everybody loves to throw around the "new year, new you!" phrase. i dislike it.
i understand the sentiment, i just don't agree with it. over the past couple of months, i've been working really hard on knowing exactly who i am, and exactly who i am not. i've considered the positive and the negative, but mostly the positive. truth be told, i have spent more than enough time on the negative in my life already.
so lately, i've come to know myself and all of the great things that that entails. i have considered my strengths, the things i am naturally adept with, my potential that is brimming just below the surface or is sitting on the surface, but unused. i am slowly but surely enriching my life by adding things to it that i know i will love or maybe, will simply challenge me. i want the challenge. but i'm not undertaking all of this hoping to arrive at "a new me". i want to arrive as the me i am now. i want to experience life as i want it, as i hope for it. my own standards and judgements are all that matter. and there's no way in hell i'm going to sell myself short, and there's no need for reinvention. if you don't like yourself, by all means, make some changes. but don't expect to be someone entirely different. that doesn't happen. the good in you and the strength are already there. you just need to bring them out. you need to not be afraid to try and fail and maybe suffer a little.
the thing i've learned is, things that are supposed to seem great are anything but, when you have no sense of yourself. who you actually are. enjoyment isn't possible when you have no sense of yourself. by the same measure, suffering is not really that bad, when you're not afraid of taking it on because you have a sense of yourself and what YOU can handle and who you are. the good is that much better, and the bad is survivable when you respect yourself and know yourself and LIKE yourself. because no matter what, you can't lose that. no matter what happens to you. and i've learned that recently. i finally have. "man's search for meaning" has finally smacked me upside the head with understanding. and not a minute too soon.
this morning i'm sitting on a porch chair in sunny southern california. the weather is beautiful, i am watching the sea, breathing it in. i am exactly where i want to be. the second year in a row, i've made this happen because it matters to me. funny enough, i've had problems since arriving here. a medication issue, that's left me with some pain and unpleasant symptoms. however, i'm solving that problem and it's not at the forefront of my mind.
what's at the forefront of my mind? that it's sixty-something degrees outside, the sun is beating down on my body and the air is fresh and i can taste the ocean in it. that tomorrow i will party with some of the coolest family anyone could hope for, that i will see an old friend while here. that this week holds for me whatever i want it to. that when i go back home, i will be buoyed up to survive the rest of the winter.
what else could i need?
this new year is going to hold for me, whatever i want it to. my physical limitations are shrinking daily and i am taking care of myself mentally and physically, getting stronger. i will do whatever i want to. i will be me, the same me i've always been- but with the experience of illness, heartbreak, rock-bottom-and-up-again, a renewal and removal of disillusionment. i will write passionately, laugh freely, (at myself, most of the time i'm sure) and surround myself with whomever and whatever i choose to. and at the end of the day, when i go to bed and look at myself in the mirror, i'll be happy that i am living MY life in THIS body. as THIS person.
and that's enough.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Thursday, December 4, 2014
finders keepers
writing is my way to speak. my way to dream, to escape. to be someone. when things are really bad in my life, i stop writing. i deprive myself of the particular joy and sense of purpose it gives me. there's a kind of famine inside. right now, is the first time i've been able to write anything for too long of a while.
i've been moved. there are lots of things that move me. music. books. movies. nature. photographs and paintings. when i am being self-destructive as i had been, i hide from the things that move me. i become immoveable and numb to everything except pain. and then pain takes over and rules my existence.
not physical pain, not necessarily. i live my life in physical pain the way normal people live without it. i don't have a choice in this, so i have adapted to fit it. my body has certain things wrong that will always cause me pain. fine. i have learned to live around the physical pain. that's not what scares me anymore. what scares me, is the emotional pain. mental pain. and that, i heap upon myself when i self-destruct. i heap it on like you wouldn't believe.
until recently, i got caught in an ugly mess of a destructive cycle. i did everything i could to sabotage myself. i degraded myself and let myself be walked all over, hurt and demeaned. i lashed out at people i care about and tried to please the people i didn't care about. i surrounded myself with company that made me squirm inside. i behaved in ways that those who know and love me, would never recognize. and then, the physical side came crashing down. i am still dealing with it currently and won't know much until tomorrow, when i meet with my surgeon. i hope that whatever is going on, is something that won't require surgery or anything drastic. i know that some part of me believes i deserve to lose certain things that mean so much to me. i am trying to fight against that part of me with all that i consciously can.
i guess i should say what moved me recently. finally. i finally hit rock-bottom in my self-destructive cycle and realized i could go no lower. the whole thing was complete. i was finally done. i had enough to remind myself of, enough to cringe over, for a long time. once that was finished, i began picking pieces of myself back up and putting them in a drawer for later- for when i would feel capable of trying to put myself back together again.
time went by where i just existed. until recently. several things happened. one of them though, was that i started reading "the fountainhead" by ayn rand. don't roll your eyes. while you may have to tolerate rand's ideals to read "atlas shrugged" perhaps, "the fountainhead" is purely a work of fiction and can be enjoyed (and yet still moving) as such. i saw myself looking into my own soul when i read the character of dominique francon. and i began to understand. that book has inspired me and lifted me, and also reminded me of why i love writing. there's a lot of beautiful language to be had for someone who knows how to use words- and that is one thing i've always been able to give myself. i know how to use them. i'm a born wordsmith. it's the one thing i never let go of even at my most self-destructive. i deprive myself of writing, but because i know that i CAN. there is never any doubt of that.
right now, i feel simply grateful that something reached me. that since reading that book, i have been able to feel moved by the things i love again. no matter what happens with my health, i have those things. i have writing. i am done being self-destructive because i've finally been able to admit to it, and more importantly, to the WHY.
if anything i ever write, accomplishes what that book has accomplished for me.....it will be worth everything i've put myself through to get there.
finders keepers.
i've been moved. there are lots of things that move me. music. books. movies. nature. photographs and paintings. when i am being self-destructive as i had been, i hide from the things that move me. i become immoveable and numb to everything except pain. and then pain takes over and rules my existence.
not physical pain, not necessarily. i live my life in physical pain the way normal people live without it. i don't have a choice in this, so i have adapted to fit it. my body has certain things wrong that will always cause me pain. fine. i have learned to live around the physical pain. that's not what scares me anymore. what scares me, is the emotional pain. mental pain. and that, i heap upon myself when i self-destruct. i heap it on like you wouldn't believe.
until recently, i got caught in an ugly mess of a destructive cycle. i did everything i could to sabotage myself. i degraded myself and let myself be walked all over, hurt and demeaned. i lashed out at people i care about and tried to please the people i didn't care about. i surrounded myself with company that made me squirm inside. i behaved in ways that those who know and love me, would never recognize. and then, the physical side came crashing down. i am still dealing with it currently and won't know much until tomorrow, when i meet with my surgeon. i hope that whatever is going on, is something that won't require surgery or anything drastic. i know that some part of me believes i deserve to lose certain things that mean so much to me. i am trying to fight against that part of me with all that i consciously can.
i guess i should say what moved me recently. finally. i finally hit rock-bottom in my self-destructive cycle and realized i could go no lower. the whole thing was complete. i was finally done. i had enough to remind myself of, enough to cringe over, for a long time. once that was finished, i began picking pieces of myself back up and putting them in a drawer for later- for when i would feel capable of trying to put myself back together again.
time went by where i just existed. until recently. several things happened. one of them though, was that i started reading "the fountainhead" by ayn rand. don't roll your eyes. while you may have to tolerate rand's ideals to read "atlas shrugged" perhaps, "the fountainhead" is purely a work of fiction and can be enjoyed (and yet still moving) as such. i saw myself looking into my own soul when i read the character of dominique francon. and i began to understand. that book has inspired me and lifted me, and also reminded me of why i love writing. there's a lot of beautiful language to be had for someone who knows how to use words- and that is one thing i've always been able to give myself. i know how to use them. i'm a born wordsmith. it's the one thing i never let go of even at my most self-destructive. i deprive myself of writing, but because i know that i CAN. there is never any doubt of that.
right now, i feel simply grateful that something reached me. that since reading that book, i have been able to feel moved by the things i love again. no matter what happens with my health, i have those things. i have writing. i am done being self-destructive because i've finally been able to admit to it, and more importantly, to the WHY.
if anything i ever write, accomplishes what that book has accomplished for me.....it will be worth everything i've put myself through to get there.
finders keepers.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
my month of sleeping on couches is OVER!
right now i'm sitting on my new bright and cozy bed. the mattress is something luxuriously plush and tall and comfy, and something i'd never have bought for myself so i am SO LUCKY to have inherited it from my generous sister and brother-in-law. the bedding, a bright red with cream circles that looks very sixties-esque, is new as of last night. it's the perfect mismatch with my bright blue walls and hardwood flooring. and the biggest bonus of all, of course, was that last night (my first night with my new bed).....
I SLEPT LIKE A FREAKING BABY.
now imagined that's underlined twice, with asterisks at each end for emphasis. why? why is this such a big deal? beds are for sleeping. is it really blogworthy for me to be going all mattress crazy on my blog? do i really need to throw in (yet again. oops.) that i SLEPT LIKE A FREAKING BABY?
meh.....probably not. but look at it this way. i'm someone who has had some pretty major back problems the past few years. these existed before any of other health issues, and grew to be even worse due to the nature of the health issues that later arrived and made themselves at home.
so very recently, things were getting BAD for my back. every time i slept on my old, hard as a board bed, i'd wake up in agony and take about ten minutes to slowly move each limb to the edge of the bed, and then slowly try to stand. dressing took FOREVER because i had to sit down to put most of my clothes on and couldn't bend over to put my socks on without much discomfort and i'll admit, unkindly words of the sailor variety.
let's just say, i stopped sleeping on that bed because it was doing damage to me. i have literally been sleeping on couches for the last month, trying to buy a mattress. and then, i got one for free. and a really, really good one too.
aww it's november. so sure, i'm thankful. and what great motivation too ;) right now i'm writing from my bed, which i so often loved to do before. now i''m back in my big cozy bed and loving it. this is how you spend sunday nights man. i'm writing the night away on a very exciting project......playing WoW and reading.
multitasking is good, my friends.
especially when you have a giant comfy bed to do it in!!
;)
I SLEPT LIKE A FREAKING BABY.
now imagined that's underlined twice, with asterisks at each end for emphasis. why? why is this such a big deal? beds are for sleeping. is it really blogworthy for me to be going all mattress crazy on my blog? do i really need to throw in (yet again. oops.) that i SLEPT LIKE A FREAKING BABY?
meh.....probably not. but look at it this way. i'm someone who has had some pretty major back problems the past few years. these existed before any of other health issues, and grew to be even worse due to the nature of the health issues that later arrived and made themselves at home.
so very recently, things were getting BAD for my back. every time i slept on my old, hard as a board bed, i'd wake up in agony and take about ten minutes to slowly move each limb to the edge of the bed, and then slowly try to stand. dressing took FOREVER because i had to sit down to put most of my clothes on and couldn't bend over to put my socks on without much discomfort and i'll admit, unkindly words of the sailor variety.
let's just say, i stopped sleeping on that bed because it was doing damage to me. i have literally been sleeping on couches for the last month, trying to buy a mattress. and then, i got one for free. and a really, really good one too.
aww it's november. so sure, i'm thankful. and what great motivation too ;) right now i'm writing from my bed, which i so often loved to do before. now i''m back in my big cozy bed and loving it. this is how you spend sunday nights man. i'm writing the night away on a very exciting project......playing WoW and reading.
multitasking is good, my friends.
especially when you have a giant comfy bed to do it in!!
;)
Sunday, November 2, 2014
this is how my brain works in the fall/winter (is coming!) sorry couldn't help that....anyway.....
the past few months of my life have been difficult.
trust me, at this point....i'm REALLY sick of saying that. i'm sick of it being my motto- that's what it feels like. but let me say, it's led me to some really good realizations and changes so, it's not wasted.
it's never wasted, life being hard. i'm really starting to understand that.
my great grandma passed away in the beginning of september, and a cycle began. i couldn't see it then, but now with the benefit of hindsight i can. her death brought a sharp reality into my brain and my heart and really every part of me, that i had never experienced before. i began to get a little morbidly interested in death. i was dealing with all parts of it. the physical loss of a person. seeing a person's body and knowing that their soul is missing. wondering, where that goes. wondering, if we remain conscious through everything, do we become pure matter without consciousness? so many thoughts.
and then not long after my great grandma passed away, taking with her this presence that had existed before i was born and had been there my entire life so far......a whole different aspect of death came in from the other side. scout, for all intents and purposes my baby. dying. dying. and then gone.
and after lying on the floor at the vet's office, holding scout's face so that our eyes were staring right into each other's and our noses touched, and i watched the life slowly ebb from him and i was still holding him. crying hysterically because death once again was here. and i didn't know what to do. it quickly took my great grandma and it quickly took my companion and child. and my world was just kind of rocked. it was rocked while suddenly death seemed to be the only thing i could thing about. death, in all its stages and exactly what it is and does. and at the same time, the season is changing from gentle fall to harsher whisperings of winter, with early darkness and promised snows.....
and i am just like, what the hell.
k life, just calm the eff down for a moment. let me breathe. my anxiety starts causing panic attacks and my meds need to be adjusted. and then, something bad happens. a week later, i'm down with pouchitis again. i'm starting to realize that i am doing certain things to myself sub-consciously. that i am internalizing guilt and shame and anger, and that these things are attacking me now the same way they were attacking my colon. and i'm realizing i'm setting myself up for a crappy life if i don't check myself and fast. reigning in my self-loathing, so i can actually get healthy. that is all i want, i realize. all i want.
so here i admit, i have issues. everybody has their own. but mine are just.....they're issues born from trauma. i didn't understand that these kind of issues don't just go away with a little affirmation in the mornings, or whatever. i have issues directly related to the fact that my life was about being sick, potentially dying, and just surviving day-to-day. my life has been survival. and just that. so while in some aspects i've certainly matured beyond my years. it's obvious to me whenever i'm around my peers. it's also obvious that my social skills are lacking, and that's directly related to me being very isolated when i was sick. i was missing out on years of emotional growth in very basic ways, while making emotional growth into advanced stages in other ways. i have a deep understanding about pain and loss, and the special horror of your body destroying itself so systemically. like a program gone wrong, and suddenly it's just going into shutdown and your heart and your spirit are screaming. this isn't what you wanted! and not so young. the physical and mental/emotional are at odds. and having your body become the grounds of a civil war between your soul, your core, and the physical. it's a mess.
i didn't really understand, even with all my preparations, what kind of mark sickness and surgery were going to leave on me. what kind of isolation i really sank into. like a big bathtub full of icy water. nearly two years since my first surgery, and i still can hardly fathom it. it's still hard to look at the pictures. my health hasn't gotten THAT much better. i do not feel "done" with this yet, and i'd hoped that i would be at this point.
i've always been an intense person. but all of that, and the mark it's left on me, has made me even more intense. i'm trying to learn what to dial down, and what is actually good intensity. i'm trying really hard to be a good person, because i feel like i wasn't made a "good person", with traits that lend well toward goodness. ha! if anything, i have a host of traits that lend toward selfishness, vanity, impatience with myself, and the deep-down, marrow-deep belief that i am not worth anything. i have a temper, i can be calculating. i have some tendencies that would lend well to me being a sleazy person, not caring about anything but living this life- and living it the way i want to.
but then there's a whole other side-just less developed, where good traits have been fed and watered in recent years. if i care for them, if i tend to them, can they overtake the rottenness that is already there?
i want to be a GOOD PERSON. it sure doesn't sound glamorous at all, but i've never cared much for glamor anyway. i think i have the makings of both a lousy person and a good one (don't we all?) but i think the good things are in the beginning stages of being able to overpower the bad, finally. it will be a process long and slow. but that's what life is, right?
ps- i want to be a good person. i'm not all that stoked on being a completely sane person ;) though...heh. the greatest artists and writers never are. my intensity fans the flame of my creativity, so though dialed-down it may become.....
......it will never disappear.
trust me, at this point....i'm REALLY sick of saying that. i'm sick of it being my motto- that's what it feels like. but let me say, it's led me to some really good realizations and changes so, it's not wasted.
it's never wasted, life being hard. i'm really starting to understand that.
my great grandma passed away in the beginning of september, and a cycle began. i couldn't see it then, but now with the benefit of hindsight i can. her death brought a sharp reality into my brain and my heart and really every part of me, that i had never experienced before. i began to get a little morbidly interested in death. i was dealing with all parts of it. the physical loss of a person. seeing a person's body and knowing that their soul is missing. wondering, where that goes. wondering, if we remain conscious through everything, do we become pure matter without consciousness? so many thoughts.
and then not long after my great grandma passed away, taking with her this presence that had existed before i was born and had been there my entire life so far......a whole different aspect of death came in from the other side. scout, for all intents and purposes my baby. dying. dying. and then gone.
and after lying on the floor at the vet's office, holding scout's face so that our eyes were staring right into each other's and our noses touched, and i watched the life slowly ebb from him and i was still holding him. crying hysterically because death once again was here. and i didn't know what to do. it quickly took my great grandma and it quickly took my companion and child. and my world was just kind of rocked. it was rocked while suddenly death seemed to be the only thing i could thing about. death, in all its stages and exactly what it is and does. and at the same time, the season is changing from gentle fall to harsher whisperings of winter, with early darkness and promised snows.....
and i am just like, what the hell.
k life, just calm the eff down for a moment. let me breathe. my anxiety starts causing panic attacks and my meds need to be adjusted. and then, something bad happens. a week later, i'm down with pouchitis again. i'm starting to realize that i am doing certain things to myself sub-consciously. that i am internalizing guilt and shame and anger, and that these things are attacking me now the same way they were attacking my colon. and i'm realizing i'm setting myself up for a crappy life if i don't check myself and fast. reigning in my self-loathing, so i can actually get healthy. that is all i want, i realize. all i want.
so here i admit, i have issues. everybody has their own. but mine are just.....they're issues born from trauma. i didn't understand that these kind of issues don't just go away with a little affirmation in the mornings, or whatever. i have issues directly related to the fact that my life was about being sick, potentially dying, and just surviving day-to-day. my life has been survival. and just that. so while in some aspects i've certainly matured beyond my years. it's obvious to me whenever i'm around my peers. it's also obvious that my social skills are lacking, and that's directly related to me being very isolated when i was sick. i was missing out on years of emotional growth in very basic ways, while making emotional growth into advanced stages in other ways. i have a deep understanding about pain and loss, and the special horror of your body destroying itself so systemically. like a program gone wrong, and suddenly it's just going into shutdown and your heart and your spirit are screaming. this isn't what you wanted! and not so young. the physical and mental/emotional are at odds. and having your body become the grounds of a civil war between your soul, your core, and the physical. it's a mess.
i didn't really understand, even with all my preparations, what kind of mark sickness and surgery were going to leave on me. what kind of isolation i really sank into. like a big bathtub full of icy water. nearly two years since my first surgery, and i still can hardly fathom it. it's still hard to look at the pictures. my health hasn't gotten THAT much better. i do not feel "done" with this yet, and i'd hoped that i would be at this point.
i've always been an intense person. but all of that, and the mark it's left on me, has made me even more intense. i'm trying to learn what to dial down, and what is actually good intensity. i'm trying really hard to be a good person, because i feel like i wasn't made a "good person", with traits that lend well toward goodness. ha! if anything, i have a host of traits that lend toward selfishness, vanity, impatience with myself, and the deep-down, marrow-deep belief that i am not worth anything. i have a temper, i can be calculating. i have some tendencies that would lend well to me being a sleazy person, not caring about anything but living this life- and living it the way i want to.
but then there's a whole other side-just less developed, where good traits have been fed and watered in recent years. if i care for them, if i tend to them, can they overtake the rottenness that is already there?
i want to be a GOOD PERSON. it sure doesn't sound glamorous at all, but i've never cared much for glamor anyway. i think i have the makings of both a lousy person and a good one (don't we all?) but i think the good things are in the beginning stages of being able to overpower the bad, finally. it will be a process long and slow. but that's what life is, right?
ps- i want to be a good person. i'm not all that stoked on being a completely sane person ;) though...heh. the greatest artists and writers never are. my intensity fans the flame of my creativity, so though dialed-down it may become.....
......it will never disappear.
Friday, October 24, 2014
yeah, i'm awake.
a rude awakening that my perspective is way off. that i always, always, ALWAYS expect the worst and react that way to everything. that i do not communicate well, despite my intentions. that i expect passive-aggressiveness, for everything to really mean something else. i grew up with that such a part of my life that now, it's burrowed into my brain. i feel stupid, and ashamed and i'm tired. sometimes i feel like i have nothing good to offer anybody. really.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
the beauty of it
once you understand your own capacity, the depth of feeling you can have for other people and creatures and things, then you know exactly who and what to really let in. you decide exactly who you're going to love, respect, and cherish and anything else. you decide who and what you might only tolerate to add to the greater good of your life. nobody else decides it for you. you decide who and what are really worth making space and time for. and that's the beauty of it! nobody can force you to love them, respect them, like them or even make room for them. and you can't decide that for anybody else. and it's not an insult, it's human nature. we are all so different. we will not all love or respect or like each other the same way, we may not want everybody who wants to be in our lives to be there. sometimes there simply isn't any room for what certain people or things bring you.
and that's okay.
and that's okay.
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