The best part about Monday night is that it means Monday day is already behind you. I'm tucked into bed, laptop on lap, House Hunters on the television, cat kneading the blanket at my feet. It's about as cozy a scene as there ever was. It would be absolutely perfect if it weren't for that pesky feeling of impending doom.
Even though I can't hear them howling outside my door right at this moment, I know that the wolves will emerge sooner or later. Sure, tonight they may be wandering the streets of London looking for beef chow mein, but they'll alight on New York's Upper West Side sooner or later and I'm praying I'll have silver bullets handy.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
One wave at a time
One day at a time, one choice at a time, one step at a time, one breath at a time...it's really all I can do right now. I went to the doctor today and I'd gained 12 pounds since I was there last. It wasn't terribly surprising - I can always tell when I've gotten bigger. Everything is harder - walking, sitting, sleeping, breathing... I wanted to feel the number when I saw it on the scale, but even though I feel like I'm on an upward swing, I'm still almost completely numb.
I want to feel my life so I'm going to a new doctor who will hopefully be able to find me a drug that will help me to do that. I know that I can't do this on my own, but for whatever reason, for every aid that I put into place, I put up an even more hideous obstacle. Like I put a trampoline down to help me land safely, but I put it right next to a brick wall covered with razor blades.
I really don't know why I can't just take care of myself the same way I take care of other people - why I will always choose to inconvenience myself rather than someone else. Not really sure what it's about, but it's been that way just about my whole life. So maybe it's time to start being a little more "self-centered," in a good way. Maybe it's time to really figure this all out.
My therapist told me it's up to me to be the captain of my own ship and not be buffeted about by the waves. I suppose I should learn how to tie knots, or perhaps, how to UN-tie them. I've always been prone to sea sickness so this should be interesting...
I want to feel my life so I'm going to a new doctor who will hopefully be able to find me a drug that will help me to do that. I know that I can't do this on my own, but for whatever reason, for every aid that I put into place, I put up an even more hideous obstacle. Like I put a trampoline down to help me land safely, but I put it right next to a brick wall covered with razor blades.
I really don't know why I can't just take care of myself the same way I take care of other people - why I will always choose to inconvenience myself rather than someone else. Not really sure what it's about, but it's been that way just about my whole life. So maybe it's time to start being a little more "self-centered," in a good way. Maybe it's time to really figure this all out.
My therapist told me it's up to me to be the captain of my own ship and not be buffeted about by the waves. I suppose I should learn how to tie knots, or perhaps, how to UN-tie them. I've always been prone to sea sickness so this should be interesting...
Thursday, April 14, 2011
My family of origin
My therapist says I have a problem with justice. She also says that I can't seem to break from my family of origin, despite the fact that I live half a country away from them. I know that I'm seriously conflicted. No matter how much I miss my family and feel an obligation to them, the idea of living out my days in middle America makes me a little queasy.
Don't get me wrong - the HGTV junkie in me is completely aware of the fact that I could buy a big ol' farmhouse on several acres for $200,000 less than I'm spending on 300 square feet in New York City. And yet I can't seem to bring myself to do it. What is it about needing to live "in the middle of it all?" It was probably that damn Tom & Jerry cartoon "Mouse in Manhattan." Jerry forsakes life with Tom in the country and heads to the big city where he stows away on a train that takes him right into Grand Central. He then wanders around, seeing the sites, taking in the grandeur that is New York City. I was completely mesmerized by his experience and wasn't even swayed when it all went terribly, horribly wrong in the end and he high-tales it back to the boonies and that old devil he knows, Tom the cat.
But cartoon mice aside, there is something in me that just won't let me move back to the breadbasket and "settle down," even when it all goes terribly, horribly wrong, which it seems to do on a semi-regular basis. OK, maybe not TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY wrong - I've never been to jail (Good Lord -I just realized there's no wood anywhere near me) and I somehow keep hanging in there, be it by the grace of God or the goodwill of friends and family.
So - despite not living in the same city as my parents, I've never been able to make the very necessary, healthy break that will enable me to really grow up. I know that I need to lay down their pain - the pain that I've been carrying around all these years because I believed it was my duty, even though they never asked me to. It's time to lay it down and head down a different path because I want to go down it, not because I believe I'm obligated to take it.
So...is this me...laying down this pain...? I'll let you know if I notice any difference in my shoulders tomorrow.
Don't get me wrong - the HGTV junkie in me is completely aware of the fact that I could buy a big ol' farmhouse on several acres for $200,000 less than I'm spending on 300 square feet in New York City. And yet I can't seem to bring myself to do it. What is it about needing to live "in the middle of it all?" It was probably that damn Tom & Jerry cartoon "Mouse in Manhattan." Jerry forsakes life with Tom in the country and heads to the big city where he stows away on a train that takes him right into Grand Central. He then wanders around, seeing the sites, taking in the grandeur that is New York City. I was completely mesmerized by his experience and wasn't even swayed when it all went terribly, horribly wrong in the end and he high-tales it back to the boonies and that old devil he knows, Tom the cat.
But cartoon mice aside, there is something in me that just won't let me move back to the breadbasket and "settle down," even when it all goes terribly, horribly wrong, which it seems to do on a semi-regular basis. OK, maybe not TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY wrong - I've never been to jail (Good Lord -I just realized there's no wood anywhere near me) and I somehow keep hanging in there, be it by the grace of God or the goodwill of friends and family.
So - despite not living in the same city as my parents, I've never been able to make the very necessary, healthy break that will enable me to really grow up. I know that I need to lay down their pain - the pain that I've been carrying around all these years because I believed it was my duty, even though they never asked me to. It's time to lay it down and head down a different path because I want to go down it, not because I believe I'm obligated to take it.
So...is this me...laying down this pain...? I'll let you know if I notice any difference in my shoulders tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Aim Adjustment
I spent the better part of my day with a bunch of coworkers traveling to and from a wake. I mean, it sounds like a joke, right? "A group of coworkers went to a wake..."
So there I am, trapped in a van with nothing to do but listen in on the conversation of four women, all of whom are getting married in the near future. They discussed ad nauseum the number of wedding dresses they had tried on, the numerous meetings they'd had to take with various caterers, their favorite trends in cake design, what islands they were considering for their honeymoons and even their favorite baby names.
And all I could think is "Jesus, I've got NOTHING in common with any of these people." It wouldn't be a big deal except that THESE people, these coworkers and fellow passengers of this Econoline van, make up the sum total of just about everyone I know in New York City, which is where I now live. For better or for worse. And I wonder why I'm depressed.
Truth be told, I've been trying to keep some sort of perspective in the midst of being dealt a number of challenges from the universe. I'm in financially dire straits yet again. It is a state of being I'm far too familiar with, having been broke most of my 41 years. And at a certain point you kind of have to ask yourself what you're doing wrong. I mean, I work hard, don't I? I went back to school in my thirties and got my degree and set about getting what I thought would turn out to be my dream career.
When I got my "promotion" after four long years as one of the oldest assistants in the department, everyone was thrilled, telling me no one deserved it more. And now I'm alone and broke in NYC, but I get to be a publicist for a big movie studio in the greatest city in the world. But it could seriously be worse - I don't live in Japan. Gotta keep reminding myself of that.
But I also gotta ask myself, what am I doing here in this current situation and how do I get myself OUT of it? And moreover, why am I always in a situation I need to get myself out of? Why does everyone in the office seem to have a better quality of life that includes traveling and theater tickets and shoes and restaurants? Clearly I'm missing the mark. Not sure if it's bad eyesight, a faulty bow, crooked arrows or weak triceps, but I seriously need to readjust my aim.
So there I am, trapped in a van with nothing to do but listen in on the conversation of four women, all of whom are getting married in the near future. They discussed ad nauseum the number of wedding dresses they had tried on, the numerous meetings they'd had to take with various caterers, their favorite trends in cake design, what islands they were considering for their honeymoons and even their favorite baby names.
And all I could think is "Jesus, I've got NOTHING in common with any of these people." It wouldn't be a big deal except that THESE people, these coworkers and fellow passengers of this Econoline van, make up the sum total of just about everyone I know in New York City, which is where I now live. For better or for worse. And I wonder why I'm depressed.
Truth be told, I've been trying to keep some sort of perspective in the midst of being dealt a number of challenges from the universe. I'm in financially dire straits yet again. It is a state of being I'm far too familiar with, having been broke most of my 41 years. And at a certain point you kind of have to ask yourself what you're doing wrong. I mean, I work hard, don't I? I went back to school in my thirties and got my degree and set about getting what I thought would turn out to be my dream career.
When I got my "promotion" after four long years as one of the oldest assistants in the department, everyone was thrilled, telling me no one deserved it more. And now I'm alone and broke in NYC, but I get to be a publicist for a big movie studio in the greatest city in the world. But it could seriously be worse - I don't live in Japan. Gotta keep reminding myself of that.
But I also gotta ask myself, what am I doing here in this current situation and how do I get myself OUT of it? And moreover, why am I always in a situation I need to get myself out of? Why does everyone in the office seem to have a better quality of life that includes traveling and theater tickets and shoes and restaurants? Clearly I'm missing the mark. Not sure if it's bad eyesight, a faulty bow, crooked arrows or weak triceps, but I seriously need to readjust my aim.
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