Sunday, July 27, 2014

Day Three And My Head Is Still Pounding

The human body is a miracle and a wonder.  It gives you little signs when something is wrong with it, or with you.  Goose pimples when you are cold, or scared.  A nagging feeling in your gut when you are hungry, or know you or someone is doing something wrong.  That alertness of the hair on the back of your neck when you are being watched.  Not to mention the thousands of symptoms we get before a major illness strikes, like a heart attack or a brain tumor or cancer.

I think there are two kinds of people in this world where their bodies are concerned.  Ones that take those warnings seriously and those that shrug them off and continue on their merry way.  I've lost some great people to death because they ignored a symptom too long, or knew something was going to happen but got in the car anyway.

Sometimes we make a decision and it's the wrong one and our bodies rebel, with depression, or anxiety or it can even shatter and the fragile mind and become something unrecognizable to not only the owner but their loved ones.

I tend to notice the symptoms my body gives me and continue on my merry way.  I've made some really bad choices ignoring my own internal 'Red Flag' system.  I'm also one of those people that will tell you to run to the doctor, but I have to be forced to go.  And it's not because I don't respect doctors or think they can help me.  It is because I can't afford it, and I hate hospitals.  I'm afraid I will go in and never come out.

Three days ago I started to get a headache.  Little stress headache over my left eye.  Wouldn't be the first time, nor the last that I got one of these.  Then two days ago Mr. Practical and I had a huge fight, and we are not the same even after apologizing.  And my headache got a lot worse.  Felt better after using some natural oils, then not.  Felt a little better after taking some over the counter headache pills, then not.  Felt better while I was drinking last night at Second Daughter's birthday party, (Out until 3am, two different Chicago bars, one was full of free arcade games and pinball- the other a lot of singing!  A lot!) And this morning not.  Now I know you are thinking, hangover.  But I only had four drinks in 8 hours.  Thats not a lot for me, although I will admit I'm out of practice and this doesn't feel like only a hangover.

Oh and lets don't ignore the fact that for a split second last night, I lost my balance and fell to the ground, leaving my left leg looking like a skateboard road rash. Same side as the headache's original starting point, it's all across my forehead to both temples now.   Knee all scratched up and my lower leg has a heck of a bruise with abrasions on it as well.  NICE.  First Daughter wants to go to IHop and while my stomach agrees, the rest of my body is laughing at me.  Part of me wants to run to the doctor, and the other part thinks it has more to do with stress.   Part of me can hear my loved ones over my casket saying, "Why didn't she go to the doctor sooner?"  The other part can see that if I just get rid of the things in my life that are stressful, I'll be ok again.  Red Flag.  I know I should have left Mr. Charisma much sooner than I did...than we did.  I have felt both sorry for us and hopeful for us, and even happy for our individual journeys for me and Mr. Hopeful.  And now I'm faced with the possibility of having to discuss with Mr. Practical a final parting of the ways or burning of bridges, and it makes my headache worse to think about it.  And my gut?  Well it's calm, resolved, as is my mind.  My heart is the slow one to get with the program.  But it usually is.  My heart apparently needs a brick building to fall on it.  Or a final straw.

I had more to say, but my memory lately has been like someone who is thirty years older.  I blame my meds.  There is that Red Flag again.  But I'm continuing on my not so merry way.


Sunday, July 20, 2014

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

What motivates you?

Serious question time.  Really.  What motivates you?  I used to think it was money.  That I'd do just about any boring job I really hated to support my family.  That got me out of bed every morning and made it worth doing.  To get a paycheck that barely covered our bills, if it covered our bills.  Over ten years ago I filled for bankruptcy.  And I've been up and down since then.  Life.  You learn how to live it on the run.  And unlike all the movies, or music or video games I love there is no pause button to freeze frame a moment in time until you are ready for it.  How great would that be?  Almost like a time machine.

They say (yes, them again, I know, they say a lot).  But they say, that everything happens for a reason and things come to you when you are ready to accept them.  That may be true.  It also may be false.  It may be that your life is your hell.  That we live it on earth.  (they say that too).  It could be that you get what you give.  WOW.  I hope that's both true and not true, for none of us are safe from bad karma.  And then there are the ones that don't think this life matters much at all and have their eyes set on some 'after life'  as if all the suffering will be rewarded once they are dead and buried and forgotten.

What motivates you?

Some daydream of a hopeful future with an impossible person?  That used to be me too.  I used to get bitter at the waiting around for Mr. Right.  The testing to see if Mr. So and So was Mr. Right, and being wrong.  But at least I tried.  At least back in the day, I put myself out there.  Now, I write.  Now I don't put myself out there.  Because now the only men that seem interested in me are unavailable.  You could say, that I only feel safe with married men, because I don't want anymore failed relationships and a married man will leave me alone.  RIGHT.  Married men are the worst.  Take it from me.  They tell you all sorts of things that are wrong with their wives, and marriages but they don't leave.  They run back for many reasons.  Depends on the man and his situations.  What kills me is they are all very different, but this one thing rings true with all of the ones I've met and had relationships with.  They want something from their wives they aren't getting and the wives either don't know they want it, or refuse to give them, so they find it from another woman.  But the part that really sucks is that the women don't know or if they do, they don't care.  And they still go back to them.  The wives feel that their husbands would never cheat on them.  That sure, the marriage isn't perfect but what marriage is?  Or the ever popular and the one I could never understand because I hate sharing, is, well, let him have his fun, it's only sex.  ONLY SEX!  WOW.  If that were true.  There would never be any loss or heartbreak.  But it's not only sex.  It is so intimate.  So revealing.  I know things about them that I bet their own wives don't know.  And they should.  But sometimes its scary to talk to someone you love that much.  Someone you are really afraid to lose.  See, they aren't really afraid to lose me, and they aren't talking about me, so it's easy to tell me what's wrong.  And easy for me to fix it.  Temporarily, because they don't stay.

So after three failed marriages, I can say no marriage is perfect.  But after three failed marriages I know what NOT to do.  And I know what both partners should do.  After being a mistress, twice and a shameless flirt more times than I want to admit, I've changed.  Now I feel boring.  But its not that.  No I still love sex and the men that can bring it.  Its just that THAT kind of attention is not what motivates me anymore.  And as much as I miss it and as good as it can be, the more I'm without it the more I find that I don't need it.  Want it yes, need it no.

What motivates you?

Still haven't answered it.  I guess the most interesting people I've met are over 40 and still don't know what they want to be when they grow up.  Like me.  What motivates me?  Every day.  Every single day is a new day to try to be the best you.  The best person you can be.  So that when you try to sleep at night you can sleep instead of think.  Every single day could be the day that changed your entire life.  So get up.  Do what you want with your life.  Even if it's just sitting in bed and writing.  But do something.  Create something.  Or someone.  Kids are nice.  Messy, but nice.  But don't create a kid in hopes that they will save you.  They will change you, and you will save them.  But they won't save you.  So if you need saving, don't have kids.  Raise yourself first.  Love yourself first.  Before you try to love anyone else, accept who you are.  And like yourself.  I promise you if you don't you cannot like or love anyone else.  I've seen it happen.   I've seen loving men grow to hate themselves and get depressed.  I've seen happy people become bitter at the life they have instead of being thankful that they are aware.  ALIVE.  That's the real motivation.  You ARE.


Sunday, July 13, 2014

Fight Night America!

Had a great time last night at the Fight Night America show.  I haven't gotten to see Second Daughter perform in a play since she was in college.  Her costuming is great and theatre companies tend to take advantage of a good costumer when one comes along, but last night I got to see her act again.  And it was wonderful.  Fight Night goes on here in Chicago twice a year, and it's a group of eight ten minute plays all original works written by local artists. And performed by their theatre companies.  Second Daughters company, Strange Loop (follow link) has a picture up of her that is much better than the one I took.  (she's the one sitting down)  Anyway, theirs was the only serious fight play in all eight and believe me after the show my cheeks were hurting from all the laughter.  Every play is a ten minute fight scene, and if necessary complete with blood.  As actors they get to opportunity to fine tune their stage fighting skills and learn how to make blood packs.  Lots and lots of blood packs.

After the shows, as tradition would have it, we hung out at the bar downstairs from the theatre, with all the actors and writers and directors from the evening.  And of course the audience which was full of more actors and writers and directors.  Second Daughter made me a surprise birthday cake, since my birthday is tomorrow, and brought it with her.  She unveiled it at the after party, and a great many new friends were made around the cake.  To get a piece they only had to wish me a happy birthday.  Fun!  And full of surprises.  One director/writer came up and I found out his birthday is the same as mine, only about 25 years later.  LOL  And we toasted Bastille Day together being the only people in the room intimate with the date.  Another of the actors actually sang happy birthday to me in Polish for his piece.  He was the first one too. Very original and very gay.  I talked to a lot gay guys last night and that's always fun and then there was one, very not gay, that I actually allowed to talk to me.  I found the needle in the haystack!  He was nice, unattached, and we broke the ice with a piece of birthday cake.  And then he actually helped explain to people as they came up that all they had to do was wish me a happy birthday and get a piece of cake.  Nice.  Eventually as the cake was depleted by hungry actors, I think Polish Guys actor partner from the scene had three, we discussed the coming zombie apocalypse.  He approves of my crow bar weapon and admits he needs more guns before he can come to my island on my boat.  Of course we decided the next time we see each other to discuss it more and that we were sure if the zombies attacked before then, we would run into each others crew and be able to say, "I knew you'd make it."

As much as I'm making light of this encounter it is important in its own right.  For a few good reasons.  1.  This guy seemed single, no woman on his arm, and I was not afraid to talk to him.  2.  I didn't just sit and watch the room, I tried to talk to strangers.  3.  It felt good to be accepted and not judged by anyone in the room.  (well accept the girls that looked longingly at the cake, like it was Johnny Depp, but couldn't either swallow their pride and wish another woman a happy birthday, OR couldn't risk their diets...Youth is wasted on the young.)

Since Second Son is off work today, he and Second Daughter and First Daughter are taking me out to eat at a French restaurant for my birthday and perhaps drinks after.  I don't expect it to be as late an evening, since we got in at 3 am this morning, but you never know.  Let Birthday week begin!  I miss my fellow cancers in Wisconsin this week and next as I'm sure the birthday month will continue there without me, but you all are in my thoughts with fond memories of birthday's past that we shared.  Believe me if I could get there I would.

So as Pink would say, Raise Your Glass, and celebrate with me another year gone, and another on the horizon.  Oh and don't forget the cake.


Sunday, July 6, 2014

Don't Believe Everything You Think

Ever get CGB or SBB? (Crazy Girl Brain, or Stupid Boy Brain, for you new readers out there).  Well, I do.  And I've decided it's a real disorder.  Like agoraphobia or some other phobia.  But the best way I can explain CGB, and I can only explain CGB because I'm a girl, I assume Stupid Boy Brain works in reverse as all things masculine seem reversed to me.  But with CGB, I get a thought, and it crosses my mind...a lot.  Back and forth, criss-crossing until it has a mind of its own.  A direction, that usually points to the negative scale of my emotions.  It's actually too bad I can't have happy CGB, but I guess then it wouldn't be crazy.

And the thoughts compile, with reasons that seem logical, and explanations where I have none, to fill in the gaps of reason.  I know what you're thinking....I'm a girl and I can't think logically or with reason.  HA!  Well, ok...I'll help perpetuate that myth.  To me, they seem reasonable conclusions.  And in the past, I have not listened to my CGB, because I think its crazy.  I also have a really accurate 'gut reaction'.  But guess what?  I don't listen to it either.  Because usually it tells me to NOT do what I want to do.

Go figure.

I wonder who wins in that scenario?

Right.  So.  This dangerous combination of seeing the red flags and ignoring them, is probably my fatal flaw.  One which can make me both endearing and sexy,  and infuriatingly hard to deal with.  I have a knack for creating my own drama.  And so do you.  We ALL do.  We also all create our own fates.  Yep.  That's right.  We do what we want to do, even if we know it's wrong, or will hurt someone, even ourselves.  Because in the end, we are true to ourselves.

But that still doesn't mean you should believe everything you think.  Sometimes what you are thinking is the wrong thing.  The worst thing for you.  Even if it feels good.  Even if it seems right.  Even if it's easy.  The best things in life are worth fighting for, and believing in.  I know what I'm fighting for, and I know what I believe in.  And I know the choices I've made in my life don't make my life easier.  But they are my choices.

And in the end, even if I believe that I'm alone and will always remain this way, maybe its for my own good.  Maybe its because I don't want to hurt anyone again like I've hurt people in the past.  Maybe I deserve this.  Maybe I'll learn to be happy like this, and stop wishing that I had that one special man by my side to share my thoughts with.  Maybe I'll learn to really like my own company enough to know that I'm wasting my life dreaming and hoping.  Or maybe I'll just fade away, like a memory to all those who once thought they knew me.

Or maybe I should stop thinking.

Thinking is the thing I do too much of anyway...over think.  Do you do that too?  Then you have it.  CGB, or SBB.  It's a self sacrificing sort of feeling.  That instead of being happy, being who you are you become who society thinks you should be.  OH that's a dangerous trap.  Society won't take care of you when you are old and weak and tired.  Society won't hold you on a lonely night, or talk you down from the ledge.  Society won't listen to your broken heart and share in your successes.

That's one thing I've really stopped doing.  Being what society thinks I should be at my age.  I get one life.  This one.  And I'm making it as happy as I can.  And if it doesn't fit in with what you think a 'normal' person should be or do, well...that's not my fault.  Thats yours.

See, lots of thinking going on.  Lots of directions.  At least I'm writing.  Up to chapter 10 in the second draft my novel now.  Waiting for feedback from Mr. Practical.  Missing Mr. Hopeful and Mr. Practical and thinking that maybe I should just disappear.  It would make everything so much easier for them.

But, don't believe everything you think....