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Solitary Me

10 Mar

It’s been two months since we moved. Hubby got a job & is working nearly 6 days a week. I’m so proud of him & know he’s much happier. I’m thankful that he’s able to get out & do what he loves.

I however am at home every day. I was ill throughout January & a good part of February. On top of all that I’m struggling with not having a friends close by. I feel so isolated from everything. Getting up every day is a challenge….some days I do really well & others not so much. My doctor put me on an anti-depressant & it is helping some. Today isn’t one of those days….today is a curled in a ball, blanket over my head, box of kleenex crumpled around me kind of day.

I feel like I might shatter into a million pieces like a porcelain doll handled carelessly. My breath is choked off & I feel like I’m lost, wandering in a barren dark space. The only thing that makes me feel anything good is when I feel Baby moving. That little person means so much to me & I can’t wait to hold him/her.

No idea why I started writing this actually….I haven’t had any interest in writing (or reading) these last months. Seems like all my inspiration (or whatever it was) has dried up, disappeared & gone for good. Maybe it’s living here on the prairie….the wind snatched my muse away on to a more deserving person.

Sorry this is so disjointed. I don’t even really know what to say except being solitary me hurts.

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Posted in What's in my Head

Jumbled

12 Nov

I’m jumbled up today like a 5000 piece puzzle scattered about. I woke up feeling sort of okay…a day off & I need it. After a somewhat leisurely start to the day it was off to visit quickly with some friends & a quick lunch date with another friend. It was nice to see them but I could feel the sadness creeping in.

Then I picked up my paycheck…after that nasty surprise (there’s a reason I’m quitting ‘cuz seriously for all the work I do there & I don’t even make $10/hr…) we headed home. By the time I walked in my front door the cold fingers of depression were wrapped firmly around my entire being. I attempted to sit in my chair but after about 42 seconds I could tell that wasn’t going to work. My gallbladder is aggravating me & I’m so tired these days that no amount of sleep makes me feel rested….so I did the only thing I could & got out of my clothes and into bed.

I thought I’d just lie there awhile & see if my blanket (I’ve had it since the day I was born) and the down comforter could help chase the soul chill away. Instead I drifted off, phone clutched in my right hand like a lifeline with nobody at the other end. I vaguely remember Abe coming to check on me & rubbing my back ’til I fell asleep again…I shudder to think how much more of a hot mess I’d be without him.

There are now only 9 working days until I am done at my job. It’s a relief in many ways because I’m not happy there. I don’t mind the customers, answering phones etc but let’s be honest a monkey could do my job. There is a satisfaction in helping a customer, fixing their little problems & knowing I can offer assistance when there is something bad that happens…after all that’s what a good insurance agent does. However I need something that challenges me, stretches me…without that I get bored and become at best a mediocre worker. I don’t enjoy that…I was taught to work hard & take pride it that. Now I don’t know what I’ll do.

Moving (yes in case I’ve failed to properly mention it we are moving.) is an overwhelming thing in my mind…it’s my great white whale at the moment. Abe has been slowly packing some things & I know that I need to start pitching in as best I am able. I think this weekend the photos will come down off the walls & the books will come off the shelves. Where we are going to go is something we haven’t figured out quite yet. We’re looking for places near Sioux Falls, SD so that Abe has plenty of job opportunities & hopefully steady work. I am looking for something VERY part time; preferably something I can do from home. Plus I’m hoping to find a doctor who can help me with this depression…and the insecurity that overwhelms me.

Yet I see the good things coming…being closer to my family whom I love so very much. Also we will be closer to Abe’s brother in Missouri which will be nice for them. I do hope they will be able to spend more time together. And there is much wild beauty on the prairies of my home…much I have not yet trained my camera or inner eye upon to study. I need to do a photo blog post of some of that from the last time I was down there.

My heart is torn, cracked & sore…I ache for the things I will miss. Not only the nature that surrounds me but the people. My sister-in-law Anne…my sister in fact. We have shared so many good & difficult times…and a lot of dressing rooms in Maurices. No matter our distance she will be close to my heart as will her precious boys who are like my own almost. I adore them to pieces & have so enjoyed being part of their lives in an everyday sort of way. It will take extra effort from now on but I don’t want to lose that connection….

So I sit here far too late, in my chair with the dogs napping & Abe playing Wii…crying because of the fullness of life–the joys that will come & the sorrow that lingers all jumbled together & rushing me over the sharp edges toward something which I can’t yet see.

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Posted in I should be in therapy, Musings, What's in my Head

Honest Scrap Award

10 Nov

For the love of Aunt Carrie’s corset I got my first ever blog award yesterday. My awesome friend Mary over at FitThisGirl was more than kind to award me one of her coveted 10. ”Becci!! I am nominating you for the Honest Scrap award!! I love your blog honest and raw humor, it is refreshing!”, says the cool girl with the rocking blog. Well I’m flattered & a little taken aback to be thus noticed. Anyway, I am here fulfilling my part of the bargain with a post of my own.

honestscrap1

The Rules

? “The Honest Scrap Award” must be shared!

? The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves.

? The recipient has to pass this prestigious award along to 10 more bloggers.

? Those 10 bloggers need to be notified they have received this award.

? Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog from where they received their award.

1. I am afraid of heights! I mean terrified, petrified, completely phobic about heights yet I still want to walk to the edge of the cliff & look down. I guess I’m trying to face my fear but it never seems to help…instead I’m just paralyzed at the edge of a cliff which seems like a bad thing….

2. I am also terrified of drowning…needless to say while I love the architecture of bridges crossing them can be my own personal Waterloo. The Aerial Lift Bridge in Duluth, MN is a classic example…I never get tired of looking at or photographing it. Crossing it is just plain out of the question….

Aerial Lift Bridge

walking under the Aerial Lift Bridge

3. I have 2 tattoos. One on each shoulder. My first tattoo is a head shot of Betty Boop & I’ve had it for something close to 12 years. My second tattoo is a grouping of 4 flowers…each represents a grandparent that Hubby & I have lost. I am anxious to get a 3rd tattoo which will be a representation of my life with Abe. If I’m lucky I would also like a 4th tattoo designed by Abe…I have to be patient & wait though as Abe has some ink of his own he’d like to have added on.

Betty Boop tattoo

flower tattoo

4. I am an incurable insomniac. Even though right now I’m so tired I’m sliding out of my skin I’m typing away on my laptop. It’s very hard for me to turn my brain off at the end of the day…even lying in bed trying to clear my mind often ends up having the opposite result. This will lead to me wide awake in the dark listening to Abe softly snore & wondering if I should have worn different shoes with a particular outfit when I was 14.

5. I am terrible at keeping my own secrets. Yours I will take to the grave (maybe I’ll tell Abe but you can trust him…he talks a lot less than I do) but mine I blurt out all the time. I want you to know what I’m getting you for your birthday/anniversary/Christmas etc so that you can be excited too.

6. I am slightly envious (ok, maybe I’m really envious but in a totally good way) of anybody who is an artist. I wish that I had the talent to paint, draw or sculpt. Unfortunately I can’t even draw a decent stick figure so I’m out of luck. I do however love the feeling of movement & swirl of emotion I get when looking at someone else’s creation. It’s a truly intimate thing to share what comes out on canvas or marble (or any other media) with an audience & I applaud those who do it.

7. Kids….I adore kids. There are few things I won’t do to earn a smile & laughter from a child. Nothing in this world is more fleeting & pure than the sound of a child or baby bubbling over with joy. It melts my heart every time.

8. Someday I want to own the following: a motorcycle, a horse, a sailboat & a late model Chevy Corvair convertible. Preferably all at the same time…yes I realize that it’s impractical because where exactly can one own a horse & sailboat and but them both to use? I have no idea but in my land of make-believe it’s not only possible but mandatory.

9. I knew (but wouldn’t admit) the first time I saw Abe that I would marry him. He picked me up at my apartment, walked me to his car & opened my door, holding it until I was in & then closing it for me. I leaned across to unlock his door & as I did that I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. How a nice quiet guy like him ever decided to put up with a crazy, insecure girl like me I will never know.

10. Books…what can I say? First off I guess I should mention that some people (looking pointedly at Abe) think I read fast. I don’t know why anybody would come to that conclusion…just because I can read & retain major portions of books of 500+ pages in a 24 hour period does not mean that I read fast. Seriously, didn’t all of you read the 7th Harry Potter in 18 hours? Second I should mention that since I have been a rabid, ravenous, rapacious reader since the age of 3. I vividly remember checking out the complete works of Shakespeare at age 10. Both the librarian & teacher looked at me as if I were mental…yet I devoured it–enraptured. I can read a book with a singular focus…blocking out all things around me (including natural disasters, fire drills & screaming in my ear).

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Posted in I AM, I should be in therapy, Musings, My Comptuer & Me, What's in my Head

A Little Bit of Patting My Own Back

23 Oct

As you may have noticed I don’t have a lot of positive stuff to say lately….tough is my first response to that observation. I’ve never been Ms. Positivity to begin with….the fact that things are craptastic right now hasn’t done anything to improve my outlook. For all you “count your blessings” people out there I say *blows raspberry* Jog On!

There is one small area that is going in the direction I want. I’m not going to look the gift (? really not so much a gift as my damn gallbladder…) horse in the mouth on this one but it seems I’m shrinking. I started out the year with the intent of getting into a better shape…well a more fit shape….I love looking like a girl & don’t want to lose all my nice round parts. However, I did decide that I needed to be more fit & have more stamina if I wanted to continue hike etc. So with a goal in mind & a WiiFit in my living room I embarked on my mission.

I did pretty good for a few months…slowly working up the length & intensity of my workouts until I was doing about an hour of rhythm boxing & step aerobics coupled with yoga. I felt pretty good about it too…coming home after a day in workhell & strapping on my Rykas, stepping on the Fit & off I’d go.

Then as spring progressed I started to feel more fatigued no matter how much sleep I got, stress piled up & my gallbladder bothered me to where I just couldn’t push myself to work out every day. It wasn’t long before the workouts came to a screeching halt. As you know I got a trip to the hospital in early August & that little “vacation” induced 2 weeks of nothing but clear liquids. Let me tell you that’ll make the scale seem friendlier in a hurry.

Anyway, now nearly 3 months later I’m still very careful what I eat (most of the time…if I do indulge in something it’s just a teeny bit ‘cuz the pain if I don’t would fell a hippo (which I’m resembling less all the time) so I avoid that like the plague). As a result I have shrunk a noticeable amount since January…I’m quite happy with the results. The slight downside (yet best indicator of my progress) is that none of my pants fit…I mean seriously it’s a little dangerous ‘cuz one good yank & the pants are at my ankles. Even the pair of jeans I bought that were 2 sizes smaller than my old ones are getting to be on the big side. I’m going to have to win the lottery at some point to get some better fitting attire…even if that means having everything I own altered to a smaller size.

I have a new goal in mind & part of that is to increase my flexibility with more yoga. Once I feel ok about having my picture taken (read NEVER, you can’t pay me enough to do it) I’ll post pics of me in my more compact size…. Overall though in spite of all the difficulties, struggles, depression & generally challenging times right now I feel like I deserve a little pat on the back.

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Posted in Clothes Make the Woman, What's in my Head

Familiarity Breeds….Fear of the Unknown

21 Oct

I don’t know what I’m doing…which for me is a huge problem. I always want to know where I’m headed. I like to have a plan of action, a course to follow, a map to read. I don’t mind taking detours if I’m not just wandering aimlessly. It’s the perfectionist (no that doesn’t apply to my housekeeping…I’m a slob when it comes to that, don’t judge me or I’ll point out your spelling & grammar mistakes) in me; the control freak who needs to know what’s coming. I dislike, no make that loathe, change. There’s so much going on right now & I’m a mess…I’m talking total disaster! It’s “call for federal aid, Hurricane (insert name here) has hit” time. It’s “She can’t take no more Cap’n, she’s starting to break” type stuff….

It’s been nearly 22 months since Abe was last employed. He’s done odd jobs here & there, taken every dollar of unemployment available, tried to make a go of Black Ash & More, applied for every job between here & Bedlam…problem is there just aren’t jobs. The few that are out there (and it’s VERY few) mostly don’t even make it feasible for him to drive to work ‘cuz the pay is so low & the number of miles too great. Of course I can already hear the “you should move” comments. If only it were just that simple…

We don’t have the finances to move…without going into that whole matter let’s just say that coming up with 2+ months rent isn’t going to happen. We’ve cleaned out the retirement accounts ages ago, our savings is gone…our credit….well we won’t go there either. Anything positive we had going came to a screeching halt 2 years ago & we’re sinking now. Not to mention the logistics….

Of course there are benefits…Abe can get a good job again. It’ll mean a lot to him & I will do anything to support him. Moving to the location we are considering would put us closer to his brother in Missouri & a lot closer to my family all of whom I do miss. Yet we’ll be further from his dad, his brother & wife and their boys up here. We won’t be that stone’s throw from the North Shore & all the places we’ve grown to love. The places that refresh my spirit & inspire my soul…the places I’m proud to know & to which I want to play travel guide for visiting friends. Will I ever visit again & feel the wonder that sinks deep into the core of me? I don’t know…right now everything is clouded. I’m not good with change…even when I want to make it. Right now I don’t want to make a change even though my logic tells me that it is what I must do.

I’m afraid….afraid that I’m never going to feel like me, that the people I care for & consider to be my close friends will decide that I’m too much work (I know, I know…my real friends won’t do that…doesn’t make the fear any less real), I’m afraid of losing myself.

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Posted in I should be in therapy, Musings, What's in my Head

Whatever

18 Oct

Hmmmm….so I was feeling really pretty good going into October. Had a few days of feeling almost normal….that’s gone though…a friend told me the other day if I’d lived during Dickens’ time I’d have come up with “Bah Humbug” first (and said it about myself). Yeah well, I’d have been right too….

I don’t really know what to say anymore. I feel trapped — I’ve got to find a way to suck it up ‘cuz that’s really my only option….

Yeah, whatever….I guess self-torture means I may be miserable but I feel something….if I’m lucky I’ll wake up tomorrow & be numb. That would be really nice ‘cuz it would feel a lot better than crying through work & trying to hide it….

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Posted in I should be in therapy, What's in my Head

Self-Cleaning Oven

18 Oct

Last weekend when I had my head in the oven (no it was not a Sylvia Plath moment) at my brother-in-law’s house I was struck with the overwhelming memory of me as a very young girl in another kitchen.

I have such vivid memories of the first house I really lived in (the first house I lived in was for such little time I don’t even count it) that it still seems like “home” to me although I haven’t lived there in over 20 years. I remember the hot pink shag carpet in my bedroom, the Raggedy Ann & Raggedy Andy lamp (which I still have somewhere), the way we could race from room to room in a big circle, Dad’s brown recliner, the gold couch & the pea soup green carpet.

We had blonde wood cabinets with large copper-looking knobs. When I was very little I would sit on the top shelf of one of the lower cupboards and play in there. I’d pull all the pots & pans out, banging away like a rock n roll drummer. I also liked to have Mom shut the doors & just curl up inside. Another thing I remember very well is the oven. We had a built in oven in that house…a sort of reddish-brown color that sat on the far side of the kitchen from where you normally entered, right next to the doorway for the back living room.

Since Mom always cooked & baked a lot it was inevitable that the oven would need to be cleaned. One day in particular I was watching Mom clean the oven…since it was not self-cleaning she was using an oven-cleaning spray & a lot of scrubbing. I was underfoot observing all the scrubbing & gross black gunk being removed…not being a fan of icky things I voiced how much I disliked the process.

“Mom, that’s gross”, I said in my little voice, “when I grow up & have an oven of my own you’re going to have to come visit & clean my oven for me.”

Sadly Mom doesn’t come clean my oven but luckily I can turn it on & let it self-clean….

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Posted in I AM, Memories

This House Used to be a Home

14 Oct

As you may know (or not in which case you will soon learn) I have spent the long weekend in Missouri helping my brother-in-law move & clean up the old house. It has been a most bittersweet time as the circumstances for moving are not happy but we always have a good time hanging out. There’s plenty of banter & trash talk but it’s all in fun. As we emptied the house & scrubbed everything it became less of a “home” and more of a “house”. To me home is a sense of place, a building that holds part of me. It shares my identity & personality. A house is just a building, I don’t necessarily feel comfortable in a house…usually I feel stiff like I can’t relax. In my home, my bones become fluid when I sink into my chair or sofa. In a house I’m sitting on the very edge of the seat, anxious about what comes next. As we watched the U-haul fill my brother-in-law’s home became an empty shell of a house, echoing with memories both sweet & poignant.

Packing up & moving has been a huge part of my life. I’ve moved more times than I care to count (15 at least). My first move was so soon after I was born I have no memory of it. We moved into a big white farm house with red trim & a screen door that banged closed when we went chasing in & out. It was one of my favorite places that I’ve ever lived. Maybe because it was my first home…I explored & haunted all the corners of that farm. There were patches of lilies of the valley & violets in the backyard by the grove & the old wooden swing. Moving from that farm made me very sad. I remember crying as we drove away for the last time. I can still remember the telephone number for that house.

From that house we moved back to the town where my parents were raised. We lived in a small house, filling it to the seams & yet we were happy there. Then we moved to a farm where Dad could milk the cows in a big white barn with the most amazing hayloft. We had two mobile homes attached with a breezeway. This meant I got my own room which was a huge deal. I remember hiding in the hayloft with a book & snuggling the baby kitties. I’d take a book (or 3) & find a quiet corner where I could stretch out & read. Sometimes it would be raining & I’d pause in the reading to just lie there & look out at the farm through the crisp clean smell of rain on summer grass.

After awhile we moved into another big farm house…this one had a mile long driveway (no kids this is not an exaggeration) that we had to walk (more often we ran) to catch the school bus. There were days where this wasn’t an altogether unpleasant experience…then there were the subzero winter days where the wind screamed across the prairie. Our bus driver was often very nice & would drive up halfway so that we could get out in the windbreak of the grove. Sometimes we’d just walk in the deep ditches for protection…we’d race & slide on the ice. We lived there until a tornado changed everything & we moved again…

The last move I made with my whole family we moved into the house my parent’s now occupy. It feels like home in many ways although I didn’t live there very long. We moved in the October of my senior year of high school. After that all my moving was from college dorm to places sundry. Until we had our first place together, I didn’t feel like I was “home” for a long time…my apartment with Abe quickly became a home. It didn’t feel like I was waiting to pack up my stuff & move again. We did eventually move…to a little house near where we currently live. That house was just a house…we never felt “lived in” there. This current place is somewhere in the middle…it has been “home” for a few years now but that feeling is leaving me. I’m curious to see where/when I start the hunt.

So what about you? Where have you lived that was truly home? Please share some stories in the comments…I would love to know what makes your place of abode your home.

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Posted in Memories, The Life We Lead, What's in my Head

Where Do I Go From Here?

06 Oct

It’s no surprise to my readers (I think I have readers…hard to tell these days since my best ones have gone MIA & I’m not sure if I’ll get them back….) that my job is not my favorite place to spend time. Besides tumult in working with the office personnel, I am at the point where my job doesn’t challenge me…and me + unchallenging work =disaster. I have trouble focusing when I’m not challenged which means procrastination & other self-defeating habits. I’m not happy where I am yet with the job market & economy the way it is…well I would most certainly need another, higher paying job before I consider letting this one go. I’m on the horns of a dilemma & I really wish I had a nice comfy cushion ‘cuz I think I’m going to be here awhile.

My true deep down desire is to write…I want to write a book (I have no idea what that book would be), I want to work on my poetry & someday publish a small book of it with a dedication to my husband (and a poem dedicated to someone who inspires me to write better), I want to have time to go out & take the pictures that speak to me & fuel my creativity. I want to take those pictures & create a book of the places that feed my soul in hopes of sharing that with someone when they need it the most.

Today I got a text message from Mom who relayed a message from Aunt D. Basically they both think that I should write. Heh, I’m not disagreeing but I know that there really isn’t money in writing unless you’re Stephen King or Michael Crichton or J.K. Rowling. I’m not…and I’m okay with that. I just wish I knew where I was supposed to be.

I guess I don’t really have a point to this post except to posit the question- Where do I go from here? I don’t know & I’m running out of faith that I’ll be getting any answers.

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Posted in What's in my Head

Swinging Pigs

30 Sep

5 year old me was always outside weather permitting. I had not yet discovered “chapter” books so although I was an accomplished reader books didn’t own me the way they would during my teen years (ok, they still own me). Being a farm girl there were 6.475 billion things to do on any given day. This particular adventure deals with a fine early summer day in 1980. I am, of course, the heroine of this little tale with cameo appearances by my sister Lissy, brother TJ & Mom.

I should also note that I loved to help out & follow Dad around. Mom’s jobs were things like dusting & taking care of a baby. Dad had animals, trucks & other machines…plus there was always a chance for a trip to town or a neighbor’s farm. Being the social butterfly I am (and caffeine addict…farmers ALWAYS have coffee) Dad was who I would choose when the opportunity presented itself.

We had pigs at the time & there are few animals more cute than the soft pink & curly tail of a piglet. I was in love with them & attempted to catch one to play with on several occasions. The trouble was there were a lot of baby pigs & they would get all would up by my chasing them. This led to squealing…from them too & I hated that noise. Being a precocious problem-solver I thought about the best way to catch a pig (hmmm…too bad Cary Grant isn’t around for more movie roles…) & decided to grill Dad about it. After using all the persuasiveness innate & willingly wielded; Dad relented & one day gave me a piglet catching lesson. Dad showed me how to stand firm & then he shoo’ed the piglets my way. He showed me how to reach down & grab them by their back legs & hold the squiggly little suckers upside down. If done properly this keeps the piglet from sounding the “a crazy 5 yr old just snatched me” alarm. We practiced a few times & I proclaimed myself proficient.

A couple days later I was playing outside when I decided that catching a piglet was the order of business that needed attending. Needing a piglet catcher I enlisted the aid of my 3 yr old sister Lissy. We walked to the hog house area which was in the back par of our yard. I then proceeded to give Lissy the very same instructions I had received. I planted her in the doorway & then chased 20-30 baby pigs at her. Needless to say she was scared to death & started to cry and scream. Frustrated but undaunted I managed to catch a piglet & headed outside with the struggling piglet firmly clasped about the middle. Of course the pig was squealing, Lissy was still crying & I was frustrated at the whole thing. Mom, hearing the commotion while changing TJ’s diaper leaned to the window, “Becci, what are you doing with that pig?” The exasperation in her voice still rings clearly through the years…. I stopped, still with a firm grip on the pig & in the most matter-of-fact way explained, “Well, I want to swing but I want someone to swing with so I am taking the pig along. I’m going to teach it to swing too.” And with a nod at Mom & the thought of what a silly question that was I continued over to my swing set.

The swing set had a teeter-totter, 2 individual swings (excellent for lying on your stomach & pretending you could fly) & a two seater swing. I hauled that pig into the two seater & began to push back & forth…it didn’t last long & I let the piglet go running back to the safety of the pen. I learned something very important that day….pigs simply don’t like to swing.

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Posted in I AM, Memories

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