Sarcomical

Rain On the Pretty Ones

i'm the actor who's scared to perform
i'm the sunshine that hides in the clouds
i'm the father that couldn't be found
i'm the cuckoo that never flew south
i'm the christian that cannot forgive
i'm the dreamer that jumps off the bridge
i'm the sinner who hates how he lives...
i'm the liar who gets what he gives.
-Ed Harcourt, Rain On the Pretty Ones

There are moments, still. Moments when I am hit with a swell of certainty that I have abandoned myself. I pause, overwhelmed by the chasm that separates me from the quiet, patient shadow that I some days am barely aware exists. What's worse is when I go days or weeks without even thinking about the fact that I miss her.

She tells me to remember how hard I've worked to make impossible things happen in my past.
She wishes I would not stuff down my desire to become a traveler because of fear.
She'd like to kick me in the ass for pretending this is enough.
She reminds me how much participating in the comaraderie of musicians meant to me.
She challenges me to take risks in my art.
She wonders if I'll allow myself to fail.
She asks if I've forgotten the exhilaration of performance.
She urges me to become fully passionate with the wreckless abandon of a child.
She can't comprehend giving so much power to my own critical voice.
She wants me to stop lying to myself about me.

*Feed reader folks, there's a video in this post. This song makes my soul ache and swirl. Please give it a listen.

participation.

It's been a really long while since I put thoughts down in a notebook, and I'm convinced this practice is a vital way to connect your internal dialogue with your physical life. I know that for myself, getting things in my headspace down tangibly lends so much clarity to what I need to do next.

True, there are our blogs, on which we can choose to sift through some things. Yet...there is something uniquely satisfying about letting thoughts spill out of a pen, filling a page with images, words, colors...that simply cannot be duplicated with text on a flat screen. I ponder and halter far less when physically writing. For me, it's vastly more cathartic, more action-spurning, more idea-churning and honestly much more spiritually fulfilling to give myself permission to scribble, scratch and earn an ink-stained wrist bone (fellow left-handed comrades, you feeling me on that one?) than to labor over a few paragraphs for an hour while staring into a lightbox that I am quite sure will eventually be the annihilation of my eyesight.

All of that being said, along the lines of fostering creativity and productive thought, I'm going to share with you some excerpts from what I wrote yesterday in my new giant red notebook, after wrestling through a creative block and doubts as an evolving creative professional:

"It's difficult for me to accept that I can or should expect or even ask for any sort of compensation for the assumption that what I do would be considered a talent. The fact that I continue to fight, battling myself over the idea that this is all too personal to risk being rejected in the light of the rules of commerce, that I must be willing to separate myself from my fears enough to demand even half a living at it...it's a stifling thought. ... ... This is the time for renewal :: and participation. ... ... There is no reason you cannot produce SOMETHING every day. ... ... Regret less each day."

Fuzzy

"There is nothing worse than a brilliant image of a fuzzy concept."  -Ansel Adams

It's become clear to me over the past two weeks or so that I've approached an unavoidable crest of decisive moments in a few areas of my life. It's not that I find this daunting; I actually am grateful for the will to even make determinations in light of the fact that my soul had been laying low and soft for a long time, zipping up inside of itself just enough to allow me to function on auto-play, get through days without experiencing any loss or disappointment or bare-naked vulnerability. Yes, I've been often tucked away on the other side of the wall over the past year and a half, and have peered out from the mouse hole during the last few months to observe the action bustling about in this bright room, and I want to do more than warm my face in the sunshine and then scurry back to the hideout.

One thing I'm most happy to see re-emerge is my intention to allow myself to feel the fear of journeys I've wanted to embark on for a long while. I'd convinced myself that I didn't care what I was doing or where I was going in my life, because things had spun so out of my own control that my defense mechanism flipped into hypersonic mode and told me to go numb. Numb. I can't stress strongly enough how destructive the state of numbness is to a person's spirit. Sometimes, the brain doesn't know what else to do with information or circumstances that are too intense to bear; it's a part of our chemistry. But left to burrow and nest unattended, it will smolder the soul in a cloud so black and so acrid that it will choke out even the desire to emerge from it.

Freeing myself has largely been a task I have borne alone. I don't have a large social circle from which to draw support and there is no family member I have the type of relationship with currently that lends itself to that sort of sharing. Mr. Sarcomical has at times tried his best to be supportive, but his own personal struggles and a schedule that has taken him frequently on the road often has limited what he can provide in terms of accountability and active encouragement. Sometimes when both spouses are working through individual difficulties, it's like two people treading water. You have to start kicking your own feet or you'll both just be going nowhere and running out of breath.

I am kicking as hard as I can.

I am going to dive back into some parts of LIVING I've all but abandoned - experimental cooking, getting messy and making objects with my hands, writing every day, having a sleep schedule FRIENDLY TO HUMANS, etc. I'm going to rely on a lot of physical exercise to be my antidepressant drug; it's something I've come to realize is unavoidable for me at this point. But hey, bonus! NICE ASS, which I think I can live with. I have to let go of the guilt of feeling so far a disappointment to anyone who ever nurtured my intelligence or talents. I have a personality which naturally hesitates at hint of failure, smack talks itself out of going after a frighteningly wonderful opportunity. The cyclical thinking which allows someone to stay stuck in Numb is ridiculously simple for me to slip into. But if I can each day do ONE thing that excites me even a little bit, or take ONE step in the direction of something I intend to be, I can be confident that my soul will be able to breathe easy. Emerging from Numb is an incredibly difficult process, but I don't need to worry about making it all look perfect.

I can be a fuzzy image of a brilliant concept.

Magnetic Serenity

Dear Jennifer from Whole Foods,

A little over a week ago, I came into the store to replenish my stock of deliciousness from the magic wall of snack bins, which usually has a tendency to make me very giddy. This day, however, I was feeling mentally and emotionally sandpapered in a way that could not be soothed by large plastic scoopers and giant tubs of strawberry/raspberry granola or carob spirulina energy blocks. No, not even the sweet faces on the animal cookies could provide any comfort.

I just remember feeling low and somewhat removed from myself. I was tired, a little sad and a lot overwhelmed. I'm sure I must have looked serious when I came up to your register, because I know at times when I'm feeling perfectly pleasant I have a naturally down-turny mouth, even when I SWEAR I think I'm smiling a little. But on this day, I felt admittedly droopy, and I was gearing up to begin the Service Person/Detached Customer with Averted Eyes Interaction, UNTIL...

You started talking to me. Okay, at first I admittedly resisted and mumbled a bit, something like "uh-hmm, yeah..." in reply to your request if I'd found everything I needed, because as is the tendency when someone with my temperament gets caught in their headspace, I sort of wanted to remain the hermit crab wallowing in its sad wee shell. But then I looked up at the moment you asked if I was having a good day, and you said it as gently and sincerely as possibly anyone has ever said it to me and you locked into my gaze as if you were really trying to find a response in my eyes that I was okay. So profound was the sensation of your goodwill and genuinely peaceful smile that it knocked me a little off guard.

I have to be honest; I am usually the type of person who detests - DETESTS - mindless chit-chat with a stranger, mostly because I am very sensitive to tone and picking up people's vibes, and the moment I sense superficiality or ingenuity a switch flips in my brain and I get very turned off and want to get out of there. But, as you continued to ask me about my peace t-shirt (holy wow, I am starting to sound very hippy-dippy in this post, aren't I?) and told me about the pigeons you used to feed when you lived in Montana, and how there was one white one who would always show up with the rest of them and we began to wonder out loud if doves are basically white pigeons, I was drawn to your grounded calm, your magnetic serenity. It was something I rarely come across but am always drawn to. During our brief exchange I was struck by the positive energy you had shone into my life at just the moment I needed it. I came out of that place much lighter and breathing freer. Thank you so much for that.

Jennifer, cashier at Whole Foods and rare soul...I think if I see you again I am going to ask if you want to meet one afternoon for coffee.

Until then,

Melissa from A House Not Far Away

A Salute to the Culture of Oversharing...

We love to see the bloopers.

When I get a DVD, which - come on, what with DVR? - is pretty rare these days except in the case of my favorite television sitcoms, I look most forward to seeing the outtakes - the bloopers. I like the idea of knowing how a character is supposed to respond, then being let into those moments when it all goes to hell and an actor breaks character. I like seeing how that person really laughs, how they naturally react after they've made a mistake.

We love to see the bloopers. We enjoy the imperfections.

Sometimes I ask myself why I slowed down my writing here so drastically in the past year or so. I ask myself why I stopped blogging regularly about the mundanities of my life, even though I was able to make you laugh through much of them. The truth is, you aren't the only one subjected to my self-imposed cut-off. Let's just say I developed a distrust of the safety of sharing and of embracing others into my "world", and that's something that I have been wrestling with a lot over this time. 

Accompanying this depression-slash-hermitage-slash-intense level of MEH-ness, grew a general crabbiness each time I tried to sit down to write. The truth was, all that was really going through my head was the mishmash of how I was trying to unravel my own confusion and gain some deeper understanding of my life events, my purpose, my direction, my my MY ME ME ME blahblahblahblech. I really grew exhausted of subjecting this space to what I felt was merely becoming a virtual spewing of self-therapy. And I thought, after FIVE years here, is this all I have to put 'out there' again? I'd really rather be be making you all insanely jealous with some kick-ass project I was taking on or bragging about my clumsy yet successful completion of some marathon or at the very least come off as the Über Sexy Confident Mastermind Take Charge of the World Creative Genius I wish I felt like.

In all fairness, I bet some of you would have really liked if I had borne the discomfort and written it all out anyway. Not that I haven't read about someone's struggle or heartache and felt intensely grateful for their ability to share, their adeptness at putting into words something that I myself had felt yet been unable to clarify so well. The fact is that some of those moments deeply define and even cement our relationships online; that's part of the inescapable nature of this culture of virtual friendships and stranger adoration.

We love to see the bloopers.

If I had been writing more during this time, I would have probably told you about feeling abandoned and betrayed by people close to me, about our dealing with my husband's diagnosis as a diabetic, about feeling inadequate in my talents, about turning into a vapid lump for long periods of time, about compartmentalizing to the point of numbness, about our first concerns regarding the possibility of children in our future, about reawakening, about making new friends, about almost auditioning for a musical, about INSOMNIA DEAR GOD, about yoga's amazing and strange healing, about a quest for mindfulness, about having to induce a little brown chihuahua to...er...regurgitate the ear of a plastic teddy bear and crying guiltily the entire time, about taking on special photographic projects, about learning to say the word "photographer" without a self-deprecating shoulder shrug and a ready dismissal of my abilities, about my hair finally growing to bra-strap length and the trip to the stylist who ripped out about a 1/4 pound of it with her fingernails, about our desire to move ANYWHERE but here, about new dreams of writing and creating...

As I grow past this shedding of skin, yet another stage of life that I suppose I have had to go through as part of my experience...my desire is to make myself Write It Out whether I feel the muse slap me against the head or not. I want to be more wildly open with you again, if only to be more wildly open with myself. Perhaps I'll even tell you the next time I crack open the door of a theater, peek around the velvet curtain just inside it blocking out the sun, barely view some young beauty in a sweatshirt reminiscent of Fame chatting up some guys, and turn & run like hell back to my car with my Singer's Anthology to drive away and get a giant self-loathing Oreo Blizzard from the Dairy Queen drive through.

After all...we love to see the bloopers. We enjoy the imperfections.

Life, as Taught Through Ice and Dogs

The dogs in the SarcomiHouse like ice cubes. They reeeeeally, really like them. Any time I open the freezer there's a click-clacking stampede across the kitchen floor, as if I were slow-roasting juicy steaks in there instead of tossing a few chips of frozen water into their mouths out of the bag of Home City Ice.

If you have ever lived with a dog, you've probably seen some version of this thing that Shiloh is most guilty of out of the three of them:  he will excitedly take his little chunk of ice over to the carpet, set it down, then nervously wander back into the kitchen (while attempting to not draw my attention), because he just isn't quite comfortable with the possibility that I might be giving out an even BIGGER! and BETTER! nugget of ice, even though everyone has gotten their ration and by now I'm just adding some to my glass for my sweet tea.

Last night, he did this particular thing, and I told him "Go! You already have yours!", which garnered a rather obvious lack of belief and further anxious peering at my hand nearing the big bag in that giant cold box where the melty dog biscuits apparently come out of. He didn't trust me. I don't know why; I'm a very trustworthy individual.

You do know, yes, that there is a certain someone named Ricky who lives here, correct? And that Ricky is the baby, and a spoiled brat who steals and will not share a toy or a blanket to save his life? Well, it seems as Shiloh's big ice cube sat on the carpet melting, Ricky - finished yet severely unsatisfied - could simply not take it anymore, and ran over and stole it just in time for Shiloh to turn, walk back for it, and then shoot me a "BUT MOM, WHAT THE HELL?!?" look.

Because I am alone in the house a lot a lot A LOT during the day, and because I have nothing else upon which to lavish the benefit of my maternal scolding, I without really thinking said, (and I swear to God, this was what I really said, even though it seems a little too convenient for a preachy post) "See what happens?!? What you have just isn't good enough for you and then someone else takes it."

Hm.

Immediately afterward I thought that was kind of funny because a) I really talk to the dogs entirely too much like Humans with Fur Who Answer Me with Words and Waggy Tails sometimes but hey I've come to grips with that and b) the concept is glaringly relevant and timely, and something The Husband and I have certainly discussed at some point or another, and more often recently it seems.

Don't neglect what you have (talents, relationships, possessions, positions, finances) in favor of pacing stupidly waiting for your perfect chunk of life to fall out of the box, while others are able to LIVE and enjoy what you already have. You'll end up with no treat at all. BITE INTO YOUR OWN CUBE!

p.s. Lucy is mad she wasn't in this story. She wants everyone to know she takes her ice cubes daintily from my fingers and then eats them quietly in the other room with no trouble like these STEWPID BOYZ. Also, these photos are from a few Halloweens ago (which some of you may recognize), and I swear I decided to dress them ironically for the good of getting the shots. Honestly.

more tightly than you ever bound me

this was the moment of Yes
the day of Not Afraid

time hung high for quieting the mind
and becoming enveloped in now

will this ache define you
or will you redefine it?
she was never sure how to answer that question
but most often forgot to pose it

the bruising
the bruising and pulping of her heart
she wanted to gently soak it in warm milk
and rub ointment on the blackened shadows

then shoot it off into space

it was easier to be fearful of the imaginary goblins of the future
than confront the apparitions of the present
who had decided to linger for tea
and swish around in front of the archways

casting inverted darkness on the bare floor

with a broom one cannot swat them away
pests can be eliminated with swiftness
fumigation is only successful if you aren't knotted to what you mean to destroy
take a step and it only pulls them in concentric unison along

she wanted to travel without the sticky web of familiar unwelcomes
imagined a lighter existence
i'm sorry but i have to let one of you go
after clumped years of simultaneous dependence and despise

i'm tired of choking as you wrap the tangle tighter against my throat

she could saw through but one taut stronghold at once
Fear was first in the priority of elimination
with knobbed muscly fingers it clung to her legs
shrieking and falling on its weight to add drag to its escort

but i'm your favorite
you love me best

clinging to you is not the afterbirth of love she replied
but instead indicates the slow suicide of my soul

and i want to put the knife down

i need to breathe Yes more than no
and embrace Not Afraid more tightly than you ever bound me

©2009 melissa glenn

Supporting the Stalks

Did you know that celery looked this beautiful when you chop the stalks off all at once? Well, I know this completely trashes any culinary street cred I thought I was building up, but prior to our becoming the beneficiaries of the Jack Juicer over the holidays, I have never had occasion or inclination to hack into an entire head of celery at once. I suppose I'm also yet again showing my hand when it comes to the way small things can send me into naïf-like joy, as in "honey, look at this celery, it's so pretty, I HAVE to take a picture, I mean don't you think this is amazing?"

(Blech. My zen, soul-searching, deep-heart side and my sarcastic tendencies often just don't know what to do with each other. What can I say, I'm a Gemini - that whole simultaneous cynicism & optimism lusciousness is part of the package.)

Right now I want to focus on my initial reaction, though. This unassuming stump of celery remains sort of got me thinking about how such a visually appealing, tightly-spiraled network of support hides under those long stalks. Perhaps this is because I've been so damned introspective as of late, but I felt like that ridiculous green lump of crisp-watery petals actually was looking at me, telling me the urge I have had brewing inside is perfectly on track.

You may be in a place where you can't even recognize your insides anymore. If someone asked you to describe them, you wouldn't be able to conjure the image clearly in your own head, much less allow others an opportunity to see how disorganized it feels like they have become. But just because you can't perceive the stunning layers of your soul doesn't mean they aren't there, and if you have to cut down to the core from time to time in order to see beyond what has become a wilted mass of unfulfillment, fear, guilt, wastefulness and anxiety...then CUT. Cut down, revisit, and reacquaint yourself with what you have to support you from the inside, and nourish it.

Monkey Breakfasts

How many people are greeted in the morning with their breakfast arranged to look like a somewhat frightening interpretation of a primate?

I sense that, though I may not be able to claim solitary ownership of such an honor, I am at least in a minority among women AND men.

Even taking silly breakfast plates out of the equation, I am what is and should be considered fortunate in the partner department. True, we've had our share of typical relationship waves, and because of how young we were when we were married (22 & 23), we've had to spar and strain through each others' evolution into almost completely different organisms in our 10 years together (14 if you count the dating, but who really sees it all during dating, anyway?). I mean, hell. I feel like a virtually-unrecognizable person from when I even began this blog 4 1/2 years ago. (Seriously. I cringe at the thought of going deep into the archives.)

My point is that we have developed a massively deep love and appreciation for one another. We know each other incredibly well. We have a secret sense of humor between us. Our conversations, and even some of our 'arguments' often take a Seinfeldian (-slash- SNL -slash- Barney Stinsonesque) turn. I swear it's true, as annoyingly made up as it sounds. We understand each other. We know we're best friends and we've realized we can balance that with a romantic relationship. We're growing up together.

And we've had to deal with some of life's ass-kickings together.

As regulars around here are aware, 2008 (otherwise known as The Year that Shall Not Be Mentioned), was a difficult one for us. I felt emotionally bitch-slapped by my family and it was hard to process. It threw me into a downard spin and just kept on twirling. We both felt betrayed, and for months, the situation escalated. Just as we had decided to say Screw it, we need to stop caring and live our life, we got some results back from a physical and blood tests which technically diagnosed him with a disease that affects the body's ability to regulate blood sugar. Yes, I could just call that what it is and what you are thinking, but you see, we have decided after these 3 months not to label him that way in our conversation, because we believe in a) the power of words and b) the fact that we will be able to aggressively normalize the condition and that eventually he will be, while still eating carefully and being vigilant in health, free of affects or signs of it. We have altered much of our lifestyle to approach this new reality.

When we first found out, we were still so emotionally raw from the 3 or 4 months prior that I'll admit, it was a severely low moment. We cried, together and separately. We took turns being angry, a few misdirected moments toward each other but more pointedly with the way our lives had just been changed. I mostly felt incredible fear at the mere thought of anything threatening to make me lose him EVER, no matter how far away. We all know, if we have partners, that there will be a day down the road...but still, in our stage of life it feels so very far ahead in a misty, distant future. However, my dear not-teenaged readers, we are getting closer to moments during which our sweet cloudy dream of endless living with the person we love is going to be challenged, and we begin to REALLY feel our humanity. And how much we can not possibly squeeze enough out of loving each other.

My heart...it still softens when I remember one of the first things he sadly said to me shortly after he told me the results:

"...but, I won't be able to make you pancakes for breakfast anymore!"

I love that boy.

Now, he has made extremely good progress toward maximizing his health and goddamit, he's also completely shrunk out of all of his clothes (boys suck) and has many more muscles for me to run my hands over, so don't worry. The path ahead looks VERY good. Finding this out when we did has ensured I will have him for MANY extra years and our eating & workout changes are working in my favor as well. Also, I have informed him that women in my family have a history of making it into their 90's, and I'd like to go first. So...you know.

My point is, I'd like to be having Monkey Breakfasts for a really long time. This guy...he's good.

"...the pleasure of forgotten things"

 Today, The Husband & I went to buy a new tree, as our last one had its final, pitiful run last Christmas. I have to be honest, I've been less and less into the "holiday spirit", and this experience just highlighted the disconnect I've been feeling. To me, as we were wandering around the room full of decorated displays, it all seemed so grossly fake. The idea of plunking down the money for a tree that doesn't look real (sadly with 3 pets, we've ruled out actually getting a real tree) and putting a bunch of shiny crap on it and all just because it's kind of expected feels hard to justify to me this year. All of it, from the first tacky lawn ornament to the last giant bow of the whole season makes me cringe a bit, because I guess I'm not feeling the genuineness in a year where so many things have imploded for us and so much disappointment has prevailed.

In order for me to get any sense of satisfaction from this next month, I know I need to release myself from bearing the burden of the things that have brought some of the black clouds into the past year, and frankly I'm tired of holding so tightly to my own unhappiness over them. I've always had a cynical side accompanying my playful nature, and really this past year has fed my cynicism and turned it into a very large, hairy, snarly Troll. I know I have changed as a person over the past 8 months in a way. But I would like to let that Troll out of the cage to take a nice vacation for a while, perhaps overseas. Maybe it can go to Pakistan and take out Bin Laden?

Anywhooo...

I don't want to let anything cloud a special time of year. I think I'd like to make some of the decorations, do things simple, and really allow myself to feel meaning in small things we can do together.

Do you have any special things you do together during the holiday season that help center the focus on the small moments, the shared experiences, the pleasure of forgotten things?

A Message for the Hesitant Spiller...

When it comes to resisting the deeper corners, the fuller vulnerability in what you create, express, or allow yourself to access...

Why not be raw? Why not be real? Who will you offend with the absolute truth?

Declare, shout, scream how you feel.

Cry, weep, wail your heart onto the earth.

Create something so true that it makes others FEEL.

That is my challenge to you. And to myself.

technorati tags: NaBloPoMo

My Musical Flashback: "Walk Like an Egyptian", the Bangles, 1986, age 10

It struck me as I was making my "Memory Lane Overload - 80s & 90s" playlist on Rhapsody the other day (ahem) just how much of our formative lives is heavily-ridden with musical bookmarks that trigger precise feelings, states of mind, and actual pinpoint moments more than almost any other cue.

I'm a music FaReeeak! And also a bit of a Contemplative Geek at times. This means of course that I can't resist - documenting some of the memories I flash to when hearing certain songs sounds like OH SO MUCH FUN. So, I think I'll do it.

Starting now.

My Musical Flashback: "Walk Like an Egyptian", the Bangles, 1986, age 10

this house full of girls, girls, girls

five sisters and then there is me

diving into the "play makeup" and Aqua Net

your slumber parties were rarely without costumes and acting skills employed

enough blush to be seen from space and now it's time to practice

tease, tease, tease that hair!

cue camera operator!

take 4

dancing from bed to bed, egyptian-walking and lipsynching perfection

music video Stars need their Pringles and pizza

screening event with your parents

Success! once again the audience is impressed

(we put on many acts

mini-movies were made of pure genius HAHAHA

would make phenomenal blackmail today)

scrubbed-up and pajama'd, scary movie time if you dare

your mom brings popcorn sprinkled with something delicious

what was that? to this day i have no idea

crunch crunch hold hands!!! eek gasp

never as scared as i were you and your sisters

but you also told the best ghost stories

you taught me the art

of whispering a dream into a sleeping girl's ear

giggles as she recounted confused pieces of it in the morning

wake up

pancakes and eggs and loud and lovely

   

p.s. in memory of your mom.

Sigh. This One's a Little Raw.

Okay, this gets heavy toward the end. Sorry, I'm feeling way tired and all other kinds of things.

The Master Cleanse, Day 5 Update:

• Woke up feeling even better than yesterday. Had an appointment to get my hair cut, and then went Christmas shopping afterward (having to skip the original lunch date I had set up with my stylist afterward and rescheduling for next week - I am SO EXCITED TO EAT THAT SUSHI it will be fantastic but not as fantastic as what The Brother-In-Law makes HINT-HINT a Sushi Feast Extravaganza would be, um, really WELCOME, you know, in case you guys are reading and wanting to make me cry tears of Food Appreciation after this is all over).
  
• Was feeling very "up" and brought some of the Lemon Drink with me in the car, but I didn't load up enough between parking lots to avoid the slump I felt after four hours. Uurrrghhh...
  
• I hit the lowest feelings of inability to continue today at around 6pm. It was strange because of how great I felt this morning, even telling my hairstylist that I actually hadn't had any major detoxing symptoms that I've read about. But later, I just felt sluggish and down. I came very, very, VERY CLOSE to veering into any place that would serve me fries or even a sandwich. I read when I came home more about how this could be right before I really clear some toxins, and they could be what are mobilizing and making me feel this way. So, despite the extreme amount of restraint it has taken me not to break this cleanse tonight, I am going to wait until tomorrow to see how I feel before I decide if I can finish out the complete 10 days. If I don't begin feeling better, I will probably end it when The Husband comes home on Saturday. I honestly believe the key is to not stop drinking the Lemon Drink at least every 20 minutes. Because you'll feel great, and not have any for a while, and then it will HIT YOU.
  
• Here's what I had going on In The Brain today - I have come face-to-face with some of my negative thoughts, and in a bare kind of way. While shopping, I was at this mall that tends to have lots of very, very wealthy people shopping in it. I came across a certain woman in a store and she was so put-together, so classy and gorgeous, with her perfect hair and face and shoes, and she looked like she might only have been my age. She seemed to be very professional, and gave off an air like an New York City fashionista. I caught myself being intrigued by her, and wondering intensely what she does for a living, how she lives, etc. I have had this problem with getting pangs of jealousy when I see people like that, who seem to have no financial worry, and it hit hard tonight.
  
  This is especially since another thing that's been on my mind today is our financial situation, and how I am not really helping it in my effort to be this "creative, artist-type" person who can't seem to handle the restraints of normal working situations. (Must be free like a bird! Must have higher purpose! Gah.) I'm still doing some freelance work that's bringing in a (VERY) little money, but I feel very guilty. My husband has a great job, works hard, and makes a good salary, but we can't get ahead...and that just stinks at our age. I really feel that the key to this lies squarely on my shoulders. Tonight I am feeling very bad that I'm not doing more to remedy this. I haven't gotten comfortable with the idea of asking people to pay me to take pictures yet. Hell, I can't even get to a point where I feel finished with my portfolio website. I have to either throw those hangups in the trashcan or saddle up and look for another job very soon, because I don't want it to just be his responsibility.
  
  One thing (which kind of affects above hangup) that The Husband and I talked about recently was how I sometimes literally can not make my mind cooperate with me. I wish I could explain it better, but right now it's hard to come up with the words. Let's just say that there are times when it feels like my brain is fighting against me when I'm trying to do certain types of things. It wanders, locks up, or feels overloaded and I physically feel angry and frustrated because of it. It's as if I can't turn the dial to the right frequency sometimes.
  
  I've been reading a little bit about childhood brain injuries and am wondering if it's possible that the skull fracture I had as a baby caused part of my brain to try to compensate for the part that may have been affected. Some think that while it was previously thought that younger children recover and repair better than people who sustain injury at an older age, that in fact possibly the younger children with moderate brain injury or head trauma may seem to recover normally but because of the young mind's ability to adapt, part of the brain may try to take over for a part that has been injured. This means that later on in life, as they encounter more complex issues around college/adult age, the full impact of how the brain has been affected may become more apparent. (Google "brain injury", childhood, plasticity, etc. and you'll see some of the info come up.)
  
  I don't want to grasp at straws, but I can't lie and say it wouldn't be a relief to me if this may be a contributing factor to my very long struggle with small but specific aspects of coping. I don't know. When I read it, it sounds a lot like what I'm feeling and going through. But all I know is, whether it's simple brain chemistry (ADD/depression) or this, my brain isn't always doing what I want it to do. So after this is over I might consider what methods are out there to help me to finally feel a little bit more normal in addition to the lifestyle choices I want to maintain that may help.

Oh My Good Lord. That was so long. Are you still even here?!?

Are You Getting Tired of the Updates Yet?

No? Because I am kind of. However, I did promise, so here you go:

Master Cleanse, Day 3:

• I had a very dull headache part of the afternoon, but not too bad.
  
• Have been a little hungry, but not more than that little twinge you get before you decide to make a meal.
  
• I've gotten more energy as this day went on and fully plan on going out to Christmas shop a bit tomorrow and make some things at home. Granted, these last two days I've been feeling low-key, but I really think that's been part of the emotional aspect and not purely physical.
  
• Tongue still a little gray, but almost back to normal.
  
• Today's breakthrough moment was realizing how much I use food - planning what I want to eat, thinking about what I want to eat, making it, eating it - to fill in some bored spots during the day. And I'm not what you'd call a compulsive eater! I'd bet a lot of you might have the same experience. I never noticed before how many times I do that. Really that's been the thing this day - coming up to a point where I could focus on something else, but instead wishing I could figure out dinner for tonight, or what snack I would want next. Weird. I think I also noticed it more today because The Husband isn't in town at the moment, and I think I do lean toward Food as Company! Not that it's SO bad to do that sometimes, but I'm learning new ways to deal with that time.
  
• My mind has a lot of clarity today; it's really nice. Some of the clouds I've felt brewing in my mind the past couple of months have begun clearing. I was hoping for this when I began this process.
  
• Even though I haven't put on makeup for two days, when I look in the mirror my eyes look brighter and my face doesn't seem to be drooping ever-so-slightly toward Earth's center when I see it - okay, bring on more of that!
  
• For some of you who asked - yes, you can drink water in addition to the drink, and occasionally some peppermint tea. I had some today and I felt my sinuses getting really clear. I am breathing easier than I have in a while.
  
• I've felt really positive today and think tomorrow will be a breeze. I might even do some gentle yoga tomorrow as well.

Some of you have expressed concern; I knew I couldn't put this out there in The Internet without some of that coming back at me. It makes sense. I understand your right to question it. But believe me, I'm NOT the most disciplined person in the world (although this is quite an exercise in that respect), and don't like being miserable. If I feel truly bad and like I'm doing something that's hurting me, I'll know to let it go and take it in as part of the experience. But for now I don't feel that way and still think there is more for me to learn through it. Because most of what I hope to gain is inside and not outside, my goal isn't just to push myself for not eating's sake. God, I Love Food! And I intend to eat food and enjoy it thoroughly after this. In fact, I'm going to plan some very special meals for myself when I'm done.

Hmm...thinking perhaps something in the crockpot.

I'll Really Be Appreciating Christmas Dinner This Year

Because the holidays just aren't stressful enough...I've decided to go on The Master Cleanse starting today. This means that for 10 days I'll be drinking the lemon/maple syrup/cayenne mix (which I actually like) and having nothing else but the occasional peppermint tea.

I've had a very contemplative and emotion-filled past two weeks. The Husband has been traveling a bit more lately with his new job, and this has proven to be both good and bad. On one hand, I do miss having someone around the house to talk to and to break the moments of being stuck in my own head, but at the same time it's nice that I have the ability to be on my own schedule and also to really focus on my thoughts and progress.

I told you that I've been dealing with insomnia and before that I told you that I didn't feel like I was depressed, at least not at all in the manner in which I've dealt with it in the past. Actually, since that time I've gone back and forth between feeling completely insightful and at peace to feeling quite numb and fighting the urge to just lay down in the middle of the floor in the Christmas aisle at Lowe's - not because I was tired from the NOT SLEEPING I'd been doing but from the mere fact that I felt so alone and detached and plain old did not care if the dad looking at Christmas lights with his daughter had to step around my BLAH, WHATEVER, COAT-WRAPPED BODY.

Throughout these past few years I've gone through several course changes in thought involving things which make you up as a person. The way I consider religion, personal relationships, societal conventions, politics, my own goals and talents, and more have all undergone change as part of my entering into this newest decade of my life, and this has happened in almost an oozing, sneaky kind of way that has felt very natural yet at the same time makes me want to stop and make sure I'm aware of it all. I really think that every once in a while you just need to go through a "shedding of your skin" kind of catharsis to stay healthy and present in your own life, and that's what I feel I'm doing right now.

First of all, I feel I must clarify that in NO WAY SHAPE, OR FORM does this have to do with that Beyoncé business and all the media surrounding the weight she lost doing this cleanse. If you knew me at all in real life, you would know I find her more and more unappealing as a person as time continues. So that's not an influential factor. I was, however, intrigued by Denise's journey through this as well as several others, and how they approached this spiritually and emotionally.

I will be posting at the end of each of these 10 days to give you a breakdown of how I've done so far, if you want to follow along and see how it goes. I can already tell it's going to take so much discipline, as I freaked out last night and ate the rest of the cookies we made the other day and this morning I popped out of bed saying, "you know what, I don't think I want to do this! I don't need to do this!", after making our special trip to Wild Oats yesterday for all of the ingredients. You start each morning with a salt water flush (which you drink), and let's just say I cried.

Master Cleanse, Day 1:

• The Salt Water Flush Sucks. You have to drink 32 ounces (1 quart). THIRTY-TWO, which is like 4 glasses of water. First thing in the morning, and all at once. I got to about 4 ounces and felt like I was going to gag. It was so hard! I told The Husband that I was done; I couldn't do this. I watched the Sia video to try to focus on something other than how disgusted I was. When I finally finished, I just started crying because it was so physically and emotionally difficult.
  
• Pain. Pain, pain, pain. Very sharp pains in my stomach.
  
• The Husband says maybe I got the wrong sea salt. He goes to two stores to ensure that I have non-iodized salt, because he felt so bad for me and wasn't completely convinced the salt we got yesterday is, since it doesn't specifically say so on the container.
  
• Um, salt water came out, so to speak. I guess the way it was supposed to. Felt instantly better.
  
• Made lemon drink and liked it! What a relief.
  
• Still drinking, supposed to have around 8-10 glasses worth a day.
  
• Husband bought 20 more lemons today. It takes about 5 a day in the drink mixture.
  
• Am already feeling anxiety over tomorrow's salt water.

What am I hoping to gain from this? Well, I'm hoping to break past some of the limits I've bound myself with lately professionally, creatively, and physically. I want to try to work through any residual negative emotions and/or anxiety I've held onto regarding when we will have children, what steps I want to take in my life, and how I want to take care of myself in all ways. I also want to gain the strength of knowing that I can resist the crutch of munching on food when I'm bored, stressed or sad. I want to be very thoughtful and meditative, and gather my focus. I have felt like I see sluggishness and dullness in my ever-puffy eyes lately, and I am looking forward to seeing health and strength in them instead!

Okay, are you ready? Because I am so freaking nervous. I LOVE FOOD. It's one of my favorite luxuries, it's what I like to comfort myself with on cold days like these, and I'm going to be bombarded with Christmas smells and images of food these coming days. PLUS, I can't seem to stop watching the Food Network Christmas specials! I just have to keep in mind this is only 10 days of my entire life. And by Christmas, I will be able to enjoy some of it just fine.

OH! And The Husband will be gone about 10 days out of the next two weeks. So I'll be alone for a large part of this as well. Fantastic. Here I go...

Some Things Friday #64: Feeling Depressed About Love Edition

Some Things I Love:

1. Exploring
   
2. Affection
   
3. Laughter
   
4. Intimacy
   
5. Playfulness

Some Things I Hate:

1. Living to work, but forgetting to live
   
2. Angry emails
   
3. The silent treatment
   
4. Assumptions
   
5. Lack of awareness

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

1. Resistance to joy
   
2. Settling for numbness
   
3. Forgetting the value of a happy memory
   
4. Ignoring life's possibilities
   
5. Not having the desire to make it better