Back from the dead.

It's been years since I wrote here, which is probably a good thing.  I tend to write when I'm down, so one could surmise that I've been happy.  Which is true, for the most part.  I'm happier now than I can ever remember being, but at the same time, I'm miserable.  I hate Colorado.  It's beautiful here, yes, but in a barren, severe way.  It doesn't provide the forage our animals need, it's hell on the horses' hooves and it causes me to be constantly itchy, flaky and dry.  My sinuses are constantly dry and bloody.  I miss seeing green.  Everything here is in shades of brown and yellow.

Sheri is great.  She loves me, she puts up with my shit, she cares about my well being...but jesus christ, sometimes she's a complete prick.  Today, she told me to "shut up", which is one of my biggest triggers.  Respect me, don't give me fucking orders.

It's been a while,

I haven't really blogged since moving, most of my writing has been in my hard copy journal lately. I enjoy the feedback potential of blogs, but sometimes I need to feel the paper under my hand, the scratch of my pen against it.

I've been in Colorado for nearly 2 months now. Funny, it seems far longer than that. Life here is different, definitely, but not in a bad way. I am in love with this state. It's absolutely gorgeous. Looking out our living room window, you can see the mountains. Looking out the side door, I can see our 9 horses. I don't do much looking through the glass these days, though. Whereas life in Michigan was a constant state of stasis, here I am living. Doing. Feeling. Loving. All that it entails. I have two fillies I'm working on halter breaking. Four basically unhandleable older horses and one very shy gelding I'm working on. Two colts that need halter breaking and socializing. A four month old puppy passed out across my feet to train. An amazing woman to forge a life with.

Gods, I'm happy. I really am. Not saying life is all sunshine and puppies, of course it isn't. But even the bad isn't so bad now. I'm in love, I have a home, I have a family. I have all I need in the world. The bad times fade quickly when I think about that.

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

Say Yes - Andrea Gibson

Say Yes by Andrea Gibson

when two violins are placed in a room
if a chord on one violin is struck
the other violin will sound the note
if this is your definition of hope
this is for you
the ones who know how powerful we are
who know we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings
for the ones who sing life into broken wings
open their chests and offer their breath
as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving
spare those intent on proving god is dead
for you when your fingers are red
from clutching your heart
so it will beat faster
for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else
for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies
and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky
this is for you
this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom
who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world
has slapped them in the face with its lack of light
for the mothers who feed their children first
and thirst for nothing when they’re full

this is for women
and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon
but there are men who cry when women bleed
men who bleed from women’s wounds
and this is for that moon
on the nights she seems hung by a noose
for the people who cut her loose
and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn
about to learn they have scissors in their hands

this is for the man who showed me
the hardest thing about having nothing
is having nothing to give
who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away
so this is for the day we’ll quit or jobs and work for something real
we’ll feel for sunshine in the shadows
look for sunrays in the shade
this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built
and for the ones who didn’t know the filth until tonight
but right now are beginning songs that sound something like
people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home

this is for all the shit we own
and for the day we’ll learn how much we have
when we learn to give that shit away
this is for doubt becoming faith
for falling from grace and climbing back up
for trading our silver platters for something that matters
like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible

this is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
cause tonight saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that whatever song we’ve been singing we sing even more
the world needs us right now more than it ever has before
pull all your strings
play every chord
if you’re writing letters to the prisoners
start tearing down the bars
if you’re handing our flashlights in the dark
start handing our stars
never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart
play loud
play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken
and you’re their last chance for sun
play like there’s no time for hoping brighter days will come
play like the apocalypse is only 4…3…2
but you have a drum in your chest that could save us
you have a song like a breath that could raise us
like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue
play like you know we won’t survive if you don’t
but we will if you do
play like saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that we give every single breath
this is for saying–yes

this is for saying–yes

* * *

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

why

Is it that people will tell you that they're there for you, but the second that your reaction is not the one they anticipated, they revoke their former offer. Or that they tell you you can talk to them about anything, but when you finally open up to them, they run like hell because "anything" doesn't cover the dark ugliness that are the things you actually need to talk about? People are willing to help until things move past a simple case of the blues. I'm done with reaching out. I'm done with falling on my face when people decide I'm too much. It's easier to just keep the shit inside and pretend.

If you can't handle me at my worst...

you must be everybody that's ever been in my life. I'm there for my friends whenever they need me, however they need me, no questions. When things get thick with me, they all run. It's a good thing I already know nobody really gives a fuck when it comes down to it, because otherwise this might hurt.

You.

You hurt me. Every fucking day. All I want is a relationship with you, and all you want is to avoid me unless there's something in it for you. You're such a manipulative child, it disgusts me. In a house where everyone is hell bent on bringing me to my knees, it would be so nice to have you at my back. Instead you talk about me behind my back. You use me. You treat me like shit. You fly off the handle if I so much as disagree with you. I want to hate you. I want to hate everyone who makes me feel less than I am, but I cannot bring myself to hate my own blood, regardless of how much pain they've caused me. I guess I'll give up and commit myself back to a life of solitude until ti's time for me to leave. Perhaps we can fit a lifetime's worth of relationship into those 18 hours it will take for you to drop me off.

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

Brewing.

There is an insane amount of anger and frustration brewing inside me. I feel entirely weak and powerless in my life, and as someone who has had the power taken away from them more than once over the course of their life, it does not have a good reaction in me. It makes me bitter, it makes me reach for situations which I CAN control, and it makes me an absolutely horrible person to be around.

I had someone (in my family) who I could go to. Someone who had my back. The only one who I felt came close to understood me, and whom I felt supported me. Saw the way things were here. I spoke to her xmas night, and that illusion was shattered. I knew it was only a matter of time until her ear was turned and I'd lose her, but I had hoped it wouldn't happen until I was closer to leaving. Oh, well. I don't need anyone to believe me, I suppose. It doesn't matter that everyone here thinks I'm a liar and a thief and an all around horrible person. None of it matters in the grand scheme of things, I guess. I know I'm not those things. That's what matters, right?

She spoke to me of getting out of this house, of moving away and letting the relationships here heal. She didn't give me a chance to interject, or maybe I just knew it was pointless to do so, but that is something that I doubt will ever happen. There is too much damage done here. There are no words or actions that will convince me that the woman has anything other than animosity and hatred for me at this point. I regret this, I wish it could be different, but my heart can only take so many cuts before the scar tissue heals over and makes it closed off. She loved me in the past, I know this, but she hasn't for a while now. No one can treat someone they honestly and truly love the way that woman treats me.

thoughts...

There's a gun across the hallway. Two, really, but the pistol would be much easier to use. It'd be so fucking easy to grab it, check the chamber, put it to my head - to the temple, too much leeway if you go under the chin or in the mouth - and pull the trigger. It's a 40 caliber, the bullets are damn near the size of my thumb. There's no coming back from that. Big, dime size hole on one side, gaping maw of bone fragment, blood, gray matter and tissue on the other. Or, rather, splattered on the wall on the other side. And for me? Oblivion. Respite from the constant depression, the constant being made to feel less than I am. (or am I, really? I don't know anymore)No more struggling for approval that will never come, no more wishing to feel a part of the family and being disappointed a bit more each time it's proven to me that I'm not. No more fighting. No more confrontation and animosity. Just oblivion.

internalize

internalize
compartmentalize
try silence on for size
ignore their words
and what they do
take it all inside of you
tuck it away
none of it matters, anyway
don't say a word
not one complaint
no one wants to hear your taint
just pull it all within
breathe it out again
you'll be stronger, in the end
don't dare cry
or show your pain
lock it away inside your brain

I'm breaking apart on the inside. My face isn't my own, it's being changed from the fire thats consuming me. I look bone weary. I AM bone weary. The bad outweighs the good right now, and I have no method of expelling the toxicity of the bad as it builds up inside me. My self confidence diminishes more and more every day. My will to keep on diminishes more and more every day. It feels like every time I reach out, I'm beaten back. Every time I start to climb free, someone steps on my fingers. I'm precious close to giving up, and all I want is someone to save me.

Musings.

I think that people who put expectations on sex are kind of ridiculous. sex is like art. everyone performs differently, and the end product is their own. some people will look at it, enjoy it topically and move on. others will stop and really FEEL it. Still others will hate it, and some will have their minds absolutely blown.

Just something I said in conversation today and thought I'd share.

I said I wasn't going to do this here...

...but where else do I have to go, really? Not my friends, I can't seem to bring myself to let go and actually lay it out to any of them. Not to mention that none of them would really understand, even if I did lay it out. I'm un-medicated, I'm on a bi-polar down-slide, I have seasonal depression, excessive anxiety and there are about five other smaller stressors at work all at once. This isn't a matter of talking to a friend, having them say "well, look at the bright side", say something to cheer me up and it's all better. I need to talk to someone who will listen without judging and understand that sometimes you need to allow your depression to run its course. And since that's not gonna happen, here goes.

I am excessively unhappy here. I have been for quite a while, but it just gets worse as time goes on. Most days my grandmother is cold and aloof, some days she's mean and insulting and others she's outright vicious to me. My brother is demanding, thankless, treats me as if I'm a maid/servant and enjoys berating me when things don't go his way. My grandfather basically ignores me, unless it's to snort incredulously at something I say and roll his eyes. My father and sisters are distant people who I relate to as I relate to casual acquaintances. My mother has her own life with no time (or patience) for my shit, and the same goes for most of that side of the family, too. My aunt B has her own troubles and is quite sick of hearing me whine, I'm sure. My best friend has her family and her own problems, and I would not seek to burden her with my shit, even if I thought she would understand what I'm going through. Basically, if you're not living it, you just won't get it.

In October I had actually decided that I couldn't take anymore, and had planned on ending things. I had plans to go see AFP with Nikki, and my intent was to do it after that. Seeing the concert was the one thing I really had to look forward to, and once I'd had that experience, I was ok with it being done. A couple things happened in the meantime, though. I met someone who started the stirrings of feelings inside my long dormant chest, and then I went on vacation. I spent time away from here, and I realized that I CAN actually still feel things other than sadness and pain. I was actually happy, and enjoying myself when I was away. I was with people who didn't treat me like shit, who actually spoke to me, had conversations. Included me. Made me feel at home. Then I came back home. More of the same. Then the holidays. So now...I'm back at square one. I'm perfectly ok with the idea of not being here. Sure, the future might hold change, but who's to say if that's a definite thing or just a possibility? I can't spend an indefinite amount of time feeling this way again. My shoulders are tired from hefting the original load, I don't think that they can handle more shit being shoveled on them every day until gods know when. It's kind of harder now, too, having tasted happiness and then coming back to this.

And so, I sit back at square one. I have a lot of things to decide, a lot of thoughts and emotions to process. And frankly, I'm tired. A large part of me is telling me to withdraw from people entirely and avoid bothering them with my shit. So, if you don't hear from me...the few of you who will read this...you know why. I'm doing it to save you from dealing with my shit.

meep.

Everything is so large and overwhelming and I feel so very tiny. All these letters addressed to me full of legal jargon, and health plans that seem to cover absolutely nothing...I'm a smart person, but it's all so fucking confusing. Perhaps if I hadn't ruined most of my brain with chemicals when I was younger this would be easier now. Perhaps if I didn't have a slew of disorders, I'd be able to look at it from an angle that doesn't leave me hyperventilating. Perhaps I should just admit defeat and ask for help in understanding what's going on with the situation.

another snippet.

To sing with another person is a very personal thing. Almost sexual, really, in it's intimacy. You're allowing your voice to join with another, to wrap around the other person's. To work in tandem with theirs, combining together to create something far more beautiful than one single voice. It can be physically shocking, to be singing and reach that moment of harmony where your voice and the other person's combine in that perfect note, that perfect moment.

snippet

I close my eyes, tilt my head back and feel the impurities of the day slide off my skin like I've just emerged from water. Indeed, as if I've just been baptized. That is what the music does for me, really. It baptizes me, lays to waste all the sins of the past and gives me a clean slate. It reaches into the very deepest recess of my soul and gently washes it clean.