Wednesday, May 2, 2012

brain dump 2

OK so getting more shit out of my brain.

I think I need to start therapy again. I don't know. I AM about to start training for a triathlon. Wonder if that will take the place of therapy? Probably. Swim bike run swim bike run strength lather rinse repeat.

Gotta help with the sleep issues anyway.

Life just is what it is. Whatever pieces of it I have chosen and whatever pieces have been thrust upon me...well, it doesn't matter. At the end of the day it all has to be dealt with, and it's all taking up room in my head.

I worry about Meghan, I worry about Molly. I worry I am wrong, that I'm a bad parent, that I slack too much in some areas and hover too much in others.

I wish I had some mind altering substances to shut down the crazy part and let the creative part out for awhile. My understanding, and my fear, of the prescription meds is that they will shut down both. I guess living with the crazy is the price I pay for having access to the creative part.

I wish I didn't like the Justin Bieber song Boyfriend so fucking much. I even downloaded it. I am so ashamed.

Are y'all sick of hearing about me yet? I don't blame you.

I told Jeff I was going to start on the memoir of our friendship. The thing I started, the story of Andy and I, is so bleghhhhh I just want to puke. It's a story that doesn't need to be told, not now. Not  by me. It's too raw. I am too bitter. I'm too fragile, too newly removed from him.


Brain dump. Off to write...something...for seven minutes. Or more.

brain dump 5-2

What is keeping me from writing?
I am so tired all the time, my sleep is completely messed up. I wake up every day between 3:30 and 4:30 am and I don't go back to  sleep.

I don't think it's good enough. I don't know how to take the sentences and craft them into a novel. I don't know how to do the twists and turns that keep people reading. I don't think, ultimately, that THAT story is the story I am supposed to tell. It's not mine, it's his. And I wouldn't want someone else telling MY untellable story.

And I can't think of another story to tell.

Work is good, but so busy and so multi-tasky and I have to switch gears so quickly all day long...and that wears me out. I don't have the luxury of long stretches of time to work on things, because there are just so many things.

There is all the personal stuff...should we move? Should he move back here? Do I look for a job there? Do I apply to school? Do we sell the house? One set of money issues is managed but there are two more that need to be dealt with and I hate dealing with them.

My mom, my dad, my brother. All the triangulation. All the bullshit. I just want to run away. I'm a grown woman, I should be able to handle this.

My recent realization that I am under no obligation to tell anyone anything, to tell someone everything, to put it all out there. Some things? Are just not theirs to know. Some things are just mine, or just ours, and that doesn't mean I don't value a person's just means that some things are for me and me alone.

OK brain dump over. For now.