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Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
snuggly baby time
I am camped out on riah's living room floor...surfing the interwebs and snuggling Drake. He is protesting the end of his "show" and that he is most definitely not tired. However, his show is finished... we will not be starting a new one and I don't care if he isn't tired... as soon as I am finished with this post, we are going to bed.
I talked to Tim today... first time since I gave him the ol' red light. It felt good to just hear how he is doing... his Grandma died and the funeral is this weekend. Part of me wanted to offer to go with him... and the other part thinks that it would be cruel. I am not his girlfriend and emotional situations like that seem to intensify feels. I can't be anybody's anything right now... so I refrained and gave him my condolences.
Wish I could give him a hug and hold him for a while. Death sucks. I have come to realize that in the face of true pain, words fail. I have them in my brain, but really, what can someone say to make it better?? Nothing. How much better to speak condolences with our actions... and leave the words to others satisfied with sayings (often from bathroom plaques and embroidered throw pillows). Well world. I am tired and am going to bed.
I talked to Tim today... first time since I gave him the ol' red light. It felt good to just hear how he is doing... his Grandma died and the funeral is this weekend. Part of me wanted to offer to go with him... and the other part thinks that it would be cruel. I am not his girlfriend and emotional situations like that seem to intensify feels. I can't be anybody's anything right now... so I refrained and gave him my condolences.
Wish I could give him a hug and hold him for a while. Death sucks. I have come to realize that in the face of true pain, words fail. I have them in my brain, but really, what can someone say to make it better?? Nothing. How much better to speak condolences with our actions... and leave the words to others satisfied with sayings (often from bathroom plaques and embroidered throw pillows). Well world. I am tired and am going to bed.
What's up my biotches??
Today is crazy... lots of hurry up and wait... moving crap between warehouses is so fun *insert sarcastic face*
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Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
must be feeling bloggylicious
Three posts in one day..... holy guacamole! Figured I would just say that I will be grateful to lose myself in my job this week. I think I have reached my limit for emoting this weekend.
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changes.... a shit ton of changes
This is me... pulling off the bandages and wearing my scars. Triage is over. I am ready to heal.
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blogging
I updated myself on Britt's blog "www.frickinbrittanyb.tumblr.com." and am feeling inspired to write.
Lately I feel like I am having the same conversation over and over... not so much of a feeling as a fact. In light of the fact that I am sleeping more, and can't use sleep-dep as an excuse for my emotions, I am finally starting to deal with what has happened. This is not a pretty process.
I am mad... can't hide it... can't escape it... I am fucking mad. I am allowing myself to feel how I feel. This is not something I do very often. It feels foreign and wrong but impossibly unavoidable.
In the wake of my anger, it still leaves just me... but who the hell is that anymore?? I define myself in the role I play, and that my friend, is ever burgeoning...
I am what is left when the rest is burned away.
In all of this anger and personal change there is hope too. I can feel it pulling at my bones... mixed in with each breath, and in each squeezy smooshie faced hug. At least with all this well of emotions, I am aware. The pain and doubt come in waves, but I am not numb to it. It feels kind of brave. My motto has always been, keep your head down and your feet moving... and I can't live like that anymore. I have my head and my heart up. We (my heart and I) are abused but not dead. There is hope in that.
Lately I feel like I am having the same conversation over and over... not so much of a feeling as a fact. In light of the fact that I am sleeping more, and can't use sleep-dep as an excuse for my emotions, I am finally starting to deal with what has happened. This is not a pretty process.
I am mad... can't hide it... can't escape it... I am fucking mad. I am allowing myself to feel how I feel. This is not something I do very often. It feels foreign and wrong but impossibly unavoidable.
In the wake of my anger, it still leaves just me... but who the hell is that anymore?? I define myself in the role I play, and that my friend, is ever burgeoning...
I am what is left when the rest is burned away.
In all of this anger and personal change there is hope too. I can feel it pulling at my bones... mixed in with each breath, and in each squeezy smooshie faced hug. At least with all this well of emotions, I am aware. The pain and doubt come in waves, but I am not numb to it. It feels kind of brave. My motto has always been, keep your head down and your feet moving... and I can't live like that anymore. I have my head and my heart up. We (my heart and I) are abused but not dead. There is hope in that.
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