Hokey Pokey

I'm LOSING MY MIND.

Here I am trying so hard to hide the crazy but it's just not working. I'm crawling out of my skin. I'm exhausted and crawling out of my skin.

And why? What's it for?

And what crappy timing... today the wind is changing. The warm gypsy wind is coming. It's starting to call for me and i'm crawling out of my skin.

I'm totally out of my own control. This is a perfect time to make art.

Trying again

I'm not sure if i'm really here or not today. Just here to think and wonder and maybe start something back up. I'm not good at blogging. I never really want anyone to read my words and be mean about them. It's why I hardly belong out here in the bloggosphere.

Anyway. I'm trying again. At a lot of things. The reason I'm here is the biggest. That is... I'm trying to have another baby. I say "I" because B's job is already done. Long ago done. Now it's on me. All on me.

Today I've been angry. Really angry.
I take more than a handful of drugs - some in the form of painful shots - just to prepare my body for the HOPE of getting pregnant. Seriously. There's a chance this whole thing won't even work. I take a medicine first thing in the morning - no, before first thing in the morning - that will screw everything up if i don't wait the proscribed time before consuming something else. That's right. I have to take a pill that helps, but will mess it all up. Then I take another pill, but only with a full breakfast and if I don't have a full breakfast, I get really sick. Then I take other medicines through the day, ending my day with a lovely little shot (I'm a pink pincushion again) that hurts so bad, I have to lie down immediately afterwards. The first few times I did it, I cried and cried. Last night I only had to put my feet up because it was so awful i was dizzy and lightheaded.

That shot? That's the Lupron. It's the one that last time I did this, it made me so crazy I chopped down trees with a hacksaw because it obscured my vision and I thought it would mess up my mailbox. Today, it's making me crazy hot. Like HOT. Like peel off my skin and sit around in my bones HOT.

Anyway, I'm angry. I'm angry that this is who I am. I'm angry that my body doesn't work properly. I have a very different view this time. I'm angry at the people who can do this so easily and don't care how easily it came (and then maybe went). I'm angry that this is a fixture in my bathroom for the foreseeable future.

Mostly I'm just really fucking hot.

Migraines

Just a little thought today.

I have a migraine. It looks something like this:

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2008/02/28/opinion/20080222_MIGRAINE_SLIDESHOW_index.html


Pick a picture, any picture. You'll have a small visual of what my day has been like. It kinda blows, but it's been my lot in life since I was THIRTEEN years old! That's a lot of life to suffer with migraines! But anyway... When I have a migraine, I get weird. Like WEIRD. Crazy creative, totally incapable of processing patterns and dealing with noise/light/stimuli/smells, totally quirky. And I realized something: in high school, my worst migraines would send me home. Some kept me in a dark, quiet room for days on end. What I realized is that people couldn't deal with me. They couldn't cope. No one understood why my right eye looked like it was closing or why I was hiding from the chemicals in the darkroom, but craving the dark room that the darkroom provided. Because I was quirky and silly and weird, it was one MORE reason to stay away. One MORE reason to avoid me...

I'm okay with it now. People do love me now and people do care and people do try to make it better. But migraines suck. They sucked when I was in high school and they sucked in college and they suck as a mommy. Just differently. Like I always say: not a different ball game, just a different inning.

On Dreams

There are few things in the world like early Fall - except the REST of Fall.
Today, this cloudy morning in September, I have so many thoughts running through me. I have been thinking about Dreams lately. What they mean, how they change me through the day, how they change my mornings...

My mom told me about a dream she had:
I was at a friend of your sister's funeral. It was so sad. I held onto this friend's mother and helped walk her down the aisle in the church. 

I told her that that wasn't a sad dream at all! It was a dream that reflects her concern for this friend and for her mother! My sister's friend has had some health issues lately and the dream reflects that my mom worries for my sister's friend and wants to support and help the friend's mother in any way she can. Probably not in a physical hold-her-up kind of way, but in a more emotional way. My mom heard me say this and was immediately relieved. I'm not sure that I believe in any kind of abilities of precognition (though some of my dreams might reflect otherwise). This dream of my mom's was more about her Brain trying to make sense of a deep underlying concern that she hasn't focused on in her waking moments enough.

I dream a lot. I remember my dreams. They are usually convoluted and elaborate. I remember most of my dreams because they mean so much to me. In the morning, I will usually find one on which to dwell, to hone in on what my subconscious is working on. I do believe that dreams are our subconscious' ways of processing information and the various stimuli that we encounter day to day, month to month.

Last night I dreamed about a person I haven't talked to or heard from in years. I dreamed that this person wanted me to play saxophone in a quintet - odd, since I don't play saxophone & have only held one once. I really didn't want to, and suggested that perhaps I should just bow out since not only can I not play sax, I've only had a handful of clarinet lessons (maybe a year, though in my dream I said 3). This dream has stayed with me today. I'm beginning to understand it, though it's going to take a lot of muddling through. I think I know what my subconscious is processing.

Dreams are so fascinating. The studies done on dreaming are hardly extensively written about, but they should be. Dreams really are the megaphones through which our brains scream answers at us. More on this later. I want to go think a little more about this dream, now that I know what I'm working with.

Getting Rid of Toxins

I have control over my thoughts and feelings...
                    right?

If another person can make me sad, or feel like less than I am, it's only because I've given that person Power over me...
                  right?

When I'm lost & low & uninspired, I should reach deep into myself...
                 right?

Guess what, my deep dark insides are sad and old feeling today.

I have a lot of sad swirling around today. I'm alright... I'm not in any kind of danger or physical pain (other than from a rough run last night), but I have some thoughts I need to get rid of. The best part is that as soon as my little Miracles wake up, I'll change my mood and I'll remember that I'm not a glamorous Movie Star or a Rock Star or a fabulous Athlete. I'm just Me. Little Ol' Me, with my Little Life and my Little Quiet Wishes...

Gypsy

“And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair” 
-Kahlil Gibran The Prophet



I have gypsy blood. Round about now in the year, I feel the wind blowing and my legs itch to move, to run, to go... I've become a runner. I run. I lace up my sneakers, turn on some good music and go. Sometimes I wonder if this run will be the one during which my knees will give up. Sometimes I know that it will be The Best Run Ever. Ultimately, it always is. The best run ever, I mean. The Good Part is that I always come home. Always. And there's always a loving pair of arms waiting to hold me and congratulate me and be glad that I've come home.

That doesn't have anything to do with Kahlil Gibran's words, but that's coming. I'm thinking about how to write about wanting to be on a tall hill with the wind playing in my hair and running in bare feet. The Gypsy loves that thought. I love that thought. 

What Ifs

What if I wasn't meant for this?
What if I can't do it?
What if I'm going down the wrong path?
What if I don't get to do what's Good-For-Me?
What if my dreams don't come true?
What if the dreams of my heart aren't the dreams of my head?
What if I can't be ME?


What if going down a different path is okay?
What if the path I thought I wanted isn't the path that I'm on?
What if that's okay too?

Struggling today.