space, so why not? it quickly went downhill VERY fast for several reasons. i'm not used to living with anyone besides my kids. i've never had to have a roommate. for the very short time i was married he worked nights and i worked days and we barely saw each other. i knew it would be an adjustment, but i didn't know it would be so destructive and toxic. end of the day it turns out that i am...how did it go...uncommunicative, unwelcoming, and my house is unlivable/disgustingly dirty all the time. the overall experience ended up being costly- lost one of the very few people i counted as a friend and damaged a friendship with another who got caught in the crossfire of being my sounding board/his employee.

around the same time, the magazine i had been working for back at the beginning of the year contacted me again and asked me to write a few more pieces for them (apparently writers who work for free aren't as abundant as they thought). they wanted a few album/EP reviews. second verse, same as the first. last time they stopped asking me to contribute after i pushed back on a band they wanted to run as a cover story that i felt gave a horrible interview and took the whole process a bit too flippantly (including a separate on-air interview). this time around i apparently didn't make it known well enough that the reviews were my opinion, and came across as too harsh and negative in the reviews. my final assignment was for an artist interview that i was not comfortable doing as i knew it would end up almost exactly like the last interview. instead of wasting my time and the artists time and continue fighting a losing battle over my pieces, i instead tendered my resignation at the magazine. it was the only writing i had done in a while and the loss was not insignificant.

finally, the last few weeks have been a mess of doctors appointments and tests and major levels of panic. know how doctors warn women about breast cancer ALL THE TIME? and don't forget breast cancers ugly cousin, inflammatory breast cancer! so when i noticed itching, lactating, overnight increase in cup size, and general overall pain...cue panic. and doctors tests. and sleepless nights wondering who was going to take care of my kid if i had to be down any time at all. and stress about how i would afford medical bills when i can barely afford medical co-pays. and even a particularly depressing call to my mother to ask for family history since no one talks about ANYTHING. after blood work, a mammogram, and an ultrasound i was sent home with a resounding YOU'RE FINE but no actual answers aside from that. so yay, no cancer, but what the fuck?

none of these events are particularly traumatic. they're concerning. they're disheartening. they're panic inducing. they're hard. they messed with my self esteem, self image, sense of security and talent/ability. made me question myself at core levels. they've kicked me in the teeth and tipped my maslow's scale in all different directions and caused a general upheaval, but not a destructive hurricane.

but when you add them together they get bigger. and when they're in this giant lump and i'm staring at it, alone, with no one to talk to or help me pick it apart...it becomes hurricane potential.

my brain is this great and powerful beast. i'm smart. i can carry on intelligent conversations. i can remember details and facts with high accuracy. i can figure out problems and come up with solutions.

but: this beast never sleeps. it never turns off. it runs the same problems through over, and over and over again like a one of those fucking asshole DVD's that plays the start menu and the same crappy song on a continuous loop without ever shutting off but unlike the DVD there's not even a power button or an eject button to make all the noise go away (or even change to a different DVD). i think and rethink and dissect and analyze and review and consider and play out a million different options and endings. i retrace my steps and my processes looking for errors and way to improve or not fuck up again.

and when you're in that loop without a sounding board. when you're stuck with no one to talk to. when you just have your own never ending thoughts running full speed, all the time...it's lonely. and exhausting. it's destructive if you let it be, which, when you're exhausted happens all too easily. it's a bone weary exhaustion. there's no amount of sleep that can fix it because this stupid brain remembers exactly where it left off. you recharge or feel good for a few minutes but then it just all slips away and you don't even know what happened. i can leave work in a great mood, plenty of energy, but in my 15 minute drive home i think about grocery shopping, football practice, scraping together dinner after football practice without causing bed time to be too late, a call from the school, the chore chart that the kid has been ignoring, oh shit, school pictures are this week, i shouldn't have splurged on the manicure when school pictures are happening, oh fuck, did we remember to take the redbox movies back? oh wait, we didn't get red box movies, that was a few weeks ago. OH FUCK- did we take the ones back from a few weeks ago? i shouldn't be watching movies anyway. i should be reading books or writing. but my writing is shit anyway, so why bother writing at all? damn it, it's monday, i have a therapy appointment this afternoon and just missed the exit. why the fuck can i never remember where i'm going or when i have to be there? what am i even going to talk about at therapy this week? why am i even going to therapy if i don't know what i'm going to talk about? i'm probably just going to end up crying again over nothing and go home with a headache. i mean YEAH, it helps. and she helps me figure out what i need to talk about, but it's really just wasting her time. i'm sure there's people that need the appointment more than me. but, it's not like i would be doing anything at home anyway. might as well go. the next episode of greys anatomy can wait. i've already seen them all anyway. since i don't have a life. not like i have any pressing social engagements on my calendar...EVER. how lame are you that you NEVER have anything on your calendar besides kids doctors appointments and sports events? maybe if you weren't such a socially maladjusted freak you'd be able to make and keep a friend and then you would have somewhere to go and your therapist wouldn't be the one stuck listening to you all the time. that's right. the only person that listens to you is one you have to PAY to do it. maybe i should talk about that this week...

and so by the time i pull into my garage, in just 15 minutes, my energy is gone, my mood is crap, i just want to go to bed and stay there forever and ignore everyone and everything, but there's really nothing and no one to ignore which is even MORE depressing.

and so i'm just here. in this limbo of i feel fine but i know things aren't exactly fine. and i just feel hollow and empty and alone. and some days it's overwhelming and profound. and other days i don't even notice it and i'm glad to be able to read for hours on end without a single interruption. and at some point it would be nice to try to make friends again. and at some point it would be nice to write without feeling wrong. and at some point it would be nice to have something to look forward to.

but i'll keep smiling. i'll keep going to work. i'll keep making polite talk at football practice. i'll keep grocery shopping and i'll keep making dinner. i'll keep going on. and maybe, eventually, it won't seem so empty any more. maybe, eventually it will be fun again and there will be things to do and people to do them with. but, for now, this is the way it is. it's not optimal, but it's ok. and that's ok.