I love life on life's terms. I really do.
Today is the seventeenth anniversary of when my dad died. I lost my office keys and was locked out this morning. I couldn't check my email. I taught a class about the "discovery" of the New World and felt white bourgeois guilt at not being able to cover the history of the native civilizations. Then when I got home, my computer crashed.
Luckily, Dan's friends are in the business of saving lives when computers crash, so I called them and they're coming to salvage my hard-drive on Wednesday.
In the afternoon I met Hammer in SoHo. She came with me to the Apple Store. My stomach shot through with pain being there, as it all reminded me too much of Narc, but I bought a computer and it is beautiful. I love it.
Afterwards, Hammer and I ate lunch at a bar/cafe where I once met TT for a date and where Hammer's friend sat and wrote her wedding vows. Hammer helped me carry the computer to a cab, but a bunch of obnoxious girls stole the first cab. Hammer wanted to give them the finger, but sort of chickened out at the last minute.
When I got home, I figured out how to video conference with Hammer and we three-way chatted with the Alaskan and then I had a brief video conference with the Alaskan. I got to show him my enormous Mark Antony poster.
Then I went to my meeting-- a meditation meeting. Everyone was approaching me with hugs and smiles for my upcoming anniversary. When I saw Pilman, I asked him about Brick.
"Have you seen him around?" I asked. "Is he still sober."
"He is," he said.
I can't help but think about Brick these days. Something about that relationship got to me in a really primal way.
So, after meeting with my sponsor briefly, as I walked home, I decided to call him. I remembered that his 90 days were approaching and I left him a message telling him that I am proud of him and can't think of my one year anniversary without thinking of him. Then I went to pick up Chinese food.
Waiting for my order, my phone rang. It was Brick. I hadn't spoken to him in months. It was great to hear his voice. I think I understand now... I understand that he can't be what I wanted him to be and I can't expect it of him. But that doesn't mean that I don't love him. I told him to come to my anniversary watch. He said that he had texted me back when I wrote to him a week or two ago. I never got the text. Ah, the snags in modern communication!
And that's that. I'm going to eat my Chinese food now. And then I'm going to sleep. Perhaps I'll rest a little easier tonight knowing that my father can finally rest in peace. What killed him and what killed his father and what killed probably countless others of my ancestors is not going to kill me. I stopped it. Today was sad and today was glad and today was frustrating and today was happily surprising. It was just life.
A long, long time ago (back in December, '05) I wrote a post about an adventure that NDN and I were seeking one weekend. It prompted a discussion about "adventure" and NDN asked Mr. Mystic what he considered an adventure to be. Mr Mystic replied:
NDN, the simplest way for me to describe my Idea of an Adventure, would be in the dictionary form, “an unusual, exiting, and daring experience. Have I had any? I am in one right now it’s called Life.
I think I finally understand what he means...
love,
h
Monday, May 7, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Cherry Blossom Blue
Today was a full and beautiful day. I slept in (for once!) and then met BigSis for lunch in Madison Square Park. I love that our relationship is changing every day and that we're still getting closer. She said to me the other day that she and I share a closeness that she doesn't have with anyone else in the world. It's because we pretty much grew up as twins.
After that, I went to therapy. It was a rewarding session. He helped me see that a lot of what I've been obsessing about this week has been about distracting myself from the guilt I've been feeling about my upcoming anniversary. "Survivor's Guilt" is what he called it. And it doesn't help that my anniversary is only two days after the anniversary of my dad's death. It's quite a week...
From there I headed downtown to meet Hammer for our third attempt at the cherry blossoms in Brooklyn. Our first try was on Sunday, but we were turned off by the crowds. Our second attempt was on Wednesday, but we were deterred by the gray skies and chilly weather. Today was perfect-- a cherry blossom blue sky and none of the weekend crowds!
The blossoms were absolutely beautiful. We stretched out on the lawn and painted with Hammer's water colors. A chubby blond three year old approached and wanted to play with our paints. He wanted to paint a "blue warthog." Needless to say, the warthog never fully materialized. I named my painting "sakura" in honor of both the blossoms and the creepy Japanese song by the same name that I used to play on the piano. Oh-- and I did manage to get a little work in on my Fourth Step.
Anyway, after that, we were "spit out" of the gardens into some random Brooklyn neighborhood (as Hammer put it). But we managed to find the subway and took it to Atlantic Avenue from where we walked to Juniors for dinner and cheesecake. On the way back to the city Hammer drew me a really funny picture of something inappropriate for the blog (something that we agreed never to mention again!). And from there it was back to her place to bum around and watch Ugly Betty and The Daily Show. I did a little more work on my Fourth Step and Hammer regaled me with stories from previous blog entries.
After that, I headed uptown to celebrate the one year anniversary of my friend BA. When I got to the diner, I felt like I had entered into some sort of dream world. There were so many people there and so much energy. It was hard to switch into that kind of social mode, coming straight out of "self-reflection" and "tv-mode" with Hammer. I sat with LashGirl and made her laugh by singing "Someday My Prince Will Come" with a 1930's warble in my voice. I also hung out with Pixie, Meema and a few others. BA spoke about his experiences this year just before midnight. It was really moving. Everyone smiled at me and said "You're next!" I didn't quite know what to do with the attention. I've been feeling down on myself lately and not really wanting people to look at me.
In any case, I headed home at around 12:15 AM. As I was about to get into the cab, some guy on his bike nearly slammed into the cab door. Then, the cab driver asked me if I thought his cab smelled like urine. I said "no." He said I was a nice girl and asked where my family was from. We ended up getting in a long discussion about how my parents met.
TT had left me a message earlier in the evening that he would be at Cheers. I should have headed straight home (as I don't want to jeopardize my sobriety and I have been having a lot of feelings I don't know how to deal with) but I stopped into Cheers anyway. He was really happy to see me. I really don't understand why he likes me. Maybe I should stop trying to understand. It's flattering, though, that he still does... BarMan was there and told me that he quit drinking for 16 days as a "cleanse" and that he lost 15 lbs. That's a little crazy. ThursdayGirl was there too. PumpedUp was the most happy to see me.
"You're just the girl I've been looking for!" he exclaimed.
"What... why?" I asked.
He asked me if I would be willing to host a little BBQ party for the Cheers staff on my roof. I told him "of course." They needed a nice place outdoors and nearby. PumpedUp has certainly done enough for me over the years that it's my pleasure to do something nice for him.
In any case, at around 1:00, I told TT that I had to head home. I have a women's meeting I want to go to in the morning, and I already feel the insomnia creeping up, certainly not helped by the fact that I've had about 10 diet cokes since 11:00 PM.
But overall, it was a beautiful day. ThursdayGirl smiled when I told her my year was approaching.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
I wanted to say no. I assumed the answer was no. But that's not true. I was happy-ish today... happy in some ways. And being happy in some ways is the same as being sad in some ways. Neither one should be the only way I define myself.
"I am happy," I told her.
"Last time you saw Narc?"
"February 26th."
"And your last drink?"
"May 9th of last year!"
"I'm so proud of you," she smiled.
I'm loathe to say it. I'm really loathe to say it... but I'm proud of me too. I never thought I could do it. But perhaps, this is just the beginning.
love,
h
After that, I went to therapy. It was a rewarding session. He helped me see that a lot of what I've been obsessing about this week has been about distracting myself from the guilt I've been feeling about my upcoming anniversary. "Survivor's Guilt" is what he called it. And it doesn't help that my anniversary is only two days after the anniversary of my dad's death. It's quite a week...
From there I headed downtown to meet Hammer for our third attempt at the cherry blossoms in Brooklyn. Our first try was on Sunday, but we were turned off by the crowds. Our second attempt was on Wednesday, but we were deterred by the gray skies and chilly weather. Today was perfect-- a cherry blossom blue sky and none of the weekend crowds!
The blossoms were absolutely beautiful. We stretched out on the lawn and painted with Hammer's water colors. A chubby blond three year old approached and wanted to play with our paints. He wanted to paint a "blue warthog." Needless to say, the warthog never fully materialized. I named my painting "sakura" in honor of both the blossoms and the creepy Japanese song by the same name that I used to play on the piano. Oh-- and I did manage to get a little work in on my Fourth Step.
Anyway, after that, we were "spit out" of the gardens into some random Brooklyn neighborhood (as Hammer put it). But we managed to find the subway and took it to Atlantic Avenue from where we walked to Juniors for dinner and cheesecake. On the way back to the city Hammer drew me a really funny picture of something inappropriate for the blog (something that we agreed never to mention again!). And from there it was back to her place to bum around and watch Ugly Betty and The Daily Show. I did a little more work on my Fourth Step and Hammer regaled me with stories from previous blog entries.
After that, I headed uptown to celebrate the one year anniversary of my friend BA. When I got to the diner, I felt like I had entered into some sort of dream world. There were so many people there and so much energy. It was hard to switch into that kind of social mode, coming straight out of "self-reflection" and "tv-mode" with Hammer. I sat with LashGirl and made her laugh by singing "Someday My Prince Will Come" with a 1930's warble in my voice. I also hung out with Pixie, Meema and a few others. BA spoke about his experiences this year just before midnight. It was really moving. Everyone smiled at me and said "You're next!" I didn't quite know what to do with the attention. I've been feeling down on myself lately and not really wanting people to look at me.
In any case, I headed home at around 12:15 AM. As I was about to get into the cab, some guy on his bike nearly slammed into the cab door. Then, the cab driver asked me if I thought his cab smelled like urine. I said "no." He said I was a nice girl and asked where my family was from. We ended up getting in a long discussion about how my parents met.
TT had left me a message earlier in the evening that he would be at Cheers. I should have headed straight home (as I don't want to jeopardize my sobriety and I have been having a lot of feelings I don't know how to deal with) but I stopped into Cheers anyway. He was really happy to see me. I really don't understand why he likes me. Maybe I should stop trying to understand. It's flattering, though, that he still does... BarMan was there and told me that he quit drinking for 16 days as a "cleanse" and that he lost 15 lbs. That's a little crazy. ThursdayGirl was there too. PumpedUp was the most happy to see me.
"You're just the girl I've been looking for!" he exclaimed.
"What... why?" I asked.
He asked me if I would be willing to host a little BBQ party for the Cheers staff on my roof. I told him "of course." They needed a nice place outdoors and nearby. PumpedUp has certainly done enough for me over the years that it's my pleasure to do something nice for him.
In any case, at around 1:00, I told TT that I had to head home. I have a women's meeting I want to go to in the morning, and I already feel the insomnia creeping up, certainly not helped by the fact that I've had about 10 diet cokes since 11:00 PM.
But overall, it was a beautiful day. ThursdayGirl smiled when I told her my year was approaching.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
I wanted to say no. I assumed the answer was no. But that's not true. I was happy-ish today... happy in some ways. And being happy in some ways is the same as being sad in some ways. Neither one should be the only way I define myself.
"I am happy," I told her.
"Last time you saw Narc?"
"February 26th."
"And your last drink?"
"May 9th of last year!"
"I'm so proud of you," she smiled.
I'm loathe to say it. I'm really loathe to say it... but I'm proud of me too. I never thought I could do it. But perhaps, this is just the beginning.
love,
h
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Maxima Enim, Patientia Virtus
There is a fierce lightning storm outside right now. I love it when the weather gets intense.
I just read an email from my friend NiS. He's living in Paris right now. He said he's been reading through my "Ghosts of Hyde" blog. I'm glad that he wrote to me. I'm thinking about what he said. And I have a lot of feelings right now... they're all sort of hovering above me and I can't quite make any of them out.
I'm just glad for the lightning.
The blinds are pulled down in my living room, but I can still peek through the bottom of one window and watch the blurred tail-lights of the traffic dripping down second avenue. The cars are darting about, like little neon fish in a tank.
I made a decision to do something today that I think is going to change things. But I can't do it just yet... so I'm not going to talk about it. I need to be patient.
"In God's time, not your time," as my sponsor would say.
"Patience is a virtue."
I'm just grateful for the terrifying thunder.
I have a new fantasy, as I told Hammer the other day-- I want to marry a tattooed timpani player.
love,
h
I just read an email from my friend NiS. He's living in Paris right now. He said he's been reading through my "Ghosts of Hyde" blog. I'm glad that he wrote to me. I'm thinking about what he said. And I have a lot of feelings right now... they're all sort of hovering above me and I can't quite make any of them out.
I'm just glad for the lightning.
The blinds are pulled down in my living room, but I can still peek through the bottom of one window and watch the blurred tail-lights of the traffic dripping down second avenue. The cars are darting about, like little neon fish in a tank.
I made a decision to do something today that I think is going to change things. But I can't do it just yet... so I'm not going to talk about it. I need to be patient.
"In God's time, not your time," as my sponsor would say.
"Patience is a virtue."
I'm just grateful for the terrifying thunder.
I have a new fantasy, as I told Hammer the other day-- I want to marry a tattooed timpani player.
love,
h
Monday, April 30, 2007
"Fading Everything to Black and Blue"
I haven't been blogging as much because I'm very depressed and very busy.
Mystic asks how I've been feeling physically coming up on a year sober... Well, the answer is "better" in a lot of ways, but also worse in a lot of ways, and that's what has gotten me so depressed. I have had a lot of problems with my blood sugar and hormone cycles lately and I've also put on a lot of weight in sobriety. I don't really think the blog is a place in which I'd like to go into the details of my medical situation, but suffice it to say, there are a slew of problems to be solved which have strangely gotten worse with sobriety. I went to the doctor on Thursday afternoon (and they took ten vials of blood from me!!!) and the answers I was looking for were not to be found. I think it yanked me out of denial and put these medical problems into the forefront for me. And then there's that insidious voice telling me that I was "happier" when I was drinking, even though I know that's bullshit.
What can I say? I think I'm just having anniversary jitters. And I miss Narc. And I'm physically out of whack and all of it's causing depression.
What did I do this weekend? On Friday I saw Blades of Glory with B, which was certainly good for a laugh. Later that night, I went out with StarGazer to a birthday dinner at Eatery. It was her friend's birthday. There were three other girls there-- all in their late 20's, all single, all dressed in some cute little "New York-ish" outfit, all thinking they were Carrie Bradshaw or one of the clan. Afterwards, StarGazer and I went to Don't Tell Mama's where PonyTailBoy was performing a "James Bond Cabaret." Don't even ask... it was a strange night. I didn't get home from that until nearly 1:00 AM.
On Saturday, I was stuck in bed depressed for a chunk of the day. I did take the time to call a few newcomers though, and it helped. Then Meema called. She was having a fight with her husband and needed to buy shoes. I am the farthest thing from a "shoe girl" (if I had my choice, I'd be in sneakers with everything), but I agreed to meet her at Aldo on 42nd street. She was there when I got there, strutting around the store in a variety of spiked silver heels. She ended up buying nothing but a little clutch purse. I walked away with a pair of espadrilles.
Later in the afternoon, as I limpidly cleaned off my kitchen counter, NDN sat on my kitchen stool and chatted me up. He had a present for me and a present for Mr. Rochester-- a little yellow chick! Mr. Rochester was very appreciative and rubbed up against NDN's feet.
That night, my home group was hosting a "sober dance." I really, really, REALLY didn't want to go. The only problem? I had already agreed to do service there. So, I was stuck. I was so depressed though, that it took absolutely every ounce of will power I had to get me there. As I approached, I called my mom nearly in tears, telling her I didn't want to go in.
"You have three choices, sweetie," she said. "You can go home and say 'screw the commitment;' you can wait until 10:00 PM when your service commitment starts and leave as soon as it's done; or you can go in right now and trust that your friends are in there and that you'll be okay."
Suffice it to say, I went in. It was okay, but I was happy to get out of there at 11:00. There's probably a lot more I could say about that strange, strange party, but I just don't have it in me right now. I didn't like being in a dimly lit room with throbbing techno music. It was triggering my clubbing memories.
On Sunday morning, I went to watch B get confirmed into the Anglican Church. Drippy was somewhere at the service too, but I didn't see her when I came in. So, I went up to the choir loft to watch the service where I could discreetly write in my journal. I was missing Narc and remembering him and feeling miserable and trying to feel grateful for life and for my life in particular... trying to shut up the suicidal voices which seemed to have returned with a vengeance this week. Here's what I wrote...
I am here, in the left-hand loft of St. Bartholomew's, watching B get confirmed. In the light of this blue-- the roundness... the majesty, I am grateful, but I am also sad. And I'm not sure whether to applaud or berate my heart for its capacity to grieve.
I think of him... His perfect hands, rounded fingernails, tearing cuticles. His posture... arching back. His wrists. I miss him. I miss him desperately and I must continue to tell myself that this is his choice... that this is what he wants. And I can't control everything, nor do I know everything. And then I remember my cheek against his chest. And I can't breathe.
B just got up from his seat and walked to the back of the church. Probably to find Drippy...
My back aches and eyes sting. I am shallow today-- perhaps barred from the darkness to which I'm drawn... descending.
So instead, I "offer myself in obedience to His will"-- to stay shallow, focused, present, "in the moment."
I remember watching him sleep... And Brick too. I won't understand why they both wanted this loss. Not ever.
I must remind myself that I am POWERLESS over others. And it is not my place to understand others.
O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world
have mercy up on us.... The William Walton setting.
O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world,
grant us peace.
Little Lamb, who made thee? William Blake and John Tavener.
I am watching the choir-- rounding their sounds. Shaping sounds with lips (the breath of life). Dissonance. He used to rub his stomach. He probably still does. Thin black cotton. The thickness of his toes through his socks. The mold on the ceiling above the shower. All of it perfect.
And I suppose I should thank God for the gift of love. And I suppose that I should thank God for memory. My heart's capacity is grace alone. I found others-- many others-- who struggle for the same. Love is not a right. Love is a gift.
I DID love him and I DO. And maybe it's not sad that I do...that I always will. Maybe it's a miracle. I don't want to get angry.
Watching the congregation below, they move in a strange and solemn dance... shuffling... one here... two there... These communion rites are almost unthought of. It makes me wonder about the "natural."
"Go. With gladness and singleness of heart," he just said.
Okay... the service ended quickly. Caught me by surprise. So I have to go find B and Drippy for lunch. And perhaps with Hammer to see the cherry blossoms later...
love,
h
And that was that...
Lunch with B and Drippy wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. When I first greeted them and asked "how they are," B shot her a look as if to say "you better be nice, like I told you to!" It was weird...
We walked over to the Heartland Brewery at Times Square for lunch. A strange choice, if you ask me, but they wanted to check it out as a possible locale for their rehearsal dinner. Lunch was nice... Drippy was excited to see Roger Federer on the TV screen above the bar area. I ate a buffalo chicken salad. From there, I headed to meet Hammer for the Cherry Blossom Festival at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.
Hammer was having one of those days in which nothing was working out according to plan. The Festival was no different. There were throngs of people there. It was really quite annoying. As we're both grad students, Sunday isn't our only day for leisure and I forget that most of the general public has to limit their blossom-reveling to the weekends. After a 45 minute wait on line for the bathroom, we agreed to return to the gardens on Wednesday for a more peaceful chance to take it all in.
I ended the night with an AA meeting, grading papers and a few phone calls in bed-- a long talk with StarGazer and then a long chat with Liu! It was long overdue. I ended up pouring out a lot to her in terms of my depression, etc. and it felt really good to have the ear of an old friend.
Anyway, that's it for now. I just finished teaching for the morning. I'm going to go home and shower and then do some paperwork for school and do a little work on my Fourth Step. Still charging ahead with that one.
One day at a time, Hyde... One day at a time!
love,
h
Mystic asks how I've been feeling physically coming up on a year sober... Well, the answer is "better" in a lot of ways, but also worse in a lot of ways, and that's what has gotten me so depressed. I have had a lot of problems with my blood sugar and hormone cycles lately and I've also put on a lot of weight in sobriety. I don't really think the blog is a place in which I'd like to go into the details of my medical situation, but suffice it to say, there are a slew of problems to be solved which have strangely gotten worse with sobriety. I went to the doctor on Thursday afternoon (and they took ten vials of blood from me!!!) and the answers I was looking for were not to be found. I think it yanked me out of denial and put these medical problems into the forefront for me. And then there's that insidious voice telling me that I was "happier" when I was drinking, even though I know that's bullshit.
What can I say? I think I'm just having anniversary jitters. And I miss Narc. And I'm physically out of whack and all of it's causing depression.
What did I do this weekend? On Friday I saw Blades of Glory with B, which was certainly good for a laugh. Later that night, I went out with StarGazer to a birthday dinner at Eatery. It was her friend's birthday. There were three other girls there-- all in their late 20's, all single, all dressed in some cute little "New York-ish" outfit, all thinking they were Carrie Bradshaw or one of the clan. Afterwards, StarGazer and I went to Don't Tell Mama's where PonyTailBoy was performing a "James Bond Cabaret." Don't even ask... it was a strange night. I didn't get home from that until nearly 1:00 AM.
On Saturday, I was stuck in bed depressed for a chunk of the day. I did take the time to call a few newcomers though, and it helped. Then Meema called. She was having a fight with her husband and needed to buy shoes. I am the farthest thing from a "shoe girl" (if I had my choice, I'd be in sneakers with everything), but I agreed to meet her at Aldo on 42nd street. She was there when I got there, strutting around the store in a variety of spiked silver heels. She ended up buying nothing but a little clutch purse. I walked away with a pair of espadrilles.
Later in the afternoon, as I limpidly cleaned off my kitchen counter, NDN sat on my kitchen stool and chatted me up. He had a present for me and a present for Mr. Rochester-- a little yellow chick! Mr. Rochester was very appreciative and rubbed up against NDN's feet.
That night, my home group was hosting a "sober dance." I really, really, REALLY didn't want to go. The only problem? I had already agreed to do service there. So, I was stuck. I was so depressed though, that it took absolutely every ounce of will power I had to get me there. As I approached, I called my mom nearly in tears, telling her I didn't want to go in.
"You have three choices, sweetie," she said. "You can go home and say 'screw the commitment;' you can wait until 10:00 PM when your service commitment starts and leave as soon as it's done; or you can go in right now and trust that your friends are in there and that you'll be okay."
Suffice it to say, I went in. It was okay, but I was happy to get out of there at 11:00. There's probably a lot more I could say about that strange, strange party, but I just don't have it in me right now. I didn't like being in a dimly lit room with throbbing techno music. It was triggering my clubbing memories.
On Sunday morning, I went to watch B get confirmed into the Anglican Church. Drippy was somewhere at the service too, but I didn't see her when I came in. So, I went up to the choir loft to watch the service where I could discreetly write in my journal. I was missing Narc and remembering him and feeling miserable and trying to feel grateful for life and for my life in particular... trying to shut up the suicidal voices which seemed to have returned with a vengeance this week. Here's what I wrote...
I am here, in the left-hand loft of St. Bartholomew's, watching B get confirmed. In the light of this blue-- the roundness... the majesty, I am grateful, but I am also sad. And I'm not sure whether to applaud or berate my heart for its capacity to grieve.
I think of him... His perfect hands, rounded fingernails, tearing cuticles. His posture... arching back. His wrists. I miss him. I miss him desperately and I must continue to tell myself that this is his choice... that this is what he wants. And I can't control everything, nor do I know everything. And then I remember my cheek against his chest. And I can't breathe.
B just got up from his seat and walked to the back of the church. Probably to find Drippy...
My back aches and eyes sting. I am shallow today-- perhaps barred from the darkness to which I'm drawn... descending.
So instead, I "offer myself in obedience to His will"-- to stay shallow, focused, present, "in the moment."
I remember watching him sleep... And Brick too. I won't understand why they both wanted this loss. Not ever.
I must remind myself that I am POWERLESS over others. And it is not my place to understand others.
O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world
have mercy up on us.... The William Walton setting.
O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world,
grant us peace.
Little Lamb, who made thee? William Blake and John Tavener.
I am watching the choir-- rounding their sounds. Shaping sounds with lips (the breath of life). Dissonance. He used to rub his stomach. He probably still does. Thin black cotton. The thickness of his toes through his socks. The mold on the ceiling above the shower. All of it perfect.
And I suppose I should thank God for the gift of love. And I suppose that I should thank God for memory. My heart's capacity is grace alone. I found others-- many others-- who struggle for the same. Love is not a right. Love is a gift.
I DID love him and I DO. And maybe it's not sad that I do...that I always will. Maybe it's a miracle. I don't want to get angry.
Watching the congregation below, they move in a strange and solemn dance... shuffling... one here... two there... These communion rites are almost unthought of. It makes me wonder about the "natural."
"Go. With gladness and singleness of heart," he just said.
Okay... the service ended quickly. Caught me by surprise. So I have to go find B and Drippy for lunch. And perhaps with Hammer to see the cherry blossoms later...
love,
h
And that was that...
Lunch with B and Drippy wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. When I first greeted them and asked "how they are," B shot her a look as if to say "you better be nice, like I told you to!" It was weird...
We walked over to the Heartland Brewery at Times Square for lunch. A strange choice, if you ask me, but they wanted to check it out as a possible locale for their rehearsal dinner. Lunch was nice... Drippy was excited to see Roger Federer on the TV screen above the bar area. I ate a buffalo chicken salad. From there, I headed to meet Hammer for the Cherry Blossom Festival at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.
Hammer was having one of those days in which nothing was working out according to plan. The Festival was no different. There were throngs of people there. It was really quite annoying. As we're both grad students, Sunday isn't our only day for leisure and I forget that most of the general public has to limit their blossom-reveling to the weekends. After a 45 minute wait on line for the bathroom, we agreed to return to the gardens on Wednesday for a more peaceful chance to take it all in.
I ended the night with an AA meeting, grading papers and a few phone calls in bed-- a long talk with StarGazer and then a long chat with Liu! It was long overdue. I ended up pouring out a lot to her in terms of my depression, etc. and it felt really good to have the ear of an old friend.
Anyway, that's it for now. I just finished teaching for the morning. I'm going to go home and shower and then do some paperwork for school and do a little work on my Fourth Step. Still charging ahead with that one.
One day at a time, Hyde... One day at a time!
love,
h
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Text Destruction
Last night I had a dream about Brick. I dreamed that I had texted him an apology. It was so real that I almost believed it all happened when I woke up. In my dream, Brick and I were at a house in the mountains. We were wearing special snow-shoes and skating around at some sort of park. When I woke up, I checked my cell phone. I had texted him after all. It's weird... I don't really remember doing it.
Have been thinking of you the past few days, I wrote. Wanted to say sorry if I was harsh last time we txtd. And sorry if I put pressure on you or made you feel guilty. I hope that you're doing well and are happy and sober.
I don't know why I wrote to him. It made me feel better though. I now have a sense of closure. I think that's what I'm looking for right now-- closure, closure and more closure!
CLOSURE!
I also heard from Narc yesterday. Texts about the lovely afternoon (the weather was divine.)
I asked what he had been up to.
The work, of course. It never ends! Selling our reality show, he wrote.
Wow! To whom? I asked. And PS: Am I ever going to talk to you again? Wanna get coffee sometime?
Have been thinking of you the past few days, I wrote. Wanted to say sorry if I was harsh last time we txtd. And sorry if I put pressure on you or made you feel guilty. I hope that you're doing well and are happy and sober.
I don't know why I wrote to him. It made me feel better though. I now have a sense of closure. I think that's what I'm looking for right now-- closure, closure and more closure!
CLOSURE!
I also heard from Narc yesterday. Texts about the lovely afternoon (the weather was divine.)
I asked what he had been up to.
The work, of course. It never ends! Selling our reality show, he wrote.
Wow! To whom? I asked. And PS: Am I ever going to talk to you again? Wanna get coffee sometime?
What am I doing??? you may be asking yourselves. I'm not quite sure. I don't really want to see him. I do want to move on. Sort of... I can't continue on in this strange state of ambivalence. Either we are going to try to be "friends" or I need to cut off the possibility (in my mind) of a reunion or even a conversation. I need to close the door completely or move with him in a more positive direction. I can't leave it as is-- the door slightly open for whenever he wants to peek through via text.
It doesn't matter either way, though... I am not in control. He wrote me back:
Have to keep mum on the reality show as we're almost about to close, but will let you know how it goes. Slammed with work now, but will get together one day soon.
My response:
Good luck with the show! As for meeting up (or talking), we haven't spoken in two months. Kind of hard to do a friendship that way. But wishing you the best... PS: In 2 weeks I will have one year sober and you will be 31. Yay!
He didn't write back right away to that one. And so, I dutifully went to therapy. When I got out, there was one last message awaiting me:
Work has been crazy, making up for five years of staring at my navel...! See you at some point for sure though.
I didn't respond. After all, there is nothing to say. I think that if I need closure, I'm going to have to find it on my own. He is trying to keep me on a shelf. He's certainly not going to help me do what I need to do...
Anyway, I've had a really rough week. I was sick for most of the weekend and have been overworked this week to the extreme. Yesterday I left my house at 7:30 AM and didn't get home until 9:30 PM. In that time, I taught a class, went to therapy, skimmed a few books and wrote a short paper, got Pinkberry with Bezoukhoff, went to my Modern Britain class and then staggered home. I was wiped! Little did I know, more aggravation awaited me.
I had agreed to fill in for a friend and chair a meeting at a mental institution (set for this afternoon). I have done this commitment for her once before and the last time, I wasn't responsible to find a speaker for the meeting. This time, she mentioned that I should find the speaker. I started asking around last week, but couldn't find anyone. I called my friend, in distress, about this on Sunday and she told me that it wouldn't be a problem-- that I could just ask K on Tuesday night and that she would find someone for me. This was all happening while I was sick-- feverish, aching back and sore throat. Anyway, I found K on Tuesday and told her I didn't have anyone. She said she would get back to me and never did. I called her and left her a message yesterday afternoon. When I got home from class last night, falling over with exhaustion, I found an email from K with ten names and numbers to call to see if anyone could speak. It was nearly 10:00 PM! I thought I would burst into tears.
I called K and complained about the way this whole thing was handled, and started dialing down the list. Nobody could make it. It took an hour and a half and a slew of embarrassing phone calls to find someone. I'm really pissed off and I'm not going to take this commitment again. I just can't handle the stress.
I spoke to my mom about it though (and probably vented a lot of it on her, unfairly), and she reminded me that it is a service and a good deed and that even though it caused me aggravation, it is bringing life and health into the lives of others. She's right, so I tried to reconcile myself with that.
I'm still cranky, though, because today is another mega-long day. I just taught two classes. At 1:30 I have to go to Midtown to chair this meeting. Then at 3:30 I have a doctor's appointment, and tonight I have my regular meeting.
To top it all off, I'm still racing to the finish with my fourth step.
Alright. That's enough complaining for now. I need to go focus on something positive because writing this post has made me feel worse and not better. What I have to do is not what I want to do. The things I want to control are not in my control. I still think of him every day. How many times? Who knows... And I am overwhelmed with the end of the semester. The amount of work I have to do? It's not possible for me to do it. I'm not capable of finishing. And so I have to try to accept less than perfect-- do what I can. I don't like that. I want my all or nothing! It's so much more comfortable.
And I am overwhelmed with trying to be an integrated person. How much easier was it when I could compartmentalize? When I'm with Narc, I am Narc. When I'm writing a paper, I'm a writing machine. That's how I lived. Now I'm "Hyde" all the time and it's a lot harder to manage.
How am I supposed to pull off the tricks? The miracles?
I'm out of tricks...
love,
h
Monday, April 23, 2007
To Make a Long Story Short...
I haven't posted in nearly a week! Maybe it's because I'm sick. Maybe it's because I've been busy... In any case, I'd figure I'd try to write something today...
I never told you about that "date" with TT, did I? I met him after class last Wednesday at the new pub where IrishBird is working. A few of the regulars from Cheers were there-- Manwich, the bouncer, Shay and her sister, etc. Anyway, we ate dinner, sang a few tunes (it was karaoke night) and I decided to take off at around 11:00.
All throughout the dinner, TT was doing little things, like brushing up against my leg, but overall, it wasn't bad. Then he walked me to get a cab. The conversation was as stiff and awkward as ever and as we stood there, staring down Sixth Avenue, the wind in our eyes, not a cab was in sight. We waited... awkwardly... awkwardly... and then he broke the silence.
"I think the universe is trying to send me a message," he said.
"Oh? What's that?"
"That I should kiss you."
He leaned down and did just that.
I wasn't quite sure what to do, as I didn't want to kiss him, nor did I want to repel him. So, I was moderately pliable. Afterwards, I didn't say anything. I think that made the "awkwardness" even worse, so he tried to fix it up by kissing me again, but that did nothing to improve the situation. I again didn't say anything, instead peering forward into the traffic scanning for a cab.
"I didn't mean to maul you," he stammered apologetically.
"Oh, not at all!" I laughed. "I could have fended you off if it was 'mauling.'"
He laughed, but as if he didn't want to. Again, neither of us said another word. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Maybe I'll take the bus," I suggested. "It's not a long walk from here to 42nd."
"Okay," he agreed.
It was good to have something to do-- walking towards a goal.
TT was carrying a bag from "Midtown Comics."
"What's in the bag?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
The answer was two comic book figurines and two comic magazines. He showed me the figurines.
"This Superman looks kind of mad," I said.
"Yeah, he's an evil futuristic superman," he explained.
"So.... comic magazines?" I continued. "Are those comic books themselves, or are they magazines about comic books?"
(As you can see, the conversation was like pulling teeth!)
"No, they're actual comics!" he pulled them from the bag to show me. I feigned interest.
When we got to the bus stop, there were a few little old ladies standing about, clasping theater programs-- we were near the theater district and the evening shows must have just let out. The only problem? No bus in sight.
We waited and waited and waited.
"Why is it so hard to get home tonight?" I finally exclaimed in frustration. "Maybe I'll just walk."
"We've only been here seven minutes," he said.
"Really? I don't know why it seems like so much longer. Probably because I'm so tired. Yeah-- sorry I'm being cranky. I'm just really tired."
"Awww... that's okay," he said. "If you need to rest, you can rest on me."
He put his arm around me and pulled my head onto his chest. TT is about 6'4" so it was height appropriate. I was really tired. And it did feel good to be resting on someones chest. But, then I started to think... there were the voices again.
Hyde!?!, They were calling. Why are you standing on 42nd Street with your head on some man's chest?!?! And what about Narc?
Ugh! I just wanted to get home. I peeled myself out of his embrace and nervously looked for the bus once more. I think he could tell I was growing tense. He pulled me back onto his chest. I closed my eyes again.
"Wait-- over there!" his voice was a sharp intrusion-- a moment of reason, penetrating through my detached and spinning thoughts.
"What?"
"A cab! On the other side."
"I don't think we can get it," I said. "I'll just walk."
"No! We can! Take my hand."
I grabbed onto TT's hand as if we were Jack and Rose on the sinking Titanic and he made a mad rush into the crosstown traffic, pulling me along behind him until we arrived, breathlessly at the door of the cab heading (of course) the wrong way into the night.
TT put me in the cab. He tried to hastily grab one last kiss, which didn't really work, and I was off.
And that was that.
And that night I missed Narc more than ever.
Anyway... as for the rest of the week?
On Thursday I had a special treat in the afternoon-- GoldenFinch was going to be in the city with her husband and BabyBird! I told her that NiS was in town, so the whole bunch of us (plus Anxious) met up near Columbia at Cafe Pertutti. And I have to say-- I have a new love in my life-- BabyBird! He is the most beautiful, perfect baby ever. I love him!!! It was a little surreal to be back up in that neighborhood all together. I really felt the weight of how much time has passed.
From there I rushed off to AA. I was happy to see Meema because I had a present for her-- a silver and gold hand-made pendant that I got her for her anniversary. After AA, I went out with a few of the ladies to celebrate LashGirl's six-month anniversary. I was still feeling insecure about what StarGazer had told me about the previous weekend (that a lot of the girls were gossiping) but that night, I talked to StarGazer on the phone and she assured me that it had nothing to do with me. Phew!
That night, I started to feel run down. My back was aching and I was exhausted beyond belief. So, it was home and to bed with a new episode of Ugly Betty. (By the way-- my sister won't get over the fact that I once said that I loved Betty and Daniel's relationship. "Now I know why you have problems with men!" she keeps telling me.)
Friday was a particularly busy day. I met StarGazer for coffee at noon and we went to a midtown meeting. Afterwards I had to rush off to therapy. Even though I didn't manage to bring up my discomfort with the hypnosis stuff from the previous week, it was a good session. From there, I headed immediately to my voice lesson. I enjoyed the lesson, but not as much as I usually do, as my low energy was clear and holding my body in place to sing felt like a bit of a strain.
After that, I went home to pretty myself for a big event-- Meema's one year anniversary watch! My home group has a tradition of meeting the night before each member's one year anniversary to "watch" that person bring in the year. We always meet at the same diner and it's from 9:00 PM - midnight. I couldn't believe it was time for Meema's year already!!!
I got there right around 9:00. She had saved me a seat next to her husband. Talis was there, of course, which was a little uncomfortable for me. But I just hung out with my friends there-- Cherubino, Lana, LashGirl, StarGazer, Slope, Civyl and a whole slew of others I haven't named. The biggest treat for me, though, was that Bartelby came! I don't know if you guys remember him-- he was in group therapy with me last summer in the outpatient program. He seemed to be doing really well.
At 10 minutes to midnight, Meema got to give a speech about where she was a year ago and about the journey that she's been on this past year. She took a moment to say thank you to me and she went on about what a good friend that I've been to her and what she has learned from me this year, etc. It was so moving that I started to cry. Any tension that was there between me and Talis dissolved at that moment too, because she was able to see how much I care about Meema. It was an incredible night. I am so proud of her.
Saturday was kind of a lousy day for me (nice use of WWI slang, I must say) because it was the first day that I felt really sick. I overslept past the women's meeting that I like to go to, and I spent most of the day feeling terrible, slathering my aching back with bengay and popping Advil and Drixoral like there's no tomorrow. (Okay-- I wasn't that haphazard about it. I took it as indicated.) But I really didn't do much with the day, instead saving all my strength for the evening... Hammer and I had plans to go see Turandot!
From the first chords that came crashing down, my blood ran faster. I forgot how much I love that opera! I had swapped my usual matinee tickets for these, so we were seated in a box-- room for four, but we were the only two there! It was nice to be able to stretch out (and eat our salmon and chocolate in private!).
Hammer was telling me all about Archie and Betty and Veronica and about the Alaskan's musings on the subject-- a perfect introduction to Turandot with its opposing man-eating ice princess and docile slave girl. I had a lot of thoughts on all of that at the time, but lack the energy to articulate them right now... After the opera, we ventured down towards what had once been "Wizard territory" and enjoyed some more conversation at Starbucks.
And then, on Sunday, it was home to Long Island for my stepbrother's birthday party. He'll be 20 on Wednesday and my parents invited his friends (from before the accident), his "girlfriend," my stepfather's family and my relatives on my mom's side and Bro-in-Law's family over for an outdoor picnic lunch. Even though I was feeling sick, I had a good time. It was nice to be around little kids, it was nice to be outside (I know-- I can't believe I just said that either) and best of all, it was nice to see my stepbrother looking happy.
But by the end of the day, I was wiped. I came home, ate Chinese food and went to bed by 9:00 PM. This morning I woke up, taught, came back home by 10:00 AM and went back to bed until 2:00 PM. I'm feeling pretty miserable and can't do much of anything except lay around. Hopefully it will pass soon.
So... that's it for now. I'll try to write more frequently!
lots of love,
h
PS: Mystic-- I haven't had a chance yet to go searching for that music, but I promise I will. :)
I never told you about that "date" with TT, did I? I met him after class last Wednesday at the new pub where IrishBird is working. A few of the regulars from Cheers were there-- Manwich, the bouncer, Shay and her sister, etc. Anyway, we ate dinner, sang a few tunes (it was karaoke night) and I decided to take off at around 11:00.
All throughout the dinner, TT was doing little things, like brushing up against my leg, but overall, it wasn't bad. Then he walked me to get a cab. The conversation was as stiff and awkward as ever and as we stood there, staring down Sixth Avenue, the wind in our eyes, not a cab was in sight. We waited... awkwardly... awkwardly... and then he broke the silence.
"I think the universe is trying to send me a message," he said.
"Oh? What's that?"
"That I should kiss you."
He leaned down and did just that.
I wasn't quite sure what to do, as I didn't want to kiss him, nor did I want to repel him. So, I was moderately pliable. Afterwards, I didn't say anything. I think that made the "awkwardness" even worse, so he tried to fix it up by kissing me again, but that did nothing to improve the situation. I again didn't say anything, instead peering forward into the traffic scanning for a cab.
"I didn't mean to maul you," he stammered apologetically.
"Oh, not at all!" I laughed. "I could have fended you off if it was 'mauling.'"
He laughed, but as if he didn't want to. Again, neither of us said another word. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Maybe I'll take the bus," I suggested. "It's not a long walk from here to 42nd."
"Okay," he agreed.
It was good to have something to do-- walking towards a goal.
TT was carrying a bag from "Midtown Comics."
"What's in the bag?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
The answer was two comic book figurines and two comic magazines. He showed me the figurines.
"This Superman looks kind of mad," I said.
"Yeah, he's an evil futuristic superman," he explained.
"So.... comic magazines?" I continued. "Are those comic books themselves, or are they magazines about comic books?"
(As you can see, the conversation was like pulling teeth!)
"No, they're actual comics!" he pulled them from the bag to show me. I feigned interest.
When we got to the bus stop, there were a few little old ladies standing about, clasping theater programs-- we were near the theater district and the evening shows must have just let out. The only problem? No bus in sight.
We waited and waited and waited.
"Why is it so hard to get home tonight?" I finally exclaimed in frustration. "Maybe I'll just walk."
"We've only been here seven minutes," he said.
"Really? I don't know why it seems like so much longer. Probably because I'm so tired. Yeah-- sorry I'm being cranky. I'm just really tired."
"Awww... that's okay," he said. "If you need to rest, you can rest on me."
He put his arm around me and pulled my head onto his chest. TT is about 6'4" so it was height appropriate. I was really tired. And it did feel good to be resting on someones chest. But, then I started to think... there were the voices again.
Hyde!?!, They were calling. Why are you standing on 42nd Street with your head on some man's chest?!?! And what about Narc?
Ugh! I just wanted to get home. I peeled myself out of his embrace and nervously looked for the bus once more. I think he could tell I was growing tense. He pulled me back onto his chest. I closed my eyes again.
"Wait-- over there!" his voice was a sharp intrusion-- a moment of reason, penetrating through my detached and spinning thoughts.
"What?"
"A cab! On the other side."
"I don't think we can get it," I said. "I'll just walk."
"No! We can! Take my hand."
I grabbed onto TT's hand as if we were Jack and Rose on the sinking Titanic and he made a mad rush into the crosstown traffic, pulling me along behind him until we arrived, breathlessly at the door of the cab heading (of course) the wrong way into the night.
TT put me in the cab. He tried to hastily grab one last kiss, which didn't really work, and I was off.
And that was that.
And that night I missed Narc more than ever.
Anyway... as for the rest of the week?
On Thursday I had a special treat in the afternoon-- GoldenFinch was going to be in the city with her husband and BabyBird! I told her that NiS was in town, so the whole bunch of us (plus Anxious) met up near Columbia at Cafe Pertutti. And I have to say-- I have a new love in my life-- BabyBird! He is the most beautiful, perfect baby ever. I love him!!! It was a little surreal to be back up in that neighborhood all together. I really felt the weight of how much time has passed.
From there I rushed off to AA. I was happy to see Meema because I had a present for her-- a silver and gold hand-made pendant that I got her for her anniversary. After AA, I went out with a few of the ladies to celebrate LashGirl's six-month anniversary. I was still feeling insecure about what StarGazer had told me about the previous weekend (that a lot of the girls were gossiping) but that night, I talked to StarGazer on the phone and she assured me that it had nothing to do with me. Phew!
That night, I started to feel run down. My back was aching and I was exhausted beyond belief. So, it was home and to bed with a new episode of Ugly Betty. (By the way-- my sister won't get over the fact that I once said that I loved Betty and Daniel's relationship. "Now I know why you have problems with men!" she keeps telling me.)
Friday was a particularly busy day. I met StarGazer for coffee at noon and we went to a midtown meeting. Afterwards I had to rush off to therapy. Even though I didn't manage to bring up my discomfort with the hypnosis stuff from the previous week, it was a good session. From there, I headed immediately to my voice lesson. I enjoyed the lesson, but not as much as I usually do, as my low energy was clear and holding my body in place to sing felt like a bit of a strain.
After that, I went home to pretty myself for a big event-- Meema's one year anniversary watch! My home group has a tradition of meeting the night before each member's one year anniversary to "watch" that person bring in the year. We always meet at the same diner and it's from 9:00 PM - midnight. I couldn't believe it was time for Meema's year already!!!
I got there right around 9:00. She had saved me a seat next to her husband. Talis was there, of course, which was a little uncomfortable for me. But I just hung out with my friends there-- Cherubino, Lana, LashGirl, StarGazer, Slope, Civyl and a whole slew of others I haven't named. The biggest treat for me, though, was that Bartelby came! I don't know if you guys remember him-- he was in group therapy with me last summer in the outpatient program. He seemed to be doing really well.
At 10 minutes to midnight, Meema got to give a speech about where she was a year ago and about the journey that she's been on this past year. She took a moment to say thank you to me and she went on about what a good friend that I've been to her and what she has learned from me this year, etc. It was so moving that I started to cry. Any tension that was there between me and Talis dissolved at that moment too, because she was able to see how much I care about Meema. It was an incredible night. I am so proud of her.
Saturday was kind of a lousy day for me (nice use of WWI slang, I must say) because it was the first day that I felt really sick. I overslept past the women's meeting that I like to go to, and I spent most of the day feeling terrible, slathering my aching back with bengay and popping Advil and Drixoral like there's no tomorrow. (Okay-- I wasn't that haphazard about it. I took it as indicated.) But I really didn't do much with the day, instead saving all my strength for the evening... Hammer and I had plans to go see Turandot!
From the first chords that came crashing down, my blood ran faster. I forgot how much I love that opera! I had swapped my usual matinee tickets for these, so we were seated in a box-- room for four, but we were the only two there! It was nice to be able to stretch out (and eat our salmon and chocolate in private!).
Hammer was telling me all about Archie and Betty and Veronica and about the Alaskan's musings on the subject-- a perfect introduction to Turandot with its opposing man-eating ice princess and docile slave girl. I had a lot of thoughts on all of that at the time, but lack the energy to articulate them right now... After the opera, we ventured down towards what had once been "Wizard territory" and enjoyed some more conversation at Starbucks.
And then, on Sunday, it was home to Long Island for my stepbrother's birthday party. He'll be 20 on Wednesday and my parents invited his friends (from before the accident), his "girlfriend," my stepfather's family and my relatives on my mom's side and Bro-in-Law's family over for an outdoor picnic lunch. Even though I was feeling sick, I had a good time. It was nice to be around little kids, it was nice to be outside (I know-- I can't believe I just said that either) and best of all, it was nice to see my stepbrother looking happy.
But by the end of the day, I was wiped. I came home, ate Chinese food and went to bed by 9:00 PM. This morning I woke up, taught, came back home by 10:00 AM and went back to bed until 2:00 PM. I'm feeling pretty miserable and can't do much of anything except lay around. Hopefully it will pass soon.
So... that's it for now. I'll try to write more frequently!
lots of love,
h
PS: Mystic-- I haven't had a chance yet to go searching for that music, but I promise I will. :)
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
The Theater of the Absurd
I hate to say it even more than I hate to think it, but I really miss him and I really love him. I found myself doodling his name in my notebook during class today, instead of paying attention to the history of the British tax system. (British taxes are a little more interesting than it sounds and no-- I'm not 13 years old).
I also had an exceedingly awkward date with TT tonight (are we dating?). I just spent half an hour recounting it to Hammer in all of its terrible detail and she said that I "have to blog it." I'll give it a go tomorrow...
That's it for now. I want to go to bed before I go crazy. Because tonight my heart is not my own. Tonight, I don't belong to myself.
love,
h
I also had an exceedingly awkward date with TT tonight (are we dating?). I just spent half an hour recounting it to Hammer in all of its terrible detail and she said that I "have to blog it." I'll give it a go tomorrow...
That's it for now. I want to go to bed before I go crazy. Because tonight my heart is not my own. Tonight, I don't belong to myself.
love,
h
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