Heya, Monster.

A SoberBlog by a TallWoman.

Archive for the tag “Frustration”

Dear Dad,

Or Dear PapaBear. ūüôā

Or Dear Man-Who-Believes-In-Me-Most.

Or Dear Man-I-Look-For-In-Every-Other-Man-I-Meet-Or-Know.

Or Dear Most-Generous-Kind-Man-In-My-World.

You keep bugging me for a blog post. And, well? Here it is. *smile* Just for you (with a few other worldly people dropping in to say ‘hi,’ of course).

As you know, I am still sober. 2+ years now, and doing well. So well, that I drifted from my blog, because I wasn’t thinking about SOBRIETY so much anymore. I had gotten into the swing of things (as a golfer, you can appreciate this metaphor *smile* (Although, maybe it is actually a reference to monkeys in trees? (Not sure. I will have to Google it))). I was feeling pretty even, pretty confident about my new job, my life with husband, my life with kids, my life with friends. It was all feeling good.

But then, it all of a sudden wasn’t. About a month ago. I got real shook up because the hubs said he wasn’t happy. That I wasn’t giving him any energy. That I seemed really depressed and angry. That I wasn’t loving the kids, but rather, I was super-short-tempered with them all of the time. That ‘We’ were not good. That he was feeling really distant, and maybe even separate from me, and all because of the way I treated him, or didn’t treat him rather. He said we were really good roommates, but not partners. He said I didn’t talk to him, or touch him. Anytime he would reach for me, I would swat him away, or more often than not, say ‘I’m busy.’ I didn’t have time for him in my world. I didn’t have energy. He wondered if I liked him at all.

Holy shit. Did that wake me up.

My first instinct was to defend.

Wait, no. That can’t be right. I’m the best I’ve ever been! (I actually said those words.) And then I went on with a list about how great I was – Job, check! New job, check! Current show, check! Kids, mostly check! Learning new things (sewing), check! And the hubs? Well, he made the list only in the way that I don’t worry about him. I trust us and what we have, and I see us as pretty separate, mostly because of how our work takes us away from each other so regularly (theatre). So, Hubs? Semi-middling-waffling-check. (No exclamation point.)

So we walked away from each other, not seething from a blowout fight, or crying hysterically from a dramatic moment. No. I can’t speak for him, but for me? I walked away feeling hollow – like my stomach had been scooped out and there was nothing left inside of me. Shaken, sad, confused. If that’s how he felt, then that’s how he felt.

Over a week, I reflected and watched and tried to understand where his concerns and feelings were coming from. It was an interesting and odd week. We walked on eggshells with one another, but then would talk about the eggshells, and then things would feel if not normal, then at least honest. We talked more that week. When I got home, I would find him and talk with him about the day. We were a little awkward-distant in our text messages, but then we were also thoughtful and considerate of one another. To use a weird metaphor, it felt like we were fourteen-year-olds dancing a slow dance. Awkward steps. Happy, but unsure of ourselves. Hyper-aware of one another and ourselves.

It was a hard week, but a good week. I realized, he was right. (He usually is. Psh.) I was without a doubt, one-hundred-and-fifty-seven percent taking him for granted. I trusted him and trusted in us so much, that I forgot that marriage needs work. And time. And energy. Of course it does! Of course he needs my attention. I was being a selfish, solely-functioning woman of the world. I was conquering all that I saw, but forgetting the treasures I had right there at home. (That metaphor was a little squishy and cliche, but right? It’s the truth!)

And most of all? … Well, sort of ‘most.’ He/The Hubs was the Most. His feelings in our relationship were the most important in that moment of upside-down.

Secondarily-Most of all, was the feedback from this man who loves me most in the world (tied with you, Dad *smile*), and here he was saying I was depressed. I was angry. I seemed really bad. And my reaction was disbelief and surprise. Over that week, I started reflecting on what he had said, and really trying to notice myself and my ways. ….. I had caught myself isolating in May/June, but I thought maybe that was old drinking habits trying to take hold. Not that I would drink, but that my tendency is to isolate. But then, I noticed I had been having loads of trouble waking up for the last three months, ever since my spring show closed. During the school year, I wouldn’t wake up until 7:30 most days (school starts at 8:30), and during the summer I was sleeping until 9 am every day, no matter if I put my alarm on or not. I had ballooned up again and couldn’t get control of my eating. I kept thinking, ‘I deserve this.’ *munch* ‘This is my reward.’ *bite* ‘I’m not drinking, so I can afford these calories.’ *gobblecrunchsmackswallow* Over and over and over again. Worst of all? I was really angry with my kids. Short-tempered. Short-fused. Over stupid shit. ….. Who was this woman? And how in the heck did she get here when I was feeling so strong, vibrant, and amazing in my Working Life?!

GAH. Life is so dang hard to balance. GodDamnFuckAssShitFuckFuck.

Okay, so the Hubs was right. Absolutely. No disputing him. All the facts were there. I just hadn’t seen them at all. I felt them and was going through them, but gah. Depression. Addiction. They’re hard to see when I’m in the middle of them, which is such a weird factoid. One would think that being in the middle of a months-long depression, a person would eventually get the kick-to-the-head they would need to realize, ‘Oh! I’m depressed!’ But no. For myself, I go through my days slogging and dragging, while simultaneously kicking ass at my job, because over-achiever? Driven? WonderWoman? But then on the flip-side miss the clues of me dropping my HomeLife, my SweetLife, my LifeLife…. And letting it drift through my fingers without even noticing. Or, really? Without even knowing.

So. Self-reflection? Check.

And then, I did what I was taught to do by you, PapaBear, and by MoM. … Take care of shit! (I wasn’t really that flippant, but for purposes of this post, and, if I’m super-honest, to sound a little cooler than I actually am, I am pretending to be a little flip. But only pretending. (For real? I was core-shook and scared.))

So, that same week, I actually had a 4-month check-up set-up with my psychiatrist. I unloaded on her in our 10-minute session. She was very sympathetic and she asked if I needed help on the meds side, but at that point, I hadn’t got down to the deepest layer. So I said, ‘No.’ I thought I was just crappy because my Life was suddenly horribly crappy. I didn’t think there was more to it. (Hey, Monster: Wrong!)

I kept on, keeping on. I started working on fixing the little things. Being more aware of the Hubs. Being more aware of the Babes. Being aware of my isolating/drinking behavior.

Things started to feel like they were moving in a better-than-bad direction, so that was good. My summer show opened. The Hubs and I were doing better-ish. I was doing things with friends. My Life was looking better. Looking Good. But it still wasn’t feeling good-good. You and Mom came down for the show, and if you remember, Dad? I was just cranky. Okay, but not Good. Not great. I had started noticing I was also still really short and quick-tempered with the babes. There was a low-lying feeling of dissatisfaction permeating most of my minutes.

The ‘it’… The Ick didn’t start lifting until I got out of here. Until I got to my hometown with you and Mom and got some time to just rest and not rush. To relax. To just Be in the place and the Home that felt good and felt soothing and healing. And so much of that goodness comes from feeling cared for and loved. I know how lucky I am to have had a great childhood and adulthood with two parents who love me and care for me and put up with me and my ways from time to time (let’s be honest, right, PapaBear? *smile*). Being Home always spins me back to Center somehow. It realigns me and my two poles, if you will. Ha. There is the gift of not having to worry. Not having to ‘Be’ for anyone. I mean, yes, I am still a mother. But somehow, being in the primary role of Daughter while I am with you and Mom is really comforting in a way I don’t get when I am a Woman of the World. So thank you for that. Times infinity.

While I was home with you, I realized I hadn’t been Good through and through, and I caught myself getting sharp with the Babes still, too. So I finally picked up that book you kept telling me about – The Happiness Project – and I started to read it. I am only three chapters into it still, but I while I read, I kept and keep thinking about how profoundly it touched you and where you were those few years ago, when you were LowLow. And some of the beginning stuff is basic and good for just Life and living. It’s made me look and see where I could prioritize myself and my needs (Hungry-Angry-Lonely-Tired, anyone?). It’s reminded me to step outside of myself and Give, as opposed to looking for what I might Get. And honestly? It’s just made me happy knowing how lifted up you felt after reading it.

As things were going now, I felt the gears start moving a little better and a little less muckity-muck. And with the layer of ‘Hmph-ness’ still somewhere inside of me, I thought, ‘Nope. I need more Help.’ And so? I upped my meds. Not a lot, since I was already taking basically the lowest dose one could really take. (I often wonder as someone who is very susceptible to meds and their affects, do I make doctors scratch their heads that I can actually feel what I feel from meds? Kind of like the Princess and the Pea. …. I wonder if they wonder if I’m faking it. Or if I am actually feeling it, or if it’s in my head. …. Anyway. Another post.) So, yes. I upped my dose by milligrams, and? About five days later? The crud and the crap and the junk? It kind of left. Just lifted. … I mean, Life is still up and down, and the children still drive me batshit-crazy sometimes, but I don’t hit the top of my Anger Meter when I deal with them. I lost my temper yesterday, and do you know what? I gave myself a timeout. And it was a really good choice. Woot. Go, Me. *smile*

I don’t know. Sometimes (Read: ALL the Time) I feel like I can do things all by myself. And do you know? I am going to call ‘Bullshit!’ on myself. Because I can’t. People can’t. We’re not built that way. We’re not meant to be that way. Looking back, I see the steps and the incremental improvements I made by adjusting myself and my world slightly and differently from day to day, and honestly? Yes. I absolutely got a little better, and truly, I thought I was better-better. But until I stepped away from my Regular, I couldn’t see the fact that I was Not. Having the space and the love and the support from you and Mom, even though neither of you even knows that that is what you give me without even trying, I finally saw where I wanted to be and that I was Not There Yet.

PapaBear and Friends, this is seeming to be more of a BiPolar-Post than an Addiction-Post. However, I will say, to those of you new to Ye Ol’ Blogge here, that for me? They go hand in hand. I am no longer a drinking-drinker. I got rid of that garbage (Woo-hoo!). But? I did not get rid of the garbage that comes with the garbage. All of the isolating, moodiness, rewarding, woe is me, I deserve this, resentful, yucko crapola that is Addiction down to its bones. That shit? That shit is still around. Added to the fact that I am a BiPolar, who has of late favored my depression more so than my mania, and you have a lovely combination that simmered, stirred, and served is enough to knock any optimistic-peace-loving-goody-two-shoes onto her ballet-flatted ass.

I am SO beyond lucky that I have people who love me. People who love themselves. People who are honest. People who care. And sometimes? PeopleLikeMe need a little more help than even those awesome ones. We need a therapist to talk to, or we need daily exercise (okay, we all do need that (Goals)), or we need a pill or a combination of pills.

And the hardest part of it all? Is getting off our cute little butts and going out there and getting the help we need. Dad, I always laugh when I think of you telling me I am the dumbest smart person you know (when I started smoking (Update All: I quit 10 years ago))…. But I always think of that because You Were Honest. And you Love Me. And? It always. Seriously, ALWAYS gets me off my ass to do the thing I think is stupid because it is the smart thing to do and I just don’t want to (whiny-whiner voice). Or, because I think, ‘It’s not fair!’ (Also whiny-whiner voice.) And just this last visit, Mom said to me, ‘Well, I’ve just learned that Life isn’t fair, so I can stop griping about it and just get on.’ YES. Life isn’t fair because I’m BiPolar and I’m Addicted and I’ve got a temper and I’m too tall and blahblahblahblah ….. It isn’t fair, but let’s get the ThisThatIsNow figured out Now, right? *smile*

I learned that from YOU, Dad. You and Mom.

And oh, my dear Lord, has it …. Have YOU …. saved me a million-and-one times.

Day 780, Thank you and I love you.* Your, -HM.

p.s. Hope you liked your post. *smile*

efa5c5c44c373fd628bfc25e75049f5b--go-home-and-love-your-family-if-you-want-to-change-the-world-go-home.jpg

You changed my world, PapaBear.*

October Road.

It’s early morning. I can her our grandmother¬†clock ticking. My family is tucked in their beds – mostly. My daughter stole her way into ours, which was the impetus for me getting out of bed, and thus, finding myself here in my chair with a hot cup of coffee. I’m quite happy she did. I love starting my days off a little earlier than everyone else, reading, and just waking up on my own. It’s nice to be awake and to have some time and space just for me.

I’ve been feeling this way – this relaxed, contemplative way most of this past¬†week. On the one ¬†hand it’s very nice because my brain has stopped going a thousand miles a minute every second of the day. With the new job, I didn’t realize until I had stopped spinning, that I was in a constant state of stress and anxiety. I was trying to race as fast as I could to write curriculum, clean, grade, plan, collaborate, learn the community, organize, and take stock, that I didn’t even notice how hard I was working to stay caught up with even the most basic responsibilities of getting through each day¬†and doing what I was hired to do – teach.

This is my sixteenth year as a teacher, but this new job is really Brand. Spankin’. New. I am writing it from the ground up, which is exciting to do, because I and my partner are designing a theatre program to follow students through each of their elementary and secondary years a child’s entire elementary and secondary school years. The structure before was a bit too nebulous and focused on Fun. I am definitely not opposed to fun, however I want kids to be challenged and to grow as artists.¬†It’s exciting, and I know in the coming years, this planning will do the program a lot of good, and help us to create a lot of depth. However, I am a little frustrated because I am covering basics with most of my students at every grade level, so that next year, I will have to write even more curriculum once we have students on the same page and with the same skill sets.

Then, I look around my space and in my rooms, and I just see a Mess. Granted, it is entirely my own fault because it was my idea to flip the costume and prop room inside-out, as well as the library….. Yeah, it’s a mess. Ha. And I know, from growing up with my father, whenever I was feeling stressed, he would tell me to clean my room so that my mind would feel better. A good rule of thumb, as long as one has the time and the energy to do so. *smile* I have kept my office quite clean so that I have a space I can escape to, but…. Yeah. Maybe I will work on prioritizing the other rooms again so that I don’t feel trapped underneath a mountain of Theatre Things.

This post is sounding quite negative, but overall, I am feeling better than I was. I should have written more last week, but I was feeling tired and sad and …. Oh, wanting to isolate. Dagnabbit. Stupid human tricks that keep repeating themselves. Argh.

Anyway, the other feeling I’ve been really having trouble with is melancholy. The longer I am at my new job (which, even though is overwhelming, I am really loving – and I’m not just saying that as a¬†perfectionist in order to appear¬†perfect to the outside world – I truly love it and the students and the people), the more and more Real it feels that I have lost my old job and my old community. With the fall weather exacerbating everything, I just feel Sad. And lonely. The communication from my old people has been little to none, which further breaks my heart. And I know everyone is as busy as I am, or more so, but it just makes me sad. I definitely feel like I am grieving again in many ways. The two months of grief and franticness and loneliness surrounding the¬†initial news of my job loss in April seems to almost be repeating itself from August to September to now.

However, like I said above, I feel like I am stepping out on the other side of those feelings of sadness and spinning my wheels. I am still definitely in there. It’s not a quick fix by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I can now see where I was and what I am moving away from. Why can’t we see our full situation when we are in the thick of things? Is it because we don’t have perspective? Because we are too close to it all?

Day 496,¬†a little James to walk with me today and to¬†make the day brighter….

 

Sick of the Sick.

My, oh, My. Our household cannot catch a break! Since our babygirl is now a kindergartner, she is in a (cess)pool of new people and new germs. While I, at the same time, am a new teacher, and am similarly surrounded by said (cess)pool of new people and new germs. We have been in-session for the past 6 weeks, and we have lost 3 of our weekends and several weekdays due to calling in ‘sick.’

Argh.

This is round 4 for my girl and myself. Our boy (3-years old) keeps catching it from one or the other¬†of us. It is like a merry-go-round…. Ridiculous.

This weekend, my daughter and I were basically quarantined from Friday night until this morning around 11 am. Being sick and taking care of someone who is sick is not the easiest thing in the world. However, I found my adrenaline would kick in when my girl needed me (needs me), so in some ways, it makes my illness less pressing. It’s interesting how our bodies are biologically programmed to be able to prioritize someone else’s needs over our own, isn’t it? I’m just thankful it happens at all. Yesterday, I had practically rolled myself into a ball of shivers, chills, and aches. But anytime she needed me (for strep test, x-rays, blood-draw which went horribly bad, followed by a massaged finger-prick (any 5 year old’s worst nightmare)), it all dissipated to some extent so that I could care for her. Of course, my symptoms came back eventually, but for those important moments, I was mostly okay and could help her.

images-2

In other news, the no drinking is still going okay, but I have had the craziest, strongest urges for a cigarette these past 2 weeks. I haven’t acted on the impulse, but it is so weird to suddenly be craving something I haven’t for 8 years. Maybe it’s the stress. My stress is through the roof with school, classes, making over spaces, parent-teacher conferences, etc. I am just maxed out. A lot of bubble water is being consumed,¬†and swear words are being used.

Day 481, Still here. Still kickin’.

p.s. The book below is one of my favorites. So sweet. So comforting.images-1

 

Hello, Out There.

Hello, friends. It’s been a little while. Yow. Time passes when you’re busy doing stuff, doesn’t it? I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and checking in pretty regularly on WP to read your words and journeys. I just haven’t had the chance to sit down and write you my own epistle until now. Sitting feels good. *smile* As does writing you. *clickityclack*

1585255_20d41d3bb1_z

So, the End of Shows went beautifully. Both were well-received and well-attended. The Shakespeare show (Midsummer) was love-ily to have because it kept me grounded and connected to both my past, present, and future (an 18-year history with the company, as well as looking forward to directing and being with my favorite people again next season/summer). While on the other hand, the mega-musical marked a significant Ending because it was the last show I will direct at my now-former school. The show itself was strong, vibrant, funny, and a little naughty. I definitely felt I went out with a Bang!

Of course, the Universe is always there to remind in so many different ways that I am not in control, nor can I, nor should I try to control the world around me. With all the anxiety surfacing inside me this past month around the closing of my shows, the Job being well-and-truly final, readying our house for the market, looking towards starting the new-*sparkly* Job, trying to spend time with my sister-who-was-in-town-from-Australia-during-my-busiest-two-weeks-of-the-summer, leaving for vacation, and now about to hit the ground running with the new job and the house….. Well? My anxiety has just climbed and climbed and climbed. And in each of those pockets of Life, the Universe has aptly put me in my place again and again.

First. My beautiful, amazing, phenomenal sister left 3 Thursdays ago. We have a tradition in our family, that whenever someone is driving away (the Leaver), the people staying behind (the Leavees) wave until they can’t see the car any longer. And, weather be damned, the Leaver/s¬†in the car roll their windows down and wave back until they can’t see the Leavees any longer, too. So, with this tradition well-established, my sister hopped into her rental car, rolled down her window, got the last teary hugs and kisses from me and the babes, and then turned to go down the driveway. When what should appear? You guessed it! The Universe. In the form of a school bus (in July). It came around the corner and then pulled to the side of the road with its red stop sign shining, and its red lights flashing…. We just laughed. Because what else could we do? It was perfect. And funny. And gave us the chance for a few more hugs and kisses.

Second. The last show of the mega-musical…. All day, I just had nerves. It felt Epic. Important. One of those I-am-going-to-remember-this-event-for-the-rest-of-my-life-type things. So here we are chugging along, I’m watching the show and just enjoying it and laughing at all sorts of new moments in the show, and then. Crash. At the end of intermission as I’m about to start the show again, the hubs (who was in the show) comes up to me and says another actor and the pit say the music director is either drunk or high. Oh, what?! Gah. So I race back to speak with the person and to see if they’re right. …. Yep. Sure as shit. …. He is so far gone, I don’t know that even speaking with him would do any good. I pulled a musician aside and asked him to push the show, the cues forward if the MD dropped the ball on anything. So the whole second half, I’m just holding on and hoping we make it through the show without any mishaps (we did), and also trying to figure out what to do about this man. It was just odd. In all my years, I have not had this happen to me in any way, shape, or form. And then for it to be my last. I don’t know, it felt odd, though not unexpected (I wrote about my misgivings in an earlier post). With all the adrenaline now wrapped around this problem, the significance of it being my Last Show dropped. And a bit of regret, following the show, I didn’t handle the situation very well. I skirted around it, made sure he had a ride, etc. However, I followed up the next day and feel much better about that. I know if we had had a Sunday closing, I would have fired him and told him not to come back. But since we closed on a Saturday, I just wanted to get through the show, and we did. On the phone the next day, I was angry and sad, particularly because this is a show at a high school with teenagers in the production. The choice to get drunk before a (professional) gig felt incredibly selfish. He could have compromised the entire production. …. I asked him if he thought this was a problem, and he said that he did think so, that his mother was very sick, and not for the first time. Then, I offered to send him some resources via email, and promised that I would follow-up with him in a few weeks to see how he was doing. I penalized his pay, and then later, apologized to the teenagers for not being more assertive the night before. I apologized for the MD’s behavior, and told them what he did was not okay. It was messy, but at least I followed up on all of the loose ends.

Following all of this, my mother came down for a week and helped me get a ton of stuff done with the house. The hubs and I have one more week to work, and then, I am hoping we are set to show our house starting next week. Keep your fingers crossed.

Third. This past week, we went out of town to the shores of Lake Superior. Beautiful. Majestic. Mighty. …. But my anxiety was really high. Incredibly high. About death. About losing my babes – especially in the midst of the water, which just seemed incredibly powerful. I know I was driving the hubs nuts on one particular day, because he had them in the water amidst these big waves. I just saw the immensity of the water stretching out behind them, and the strength of each wave as it rolled in and hit them, and I was just So. Scared. That they would be knocked over. Pulled out before we could reach them. Before I could save them. … So all this, and then? Oh, there’s the Universe again. This time it showed up in the form of sister-brother battles. Our 3-year old kicked his sister’s head, which banged the edge of a coffee table. Stitches at a small-town¬†ER. Ah, vacation memories…. But really. It acted as a good reminder that I really can’t control anything. And I know that deep down, but it doesn’t always stop me from wanting to try. Letting go is a lesson I need to learn again and again and again it seems. … Also? The accident freed me up and helped me to embrace the waves and the water with my family later that day. We got splashed and soaked, and we laughed and held onto one another.

Day 432, Thanks, Universe. I needed that.

quote-say-yes-to-your-universe_15022-1.png

 

A Few Randoms.

Heya.*

So, cool thing happened last week. I needed to meet a possible collaborator to see if we would be a good fit or not. He suggested a 9 pm, over drinks kind of a meeting, and named a place. I said, ‘I’m don’t drink, but do they serve food? I’m really good at eating.’ And all of a sudden? Whoosh! Right past the awkward. I thought it was simple and effective.

Of course, I probably confused the crap out of him when he arrived and I had a frosty beer in my glass. I didn’t clarify that it was NA, but hm. Who knows what he thought?

Then, oddly enough, (fast forward to this weekend/today – I hired him)…. We were sitting next to one another for our work this afternoon, and the whole entire time, I kept getting these huge whiffs of alcohol. Gah. It was very disconcerting – 1. To deal with, and 2. To wonder if this was going to be a regular occurrence after a Friday or Saturday night?, and 3. This used to be me! And I always thought I was so good at covering it. Yeah, right.

Other random, Facebook is kind of a crazy-summer-happy-time-drinks trap right now. I am considering stepping away more significantly again for awhile. I fell off my FB-free-wagon last month and have begun to check it on a daily basis. But? Thinking I might return to my every-2-3-weeks-visit type arrangement I had going most of this past year…. Anyone else experiencing high levels of fun, sun, & booze? Argh. Jealousy is a word and a feeling that comes up a little too quickly this week, so yeah. A break is inevitable. At least for awhile, I think.

Day 348, Odds & Ends.

imgres

FKCK.

Or, in layman’s terms: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

I have just edited my first draft/post because I am that worried about my current situation – and I’m ANONYMOUS.

Without giving any details…¬†I truly thought Friday was the worst it could possibly be. There was solace that I had made it through that day, so then I can make it through most anything. But then today shows up and tricks me, because nope! There is a ‘Worse-Yet’ scenario to this shit-show. And I can’t even tell you what it is because¬†I am so scared of upper management¬†repercussions, I don’t feel comfortable writing about it in vague terms here.

I cannot believe this. I am writing because I want to connect with all of you and vent my frustrations, but I can’t even give them words for fear of repercussions. And did I mention? I’m ANONYMOUS.

Gah. I feel like…. I have no words.

Am I crazy? I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. I know I’m in theatre, but I really cannot stand real-life drama. Truly. I can’t. This is above and beyond anything I have experienced before. I am being Systematically. Shut. Down.

And?

It’s Day 300. Part of me is so angry that this happened today of all days. They have stolen my grieving process, they’ve stolen my voice, and they have stolen one small bit of joy I have been looking forward to for 299 days.

I am ready for the shit to stop being shitty.

maxresdefault-1

I would love to be saved right now.

Free Fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s where I am right now.

 

 

Just falling.

 

 

I lost my job today.

*punch*

Well, I lost the chance at renewing my contract for next school year.

I’m heartbroken. Sad. Mad. Thankful not to have to wonder.

I feel still and anxious all at the same time.

My stomach will not settle down. It feels like it’s in an everlasting flip.

So much I don’t know. Where will I be? Will I be enough? Will I find something?

And then, moreso, on top of it all…. What about these kids? My students? My community? All of whom I’ve fought for and created and envisioned and worked SO HARD for. I’m asked to walk away from my Heart. The reason why I breathe. Truly. It is the most amazing job¬†vocation calling. It is what I am meant to do and to be.

I walked in completely ignorant. A college grad (22!) and was just launched into this world of education and creativity. The more I learned, the more I loved. I am established. I am confident. I am doing the best work I’ve ever done. Truly. I can say that with confidence. I am building relationships and working on committees to create community and safe spaces, all while challenging the world and its isms. And I’m being asked to leave. Gah! I am just hurt and crushed. In shock. In pain.

 

 

 

And I am so so sad.

Day Something, I’m still sober. More later. I’m still sober. Before I would have drank these tears away, but today I just keep crying them, and it hurts so much.

BossTalk Update.

Good morning, everyone.* First off, thank you for your wonderful words.

The meeting went… Okay. …. I was in quite a bit of trouble for initiating something without asking for permission first. (Sorry to be vague.)

I’m heartbroken, because the initiative I created was/IS really important to me. I think our community could benefit from it in big ways. And yes, of course there would be obstacles and maybe some not great moments, but overall? It could be great! If we would be brave and go there, but we’re not. …. Lastly, I am not someone who functions with fear as my guide, and I truly feel Fear is motivating decisions right now. That makes me incredibly sad.

I’m going to continue The Work, but am feeling underwhelmed with the lack of support by the higher ups.

On a related note, morale is incredibly low as quite a number of older employees have announced taking a retirement deal for the coming year. These teachers are incredible and inspiring, and it will feel like a very different school without them. I know budget is a huge concern, but man, is our school changing.

I miss the trust. And I miss the positive energy.

Day 277, A little wisdom from Madame Fey:

tina-fey-900

And an ‘Amen!’ from the Monster.*

A Sober Supper.

Well? The sober supper went well last night. We got to the church (where the AA group is hosted) relatively early.

My main¬†trouble was in the first ten¬†minutes we were sitting at a table, one of the few people there came up to me and ‘Godded’ me. Ugh. First, the assumption that I don’t have a belief system in place. Second, the God-push really drives me nuts and has turned¬†me off¬†from other¬†rooms in the past several months. I appreciate the guy’s interest in helping me, absolutely. But in the first ten minutes? How about you wait for the dessert and bad coffee? Or, I know, learn my name and a little bit about me? I see the guy’s devotion and eagerness for the program, so again, I appreciate that. But Whoa, Dude. Dial it back a notch.

Once the Goddy-ness subsided, the kids were happy and munched on a bunch of food. We had a pretty nice first hour as a family enjoying dinner – first the kids and then the hubs and myself. I organized us to eat in shifts thinking some adults would join us and visit, but no one did, so the hubs and I had our dinner together while the kids played under the table and ate Oreos.

The spread was nice (lasagna). The people were friendly, even if they didn’t sit with us.

Oh, yum.

Oh, yum.

As the dinner hour went on, the hubs and I kept waiting for the sitter to get into the kids’ room so that we could socialize, but she wasn’t there and she wasn’t there. We were under the impression she was going to watch the whole time, but I guess it makes sense (in retrospect) that she was there primarily for the speak-portion of the night. So, yep. Got the kids in the kids’ room finally, and then the speaker kicked in. He seemed pretty strong. He was very conscientious of leaving us with a practical message, which? We missed. About twenty-five minutes into the talk, I heard my boyo howling down the hallway, so I ran out and got him, and then brought him back in to listen to the speaker. He was okay for about ten more minutes, so then the hubs went out into the lobby area with the two babes (the girlio had left the sitter by that time, too), and I stayed to listen. But? I just felt guilty making him wait. So? After a couple more minutes, I decided it was just time to go. Grabbed our coats and walked out to them. As I left, the speaker said, “Scared another one away.”

And I really wanted to punch his fucking lights out.

Ska-Pow!

Ska-Pow!

The reason why I clicked into his talk was because he led with the observation of all the kids in the room, and how great they were there, and how¬†great it was that we were there for Them, as well as for Ourselves. What a gift it was to our kids that we were in those walls, attending those meetings, doing the work. And then for him to make some snide comment (the ‘tude was there in his voice), after he could see how hard the hubs and I were trying to stay invested and listening throughout, even with the disruptions….¬†Fuck me.¬†I guess I’m angry. And resentful? There’s some Big Book stuff on that. I just thought it was hypocritical. Blah.

At any rate, I¬†did¬†have a good time the majority of the evening. The two bros I had identified last week as being the most intimidating, were actually the two people who ended up chatting with the hubs and I, which was a really nice surprise. They make me want to go back today and visit the regular meeting. (The speaker from last night is not a regular member of the Sunday meeting, I don’t think, p.s.) So those two connections were nice surprises.

Alright. The anger is gone. Hope you’re all well.

Day 138, First Sober-Sponsored Event? Check.

I’m Here.

And I’m sober.

So that’s good.

i-am-here

Things in my little world have felt whirlwind-crazy for the past 5 weeks or so. In a quick nutshell-type blurt: Work has taken over almost everything and I’m not even directing yet; The administration change has everyone (including me) on edge and on our toes; My babes were both sick for two weeks; I was sick for two weeks, but still had to meet a ton of external expectations and deadlines; I’ve been white-knuckling my sobriety for about 3 weeks and feeling just pissed and angry about it most days; I’m worried with the seasonal change that I am feeling more depressed and anxious; And the biggest news is that my dad is in the hospital with bleeding ulcers and pneumonia.

That’s a shit-tonne, people. … Jeez. My eyelid is twitching right now just thinking about the list above.

Here’s the follow-up to all of that as I sit quietly in my parents’ front room, listening to the classic music station, and finally checking-in here after way too long…

  • Work things – administrative deadlines, etc. – seem to have been mostly met and finished. I’m in a good place now to prep for my shows coming up in about two weeks. So that’s good. I feel like my feet are under me again.
  • Regarding the new regime, well, that can’t be fixed. Like most of my coworkers, I am just slogging through and trying not to catch too much attention (always a hard challenge for a theatre person).
  • Babes are healthy again, and my youngest is looking forward to turning 3 on Tuesday. He can’t wait, because he will start preschool this Monday and celebrate his birthday all on the same day. I’m excited for him. He’s so eager to get to school and be like his big sister.
  • I am finally better, too. I had a virus that just kicked my ass day after day for two weeks. It was different from the kids – I’m so glad they didn’t have what I had. Man, did it suck. Plus, with everything happening at work, it made everything about 10 times as difficult.
  • Sobriety is still in effect, but again, does it suck the big one right now. I am angry, hostile, and pissed off about it. I know a lot of it has to do with not having time to be Here and connecting with all of You. So, it’s nice to show my face again. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed your wise words and ways. I haven’t had a drink, but I have probably considered it every day for the past 3 weeks. I have to say, it doesn’t make recovery very easy when my brain just wants to say ‘Fuck it!’ I haven’t. And I won’t. Not today.
  • The bipolarismness is being addressed.¬†I’ve been worried my meds aren’t working mood-wise, especially with the exacerbation of the loss of sunlight, so my psych upped my dose slightly yesterday. We’ll see if that helps. I’m just feeling low. I realize I’ve had a lot of shit going on this past month, so it is entirely possible it’s just Life that’s got me down, but I’d love to have the weight I feel on top of me lifted a bit. Being a functional alcoholic in my memory feel a lot like being a functional depressive without the ‘added bonus’ of forgetting and hiding on a daily basis. It’s just hard. And difficult. And I’d like some relief.
  • For my dear PapaBear, he was rushed to ICU on Tuesday night with bleeding ulcers. He had been sick for two days and thought it was the flu, but then at Urgent Care, they did some tests and discovered his white count was high, he was throwing up blood and had been for the past day and a half, and his blood pressure was incredibly low. In ICU, they were able to cauterize his lesions and gave him a transfusion, which raised his blood pressure significantly. While he was there, they also discovered he had pneumonia (probably explains the white cell rise), and have been putting him through his paces with a monstrous nebulizer every four hours, as well as other exercises. I drove the 5 hours north to be here with him and Mom, and I’m so glad I did. Just being in the same room with him after hearing about all that was happening to him feels so comforting. I’ll be here for another day or two, and we’ll see how his recovery is going. I’m happy to say he doesn’t have any pain, which is amazing. His body has just been put through the wringer. It needs time to rest and heal.

And that, my friends, is what is going on with Me. Over the next day or two, I am going to be reading your blogs, so be warned. *smile* Comments are a’comin’.

Day 129; Hour 3,104; Minute 186,283; Second 11,177,011… I’ve missed You.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: