Truer words were never said.

Oh, Life, you sly bastard

"I've been in dire straits before, but this is crazy. Thank God for modern medicine: if wasn't for the drugs, I'd be having the full-blown panic attack I've been keeping at bay the last three days."

Scratch that. 

That was yesterday. 

Shit's cool now.

Why do I doubt that there are forces - including my own often-forgotten tenacity - helping me get to the end of my journey? One day, I'm going to remember right off the hop that every thing I need will provided to me in time. That way, when I'm struggling financially (because, let's face it, it will keep on happening until I learn to handle my money), emotionally (yay, hormones!) and spiritually (seriously, what is my purpose?),  I'll be able to reflect on how the Universe has never yet let me down, thereby negating stress and dismay before it even happens.

Easier said than done? Not really, I just have to accept what is and deal with it as it comes. After all, things are only as bad as I make them out to be. So if I stop looking at these bumps as problems, they cease to be problems. They simply become another lesson learned on my journey.

Also, it helps to have a mom who, although lacking in affection and other such "mom-skills", always has and continues to take of her kids when they need it. 

I totally knew I wasn't going to have to live off of half a bag of frozen peas until the 15th... 

The Journey

This long weekend, I made it up to Canmore to spend the holiday with Cuppy-Cake and her family. It was great to get away and spend time with an incredible group of people, and the mountains are like my recharging station. Some times, I don't even know that I need a trip until I get there, and once I do, a sense of peace settles over me, like all is right with my world.

As I noted in an earlier post, I have been feeling lately as though I have lost sight of who I am, or supposed to be. I believe I can attribute a lot of this struggle with depression to my slight identity crisis. But by chance I found myself this weekend at a little second-hand bookstore in a basement in Canmore. 

Cuppy had been raving about this little treasure for weeks: it's one of her favorite places in the world and as an avid reader myself, I thought I would enjoy it, too. Only, out of the hundreds of books there, I couldn't find a single thing I wanted to read. I looked and looked, I poked in the dark recesses and saw plenty of things that seemed interesting but nothing that shouted "Buy me! You need me!". It left me feeling very dejected - I never have bad luck finding something to bring home from a book store. Finally, once all the rest of the company had made their purchases and we were getting ready to leave the store, my hand fell onto a book by one of my favorite authors, one that I hadn't had the opportunity to read yet. I scrabbled it up and immersed myself into the book as soon we got back to our suite.

If I was feeling like I had lost my way before, it was nothing compared to how I began to feel reading this book. It was a tale of the authors personal journey of self-discovery and every word I read made me realize just how far from myself that I have strayed the last few years. It was both a shock and a blessing. A shock because I had no idea it had been happening - and certainly not for that long - and a blessing because I know it's never too late to make changes. And this book presented its self to me as a sign to do just that.

Once upon a time, I was a deeply spiritual person. The magic and mystery of the universe was always at the forefront of my mind. I prayed often and looked to signs to help guide me. I also had a very real idea of where I wanted my path to lead me. I knew I wanted to do things that would make a difference in the world, change lives and help guide me to my highest and best self. And throughout all of this, I was deeply at peace. 

I see now, more clearly than ever, that I have changed - I've become almost unrecognizable to myself. The old me would never have questioned the idea of being visited in dreams by a departed friend. She wouldn't   have let days go by (let alone years) without stopping and wondering at the beauty to be found every where. And she certainly would never have doubted that Universe was working with her and for her in order for her to reach her highest potential. 

Some where along the way, I lost that part of me. I moved and met new friends. I took a job where I never thought I'd find myself (but, hey, bills have too be paid). I met a man that knew nothing of spirituality other than what he had been taught in church. Now, I work a job with no meaning aside from getting other peoples paper work done in a timely fashion. I've stopped drawing. I stopped sitting under trees and contemplating  on what it was to be part of something so huge and feeling that, despite my smallness, I was an important piece to the big puzzle. And most importantly, I find myself cut off the world I knew and loved and I feel separated and often horribly alone. 

I think back to a brief but poignant conversation I had three years ago with my boss - the one from the store where we sold overpriced clothes produced in third world countries. I was trying to explain to this boss what a "hippie" I had been in Calgary. I used to pray, and have bonfires with singing and dancing. I'd paint murals of mandalas on the walls my friends houses and make wooden jewelry with my sister. I had been a vegan, and even did the raw food thing s for while. I worked at a holistic clinic where they not only treated the body with things like massage and acupuncture, but they treated the soul, too, with reiki and psychic guidance. 

At the end of my story, my boss, this woman with an elegantly put-together outfit and lips painted my favorite shade black cherry, leans back and laughs. She shakes her head, almost knowingly and sais "And then you traded it all in for makeup and pretty clothes, and lived happily ever after." At the time I laughed it off. After all, what did she know? But I should have seen right away that what she said was becoming true, and I should have made it stop right then and there.

The journey home from my trip this weekend was a wonderful time of contemplating on all the things I used to, and touching on new and ever more fantastic things to consider. The beauty of the mountains, the way the elements work together was much deeper than I had ever realized, the connectivity I feel to certain people as though we had been placed before each other for some greater reason than just to say "Hi" in passing. 

I have changed and now something needs to happen in order for me to find my way back to me. I need to find what it is help me to get to my higher self. I must have missed a lot of signs attempting to show me what was happening and how to get back on my path. I only hope I still have the eyes to see these sign

I have to sleep and pray that that something will become clearer for me in the new day.

A day.

I can't believe it's nearing the end of the month again! Time is just slipping by too fast - sometimes it's a blessing. 

I felt great today, and even when I though I came close to slipping and plummeting into the Chasm of Funk, I managed to snap out of it right quick. Without feeling shitty for having been brought low in the first place, which I'm so happy I was able to. I am pleased with my progress. 

I've been trying out mindfulness meditation lately. I can honestly say that up till Sunday night, I had never had success with meditation of any kind. How does any one shut their brains up when there is so much to think/worry about? But I guess that's the point, shutting it up. It was the oddest, but most pleasant sensation, this being simply in the "now". Not beating myself up over mistakes I made yesterday, or worrying about what mistakes I may make tomorrow. It was bliss, really. The only thing I can liken it to is sex (passionate, not obligatory), because those are probably the only times I've ever been able to completely focus on nothing but the moment I'm living. Well, and maybe singing a song I can really put my soul into (I like that I can channel the emotion the song evokes without having to think about what made me feel that way).

On that note, I'm hoping to add something new to my routine. If I can find it online, I want to meet people who want to make music. Nothing serious, just as a release. I can sing -well, I like the sound of my voice though few others have heard it, I get compliments - I can and pick up songs well enough on the piano. If I can't find anyone to pay with for fun, and if I can swing it financially, I might try taking up lessons. I've had this brand-new and untouched guitar sitting in my living room since July...

Things I was grateful for today:

• great hugs
• busy work day
• an engrossing book
• coming home to flowers

Another Win!

I had the most marvelous conversation with Elle today! I got such good input and came away with something that I think will really help with the whole cycle of self-loathing. I think that there's a part of me that always knew this, but the pattern of feeling unworthy and less-than has stopped me from really believing it:

The fact of the matter is that, despite the depression, I am great. There's nothing about me that makes me less worthy of good things happening to me than any one else out there - something I get to show the world all the time. I may be fickle, and often I am too honest for some people to handle. Every body's got their flaws, right? But you'd be hard-pressed to find some one who cares more and loves harder than me. I may not have much, but I'd give it all up to help a friend, and that's pretty special. I know that I greatly value that quality in others, so shouldn't value it myself as well? 

And it's not a boastful thing to say, by any means! I know that after years, a lifetime really, of feeling like I was not good enough it's hard to say things like this without sounding conceited. But I'm trying it out and finding it's not so bad. And unlike my previous posts where I was simply stating positive mantras in the hopes that I would feel better soon, this time I truly believe it. 

I'm not cured or any thing like that, but I have another tool to help me win at life and that's a start!

The Unintentional Masochist (That's Me! *ting*)

What is it with our love/hate relationship with pain and drama? Are we, the unbalanced, in such need of extremes in order to feel anything at all that we find ourselves making obviously poor choices? Or are we so desperate to feel good that we'll risk our precarious hearts for the briefest moment of happiness? We see these choices being presented to us, and still we seem to go out of our way to fuck things up.

Example (in which Logical Me and Emotional Self have another conversation in my head):

Emotional Self: "Oh, this feels good... like, really good! How can I get more of this?"

Logical Me: "Um, we've definitely been here before. Don't you think you should consider all the possible outcomes before something bad happens? Again? There is a huge potential for pain right here."

ES: "Fuck that - I'm having fun! Besides, maybe fifteenth time's the charm!"

LM: "Yeeeeah, I would really take a moment to step back and think here."

ES: "Nah, it's probs all going to work out for the best. LOL, you worry too much! It's all about positive intention, baby!"

LM: "And pain in T minus 4... 3... 2... 1..."

ES: "OWWWWMYGOD! WHY DID YOU LET ME DO THAT?"

And Logical Me just crosses her arms and shakes her head as she tells Emotional Self "I fucking told you so."

On the other hand, I can't help but think that if I take too much time to consider the possible outcomes, I may let great opportunities slip right by. This renders the epiphany I had about going after your desires basically invalid. I might be miserable if I don't go after what I desire, and might likewise be miserable if what I desire doesn't pan out. Hmmm. This is quite a dilemma. A cyclical, maddening dilemma....

But also occurs to me that this dilemma may well be the mysterious and elusive formula I've been seeking so long. The key to becoming a real-live adult (or at least a functioning human being):

I have to be both cautious enough to pick the right desires and brave enough to chase them. I have to get my heart and mind in sync, to work together for the greater good of "Me".

BOOM. Mind blown.

Now, how the fuck do I do it?

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you the benefit of the doubt."

Even though I what I want most out every situation is honesty, I wonder: is being blissfully unaware of the truth the better option? Because the truth fucking hurts some times.

Last night, I had another appointment with my therapist, Elle. We always start these sessions in the hopes of sticking to a game plan, but more often than not, we veer right off course. I’m thinking it’s because the more I discuss the things going wrong in  my life, or just in my head, the more little tid-bits I discover to learn and grow from. It’s never going to be as simple as “I have mommy issues, let’s fix that.” I’m a Russian nesting doll, and every new layer I pry open I find some new repressed issue to deal with.

Most of the time, I come away from these sessions feeling like I've been given a map and now that I know where such-and-such negative thought comes from, I can find the root and squash it. But last night, in our disjointed conversation, Elle dropped a truth bomb on me that hit home. Worse than her telling me this nugget of wisdom, was realizing that I might have known it all along, and I simply didn't want to acknowledge it.

I don't know if I can properly describe what I'm thinking, and I probably don't have the strength emotionally to delve too deep (the night is still young, and I'd like to try and enjoy myself) But this truth bomb was this: Maybe the reason I am so accommodating to people is not just that it's a distraction. Maybe, Elle tells me, it so I can buy their affection. And you'll notice I use the word "affection" and not love or respect. I know there are plenty of people around me who love and respect me, and they do so because they think I am good person, or a funny one, smart or caring. Some of these people know me to be all of the above, and I am secure in that knowledge. But affection? That's different. Maybe I think "If I show this person how much I care and how dedicated I am, he is bound to reciprocate." 

Then comes the real kicker: on top of wanting so badly to be the helper, I am much too trusting for my own good. I give every one the benefit of the doubt, and the majority of the time, a person will be able to sniff that out in me and use me for every thing I've got - be it my money, shelter, time, energy or affection. Maybe it's just my trusting side, but I genuinely don't believe these people mean wrong by me. They just know that they can get what they need and take what I happily offer up.

Elle called this an “epiphany”. I called it “kicking a girl in the box when she’s down”.

Further, Elle tells me that "normal" people simply don't give every one the benefit of the doubt. Normal people don't let their unemployed friends move in with them on nothing but a promise of getting rent soon... ish or sleep with their friends on the vague hint of a relationship one day. I didn't know that! I really had no idea how trusting I actually was, because in all honesty, I feel like I was becoming pretty damned cynical. Seems like there's actually a long way to go to get to cynical.

It goes against what feels right, but maybe Elle has a point. Perhaps I should be more selective in terms of who I choose to trust and give pieces of myself to. 

(And I was totally right: that was emotionally exhausting.)

Waking up on the right side of the bed is nice.

Last night, I had a strange – but nice - dream. In my dream, I was in my apartment sitting at my kitchen table, and in walks “D”. I’ll mention that Roomie and my sis were a couple for as long as “D” and I were together, so whenever Sis and I  made trips to see each other,  we'd all go out like a double date situation. I liked that Roomie and “D” got on so well: We all had it in our heads that were going to be a big happy family one day. So in my dream, Roomie had invited him over for a visit. Normally this would have pissed me off as we did not part on good terms, but I was oddly at peace with the whole situation. We sat and had a brief chat to catch up. He told me about his new girlfriend and how things were going. I was surprised to learn that it was not great. This new girl didn’t like a lot of things about him, most especially that he was bald, so he had stopped shaving his head. It may have been a dream, but I can tell you that the awful hair was exactly how it would have looked if he let what was left of it grow back.

Were I awake, I’m sure I would have felt smug to see how he suffered while I flourished.  Instead, I remember looking at him in a new light, a sad one. It made me unhappy to know that this girl was trying to change him. He and I may not have been good for each other, but we are each perfect for someone out there. We tried to change each other in small ways to make us fit together better, but in the end it was no use. I was not happy with the dulled-down person I had become and he couldn’t dream of filling the expectations I had in a partner. In my dream I would have told him as much, but he never liked how opinionated I was.

Anyways, this dream had me waking up feeling great. Just a few weeks ago, it still made me mad to think of him and how he’s wronged me. Now I feel like  I’ve finally forgiven him. I can bring him to mind and feel only contentment that we had parted ways when we did and hopeful that he’ll find someone who’s particular brand of perfect he already is.

Striking a Balance (seems impossible, just saying.)

Something my therapist told me to consider was that I am way too hard on myself. I set expectations for myself and when I fail to achieve a goal it gets me down - like really down. I know she's right about this, but I have no idea where the habit came from and when.

To be frank, no one ever had expectations for me when I was growing up. Because my mother was at work for the bulk of my formative years and my father was completely out of the picture by the time I was 2, the responsibility of "raising" me fell onto a number of babysitters. I don't remember a lot about them, because there were just too many, but most of them were stay-at-home moms. I know there were a number of Newfies, and that one of them had dentures and it freaked the shit out of me when she whipped them out... I digress.

The problem with being raised by these babysitters is that all of them had their own children to pile their expectations onto. Sis and I were simply around for extra income, not to be parented.  I didn't know any one expected me to get a diploma, find a career, and/or make grand-babies for them one day. Looking back as an adult who set these expectations for herself, this actually sounds like bliss. 

I mean, yes, I knew one day I was going to have to fend for myself and I figured getting a diploma and not having to work at McDonald's was good idea. I scraped by with the bare minimum of actual academic courses but managed to graduate with 130 credits because of all the art electives. I even went to college (or a "mish-mash of bullshit lessons I will never use") for a while. I had a string of piddly jobs that payed my rent and supported my extra-curricular activities, but they were nothing to write home about. It's actually kind of a miracle I even got that far as I had virtually no encouragement to succeed or threat of punishment if I failed.

So where did this habit of setting not just goals, but pretty damn hard ones for myself come from? Why do I all of a sudden have an imaginary deadline to hammer out the details of my career so I can buy a house all while trying to find a suitable mate and pump out children before I turn 35 (because, for some unknowable reason, I am now aware that there are potential health risks when you have kids after a certain age)? Am I unconsciously competing with my peers, or are my hormones telling me this just what I need to do? 

I don't know when I started giving any fucks about these things, but it's confusing and frustrating. I am a creature of extremes, you see: toeing a line between any two things is damn near impossible for me to do. I'm really going to have to work hard to strike a balance between wanting these things and being OK if I don't get them when/how I want them, I guess.

... oh, God. Did I just set another impossible goal for myself?

Dammit.