I figure that I need to lighten up. Sure, everything has been a little heavy lately... but I'm fairly certain that I am not, nor have I ever been, the type of person who allows the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" to dictate how I feel about life. No more dwelling on things I can't change or worrying about tomorrow. No more sighing and crying about feeling cursed. Ok... well, I might still sigh and cry... but for tonight, I wanna lighten up.
The other night, I was plagued with intermittent sleep and bad dreams. They were the kind of dreams that you actually dream about waking up, and you are in the room you are sleeping in, but you are still dreaming... so it takes you a while to really figure out that the weird crap that is happening really isn't happening. Now, this was not pleasant at the time, but when I was telling the story to a friend about how I looked over at the door and saw my pillow dancing and taunting me by laughing at me, even I could find the humor in that. I guess I always have had a vivid imagination.
Speaking of imagination... when I was young, my brothers and their friends would all play dungeons and dragons. Now, I've never been a great judge of what is cool or not, and this was no exception. I wanted more than anything to be able to play. However, we were way past the point where it was cool for my brothers to play games with their snotty little sister, so they told me I couldn't play because I had no imagination. Thank you for lying to me... I might have turned out to be an even bigger nerd than I already am.
I have given in to my nerdishness... and yes, from hence forth, nerdishness will be an official word. I have now watched every episode of Stargate (SG-1, Atlantis, and Universe), I have seen the movies, I have seen every episode of Farscape and the Peacekeeper Wars movie. As a child I, of course, saw all the Star Wars movies. My last shred of non-nerdishness dignity is that I have not gotten sucked into the world of Star Trek... although I would not be surprised if that happens soon. After that, I give in... who knows, maybe I'll go to a Comicon... if Michael Shanks is there that is... ugh... I am a nerd.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
losing it.
ok. so I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I'm slightly losing it. It... being the ability to remember who I am and why I love life. Furthermore... I watched the season finale of The Biggest Loser on hulu.com the other night and remembered, somehow, that I don't remember who I am. All of this got me thinking... maybe if I lost it. It... being the weight I've carried for 20 years, both physically and mentally from all of the trauma of my childhood, that just maybe if I lose it I could become who I am supposed to be.
Does that sound pathetic? Does it sound a little too psycho babble? Am I pulling at straws to keep a semblance of sanity in all of the ridiculous crises that continue to arise around me?
Honestly, I don't care. I need a project. I think that my project is going to be ME. I'm considering beginning a new blog about my losing it just two months shy of turning 30. I am actually considering promoting this blog to anyone and everyone I can and perhaps even making it a monetized blog. So here is the reason why...
I love to write. I want to take my life back from fate, or destiny, or my past, or whatever has been leading me down the paths I've taken in the past years. I want to be a healthy person inside and out. Furthermore, I think that people would enjoy reading about this journey. Could it be possible that people in my life, my community, and even strangers would want to support this girl in changing HER life? I've spent so many years trying to be the influential person in other people's lives, the shoulder to cry on, even the one to give advice. However, I need people to influence me in a positive direction right now. I need people to allow me to cry on their shoulder. I need people to give me advice. So maybe, just maybe, my first true attempt at letting the world in on my writing could be ever more so helpful to my recovery of ME.
What do you think... am I losing it? or could I possibly lose it in a way that could change my life for good?
Does that sound pathetic? Does it sound a little too psycho babble? Am I pulling at straws to keep a semblance of sanity in all of the ridiculous crises that continue to arise around me?
Honestly, I don't care. I need a project. I think that my project is going to be ME. I'm considering beginning a new blog about my losing it just two months shy of turning 30. I am actually considering promoting this blog to anyone and everyone I can and perhaps even making it a monetized blog. So here is the reason why...
I love to write. I want to take my life back from fate, or destiny, or my past, or whatever has been leading me down the paths I've taken in the past years. I want to be a healthy person inside and out. Furthermore, I think that people would enjoy reading about this journey. Could it be possible that people in my life, my community, and even strangers would want to support this girl in changing HER life? I've spent so many years trying to be the influential person in other people's lives, the shoulder to cry on, even the one to give advice. However, I need people to influence me in a positive direction right now. I need people to allow me to cry on their shoulder. I need people to give me advice. So maybe, just maybe, my first true attempt at letting the world in on my writing could be ever more so helpful to my recovery of ME.
What do you think... am I losing it? or could I possibly lose it in a way that could change my life for good?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
closure.
With some good advice and a lot of consideration, I have decided not to go to the funeral. I'm not sure if it is the "right" decision. I actually still have about an hour or two to change my mind, I guess. I just thought I'd babble to the world wide web about my thought process on this one.
Seven years ago... I was at Outlaw Ranch in the black hills of South Dakota. It was staff training and the summer had not yet begun, when I received the phone call from my brother telling me that Marie had died. Marie Uttech was a second mom to me. Her sons were about the same age as my brothers and I spent my childhood on their heels just trying to keep up playing with the boys. She had bandaged more than a few wounds and played and cooked and loved me as if I were a daughter to her. We had our "hug of the day"... and in my memory, I thought I must have gotten a Marie hug every day. I was heavy laden with the news of her death. Yet, I was not able to return for the funeral. Months had passed. I was driving through the smoky mountains with my brother on my way towards my new adventure in South Carolina when I realized that I was still grieving the loss. It had seemed completely unreal to me. There was a part of me that could just ignore that news from the end of May and expect to get my hug of the day the next time I was in Wisconsin.
November... I was in a hotel in Chattanooga, TN during our job fair for the new Earth Fare. It was late when mom called and I just knew it was bad news. I was extremely short with her. I didn't want to hear the small talk, just get to the point. Grandpa had fallen, hit his head, took a turn for the worst, and was going to die. Sitting up with my grandpa as he lived his last hours. Holding his hand as he took his last breaths. Being a witness to death. This was a new different experience for me. There was no denial. There was no ignoring it.
Closure is a funny thing. It always comes in different packages. Ted's death is peculiar. He was young and healthy. I have spoken on the phone to him three times in the past few months, but prior to that, we hadn't spoken in years. One of the phone conversations was terrible. I had yelled at him, called him irresponsible. I told him that he was selfish and made it very clear just how badly he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him with my words. It had been years, but somehow the pain of how our relationship had ended was right there at the surface. I feel very fortunate that this was not the phone conversation I have to remember as the last time I ever spoke to him. The last time I talked to him, I was driving to South Carolina after losing my job. It was a good conversation, oddly healing in many ways. And it gave some closure to the loss I had experienced four years ago. Now... now I deal with a different loss.
There is no way to explain why his death is so emotionally confusing for me. There is pain, anger, irony, shock, and so many other emotions that keep springing up from nowhere. I don't think I can get any sense of closure by attending his funeral. Seeing his parents, his brother, his friends... seeing his wife. Wife... the woman who called to inform me of his death. I do not wish to cause more grief for a grieving widow, but I also do not wish for that grieving widow to offer support for my grief.
So, no... I will not be attending the funeral tomorrow. I will go to his grave on my own at some point, and I will find my closure. Is it the right decision? I think its the right decision for me.
Seven years ago... I was at Outlaw Ranch in the black hills of South Dakota. It was staff training and the summer had not yet begun, when I received the phone call from my brother telling me that Marie had died. Marie Uttech was a second mom to me. Her sons were about the same age as my brothers and I spent my childhood on their heels just trying to keep up playing with the boys. She had bandaged more than a few wounds and played and cooked and loved me as if I were a daughter to her. We had our "hug of the day"... and in my memory, I thought I must have gotten a Marie hug every day. I was heavy laden with the news of her death. Yet, I was not able to return for the funeral. Months had passed. I was driving through the smoky mountains with my brother on my way towards my new adventure in South Carolina when I realized that I was still grieving the loss. It had seemed completely unreal to me. There was a part of me that could just ignore that news from the end of May and expect to get my hug of the day the next time I was in Wisconsin.
November... I was in a hotel in Chattanooga, TN during our job fair for the new Earth Fare. It was late when mom called and I just knew it was bad news. I was extremely short with her. I didn't want to hear the small talk, just get to the point. Grandpa had fallen, hit his head, took a turn for the worst, and was going to die. Sitting up with my grandpa as he lived his last hours. Holding his hand as he took his last breaths. Being a witness to death. This was a new different experience for me. There was no denial. There was no ignoring it.
Closure is a funny thing. It always comes in different packages. Ted's death is peculiar. He was young and healthy. I have spoken on the phone to him three times in the past few months, but prior to that, we hadn't spoken in years. One of the phone conversations was terrible. I had yelled at him, called him irresponsible. I told him that he was selfish and made it very clear just how badly he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him with my words. It had been years, but somehow the pain of how our relationship had ended was right there at the surface. I feel very fortunate that this was not the phone conversation I have to remember as the last time I ever spoke to him. The last time I talked to him, I was driving to South Carolina after losing my job. It was a good conversation, oddly healing in many ways. And it gave some closure to the loss I had experienced four years ago. Now... now I deal with a different loss.
There is no way to explain why his death is so emotionally confusing for me. There is pain, anger, irony, shock, and so many other emotions that keep springing up from nowhere. I don't think I can get any sense of closure by attending his funeral. Seeing his parents, his brother, his friends... seeing his wife. Wife... the woman who called to inform me of his death. I do not wish to cause more grief for a grieving widow, but I also do not wish for that grieving widow to offer support for my grief.
So, no... I will not be attending the funeral tomorrow. I will go to his grave on my own at some point, and I will find my closure. Is it the right decision? I think its the right decision for me.
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