breathe

do you ever stop some days and just give thanks for being able to take a breathe? i'll admit, i didn't until recently. in fact, i think i've been in a mindset of not being thankful for a long time. i remember being a teenager and thinking i was invincible. a simple invincibility that gave me a great deal of freedom and even more selfish indulgences. i think that's pretty common as a teen.

into my 20's i was a bit more aware of how fortunate a life i led. i think it started after the rape, then continued to develop when i fell in love with d, then met and married fuckhead, then a baby at 28 that barely survive her early arrival. all of it put some things into perspective. but despite the good and bad of those 10 years, i can't remember waking up in the morning and just being happy to be able to take a deep breath.

the past 9 years of my 30's have been tumultuous, filled with change and love and anger and and and...you name it, i feel like i've been there, done that. here's the strange thing though. in the last two years i've breathed a happy, grateful sigh more often than i can remember. i woke up this morning and it was as if the air had never smelled as sweet. it hit my lungs like a burst of cold air. i felt it in every inch of me. despite the fact that things don't always go my way, things can be incredibly challenging, my evil self doubting voice sometimes comes up before i can take a breath, i'm still breathing. and it feels wonderful.

today i wake up thankful for the good, the bad, the ugly, the sweet, the passionate life that i am leading. i think that's the key...i'm leading it! i'm trusting in the experience. all of it and i don't feel burdened by life anymore. instead i'm filled with gratitude to still be here, to get another chance everyday to see how things unfold. to experience all there is to experience in the day. my dear friend, j, continues to remind me to live one day at a time. that's the only way to live. i keep trying to do it on a larger scale but when it comes down to it, it's all about one thing at a time, one moment at a time, one simple day at a time makes all the simple things so much more alive.

breathe, i'll take it. hopeful that i get another chance to do the same tomorrow. but for today, i will breathe.

care

i'm sure we've all heard the old adage that in order for someone else to truly love you, you have to love yourself. it always sounded like a bunch of horseshit until i realized the truth in that statement.

tonight i had the displeasure of going through what i like to call a mini-breakdown. it included panic, fear, loathing, hate, loneliness, fatigue, anger and a whole bunch of hurt and self doubt. this happens to me when i least expect it which makes it hurt all the more. i mean, really, iris....don't you know yourself well enough to know the warning signs? apparently not.

i've had a rough couple of weeks. between opportunities at work literally knocking down my door (which is a great thing but scary) to my kidlets being away from me pre-christmas to them being home with me post-christmas to being alone with my thoughts during those two weeks, well, i've been living in my head more than usual. this, if you know me at all, is not a positive thing. you see, the voices that are in my head are not particularly nice to me. granted, they've improved drastically but still, they don't sound great. i've said many times that although i want them to sound like barry white and woo me into a seductive trance, wafting at me and making me love every inch of my beautiful soul, it doesn't happen. the voice sounds more like courtney love after a bender...or maybe before a bender. either way it's a gruff, smoky, ugly bitch of a voice that scream obscenities at me and plays really bad grunge music which smearing lipstick all over her bruised face. it aint pretty.

so here i am. alone in my big house. it doesn't feel like a home right now. what makes it a home is my family. and right now they are 1/2 a mile away at dickhole's house, likely asleep and happy in their beds which leaves me with a real joy. if they're happy then that's all that matters to me. and the other part of my life that feels like home was off fixing a car somewhere for a friend. and here i sit. desperate to figure out how to care for myself. if i'm worth caring for. if he understands just how much care i need sometimes. if i should even ask for such care from someone other than myself?

unfortunately the answer is far too clear when it comes to my sweet westley. he isn't here. he's just not here. and i'm not sure he can be here the way that i crave. for a warm body next to me to lull to sleep. for a kind word or a sweet glance when i'm on the verge of tears. for a conversation that will get me out of my head and back to a place where i can listen to my real voice, not the ugly post grunge 40something in my head. she's ugly and i don't like how she treats me.

instead i told him. i told him how disappointed and hurt and angry i am that i'm never at the top of his to do list. i suggested we take a break and see where things unfold. see where i fit into his world. where i fit into my own. and you know what...i deserve more. i deserve to be the center of my life. i deserve to be the center of my own fucking life and i deserve companionship and love and support. but who am i to look for it in someone else, through someone else? who am i to demand such a powerful love when i can't love myself in that same way? i mean really...what the fuck! i know it's not in someone else, even the love that he give and that has become a part of me. i have it within me. yes, i still see there being a real problem when it comes to feeling like i'm part of his everyday but it's my problem, not his.

when push comes to shove, i have it deep within me. under the ugly courtney love voice is a melodic, powerful voice that resonates and pushes her out. it's loud, it's fucking dial goes way past eleven and although i can't put a name to the voice, i know her. she tells me that i'm loved and that i contain a multitude. that i'm fine just as i am and that all of this, all of this that we do everyday to stay above water, is for a great reason. a greater reason than i will ever understand and that i need to trust the process, not just the immediate result. but fuck, it's so hard sometimes. sometimes i just have to have my mini-breakdown and say "i want the entire story, straight up, in front of me for me to control and know and see and feel and touch and understand".

so tonight i'm not dulling the pain or the voices with a pint of mint chocolate chip...although a swiss cake roll would be my fucking bitch if i weren't already in my jammies!!! instead i'm writing about how i feel. i'm crying, i'm weeping, i'm beating my fist into my pillow and i'm feeling all of it. i'm writing about being hurt and feeling ignored. by him and by myself. enough already. i won't be ignored, i won't be a burden, i refuse to be a martyr and i refuse to be anything less than iris.

for whatever reason, i want to run. i want to run and feel it and ache and become breathless and feel it and feel it and feel it. all of it. i think it's time i start caring. i want to care.

from salmon to mint chocolate chip....

for dinner, this evening, i had a maple glazed salmon over kale that had been cooked with pinenuts and garlic. it was amazing. during the dinner i had three glasses of "house" merlot which was anything but house. it was steele merlot and it was fucking good. at the end of the night i wasn't sure how i would get home. i couldn't help but hold onto my dinner date for dear life, not wanting to let go of his hug because it felt like a person. like a companion. was i too drunk to drive? was i still hungry? was i full? was i fucked?

all great questions and i'm now in a semi-sober position in which to respond. before i forget...this is the first time i've ever blogged while intoxicated. ever. fer realz. i've never made a decision to blog after having a few beverages but tonight seems especially fitting. i feel like all my thoughts and emotions have risen to the surface like the fat off of the gravy at thanksgiving dinner. separated, coagulated and divided in a real way...not just in my way.

so here i sit. buzzed. okay, nevermind. inebriated. not buzzed. buzzed is an understatement. and on top of it all, i have a ton on my mind. from new frontiers and opportunities at work to my physical well being to the man i thought i would love forever, well, nothing seems real anymore. i went to dinner tonight with a great friend, a good friend, a male friend that i love and respect. there's no sexual tension. it's just us being us and i love having a male friend again that can relate to me, understand me, laugh at me and with me. and as we were talking, as we are discussing what we want out of life, out of our "mates, i discovered something real and yet highly uncomfortable.

i have a crazy fucking idea of what i want!!! i want someone with whom to spend my life, to share my joy with. to sit and watch a goofy fucking will farrell movie, someone to make me a romantic dinner, someone to pull my hair and fuck me like they stole me, someone to help fold laundry, someone to cook with, someone to love and someone to love me. isn't that what we all want? the ultimate partner that will provide all the parts of us with all the parts we want? i mean really. who has that?

i don't. i have a wonderful man in justin, who loves me and treats me as if i'm the only woman in the world, but only when he can. otherwise i'm on my own. what does that mean? i'm on my own? i watch stupid movies alone, i eat dinner alone, i fold laundry alone. and i'm not happy. i'm fine with being independent but being lonely, being lonely when it hurts....i'm not happy.

what i've come to realize is that if i'm unhappy there are a few things that can happen. 1. i can remain unhappy. 2. i can do something to change it.

we all know i'm all too familiar with option #1 and it is no longer an option. NO LONGER AN OPTION.

option #2, however, is something i'm considering...and trying to figure out. what can i do to change it? do i move forward with this wonderful man yet stand my ground and demand more time, more attention, more of what i need to thrive? or is it the opposite. do i demand that i have more time to myself, more attention for myself, more time to figure out what i really need to thrive as an individual.

what a strange and empowering question. one that is muffled by a pint of mint chocolate chip followed by a pint of orange swirl sherbert. between the 2 pints of ice cream, the glazed salmon and the tears, hopefully there will be a new day tomorrow that will continue to open me, enrich me and lead me to an answer. what do i really want and what do i really need. fuck if i know!!!

2012 begins...

ah yes. we meet again my dear blog. i've been struggling for months trying to write. not figuring out what to write but how to write it. i suppose i could call it writers block...if i considered myself a writer. but i don't so i'm referring to it as "expressive" block. after all, that's the part that has had me stumped and without words for a while. my expressiveness has nowhere to go and even if it did, has lost it's map.

instead i'm sitting down tonight, on this second day of 2012, and just gonna let it go. like the good old days, for those folks who have read my entire blog. i have been know to sit down from time to time and just let it all go. all the fucks, all the fears, all the loathing and hate and love and sin and life just pours out of me and onto my little virtual paper. and it feels so cleansing when i'm able to be that in touch with myself.

you see, the turning of another year has left me stumped. where am i in my life? who is that woman in the mirror that i see everyday? where is she going in such a rush? why can't she eat just one cookie? so many questions and it all seems like a blur.

here goes nothing: i had no job, no prospects, no direction. i wanted a home to call my own and nothing else. i waited and waited and waited some more for the house, then i got it, then i started to fix it, and paint it, and fix it some more, and paint it some more and then i moved in, and then it all fell quiet for a short while. then i decided it was time to seek out what i needed next. i got a job. a good job. a part time job in a contemporary art museum, i worked, nights, weekends, days, whenever and wherever they needed me. and they liked me. they even promoted me and will likely be doing it again soon. i had a financial awakening and gave my mother all of my bills, past, present, future and asked for her help. she helped and has been pivotal in my spending habits being scaled back. i'm more comfortable, happier, more free financially than in my entire adult life. it fucking kicks ass knowing i'm going to be alright. i started working more. a bunch more. the kids finished school and the summer began. one week with me, one week with sperm donor and it was exhausting, frustrating and altogether uncomfortable. until finally it was comfortable. i've given up on trying to control what happens when they are with him. only focusing on the time i have with them. again, such relief from that stress i can't express it. my sweet westley and i celebrated 2 years since we indulged in that wonderful pulled pork sammich lunch in july. things are still magical but more complicated. real life romance is difficult to protect and maintain. but i love him and i still get those silly butterflies when he kisses me just so. kids went back to school in the fall, i've been running from here to there to here and then back to there. work. school. activities. laundry...oh, the fucking laundry. i'm over it. i've decided that hell is just a big laundromat with piles and piles of dirty laundry that never gets any smaller. halloween, thanksgiving, christmas holidays and now a new year begins - and there's still a shit-ton of laundry to do - but i digress.

somewhere in the middle of it all, i've maintained my sanity (partially), i've continued to be medicated for my depression and anxiety but you know what, i don't feel nearly as anxious, or as frequently uncomfortable. i'm still in love and loved, i struggle with relationships and feeling accepted but it's starting to feel normal, the eating has continued but becomes less and less a part of my daily life. granted, i'm no supermodel but i'm coming to terms with the fact that it will take time. lots and lots of time. it took me 15 years to put it on.....it's not coming off in 1 year. i've rekindled and maintained some amazing friendships, i've watched as my children have grown, i've watched as i've grown, i'm working, i have some incredible opportunities on these spinning plates and i'm in a place in my life where things are finally beginning to gel a little. there's still lots of cracks and wiggles and weirdness but that's just fucking life. no way around it. if you want the great stuff, the a-ha moments in life, you have to come to terms with all the other things that go along with it. the ugliness, the selfishness, the criticism, the self doubt, the anger, the resentment but what you end up getting, or at least what i've received this year, is enlightenment, love, understanding, beauty, humor, forgiveness and what it means to be alive. truly alive and owning your energy, your life, yourself.

my new years resolution: continue to live. one fucking day at a time. so far, it's turning out to be a beautiful ride and one that was well worth the wait!