I wrote this about a dream I had a couple months ago.

Thieves and diamonds. Wood piles scattered in bits like BBQ pork. satan quietly observing moments of sheer chaos, bending to his agenda of filth. We all romance the blackness of life. We must to appreciate anything. We need a bar to measure our happiness against the hollowness of loss and tragedy. Surely this gains us our own brand of perspective. Take comfort in the separation. Find a way to unify the contrast to a shade of brilliant triumph. Make is song your name. 

Fall is for falling

I love autumn. I know everyone seems to but it truly improves my mood and disposition every year when the seasons change. I've been struggling a lot lately. I feel perhaps my life isn't where it should be or where I want it to be. Low points are unavoidable. Trying to learn and analyze them instead of letting them totally bring me down is beyond difficult but I am making an effort to. I think now that it's getting cooler out I'm finally escaping the depths of a depression I haven't hosted in years. I wish I could deal with disappointment and frustration better but I deal the best way I can. Making plans to better yourself can alone improve your state of mind. I'm planing to go back to school and I'm really striving to push myself physically with my excercise regiment. I'm excited. Sometimes you can get lost in complacency and concede to it's sly grip around your neck. I think I almost gave into it but complacency is not for me. I'm starting to see tangible results with my weight lifting which I hadn't before. I am also making real plans to go back to school and get another degree just because I'm not satisfied with my current job situation and I feel I need a new skill set and a new profession. These things excite me. I didn't think I had anything much to look forward to for a while but now I do. It's sad I can so easily slip into negativity and desolation. Unfortunately, it's something I know too well and haunts me far too expertly. The difference now is I long for more. I don't want to feel low although I know some low points are necessary and unavoidable. Every situation is changeable for the most part. You hold the key to your happiness and your path. Make it happen. If I can pull myself from such a bleak outlook and discontent I do believe anyone can. It all lies within your intentions. 

.

 Fuck sleep. It only seems to get in the way of the things you really wanna feel/think/say. Holding back just to hold on to that shred of sanity you think you have left. It just stared raining here and I believe there are no coincidences. Somehow haunted what couldn't have been. Forever unable to shake off my past. My demons. My fate. Is it really that surprising? No. Trying my damnest to ameliorate my past. I know I have made some progress but as always I feel like overall I'm at square one. The difference now is I'm not afraid to fall or to fail. I want to and I will and I have. It never gets easier. It only changes shapes and hues. And intentions. The desire and fire inside never burns out it only intensifies over time. 

Mother challenged.

Surely, the bittersweet, overly tacky, Mother's Day corporate holiday is the proverbial salt in my motherless wounds. However, I did once have a mother and as abrupt as it was, I relish the nurturing and unequivocal love I received. My mother was a goddess. Sure, maybe I put her on a pedestal from nearly 24 years without her, but all I can reflect upon is pure joy and beauty. This humbles ineffably. The bond between a mother and child, especially a mother and daughter, is omnipotent. 

I also was a mother, even though my daughter was only felt in utero and only for a short 7 months before she passed. I did know the feeling. Graciously, I will revel that some may never know even that much and that it's somehow a blessing, even though it also stings. As much as it's challenged me, I also am tremendously thankful for a feeling I can never explain or erase. 

However, I do think that the stenciled out, common banter I see advertised and really, exploited for Mother's Day is rather stale. Yes, I know that most people aren't  good with words but clearly your kids are your 'everything, whole world, light, meaning for life,' etc. I mean, if they aren't you're a shitty parent. I guess I just wish people were more profound instead of spewing off regurgitated, vapid phrases everyone says. Just as I feel about every hallmark infested holiday, you should uplift and honor your loved ones everyday and never get caught up in a psuedo-celebration. 

Yes, I'm bitter. Yes, I'm jaded. Maybe it's not the right way to feel but at least it's honest. I just feel like it's kind of innocuous to celebrate something that often springs from ill-intentions. Being a parent is a hard job, I wouldn't ever dispute that. However, it's not impossible. I do feel living without a mother is much harder but there isn't a holiday for that is there? I don't like people who seek recognition for something they chose to do. Reap what you sow. 

Maybe in the future there will be a time with less praise for mediocrity and more for perseverance and survival. Until then, I urge you to show gratitude to people in your life in a genuine manner, not just when 1-800-flowers tells you to. It's easy to buy flowers or other material possessions to 'show' how much you care. I just think there is so much more to validate and empower your loved ones. They may not be there one day. Do something more. 

The battle.

Chronic insomnia has plauged me for many years. Stupidly, I get on my phone for hours on end when I lay down, which I'm sure adds fuel to my sleepless flame. Dumb. The upside to this is always feeling creative and inspired to write. As I lay here next to my snoring boyfriend and as my cats scury around, I am compelled to write. As much as I strive to be humble, it occurred to me tonight that my life has not been easy.

I'd rather not go into all the sappy details, for some of them are difficult for me to even talk about. The truth is I am exhausted, my energy is depleted. I told myself I could be strong, that I must be strong for myself, my family, my friends. I put a good game face on, denying the severity of the matter at hand. I'm really good at faking it. For a while, I think I had myself, and everyone else, convinced. In a sense, I'm one of strongest people ever. I try brave on once in a while and sometimes it fits me like a glove. The fact is- I'm not always strong. For far too long now, I've denied my pain and my strife. Attempting to avoid the agony I've known over the years and the brutality I've encountered has pushed me to the limit mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm completely spent. My soul is broken. 

I can't explain it. It's virtually impossible and tragically with that comes a level of estrangement that makes it seen that much more bleak. The thing is, I can't and won't feel sorry for myself. That's the prideful habit my father passed along to me. I've done it. I wore it like a dress. When my mother passed away, I milked that crutch of sympathy like a succubus in rapture. How pathetic could I be? It was exponential. I felt everyone should have pity on me because life dealt me a shitty hand. Reflecting back on myself now fills me with shame and regret. I should have been stronger. I should have taken the blow with more grace. There is no right or wrong way to deal with grief. The best way I can describe it is- if someone cut your achilles tendon by surprise. You collapse. Grief buckles you to the ground without warning and most people bellow with intense agony. I bellowed for decades and I licked my wounds so long my scabs turned to infected pulps of embarassment. The sadness I conveyed echos through time like a somber melody I cant forget and I hate myself for it. 

I think once I was around 28 or so I wised up. Yeah, I know thats really old to have a reckoning. However, I'd say having it at 28 is better than being 45 and living in your parents basement, even though it's not far behind in shamefulness. Maybe it was my impending third decade of life that was looming closely in the distance or maybe it was saturns ascension. Who knows. Either way, it was time. The solum sadness I had nursed for decades ran it's course. I was pissed! All the years feeling sorry for myself that accomplished exactly what?! ZERO! Nothing! Not a goddamn thing. What a nightmare! I decided then that I couldn't go on that way and that I had to suck it up and change my sorry ass ways. 

So I did. I stopped with the pity parties. I stopped self loathing because it was just tacky. Fast forward to a little over a year ago when again tragedy struck- I didn't know what the fuck to do. Obviously I was devastated but I desparetly wanted to be strong. I tried. I acted as if. I now see how much I shut off. I pushed all I felt away. It was just too horrible to deal with. I didn't want to feel anything. I just wanted it go away. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Some people probably would have turned to some destructive manner to channel it but I didn't. I tried to drink but it really didn't help. Drugs didn't really do shit. I just tried to forget, as if that was even fathomable. It wasn't and it isn't. 

Here I sit- with a mountain of grief and I feel like I'm at the foot of the gallows, looking upon perhaps the greatest challenge of my life. I feel I haven't really begun to tackle the bulk of it. Sure, I've grieved. I've allowed myself to be consumed with the darkness and let it's ugly truth trickle down. As excrutiatingly painful as it is, somehow I always turn it off. I either get angry with myself for being so weak or it's just too unbearable to feel. I don't know what to do with this hurt I harbor. I feel I'm buried by a burden I am petrified to even speak of. It's frozen in time- a time I replay in my head over and over looking for a solution that would never work. I am lost in the what ifs without dealing with it head on. I ride on the coattails of my own contempt like a melancholy puppet. AlI really know is that this demon has come to battle me and test my will in every way possible. I'm not ready but I will fight. 

Tonight.

I've enjoyed tonight.

- I trained legs then did an hour of hot yoga. [Tomorrow will be my 100th class!]

-  I juiced some lovely greens.

 - I made some banana bread pudding for my boyfriend that was epic. [also my first go at it]

-  I read a bit of 'spin' which I highly recommend if you are a science fiction dweeb like myself. 

-  I drank a few new beers. One local jalapeño beer that was decent although I can't remember the name. Also a Sam Adams beer called 'new world' that had a champagne top. It was delightfully light and Belgium-esque. 

- I also had some interesting conversations with my boyfriend about Pantera's early glam metal band, how accutane makes you suicidal and how the misfits are to tool what a perfect circle is to Danzig. He said it was a bad analogy but I disagree. 

- I watched a few good movies as well: big daddy, dazed and confused and now I'm currently watching the shining with I could watch over and over. 

Sorry for the bland, overly narcissistic post but I'm content [and buzzed] and I wanted to document it. Hope your night was equally as satisfying!

You are perfect.

It's hard to find a balance in life where you are not overly miserable and not overly elated. One motion and you're teetering on the edge of either of those things. I guess it wouldn't be so bad to be overly elated but I can't say I've ever actually felt that. I have but not for an abundant amount of time. The sad reality is I'm unsatisfied with myself currently but the really unsavory part is I haven't been satisfied for a long time. I want to be. I try to fall in love with every moment that I can take a few steps back and be overwhelmed with beauty. Yesterday, I took a drive alone, put the windows down, some spellbinding music on and just took it all in. It was beautiful. I love spring here. It gets amazingly green and there are bountiful wildflowers all over the place on the edge of the freeway and at almost every stoplight you encounter. It's like a fairy tale! I was so deprived of vegetation and scenery for years that it really is awe inspiring to me anymore. It's like discovering it all over again which I truly enjoy. 

I don't know why it's such a struggle for me to find contentment. I'm never happy with myself but I don't know why. I should be. Maybe I don't value myself enough. The other day at yoga my instructor said something that really struck a chord with me. We were laying in Savasana and she said 'notice this feeling and every sensation you feel. Everything you are in this moment is as it was intended. It's perfect and you are perfect.' Such a powerful statement. It's true though. We all seek to be some version of perfection we have gathered in our mind through years of media manipulation and other peoples opinion of what they think we ought to be like. It's just not right. We are all perfect. If you think about the mechanics of life and of the human body, it's sheer brilliance and centuries of science behind it has barely scratched the surface of all we are capeable of and made up of. Fuck aesthetics. Why is it so impossible to obtain contentment? Why can't we be okay with who we are? Why do we always battle ourselves to be something 'better' or 'different'? I, for one, am the worst with this. I always find some flaw to beat myself up over, neglecting the totally awesome things I have to offer [like a rather squandered singing voice most have not heard. Sad.] We are worth more than fitting into our skinny jeans if we eat a few too many cookies. We are worth more than avoiding trips to the grocery store due to a bad skin/hair/body days. We are worth more than avoiding human interaction for fear of being hurt like a little bitch. I'm a serious repeat offender of all aformentioned things and recognizing that seems rather embarrassing and childish. But hey! I guess I am a girl after all! [Dont tell anyone.] But, yeah, you're perfect just the way you are RIGHT NOW. Don't waste the good things because you're clinging to sucky ass shit that doesn't matter. Because, in the end it really doesn't matter. Maybe you're like me and you blow things insanely out of proportion for no god damn reason and then realize later how stupid of you that was. Stop that. Take a drive through the country and get your head on straight. Maybe if I did that constantly I would achieve everlasting contentment but then eventually I would find something to be dissatisfied with. What can I say- I'm a perfect jerk.