Thursday, July 26, 2012

i wish

i wish i didn't feel so shitty and bitchy

i wish someone would come over and paint my toes with crackle nail polish

i wish i could get a tattoo of a teardrop on the inside of my middle finger left hand or on my left wrist

i wish i could cry

i wish i had $100,000 so on days when i feel like shit i could not work : and it wouldn't mean making or not making rent

i wish they sold no name kroger orange juice at wal-mart so i don't have to make trips to both

i wish i could stop vomiting up foam at patients' homes

i wish i could be in a car accident and that it was so bad i'd have to stay in the hospital for months and rest and be taken care of

i wish i didn't have a phone

i wish i could cry

i wish that the sonogram i'm having tomorrow was because i'm having a baby and not because blood tests came back questionable and they need to check my liver/abdomen

i wish i didn't have anxiety and that panic was not a part of my daily routine

i wish i could stop worrying about the dumb liver results

i wish i could take my life and not feel bad about that

i wish my doctor would give me a drug that would stop me from throwing up

i wish i had husband to support and help me right now

i wish i could cry

i wish my car would morph into an acura tl tonight

i wish the straw that broke the camel's back was not the "Rachel Hay and Guest" printed on a wedding invitation i got today

i wish i had an "and guest"

i wish i knew how to do this / life / live / be better

i wish i could drown my sorrows in a 6 pack of beer

i wish i could take a vacation to washington dc

i wish i rested when i sleep

i wish i could cry

Monday, July 23, 2012

m y s p a c e

the world is full of terd-asses shit-asses and dumb-asses

and you can sure as hell bet that if the mere mention of your name makes me want to pop a xanax i'm
NOT
going to let you into my space

let me be very clear :

MY PLACE MY SPACE

and it is a privilidge for you to be invited into my space

respect that


and don't push me

if i say no nicely 2 times - the 3rd isn't going to be nice

i know four letter worlds. a lot of them. and i'll string them together like no sailor has ever done.


the end


Sunday, July 22, 2012

safe place

today has been a cupcake kind of day. i just needed them. so i gathered the energy to make them -- and well, it didn't go well. i couldn't place my finger on what wasn't right. i put in all the ingredients. i baked them at 350 degrees. i put them in darling cupcake tins. but the taste was so off. so bad. so bleck. and when i checked the measuring spoon i used, it all made sense.

yes, it's true... if you use a 1/2 TBSP measuring spoon for salt, soda, vinegar and vanilla it will taste very different than using 1/2 tsp for those ingredients.

so now my home smells of delicious cupcakes which = very deceiving & :( as there are none to eat.

a sent me a journal entry that she wrote, entitled 'my island.' it was filled with descriptive images of the things she wants and doesn't want, the feel and lay of the land she would call home, and how her world would be created to best suit her. reading it made me want to do the same.

and do i will. in seven points. because seven is the number of the day for me.

1 - the following would not exist : zits, periods, gross smells, itches, bugs, heat, sand, weeds, trash, meds, pain, money, bills, mistakes, hurt feelings, phone, internet, people

2 - i would live in a secluded space of flat land. no mountains. the land would roll a little but not too much. there would be an ocean far enough away to keep the sand out of my space but close enough that i could hear it. there would be green, soft grass all around. beautiful flowers that would just grow. weeping willows with hammocks under them where i could crawl in and lay all day. i could spend my time tending to the flowers if i wanted but if i didn't get around to it they wouldn't die.

3 - there would be no direct sunlight. the sky would be filled with clouds. soft light would embrace me every day. the temperature would always be 72 with a breeze. i would wear over sized black t-shirts and bare feet. but if i wanted to wear socks moisture would never get on them. the weather would change to fit my feelings. calm, blue with a breeze. happy, sunlight streaming through clouds with yellow flowers. angry, black storms with hail and sleet. sad, steady rain and gray skies.

4 - my home would be open with the exception of one room that would be completely closed - no windows. that's where i would sleep. the rest of the home would be filled with thick berber carpet and soft foam to walk on. the walls would be soft lavender, sage and tan. i would have lots of chairs to sit in. the over sized overstuffed ones that you can seep into. and no heavy blankets. only sheets. a large black flat screen tv to watch psych, the glades, and common law on. and an amazing sound system that resonates through the house to play my music on. food would appear when i was hungry. and chocolate would only be an arm's length away.

5 - my room would be completely closed off. with green plants that grow with no sunlight. my bed would be king sized, soft, tiled and raised because i love crawling into bed. i would have 8 feather pillows and my sheets would be silky soft and light pink. air would always be moving without fans and the walls would be sound proof. when i am angry i would go there. and it would be safe.

6 - no one would be allowed to come into my space unless invited and they would leave when it was time. i would have a variety of fast cars to drive around the giant race track built 5 miles from my home. my day car would be an acura tl and my fast cars would be audis and bentleys. all would be equipped with insane sound systems. no one to tell me to slow down. i would have a place behind my home filled with glass to break and shatter. and a sledge hammer. and things to hit and punch and scream at.

7 - at night the moon would shine in his brilliance and stars would shine forever in every direction. each night he would take me into his arms and tell me about his day, or listen to mine, or rock me gently to sleep. the stars would hum quietly and twinkle.

to be free from pain, panic, fear, worries, distractions, people. that's what i would love. there are so many more things i would add to my safe place, but this is a good start.

what are seven parts of your safe place?

Monday, July 16, 2012

perspective changes perception

i told my friend a today that i feel scattered and slippery :: pale yellow. every time i think i have my footing the path changes and my foot lands where my brain had no intention of stepping. this is an odd place to be. here i feel unsure, unsettled, even unwelcome.

i went over to a's house and cried in her rocking chair as she quietly listened. there was time and space for me to talk and be heard. 

as any good friend, she heard the pattern of underlying pain and linked it together for me so that i could  'zoom out' and see the bigger picture.

there are so many people that enter my (our) space each day. physical, emotional, mental. some people are kind and respectful of the trust they have been given which is us letting them into our space. others bring what a and i named (copyright pending) 'the 6 centimeter measuring stick.'

whether intentional or not the effects of the '6 cm measuring stick' hurt because it highlights and exaggerates one small portion of my life (our lives) --- and it is usually the part i'm struggling with the most. it zeros in so tightly on this '6 cm' space that suddenly my accomplishments, my victories, my achievements become nothing, and my only focus is on that which i did not do / can not do well.

my perception of me goes from whole, complete and inclusive of all pains (work, family, friends, church, financial, health, counseling) and all triumphs (counseling, health, financial, church, friends, family, work) to my weakest area.

in the case of the story with a it was financial. and every goal i have reached - every habit i have mastered suddenly had no meaning, because i was not the best and the most perfect (the richest person) in the world.

as we talked, a took away the microscope i had put myself under and gave me a telescope. she reminded me that my life is not made up of one moment or one color or one choice but of many moments and many colors and many choices.

the '6 cm measuring stick' is unfair to the measurer and the measured. the measurer misses out on a whole, complete, well and genuine person. someone who is authentic, real and not afraid to be herself (or himself).

and it is not fair to the measured because in that moment i forget all the good i have done and only think of the weak. i can't, i will never, i won't ever are all starting phrases of destruction that the '6 cm measuring stick' encourages.

so tonight, i am being gentle with myself as i process this new information. i am eating chocolate muffins with skim milk because that's what i want. and i will shower, watch a distracting tv show and go to bed. 

all the while remembering that i'm much more than '6 cm' will ever be able to measure.

and so are you.



'6 cm' images of this painting show only a fraction of what it is.


my beautiful cousin, britney, painted this for me.
"life is a journey not a destination."
so true

Saturday, July 14, 2012

the name

tonight, i am not me.

i am her.

the one who comes out when control is needed. the one who seeks to fix, clean, straighten, direct, force, command, manage, regulate, and rule A N Y T H I N G so that situations make sense.

and after 20 months of knowing her and living with her, i have given her a name.

elle. (pronounced /el/)

she is the other side of me. the side that wants to protect the softer, weaker me from harsh reality. she is easily upset and comes out of the shadows like a snake ready to swallow its victims when rachel is hurt.

tonight, rachel got anxious. really anxious. and that hurt. see, she had a plan. and was going to carry out said plan. and there was an interruption. a need. she felt guilt. and had to help. but her mind raced. what if ... how ... hurry ... now !!! cycled like wheels on a car, racing hundreds of miles in seconds to win the prize!

except, there was no prize on the other end. only the beginning of the same .. what if .. how .. hurry .. now!! drumming , pounding , pulsing , her skull; it beat relentlessly .

what if . how . hurry . now !

on the outside, rachel looked calm. agitation may have come across in her short answers, but she kept her cool, balanced the two 'parties' and the deafening words in her mind. calm and ok.

yes, rachel looks fine.

but, elle knew better.

she knew she had to take over. take control. and make things right. so she tuned out rachel, and blasted the same song over - and over - and over. she doesn't know why. but it was the only song that pushed her to scrub her house, vacuum, do laundry, sort, think, do. over. over. over.

and she wants to cut. so badly. but rachel is coming back and is exhausted. she is hushing elle. reminding her that alliswell. god will provide money for her needs. god will provide a home for her. god will give her the strength to continue with work. god will give her a vacation in time. god will make all fair and equal in the eternities. god will give her her time to have a family.

god will give. in his time. god will give.

elle fights with a power and force so strong. but rachel is sure, that tonight, she does not want to cut. does not want to return to the familiar pain. she wants clean sheets, new clothes that aren't soaked in elle's sweat. a shower that is cool and calming. and her favorite concoction of drugs to make her - well them - fall asleep.

it's ok, elle. it's ok.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

living with a hangover

.... is not cool ....

i refer to what i "lovingly" call the day after a night filled with dreams, an "emotional hangover day."

i don't drink, so i've never had an alcoholic hangover, but i would say that the emotional kind is compatible.

my dad's mom, mamaw, died in march 2011 from lung cancer. so much was happening in my life then. november 2010 was when i had my first seizure. my life was filled with dr appointments, new medications, counseling, and sleep. so much sleep. my body was exhausted and had given up on me.

let me tell you a little about mamaw. she was perfect for me. when i talked about her i said we were twins separated by a few years. mamaw and i were so alike. she struggled with anxiety and depression and would talk to me about it. she had 15 kids. she lived on a farm. she did what had to be done. i adored her. some of my favorite things about her were her flower gardens, her hummingbird feeder by her back window, her love of camping, her creativity in making red hats as part of the red hat society (she even made a bra one just to give you an idea about her sense of humor :), her ability to make each person feel like the center of her world, that she always wanted me to drive when i was there and never criticized my driving, she trusted me, she loved me. she was always rubbing something. i remember snuggling up next to her chair and she would rub my head or hold my hand. she loved scratch offs and gambling! she was one hell of a woman.

and the greatest, kindest, gentlest, person i know.

i felt a deep connection to her. our souls matched. and words can't describe what that means. we were comfortable in each other's presence. she loved me with every part of her, and i knew that. and i loved her back just as much.

which brings me to march 2011. my life felt odd. mamaw was so sick. in so much pain. and i was torn between wanting to keep her forever and wanting her to be free of her cancerous body.

she would ask for me and i would come in and sit by her bed. tears come to my eyes as i remember her holding my hand and rubbing it. even in death she was thinking about me. and i treasure that memory. my aunts would get everyone out of the room. turn the lights low. and mamaw would lay in bed holding my hand and i would sit in a chair next to her, begging my mind to memorize every moment, because it was fleeting.

the last time i heard her voice was when i was saying goodbye. she held me tight. hugged me three times. and whispered in my ear, "i love you, forever."

it is so hard to write this. to remember and go through these feelings. a few weeks later she passed. and at this time i entered the numb part of my personal journey. too much was happening and i didn't have time to process her death. i wasn't able to grieve for her. until now.

yes, now, over a year later, i am having recurring nightmares about her dying. in my dreams i cry, all night, sob for her to be well. chase after her or the illusion of her, but wake just before getting to her. in these few moments after i wake my heart is crushed, my soul burns, and my mind becomes consumed with "what if ... " "if only ... " and mostly "why...."

why did she have to go? she was supposed to see me grow. see my husband. hold my babies. and i always dreamed of having her come live with me. and not worry about things. i wanted to give her so many things and shower her with love.

she. deserved. the. best.

these emotional hangovers have been increasing in their frequency. and with each daunting nightmare my ability to cope with the day ahead of me decreases. i feel less able to concentrate. less able to work effectively. and tired. so tired. but sleep is a harsh mistress, because she allows my squelched thoughts to rise up and be heard. all. night. long.

and i have not choice but to lay and endure.

if i could link the words "my love for mamaw" to a web page that would bring you to my open heart, i would. i have tried to paint a picture of her for you with my words. but nothing will be able to show my deep love for her and the incredible pain i feel because she is not here. not a single day goes by that i don't think of her. my home is filled with reminders of her.

she is always on my mind. constantly in my heart. i love her with every breath.

and miss her with all my tears.

sister, me, mamaw


Saturday, July 7, 2012

i. am. strong.

i have talked before about how anxiety turns irrational thoughts into my known reality. and one of the things it 'told' me was that i was weak. i was a doormat. i was something for others to walk over and on. my 'job' was to always be there. to take others' mud, dirt, and shit and allow them to wipe it all over me.

i felt that setting boundaries was not allowed. my job was to be perfect - in school and work, with friends and family. i listened, i fixed, i did, i worried, i stressed. and though i would never say it out loud.... this is the doormat that best fit my feelings :::
i didn't know how to say 'no!' how to state my truth calmly and clearly. counseling opened my eyes to the possibilities of a world with acceptable boundaries. ones that would help me stay strong and keep 'shattering' personalities at a distance. i have not mastered the art of boundary setting yet. and let me just be clear -- it takes practice! it's hard. so hard.

because familiar pain is easier pain than unfamiliar pain.

but i'm trying. and that counts.

i will admit that i may be over zealous with boundaries right now - but that is ok. because i'm growing and hurting and struggling and i want to keep myself safe. my goal is to reach this simply stated, truthful doormat :::





because i'm not! i'm a person of worth. i count. my good times and my bad. and that is what has made me strong.

yes. i am strong. something i  N E V E R considered myself before. i always thought i was weak. but i have done so much and at the end of the day in my honest, reflective and truthful moments, i cannot in good conscious look in the mirror and say i have no value.

five truths about me ::: 1) i listen from the heart and because of that people talk to me from their hearts. i hear them and understand them. i listen to care, not because i like to hear sounds. 2) i'm good at my job. i love kids and they love me. i think that says a lot about me. kids see what adults often fail to. 3) i am honest about my struggles and imperfections. 4) i am good at decorating my home and making it feel inviting and safe for others. 5) i help those i care about not because i want something in return but because i love them.

bad days will come. hard times are guaranteed. suck happens. but because of these five core truths about me, i cannot say i am worthless. i matter. and so do you.

what are your five truths?


i am strong. i am a fighter. the playlist






Wednesday, July 4, 2012

define:shatter

"to break or cause to break suddenly and violently into pieces;
damage or destroy"

i have met people like this. people who with a conversation, a look, a word, shatter my hopes, my thoughts, my dreams : me .

the other night i had a shattering experience. and i boiled with rage, furious at what had occurred. i was a cauldron of black tar - bubbling, boiling, burning. i could feel the tar boil to the top and burst. the heat engulfed me.

i sat there, playing the situation over and over planning how i was going to release my feelings. i played images of me with a sledge hammer going at a wall over and over.

bang ! bang ! bang !

then i imagined going at cement . perhaps not as gracefully as the "mighty thor" but i was a storm cloud from hell known there as 'thorita' and knew i could do damage.

crack ! crack ! crack !

crisp clear cracks ringing in my ear : and in my mind i watched the cement cower in my presence.

something had to be done. i took all the glasses in my home and a hammer. on each one in permanent marker i wrote the words i wanted to say to the people and situation but couldn't.

'you don't understand me-never will; i am stronger than you think i am; i am not who you think i am'

and for good measure a cup dedicated to f*** and another to shitass, hell, damn, etc.

with each cup i took one swing and shattered them. the sound of the glass surrendering to me still rings in my ears. glass flew. tiny pieces found homes in my carpet. large pieces flew to the other side of the room.

it was ______ what it was.

not awesome or cool or even therapeutic. it is what i needed.

it was what it was.

and i left the broken glass there by my front door. for a while. as a warning to those who may enter that they are walking on explosive, dangerous ground. to remind myself of how shattering the entire experience was.


i was the glass. transparent with unspoken thoughts in black. {  jagged - sharp  } i felt like the shards of glass had cut me open - but unlike other times in my life, i didn't bleed. instead i leaked clear fluid. i oozed. i had no battle left to fight. nothing left to give. in a way, i was lifeless.

then today as i was walking around the bigger pieces i stepped on a smaller one. of course causing my foot to rip open and bleed.

and in that moment it clicked. holding this rage wasn't hurting those who shattered me : it was actually hurting me. i was the one bleeding. not them.

so tonight i cleaned up the glass. and put it in a bowl. and maybe in a day or so, i will release the remainder of my rage. of my hurt. of my pain. and throw the glass away. but until then it will sit - contained - by my other home decor. 


a reminder. my pain is real. my pain counts. and if i can give it to god, i won't hurt as much - my cuts will heal - the bleeding will stop.