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.

So.

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 friendship...it just means that some things are for me and me alone.

OK brain dump over. For now.

Haiku Friday - Close and Sticky Edition

(from the humidity. Just to clarify)

Two federal grants
My job to develop, write
Due at the same time

***

Fourteen days have passed
Not that I'm counting, mind you
Just fooling myself

***

Vanilla Milkshake
Popcorn and mini-churros
Sad, sad substitutes

***

Week one at Y camp
Pale skin gives way to freckles
Sun, fun, swimming, crafts

***

Does love go to waste?
Can love be found, recaptured?
Can the heart refill?

***

Haiku Thursday - Bonus Edition

With each passing day
A period replaces
Looming question marks

Haiku Friday - 4 day Weekend Edition!

Hours stretch ahead
Lazy, empty, nourishing
My heart, my soul, rest.

Walking away is
Not nearly as easy as
You would think it is

Things in practice
Are never as easy as
They are in theory

Hot humidity
Hugs as tight as your old aunt
At the reunion

Parts of me need things
That other parts of me know
Are very bad things

Weigh in is today
Hoping for a decent loss
4 days to first goal

Sparkling blue water
A trip to the library
Cleaning the kitchen

Tan lines and flip flops
Beach reads and sunscreen and heat
Summertime is here

Filling in bare spots
Mowing, weeding and trimming
I want more flowers

Useless but pretty
A small shot of happiness
Maybe it's enough

The Farmer's Market
Calls to me but not the kids
Going anyway!

But...

I don't want to care
Don't want to feel second best
I'm just an option

***

Old words are worthless
Promises made mean nothing
I should be patient

***

Following the rules
We have not even discussed
Still not good enough

***

Impatient, childish
I thought you brought out my best
Maybe I was wrong

Windows

Open up your eyes

Let me see into your soul

And look into mine.