The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.
Marcus Arelius Antonius; 121-180 A.D.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
lately i've been waking out of urgency
"Violent dreams, every night,
Lately I've been waking out of urgency
Something I said, something I did
Is bringing on this violent emergency
One black day in ghostly white
For just another sleepless night"
-Jump Little Children
I was a complete insomniac for a while. I couldn't get to sleep, and when I finally did, I would wake up every two or three hours. Sleep at 1:00. Awake at 3:00...4:00...5:30...now worried that I will actually fall asleep and miss my alarm...and finally decide to just get up. This was a total shock to me because I have always been the girl who can fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Get me somewhat comfortable and I will start to nod off. But for months I couldn't sleep. I went through a period with my doctor trying out different sleep aids and discovered Ambien. Sweet, sweet Ambien. You sleep the sleep of angels with Ambien - a friend described the first moments of waking up as feeling like everything is right with the world, like you are floating in a warm bath, like you're wrapped in a cloud. Sounds good, right? Unfortunately for these reasons, most people like Ambien too much and never want to stop taking it (understandably so), and because my sleep deprivation seemed to be more than temporary, I had to end that love affair. She put me on a different drug that is normally prescribed for people with migraines, but that makes you drowsy, and after a while my sleep returned to normal without any help at all.
It's been months, maybe a year, since I've had trouble sleeping, for the most part, until this week. I had a cold, or allergies, or the flu, or something this weekend, and spent most of Sunday on the couch watching bad TV. Laura brought me cold medecine, and I took some theraflu before bed. I slept fitfully in every sense of the word, tossing and turning, and when I finally fell asleep I had the most terrible dream. It was a dream so awful I haven't spoken a word of it to anyone, and I don't know if I will. It was violent and personal and entirely disturbing, so much so that I woke myself up crying. It was 5:00 AM. I got out of bed, washed my face, drank some water, tried to convince myself that it didn't really happen. But it was one of those dreams that is so vivid, you think it's real. I tried to go back to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, the dream replayed.
I am a believer that your dreams are an expression of what your brain is still chewing on. Sometimes the message is clear, and sometimes it seems like nothing you dream makes sense. I know this dream directly relates to some anger I am holding on to, and I know that there are a lot of things in my life that are transitional at the moment, so my anxiety levels are probably higher than I think they are. If I can take anything away from the dream other than fear, I think I should heed the message that I need to be cared for, and that probably needs to come from myself. Maybe that means slowing down, saying no, staying home, being intentional with my time and the things, people, and messages that feed me. Maybe I need to find a way to get some of the anger out.
The hard part is when you slow down and listen, and you don't necessarily like what you hear inside yourself. I like to believe that I am an island to myself, self-sufficient, without chinks in my armor. Of course, I am not. I am stronger than I thought myself to be, I've survived and endured situations that I didn't expect I would be able to. But, like everyone else, as much as I am strong, sometimes I'm flawed and weak, I get sad and angry, lonely and scared. That is just the human condition, it's the same road that we all walk. What I cannot figure out is why we so often pretend that we're the only ones there?
My challenge now is to pay attention to whatever it is that needs to be recognized so I can rest again. I've been afraid of sleeping because I don't want to have the same dreams again. All I can do is pay attention.
"One more day
I'm always taking the dive
All it takes is all I can give
All my waking hours just to see you live
Through this sleepless night"
Lately I've been waking out of urgency
Something I said, something I did
Is bringing on this violent emergency
One black day in ghostly white
For just another sleepless night"
-Jump Little Children
I was a complete insomniac for a while. I couldn't get to sleep, and when I finally did, I would wake up every two or three hours. Sleep at 1:00. Awake at 3:00...4:00...5:30...now worried that I will actually fall asleep and miss my alarm...and finally decide to just get up. This was a total shock to me because I have always been the girl who can fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Get me somewhat comfortable and I will start to nod off. But for months I couldn't sleep. I went through a period with my doctor trying out different sleep aids and discovered Ambien. Sweet, sweet Ambien. You sleep the sleep of angels with Ambien - a friend described the first moments of waking up as feeling like everything is right with the world, like you are floating in a warm bath, like you're wrapped in a cloud. Sounds good, right? Unfortunately for these reasons, most people like Ambien too much and never want to stop taking it (understandably so), and because my sleep deprivation seemed to be more than temporary, I had to end that love affair. She put me on a different drug that is normally prescribed for people with migraines, but that makes you drowsy, and after a while my sleep returned to normal without any help at all.
It's been months, maybe a year, since I've had trouble sleeping, for the most part, until this week. I had a cold, or allergies, or the flu, or something this weekend, and spent most of Sunday on the couch watching bad TV. Laura brought me cold medecine, and I took some theraflu before bed. I slept fitfully in every sense of the word, tossing and turning, and when I finally fell asleep I had the most terrible dream. It was a dream so awful I haven't spoken a word of it to anyone, and I don't know if I will. It was violent and personal and entirely disturbing, so much so that I woke myself up crying. It was 5:00 AM. I got out of bed, washed my face, drank some water, tried to convince myself that it didn't really happen. But it was one of those dreams that is so vivid, you think it's real. I tried to go back to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, the dream replayed.
I am a believer that your dreams are an expression of what your brain is still chewing on. Sometimes the message is clear, and sometimes it seems like nothing you dream makes sense. I know this dream directly relates to some anger I am holding on to, and I know that there are a lot of things in my life that are transitional at the moment, so my anxiety levels are probably higher than I think they are. If I can take anything away from the dream other than fear, I think I should heed the message that I need to be cared for, and that probably needs to come from myself. Maybe that means slowing down, saying no, staying home, being intentional with my time and the things, people, and messages that feed me. Maybe I need to find a way to get some of the anger out.
The hard part is when you slow down and listen, and you don't necessarily like what you hear inside yourself. I like to believe that I am an island to myself, self-sufficient, without chinks in my armor. Of course, I am not. I am stronger than I thought myself to be, I've survived and endured situations that I didn't expect I would be able to. But, like everyone else, as much as I am strong, sometimes I'm flawed and weak, I get sad and angry, lonely and scared. That is just the human condition, it's the same road that we all walk. What I cannot figure out is why we so often pretend that we're the only ones there?
My challenge now is to pay attention to whatever it is that needs to be recognized so I can rest again. I've been afraid of sleeping because I don't want to have the same dreams again. All I can do is pay attention.
"One more day
I'm always taking the dive
All it takes is all I can give
All my waking hours just to see you live
Through this sleepless night"
Friday, July 18, 2008
make it work
Joy of all joys, Project Runway is on again. I have something to live for again. I watched the first episode at midnight last night, and honestly most of the kids didn't make much of an impression on me, except this one, Korto...she is my pick.
How do you make cherry tomatos sparkle like diamonds? I think this girl is magical.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
the other
Today the executive director of the nonprofit I am now working for exclaimed from her office, "I can't believe I'm an 'other'!"
She's going to be interviewed on the Trinity Broadcast Network, a local Christian African-American broadcast channel.
The options for race on her interviewee form?
Black
Spanish
American Indian
Asian
OTHER
She continued to go on and on about how excited she was to finally be called an "other". Did I mention how pleased I am to actually enjoy the people I work with?
She's going to be interviewed on the Trinity Broadcast Network, a local Christian African-American broadcast channel.
The options for race on her interviewee form?
Black
Spanish
American Indian
Asian
OTHER
She continued to go on and on about how excited she was to finally be called an "other". Did I mention how pleased I am to actually enjoy the people I work with?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
and you may ask yourself...where does that highway go?
"This morning I woke up, feelin brand new, I jumped up, feelin my highs and my lows, in my soul, and my goals, just to stop smoking and stop drinkin, but I been thinkin I got my reasons just to get by, just to get by..."
-Talib Kweli, Just to Get By
So, I've been gone for a while. No posts since...I don't know? Since I was a little obsessed with Sweet Valley High? Since I desired to be more like Jessica Wakefield?
Gentle readers, let me give you a bit of an update on the events of my life over the past six weeks or so...
Shortly after I spent the better part of a work day researching Sweet Valley, I was informed that I was no longer employed due to the fact that my position was not profitable. Was this a surprise? Not really. Did I loathe every moment of working there? Abso-fucking-lutely. There was nothing redeeming about that job except that I was paid and I had health insurance. Was I terrified, shell shocked, anxiety ridden? Without a doubt. I had spent 8 months prior to receiving my pink slip (which was not, in fact, pink) applying for jobs. I applied to at least 40 or 50 jobs, and had three interviews, two for the same job. I had also applied and been accepted to graduate school, but because I was almost as terrified of student loans and uprooting my life as I was of unemployment, I had let a deadline to pay my matriculation fee pass. To put it mildly, I felt fucked. Like I was Atreyu and the Nothing had chased me into the Swamp of Sadness.
Sometimes life kicks you in the ass, and that kick knocks you down and hurts like a bitch. And then you realize your fall has pushed you in a new direction. Yes, I spent a few days crying and drinking excessively. But once I found myself buying two twelve packs of Budweiser Select at the same time, "just in case", I had a reality check and moved on. I started sitting with myself, writing in my journal, checking in a few times each day, getting out of the house and going to coffee shops to send out my resume over and over again. And I paid my matriculation fee and enrolled in school. It was kind of weird, being out in the world in the middle of the day in the middle of the week, like when you left school early for a doctor's appointment or, if you were so inclined, skipped class.
The next hurdle was staying afloat financially and paying for my medication until I could find a job again. The trick was also that I needed full time work until September when school started, and then part time work after then, and both needed to pay enough for me to get by. My biggest challenge was to daily renew my trust that the Universe would always care for me, and that my dreams and visions were not given to me to be crushed. What I found in the in between time was not the Nothing. I was lifted out of sadness. It was rest, renewal, freedom, new life, exploration, faith, humility, and above all, grace. In the moments when I didn't know how I would make it through, what I needed would appear out of nowhere. Odd jobs or gifts here and there, a way out of no way.
Humbleness. This is one of the greatest things I had to learn. Accepting the kindness and generosity of friends and family when I needed it. I'm not very good at asking for help, but I had to. And one of the things I had to do was go to the Department of Labor and file for unemployment benefits. That was really a surreal experience, but it honestly wasn't that bad. And the next day I got a call from the job I really wanted, and they offered me the position. It was part time, which I didn't know how I would work out until classes started and my loans kicked in, but another miracle occured - they asked if I would work full time until then. I never had to draw unemployment. I have no idea how these things have all happened. I guess I don't have to.
For a while, everything seemed like shit pie. But everything has transformed. I'm not dragging myself out of bed every day to walk into a building I hate, to a job with people I can't relate to and nothing to do, where I loathe every moment. I don't cry on the way to my car after work, dreading returning the next day. I don't carry that burden anymore. I actually like getting up in the morning. I like the people I work with. Hell, I actually TALK to them. My gifts are finally being used. It is like the world just opened up. For that I am grateful.
-Talib Kweli, Just to Get By
So, I've been gone for a while. No posts since...I don't know? Since I was a little obsessed with Sweet Valley High? Since I desired to be more like Jessica Wakefield?
Gentle readers, let me give you a bit of an update on the events of my life over the past six weeks or so...
Shortly after I spent the better part of a work day researching Sweet Valley, I was informed that I was no longer employed due to the fact that my position was not profitable. Was this a surprise? Not really. Did I loathe every moment of working there? Abso-fucking-lutely. There was nothing redeeming about that job except that I was paid and I had health insurance. Was I terrified, shell shocked, anxiety ridden? Without a doubt. I had spent 8 months prior to receiving my pink slip (which was not, in fact, pink) applying for jobs. I applied to at least 40 or 50 jobs, and had three interviews, two for the same job. I had also applied and been accepted to graduate school, but because I was almost as terrified of student loans and uprooting my life as I was of unemployment, I had let a deadline to pay my matriculation fee pass. To put it mildly, I felt fucked. Like I was Atreyu and the Nothing had chased me into the Swamp of Sadness.
Sometimes life kicks you in the ass, and that kick knocks you down and hurts like a bitch. And then you realize your fall has pushed you in a new direction. Yes, I spent a few days crying and drinking excessively. But once I found myself buying two twelve packs of Budweiser Select at the same time, "just in case", I had a reality check and moved on. I started sitting with myself, writing in my journal, checking in a few times each day, getting out of the house and going to coffee shops to send out my resume over and over again. And I paid my matriculation fee and enrolled in school. It was kind of weird, being out in the world in the middle of the day in the middle of the week, like when you left school early for a doctor's appointment or, if you were so inclined, skipped class.
The next hurdle was staying afloat financially and paying for my medication until I could find a job again. The trick was also that I needed full time work until September when school started, and then part time work after then, and both needed to pay enough for me to get by. My biggest challenge was to daily renew my trust that the Universe would always care for me, and that my dreams and visions were not given to me to be crushed. What I found in the in between time was not the Nothing. I was lifted out of sadness. It was rest, renewal, freedom, new life, exploration, faith, humility, and above all, grace. In the moments when I didn't know how I would make it through, what I needed would appear out of nowhere. Odd jobs or gifts here and there, a way out of no way.
Humbleness. This is one of the greatest things I had to learn. Accepting the kindness and generosity of friends and family when I needed it. I'm not very good at asking for help, but I had to. And one of the things I had to do was go to the Department of Labor and file for unemployment benefits. That was really a surreal experience, but it honestly wasn't that bad. And the next day I got a call from the job I really wanted, and they offered me the position. It was part time, which I didn't know how I would work out until classes started and my loans kicked in, but another miracle occured - they asked if I would work full time until then. I never had to draw unemployment. I have no idea how these things have all happened. I guess I don't have to.
For a while, everything seemed like shit pie. But everything has transformed. I'm not dragging myself out of bed every day to walk into a building I hate, to a job with people I can't relate to and nothing to do, where I loathe every moment. I don't cry on the way to my car after work, dreading returning the next day. I don't carry that burden anymore. I actually like getting up in the morning. I like the people I work with. Hell, I actually TALK to them. My gifts are finally being used. It is like the world just opened up. For that I am grateful.
"Look at the sky to survive, people try to get by, fightin force, slice of the pie, tryin to eat and be high. How you know you really alive if you don't reach for the sky? How your eyes keep on the prize...What you seek and you'll find..."
-Talib Kweli, Just to Get By
penny lane
I rescued a lovely little weiner dog a few weeks ago. The name she was given by the adoption agency was Mrs. Robinson, which was pretty cute, but its hard to say "Mrs. Robinson" every time you call her name. So, I named her Penny Lane. I suppose she's Mrs. Penny Lane Robinson? I could have given her my last name, or hypenated, but she's a woman of the world, and I'll let her keep her maiden name.She's about six years old and 13 pounds, she's tiny and adorable. I like to say she's a survivor of sexual slavery. It's true, she was in a puppy mill and they think she had six or seven litters. They left her outside and she got heartworms. She's cured now, thankfully. They left her at Animal Control, and she was lucky to be picked up by a dashchund rescue. And then she found her way to me. When I met her, the first the I noticed was, well...her saggy boobs. She came by them honestly, she's suckled a lot of pups in her day. I keep convincing myself that they're not as saggy as they were when I got her, but I think I'm just used to them now. But she's still the prettiest little thing. And I can't judge her for her womanly shape. And I'll have saggy boobs one day, too.
She was pretty shy and scared when I got her, but she and I have really bonded, and she's way more outgoing these days. She is super spoiled and she's getting more bold in approaching people. She had an adjustment period and chewed up some of my stuff - my favorite pair of flip flops, my ipod charger. It was amazing how she picked the best stuff. It's like she has a sixth sense. I found one of my red high heels, which I love, in her crate yesterday. Luckily she hadn't done any damage yet. But despite her penchant for shoes, she's great. I gave her a bath for the first time last night and she was so well behaved. I never really understood dogs being "man's best friend", but I totally get it now. She's my girl. I don't know what I did without her.
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