Saturday, May 28, 2011

I Looked Back

I love watching TV that leaves me wanting to learn more about my own life and the lives of people around me.

I keep thinking of the Law and Order episode where Stabler had to connect with his mom. She had mental health issues and decided a longtime ago not to take her medication. People will mention this to me, what you give up when you go on anti depressants. I always tell them there was no option. I couldn’t function, I couldn’t get off the couch, there was only one choice to make, take the pills.

This week I went home to hang out with my parents for a few days of vacation, the one bottle of pills rolled under the couch and I was at Ma and Pa Duncan’s without them. I said I was fine but we agreed the next day to pick up the pills and run some errands in town.

Morning time off the meds was all about chatter, I remember talking through the whole cup of coffee. At one point my mom looked at me and started laughing “You’re funny” she said. And then we went to the local second hand cloths store and played dress up, we went through the cloths we thought were interesting and tried on things that we had no intention of buying.

At supper time I took the pill and sat at the table and looked at my potatoes, they were good potatoes. The next morning at coffee time I sat and looked out at the birds, I tried to find the same stories that were there the day before; after all it was still me right? But those stories weren’t there.

“We had so much fun yesterday.” My mom said.

I realized for 1 day I went back in time and met the girl who wanted to get a theatre degree, this was the girl who bounced around her bosses and confused them. This was the girl that people wanted to invite to parties because she was too much fun sober they wanted to see what happened when she drank.

“You know I can’t function like that.” I told my mom.

I can’t, at one point we crossed a small river in my sisters back yard and I had a panic attack because I couldn’t remember going to the other side. All of a sudden the river was on the other side of me. I can’t skip around the office all day talking about random things no matter how funny or insightful they seem, that and I would hate to see the drop from a high like that.

It’s been so long since I’ve been that girl that meeting her again gave me a shock. I realized she was the person I decided not to be. I saw what I was “giving up.” There is a little bit of magic I had in my life that is drowned by a cocktail of anti depressants, so that I can read, talk, live on my own and hold down a job.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


I had a decision to make this weekend. To go to a concert on Friday night and meet up with people I went to school with and reconnect as the people we are now. Or stay home and have wine and hummus with two people I’ve been building a relationship with over the past couple years.

I had to spend Friday night and Saturday morning getting the house and food ready so doing both wasn’t an option.

I stayed in town and got ready for the friends I knew I needed to hang out with people I could say anything to.

I love them dearly but I had no idea how much.

As I was cleaning I realized that I had just as much right to go to the concert. The people I went to school with were asking about me, wondering how I was doing. My sister would be there and she’s a big part of the community that was putting the concert on. And Alex would be there and I really enjoyed meeting her and it would be nice to build a stronger connection.

So that makes the commitment to go to the next concert even greater.

As the car pulled up to drop me off at my door after two hours of veggies, hummus and wine; after two hours of Thor and feeling like the world belonged to us I said “How do I go back to real life after this?” How do I go back to being alone after all this company? I was frightened for a moment but realized I made the right decision to hang out with them.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Fire in Darkness

It seemed like a lot of work and I wondered if it was worth it, to walk around the living room and place candles on every flat surface. In the end I would just have to blow them out and each candle would send off a wave of smoke into the air stuffing up the room.

I made sure they were all put in places that wouldn’t easily catch on fire and each candle had a little tray to sit in. I didn’t want the wax to melt on the carpet, the piano, the shelves.

There was no company coming, I was doing this all for me, it was such a crazy day at work, I wanted to do something special I needed to relax.

When all the candles were lit I sat in the middle of the floor, I started by closing my eyes, but it was dark, so slowly I opened them; took it all in. I realized I didn’t want my eyes closed; I wanted them open to the world.

The lights are so beautiful around me.

I watch the flames become the other life form in my apartment ideas and feelings race around with them, there are answers about why I was stressed today and my heart warms.

I feel the tension of the day burn like the wick and melt away like the wax to my toes.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Pillow Stories

When you read a story, when you finish it could you tell it to someone from your heart? Tell them as you remember it as you interpret it. Emphathize the parts where you learned from it, convey the images and explanations that kept you reading, and then give it your own twist? Could I?

It’s a question I asked myself last night, as the crazy fantasies slip away, I’m influenced by the story telling sessions I’ve been to and I learn to live in the moment the need for stories to occupy me heightens.

I was thinking about what I remembered of “The Hobbit” and the last story I read “Anils Ghost” and how important it was to understand and interpret what I read to help me with my own work which is still stalled and not going as well as I want it to. The next story I read, I write, can it be shared with a friend? With you? Can I tell my own stories in a confident way and let them live as they are even though I see the flaws in them?

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Scratching the Surface

[My Diary] became a friend, the paper that it was made of was ready and willing to accept anything and everything I had to say."
— Zlata Filipović

It's been a crazy week, I started watching the news again after the debauch that was the election, worked some overtime, skipped out of a book reading (I wasn't reading nor do I have a book) and was so exhausted I couldn't run my route after work. I created an opinion about Bin Laden and was led by feelings that I couldn't understand; I couldn't understand why I wasn't happy that the man who allegedly orchestrated the deaths of thousands by flying plans in the twin towers was killed. I decided you don't celebrate a killing, you respect it, you don't kill a mass murderer when he's not armed, you capture him and give him a trial, as you would want to be given a trial if you were fighting for your beliefs.

I had much help learning how to express that.

I realized I was only scratching the surface of things I could know, things that would give me opinions and strength.

I floated on a huge high, by seeing how beautiful I was to have my own opinions and convictions and freedoms, to understanding some of the loneliness that comes from the distance and the hours alone.

I went to a second hand cloths store on Friday night. I've been bar staff and hotel staff and then call centre for years; it’s only the last couple of months that I've been off Friday at five. I marched right up to the second had cloths store and spent the money that I had earned in the paycheck. I then went to the grocery store and bought what I needed for Pizza Night with Tink. I sat and talked to her like she were my journal, except that I could ask her questions about her life. Except we talked about real stuff and I wanted more from my journal.

not my photo

I write every morning in my journal, in the Artists Way you learn to write about anything and nothing. So I spend 20 minutes of my day barely awake babbling about nothing, just to clear my mind, although this has been my security log for a long time it's time to start swimming in the river on my own and do things I've never done, let myself write real things in the morning.

I realized it was crazy that I could write 20 minutes a day and not have anything for a blog, and only lines that I pull out and give a piece of paper to brainstorm idea. But never brainstorm the idea.

So here's to new goals: here's to being more in touch with the world around me and educating myself to form better opinions, Here's to spending 20 minutes a day writing a little bit more substance and Here's to loving the crap out of my friends.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

You Can Read That Too

I’d like to take a moment to thank my parents and teachers for letting me read anything I want. For telling us how bad it is to censor a person’s reading. They let me choose whatever I want, whether there is swearing, sex or the occasional cannibalism (if you haven’t read “The Road” yet get to it). I’ve learned never to tell a person not to read a book. There are many books that have upset me emotionally or books that the writing style frustrated me, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t passed them along to people who are interested with nothing more than a simple explanation as to why I stopped.

Here’s to being conscious about what I tell people not to do.

A little Ghost Dance

Friday, May 6, 2011


Today is about confidence. About believing in who I am and the decisions I’ve made that brought me here. To not worry about telling the truth about who I am. About being strong enough to want to share that person with other people and being in love with who I am. Even though I see myself as different.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Things I've Learned

The way I process things is changing so I'm totally seeing and interpreting the world differently.

I learned that I have to take my time. Take time to rest to talk to laugh.

That although I like to live by my own rules there are some rules I need to follow.

I've learned not to be frustrated by what I can't do.

That people have secrets that I have secrets and sometimes it's ok to tell the right person.

There's confidence to try new things.

I keep learning to go to my friends for help.