well, jesus god, let's hope so, carl.
well, jesus god, let’s hope so, carl.

i know i said i’d be more chipper in future blog posts, and you guys. aaaaghhh! (with myself.) seriously, i think i started about 10 different blog posts, but they felt fake and forced and i am many many things, but i am not fake and i am not forced. (other things i am not: vindictive, unforgiving, abusive, narcissistic, or cold-hearted. i am also not a bank – i don’t owe anybody anything, unless their name is Miss M. for some people in the world this is a very difficult concept to grasp, that no one owes you a thing; that if someone talks to you and wants to be friends with you, just feel blessed and try not to fuck it up too much. if the friendship ends for whatever reason, and sometimes friendships do because they are simply too intense to sustain, try to learn from it, make the necessary psychic adjustments, and move on. this is very, very hard for people who think if they are just tenacious enough eventually they’ll get what they’re fighting for. those people are exhausting, and my love and forgiveness is extended to them, with a wish they eventually find a friendship that will meet their needs. tenacity is fabulous in self-improvement situations; it is always disastrous when trying to control and fix other people.)

so. i don’t know if you can tell or not, but the internet is kind of an icky-feeling place for me at this point, and this is partly why i’m having such a hard time being relaxed now and making good-natured jokes here. if you follow me on social media, oh i may seem all pleasant and jokester-y. but that’s only because i clean up well.

however.  i am far, FAR better than i was during the holidays – thank god THOSE are done. when i struck out on my own in june, it was summer and warm and the sun was out until 9 pm. i never once stopped to think what miss m’s birthday would feel like as a separated/divorcing mom…or how emotional thanksgiving could be (i mean, it’s just freaking turkey)…or christmas…or new  years. i never stopped to think: man. i have horrible, terrible, very bad seasonal affective disorder (self-diagnosed); how will it be to live on my own through a dark and dreary winter with a lot of el nino rain mucking everything up, completely responsible by myself for all the things? i never weighed that in my determination to be free, not for a single second. what i was worried about was being responsible enough to pay bills on time. turns out, i’m freaking great at that – responsibility is my middle name. it’s all the other shit that’s kicking my ass, and winter and el nino are having this totally dysfunctional love affair and are both just being the biggest douchebags to everyone everywhere.

(and no, mom, i’m NOT getting a happy light. the last one you gave me was thoughtful and sweet, but futile. i need real, actual sun and warmer temperatures. ……i may have to move to bali or maldives and pretend i’m brooke shields, except i know i’d look more like tom hanks.)

and yet…i generally AM okay. for all intents and purposes, i am doing okay. like, if you sat and talked to me on the phone, or we went out to dinner, i’d be pretty happy. i might woe-is-me-it for a bit, or even become really weepy with you a little depending on what day you got me, but you’d snap me out of it pretty quick. because i’d FEEL pretty happy about being with another adult – i’d be excited about getting out of this apartment or having someone with good energy come visit me here and drinking an adult beverage or ten with a really awesome human being who didn’t want to talk about my little pony or pokemon or whatever. and i’d be renewed and refreshed and super enthused for a good while because that’s what being around good energy does to me…but then i’d be back to being by myself again, alone and brooding about my lot in life, and…crap. just not FEELING okay.

this is the dickish cycle i am currently in.

in addition, right now one major source of major ick for me is that my credit card company and i are having a love-hate affair. they have cut me off, and i am terrified of them. such a disastrously dysfunctional relationship. and yet i know – I KNOW – as soon as they let me back in, i’m going to be wildly promiscuous with them and their hedonist calls once again. (but for now, i’ve battened down the hatches, and am living off what i make. which is both empowering and terrifying and depressing all at once. empowering because, well, i’m fucking DOING it. terrifying because…what if money runs out? how will i eat? what if i come home to find myself evicted, all my belongings on the sidewalk? depressing because…i will NEVER get to tuscany at this rate, and i am going to be stuck in this job until i die goddammit.)

i also have a love-hate relationship with social media and, you, (yes you), Internet. last year at this time, i loved you most of all. i was all la la laaaaaaaa! skipping around all happy and writing my little jokey blogs, once in awhile spewing some depressive spleen poison into your ether, but generally larking about with you wantonly and brazenly like a technological floozy, with nary a care in the world about who read what i wrote or why or what they thought about it or me.

and now? pffft. it’s all pffft. and really there’s not much i can do about feeling like this except make the decision to stop letting it affect me so much – to decide that i’m not what happened to me, i am what i choose to become. (that’s carl jung again, by the way. and right now, if carl jung were here, i bet he’d tell me what i’m choosing to become is mired in my own darkness, which has its place but needs to be balanced out with my light…meanwhile, sigmund freud would show up smoking a big cigar and say in a very thick german accent: “cahl, vhat dis vahn needs eez a heet of some of my Uber Coca und a goot sublimation of her libido.” and then carl would start to tell sigmund about how dream symbols would probably be healthier for me and sigmund would accuse carl’s dad of doing the most heinous things when carl was a child and…where was i?)

right, yes. i’m trying to take deep breaths and be who i was, the way i was, at this time last year. she was a big friggin’ mess, that girl, but she wasn’t completely checked out and defeated by the world and what lurks in it; that classy chick had spunk and gumption. she was mad and angry and determined to bring out her inner bohemian, her latent anais nin, the free and reckless spirit she was before she understood how hard Life can work to break those kinds.

(please also know: i am still determined to bring out my inner bohemian and latent anais nin, and i occasionally DO access the reckless spirit that still exists within me and refuses to acknowledge what a self-involved prick Life can be to the bohemian free spirits of the world. it’s just that it’s a hell of a lot harder these days.)

it could be the winter. it could be situational. it could be this is just one of those sideways valleys my friend becky told me i’d inevitably hit when i embarked on this journey. i usually embrace my light and my darkness, because i think you’re not whole without both. people who are perfect all the time are usually hiding something massive, and my dad always said there’s something wrong with people who smile all the time.

yet i am also mostly okay. until i am not. on those dark nights (and days) of the soul, i find myself having to really focus my breaths, having to concentrate on getting out of the hour i am in, so i can get through the next hour, and then the next. i have a small child who helps a lot – we cuddle and watch ridiculous shows like liv and maddie and jessie and dog with a blog and sometimes family guy until they start talking about something incredibly inappropriate and i make her turn it off. but she’s also exhausting and i find i really need quiet time where i can just lie on a sofa and watch  lot of documentaries about dead people.

other than all that, there’s no point to this blog entry except to say: i’m feeling quite sideways lately, stuck in a deep valley of shadows with occasional dapples of sunlight. but i also am very blessed with amazingly supportive offline and online friends, and this will probably save me in the end. i wish i could win the $655 million lottery, rent out a whole entire Hawaiian island, and fly all of these people there for a massive meet up party and friendship orgy.

(in the meantime, just know i’m sad, more days than not, and i’m really sorry i keep writing about it. god bless you if you keep reading this crap. and if you actually care, i will buy you dinner at some point.) …if my credit card company reads that, they’ll probably have a rage-filled orgasm.


tree roots