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Some positive spin on Mercury Retrograde.  To sum up her long article: “Which makes the truth of the Mercury retrograde matter really quite simple: the trivial frustrations we’re forced to deal with when concealed information comes to our attention always pale in comparison to the intellectual power that becomes available to us whenever it does. Always. ”  So I will take that as part of my current meditations being timely and run with it.


Last night as I was falling asleep, I imagined that I was a potted plant.  Left too long in a too small pot, my roots became bound, knotted and crushed.  Watered both too often and too little at varying times, my leaves flourished and withered, grew stunted and strange.  I was unceremoniously yanked from that pot, with no thought to the injury of my leaves, crushed and broken by gripping hands, no thought to the tearing and breaking of my roots as they stuck to the sides of the old pot.  Eventually I was replanted in a larger, perhaps too large, pot, filled with good, organically rich soil, but yet still watered too much or too little by varying turns and left in burning sunlight and dark corners at random intervals.  Eventually I found myself where I am now: strong enough to bear the elements, water and light, whether too much or too little and only just discovering that I can start reaching my roots out in to better, more nutrient soil.  Only just now realizing what that will mean to the growth and spread of my leaves.

This morning I’ve been thinking too much and I think it’s fair to say that, that as we creep up on May, I have cried every day for two years now.  For every day that I haven’t cried, there’s been another day that I’ve cried twice.  I’m letting all of that go.  Over 700 days, it’s hard to imagine what even kicked off each of those teary instances.  Each one floats away like cherry petals on the wind today.

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“Always be mindful of the kindness and not the faults of others.” ~Buddha

I’m trying harder and harder to heed this advice.  I’m tired of feeling angry and hurt.  Throughout my life I would always rather see the good in people, but right now it seems too much to even try and contemplate the bad, like it will only end in pain for every one.  I mean, not to be all Pollyana Sunshine on you, but let’s all look on the bright side, okay?

I am a silver lining person.  Some times I lose sight of it, or forget to care about clouds at all (the last couple years maybe this has been true) and I certainly can’t snap right back into it.  I was contemplating my positivity the other day and I have to admit that prescription drugs, therapy, moving and a work promotion are all well and good. But truly, despite an occasional left over chill, it’s spring here.  And nothing, nothing, nothing in the world shoots me back into positivity faster than the first cherry blossoms, the first bluebells, the first daffodils.  I want to shout hello to the fuzzy new chartreuse beginning buds on tree branches.  I know, most everyone likes spring, but I truly feel that people born in spring have special relationship with it.  I feel stronger, better and like I can do anything.  I know that will fade in summer heat, and all but sizzle out by the end of fall, but oh! Spring! Spring!  Spring!


So I’m pretty sure the biggest problem with being single is not having easy access to sex. Last night I dreamt I was talking to Princess Bride-era Cary Elwes and he was trying to tell me about all the ladies the “Dread Pirate Roberts” had before he came back and how there should be a movie about his exploits. I suggested that maybe people didn’t want to know that, that they only wanted the great romance of Buttercup and Westley. He offered to show me how he wooed ladies (he was dressed in his slim pirate all black) and pulled me into his lap and tried to kiss me, but my hair was tangled over my face and we both got a mouthful of it.  So I push his back, straightened and pulled back my hair and started kissing him in earnest.

Now, I’m not one to do too much interpretation of my dreams, but seriously? A) this is too easy, I mean:

Westley: I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?
Buttercup: Well… you were dead.
Westley: Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.
Buttercup: I will never doubt again.
Westley: There will never be a need.

Hmmm, what could my brain be on about? And B) I’m almost embarrassed for myself for being so obvious and easy in my dreams.  However, let me just say, I really do wish I was still asleep and kissing a young Cary Elwes.  Also speaking on behalf of my entire generation and the tail ends of thos eon either side of me, I’d like to say that this movie has ruined us all for realistic expectations from our own handsome princess. As we wish, indeed.

 

pee ess – I know you all are reading, why does no one comment here?

Blerg.  Dreaming you’re pregnant is dreaming about change, right? (I’m too lazy to actually look it up.)  Last night I dreamt I was with Hawthorn and I was sick and getting sicker.  I finally told him and he took me to the hospital.  When I got in with the doctor and looked down, my hand was incredibly swollen and misshapen.  She gave me some pills and told me it would fix and it wouldn’t harm the baby.  I stood up and I was six months pregnant.  The doctor sent me off with a nurse to make sure everything was fine with that.  Then I had two of the cutest little babies ever.  They had huge eyes and were very flirty and charming and kept laughing and pulling on my ears while I was trying to nurse them.  I was really sad that I had to give them up for adoption, but there was no other way to deal with it, because I was already pregnant again.  Then I was in Chicago with an old friend and Hawthorn.  We ran into a bunch of people that She and I knew from the west coast who were now in a famous band.  For some reason Hawthorn left  and my friend and I decided to go see the show but the jerky lead singer was trying to make us pay for the tickets which were really expensive.  So we went somewhere else instead but they wouldn’t serve us drinks because I was 6 mos. pregnant. Then we found this 4 year old black kid dressed in gang colors and made some epic trek to return him to a neighborhood we really shouldn’t have been in, all the while discussing the merits of long term jail sentences for weight loss, exercise and quiet space to recover from our lives, vs. actually continuing to live our lives the way they currently are/were.

I woke up really missing my friend and feeling incredibly bloated (as I’d been huge in both dream pregnancies).  I’m not sure I want to even take a stab at interpreting this.  Some of it seems really obvious but much of the dream was dark and creepy in the details and I actually don’t want to think about it too much.

I’ve been thinking a lot about therapy earlier this week. I really do think I am much better.  I was trying to express to my therapist that I’m managing to seal up my pain and move past my anxiety to function well enough, but that I really felt I needed to continue therapy because surely sealing it up was only temporary measure and that in a few months or years or whatever I’d be in the breakdown place again and that’s intolerable.  However I just don’t have the emotional resources yet to be able to deal with directly confronting and trying to pull out what ever the blackness inside me is.  Perhaps once I am settled in the new place, and have a place to safely be.  I’m not sure how clearly I expressed this and it’s been tugging at me.  Because I really do think I need to be in therapy, but I’m definitely having trouble digging down to the rough parts.  And I think it will be hard to push myself to that point.  I’ve been really seriously thinking about my past Buddhist practice and how I can return to that in a less intellectual and more emotional way.  Thinking about mindful living and letting go.  I think that focus of my energy on that will go a long way to keeping the anxiety at bay.  But somehow it seems at odds with digging in pulling out what ever is rooted in my chest that periodically grows and makes me so miserable.  Indeed the entire thing, my entire future life is about balance.  I’ve been meditating on balance and finding in aspects of my life (work vs. personal, planning the future vs. living in the moment, &c.) but I think I need to put a lot more thought toward finding the balance in making myself seem safe and secure and relaxed and working at extinguishing the root cause(s) of what undermines that sense of stability for me periodically.

Also, I think it wasn’t until I started talking about it in therapy that I realized just how traumatized I still am by last year’s flood.  I watched this trailer for a film someone made about it and ended up in tears.  I wonder how many people there are in this city who feel a devastated about the whole thing as I do, who didn’t lose homes or have major property damage and thus think that their post flood trauma isn’t as real or as valid.  I think we all really suffered mentally, even without losing a home it was weeks of living on what the edge of war or apocalypse must feel like: will we still have water, what happens if all the utilities fail, if the infrastructure is gone, how will we manage?  Plus, I can’t be the only one who had a back to back series of other dramas, emotional and physical, happen rapidly after the flood.  Even now as we move toward tornado season, I find I have a smattering of fear about the weather, wondering if those rains will come back.  It seems impossible the encroaching spring could feel so threatening.

Sleep is still uneven.  I think the 5-HTP is helping although I find I’ve been waking up a little before my alarm and feeling restless and not quite awake but unable to go back to sleep.

Work was slow yesterday afternoon so I thought I’d just take a peaking at rental listings in my neighborhood.  GAH! Instead of entertainment I gave myself a full blown panic attack.  Holy shit, ya’ll, I’m going to have to move. Again. And find a place, by myself.  Ack.  I came home, took a Klonopin (whew), turned on the TV and sat down and carefully laid out my income and expenditures for January at www.budgetsimple.com.  I think if I can manage to keep this up for Feb and March, I’ll feel much more in control about this.  Plus, if I can keep it together long enough to stay here through March, touring season will start and many semi-transient musicians will be leaving places I could live (and college students as well, although there aren’t very many of those in my neighborhood).  Then my only concern will be that I don’t own anything to sit on except an office chair.  I can do this.  *deep breaths*  I can do this.  I am glad, however that I didn’t let myself get bullied into moving right away, and that, as annoying as it will be, Hawthorn will let me stay here for a while.  I also have a few things I need to sell.  Not in a desperate kind of way, but things I just really don’t need and might be able to make enough money off of to buy something to sit on when I move.

Why can I not have this house?  I mean sure I’d have to be rich and live in Belgium, but look at it:

click it to see all its gloriousness

 

I did manage to calm myself down a bit but PMS left me feeling lonely, miserable and vulnerable and watching TV wasn’t enough of a distraction.  After a slightly frustrating text exchange, I ended up on the phone with Oak discussing the nature of loneliness, his need to find a job and what he looking for, trying to make him understand the even comparison between my home search and his work search (and his soon impending home search as he’s moving back here in 4 weeks, hence the work search). Oak, like my mother, wants me to move out as soon as possible, though he’s being slightly more understanding about why I won’t.  I suspect they both share the motivation (identified by Wisteria) of wanting to punish Hawthorn, at least financially (Oak at one point in the conversation encouraged me to turn heat up, since Hawthorn pays that bill–ironically I am always turning down the heat the Hawthorn turns up because I am an armchair environmentalist). The call ended with Oak wishing he could make me feel better and me expressing that he had, indeed at least distracted me from sitting around alone feeling sorry for myself.

Last night was the first halved dose of Lexapro.  This morning’s side effects so far seem, well, halved.  I am tempted to taper from half to a quarter and off and go back and ask for something else.  I really am trying to be a positive participant in drug therapy but the fact is I haven’t had a day without some stomach discomfort (from moderate to terrible) or some spaciness or dizziness in over three weeks.  I know most anything will have side effects, but at this point I feel I’d gladly try a third or fourth option that made me sweat too much or made my mouth dry rather than continuing to feel queasy and gross.  The Lexapro was better, since it lacked the outright nausea and shaky hands and all, but still I just don’t feel right.  I will do the halved dose through the weekend, but if I don’t wake up Tuesday morning feeling okay, I’m going right back and starting over, I guess.

I dreamt last night that Hawthorn was a robot and the letter of his name were an acronym for the project he was created under.  When I told him this morning, he laughed and said he could see how I’d think that and then hugged me for a while a kissed the top of my head.  Proving, I guess, Oak’s comment that by staying with Hawthorn and depending on his kindness  have somehow changed my status from girlfriend to favored niece.  Still I imagine the situation could be much worse.

I also had a complicated dream that I can’t quite describe that involved attendance at an over the top wedding a trip over seas to an Asian country to visit Adam from Mythbusters and subsequently marrying him.  And then taking up with Jamie from the show when it didn’t work out and I found myself trapped in a foreign country.  It might be hard to explain why, but this is an obvious Hawthorn/Oak metaphor for me, but in reverse and played out with some message that I probably already know, but don’t want to think about just quite yet.