Posted on by histrionicabutterfly

Taking A Breath On Sunday

I woke this morning with the old tiredness and shame wanting to settle over me. Dissatisfaction already pricking into my flesh, and irritation, like a strand of hair i can never get off of my face. I was up 3 or 4 times during the night, which makes it hard to wake up on the right side of the bed. I wonder how much it’s gonna hurt when i swing my legs out to the side and attempt standing.

I pull up my sleep mask to check the time and he’s there, of course. But he’s already awake, and i suspect, waiting for me to rouse. He puts his hand on my breast and says, Well, hello. He kisses me good morning, and his breath could knock over a bison at 50 yards, but it magically chases away all my demon companions. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back. He asks and i answer, and everything is better than all right.

There’s thick cut bacon left from last Sunday, and burgers from last night’s barbecue. I decadently toast the buns in the leftover grease, and it is BBQ bacon burgers for breakfast. Pickles, fresh tomato, thinly sliced Spanish onion, 2 kinds of cheese, melted, and we wash it all down with orange juice and chocolate milk. Not at the same time. The boy joins us and we make plans for the day. I leave them to go into town alone; they’re making their way towards each other, and it happens faster and better without my “help.”

My body doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and i’m fully here. In the face and functional, yet not planning to do much of anything. Some cooking, some laundry, a walk later to gather cow poop for our flower garden and new raspberry bushes. I’m listening to Bowie and JJ Cale and The Velvet Underground as i write, the dogs sleeping contentedly beside me. The wind is kicking up, the crickets chirp and the gophers whistle. I can hear someone using some big machinery on the back forty. The headache that wants to come is dulled by birdsong and the smell of freshly cut grass.

May this post bring you some of the peace that i currently, blessedly feel.

Be as well as you can, today.

~H~

IMAGE: Marta Ortigosa

Posted on by histrionicabutterfly

Hey You. Yeah, YOU.

Hey You.

It’s been a while since i addressed you directly, but that doesn’t mean that i don’t think about you. I wonder after you just about every day.

I think about you a lot, because when you’re like me, it seems like you’re all alone. It seems like i’m the only crazy person i know. I mean, there are social misfits and weirdos aplenty – but crazies? Once i accepted myself for who i am, i was met with radio silence.

It’s not cool to be cuckoo. You can be weird if you’re a nerd or a geek; a certain amount of social awkwardness is a prerequisite for the label. And if you’re rich or famous or some sort of celebrity or great artist then you can be as off as you want to be… They’ll call you eccentric.

Usually there is someone, though. Someone who gets us, or at least they try to. Or maybe they don’t try and they merely accept that they don’t understand and that’s okay with them. Their lack of understanding is not an impediment to them being in a relationship of some kind with us. There are some out there. Sometimes only one, but often more than we think. Experience has taught me that i just have to get through those tough times when i can’t see. Just because it’s dark doesn’t mean there’s no light. I know eventually the light will come. Maybe it’s just the cycle of light and dark, or maybe i’ve pulled down all the shades and just forgotten that i’ve done so. Maybe if i look hard enough i’ll see a dim glow seeping out around the edges…

But those of us who leave a trail of wreckage behind us: hospital stays and rides in police cars and enforced social service watchdogs and destroyed relationships…

You know, those of us who have done things that no one can make poetic.
Those of us who’ve been screwed up in ways not immortalised by some well-loved actor in an Oscar-worthy performance. Those of us who have a stink on us that we can’t shower away. When everyone you know for long enough -whether a minute or a year- knows that you are different. And not in the cool way.
For us, sometimes it is hard to see the light.

I want you to know that i’m thinking about you.

This is a hard time of year to be crazy. There’s family and expectations.
And family and expectations.
If you’re crazy and you’ve made it through any of these blasted holiday-gauntlets then i say Clap yourself on the back my brother/sister, because you are amazing!  This time of year turns solidly sane people into lunatics, so if you’re a whack job like me and still in one piece, congratulations.

And hey, if there’s some wreckage around you, it’s okay. Some broken relationships, some 911 calls, some final notices, some vicious rumours… If you’re still breathing, you’re winning. Even if you’re wearing a sweater with extra long arms that tie up in the back.

I know it’s about to get more intense. More family and more expectations.

I want you to know that you won’t be alone.
I’ll be thinking about you; wondering how you’re doing and if you’re all right.
Even if we’ve never met and i don’t know your name.

I don’t celebrate this time of year. I’m not religious. I’m not spiritual. I’m not going to church, i’m not opening presents, i’m not making obligatory family appearances.
I have no problem with anyone else being any or doing any those things, it’s just not me.

Whether you are or you aren’t doesn’t matter to me. What matters is, if you live with mental illness i want you to know that i’m thinking about you this holiday season. I know how hard it can be, and i just want you to know that you aren’t alone.

I have no step-by-step plan. I’m not selling anything, neither a belief system nor a product. I just want you to know that someone gives a shit about the real you. The you that doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing, and the you who’s terrified that they’ll find out who you really are, and the you who’s so freaking tired of toeing the line, and the you who doesn’t even know who you are anymore, and the you who has NOTHING left to give, and the you who has never been yourself with another living person, and the you who is afraid all there is is this and all you’ll ever be is who others think you are…

I have been able to create a safe place, with safe people, where i live the life i choose.

Some of it took so much strength and commitment i should get a parade, and some of it was a beautiful fluke.
Regardless, i have this life now and i’ve been thinking about you a LOT. I know how hard this time of year can be, and i want you to know that i’m thinking about you right now.
I don’t have family obligations or company parties or peer group expectations.

I will be thinking about you and wondering if you’re okay and hoping that you’re all right.
So, if you have to be around people that make you feel things you don’t want to feel – i’ll be thinking about you.
If you’re spending the holidays alone and wish you weren’t – i’ll be thinking about you.
If circumstances have made it so you can’t be, do, or give what you’d have wanted to this holiday – i’ll be thinking about you.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 

Hang in there, okay?

Lovelovelove and Peeeeace,

~H~