breathe, echoing the sound

I just want for you to be here to sit beside me.

I wish for the anxiety to be gone so my chest to relax and the shaking to stop.

I want to be held so the tears will stop and I’ll know its okay. I want the shaking to stop and I want to know its okay.

Today is a blue day.

The lenses in my glasses are blue. Not a dark kind of midnight blue but kind of a prussian blue. Seeing the world this way is very frustrating because I don’t like these glasses. They feel like I can’t take them off and change them out for my pretty pink ones. They feel like I can’t breathe. They make the little things look big and the easy things look hard and they make everything feel personal. The blue glasses put me on the roller coaster that takes me on the vortex ride and I fucking hate the vortex ride. I don’t know who designed that shit but they didn’t know what they were doing.

I try to be quiet and wait for the calm to come.

I try not to think about what I’m not doing and the mess piling up and the arguments I’m picking for no reason and the tears that I can’t stop. I can’t.

What’s to say, what’s to ask, I’ve no answer to give and even I probably don’t even want to hear the reality. So I sit and sniffle and wipe dry my tears and think about all the reasons that brought me here to this blue day. The reasons that matter and the ones that don’t.

Today is a blue day.

I just want for you to be here to sit beside me.

I wish for the anxiety to be gone so my chest to relax and the shaking to stop.

I want to be held so the tears will stop and I’ll know its okay. I want the shaking to stop and I want to know its okay.



welcome to my ride

Your hands are on your head and your mind is racing and you’re wondering ‘what the fuck, what the FUCK!’ What’s next and why am I standing here staring at my bed in tears wondering why I’m in tears. And why, WHY is a magazine from the Sunday New York Times sticking out from under my bed, ‘did I even read that??’ I need to clean up this mess and edit my closet because I have too many articles of clothing that I just don’t wear and shit dude! I’m so fucking sick of this mess. I can’t see the top of may nightstand (who names these things??) and that nasty drawer-thing by my door should just be burned in favor of a nice little table to set my keys on, because jeezis, that looks like something straight out of a dorm room and 18 years later you need to have a bit more class and a lot college chic.

Hands go back to the head… but not before wiping the tears and blaming yourself for the fact that the rest of your house is in a state of disarray, you have no children to blame, no… you are just a lazy slob, despite the fact you are not the only person in the house.

Okay, so maybe your mind isn’t doing this but mine is. well was, a few minutes ago. (did I mention this happened in the span of about 4 minutes?) The cycle continues and is repeats itself. Recognizing it, well, doesn’t stop the fucking cyclone from crashing through my bedroom er psyche, but I protected my shoes, so its okay this time. And it doesn’t just happen over the state of cleanliness in my house. Oh noooo. This is just one little trigger, one lever to shift the car down the track toward the scary loop-d-loop that I certainly didn’t sign up for (did I mention spinning gives me migraines?!?) but… We choose how to deal with the ride we’re on. So I try to remember the rose colored glasses I stashed in my seat pocket (and the meds so conveniently stashed next to them). Now that I know I’m on this ride, recognize it has traps that are trying to make me look like that crazy person who walks around talking to herself with tinfoil on her head, it’s gotten better. On occasion, I can even see the vortex of anxious coming and at least brace myself. Sometimes, I can’t, but it’s always an adventure, if not for me then it is for those close to me.

I am sparing the innocent victims of my blithering mess from having to endure public ridicule, shame or worse, pity for me to tell my story, by giving too many details or focusing on it too often. That’s the point of this really. Its my story, my life, the ride I’m on. Its my bi-polar express, two point oh (they gave me an upgrade, the original didn’t come with the anxiety package and the mania just didn’t match my shoe collection).

So lease keep track of your rose colored glassed and if you find the blinggy ones… those are mine. They fell off during my last spin in the vortex.


Thanks to Becca for Familial Friday which I will be calling Fucksox Friday because I have to give it my own twist… Like posting my first one on Tuesday. Because I lag.

not a resolution

Sitting at the pub while the man read the paper, I wrote what I thought was a decent post for today. I actually put it down on real paper with a pen and everything. But as is par, on my way home I got sidetracked. When I turned on the car and headed back, it took a few to realize there were no sounds coming out. I was deep in thought about a friend of mine and the bull shit she is being forced to deal with right now. So I turned up the volume…

“Just don’t waste all your years
Believing in the fear
You’ll choke out what’s alive and make
What’s wrong be all that’s real

I can see you’re weakened at the seams
And trying to swim upstream but can’t find a way”

It didn’t actually take the whole verse for me to know the song. Hell it didn’t even take more than a couple words. My friends face was flooding tears to my eyes because the whole song was in my head. I had to re start the song.


I’m sure you’ll learn to dance and drink and dream
But you might still feel lost

And I see myself in you my friend
But I would break where you would bend
I’m calling on what you defend and tonight I won’t hold back”

This song has significant meaning to me and honestly got me through some darkness. But hearing it now, all I could think of was my friend and her life. I could see her over the last few months and how the fear and stress has built upon itself layer by layer. I see her fighting in a constant swim upstream to keep what’s most important to her. I thought of how hard she works to prove to some douchenozzle what the rest of us already see, how he fights her and threatens her and uses fear as a tool to manipulate her. Fear is a powerful tool.

“Just don’t waste all your years
Believing in the fear
You’ll choke out what’s alive and make
What’s wrong be all that’s real

I can see you’re weakened at the seams
And trying to swim upstream but can’t find a way

So here we are again trying to hold back
The tides behind our eyes
Lucky ones trying to drink from both the wells we claim are dry
I guess I’ve found some freedom in
Embracing every time they pry

We’re both the same
You’re just like me”

The tears are rolling as I’m trying to sing along, and hit the back button again. I was reminded that I’ve been in this place, I’ve swam in this stream. I’ve been consumed by this fear and it’s sickening. For a moment I felt her pain and was crippled. I was in that moment and remembered my own fear. For a moment we were both the same.

“And when your skin finally sheds
You’ll find your nerves all in shreds
The price may be to keep your heart you’ll lose your head”

For me it took the physical act of shaving my head to keep my heart, to lose my fear (or some of it anyway) and lose my head or analyze less (ain’t gonna lie – not a lot less but I’m trying). I needed the reminded that I did this… I went through the work so that my skin could be shed. I made it out of the stream in one piece. I’m not sure what will happen to my friend. I am not sure of how things will turn out. She is barely at the river’s mouth and there are bears waiting in the water to catch her. What I am sure of is that she is not alone. No one should ever be alone doing battle with people that have evil inside. I know that she is loved and I have bear traps.

Oh, the song is The Odds by the band The Loved Ones…

a new year

my fingers are slurring their words. There have been drinks and sleepless nights and friends in need and drives from one end of the state to the other. Nothing matters except the present moment. Live each present moment wisely and earnestly… That has been my motto for the last 6 or more years.

with music in the back ground is often how I get ideas to start what becomes a thoughtful or rantish post…. whatever the case may be. We all have our favorites, don’t lie, I hear the Eric Carmen blaring from the back bedroom. (turn the radio up for that sweet sound…) And you with the hairbrush, you are not ze greatest singer in ze vorld and neither is celine…

The last week U2 has been non stop on the mindpod. (You know where I’m going with this don’t you?) I am not a fan of the whole Pop-Mart era and I have friends who stopped listening after Rattle and Hum, but there was a bit of redemption with Elevation so I continue to listen. But the classics remain my favorites. Thus a song that was written almost 30 years ago for a new wife while on a vacay in the Caribbean that became an anthem for not only the reunification of Ireland (a constant theme) but for the Polish Solidarity movement as well, is coursing through my mind… my veins.

All is quiet on New Year’s Day.
A world in white gets underway.
I want to be with you, be with you night and day.
Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.
On New Year’s Day.

I prefer it to be a love song and thing that the New Year will start with just that… love. The only thing that will make the any other meaning real, is just that… love.

how about chartreuse?

“May I please have the one as shown through the rose colored glasses???”

“Yes the one with all the flowers and shiny happy people.”

“ No really, that’s the one I want.”

“Yes I realize it isn’t realistic, but I want it anyway.”

“Look, if I wanted your opinion, I’d give it to you. Just give me what I wanted and get out of my face!”

Where the hell are my rose colored glasses??? I seem to have misplaced them and I’d really like them back. I miss myself. The self that looks at things in a positive way and likes everyone, in spite of their obvious flaws. I miss the days where I smiled all the time and wasn’t so tired.

My problem is I know the cause, haven’t fixed it and am still sitting here writing about it rather than making the effort to fix it. The arm-pullers are in full force. I am that person that is torn between loyalty to self and misplaced loyalty to others. I stay at the job where I am under paid and under appreciated because of loyalty. I am a loyal friend. I am a loyal co-worker. I am also trusting in things I shouldn’t be trusting of.

I need to get the fuck out. I need to clean my shit off my computer, take my efforts and my talent and give it to someone who deserves it. I need to realize that my friend must come to terms with his own decision and that I can be supportive of him from the outside. In fact, it may be more supportive of me to be on the outside. I need to show these people what they will never see…. That I deserve better than this. That I am not a median income that the chamber of commerce has on a page. I am a hard working, intelligent, talented human being that has to go home at the end of the day feeling some degree of pride in what I did. I should be proud of where I work…. Not so much. I hate the fact that my day’s efforts will result in hundreds of thousands of dollars in profits and I will net $9.

Off with the rose colored glasses, I’m going shopping for some new ones. Maybe a nice shade of green or grey. Something to compliment my eyes.