Over my head

I still hate the moods they list in this damn thing.  I have been advised that more than a month without an entry is too long.  Maybe the person who advised me as such is right, but sometimes I just can't really say everything I want to say here.  Sometimes I just can't say everything I want to say at all.  The words get stuck because I am so worried that I am going to say the wrong thing or hurt someone.

I am losing what little of myself I knew.  I feel sick almost all the time now.  When I first moved here I almost never had headaches after all the stress and the constantly being sick at home in NY.  It was a whole new chance to start over, and yet, I just couldn't do it without bringing the drama with me to some extent.  Either that or it just likes to follow me.  That God... he's got a funny sense of humor one way or the other.

There are days where I just want to sleep forever to get out of the situation I'm in.  I am slowly talking to Doc again, and I would like to get to know him, but he doesn't get it.  He says he's not all about the story, but at the same time thats what it comes down to all the time.  That fucking story.  I almost wish sometimes we never started it.  Don't get me wrong, I loved it.  It was amazing and erotic and wonderful, but... I just... I have spent so much of my life living in a fantasy I don't want that to be the only connection to someone.  (I'm sorry I haven't had the balls to express this to your face, when / if you read this)

And my Sam... he says he loves me and I believe him, and god help I love him too, but I don't know if I love him the right way... and I am losing myself and who I am more and more every day.  Today was the first day that other than the first call early in the morning that I have blown off his calls.  And it was nice not to be fit in in the little trips throughout his day.

I have done the one thing I never wanted to do.  I compromised one of my biggest moral issues.  I touched on it when I got together with John since he was still technically married (she was out of the house, and they were separated) but this... this one changes who I am and how I view myself and I don't like it.  I have stopped being viable creatively.  I feel God may have stripped of me of my one gift for this.  I stopped going to church because well one... I don't like the pastor, but two because of how awful I feel going there because I know how awful I am.  I joke at work all the time that I am going to hell, but I know that I will.

Christy is a trip she keeps asking me to go to her house and stuff, and me and my aborted social skills... I keep feeling like the geek in school that gets asked by the popular kids.  Part of me feels like why would she want to be friends with me... and its funny because sometimes I think they expect that because I'm from NY that I should be more elite, more sophisticated as I was told once there... but god help I am from a middle class family and have no education.  Christy has an education, a loving husband who would do anything for her... according to her she has a great sex life... omg a real sex life something I haven't had since I left NY....

I look in the mirror and hate what I see.

Two out of three still aint bad

I just woke up, went to sleep around 11, took the sleeping pills (just otc ones cause I don't have real ones... that might be abit dangerous for me) and slept through til well about 6.  Now I am doing the one thing I didn't do yesterday.  I'm already on the computer.  I need to get myself motivated to either clean or get out to the "gym" and I can't.  I am not motivated to do anything but maybe have another one of my "Brian Wilson" Days.  Thats what it makes me think of when I have days like that where I can't get out of bed.  Like the BareNaked Ladies song Brian Wilson, but then again I don't want to be like that and I don't write music :-\ .  Maybe not so much.  In any case I'll write more later.

I love you I need you I just can't be with you....

Funny how that statement is always so prevalent in my life.  How about you only hurt the ones you love... so wouldn't the years I spent abusing myself prove that I just love myself...

And apparently there is a world of people who LOVE me too...

I only wonder

I only wonder what I've done wrong now.  I can't help feeling like this sometimes, and I know it may be more his situation, but mine, but I was rude and snappish before I went to sleep, and I don't know that that was necessarily good.

On the upside two online friends I hadn't seen in a while came back this week, so thats one nice thing.

Wish me luck, I think I might actually step on a scale at work, provided its not like last night and I actually get a free minute.

::sigh:: time to finish getting dressed.  I hope he comes on, but lord help how do I fix things if he doesn't?

A wonderful start

Just the start I wanted to the new year, disappointing the one person I never wanted to hurt by speaking the truth in my journal.  Even when it is favorable to him, it isn't enough because I try to speak plainly and honestly.  Leave it to me I guess.  It will more than likely be some time before my next entry despite his promise that he will not read it because it is not geared for him to read, it is geared for everyone or no one to read.  Might I note that never, given our situation has he specifically made mention of me, but I do not gripe and moan.  And for him to turn around and say some of the very few things he said on the topic bothers me greatly.

Perhaps the cabin and the manifesto are not so far away after all...

Another year down...

One day I might have to change the name of this thing if I can, or just start a new one.  Maybe not today.  Another year winding down, and I have got to say its been a hell of a year.  Lots of changes.  A lot of uncertainty, and a lot of resolution to some things.  Those who are close to me know a lot of the issues that precipitated my move here.  The turmoil sparked by forgotten memories.  Slowly, I've begun to let go of somethings and some relationships that were decidedly unhealthy. 

I am still in contact with John, which sometimes breaks my heart, but most of the time just angers and/or aggrivates me.  Sometimes, despite all the anger, resentment and disgust I wonder if I can fix him/ help him.  He's got potential... somewhere.  However for the most part I know its a lost cause.

Its odd to me, the boy that I started writing this journal about and I haven't spoken in ages now.  He crosses my mind from time to time, but fewer and far between.  I know that this is for the best.  While he claimed to want the best for me, his true joy came from the misery I continued to have.  Not due to his presence in my life, but still thriving on it, and my life seems improved now.

I still talk to "Doc" online, and we've talked about talking more.  And then we fall away again.  Is there/was there something not realized there?  Distance is a bitch.  I know this from all aspects in my life.  In his case the nickname stuck because he liked it :) 

Bryan and I still talk from time to time as well, online, not on the phone, since we've both moved, changed phone numbers etc. etc.  and we're both in different places now than we were.  I miss the friendship we have.  Caught the show Bones for the first time today.  Its no Angel, but I did think of all those nights spent in silence except for commercials.

And of course the one, who has helped me through this year of change, of growth, in more ways than I could begin to discuss here.  There is so much I want to say, and I don't have the exact words.  Of course the day is more important than just the new beginning because it is his birthday.  I would have been so far behind, so lost if not for his calm, strength, generosity, and guidance.  Most importantly the love he's given me.  I will be eternally grateful for all that we share despite its imperfections.

A year with my first new apartment, purely my own, no room mates, no boyfriends, no parents.  My own decorating.

A now not so new job, non retail for the first time in several years.

The car still diagnosed in good health by the fine people at firestone, and if they can diagnose indy cars they can diagnose mine though when I first brought it in they accused me of drag racing with it.  Who Me? NAHHH!

Thats my benign boring life in review.  The best to anyone who stops by this space in the coming year!

The Ghosts of Christmas

This actually isn't the music I was looking to listen to, but somehow it seems to fit.  Someone special taught me that sometimes its the simplest most quiet of voices that speaks the loudest.  Rather than the huge orchestral arrangements I was looking for originally this is what seems to fit.

We did Christmas this morning at my Aunt's house.  It was nice.  We all did the traditional Christmas.  We ate too much, opened in minutes what took someone hours (in two cases, my aunts gifts and my own) to wrap.  The kids were thrilled to death with the haul.  I opened the gifts from my mother, which were far too many due to the other kindnesses that she gave me this season.

I got my pajamas, and slipper socks.  In my family you get pajamas for Christmas its just the way it is.  Now that I am home, and decompressed from the loudness and business from the day, and clad in said pajamas I can kind of sit back and reflect on them.  God knows it must sound so silly to be in tears over something so simple, but in my life there have been so many things that have fallen flat, and fallen away, something this simple that's so constant is a precious joy.

First let me cover this a little, you'll see this is written around 4pm and you're probably thinking pajamas... huh?  But I've worked a lot this week, and overnight and haven't slept yet today darnit!  Pajamas are ok.

For as long as I could remember I've gotten pajamas for Christmas.  Christmas eve when I was little we used to go visit Aunt Mary, an elderly relative of ours.  She was actually my like great great aunt or something.  We would spend some time there, and then leave lamenting how she didn't live all that far away, and we should visit more.  Lord, that woman could COOK!  Even in her older years.  She made all the stuff that you pay a oodles for in an Italian restaurant.  (Pasta Fagouil etc.)  We did what last minute stuff we might have, and we'd have a big meal of baked macaroni, and fried flounder.  I was raised Catholic and Christmas Eve was strictly meat less.  And that was the meal, still is I think.  Occasionally someone will throw in some shrimp cocktail but that's about the only difference.

My Aunt who was out of the house came and would eat, when I was little though her presents would wait til Christmas day.  Then we'd load up in the cars and head to my other Aunt's who's house was like an all night buffet on Christmas eve.  Food more than you could imagine.  Lasagna, Eggplant Parmesan and plenty of Italian bread, salad, trays of olives and pickles, deviled eggs, crackers and pepperoni and cheese including the dreaded to me anyway provolone, or sock cheese as my sister coined it in later years regarding its  dirty sock aroma.  Always a bowl of red hard boiled eggs which I would come to know the symbolism of in later years.  That's just the food, we haven't even gotten to the desserts.  Family and neighbors bringing trays of cookies from the bakeries or that they made, or pastries or canolies and pies and cakes.  You could gain 50 lbs looking at the table.  Thats personally what I attribute my whole weight on.  (Not really)

There would be presents to open there and we'd ooh and ahh and late in the evening we'd go home.  Around 10:30 sometimes as late as 11.  Somehow it seems as we got older we started coming home earlier, but that's and age thing I'm sure.  Santa always seemed to want to come earlier as we got older and my sister was at the Santa age. 

We'd go home, set the scene for Santa and then we could pick one present under the tree to open to make more room for the Santa presents.  Mine was always the clothes box, always from my Grandfather (whom we lived with) and it was always pajamas.  You went to bed on Christmas eve in your Christmas pajamas.  When you came down the next morning Santa had always come.

My grandfather was gone three years on the 15th, and somehow when I get the box that I know are the pajamas I still expect the tag to say love pop-pop.  Of course I still expect him to answer the phone at my mom's (Formerly his house) when I call too.  31 now, and still getting the Christmas pajamas, still wearing them on Christmas eve.  When and if I ever have children, they will be allowed to open one present on Christmas eve...

We had this little metal chime that was stars inside of stars that rang.  My aunt anna gave it to us when I was 5 and when you heard it on Christmas eve night it meant Santa had been there and he was leaving.  Of course as I got older and began my obsession with its a wonderful life I also learned that lots of angels got their wings that night.  Its one thing that in my various moves from home I have been missing on my tree was a bell that actually rang.  This year someone who is very dear to me sent me one, and touched me in a whole new way.  Because its a bell from his tree, from his own mother's ornaments.  The "Angel" Bell..

I don't need Santa to ring it for me though because I already have so many gifts and have been so blessed this year.  More than I can ever really explain.  My Aunt that I am close to here now that I have moved to Tenn.  tells me all the time that I need to go out more that I will never meet real friends online, but so many of the people that I have met online have blessed me and have touched my life in so many ways.

And of course there are more malevolent spirits that raise their head at this time of year.  The broken dreams, like misfit toys almost that like to creep in.  The losses, family, friends, that I hate, that I lament.  That I wish I could fix.  Some things can't be fixed, and some things shouldn't be "fixed" because what's fixed for me isn't necessarily fixed for them.

Long story short, Thank you, a huge and loving thank you to all the people in my life that have blessed me this year and in all the years before.  To those who shone light in my path when it was darkest.  To those who help and guide when I am lost.  To those who shut up and listen when I need to rant, and let me know when I need to shut up and listen.  Thank you for touching my life.  Thank you for being in my life.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.