Can I Hear a Boo-ya?

Today is December 7th. Pup and I are again at the lake getting it ready for our Christmas in a couple of weeks. I just completed cleaning for the entire day and it looks good around here. I do love this weird little lakehouse. I love that we're down in the creek end of the lake where it's quiet and while we do have access to the lake (although an adventure always getting out there!) we are living the good life here on our three acres of creek-front where we can bring the nuggets and frolic outdoors and just let them run wild. No worries mostly.

And when we want some crazy we putt-putt out through the channel and get out on the big parts of the lake where we can go to any number of spots for cocktails and ass-food. It's fun around there. Then we putt-putt-back to our quiet end and enjoy a fire or a mini-binge on Netflix or a nice sit on the patio or deck or read the local papers to each other.

(can't seem to insert anything here - grr)

It's so good.

You know,

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad?

~Sheryl Crow

I am feeling better. I finally made an appointment with the therapist and actually went to the appointment. I nearly threw up beforehand, but made it! I cannot believe the spew she had to listen to. I can't believe the crap I managed to blab about in that 50 minutes. She nearly had to throw me out while I was telling some weird and aimless story about who knows what? But it made me feel better. Just the saying stuff without censoring myself was a release. Ya

This woman doesn't know the extent of my crazy or even care about me (yet) and that is a release as well. Weird yes?

I am promising myself I will go and not run away.

Is This Helping?

Nah

Again - my pets - right now my dog - knows something is up.

Pup and I are at the lake to finish up de-summerizing the place and cleaning after having the nuggets here a few weeks ago. I was welcomed into the space by a bunch of halloween items. A bat hanging from the mailbox. A "keep out" sign in my herb pot. Orange pumpkins of the styrofoam kind scattered in the yard on the lakeside. I love those nuggets. Inside is a ghoul that we left on the curtain rod because he was entirely wet when we packed up to go home.

This place is a mess. Unmade beds, A toilet where a 6 year-old peed and didn't always hit his mark. Toys everywhere.

Today I have a plan.

Last night I couldn't sleep.

Pup doesn't really love going to bed early. I went to bed around 9 or 9:30. He came with me. I had weird and fitful dreams and woke up at two and got up at four.

But today I have my plan even though I'm sitting here at the computer watching episodes of Hoarders. wtf anyway?

Pup got up at five and is now sleeping in the "lump" and watching "How It's Made." He loves that show. He is sleeping. I can hear it.

I watch Hoarders because I fear I could become one. But I am constantly purging. I take bags and bags of things to Goodwill. I will declutter this place today. It helps me stay good. Calm. Superficially together.

Fake it until you make it. I think it helps.

Peace out old woman.

Never

It's weird that when you're in a thing. When you're in a way. When you're in it and can't crawl out. It's weird because people don't notice. Or they don't want to notice. Or they're scared of noticing. Or you don't notice them noticing. But my pets notice. Talk about empaths! They're on me like butter on toast. It's annoying entirely. It's comforting.

I'm tired. So tired. I sleep fitfully as I do and yet want to sleep all the time. I had my little nugget here the other day and he took a very long nap and I did as well. Just lay down on the couch and slept. Groggy when I heard him awake. Groggy all the time.

Pup gets home and we eat dinner, I clean up, we sit on the couch where after a few minutes I say, "I'm coming in" which means I'm going to lay on him and I fall asleep. I sleep all evening. Then I get up and say, "I'm going to bed."

Then start again the next day.

Sleeping

TV

Reading

Nothing

I resent any plans I've made or had to make. The thought of the holidays coming up scare me not a little. I wanted to host Thanksgiving and I am, but it's looming and I feel overwhelmed. Gah

Christmas has been bad for me since I left my Wasband. His birthday is Christmas day so I've never spent the eve or the day with my kids since then. Bam - never. Pup and I are always alone. It shouldn't matter, but it gets me every year. This year we had picked the day after for our celebration, but the girls thought it would be nice to go to the cabin and have stay overs over the weekend of the 21st. But that overwhelmes me. I have to bring Christmas there? I wanted to decorate my new house with a huge real tree and celebrate here. I love the thought of waking to my family, but Pup and I will still be alone on the days. And no one will see our Christmas.

I remember wondering why my own momma stopped thinking she had to set up a tree. Why bother when no one is going to see it? This isn't what I thought having a family would be. I thought having kids would guarantee no loneliness, but I'm lonely. So . . . I had unrealistic expectations around that. I don't get Christmas. I don't get Thanksgiving all the time.

We teach people how to treat us. I've not wanted to be a pain and because of that I am a pain. I'm the one who broke up our home. I'm to blame for that and more. I'm the one. I don't get Christmas.

It feels selfish to want Christmas sometimes. I want my own family around me sometimes on the days of Christmas.

But they get to choose how they have their own family Christmas. I'm just not part of that any longer.

When my momma died my dad remarried right away and moved away. We never saw him for Christmas again.

Pup and I need to have our own plan for Christmas and I need to snap out of it.

But I have no snap left. I need to collagen up on my snap for fuck's sake.

Sometimes We Do Fall Down

Paralyzed could be the way I'm being. Stuck is a word I've used often. I'm growing tired of that word, but yes, stuck.

I've had the name of a therapist for three or so months in my day planner and have not made an appointment. Who knows why. Lazy? Afraid? Lazy? Stuck? Unwilling to do the work? I don't know.

I saw a therapist about three years ago for less than a dozen times. When it started getting hard I ran. I had even warned him I was a runner. My unwillingness to face myself is kinda laughable. I claim I want to dig deep, but don't.

I'm feeling unlovable, unlikeable, unworthy. I'm looking at those words and am now feeling like a big whiner and pussy. WThell is the problem? I'm definitely at an age where I really should know a few more answers than I do.

My old therapist was a perfectly nice person and I'm certain he could have helped me, but here's one thing that led to my running. He mentioned I'm an empath and in that time I did not know what that meant. I understood that to mean something whooo-hoo and unworldly. I have since found out it simply means you feel other's feelings or some such shit. A better way to explain might be I can feel another's sense of certain things. More than I care to frankly. I don't like being one. I realize empathy is something we need more of, but I'm not sure this is what it means in my mind.

I don't know. All of what I've just written looks like so much dumb-ass mutterings. Blech.

I am way too sensitive and take things way personally. Although, at times, I believe it might be the only way to take a particular incident or experience.

Fuck

The other evening some plans Pup and I had fell through (she forgot we had made plans) and I fell apart. In my fake or real empath way I am feeling that someone has total contempt for me now and maybe forever, and only has contact with me at all because I'm her momma.

I'm overstating I pray, but somewhere in there is a kernel of the real story. We haven't talked about the real story so I don't know what's wrong. Everything. Nothing. But it's there and unforgivable. I'll talk about what it probably is soon.

But, the other night when the plans were changed I had a quiet, but complete meltdown. I cried in my bed for hours. Had the darkest thoughts I've ever had. The thoughts even scared me. I felt so worthless and terrible I - just for a moment - imagined I could end me and others would be better off.

what the fuck

Scary to imagine and I had to crawl out of bed and watch something on my computer and sleep sitting up in my desk chair. fuck

The next day I snapped out of it a little.

I do snap out of my dark moods/thoughts, but they are dark and deep and I sometimes seem to relish them or encourage them or do nothing to dissuade them.

fuck

fuck and stuck

To hide I shop too much. I eat too much. I do nothing too much. I push friends away too much until I barely have any left. I watch tv too much. Do nothing too much. Sit too much. Ponder too much.

Ring Around the Rosey - We All Fall Up

Fall has always felt more like the beginning of the year for me. With fall fashion for us to check out and the fall organizing and buttoning up of all things summer it seems like a great place to begin a new thought.

Years and years ago I had a thread on a forum-type place (I got kicked off! ha! So did my friend T! I don't know what we did - something horrible! No we didn't, but we did get kicked off.) named Wrecking Ball. But now that term has been overtaken by a young 'un singer so I need a new phrase - hmm . . . My youngest daughter mentioned a few months ago in passing that she was having the Year of Lorenzo. I like that. I kept saying a year ago that it was my Last Good Summer because the following summer I was turning a certain age, ahem, and life as I know it would be over. Of course it isn't, but I am dramatic. Life isn't. IT ISN'T!

Maybe "They're All Good Summers" or "I'm Forever in Summer" or "Summer is my Middle Name." How about "Forever Fall?"

I'll think a minute longer.

I like beginnings. The thinking, the plotting, the progress charting, the checklists.

Time to turn on the fireplace. Time to make stew. Time to organize our office. Time to bring the kitties home from the lake. Time to begin.

Squeeky in love

Me in love

Love in space

Puppers love

It's Not You - It's Me

All the time I feel as though I cannot fully catch my breath. A catch in the back of my throat that either is going to propel me into a bit of crying or a bit of loud sighing or a bit of self-(fill in the blank) that I cannot fully realize or embrace or believe or possess. An unnamed bit of something (!) in the back of my throat/mind that isn't comfortable. Damn it is uncomfortable! What is it?

I look and look for the reason or cause. I take notes. I make a plan. I sit on that plan. Why do I sit on the plan? It does seem that the further I dip into this actualization or awareness or grasp of what I'm looking for, the more treacherous and perilous things seem. They really aren't that way, but I cannot catch my breath thinking about the risk. All the thoughts and spoken/unspoken words and things left undone or done and wrongs or rights. All of this stuff. This confusing stuff. Stuff I feel I should have a handle on. I don't have a handle on it. I don't even have a handle to grab.

The thing I've thought about all the time is making me unable to catch my breath because it caught me. I know there is a way to wriggle out of this snare if I were only smarter or more clever or less inclined to sit on the damn plan. I'm smart. I know how it is. I don't know how it was. There's the blemish in my plan. I think I know how, but clearly I do not.

What a bunch of prattle. But in the end - I cannot catch my breath and I need it.

Room with a View

View in a Room

No View Here

Little by Little, Bit by Bit

We made it through the wilderness 

Somehow we made it through

Didn't know how lost I was

Until I found you 

Like a Virgin

~Madonna

Yeah, nothing like a well thought-out opening. Realistic and appropriate.

But it's true. We made it though what seemed like a very long winter-season (Game of Thrones anyone?) and we made it through a remodel. Here is the space. I'm tinkering always with stuff placement and the large and very 90s areas up near the ceiling made me have to think pretty hard, but I'm loving living here. It's bright even on a gray day and the vibe I'm getting is relaxed even if I'm not. Heh~

Excuse the refuse on the island, the random cat - of course we NEVER let our cats on the counters! We would NEVER let our dog on the furniture! - and just the mess in general. House Beautiful has nothing on me. There's only two of us living here, but you'd think otherwise with the mess we manage to make. I'll post more appropriate and staged photos in the future. 

Grace

Pup and I waited for our contractor to come today. We had a couple of things to show him and the countertops were scheduled to be installed today and I needed to be here to see to all of that.

But they didn't come. Somehow, today, in the middle of the day, when we were expecting them to be showing up, our contractor got word that the counters had not passed inspection. There were flaws in the quartz.

Today they figured this out. After waiting three weeks for these counters they discover, today, that there are flaws in the quartz.

Gah and arg and grrr!

I burst into laughter because really, I want to shove someone down something. Not a real someone, just a shadowy no one that I can hurt just a little.

The joys of remodeling!

So I really ate some feelings for lunch. Several times.

And tonight I'm drinking wine.

This stuff is really good btw! My assistant from our new biz where she and I hold down the fort brought it in one day and I hadn't tried it yet. Grapefruit Rose. I am guzzling it. And that is a plastic wine glass I bought at Target just for the way I'm living these days. Living the life!

My makeshift kitchen. Coffeepot, toaster, microwave, and a bottle of wine.

No reason for this post other than reminding myself that even this day is good. Always something good to see here.

xxoo

A Beautiful Mess

Sunday, 2.10.19 - 10 a.m.

Who am I? I just drove to MacDonalds  for sausage and egg mcmuffins in my pajamas. Me. If you knew me you would know this isn't me. I had on my animal print flannel pajamas. During a snowstorm. wth

I put on sunglasses, a winter hat with one of those very cute, yet very large fake fur ball thingys on top along with my incredibly puffy down coat that seriously makes me look like a toddler who's mother has bundled them up for an outside adventure. I tucked my animal print jammy bottoms into my well-used Sorel boots, trudged out to my car, fluffed off the snow with window lowerings and windshield wipers and drove the mile or so to our MacDonalds. In my jammies.

sigh!!

How am I here? Who am I?

I am a woman who, along with her husband, two cats, and one dog, has moved into a detached townhouse in a much different town. After moving in we began a renovation on the main level which is 1/3 of the house. So we are living in a semi-controlled chaos. No kitchen, no couches, no place to hang out. Only our bedroom and our office are kinda set up.

It's wonderful! And chaotic as I said. But we have no good way to make a breakfast. It's also a very busy time of year for my husband and he was hungry. And it's snowing to beat the band. And it's 6 above which, right now, is rather balmy. A week or so ago, it was 30 below. For real. Not a windchill of 30 below, but for reals and true 30 below zero. The coldness of which our area hadn't seen since the 90s. Wow it was cold! Crazy cold. We were actually trapped (a dramatic word, yet technically true) in our house for a day. We only have access to 1/2 of our garage since a large dumpster is in the drive way so our Jeep Wrangler had to be outside. Wouldn't start that cold morning. Triple A couldn't get to us with all the stranded people on the highways that were in danger. We were safe and warm. We just couldn't get to work. I couldn't get to our satellite office to open it and our assistant couldn't get there either. Her car wouldn't start either. What a thing! If anyone reading this (brave and lovely soul) I'm thinking you have no idea what 30 below zero means. We barely knew what it could mean and we live in this place! Wow!

So - with all that aside, we are remodeling our house! It will be lovely.

Front

Back

Kitchen/ Living area before

floor and cupboards done

help from a furry-friend

progress photo

I sometimes feel crazed. I am one who does enjoy order in my life. It's anything but that. I have been eating my feelings a little. But I do that anyway. I know the end result is within my grasp. In spite of me! I have a photo in my mind how it will look when finished. I pray that is the reality.

New home - new life.