So, here I am at work. Chilling at the youth shelter until 11 pm. I've been at work since 10 am. I'm doing an overnight this weekend and I'm the on-call clinician for the client Saturday and Sunday. And yeah, I did already work a full week. This job really takes it out of you, you know? We are so understaffed. I love the work I do, but it's very, very hard to maintain my self-care on days like this.

In other news, it's been the longest month of all time. I can't remember the last time I had a truly relaxing day. Everything happens at once. I'm exhausted and basically on autopilot at this point. The holidays, work, coming out to my parents, friends in crisis, family stress... etc... etc... I need a break! I had a 4-day weekend for Christmas, but it was nuts, and this was supposed to be a 3-day weekend, but that's not going to happen. At least I (in theory) have NYE off. That's not much of a break either, though.

Anyway... I've been trying to get out more and connect with people outside my immediate circle. Like, old friends and acquaintances from both Redding and Chico, and even, weirdly, a high school crush. I've even attempted to make plans with a few people I've never met before. Don't laugh-- that's a rarity these days. Except work has derailed my attempts to have a drink with one person twice now. In any case, I think it's crucial that I keep a foot in the real world outside of work and my inner circle, because otherwise I feel totally isolated and hopeless. And unattractive.

Ahhhhh.....

Inspiration

I just... want the transition period to be over. I want to be a therapist, supervisor, professor, partner, mentor, everything. Not in jobless, unlicensed limbo.

/complaints

All gonna work out in time, I know. Art straight-up told us today that he will give us 670 when he goes on sabbatical and/or retires. How great would that be? Very.

Summahtime

I've had a nice couple of days. Hanging out with friends, eating awesome food, drinking good beer, and riding bikes-- and landing an interview for a badass job that I have a good chance of getting. YES. Plus, in about an hour I'm heading to Sac to meet Addison, Jen's brand new little girl. Kinda freaky, that. I mean, we grew up together and we're so close in age... but I'm happy for her. They'll be great parents.

Hungover though. Last night I hung out with YJ and Armando for awhile and then-- and I'm not proud of this-- went to Beareoke. Nah, it was fun. I totally played sorority lesbian to get a free shot. Shut up-- I was participating in an elaborate satire of my own making, dammit! Sam invited me and a ton of people I know and like were there. I got hit on a lot, which was unusual, but Beareoke brings in a more diverse crowd. Speaking of being hit on, Kevin and Sam were flirting all over each other (I feel like I'm watching my siblings hook up or something. It's weird), and a wasted Jeff started telling me things like, "If we were in a relationship, and I impregnated you, I'd totally help you raise that baby" because "you have great genes, and mine aren't bad, I mean, I'm smart, even though I'm unmotivated". How is it that Jeff is such a sweetie that an evening of un-reciprocated come-ons aren't creepy? I gotta get me some of that magic.

God damn woman parts. Bullshit.

I'm all lightheaded and bloated and spacey, and my skin is super sensitive, and I have no appetite after eating everything in sight for the past 24 hours. Yes, it's That Time Again. It's gonna be a rough one. It might even warrant the label of 'epic.' Just like years and years ago, before I altered my body chemistry with a series of mind-numbing hormonal cures, when I used to be bedridden with the spins and pain so blinding I had to puke in public garbage cans. Awesome. Shoot me.

Everything else is going alright, though.

Jesus.

The little sister of one of my good friends drowned in Redding yesterday. We just got off the phone, and I can't even imagine what he and his family must be going through. I think about losing Tony and it makes me want to throw up. How do you deal with something like that? I just feel sick for them. Fucking sick.

Can't concentrate on my work

I talk things out much better than I write them. I write well, but I think quickly and abstractly, so I lose interest when trying to explain my inner life on paper. I also benefit from discussion. Often I write out some sort of huge blog post and then scrap it entirely for a succinct, essential version, which only came out of sorting through my long-winded thoughts. It's less interesting to send my thoughts into a void, but more honest. Though I can say with certainty that I am not always honest with myself, either.

Getting that old familiar feeling. Maybe I've overcaffeinated. This is cup four of black tea on an empty stomach, so probably. I want to be stimulated-- I need to be. And I'm not. 95% of the time I'm not. Therapy challenges me, some of my closer friends challenge me, and art challenges me. How do I learn to challenge myself instead of seeking out greater structures to do that for me? Or is that acceptable? I don't know. I think I'm used to chasing someone-- and when I say that I mean a particular but different someone in sequential points in time-- whose head I can't quite get into. That's my favorite challenge. I don't have that right now and it might be driving me insane.

God, how unhealthy is that?

Rant

It's important to me that I feel like a priority to my friends, that I feel like I get back what I put in. I'm not sure people collectively understood why it was a deal-breaker when my two "close friends" blew off my Halloween party. My reasoning: It was a culmination of times that they chose something else-- anything else-- over our friendship. And when I attempted to test the trust of our bonds by confronting them to make amends, I found that we had no foundation to stand on.

I don't have get-togethers very often. Maybe a few times a year. I'm not a natural hostess and I don't have the pull that others have, for whatever reason. The housewarming potluck was no different. It ended up being really fun and a lot of people came out to celebrate with me. I was grateful for that. But warm and fuzzy feelings aren't the reason I write this blog, so I'm going to focus on the other thing.

A few people let me know ahead of time that serious things were going on and that they couldn't make it, for health and family reasons, which is utterly, worryingly understandable. But a lot of people flat-out blew me off and I'm sick of being blown off. Take the MFT girls. I don't know why I keep trying to reach out. I always get burned. Take random other people of whom I still, somehow, have expectations of respect that no longer deliver. Take one of my very good friends, who is beginning to demonstrate a pattern of only making me a priority when she needs something.

This isn't about the potluck. It's about consistently feeling like I put in more than I get. It's about why, after so much evidence, I continue to have high expectations for these people. I need to let go. Not everyone can give me the friendships that I want, and that's fine. There is no need to continue to waste my energy and be disappointed.

I do have wonderful friends. I do have people I can count on. I do have people to whom I'm a priority. And they are where I'm going to focus my energy. Mark my words, god damn it...

I had my first real interview today. I think it went okay. Due to total lack of experience I wasn't very polished, but I think my raw enthusiasm and good instincts helped make up for it. (Hopefully.) I need to have more distance from it to evaluate how I did, since I tend to be self-critical right after the fact. Doing okay, though. We'll see... it would be a badass job, though.

I'm on a boy kick right now. It's strange and unexpected, but also familiar, and intuitively "right," given all the heteronormativity conditioning, I'm sure. I still see myself ending up with a boy. Somehow, even after all of my internal work and deconstruction and lady lust, I can't picture myself with a woman. It's frustrating. Baby steps, I know. I'm young, and only a few years ago, I thought I could never have feelings for a woman; only a few years before that, I thought I couldn't be sexually attracted to one. Baby steps.

Percy is driving me insane. He's been such a diva since we moved. He stays up all night whining and shoving his head in my face. I didn't sleep more than two hours last night. Sort of running on empty. But... hell. I need to get to work.

I moved into my new place last week. What a relief... on many levels. I have the place to myself until August, since Tony can't move in right away. Housewarming on Thursday. I've never been sole hostess before. Time to learn some social skills. It's interesting to think about... people are invested enough in me to come to my housewarming. I've built something here, something that others want to be a part of. It's a nice feeling.

Also have an interview on Tuesday. Things are starting to fall into place.

And yet... I am a ball of tension. When I woke up this morning, my stomach was in knots, and the last week or so I've been having trouble sleeping. Little things are getting to me more than they should. I just have to remind myself to take it one day at a time.

On a random note, I'm totally in love with Chuck Bartowski. Can I just jump into the TV screen and make it all real? Sigh... [Did I not mention my recent hankering for romance? Clearly it's going unfulfilled.]

How is it July already?

This week I...

applied for my first real job
found a place
got addicted to Chuck
got over a crush as soon as it became a real possibility
decided to get another kitty as soon as Percy is acclimated to the new place
had a stressful week at internship
walked around like a zombie for four days
spent a lot of time in the sun
opened up a little
bought local art (okay, in the form of a textile owl at the Ray Ray show)
showed various family members around Chico
screamed and fist-pumped my way through all of the Nadal matches it took for him to make the final


Experiencing a spot of melancholy, in the few moments I'm not running around like a madwoman. Moving into the new place will help. Just wanna relax.

Trigger-happy June

I'm having a hard time finding a place for myself and Tony. Two bedrooms are hard to come by and I don't know who we would live with. MJ expressed serious interest and then changed her mind, all in one day, which is a bummer because that would have been ideal. Frustrating. So it's back to the drawing board. I just want to find a place and get settled, and then get a good job, and be on with my life. I find inconsistency infuriating. If I didn't have internship right now, I'd be going crazy.

I feel like it's all slipping away, that stuff and everything else that I've worked for. So I'm trying to tell myself that I'll get everything sorted out. It will be fine. I want someone else to tell me this right now, and get me to believe it. Helpful or pathological? Eh. I want to be held. I want to have someone that will drop everything for me and talk me through things in times like these, when that familiar panic starts creeping in. At the same time, I know I can't give that back to anyone just yet.

There's a cute barista who I have an incredibly awkward running converstation with about my tattoos and love of owls. Today she told me that she held an owl shirt for me from a community yard sale and I should pick it up tomorrow during her shift. "I start at 6 tomorrow if you want to come in... or [worriedly] Thursday at 6?" When I walked back in the door to return our glasses, she was stocking the bar. She looked up and smiled at me, and dropped half a bag of lids on the floor. Small things like this-- or riding bikes through town, or making calls about internship on "my day off," or making a mental packing list for the family trip to the coast-- are keeping a smile on my face. There is quite a lot of meaning.

Ladies of Leisure

This is weird. I have free time. I mean, social time-- not much time for myself until yesterday. What have I been doing? Well... looking for a house, taking on more stuff at internship, emailing my resume, visiting Redding, making plans to visit people, supporting friends, hanging out, drinking hella tea and beer, watching multiple seasons of the X-Files, gaining weight, and staying up all night for no reason. On antibiotics for another infected ear piercing. Fuck my cartilage! The pills are kicking my ass. Feeling better today, though.

Woke up, went to a staff meeting, bought a rainbow bracelet, went to Empire, hung out with YJ and Anndria, saw Josh right before he took off to do some noon drinking, realized again how much I dodged a bullet there, watched Coffee Prince at YJ's, came home to blog and nap before viewing a house at 5:15. MJ and Stacey are hanging out in the kitchen. They hang out constantly, which worries me given the recent past. Also, apparently Stacey feels threatened by me and asked MJ if she and I are dating. Really? I refuse to get pulled into another triangle if I'm not even getting some action out of it.

Today I realized that, for the first time in years, I don't have a crush on anyone. I haven't had one since I stopped hanging out with Bo. This was an unconscious choice on my part, I think. It's good for me to be truly single right now. It also occurred to me that the way I've gotten over feelings/crushes is to find more crushes. I can't think of a time when I wasn't "hanging out" with or pursuing someone since I was, like, 14. Even the past eight months since Josh and I broke up: distracted myself with ladies, especially Jill; got over my disappointment with the queer dating scene and lingering feelings for Josh with Bo. I didn't look for someone to "get over" the Bo debacle with. Maybe I finally trusted that I would be strong enough. I don't know. But... here I am, perfectly okay, and for awhile now. The existential questions of prolonged single-ness are the issue that I've been avoiding for so long. It's strange, because I never thought of myself as someone who was uncomfortable being single. I think I'm more or less dealing with it, though. This feels easier than falling into an entanglement or trying to date people... almost a relief. Taking care of people is all I know how to do, but I'm exhausted.

Post-grad

Graduation weekend was wonderful. Best time I've had in awhile. Now that the celebration is over, I kind of just want to fall into bed and nap until next week. I won't do that, though. Too much life to live before my work life starts...

What a crazy few days. Packed with school and internship stuff, of course. I barely slept this week, I was so busy. I just want it to be done. Starting to get excited for graduation. It hit me yesterday that it's ending. It was my last Safe Place shift and Dawn took the graduates out to lunch-- and for some reason, this made it all sink in, even more than the paperwork, even more than the commencement stuff, even more than the planning.

The fashion show was fun. A total whirlwind-- I'd do it again. The wine made it less intimidating. Though of all the people to be a fellow model, the dude I wrote about last week. Really? I had to change in front of him. That's Chico for you. After that I met up with Kevin and Meghan for drinks. Today there was Jamie's BBQ and Veronica's potluck, and then I watched Humpday with Michele and Andy. Now back to work.

I had a stressful conversation with my mom today. It has been weighing on me all day. I'm doing better about not "taking it on," but it's hard to let go. It's also hard not to feel lonely after watching something like Humpday with a 'couple.' Especially after the MFT potluck, which was fun, but reminded me how disconnected I've become from those people and how little we have in common now that school is ending.

I'm bottling things up. Gotta work on that.

Yeah.

Things lately:

Had a blast with Sam and Kyle last weekend. Schubert's, whiskey, art shows, performances, puking out of the window of the Ecocab... wait, what? Actually, that wasn't me. I just blacked out for two hours. It was fun, though. Definitely out of the ordinary for me these days, but a great break from all the stress.

Making progress on my AR. Picking up clients. Making plans.

Lots of things happening. It was a harrowing weekend. I should probably open up about it to someone that's not in the middle of it, someone who is geographically removed. I'm handling myself. Every second is worth it.

Tonight I studied at Empire, ate a burrito, jerked off, watched Treme and AI and Cake Boss at YJ's in between sipping a Summerfest and smoking with Jeff and Armando. It was pleasant. I feel relaxed now.

Tomorrow: session, AR exam, homework, shift, class meeting, run-through for the trunk show I'm modeling in, Iron Man 2, more AR work. No breaks. I always take on too much.

Feeling confused and bittersweet. What does it all mean? What do I want out of this? For now I'm content to see it through and keep in the moment. Progress.

Oh yeah, I realized again that I'm addicted to encouraging people's interest in me.

Today

It's been fucking amazing. My new bike arrived at Pullins, and then I bought the most adorable wicker basket in the history of time for it, and then I got the email telling me I've been officially approved to walk at graduation. FUCK. YES. I really have nothing else to say. I'm going to ride off into the sunset on my new baby, which I'm going to name something whimsical and feminine like Petunia (I need to give it some thought), pick up a burrito... and then do homework all night. But I don't even care, because now finishing the AR on time means something to me. Now to look for cute graduation shoes and start planning for all my visiting family...

Entitlement

I'm at the Naked Lounge working on my AR. I hate the library, so I usually come here at night if I need to study. It's impossible for me to get work done at home.

Anyway, I'm just chilling at my table, typing away, when I glance up and lock eyes with someone who makes me so fucking uncomfortable that I am now having trouble concentrating. This dude and I were in the Museum of the Mind group together 2.5 years ago for class. He had a habit of getting in others' personal space. For example, stroking my back and making faux-concerned comments about my health, and ignoring nonverbal cues of discomfort. He did this to all of the girls in our group. I never said anything because he was a graphic designer and offered to do all of the design work on our project poster. Besides, I didn't want to cause conflict. Since then, I've seen him around quite a bit. We frequent the same places. I started actively trying to avoid him or cut the conversations short; after awhile, it worked. Then, about a month ago, I ran into him at Dance Night. When I say "ran into," I mean he came up to me in the crowd, gave me a hug that went on for way too long, clasped my shoulder, and said, inches away from my face, "Kari, you're a beautiful person. I enjoy seeing you around. I think you try to aviod me, but I always love seeing you around."

I was unnerved. I had to physically break away from his grasp. But I didn't say anything. I made a polite comment about how I wasn't trying to avoid him, smiled, and thanked him. Then I pounded a beer to calm my nerves.

It was fucked up. The reason I can't stand this guy is that he knows how uncomfortable he makes me; he knows that he invades women's space; he knows that we don't like it. He doesn't care. Hee knows that we won't stand up to him, so he keeps doing it and keeps getting off on the power he has to do it.

The situation seems minor, but it's indicative of a larger problem. Why do so many men feel so fucking entitled to my time, my space, and my body? And why do I feel guilty for denying them?

I know the answers to those questions, of course. It's just fucking disturbing to realize how constant and inescapable these systems of oppression are, and how much they still influence my behavior.

Yay self-care!

Today I have already...

1. Had time to do homework at Safe Place
2. Met with Margaret about my AR and had my outline approved
3. Ordered my ah-mazing new commuter bike from Pullins
4. Eaten delicious chili from Upper Crust

and soon/later will...

5. Power-walk while listening to Pandora on the Droid
6. Power-nap
7. Make a salad for dinner
8. Meet Meghan for tea
9. See Greenberg with Karin
10. Finish writing the first chapter of my AR

I am happy today because:

1. The weather is amazing
2. I know a lot of good people
3. I'm taking care of my body
4. My motivation has returned
5. I'm getting my alone time
6. It's fun being cute and single
7. My allergies have subsided
8. I'm wearing a jaunty new dress

I kinda feel like singing.

I need to get working on my AR, but it's so beautiful outside. This weather makes me feel so alive. Yesterday, with all the bike riding and drinking Summerfest on porches and wearing my Saltwater sandals, made it sink in that summer is coming. Three fucking weeks away! I can't wait. There's a lot to get through before then, though.

I've been rather lonely lately. I feel like I'm constantly surrounded by people without connecting to anyone. This morning I hung out with a cute new friend at Empire. Josh and his little sister (who I still have a crush on; I know it's terrible but I can't help it) came by while I was there, as did Bo. I stopped and talked to Bo for a few minutes before I left. During the conversation it hit me that I barely communicate anything personal or meaningful to the people I see the most. Why is this? Well, I think it has a lot to do with how quickly information travels in my circle. Not just travels, but warps. It's like a giant game of telephone sometimes. It's not that I don't want my thoughts to be out in the open, or that I'm talking shit; there are just some things I'd rather process in confidence.

I guess saying that I don't connect to anyone is misleading. I do in many ways-- through banter, or venting about school, or or watching movies, or having a few beers. It's a specific outlet that I'm missing, one that involves a more direct and honest discourse, and challenges me to open up, explore, and give and receive in equal measure. It's not that these outlets don't exist... I just want more of them. And I wish so many of them didn't live so far away.

This is probably the root of my recent longing for a partner. God knows I don't really want one right now, but more emotional needs being met? Absolutely.

I wish my life weren't so compartmentalized. I would like to lean on my family more for support, but before I can do that fully, I will need to come out and continue to differentiate, which is going to be a long process, I think.

Hm.

This week...

1. DROID.

2. Turned in my paperwork for requesting to walk. Please, please.

3. Looking at getting a new commuter bike.

4. Told my parents about August graduation and dealt with a few days of weirdness before it seemed to settle in and be accepted.

5. Told Michele I'm moving out. So did MJ. MJ gave 30 days' notice, though. I think Michele is freaking out a little bit. I feel guilty (of course I do, I always do), but I've given two months' notice, and I need to get my own place. It's time.

6. On Wednesday night some friends were complaining about how much they hate seeing their exes, and it made me realize that I hadn't seen Josh in awhile and how I genuinely do want to maintain a friendship with him. So I asked him to get coffee this week and he agreed.

7. Had a startling realization the other day. It was like an awakening of feelings I didn't know I had. It's strange, but I'm content to sit with it for now. Not that I have much of a choice.

8. I'd forgotten how easy it is to get attached to clients, because I don't experience it the same way while leading groups. Individuals and couples, though? Time to amp up the self-care.

9. This weekend is going to be hectic. Today I need to work on my AR, then Armando's birthday get-together, then I have to hang out at the show for at least a bit because I'm going to test-ride Irene's bike. Then more AR work. Tomorrow I am meeting a pretty lady for coffee and then doing even more AR work, with a dash of "busy work essay for Wellness & Recovery" thrown in. Plus power-walking and perhaps bike-ordering, and certainly Droid-obsessing.

10. Alright, I'm leaving my bed. Gotta get to it!

Hmm.

This weekend I found a CD of all my old pictures from senior year of high school and my year at Shasta College. So, Spring '05-fall '06. It was a trip to see photos of my first major girl crush, all my ex-boyfriends, the first night I got wasted, my first weekend in Chico, that horrible trip to Humboldt the day I got fired from JC Penney where tweekers broke into Josh's car and stole my stuff... I used to document everything back then. It was all so new and exciting. Especially the drinking and the boys. I can't believe it's been five fucking years since I got out of high school and four years since I moved to Chico. That feels like a different life, lived by a different person; but shit, it's gone by so quickly.

Today I was sitting outside Empire with YJ listening to two people play guitar and sing pretty softly under an overcast sky. There was a pleasant breeze. I was trying to articulate the anxieties I have about finding a partner. I don't know if I was super relaxed because of the atmosphere or what, but I started being honest with myself. To continue the trend, here are some concerns:

1. I very rarely meet people that I'm emotionally, intellectually, and sexually attracted to. Hell, I barely meet people I want to retain as close friends, let alone partners.

2. I've internalized all the cultural ideals of forever monogomy and soulmates, especially after growing up looking at my parents' marriage. I don't want to believe in this, but deep down, the messages are still influencing me.

3. At the same time, cognitively I don't believe that marriage or a lifelong partnership would work for me. I'm not even sure I believe in monogomy. But how do I reconcile this with the visceral emotional reactions I have in real life? My insecurities tend to overwhelm the happy ideals of non-ownership and mutual trust.

4. Going deeper, I see myself with a man. I know this is internalized heterosexism, but if I'm totally honest with myself, I picture myself sharing my life with a man. This is not what I consciously want. Sexually, I'm much more interested in women. I would probably need an open relationship if a long-term partnership with a man were to develop. But again... I don't know if I'm capable of handling that. So it's a shitty double bind.

I've got years to process this, I know. That's what our 20s are for, right? But I want to fit "it." I want to fall in love and have it turn into something stable. Not right now, and not in the near future, but sometime... and I'd like to have some idea of what it could look like.

Check-in.

The families have had to cancel a lot this semester, so practicum ends up being time to hang out more than anything else. Yesterday I spent the time breaking off from the group with Kevin and Pat, eating hella scones, and talking smack. I enjoy the time it gives me with Pat, especially, since he is so overloaded with his family and work and school and doesn't go out much.

Other things of note:
Poor sleep/depressive symptoms I need to get on top of asap, except not enough to write about them. Ha.
Fuckin' allergies
Always girl-crazy, but been boy-crazy the past week too. What?
Two "talks" I need to have this week
BLAAAAAHHHHHH.

Just venting.

So. Our AS president was stabbed in a hate crime this weekend (he is, physically at least, okay) after a few weeks of rising racial tensions in the community. People are outraged; there was a forum; etc. I was fucking angry when I heard the news last night, but not surprised. What a privileged position, to be surprised by hate crimes! In any case, clearly there needs to be a response. An intervention. But what? A short-lived awareness campaign and more forums aren't going to help much. Broader systemic solutions are needed... but are they plausible?

This morning I helped my first client at Safe Place. I see my couple tomorrow for class and things are starting to pick up at 6th Street. This in conjunction with the questions raised by the hate crime has resulted in one of those classic days of helping profession anguish. I see an endless parade of clients in front of me who are living out the symptoms of our sick society, and to what end? Societal change is fucking slow and will never come close to reaching our ideal. (Sure, we have people working tirelessly for our goals. But I have little faith in the motives of people in positions of power and influence. Once you get out of the trenches, compromises must be made at every level, and once it reaches the top, so to speak, what the fuck does it mean anymore?) So we keep absorbing the trauma of our clients and loved ones while feeling powerless to eradicate the source. Not to mention our own experiences of trauma and oppression, and the added stress of potential triggers every hour of the workday.

There are other, more productive ways to frame this and I'm usually more optimistic (idealistic?) than I am today. But I am new to all of this and it's fucking overwhelming sometimes. I suspect that I will get better at processing these ideas with time. I won't allow myself to succumb to burnout or apathy, that's for sure.

Navel-gazing.

The first thing I said when I woke up yesterday was "Really?" It was 5:30 am. I sat up and looked over in disbelief at Bo's bare shoulder peeking out over the covers. It all came back to me: How Michele and I started way too early and drank way too much, how she met a boy and we all went to hang out at his house, how insecure she became towards me, how the tension triggered mad anxiety in me, and how I felt like a child desperate for comfort-- how, in that desperation, I "had to leave" and seek out someone I trusted to envelop me with warmth and calm me down. My options were limited, since the pool of people I trust to take care of me when I'm an emotional drunk is small anyway, and most of it lives outside Chico. So I called YJ and Bo. I spent the next few hours sitting in Bo's room having a minor meltdown. He helped me process through it and eventually I got to the point where I could carry on a normal conversation. The last thing I remember is him asking if it was fucked up that he wanted to cuddle with me right then, and us cuddling despite our shared ambivalence. I guess we fell asleep that way because neither of us remember moving apart, which is highly unusual, but I digress. I woke up at 5:30 am and was overcome with insecurity remembering these things.

It turned out fine. Michele and I apologized to each other. I apologized to Bo and he seemed to understand. But the experience reminded me of how I need to safeguard myself against the anxiety. It was incredibly difficult for me to climb out of the shame spiral I found myself in-- and impossible the night before when I was drunk. I had been doing so well the week before, too; thinking positively, feeling confident, trusting myself. Just goes to show how quickly and violently it can break back in.

Last night was a bit more carefree. Michele and I went to Duffy's and were courted by middle-aged businessmen. They actually sent drinks over through the bartender. We told them we were gay and talked politics-- managed to turn it into a productive conversation that perhaps changed some minds.

And today: feeling aimless and trying to decipher what need isn't being met. Went for a long powerwalk earlier and it was great.

So many things that you can't say in a public blog. I am wondering how things are going to change now that MJ and Stacey have broken up. How I can help them though it. How to soften my feelings for Bo and still be able to hang out with him, which, who was I kidding, is going to be a difficult task. How to tell my family about August graduation. How to talk to who's it about what's it. What can I do to help myself right now? Get productive? Watch something? The roof of my mouth is badly burnt from the pizza we ate last night. Maybe ice cream. What's open? Such helpful self-soothing.

Today

I slept in a little bit, till about 9:15, and the first thing I saw upon waking was the blue sky outside my window. Then I had a session with a couple at 6th St. that seemed to go well. Came home, ate leftover Thai, took a nap, and answered a message from a cute lady on OKCupid. Rode my bike back to 6th St. for a short shift, then rode to Empire to do case notes but ended up bullshitting outside with YJ and Bo and Ben. Afterwards, I walked through the market and picked up cucumber raita and naan from Guzetti's and strawberries to share with Michele. Just rode back home to a full house. Gonna eat and then we are riding to Coda for the Cammies folk showcase. The sun hasn't set yet and the raita is delicious. These are the kinds of days that remind me of how good my life is. I mean, damn.

I should be sleeping.

All the girls are gone. Lobby Days. I hate being in this house alone. It's been a good weekend, though. Friday night we went to the Shankers/Candy Apple show at Duffy's. I was transfixed by Candy Apple's bassist-- the stoic demeanor, the glasses-- swoon! After the show a little group of us started a dance party and I grooved on the stage. It took forever for me to get drunk; regardless, I was able to relax and enjoy being in the moment.

In the morning, we all woke up around the same time and commiserated in the living room while Peluche freaked out and chewed on everything in sight. MJ made us a delicious breakfast and we ate at the table, like a family. I realized how much I'm going to miss all of this when it's gone. That night I touched up my hair (it's fuschia now) and got some much-needed time alone.

And today, I spent several hours at Empire transitioning from "hanging out" to hanging out. A good talk was tucked in there-- closure, honesty, planning, validation, clarity-- although I had to add "We both know it's more than a glimmer" to the pile of things I'd say if I had balls. Ah well. Not so worried anymore. I know what I know about the past, and the future will take care of itself. I got Thai food, watched Veronica Mars, did homework, and Skyped Ish, who just finished a kickass run of the Vagina Monologues. She is so beautiful and strong, raw and immediate in a way that I can barely fathom. I wish she could remember these things.

Throat is sore. Realized I forgot to take my allergy meds this morning. So much to take care of tomorrow... why am I listening to Aesop Rock and blogging instead of trying to sleep? Okay, let's be honest, the answer to that is "I spent five hours drinking caffeine this afternoon." Curse you, Empire Coffee!

Other things I'd say if I had balls:
"I'm totally queer."
"You abuse your power in unacceptable ways."
"I want you back in my life."
"I want in your pants so badly it hurts."
"The intensity of your needs makes me uncomfortable."
"Sometimes when I think about the two of you, I feel like punching you and then crying."
"Let me live my own life."

Time to dig up some graves.

"Juliet knew that, to many people, she might seem to be odd and solitary-- and so, in a way, she was. But she had also had the experience, for much of her life, of feeling surrounded by people who wanted to drain away her attention and her time and her soul. And usually, she let them."

The best type of art, for me, is the kind that makes me want to create something myself. Reading Alice Munro makes me want to write. Yesterday I read the title story in Runaway on my midday break. I started to feel something stirring in me. But... I didn't have enough time to draw it out. Now I feel strangely pressured and lost-- as if I'm growing over myself, like thick vines on a wall, if that makes any sense at all. Something wants out. I can feel it clawing at my insides.

I had such a rich inner life as a teenager. Writing came so easily; it just happened, like breathing. I was more open with myself then. I was depressed, an insomniac, self-loathing-- but open with myself. Often I would stay up all night listening to music and writing, letting the emotion run over me like water. It didn't scare me necessarily, and I had no investment in my daily routine, which challenged me so little that I could afford to be anguished. Clearly that fact as well as the natural state of extreme adolescent narcissism created a prime environment for written exploration of each facet of the aforementioned inner life. I no longer have that luxury. Obviously, what makes it so difficult for me to write now is the efficiency with which I bury my emotions. Unconsciously I think I am afraid to let go and be spontaneous in that expression, since it might unleash something that could compromise my functioning. So... I hold back, despite my need to express, and then I'm unable to truly capture what I need to, so I get frustrated with myself, and give up.

This shit is maddening.

Scattered thoughts about our town.

Yesterday reminded me just how small and interconnected Chico is. This resulted in many ponderings. There are the ethical considerations of seeing clients in the wild and even mentioning it publicly in this blog. I'm also wondering what's more important to me at this time in my life, privacy or connection. My immediate family is a fairly closed system. There are clear differentiations between who is family and who isn't, and a lot of meaning attached to those labels. Other people are welcomed and respected, but they are still outsiders. Even logistical things reflect this. Having people "drop by" the house is a foreign concept. Photos of significant others don't go on the fridge or the walls. We don't speak openly about family problems. There are clear boundaries between us and the outside world.

Contrast this with the open system I now exist in here in Chico, where the boundaries between roles/people are fuzzy and negotiable. The nonprofits-- the queers-- the punk rockers-- the MFT/MSW programs-- all very, very "small" communities. MJ and Stacey were brainstorming women to set me up with last night and hit a dead end. I said I was on hiatus from looking because "in Chico, you know everyone, and it's always going to be the friend/ex of a friend/ex, and if it's not, you have to wonder about that person because otherwise, wouldn't someone you respect already be friends with them?"

And that is the double bind. I do love the sense of community that I feel here, but it can be oppressive. I enjoy walking in somewhere and seeing someone I know... unless it's an ex, or someone I had a falling out with, or a client. I like feeling like I know everyone, until I want to meet someone new.

I think my definitions of privacy and connection have changed quite a bit recently. My main focus now is balancing the two-- how to reaffirm and maintain my form while allowing it to be more flexible and permeable than ever before. Also, I realized while talking with Kevin on Tuesday that I've come to value that sense of community so highly that the prospect of losing it after graduation is fucking unsettling. I'm afraid to start over, and I want to share all of this with my brother when he moves here.

Hmm... being a therapist in a small town is challenging, and there are other issues, but overall, I feel at home in Chico right now. I am also on the verge of growing out of it and needing to broaden my horizons. Oh... the journey continues: allowing myself to "be where I am."

Today was so chaotic, so productive, so breathless, and mostly, just so fucking objectively beautiful, that I want to explode into a million pieces and be everywhere all at once: with myself, with my friends, with my family, with everyone I've ever known and loved. There is so much promise in the air; I can taste it.

Back the fuck off, shame spirals.

This situation is providing a lot of insight...

I can't decide whether to feel pathetic or strong. At the end of the day I'm leaning towards strong. Everyone's telling me variations on "You go, girl!", throwing out words like "brave" and "self-aware." They're not wrong. I am proud of myself for my honesty-- with myself and with Bo-- and how I allowed myself to inhabit the vulnerable place that it required.

The trouble I'm having now is that I want to express the full extent of my hurting. But I wasn't honest with my friends about how much I cared in the first place, so I don't know how to do that. I'm sure they all figured it out. Anyway, that and other things are holding me back from reaching out without my facade of detachment. I got misty-eyed in front of YJ but other than that, I've been utterly collected and rational for my public.

I don't want this. I don't want to keep viewing emotional expression as bad and weak. I want to own my vulnerability and find the strength in it. There is a lot of power in this place.

Today was confidence-building. I TA'ed in the morning and helped facilitate growth in my members. Art told me that I handled the conflict in the group last week "perfectly." I connected with a lot of friends that I haven't been able to talk to in awhile. Kevin and I met with our couple again in Family Practicum, and it was fucking amazing how much of a transformation has taken place over four sessions. I am trusting myself in many areas of my life, and that was heartening to remember.

So-- instead of adding this experience to the "I am always the weaker and more vulnerable person" pile, I will label it thusly: "I am strong enough to be vulnerable, and to trust that I know what's right."

Jumbled.

You know, this whole time I've been blaming myself for holding back. I've been sure that my instinct was to open up, that my anxiety and fear were getting in the way. Not so. I wanted to open up, but my intuition was telling me not to, that it wasn't safe. I realized this while I was giving Bo the case for not continuing, but YJ helped me internalize it. She actually went further, characterizing me as "more ready" as opposed to less, which seems to be true but is a jarring revelation.

I knew something wasn't right, but I automatically discounted it. Time and time again I'm seeing how trustworthy my instincts are. If only I could believe in them.

The tide's coming in

All I can think of are impressions and moments. MJ smoothing her eggplant-colored shirt with a worried look on her face in preparation for meeting Stacey's mom. Peluche curling up on my feet in my room, hiding from the sound of the vacuum. Bo getting ready for the day. Smiling and nodding while the LCs show me photos of in-jokes and exploits that I'm no longer a part of. Realizing I haven't heard my dad's voice in a few weeks. The way Sun Kil Moon's "Glenn Tipton" so accurately captures the dull ache of nostalgia. Summer air rushing over me on dusky bike rides. Drinking cheap wine on porches and in backyards. Dreams about cradling lady hips in my hands. Afternoons lulled into uneasy solitude.

When I feel something coming, I don't always know what it is. It takes a little while to sort it out. This afternoon brought some clarity. I think I'm on the brink of falling open, of letting everything rush through me like it does sometimes. I feel myself exhausting, crumbling around the edges. The state I think I'm approaching can be likened to standing naked and immobile in the kind of harsh, dry wind that cuts right through your bones. It's like I experience everything all at once, with no filter. My senses become more acute. The emotions and moods of other people become unbearably present and I can't shut them out. It's overwhelming.

I have small moments of this frequently, and they're much more manageable. One really memorable one was on Bo's porch a few weeks ago on a windy night. I listened to the trees and wind chimes swaying and felt it swelling up-- felt myself dissolving into the air, becoming utterly connected and raw. I closed my eyes and let myself go. It was euphoric.

Sometimes I think that this is my natural state, and that I've overcompensated through the years in order to survive. (This is another way to characterize my anxiety, a more personal and spiritual way that feels healthier to me. I should think of it more often.) My mom is vulnerable in a similar way-- so open to the pain and joy of her world that it overwhelms her. And of course she struggles with anxiety as well. We all need filters to survive this life. This might not make sense to a lot of people, but I feel that my mom and I, and many others I've known, are connected with and open to our world in an unusually acute way. I get in this space when I'm so exhausted by trying to hold everything at arm's length that I can't hold anything there.

There's a happy medium, to be sure. But it occurred to me today that I don't need to think of this space as negative. It's scary, overwhelming, and exhausting-- but also beautiful and enlightening and real. I don't have to run from it, and I don't have to characterize my fear of it as anxiety disordered behavior. This is how I am. Simple as that.

Shut up, brain!

The 6th St. training got out early so I have a second to relax before I run off to collect Bo and Michele and my mac n cheese and head to the MFT potluck and the art show. Nobody's home and I feel all giddy, like a little kid in a secret hiding place. I want to fall asleep and not have to deal with anyone for awhile, but I know I'll regret it if I do. I'm blogging to stay awake.

So... I didn't sleep last night. I had a beer and one of those weird sedating/anti-anxiety antihistamines I'm supposed to take as needed, and I still didn't sleep. Also, I've been itchy all day and I'm paranoid that the hives are coming back. It's because my antibiotics are drying out my skin, but I'm anxious anyway, because if there's an opportunity to be anxious I always take it.

And on that note, the unease is creeping up on me again. I feel like I'm behind a screen at all times and can't quite connect with the world around me. This time I'm quite aware of why, just not what to do about it. In the short term, I mean. Since in an ideal world, in which I had the emotional energy to do the following things, I would: come out to my family, confront the anxiety in myself and in my family, find a new therapist, learn to consistently assert my needs, reach out to my friends about the things I have kept hidden, and stop running from emotional attachment. The theme in all this is me putting on a front for other people. Various fronts, really, because people want different things. I'm calm and together for my family. I'm straight and gender-normative for my extended family. I'm agreeable and sexually healthy, among other things, for my friends. Etc. Of course I feel like there's "something" getting in between me and the world; there's a million fucking things.

Maybe I should rename this thing "Anxiety Blog." It's probably been a bummer to read so far. I'm trying to process through all of this instead of burying it, though. In life as well as in this blog. I think I've taken some concrete steps towards better health lately... even writing this stuff publicly is something, y'know?

Went out last night for Jackey's birthday-- everybody was at Duffy's, and there was even decent music for a little while. We all danced together and got super goofy. Also, Brian, who drives the Ecocab, remembers where I live now. So convenient!

Ran into Josh and his mom earlier today while I was at Empire. It wasn't too awkward but it put me into a strange mood, thinking about the past and how quickly everything changes; how little stability there really is in life. Well, seeing them as well as thinking about the MFT potluck tomorrow evening, where I'll be hanging out with people that used to be my closest friends and are now practically acquaintences. So, there's at least three people who I thought would be semi-permanent parts of my life-- and I don't usually allow myself to acknowledge that-- who, well, you get the idea. (That was the first time I've believed that I've found stability and lost it, so bear with me. I know it's not an earth-shattering revelation.)

I've been grappling with this idea for about a year now (accepting, even embracing impermanence, I mean), but it's still fucking rough for me when I encounter something I want to hold onto and the reality of loss stares me in the face. I think that's another reason I am having trouble thinking about graduation. It's clearly one of two driving forces behind my commitment phobia. I know all of the logical reasons why impermanence is not a negative thing. Why it is healthy for me to be working towards embracing it. Blah blah blah. It's getting better. But if I had to identify my main interpersonal struggle at this time in my life, that would be it.

MJ's puppy just peeked through my doorway. Hi!

Going to Yuba City for Easter... so I have three days to come up with a safe explanation for my hair, as well as store up a bunch of energy to act appropriately feminine and heteronormative and well-adjusted. We'll see.

Off to go bake my mac and cheese for tomorrow night. Fucking starving.

Two thoughts

It's still a beautiful day. It's been pleasant so far. I do love being a TA on eventful days. To jump in confidently, assuming unconsciously that I know what's best-- I'd do well to try that in real life more often.

What sunlight! And I'm comforted by my routine. I'm eating chili at Upper Crust, which I find myself doing most Tuesdays, most days, really. After this I'll walk to Empire, where all the baristas grab the Earl Gray when I walk inside, and the booths are filled with friends and acquaintances. I'm blogging excessively. Routine. It's all solitary, too, which I think accounts for a large part of the comfort. Another tidbit to remember.

Illusions, Michael!

Last night I touched up my hair, went to a show with Michele, had a few beers, and imploded. I have that nagging feeling this morning that I either fucked something up or am about to. Last night was mostly fun. My hair is purple again! At the show, Imaad Wasif's drummer spilled beer all over my bag, so he bought us drinks. Also, they were great. I took off during their last song so I hope Michele got one of their albums like we talked about. There were so many cute girls with short hair. Love.

It's beautiful out right now but it's supposed to storm again later. Super fucking lame. It's supposed to be Spring! WTF?

Last night I told Bo that the idea of love fills me with such terror that I'm not going to let myself get near it. He said, "It's going to happen. Whether it's me or someone else, it will happen, whether you want it to or not." Right. Exactly. That's the problem.

It's like I'm scaling the walls of a fairly deep, dark cave. Now and again I'll find myself paused and comfortable with a firm, steady grip. So I relax a little. Immediately I lose my footing and start tumbling into the abyss, arms flailing around, trying desperately to catch myself on something. And when I find something to grab onto to stop myself, I fucking hold on for dear life. I don't know what's down there. Possibly dinosaurs. And sharks. I can almost hear them, except I must be full of shit because they've got to be so far away that hearing them would be impossible.

Now that I've stretched that metaphor way too thin, I'm going to watch the session I missed last week and see how my couple is doing, and get ready to TA. The day is starting, whether I want it to or not, and I'mma make it good.

23

List of things I haven't wanted in the last few days: to be in Chico, sex, companionship, to be productive, to show any sort of expression at all, feelings. Ruh roh! Something's coming...

Granted, it's the sort of winter-throwback Spring day that reminds us we're not out of the woods yet, which is always jarring and fosters a lot of resentment.

Let's get to it: I've never really fucked up or made horrible choices, and I'm having an intense urge to self-destruct. You know, abandon my almost-completed master's degree. Sabotage the budding proto-relationship I've found myself in. Isolate myself from my friends. Generally allow the depressed lethargy that's chilling at the back of my mind to take over for awhile.

Now. A version of this happens every winter. I'm having anxiety about graduation and entering the real world. I'm threatened by the thought of emotional intimacy for the first time after last fall's breakup. How many rationalized explanations I can come up with for why this will all turn out okay? A lot. I'm very stable and I get shit done. I always have. It's how I've come this far, and that's a long fucking way for someone my age.

But the weight of my competence is starting to feel oppressive. That sounds egotistical as fuck, but it's the truth. There are nefarious reasons for my success and a lot of them go back to my anxiety.

Really I'm not in that horrible limbo state with everything in my life. I made the decision about my AR and summer graduation, which feels right in a basic, instinctual way. I'm committed to everything I'm doing this semester that relates to actual counseling, because I love it. I'm getting up every morning and doing what I need to be doing to move forward. The anxiety isn't controlling my life so much as contributing to it in a manageable way. I suppose the one loose end here is the interpersonal aspect of my life. I'm still keeping everyone at arm's length. Lately, especially, I've been neglecting a lot of friendships just due to being short on time. But I have been trying-- reconnecting with Sam, for instance, was really gratifying and therapeutic.

I haven't made a decision to commit to stamping out the drama that's going on in the inner circle. I haven't made a decision to be totally honest in the way I describe how I'm feeling about my life right now to a significant portion of the people in my life. Etc. Yes, I'm still in hiding, and I don't know what to do about it, or even how to stop if I do decide that I want to. How do I even make that decision? And what I am so fucking afraid of?

Bronchitis and the meaning of life.

I'm sitting in Empire sucking down caffeine before my PCIT appointment at 12:45. I haven't had caffeine in four days because of the bronchitis, which has become a major cramp in my style. Although I can't argue with three doctor-mandated days of bed rest in the fragile state of mind I've inhabited for the past several months. Finally made a decision about my AR. I'm finishing it over summer. I can still walk in May and the extra time will give me more of a chance to settle into 6th St. and get more PCIT training. Not to mention the fact that I'll stay sane. I'm so done with stress. I want to drop everything and tell everyone to back the fuck off and leave me alone. But that's what I do when I'm depressed and isolating myself and I know that doesn't get me anywhere. Soooo I'm gonna throw myself into the things I care about-- my internships and family practicum-- and, since something has to give, it's going to be the AR. Can you tell I have some shame about the decision? 'Cause I do. You don't finish a master's at 23 if you don't have some shit driving you.

In any case, the "leave me alone" sentiments, though extreme, do need to be placated. I realized during my glorious days of doing nothing but sleeping and laying on the couch watching DVDs (and coughing so hard that I puked and having shaking chills and sweating excessively and feeling like I was going to pass out) that I haven't spent any time alone lately. Any. At all. I've been running, running, running around trying to do everything and see everyone. No. I love my alone time! It recharges me. And it's springtime! I've been sleep-deprived and had health problems for three solid months. I'm rebelling. Over. Done.

High school love poetry I don't hate.

I've decided to cut the snark for a moment and post a few poems that don't make me cringe when I read them. Most of them are just moments or impressions, maybe inspired by reality but existing mostly in my head. They're all about love and connection, because that's pretty much all I wrote about for the last few years of high school.


Road Trip

Take me farther
down the
road
till we can’t see behind
us, and you
are all that fills the cornfield
in my head.
Through the singing
of the tires and the wind
in the trees,
take me under this orange sky
and bless me.

1/16/03


Suspension of Gravity

Unlike the serious diamond
on my finger, or the mountains
that we now watch
cover the sun (represented
by the tiny lumps on paper and cardboard
that hang in your expensively private study:
this is where you're going, this is where you've been),
you are not solid.
Any moment now, I fear that you will disappear
in an explosion of stars and light:
leaving me with no anchor,
nothing to hold me to the descending earth.

(2004)


Sway

I wandered back behind the parking lot,
through the maze of pine and cedars,
trying to emulate the air-
which seemed so crisp, articulate. You were in
the dance hall, shiny in your quick clean
shoes: and your movements
swayed the trees straight up to the highest
branches. It grew colder. I leaned into
the ground and watched their needles weave
a pattern across the moon, thinking of you.

(2004)


Happenstance

You are beautiful,
but I do not know you.
Only after the passing of this
will I first clearly be able to see
the whole of you,
darling:

(Beyond your quick, deft
hands; your skillful words and
interwoven silences;

your ever-present sweet-
expensive smell, which mingles
with that of the honeysuckle
vines of my childhood
memories.)

(2004)

Triggers

So it dawned on me this weekend that I've been dealing with loss all semester through sheer repression, and now it's all coming back up.

My defenses have been up. I've been unable to connect with my emotions. In the middle of the semester I existed in a fog, barely going through the motions of my daily life while having absolutely nothing to offer anyone. It started looking up eventually. I re-invested myself in school and counseling. I started "getting out there," getting closer to several of my friends, meeting new people, making out with everyone I've ever met, etc. It was a good time, but somewhere around the end of finals week, a sense of unease began to creep over me. With all of the stress and sleep deprivation of finals, the process of coming out in Chico and then being slapped in the face with the cold hard reality of staying closeted in my family at Christmas, the weight of everyone's expectations, dealing with being single and attracted to people again, and finally inadvertently hanging out with my ex yesterday... it was just too much. That last run-in was the last straw. It was thoroughly fine and pleasant at the time, but I had to face the fact that I am still emotionally ravaged, and as a result, I have withdrawn to the point that there is a gaping hole in my life in terms of emotional intimacy with other people.

I have become so guarded and terrified at the thought of opening up to people. It's been weeks since I was emotional in front of a friend. I remember crying in front of my mom about various things over Thanksgiving break and that's the last time I really allowed myself to be vulnerable. I want to reach out to everyone, but when it comes time for me to do it, I feel numb. I can talk for days about my self-doubt and defense mechanisms, but it's all intellectualized and distant.

So my New Year's resolution is to allow myself to be vulnerable. I'm exhausted from keeping all of this so buried. I want to stop trying to keep my distance from people by repressing my emotions and intellectualizing everything. I just want to be present in my life. It's like there's this wall between me and my life right now. I can kind of see through it-- enough to notice vague shapes on the other side-- but not enough to really connect with what's happening. I'm tired of it and it needs to change.

My High School Poetry, v. I: "Society totally isn't ready for how deep and tortured I am."

So this was the end of my freshman year, when I was transitioning from being in denial-- wearing heels and glitter makeup all the time and pretending to be interested in normal stuff like high school boys and the mall-- to being totally emo and clinically depressed. Society SUCKS, you guys! People are FAKE! And I have so many problems that they can't see! Why won't they see me?!?!?!

Coming up soon...
v. II: my Lord of the Rings phase
v. III: e.e. cummings is so awesome that I'm going to rip him off in everything that I write for over a year
v. IV: overwhelmingly idealized descriptions of the true love I know I'll find really, really soon, but not yet, because the only thing more romantic than love is the false sense of superiority that comes with hating everyone around you

*

Locked Inside the Box

When did it end?
That childlike wonder
curiosity flowing through our veins
The hunger for discovery
lust for passion
When life was the pursuit of happiness
and happiness was sincere
Never concealed and overshadowed
by society’s shining stars and brand names
How do we reverse this destruction?
When was the birth of our corruption?
Were we ever really alive
or are we born breathless walkers
stalkers and killers and trembling cowards
afraid and unable to break the surface
of our sunken dominion
We are taught not to question
but told to think outside the box
Life is a maze of boxes
all piled, one over another
And in them we are packed together
like milk cartons in a crate
The thirst of tyrants
drains our personal power out of our souls
Our own roots are concealed
until we are one
society and individual
Alive without breath
speaking without saying a thing
With vacant eyes we survey our surroundings
jack-o-lantern grins littering pancake faces
never knowing what is
or what could be

5/30/02


Submerged Kingdom

Don’t mind me
Let me stay alone
You try to label me
but you look right through me
A faceless presence
cloaked in shadow
Threatening your world of sunshine
You say love truth beauty happiness
but where am I?
Fallen through the cracks, they whisper
melting into the shadows
observing from behind closed doors
I see you, though you don’t see me
I know you better than you know yourself
But don’t mind me
Turn away as you watch me drown
in this submerged kingdom
of your love truth beauty happiness
And the decay beneath the surface

4/16/02


Tearless

You used to cry.
Remember when?
You were young, carefree.
Boundaries did not exist,
and opinions had no hold over you.
Then you grew up.
You abandoned you childhood in a dark alley
as you ran to meet your friends.
Do you remember?
It’s not like you can cry now.
Your mascara will run and your friends will laugh.
Your eyes clear over time,
and you forget the days when they were
deep wells of love and emotion,
instead of pretty things to paint up and direct at boys.
Then you wake up one morning,
after countless years have passed,
and you don’t recognize yourself.
The beauty of your youth is gone,
and what now do you have?
Nothing.
You shake with the realization
that you have nothing.
And you cry once again.
Salty drops cascade down your stricken face,
tearless for so long.
Now you cry not in freedom
but for the loss of it.

4/26/02