Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 03, 2018

damn dumb

i've opened a beer but i'm out of lives on candy crush and also on two dots and that means i have to find something new to look at on the phone or try to be in my body in 20 minutes or however long it actually takes to drink a beer - does anyone know?
i'm sick with shuffle playing love songs. i want the passion but not the subject.
i tell myself it's okay, today is so and so, this isnt time to quit or even abstain. as if the day exists. what a fiction ! does adderall make my memory worse? could it get any worse?
(maybe i didn't know before... i'm not good at remembering the specifics but i can feel changes - or maybe i was always doing these physical things but my brain was pinballing so fast i didn't take the time to observe the physical stuff except every now and then? (oh wait your toes have been crunched up for maybe 30 minutes and it doesn't feel so great.))

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

fucking today why

saw on the calendar that today is the new moon. it's june. which means that today is the one year anniversary of chris cheating on me (to my knowledge) and also leaving me. no wonder i have felt like hell all day. and now my heart is racing and my mind is fuzzy and all the other stupid shit that happens when i get triggered. my throat closing. my eyes blurring. the whole deal. i just want to lie down but i have so much to do. i guess it's better to stay busy than to wallow.


also my cat has been gone since before the storm last night and i'm very worried.

Monday, May 28, 2018

after the flower moon party, on judy's porch

i find that i literally don't have the words taht i need.
this is nothing new. i've said it 10000 times. that's part of et problem. i say it for so many situations. it is true but the nuances are hard to me to define.
right now. i want to sincerely say oh i hope you're having a good time and that's why you might not want ot talk to me but everything i try to say think of saying comes out passive aggressively in my mind, in my type. how can i be kind? can i never be graceful?
maybe i should go and work on a letter instead of waiting for a call.

other thoughts.

i came out onto the porch to find myself in the window of the full flower moon. she's behind a tree now, i can see the peeking but before, my timing was bperfect. we were aligned. i could feel her looking at me. (yes i'm that selfish.)

i have the impulse to clamber up stairs with all four limbs and i do it as often as possible - in homes only - usualy alone and unseen. so no, not as often as possible. my exaggeration makes me a constant liar.
it is the closeness of the floor and the fully body movement and
somehow
better than when i run up on only two feet, the too quick pitpat of bouncing hair and breasts.
clambering they swing, as they should, if they must exist at all.
then comes the part where i try to define my feelings about my breasts and find it imposssible because of the shifting shifting thougthts and how hard it is to think about them at all sometimes that there is no way to make a true statement. sometimes i remember that women name their own, that their connection to them is more than inconvenient sacks, and it shocks me into the remembrance that my dysphoria exists, is real, runs deep, despite how i push it to always away.

i try calling again. i'll give it two. three. four rings. i hang up and feel like a fool. why does this power have to play? why can't i feel rooted and honest in the way i feel in so many of my other close friendships? what sets this apart? what teh fuck is wrong with me?

for some reason i'm smoking and drinking. for some reason i can't quite remember.

Saturday, May 05, 2018

why tho

i came home after two beers with a headache and i didn't care, i had two more, for the first time in at least ten and two days and is that good? am i better? i've been so miserable mad pathetic i have nothing to give. i am thinking of being dead and what ease. maybe my dream was prophetic or maybe i should be proactive. i don't need this beer that i snuck for. i don't know why i need to sneak. i crave the game. (there are so many better games)

how does everyone just make their stuff and do their things and it seems
not easy
but possible
how is it that everything to me looks like anti itself
how is it i am even still here


goddammit if you go anywhere

it takes so much strength in this state not to say it




did i write it? i don't remember.
when i came home after 2 beers after 0 for a week i felt
yuck not sleepy but tired probably could sleep but why bother when i could have another
prowled and pranced
kissed dogs
avoided questions so that old biddy wouldn't have to answer I HATED THE MOVIE I HATE THE COMPANY I HATE ALL THINGS
wasn't it supposed to get better if i wasn't drinking ?
wasn't it supposed to be booze that made my mind lo go ?
i borrowed the beer and i don't know why
i feel like all hell here by myself with: yes i did, there were two more beers, so four and i'm a wreck
the impulse is
tell yr wreck
text someone
let them know what hurt you or if it's late enough only how hurt
i'm trying to not
i'm trying to stop
if i'm true
how i have forced my sad feelings on everyone everyone everyone i know lately
- i used to be so much better at hiding -
i got it in my mind - it looked like - expressing would be better
i thought i saw it
i was jealous
all these people sharing sharing sharing and
!
there they go how
even i've seen them
so yeah okay so what's even real
so i try to let myself feel that impulse
and i'm just idiot speak a fool unhappy garbage tongues or beating down these closed doors or near nonverbal at the shore
i hate it i hate it how i could kill it
is it my turn

im supposed to back off but its hard
especially seeing f like this, yes hi, yes i drank it up
why am i nicer now
that wasn't the deal
why is it i grow meaner every day and seems like more when i'm sober


here is the feeling where i want to call them. this is probably also the thing that tomorrow i would say - why the fuck did i call them so late. how dumb. here is the thinking i will try to say.
i'm trying to keep my distance but it's hard so hard. i thought about saying something. i thought about typing true words. then i remembered im doing distance but by then i've started to open the window so i think - might as well check. and look. there is your sweet little face, you've seen and you know and still you don't speak. FUCK how it KILLS. what the fuck have i done what the fuck can i do. how can i ever make anything okay. i think - just tell them quick, the true thing, or no that's too honest or hurting or boring, no so tell another line - but no i said i wouldn't. because yes that's all i have done for two+ weeks now and i haven't gotten anything back. the method fails. i have failed. again again again.
and even still i think - if i can't have texts that work maybe i can just call and speak clear or even if not that my missed message will be a signal - the one saying i miss you and i want you around and i love you and -- pretty much the things i've tried to say with typed words on a regular basis.
they are too much or they aren't anything.
what a fucking fool.
tonight i'm glad i didn't call. did i make myself understand myself?
i'm always waking up and checking and oh fuxking gods why why why did i call at 4am what was i thinking what is wrong with me
yes yes everything yes yes kill it
i have the hardest time believing in t

Monday, April 23, 2018

dead

i don't want to be looking at a screen in this harsh light but i don't know what else to be doing. i want paper but i don't have it. i left everything in the other room and i don't want to interrupt brett and rex bonding and talking sex stuff bc i know it can't happen if i'm around. now it seems also i have the toots. so there you go. i don't know why i'm still awake. i mean i do but do i ? i've been sick and wanted to not. jeebers cries how many of these pitiful journals can i write. how do i know if i'm even alive.

Friday, January 05, 2018

maybe tomorrow no beer is best.

today i was in an okay mood. not super happy persay but confident and ready. i beat myself up a lot for not being good enough at one thing or another - my memory is garbage for one thing. i can't seem to remember all the world things other people do. but i can remember my friends and my own personal history pretty well and that makes me feel very self involved. so last night, today, i was saying, so what?? maybe i can't remember that stuff because i'm not living in the same reality as everyone else and maybe there's nothing wrong with that. maybe that means i'm egotistical on some level but it doesn't mean i don't care. maybe i just need to embrace that i'm comfortable over here and i don't need to try to memorize all the same facts as everyone else just for the sake of conversation. maybe it's okay to make faces in the mirror and try to be in my wiggle body.

i had been excited about the concept of dell arte, then i looked again at the curriculum and the tuition and quickly became intimidated and overwhelmed. then i got settled into this new years mood and felt like so what? why should i be worried about having to perform something new every week and my ideas not being good enough? why am i already putting so much pressure on myself? can't i for once become some silly puddy? haven't i always known what to do? that i could do it bigger, better, more more more? i can see it so clearly sometimes. sometimes i forget, sometimes i remember i've already been doing it all along. i can be allowed to do more. i love to overdo it. i love to make people laugh. i love to be as stupid as i can. i love to forget and reinvent and remember and forget. i want to make it happen. i don't know what else i can do. if not me, then who??

and then and then it falls apart. i don't want to write it now bc writing the first part made me feel better and i want to hold that while i sleep. maybe tomorrow. maybe not. (short version - family is hard.)

Tuesday, December 26, 2017

debacle

i was already anxious about rodent carols but now it's completely bungled. it feels like everything i'm part of goes horribly wrong. like i'm obsessed with collaboration but i'm potentially the element that is always complicating destroying everything. there's almost something clownish about it. like i really really want to make it work but my wanting creates the complication. is it better not to bother? or does goodness come from the effort? i'm not sure which at the moment. but leaning towards the former.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

jumble

let's be real. i have always been a feelings person. my strength comes from my empathetic side.

why has it been so hard for me to find my way ?

some of it i'm blaming on adhd. especially now that my head is more clear and i'm not so depressed i can see patterns better. i focus intensely on something or fixate on an idea for a few days and then move on, for whatever reason. i have not focused long enough to specialize in anything.
it's not only adhd of course but i think that definitely helps with the quickness and the forgetting. what do i do? even i don't know. but it means i'm good at hyperfocusing and concentrating super hard on one specific thing for an extended period of time - and then also being able to shift my focus quickly to something else. some of this maybe is just keen perception. i see all the things. i see the choices that make sense. (in simple logistical situations anyway. other times i'm a dolt.)

the point is.
the point is everything i already know but always forget.
i am a feelings person. i am an art oriented person.
i might be interested in things like sociology and herbal medicine and animal behavior but i have never had the drive to focus on those things long enough to really learn them. could i if i wanted to? sure but then i'd have to actually choose a thing. that is the hardest part.

but when i think about learning something like clown or performance or dance i am just sure i could do it. in terms of my excitement and my confidence i'm all in. it's only REAL WORLD garbage thoughts that crush me. i should be doing the other thing. the real thing.

HOW IS IT that i am still having this thought process even after being brought up on the value of art? how is it that my parents taught me that and yet they scoffed at every nonacademic artistic dream i ever had???? it's driving me bonkers that i'm just now realizing the full weight of this. i feel like other people's folks tend to swing one way or the other, like kat's parents consumed by their research or alice's music teacher folks. mine are some in between with my dad as collector/hobbyist who finally decided to try his hand at writing in his 50s, and my mama hinting at some vague dreams of writing or storytelling or some wisp of a memory of a dream so incomplete it is just dust, but still she's passing it off, urging us to write, to publish, to create, except no don't go to art school bc you need a job.

oh it's just a mess it's a muddle. like the world like all our brains.
and me always in the middle why ??
does everyone feel that they're here?
outside in the middle
not right. not center
caught between options until you're nothing

this must be what everyone feels.
but still for some reason everything is so hard for me. it all takes so much time. i can hardly get anything done. my days disappear. here i am still. driving my parents crazy. no more of a plan than i had in july. where did the time go? everyone tells me i'm doing so well, it's so good to take my time to heal properly, except my mama. why can't she let me do this ?

i'm up too late. at this rate i will want to skip the social shit tomorrow but i guess i'd better not. damn. rot.

Saturday, November 11, 2017

what a mess what a mess what a mess. skipped out on being social again. didn't go to yoga. bligh. just feeling awful. on purpose?? can't be good to stay in and watch sexist tv. starting to feel so stuck so stuck. but also some wild thing in my brain is screaming "it's just that you're a visionary!" that's gotta be it. why i can't seem to find words for any of my thought processes or explain what is wrong with everything to my dad. i come off as "disdainful" mama says. i'm paralyzed by judgment - of myself so i can't do anything and of everything else so it's overwhelming and defeating. how do i kill it ???

i want to make myself a schedule and stick to it, as dorky as that sounds. i really think the ADD hyper focus thing is real.

why is there a car idling in the middle of the road right across from me here on my porch? you are not my uber. you aren't for anyone. sounds like a door slamming and it drives away slow. am i paranoid or ???? maybe less so after the incident with kat a month ago, where in my driveway the man banged on her window and demanded a ride or else he was gonna get shot. my paranoia made me say no. we drove around for half an hour and then she sat and wouldn't leave me until 4am just in case.

my left breast has been hurting bad all day. it's been tender all week. is it just a weird period or something else? googling this shit doesn't help.

i'm pretending again that i'm cutting down with smokes but i'm kidding myself. i have a few good days then some event excuses me.

roll herbal smokes goddammit
work on the papers

lord so many other things on this list i can't remember. where the fuck do the days go ??????

last night i stayed up too late angry and drinking and finally wrote that call out about gratz on halloween. today i had to wake up at 9am bc apparently i'm slow as business at doing anything so midday dog visits on five hours of sleep. i felt hungover and grouchy but i still sang to them. i got home at 1245 intending to nap but i read chris mccoy's write up in the flyer and my energy was restored. spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the wordpress mess i made of the concrete website and whether it's fixable before finally dad stopped it with pizza and netflix. what a grouch i am. but it's still true that steven universe is the only show on tv worth anything. except adventure time. okay.

mama was ridiculous today, probably not on purpose. cracking me up all over the place. my number one clown mentor for sure.

gotta read that clown book
guided mediation and that other body stuff

make a fuxking schedule that includes reading time
i can't stand this nothing nonsense

Sunday, November 15, 2015

don't trust other people with your ideas.
don't trust other people to know better than you about your things.

i would've ordered a new charger, i would've shipped the old one to east wind.
i knew the package would never make it in time, we'd be stuck here waiting or have to leave without it.
we waited an extra day and we're still leaving without it.
so i finally ordered new goddamn gear this morning, which i should've done immediately when i realized my idiot self left the charger in ohio.


if you had told me you shipped the whole thing back to acorn, i could've ordered a new battery as well as a charger. now i'm down to one.
yes it's better than nothing.
yes really there's no one to be mad at but myself.

and then why am i SO upset? what makes me take this SO seriously?
(and yet not serious enough, i could've done so much more.)
((and yet so serious that i build it up and up until i'm too paralyzed to shoot))

3 and a half months after i've started this journey and i feel totally unaccomplished and broken down.
at first i had a lot of ideas for what i wanted to capture, my vision of my role.
you all wanted heads talking with your own ideas regurgitated. nothing new, nothing true.
after i adjusted to the reality, i still had lots of ideas-- what i thought would capture people's attention, funny videos and zines and things.
you all crushed my ideas and i went ahead and finished killing them off.

so where am i now?
i felt so good about what i gathered at the midden. not great, but okay.
i felt so good until alex said "let's do another interview once you've fleshed out your thoughts more."
i felt so good until rejoice asked if i got exterior shots, after we'd left the state, after knowing that they took the house tour without me.
i felt so good until my dumb ass left my battery and charger in the kitchen, right there in the wall, right where someone else plugged it in.
i felt so good when i found mike's phone charger and packed it for him, how thorough i am! (a lie, i felt irritated that dustin had taken his phone and left the charger here, full well knowing this was mike's because he borrowed it, this is part of our party, this comes with us. and even now i feel irritated, surely someone in our crew saw the battery there in the wall, someone knew this thing should not stay in ohio.)
i felt so good when this journey was an adventure, when i had a purpose, how i was alive and living.

where am i now?
i'm so mad at myself about the battery that i'm not present, not engaging, not actively asking questions or trying to learn new people.
and i'm feeling like a grump, irritated by everything, constant frown.
i feel myself faking it trying to let loose and it feels awful.
i hope i don't have to go back on meds.




back on the road, we arrive at Possibility Alliance just in time to catch a tour with a student group from Truman College. we're just a couple minutes late, so a visitor walks us out to a patch of grass where the rest of the group is gathered in a circle, popcorn-sharing the things we want to change about our world.
Ethan wears a red baseball cap and leads animatedly, barely able to keep up with himself and the long strings of ideas he wants to share. some of the kids seem already bored or jaded, or maybe i just can't tell what people are feeling anymore.
it feels good to sit in the grass, in the sun, to watch the cow and feel the eyes of other humble humans who are not (yet) communards, with a whole different kind of jadedness.
as idealistic or radical or "crazy pants" as ethan might be, i'm still drawn into his words, jogging along after the chasing thoughts, i'm feeling this.
"we look at screens more often than we look in each other's eyes. humans spend more than half of their waking hours looking at screens."
i'm wasting my life, it's clear.
ethan is adamant that we shouldn't feel too guilty about our own habits up to this point; that will only lead to more suffering, more pain. self-hate is not the solution.
this is a hard one to remember.
i can feel the others in my party are not so sold. rejoice has gotten this tour speech twice already and dustin's already checked out and "hopeless" (his words, his goal) at 22.
as much as i'm feeling the impact of these stories, of being here, i can't get rid of the nagging consciousnesses of the other side.
it's funny what impressions i have of the different communities before i get there. i guess i thought i wouldn't be interested in this place -- why, exactly? i can't recall now, and i can't remember details, just a vague impression.
maybe because they have a "gift economy" which in Point A world is not as interesting or radical as income-sharing and therefore is null.
maybe because it's just a small farm with one family in the middle of nowhere, missouri.
but being here, maybe it's the college tour, i get the sense that they're engaged on a broader level than most of the other communities i've met. they host quaker meetings, craft nights, work days, straw bale building workshops and permaculture trainings. they just got back from a rally (??) in detroit for water rights.
and they've done all this with ONLY a landline telephone and no other electricity.
so what do we think we're doing???
at every community i visit, i consider living there, if only for a moment. on this day, in light of all this mess, i wonder what my life would be like without electricity, without screens. how important are they and how much do i need them, really?
maybe ethan is a crackpot and an idealist but isn't that what i've always wanted to be too?
he asks us this question i've heard a lot lately-- if you could do anything, be anything, if someone waved a magic wand and you could have your dream, what would it look like?
i never do know.
i think that's a major part of my problem.
it changes on the daily or it floats just beyond me, a shifting shape in the fog.
what would happen if i cut it all out, the distractions and the phoneys and the plastics? would i find any answers?
what if i learned all new arts, what if i learned a whole new way to be myself?

i might want some of my modern things.
i might want a manual typewriter.
i might learn to build creatures and make worlds and take photos on film to tell my stories.
i certainly will need my cat.
i don't know what to do about that.

for that moment when i imagine myself in whichever community, i can be anything, i have a whole beautiful life there for myself.
and every life, in every land, is always different.


i listen so much, it's one of the few things i'm really good at, that i value about myself.
so often i hear you before you've spoken. sometimes i can answer before you've said it -- and then you interrupt me to tell me your thought and it was exactly what i thought. why can't you hear me??


"Pandora was pretty dopey dude, she had pretty simple instructions. just don't open the box! stupid bitch."

make this man stop butchering this song.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

somebody must be fucking with me

had one of those feelings, so checked my "serious" email inbox that i never look at. this message from the center for documentary studies was delivered only 8 minutes ago:
Hello. Hope this finds you well.
Please excuse the brief iPhone email--I'm traveling this week so base of operations is a little sketchy, catch as catch can.
Your letter and resume have risen to top of the pile. We would very much like to interview you for the position.
Are you available for a phone interview in the next week? If the next week, indeed, works. Let me know when you have a chance.
Looking forward to hearing from you.

i've been waiting for weeks to hear back, and now that i have, i'm freaking the fuck out.
is there any possible way i can give a good interview in the state i'm in? how do i explain being unemployed for six months? could it possibly make sense that i've been holding out hope for this, or is the let down gonna be that much worse if i don't get the job? how many other people are at the "top of the pile"? how do i even respond to this email? this is too much for me right now. forever. i don't know how to have anything.

listening to: liz phair - (fire up the) batmobile

Friday, September 21, 2012

crumb + crime

some lines tapped out drunk on my phone and high in my room, in a
matter of minutes over a handful of days--

(i'm sorry, you asked.)


carrying you
the broken doubloon
pockets of deception
full and heavy with treasures
cherished or forgotten

funny how we came together as it fell apart
broken from the start, but now scattered
at least a fourth gone forever
and the other smooth slivers tried to lose
but somehow i never do manage to

how much was i holding in?
how long will it take to wash away
near nine years of constant chemicals?
no one warned me:
waves of unchecked estrogens, enzymes wreak havoc on every piece
of my system and knock me off what little stability i rocky rode,
cysts crunch tight ovaries twisting, wrecked
weeks of white knuckles, eight days of thick black blood
birthmarks bleeding and browner than ever
so sore, so much, so tired, so sad
so so done
get me gone

shedding it all
getting rid
the sticky slickness of newly opened fruit
it pains and pours
cant keep anymore
i feell down

couldnt contain it and split my sense
on the pavement spilt my whisky and my mess
but not a drop for you
and fingers that beckon but do not ask
split sick open wide
spilt self all over
cant contain--
i didnt want to
i disjt mean to
he did not ask to take the fruit

they usually dont


and where did i lose you?
between the unealked streets of our interchange
without negotiating the borders of this new land
under a haze of confusion in the cloud of uncertain substance
so how could i find you?
why shouldnt you float
in and out
to and fro
up and down
i coukdnt ever hope to stay
a mess of indecision
a cobweb tangle heartsore

that heart was whole
in my pocket all along
it missed the chance to sing our song

and now my fruit is rancid, rotten
under wilted odor of noxious lovers
who sucked on my spirits and promptly forgot them
greedy plundered all sweet offers

tasting and taking the higher they climbed
entwined in the dance called the rape of the vine

they took as they tasted the best of my wine
they took me down dancing the rape of the vine


why did i assume it was all in the mix?
that the music would speak where the silence kicks?
that they'd stay to sleep when the fruit was picked?
why i’d rather not ask than take the risk
when at every end i’m trapped and tricked

how hungry did you have to get
to try a night with me?
look past the sagging sacks and
maneuver the tangles to get the fruit
this is no courtly quest
there was no love story


and so pulled out the clot and held in my hands
nine years of clear caught love, spent seed
everything i tried to keep
a ball of blood and mucus down the drain
sent off without ceremony
now what do i do with all this feel?
without a stopper or a net
and now, not even any eyes
dumb and blind and come and cry

and what we saw on the deep dark highway
were roads of stars through layers of heavy trees
all that hanging life and sweetness
and there, ahead, still and silent in the middle of the road
the fawn, the wandering grazer, small shy and calm
not the deer in headlights
not a thing but trust
we slow to let her finish, turn and cross back towards us in the dark
not running
not away

the beauty leaves a bitter taste
i want to scream, to get her gone
don't look at us, don't believe
you can't stay here girl
you won't have time to learn

then
two dead doe
and there it is:
every sister, mother
splayed in center
the white lines
straight through
legs broken
necks cracked
i try, but i cant take it back


now the cat in my lap and the wine in my hand
hurting and working without a plan
i won’t tell you how it really ends
you’ll do your best to understand
but wonder why it’s back again


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,mmmmmm
^this is lucha's contribution
can't say i don't agree
you asked
i'm sorry

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

​why can't i give myself the right to ask? am i afraid of my partners? am i too afraid that i'll upset them by being straight forward and end up hurting myself in the long run? what is this ridiculous dance?​​

Sunday, November 07, 2004

show's over, folks

i'm partly glad to have more free time on my hands, partly relieved that i can forget all these lines, and then i'm partly anxious now that i have nothing to focus my energy on. also nothing to blame my late nights and dead days on... although i'm sure they'll keep happening. they always do. i really need to focus on getting everything done for school and college, and also get working on some new projects. as long as i always have a viewpoint to look forward to, a realistic short term goal, i'll be fine. i hope. it's the unrealistic short term goals that really get to me. i hope that things'll be all sorted out soon. right now i'm just looking ahead to thanksgiving break. i need some time to recharge. i wish for strength to all of us trying to get through a terrifyingly slow year.