Every day is a struggle 
Between what I want to say and what I want to keep to myself 
And the words that manage to leave my lips 
Don't hurt me, but they hurt everyone else

So I find myself in need of a part 
I'm not sure why, but I think that it's because 
Of this desire to be what others want me to be 
Which is nothing close to me

But I'll see better when the smoke clears 
The smoke clears inside my head 
And I can listen when the screaming doesn't repeat everything I've said 
And all that remains me and who I am at the end of the day 
And this happens every day ... yeah...

Every day is a battle 
Between what I want to know and what I don't want to figure out 
And everything in between in these thoughts of mine that you know I can't live with out

So I find myself in need of a part 
I'm not sure why, but I think that it's because 
Of this desire to be what others want me to be 
Which is nothing close to me

But I'll see better when the smoke clears 
The smoke clears inside my head 
And I can listen when the screaming doesn't repeat everything I've said 
All that remains me and who I am at the end of the day 
And this happens every day ... yeah... oooh...

But I'll see better when the smoke clears 
The smoke clears inside my head 
And I can listen when the screaming doesn't repeat everything I've said 
All that remains me and who I am at the end of the day 
And this happens every day ... this happens every day 
This happens every day... yeah... 

Lonely

Well, tonight isn't the best night -- by far. I'm so sick of the fact that Joe gets to keep everything and I'm the one who loses. It just isn't fair. I am really not sure I like it here at all. This would be so much easier to just blame on him. He was supposed to be somebody. He was supposed to be my person -- the person I could turn to when life had me in a panic. But he'll never be that, and he never would be. I guess you've gotta learn by getting really hurt, all the time, before you can feel like a failure enough to never leave your house enough.
Man, if I could warn people ahead of time what happens when you trust someone. I'd just destroy their hopes and dreams of futures because I'm that calloused and hurt right now. I don't feel attractive, I don't feel wanted by anyone. I feel like Joe was my one shot in life and I lost it. I suck at meeting guys, and I really am not good at figuring out how to meet guys anyway. So, I'm completely screwed. I don't have a support system here. I'm all by myself -- the exact way I wasn't supposed to be. So what's left? Not much that I can see right now. I'm so sick of this shit. I hate being stuck here. I'm sure this would be lovely if I didn't feel as though there is no escape for me right now. And, that is how I feel. I feel like I cannot get away from what I'm having to deal with here.

Maybe I should have pulled up roots here and moved home. Maybe I should have run from this, here, and him and tried to go on about my own life without falling apart. Caring about him more than anything else -- more than he cared about me -- now that is a dangerous life to live. But that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt all the time. And it doesn't mean that I don't -- for some screwed up reason -- feel jealous that he'd be with someone else. How is that possible? I hate myself to still caring about someone who has hurt me so many times. But what if he is the only one who seems to have ever really cared about me? What if this was my shot and I blew it somehow? What if this was my fault -- somehow?
This is how I wish I really felt, but at quite certain I never will be that free. What happens if I'm stuck feeling like this -- missing him -- for the wrong reasons for my whole life? What if I always feel as though he's the one who was supposed to be something in my life? I don't get it.

I wish I felt this way about having him out of my life. I wish I could find that relieved feeling in here somewhere. I don't have to deal with his smoking and his other issues -- and especially I don't have to deal with his dysfunctional family any longer. I don't have to deal with his sex issues -- the inability to be there with me and figure out his shit. I don't have to deal with feeling inadequate because of him.
I don't have to take him treating me like shit -- but isn't that what I do when I am over there and he pretends that I do not exist? Isn't that me just dealing with his shit some more? I hate that I was there today, sitting in the dark and Lisa and Geoff went upstairs and it was just me and Joe and for a moment I wished that he would come onto my couch and kiss me and tell me that all of this was just a huge mistake -- a bad dream that I'd wake up from and feel normal again. I wish it was that easy to fix. Even if he did come back some day -- I'll never be able to trust him again, and the stress of having him in my life in any way isn't really worth it to me anymore. I just don't want to feel any of these ways anymore. I'm much happier when I feel detached and don't really feel anything.

Has heartbreak lost it's meaning for me? I'm not sure it means anything near what it meant a long time ago. I don't like that I've spent my last seven years in turmoil about a boy who I really knew I cared about the second I heard his voice. I don't like that I've been wrapped up and shaken down. I hate that it is just the worst thing for me right now to be living somewhere where my life is tied to his in some way. It is either be alone, or deal with him in my life. I'm game for playing the mature role, but he really fails at it.

that's it for now,
M

Permission to be Depressed

"Depression was, indeed, the hand of a friend trying to press me down to the ground on which it was safe to stand--the ground of my own truth, my own nature with its complex mix of limits and gifts, liabilities and assets, darkness and light."
- Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak

I don't think I've ever been "clinically" depressed. Well, maybe I have, but it certainly didn't feel clinical. It felt morbid, cosmic, and unavoidably essential. When I was thirteen, my parents split for the umpteenth and final time and a few months later, my dad brought it to my attention that I'd been wearing the same hockey jersey for weeks and that I needed to start doing the dishes again. I was definitely depressed.

And there was the dark night after Magic Man flew back to London and the apartment felt like a keyless heartbreak hotel with barred windows. But my last extended dark night was about ten years ago. It was a new depth of crushing aloneness. Another break up, this time with Hot-but-Needy Actor Man in LA (I was equally needy, duh,) which triggered an exorcism of self doubt and psychic bile that, being thirty-something and ambitious, I just needed to get out of my system. {Note: it's often not the actual loss that causes the depression - it's all the crap that's tied up in it that you needed to deal with anyway.}

In that spell of depression I wore the same pair of butt-ripped Levi's for weeks. I'd lie in my backyard at two in the morning in nowhere New Mexico, smoking Marlboro's, looking up at the stars, wondering about the fatality of scorpion bites, and praying for aliens to abduct me. {Not joking in any way.} I cried every single day, sometimes twice a day, for weeks. I felt profoundly unheard...empty. As I'd fall asleep I felt as though chunks of my being were decomposing into the bed. It was a brutal ordeal of the psyche, but I knew I was being reborn. I did have faith that whatever new face was emerging, she would eventually smile back at me.

I learned a thousand subtle and mighty things about Life from those existential passages, but what I learned about depression itself is that, the more you resist it, the longer it lasts. When depressed, I find it's best to just be...depressed.Happiness returns more quickly when you give yourself permission to be blue...or any shade of black you need to be.

I understand that for some people, depression can be so severe as to be life threatening. It can grip a soul for decades. The kind of depression I'm addressing here falls somewhere within the category of disparaging life passages to profound melancholy...which is to say, likely manageable without drugs and positively surmountable. But I will go on record to say that, while I think meds for depression can be a viable option to break a cycle and regain one's footing, I think we're a culture overly prone to numbing out. And in doing so, we not only deny our own power, we carry our demons with us far longer than we have to.

HOW TO BE DEPRESSED SO THAT HAPPINESS HAS A BETTER CHANCE OF RETURNING -- SOONER RATHER THAN LATER

1. Give yourself full permission to be pathetic for a short period of time. In fact, relish the pathetic-ness. Enthusiastically wallow in self pity. If people let themselves have downer days more often, there might be fewer heart attacks and road rage. Being a total loser for a morning or a weekend isn't the slippery slope to despair. It's a direct route to what your emotions are trying to tell you...feel, heal, know thyself. And move on, more empowered than before.

2. Watch or read something depressing. Rent a some heart wrenching documentaries like, God Grew Tired of Us or War Dance and ball your eyes out. Chances are that your life will be looking pretty damn good in comparison.

3. Be incredibly, sublimely gentle with yourself, like you might be with a child or dear friend whom you deeply adore.

4. If someone who loves you asks how you are, admit to being blue. When a girl friend calls, let her know that it's a dog day afternoon and that you're happily in despair.

5. When the novelty of being depressed is starting to wear off, shake your arms above your head like you're being saved by the Almighty Holy Spirit itself, turn on some loud Opera music, and shout, "I'm depressed! I'm sooo depressed!"Gauranteed: you will start laughing smirky giggles to deep belly laughs and you will decide to listen to the rhythm of your blues and keep on walking...more empowered than before.

6. Break your happiness fast with a treat. Write a kind note to yourself about how brave you are for being still in the dark, for standing down a monster or two. Dress up even if you work from home. Bring a plant to work and water it. Freshen up. And give yourself full permission to just be ... deeply happy.

http://whitehottruth.com/white-hot/how-to-be-depressed/

Another Piggie

And, after some research I realized that Pigs are much happier with a friend. So I went back to Petsmart and picked up the other one I was choosing between so that they could be a pair! I'm pretty sure they'll love the whole thing! Also, I think I'll be naming them Calvin (grey) and Hobbs (orange).
They hang out together, snuggling and Calvin talks, a lot!

anyway, these are my new babies!

Introducing...Oh wait, he isn't named yet...

Well. I got pretty tired of feeling alone at home, and since it didn't work out having my dog, Spike, here, I went to PetSmart today and fell in love with a Gunea Pig. (Who as I wrote this just sneezed at me from his perch on my chest). He's adorable, and quite an interesting look for a piggle. He's so cute and makes little talking noises. He's currently sitting on my chest hanging out. I'm working on my computer and he's chilling with me. He's calm, and likes to cuddle apparently. He's making little cherping noises from time to time as he gets settled in.

This is my new pig, being held by the sales associate at the store. She'd done a lot of work with the new little guys and they were all pretty damn friendly... and cute and cuddly. He's very, very adorable and I can't wait until he's more comfortable and ready to be much more chill and not afraid. He'll be nice and well adapted at some point... so hopefully he likes it here. He has a nice cage and set up.
He's super happy about life and he's doing little cute piggly things. He still needs a name though! I wonder... what could I name him. I like Henry, but, at the same time, I don't want to call him that cause he doesn't then get a good nickname out of it... But, for some reason I thought "The Time Travelers Wife" and I like the name Henry. But, I think he needs a different name.

Regardless... he is to be my fluffy and my company! I can't wait. Maybe someday he'll live with Gus Gus, the most adorable bunny ever (Angela's new chubby bunny face). Gunea Pigs and Rabbits apparently do VERY well together... See Angela, I'm planning ahead!

~M

I guess there are just some days when different pictures appeal to me. So, to write about today. Work was... so so. We had some interesting corporate people in the store today. It is kinda interesting that we have very ... excentric people ... in the company.
It was just a weird and stressful day. I didn't enjoy it so much and it felt like it dragged on and on and on. I guess that's just how it goes sometimes.
These pictures feel like I feel right now. They're lonely and still and beautiful. I hate it, the way these call to me -- they're where I want to lose myself. The idea of where I'd be able to just be myself and be at peace -- which I don't feel right now. But I can feel myself, when I close my eyes, sitting on that bench, stairing out to the world watching the petals fall from the trees. I can feel them brush across my skin and call for me to get lost in them, with them, as they find their place on the ground. I can see them swirl around my feet as I walk through the trees. It is almost silent there, the wind whispering through the branches, and the petals, almost inaudible, landing on one another without protest.





And that bridge, I could stand on it for hours and watch the water sway below it -- lapping gently on the pillars of the bridge. The trees would be waving, only slightly. Enough to add a small chill to the slightly heavy weather. Rain is in the air, and I would so enjoy standing on the bridge and getting drenched all the way through. My tears would mix with the falling rain drops -- as cliche as it is, hiding seems like the best measure of protecting myself. Getting away, hiding -- though I hate to hide. I hurt, a lot, and curling up with a bottle of pills and a bottle of vodka seems like such a great idea sometimes... But my rational part of my brain -- which I really do hate sometimes -- calls that giving up, giving in, losing. And I hate to lose.
Joe is like a constant memory that I got played into his game. He used me, played me, and threw me away. I don't know how to stop feeling this way. I gave everything I had, and wasn't good enough. (Yeah, you guys can say things over and over about how awful he is and how that isn't true... but it still just sucks and I stil feel that way).
Ugh. I hate it. Having jealousy issues when he's trying to get with another girl is not fun for me. I shouldn't feel this way, but, I do and I hate it. I feel behind and exhausted and just fed up. I wish there was a reason to just get away and go on my own. I can't do that, but hiding out from everyone here feels like such a good idea. I just hate him right now and I don't want him in my life anymore. Perhaps there will be no more going over to visit. I'll hang with lisa and geoff if they ever bother to include me in things they actually do. But I just don't know if I can deal with this anymore. Him ignoring me completely and even when I say goodnight, pretending like he didn't hear me.
I'm super down tonight. I hurt, a lot. I don't want to deal with this shit anymore. I just want to hide away and try to figure out my own life. I refuse to break. I lost the game I won't lose more. Lisa says I don't hide it. She says everyone can tell. Well, I won't be around everyone then. I just don't care with that shit. But I won't be around Joe anymore, cause I won't show that weakness to him. I can't go where I won't be able to come out of it. I have to hide it. Everyone expects me to just be okay with the fact that i feel used. I feel used, and dirty, and very lost. And I won't show it. I'll write it down, and I'll do my best to be calm and act like I can still breathe, when I know that every single one is a hard won fight.

~M

I wish I could draw

IT's bothering me, of late, that I possess absolutely no skill when it comes to drawing. I really really hate that I can see things in my head, but I cannot draw them to save my life. Because, there are days when I would really love to be able to draw what I see, especially when it is a picture which is haunting me. I really wish I could draw. There is just a picture haunting me when I think about Joe.

I walked upstairs at one point, a bit over a month ago, and I looked into Joe's room to see him leaning against his bed, like a drug addict. He was slouched there, holding the lighter in one hand and the bong in another. He gave me a look like he had been caught in the act, but was too high to really register the reaction. He was slouched there, in his hoodie and his sweat pants -- his socks with the holes in the them. He was lounging there, like he was fading out of the scene.
That view of him haunts me. I hate that I think of him that way, but, it isn't so bad to remember him that way because it is so distasteful to me. I don't want to deal with that shit, but the picture of it I cannot get out of my head. It is so sad, and depressing. I just don't like the idea of him like that. It was like watching him falling apart at the seams. I can't stand that I thought that about him, the guy I was supposedly in love with -- the guy I'd just changed my life around for. Maybe that is the point where I realized that he was not who I thought he was -- and maybe I wasn't as in love with him as I'd thought myself for the last years.
I don't know why this picture of him really bothers me so much. I do wish I'd had a picture of it. I cannot draw it, though I can see it quite clearly. Stupid drug addict. That is what I thought when I saw him like that.


I don't know who I am anymore, and I don't know who I am becoming. I'm afraid that he's managed to damage me in some way I'll never be able to recover from. I cannot figure out who I think I am, and I don't know who anyone else things I am. Maybe you can all tell me. Who am I? Who am I becoming?
I'm afraid of who I am becoming, and I'm afraid of finding out that I cannot have a normal relationship because of the six years he has so happily played me through these games. What is there left for me when I'm the issue here. I don't care how many people say it wasn't me, it had to have been something about me, because he has managed to have relationships with other girls. Why not me?
I don't regret what I've done with him, and I look forward to heading into another relationship with my eyes wide open, but what if I cannot have a normal relationship anymore because of him? What if he has 'ruined' me so to speak. I feel neurotic when it comes to guys and relationships. I feel like I have to protect myself from the 'world' so to speak. That shouldn't be the way it is. I also feel a hell of a lot more submissive than I know I am because I've spent six years whiling around waiting on him and his schedule. I don't want it, and I can't take it, but I don't know how to be the me I was before I met him. Can I go back and choose to tell him to get lost when my heart was in my throat. Can I go back and meet these amazing girls in my life and have them talk some sense into me before I did something which would end up haunting me for years. I feel broken, and I cannot just except that I cannot be the person that I used to be.

I saw Joe today. I was hanging out with Lisa, Geoff, and Jimmy. We were chilling and Joe showed up and came in without saying a word to anyone. He just acted pissed at the world. He put his keys down, where he always puts his keys down, and walked upstairs without a word to anyone. He couldn't care if I was living and breathing -- or if anyone else was, for that matter. So, what do I do now... I cannot be friends with him because he obviously has very little intention to stay friends with me, his words before bedammed.
So, what happens now? What do I do? I don't know if I can deal with him screwing around with other girls... How come I feel jealous of that? How is that possible? He's brought me to a place I don't even want to be, to a point where I hate myself, starve myself, and constantly critique myself because I don't know who I am anymore. And I don't know what was so wrong with me that he didn't want to be with me-- that he didn't feel excited to see me -- excited to be with me. I hate him for making me feel this way, but I miss him at the same time. I don't miss dealing with his rudeness and his shit towards other people and the drugs, but why do I miss him so much? It's just not fair. I don't want to miss him.

Anyway... me signing out,
M