tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Friday, June 16, 2017

It's Friday. Yesterday I thought it was Friday, but today is actually Friday.
Once again, without the boy here, the days are difficult to keep track of. That hasn't gotten any easier.

Not having the boy around hasn't gotten any easier, either.
Although I do see him whenever I'm at the new house. If I'm there unpacking, or cleaning, or painting... He'll spin over on his wheeler or dirt bike... I'm hoping that trend continues when I'm fully moved in. Hopefully he'll even stay over. We shall see.
He came over to the lake last weekend for a day, when it was really hot. It was so nice to have him for the day. Logan came over too, and mom as well. It was so nice to have my family together for the day. I went to bed happy that night.
Then there are the nights I cry all the way home from work, because I miss him so much, and I'm without him, and alone. Nights like last night.

Speaking of which... The new meds don't seem to be doing a whole lot, at least I don't think so. It's hard to say. I guess I never really can tell. Maybe they're helping a little. I'm still on a moderate dose. We only just went up on the dose and added a second med a week ago, so maybe I need to give it more time. Sometimes I hate the idea of being medicated. But the low has been pretty fucking fierce this year, so I know it's needed. There are some days I can't get out of my head, and it's hard to get through a work day. Yesterday it was noticeable to my customers, and I can't have that. Keep trying.

Leaving the lake is going to be hard. I do love living on the water, so much. I've dreamt of living on the water my whole life, and now I've lived it. There really is nothing quite like waking to the water every morning, or coming home to it every night from work. And even though it's been my dream, I still know that I'm making the right decision, for a lot of reasons.
This little place will be my own, I'll own it, even though I won't own the land (that almost relieves some of the headache). It'll be paid off by the time I'm 53. It'll be inexpensive, low maintenance living. It's super close (basically next door) to Dawson and his dad. It's a good investment. It's right down the street from mom (I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad, lol). The pictures don't do it justice... you don't think "trailer" when you see it, it's really beautifully redone and very spacious. And since it's the last spot in the park, the lot is amazing and huge and quite private.
And it's all ready to move into now. I was going to rent a uhaul this Sunday, and then I realized it's Father's day. I suppose I wouldn't be able to scour up much help on Father's day, most everyone probably has plans. I suppose I'll wait until the following Sunday. Hopefully I can get a few bodies to help me out.

Speaking of Father's day, I miss my dad. So much. This month is tough. It's Father's day month, and June marks the month of his rapid decline and his death. It's been four years this month. The month I received the phone call and the voicemail from him.. nothing but breathing and grunting... I called 911 and flew to the house to meet the ambulance... From EMMC, eventually to Brigham's in Mass, and then ultimately back to EMMC to die. I'm still so angry with him for drinking himself to death. And I miss him. So fucking much. June is tough.

As most of you have seen on facebook, I've had an opportunity to pick up a second job managing another bar up in Howland, in addition to managing the one I already do. They'd pretty much be willing to pay me whatever I ask for, including travel time, so I keep seeing dollar signs... But then again, I realize I would be working every day of my life. If I think I hardly ever see my son now, I'd definitely hardly ever see him if I took it. And there would be no doggy best friend for me. There'd be nothing but work. But that money, though...
I had a two and a half hour meeting with the owners this week. And for the first couple days afterwards, I was convinced I was going to take the job. I spent a few hours on a detailed management plan and a salary request. And then later in the week, I spent an evening at the new house, working around in the yard, watching the boy popping wheelies on the lawn... and then realized- these are the simple things I'll miss if I take this job. It was about that moment that I pretty much decided not to take the job.
I make a meager living, I barely get by. I would LOVE to not have to worry about bills, to have a little extra, for once. But I don't want that at the expense of losing what little time I have with my boy, or having a doggy friend, like I've wanted for so long, or spending time alone... basically, having extra money at the expense of losing the very few little things I do enjoy in this life. It was a very tough decision to make, but I think I've made it.

Speaking of jobs and bars... While "interviewing" with these owners, I realized something.,.. I'm a walking contradiction. I claim to hate people (especially drunk people), and I complain about this industry almost every day. And yet, I've been doing this for 15 years, and I'll do it until I'm too old to do it anymore. Because, I think I love it. At least, I love it where I am now, and I probably love it in general. Even though I also hate it. I love my little bar. And I love my regulars. I love my staff. I love my bosses. I hate it, and I love it. See? Walking contradiction.

I suppose I could start getting ready now. I've been up since 4:45. That's another thing I've been struggling with lately- waking at about 4:30 every day. Not sure why. Every day, for the past couple months. It's ridiculous. The new meds knock me out fairly early at night, usually by 10 at the absolute latest. Most times earlier, sometimes as early as 8:30. But this rising before the sun every day is getting old. I'm not one to go running or get a lot accomplished in the morning, so I'm mostly just bored.

But now I have to get ready. Heading to the dentist for the third time in two weeks. For the same damn tooth that just keeps breaking. It's mostly bonding now at this point. And it's one of the few I have left. I might as well just suck it up and get dentures. Nooooooooo!!!!

Anyway...

Be well.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Well, it's Wednesday. No, Monday. Wait, it's Tuesday. Yes, Tuesday.
As usual, without the boy here, it's awfully hard to keep track of the days.

I have seen him off and on over the weeks. Short visits at the new house, at a tennis match, dinners out, or picking him up super late at school after a tennis match up north. He's spent the night with me once in the last two months. It was Mother's day. I'm still trying to cope with this new situation, him wanting to be at his Dad's. As I've always said, I suspected eventually it would come. But I guess I always thought he'd still stay with me once in a while. But he hasn't, really. And it sucks. It sucks, bigtime. I guess I never thought I'd be doing the empty nest thing before he was even grown.

Yesterday I was working at the new place and just getting ready to leave when he texted me- Are you still there? Don't leave yet, I'm coming over. And so he showed up on the four wheeler and we hung out for a few minutes. He loves the new place. I've got all the curtains up, some furniture in place, and a lot of decorative stuff up. He says he can't wait to start staying there.
I can't wait, too. Although I am paid up here until the end of the month, and I love the lake, I am anxious to feel settled in. I've never been good with limbo. I'm going to try to get more serious about getting stuff over there over the next couple weeks, There's not a lot I can do by myself with my car, but I'm doing it. Little load by little load. I'll be renting a Uhaul, not this weekend, but next. I work every Saturday, so Sunday June 18th, if anyone is available to help lug stuff, I'd be forever grateful.

Last week my shrink upped my Latuda and added in Topomax. I hope for some relief. No, happiness is not a choice. Not for all of us. Sometimes (most times... all of the time), some of us can just be thankful to get through each day, hoping to wake up to something better. And then we don't wake to something better, so we just get through that next day, hope to wake to something better, again. And so on, and so on. Soon enough, the "hope to wake to something better" leaves us, and we just go on getting through. We don't enjoy life, we endure it. I can't explain depression any better. I don't have the words for it.  I'm so tired of "happiness is a choice". So fucking tired of it.
I'm anxiously awaiting my next high. I don't care if I shop away all of my savings, or buy a new car, or obsessively dive headlong into a new hobby, or write the manifesto, or do something else ridiculously stupid. I'd just like the manic back, please.

Although, I did ride along in a benefit ride this weekend. Instead of being a shut in. It was new and different, and something I wouldn't normally do. I actually enjoyed myself. Surrounded by people, some friends, some acquaintances, some I didn't know. It was fun being a part of something. Being involved. And in the end we all landed at my second home, the bar. It was nice seeing so many people come together for a cause. And it was nice to be a part of it. So often I feel like I don't belong, to anything, or anyone, or anywhere. In life, in general. But Sunday I felt like I belonged. To that group, to that day. I belonged in/to life. Involved. For just a day, enjoying, and not enduring.


Anyway...

I am anxious to get my new dog. The boy isn't quite as excited, though, lol.. I told him yesterday and his response was "oh lord", accompanied by a hand slap to the forehead. Although, with as little as he's with me, I guess it doesn't really matter. She'll be my companion, my co-pilot, my sleeping buddy, my walking partner (hopefully, as we could both stand to lose a few pounds, lol). As most of you have seen on facebook, she is a beauty. She's a lab/mastiff and she's super sweet. She belongs to a couple of friends of mine. They weren't actively looking for a home for her, but they have recently found their lives super, super busy, and they feel she isn't getting what she needs and deserves. And then they heard that I was looking for a new best friend. Coincidence? Maybe. I am honored that they would think of me, because they wouldn't let her go to just anyone, they weren't even sure they wanted to. But when they heard I was looking, they thought it might just be the perfect arrangement for everyone. And I think it just might be.
I had been thinking long and hard about the Great Dane that I was visiting with, and as much as I know she needs me, I had to be sure the dog was the right fit for me, too. As much as I'd love to help her (and her family), she wasn't right for me, and that made me not right for her.
I'm excited to bring Kaya home to the new place.


Anyway...

I've been getting the singing bug lately. It never goes away, really. I miss performing, I really do. But I guess I'm too old for that now. I'll just have to settle for "caraoke" :)  I've been using the Smule app lately to get my fix, and posting on facebook. I guess it's second best to performing for people live. Gives me a fix, at least a little bit. Here's one from YouTube. You can find all my others there, too, if you're bored.  :).


This week at work I complained about "please" and "thank you". Words that we all too often forget to use. In my line of work, we don't hear it all that often. I am guilty of forgetting, too.
There are the select few customers who will say either or both, almost all of the time. There are also customers who don't, but they order so politely, usually with a smile, that "please" and/or "thank you" are implied. And for all of those people, I am thankful.
And then there are the people who feel entitled to being served by their bartender... They order with a a tone and an attitude, and a look on their face that says- you should know what I want, you've served me so many times you should have it memorized and ready at the bar when I walk in, you're supposed to read my mind. Like- duh, yeah of course I want a bud light, Jeezus.
And for those people, I am not so thankful. Those are the people who make my job, and my day, a lot less tolerable. And sadly, it's not just strangers, it's often regulars. Folks, your bartender is a person, a working stiff just like you, with feelings, who deserves as much respect as any other person. Please remember that.
When the cashier asks me- "Did you find everything you were looking for today?" My response is (almost) always "yes I did, thank you". Try it out, it'll make their day, and it'll make you feel a little more human, too. 
Or maybe, when you order your next bud light, maybe say please, or thank you. Or at least order it without your self-righteous sense of entitlement. 

Ok, I suppose I have to go plank and pack. Neither of which I am looking forward to.

Be well. Please. *wink



Sunday, May 28, 2017

It's Sunday, so, on with it.

It's been a long week. Tiring. Exciting. Stressful.

I picked up an extra shift this week, which was good for the wallet, but bad for my (already screwed up) sleeping pattern. I'm definitely out of practice for night shifts. My blinks were getting longer and longer by 9 o'clock.  By midnight I was already half asleep. Pretty sure I sleep-drove all the way home. And even though I went to bed at 1:30am, I still got up at 5. Geez.

Speaking of work... This week I had several "ahhhhh" moments. Not like a surprise ahhhh, more like a content ahhhh. Moments where I've looked around and thought, this is my second home, this is my second family... This place, and these people, how I love them so. (even as much as I complain about this industry, and about how much I hate people)... I've made so many connections here. I am happy here. At home. And I am thankful for that.

This week also found me closing on the new place. I was very excited, but also verklempt. Overwhelmed, saddened. Leaving the lake is bittersweet. I will miss the water, so friggin much. I'm looking at it now as I write this. The sun is shining, the lake is calm with just a bit or rippling from the breeze... It's so beautiful. Calming. I will miss it so. And I have felt at home here, at peace.
But onward to new adventures... to home ownership, to hopefully seeing my boy more often. And hopefully I will feel at home, at peace, in the new house.

I've also been going back and forth on this whole dog thing... To get a dog, or not.
I know, I had Flash. But Flash was an extraordinary breed, who required far more than I could give him. He was a decent companion, but he required more than my busy/lazy life could provide. Yes, I'm busy, but I'm not that busy. And when I'm not busy, I don't want to be outside throwing frisbees all day long, or running, or hiking, or any other kinds of activities needed to satisfy a herding dog. I knew it when I adopted him, but I still convinced myself it could work.
And in the end, I made the hard decision to do what was right for him. And now he's training to herd cattle, running free with two other dogs every day, getting all the attention, love, and activity that he deserves. He's ridiculously happy.
And there I was again, dogless.
Then there was Ivan the shih tzu, who I was guilted into providing a foster home for. Some would say- why didn't you just keep him? Trust me, I thought about it. But I knew that Ivan was not the dog for me. If and when I get my very own dog, it's going to be a big lazy dog (Ivan was pretty low maintenance, but he wasn't big). I've raised Danes for nearly ten years, I've always loved the large/giant breeds. And I primarily live alone now, so I want a big dog who will fight off a big bad guy if need be, lol... I've just always loved big dogs, and that's what I will have, at some point.
As most of you have already seen on facebook, I've been visiting with a Dane lately who needs a new home (through no fault of her own). She is super sweet, and seems to be a very good dog, although she does have her issues. I don't think they're issues that can't be worked with, though. Because the family is under contract with their original breeder, they are abiding by that contract and going through the breeder for the adoption. Unfortunately, I am not impressed at all with what she proposes for a contract. I drafted my own and presented it to her, but she still insists we use hers. If we can't come to an agreement, it will be a moot point, as I won't sign to her terms.
I'll be meeting with a friend's dog this week as well. They don't need to place her, and aren't actively looking for a new home, but they are super busy, and feel she would be better served in a home where she will get more love and attention. We'll see how that goes. Coincidence? Maybe.
(With all these visits, I feel like I'm on the doggy love connection)
I do want a dog. I'm busy a lot of the time. Am I too busy? I don't think so, I don't think it can't be managed. I long for that companionship, so much. I thought the cat would provide it for me. Maybe I'm wrong in thinking that a dog will provide it for me. Who knows. I know that I'm lonely.

I do see someone occasionally, and the boy is with me once in a while (once in a great while, lately, unfortunately), but primarily, I'm alone. And even though I am lonely, I have developed a bit of a fondness for being alone. I never thought that would happen.
Being alone means that I can go and do, whenever, whatever I want. Or whatever I don't want. I don't have to consider someone else's needs and/or desires. I can sit on my couch for 6 hours in my pajamas and binge watch Prison Break. I can go out dancing whenever I want (although that's not very often, but I can if I want to). I can stay home when I want to. I can eat whatever I want, get as many cats as I want (or a dog), watch whatever I want on tv, leave somewhere (or stay) whenever I want, sleep in the center of my bed, decorate as I want, leave my laundry everywhere if I want, buy whatever I want...  Anything... I can DO. Whatever. I want.
There is something to be said for that kind of freedom.
Yes, it's lonely. It's still really friggin lonely. But it is tolerable. And sometimes, enjoyable.
The only downfall (other than the loneliness), is... what happens if I ever do have the chance for a real life partner? Will I be able to? Have I grown too accustomed to being alone, to my own ways of living... How can I go back to anything else?
I guess I'll just have to make sure he's a pushover. Although, that's nothing new for me. :)

I miss my boy. So friggin much. He's only stayed one night with me in about six weeks. As I've said before, I always suspected he'd eventually get to a point where he'd want to stay more with his dad, but I just wasn't prepared for it. Sigh. I miss him so. Life is pretty empty without him around.
I'm hoping that I'll find him visiting more often once I'm in the new place. That was a big part of the decision; the fact that there's a trail that runs from it straight to his dad's house. If you're a child of divorced parents, what could be more ideal than having them practically next door to each other?
I'm going to the new place today to start painting and cleaning, He's already said that he'll come over on the wheeler and take me for a spin through the trails. That's a start.  :)

I'm torn, Although I want to suck up as much time on the lake as possible, I want to go get settled into the new home as soon as possible, too.

Well, I suppose I should go eat my package of bacon so I can get going for the day. I have painting and cleaning to do, and a four wheeling date with a cute boy.





Thursday, May 18, 2017

Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday... What the hell day is it?
It's Thursday. It's my Monday. First day back behind the bar for the week.
Without the boy here, the days still kind of meld together. It's hard to tell one from the other.

I've watched the sun rise over the lake for days. I've been waking between 4-5 every day. I don't know if it's the changing of the seasons or what. If I go back in my facebook timeline, or in this blog, I think I'll find a pattern of it. I wake before the sunrise this time of year. It's part of my "mood pattern" too, I just haven't figured out that piece yet.

The sunrise was especially beautiful today. The sky was so pink, and the sun was red. And it all reflected off the water.
I sure am going to miss that.
As most of you know from my facebook page, I have decided to leave the lake. I had the opportunity to purchase a mobile home in a lovely park here in Glenburn. Coincidentally, there is a trail that leads directly from it to the boy's dad's house. And yes, that was one of the primary factors for the decision. In my boy's mind, having his parents within walking distance of one another is the perfect scenario. If you're parents are divorced, what could be better than having them practically next door to each other? I don't go into it assuming he'll stay with me any more than he does (it's been one night in five weeks), that would just be setting myself up for disappointment. But I do know he'll buzz over once in a while on his four wheeler, or dirt bike, or snowmobile. And knowing that his parents are that close to each other brings him joy and peace, and in turn, it brings it to me as well.
My heart belongs to the lake, but it belongs more to my boy.
It's a nice home, very spacious, and completely remodeled. And the park is very well cared for and quiet. I have the last lot in the park, so it's quite private. The payment is very economical. Even with the lot rent, it's a fairly substantial savings from what I am paying now for rent. And it'll be paid off in ten years. It'll be easy, low-maintenance living. I'll be 53 when it's paid off, with only a small lot payment and utilities to worry about. And besides, I'll own it. It'll be mine.
I'll be leaving the lake in just over a month. I'll soak up as much time with it as I can. At least I was able to realize my dream of living on the water, even if only temporarily.

I saw my psychiatrist for follow up this week. I think the new meds are helping me dig out of my hole. I'm not sure. Could be just an upswing in the moods. We'll give it another two weeks and then decide whether or not to up the dosage. Hopefully I'll actually stay on this one this time. As most of us "afflicted" people do, we tend to get to a point where we think we're just fine, and we don't need meds anymore. Then suddenly we land ourselves in a depression that we can't get out of, or we do something to up-heave our lives and the lives of others, something that hurts ourselves and/or our loved ones. Then we say, oh shit, gotta go in search of help again. It's a vicious circle. One that I'm trying to quit. For real, this time. Or so I say. Until I think I'm "well" again. Sigh.

At least I've been able to avoid the potential life pothole I was headed for in matters of the heart. As I said in my last blog, I'm always practical, except for where that's concerned. Practicality wins the day this time, though. It's funny how much we will accept and forgive "in the name of love". Too  much. All too often we give third, fourth, fifth chances, when a second wasn't deserved in the first place.
Why has it taken me so many years to learn this? Who knows.. But at least I have. Better late than never, right?

Oddly, I've also begun to feel a little better about "being alone". Is it the meds? Is it a mood change? I'm not sure. But being alone isn't always lonely. Sometimes it's just what I need. Most times, it seems. I've realized I like my time. My space. There is something to be said for living for yourself. Doing what you want. Not doing what you don't. Not answering or explaining anything to anyone. No one but the cat, anyway.
I'm trying to balance it more with being social, as awkward as that may be for me. I can't completely become a hermit, as much as I might like to. Don't get me wrong, I pretty much still think that people suck. But not all of them, and not all of the time. I'm trying to give them a chance. And myself.

Speaking of living alone, and buying my own home...
This means that, if I deem my life accommodating enough for one, I can get a dog. Whatever kind of dog I want. No bending the arm of a landlord or husband or boyfriend to allow one. No having to choose a small breed, or one with less hair, or one who slobbers less, or whatever.
Will I go back to a Dane? Not sure. It'll be some kind of big dog. For protection, for companionship. We shall see.

I suppose, I should go get ready for work. And peopling.

I wake to watch the sunrise
It’s pink over the water
There’s an empty beer bottle on the counter
Next to my coffee cup
It belongs to the body in my bed
The warmth begs me to come back and lie down
But the sky is so beautiful
And the coffee tastes lovely
And this moment is mine
~CGJ



Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Sunday coffee and blogging... Wait, it's Tuesday.. Tuesday coffee and blogging...

Without the boy here, it's very difficult to keep track of the days.
It's been almost four weeks since he's spent the night here with me. I've seen him a small handful of times over the last month. Easter, for a short dinner visit. A couple dinners out, at his tennis matches, or when he needed me to drop off his ROTC uniform...
I always thought there would come a day when he'd want to be at his dad's more often. His dad's is the fun house, lots of toys.. four wheelers, snowmobiles, dirt bikes. He doesn't feel "emotionally challenged" there; he can cope with his feelings by burying them. It's a bit more, how do you say, "relaxed"; fewer rules and restrictions, more freedom. And perhaps he feels closer to his brother there. And perhaps they need him there for that same reason. But I need him, too. Probably I need him too much (Norman Bates's mother syndrome). I suspected it would come. I just didn't think it would be so soon, and I wasn't at all prepared for it.

Logan has been gone for some time now. She'll be 22 this month. And with Dawson gone most of the time now, the empty nest has fully set in.
And now, without children and without a partner, I've truly become alone.
I think I already mentioned in a previous blog, that living alone isn't empowering, or liberating. At least not for me.
It's just.. lonely.

According to the advice of others, there's all kinds of things I could be doing to enrich my life, to reinvent myself. Get a new hobby or two. Meditate. Walk. Knit. Read. Write more. Spend time with friends (If I even have any). Join a gym. Join a group of some kind. Get out more...
Perhaps once my new meds kick in, and I've climbed out of this "down time", I'll find something that I enjoy. For now, though, I lack the interest and/or motivation. For anything, really. But, it'll pass. It usually does. I just have to wait it out. Get through it.

And yes, as always, I'll go on to speak frankly about being bi-polar, about borderline personality disorder, the depression, the anxiety. It doesn't bother me, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed.
I met with a new psychiatrist last week whom I really liked. She's my age, she has two kids, both boy and girl, both my kids ages. She was very laid back, yet also professional. Seeing her is much more personal than receiving treatment at Acadia, where you feel like you're shuffled in with the rest of the crazies, given a prescription, and shuffled out.
Anyway... After trying a multitude of medications over the years (Zolaft, Depakote, Topomax, Abilify, just to name a few..), perhaps the Latuda will help.
The changing seasons are always more difficult for me. I'm not sure why (I hear it's that way for a lot of other bi-polars.. fellow bi-polars, raise your hands, lol). Spring and fall usually find me changing jobs, starting or quitting school, having an affair, getting a divorce, obsessing over some new hobby or activity until it becomes unhealthy, binge drinking, up and moving to a new place, draining my savings until I'm poor and destitute, or some other life altering behaviors... (I don't imagine I can fly, it's not quite as sensational as they make it out to be on tv). That's why I'm always hesitant. Over the years I've learned to cope, to "stay in place". Don't start anything new, don't leave anything old, don't change my mind, don't change direction, don't do anything. Is it just "my time"? Am I making a mistake? Will I regret this? Unfortunately though, that overcompensating also becomes a source of angst. In anything in life, making a decision becomes one of the most challenging things in the universe. And so many times, I just stay in place. Stay stuck. Do nothing. Fighting with yourself constantly, is exhausting.
Exhausting is a good way to describe it all.
Being afflicted this way is exhausting. It's not a joke. It's not a scape-goat. It's not a myth. I don't like to call it "mental illness". That seems too heavy. But it's real. And it's exhausting.
The moods (and please know that bi-polar moods, or BPD moods are not like what you experience every day), the anxiety, the depression (and oh, at times it's so fucking crippling), the highs (although sometimes the highs are quite nice, that's why we hate Depakote), the roller coaster... it's all. so. exhausting.
Not to sound morbid (and no, I'm not suicidal)... I used to be cursed with what I liked to call "mortality anxiety". I was always afraid of dying. I am not a religious person,  so I don't really have the afterlife to look forward to (although at times I surely wish I did). But lately, the last several months or so, maybe a year even, I seem to have tamed that mortality anxiety. I seem to have come to terms with dying. And simply because, it'll finally be a release. And everything won't be so exhausting anymore.
Again, please don't freak out. I'm not going to go walk into the lake and not come back out. It was just a realization I've come to over time, and thought I'd share.

I once read a quote that said- "Life is supposed to be enjoyed, not endured". And yes, that makes sense, but it's a pretty far reaching goal. It's not very realistic. And if nothing else, I'm cursed with being a realist. Although, I'm also still slightly hopeful. I'll keep enduring, in the hopes that maybe something will bring it purpose, enjoyment, enrichment, fulfillment. At least once in a great while. Hopefully. Until I can be not so exhausted anymore.

Random insert (and another thing I've discussed with the psychiatrist, and will pursue with my new primary care provider)... I was thinking about my kids. Trying to recall something from when they were young. And, I can't. I can't remember anything. I can't remember what their faces looked like when they were young. I can't remember things we did, or places we'd been, or moments in their lives.
And I've always known I can't recall memories like other people can.
I don't remember things. When I say "I don't remember things", I guess I mean, I can't remember anything in my life beyond, oh, about the last five years or so. Nothing.
The memories I do have are photographs. I'll think I'm recalling a memory, but then I realize I'm recalling seeing a picture of something, or someone, or a place, or a happening. Oh, I remember the birth of my eldest! Wait, no, I remember the picture of it. Hey! I remember my first wedding! Wait, no, that was just a photograph. I see the pictures as memories but I can't remember the actual moments. I don't remember any of it, at all.
It started some time ago, almost as a joke, when my friend would recall something and say- do you remember when we did... (this, or that, or whatever)... And I'd say, ummm, no, I don't remember. How do you remember it?
Unfortunately, I've had that same damn conversation with pretty much everyone in my life. With my daughter, my friends, my mother, my ex-husband(s)... hundreds of times.
I don't remember the things I've done. I don't remember my children when they were growing, I don't remember anything. I certainly don't remember anything about being young myself. At 6, 16, 26... Did I even exist?
I know it sounds crazy. It sounds crazy even as I type it. My short term memory is pretty flawless. But my long term memory? Well, I seem to not have one at all.
And I haven't even really talked to anyone about it until recently. Because recently, I've come to accept that it's probably not normal. And I should probably talk to my doctor about it, instead of stuffing it, burying it. Perhaps my son gets some of his coping skills from his mother after all.

Anyway, back to reinventing yourself, enriching your life...

I'd like to say that going back to school is something I'm doing for those purposes, to enrich my life, reinvent myself. But it's not. It's an obligatory necessity (as is pretty much everything else in life). Essentially, I need to prepare for employment between the time I'm too old to bartend and the time I'm dead. And going back to school, even if it is just Beal, just an associates for administrative professional, will do that. It's practical. It's doable. It'll prepare me to be employable in that time frame, that space between bartending and death.
I know, exciting stuff. Practicality trumps excitement. Such is my life.

Practicality trumps excitement. I guess that's my life motto now (at least it is while I'm "managing my moods"). Someone please engrave that on my tombstone, or my urn, whichever.

I haven't always been practical. Unfortunately, the one area in which I'm never practical, and always reckless, are in matters of the heart. And that habitual behavior has turned my life (and the lives of others) upside down, on more than one occasion. Probably more than ten occasions. Probably even more than that...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who was in love with two men. It was several years ago. I won't go into detail; it's a tale too long to tell. But if you've been reading this blog over the years, you are probably already familiar with it.
Anyway... Back then, the girl described that "love triangle" as one of the most painful experiences of her life. She wrote- "There's a reason love triangles only exist in the movies or on tv, because they are too painful for reality". And so, she had to choose. Because, let's face it, she couldn't have both. Even though she couldn't help but love both. But she had to choose. She had to sever ties to one or the other, much like choosing to lose one of her very own limbs. She had to carve out half of her heart.
And she did. She lived through it, though she lost half of herself in the process. But life went on. And she hoped and prayed she'd never, ever have to do something so painful again.
And yet, here she sits.
Well, my second ex-husband didn't always make sense, but he did always say- "life is about circles". Perhaps he was onto something.
I must have believed it at one point, I have the tattoo on my back to attest to that.

Speaking of ex-husbands... I recently heard that the maximum amount of times you can marry in the state of Maine is 5 times. I'm over half-way there. Damnit, there goes my hopes of collecting ex-husbands and becoming the next Elizabeth Taylor. Perhaps I should move out of state?

Anyway... I suppose I should get off this computer, put down my proverbial pen, since I've rambled now for nearly two hours, drank five cups of coffee, and smoked half a pack of cigarettes. Do something productive. Rake the leaves, vacuum the house, do the dishes, take out the trash, make some candles. Go talk to the cat. Decide on my next ex-husband. Something.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Just some random crap that I needed to get out by "putting on paper"... I mean, it is Sunday coffee and blogging time, right? Even if it is coffee at 8pm.


You don't truly appreciate everything you have, until the ability to provide it for yourself it is at risk.

And, regarding the aforementioned statement; fear is truly crippling.

But even in general, fear is SO powerful. Fear of death, fear of the unknown, fear of being alone, of heartbreak, poverty, illness, war... Airplanes, heights, boats, electricity... Jeezus, I could go on all night.

No matter what their age, 15 or 45, boys will always have the innate ability to break your heart.

Living alone is not empowering or liberating. It's just lonely.

Some people are truly interested in you. In your day, your feelings, your life. Some people are just curious. Or bored.
Know the difference.

I miss my son. So f&%king much.

Facebook is the new free dating site. Better, even (or worse), than Plenty of Fish. Just post your "single" relationship status publicly and highlight your best selfies. Voila. Keepin' it classy. Best of luck to you.

The passage of time truly does help you to forget about someone. My (lack of a) relationship with my sister is evidence of this. As close as we once were, I hardly remember it now. That should be sad.

Sometimes I think that the secret to sanity is forgetting. Being unaware. That's why so many people drink, or do drugs. I could only be lucky enough to become an Alzheimer patient. Forgetting, being oblivious, not caring, just might be the only way to stay sane. Being aware is a curse.

But I haven't forgotten my father.
The longer I'm alive, the more I experience in this life, the more I understand why he self-medicated with alcohol. I may be devastated and angry as hell that he let it kill him, but jeezus, I get it. I always said we had similar minds. And no wonder he drank as he did. I often wish I were an addict, just to be able to get out of my own head, even temporarily.

I complain about having to be nice to people all day at my job. The truth is, I enjoy what I do. And I enjoy (most of) my customers. However, there are a few I could live without. Even punch in the face, if I could. The non-tippers. The lousy tippers. The customers who think (and sometimes even say), "oh, you just tend bar, you don't really work". The customers who look down on you for what you do, who think that their 9-5 professional job is so much more important. The ones who treat you as just a servant, and act as if your only purpose is to attend to them.
Again, I could go on all night.

My customers/friends are funny. The other night after work, one of them was joking around with me... Saying that I was going to go home, eat my bugles, and be sad. She said she often worries- will this be the day that Crista walks into the lake and doesn't come back out? As off color as it was, it was funny, we all laughed, I laughed.
And then I cried all the way home. And most of the night. As funny as it was, she was right. Although, I skipped the bugles and opted for ice cream.

Seriously, though. I'm truly tired of being this damn sad all the damn time. It's exhausting. Pretending not to be is exhausting, too. Everything is exhausting. Maybe it's time to consider meds again. Jeezus, I hate that idea. Maybe I should just start smoking weed with the rest of the population. It is legal now. Maybe I should see what all the fuss is about.

Let's talk about Netflix.

I'm currently addicted to a show called "Sense8". It's really good. You should check it out. It's sci-fi, but realistic. It's intense. Lots of character development. Very cool story line. Original. And the sex scenes are pretty good, too.

Anyway... I've got to get back to my show now. It's very important, you know. Important stuff, watching Netflix. Wicked meaningful.
And besides, the cat needs me. Not really, but I like to pretend she does.