What goes around...

Years ago, I was telling GoodBuddy about setting up my altar in my new home. I was explaining how it was annoying that I didn't have a good compass to tell me where North was, so I could position the elements correctly.

At the time, Good Buddy thought it entertaining that I practiced witchcraft. After all, his group of friends didn't stray much into the occult...

Fast forward. GB and I have been through A LOT. And recently, we've been sharing each other's burdens as we both fashion a new life for ourselves. He's moved physically, from Boston to Florida. I've moved emotionally, from corporate America to entrepreneurship. We both have experienced times of doubt and insecurity. We've also been relying on one another for motiviation, confidence, advice and support.

Today, I got a gift in the mail. I opened the envelope to find a simple note: "To keep you on the right path." It was a compass. On the back, he had written, "Find YOUR true north."

Beaten Up by my own damned brain

So much going on I just don't know where to start.

It's no secret that I've had conflicted feelings about work. What with CBL trying to burden me with her insecurities and CBM trying to bully me, it's been a bit of a struggle from the beginning. The problem is, I love the company, I love the product and I really believe in the management of the business.

Which made it even more difficult on Wednesday to hear that they are completely restructuring the business and all of the Americas team should consider themselves "at risk." From a business perspective it makes complete sense. From a personal perspective, it sucks right out loud.

There are a few positions posted for the US team. And, if you're talking from a skillset point of view, I'm feeling pretty confident;. But CBM hates me - there's no hiding that. And whether or not he can make an objective decision is in decidedly in question.

Add to all of that stress - do I or don't I have a job? - Good Buddy is in town.

It got off to a rough start. We were supposed to hang last week and I had even taken the next day off "to recover." Of course, he blew me off. Worse, he lied to me about the reason why. He still thinks I'm the crazy, obsessed girl I was 12 years ago.

The good news is that I showed in no small way that not only was I not that girl, but that I was a woman with her wits and brains about her.

Still, it was a tough day. The person who probably knows me the best in the world blew me off. I understood the reason but still thought it was illegit.

Here's the last thing. Finally, last night, a much needed night of soul-bearing, confrontation-having, no-holds-barred discussion was had. It took us until about 3 a.m. But I think we wound up on the same page. We'll never see eye to eye, but at least it's all out in the open.

And now I'm in bed, typing while my Handsome Man lies next to me. All of the various and sundry events of the last week + have me second guessing everything. And while I want to just snuggle down in his arms, I will do so with a pretty conflicted heart.

SHIT.

Beer 1. Me 0.

Found out about a month ago that Good Buddy was coming up north to tie up some loose strings. He mentioned more than a few times that he really wanted us to hang out.

Now, I know that Good Buddy and I have had our ups and downs. My friends mostly hear about the downs, but there certainly have been a fair amount of ups. The biggest, probably, is that Good Buddy lets me air all of my dirty laundry and never, ever, judges me for it. Preaches, yes. Judges, never.

Part of why I crashed and burned so hard when he left was because he took with him an outlet - a much needed outlet - for untangling my so-very tangled world.

So when I heard he would be in town, I started thinking about how great seeing him would be. We could sort out the whole obnoxious boss thing, talk about my concerns about Handsome Man, laugh about politics, be serious about comedy.

That's the problem with expectations. They can get dashed.

Good Buddy bailed on me tonight. And here's the worst part - he lied about it.

He was supposed to come up after the game, which he was watching at a friend's house. Until the ex-wife showed up and they got into it, full force. Since he's invested ~15 years with her, he felt like tying up that loose end was probably more important than shooting the shit with me. Granted. But what he told me was that he got too wasted to drive north.

So I called him, not unsurprisingly hurt and pissed off. And he continued the whole, "I'm too wasted" thing.

So, here's the question I ask any guy ever stumbling across this blog: Do you really think a woman is SO insane that she won't understand why you need to clear the air with someone? Do you really think that telling us that you need to short shit out is worse than telling us beer, weed and football is more important than hanging out?

Really? Seriously?

I just don't get it.

Of Jumping, Parachutes and Trust

At the risk of TMI ... there is a man lying sound asleep in bed next to me. He's fairly passed out from a hard day's - fuck that, a hard week's, a hard life's - day of work.

He is not at all my image of the "man of my dreams." Hell, for all I ever knew, it could have always been a "woman of my dreams."

Nonetheless, he is here, beside me, paint caked fairly permanently onto his fingers, beer belly, grey hair, and absolutely, unbelievably attractive to me.

I adore him. To the point where I wrote a short story at which GoodBuddy called me out. "Wow kiddo. Borrowing pretty heavily from real world fantasies are we?" In fact, GoodBuddy and I were really honest about it. On a random night last year, when we'd actually gone out to party, we ran into (what shall we name him?) I owned up. "Um, let's dance, but let's keep it fairly clean. And make sure I come off hot. I want to impress that guy over there." No idea if GoodBuddy was offended or not, but there you have it.

Fast forward a bit. I'd put out all the signals. Let's meet for a drink, let's hang out. Nothing. Finally, I invited him out for Fiesta. And finally, a nibble. Or, more truly, a full on, hard core, smooch.

I finally got what I wanted.

And now, the wicked, stupid, eff'ing insecure demon in me is wondering if I coerced him, forced him, somehow manipulated him into my bed. And if he would be here if it where someone - nay anyone - instead.

All the indicators point to no. And, if I am to be honest, he's wicked smart and wise enough to stand on his own and own up if this were a fly by night thing.

So why, oh why, do I continue to doubt myself?

Years and years of therapy and it still all comes down to this. Am I lovable?

But writing this out, I realize yes. I am. And yes, if he doesn't already, we're moving in that direction. Not because I made him. But because we are. We do. We will.

Hmmmmm

Been having a complicated week. Lots of stress w/ Good Buddy - altho he's finally owned up and said, yes, he screwed up and this pretty much was all his fault. Some stress w/ work peeps, altho that's also pretty much resolved itself. And then mucho happiness w/ a 15 mile bike ride, some ocean gazing, a hike and beach walking in bare feet.

So, good times, bad times, in between times.

What I have realized is that I CAN be in control of my life. Whether I am making decisions that will be for my higher good or not, they are decisions I am making. I'm not being tossed about by the waves any longer.

I know, for example, that I have more than 30 emails from CBL in my inbox. But it is Sunday. The Lord's day of rest (grin). And so I shan't look at them until tomorrow. Afternoon, because I have a mtg starting at nine. And that's when the work day begins. And my time is my time.

I also know that the best thing for me to be doing right now is to be out enjoying the sunshine and warmth. But right now, I feel like hunkering down in the dark, cuddling w/ my kitties and being sad. Not despondent, but sad. So that is what I will do.

All in all, feeling this way is a good thing. Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

Amen and Hallelujia!

Know What's Amazing?

Having your tech guy make reference to one of your favorite movies under his breath.

Experiencing adventures in travel without stress or anxiety and then walking into a conference room of people who don't shake your hand but give you a hug.

Being called to ask for your "expert" opinion on choosing a new bike.

Finding two cats curled up and asleep on your bed, being far too cute.

Discovering your roommate's son finally feels comfortable enough in front of you to dance.

Having wonderful friends who can talk to you about deep things and silly things, emotions and cosmic reality, anime conventions and th Dresden Files and still not think you're a nutjob.

Staying in your jammies and robe all day and rejoicing about it, all while knowing that tomorrow you will wear well-ironed professional attire, will make your bed and will eat meals at a regular hour.

Getting weepy and sad but knowing that your life won't end.

Feeling disappointed but still knowing you can look forward to fiddlehead season.

Enjoying the smell of garlic and onions sauteeing in a pan.

Thinking it important that you can appreciate NPR and raunchy radio all at the same time.

Wondering at making a toddler smile in an elevator because she has a Disney Princesss ball and you have a Sleeping Beauty keychain.

Knowing that that little girl's mother was thankful fo the distraction because baby was being a brat.

Regretting that someone gave up a lot of potentially enjoyable experiences because he was too afraid to face confrontation.

Seeing a double rainbow and knowing that it meant The Universe would help you as you began a new chapter in your life.

Remembering how much fun I had in Seattle, wandering on my own, talking to strangers, marvelling at the Japanese gardens and walking home in a gentle rain.

Believing that moving to London is a pipe dream and a possibility all at the same time.

Being confident that I deserve love and respect and trust and the space, time and confidence to be comfortable in who I am and do the things that make me happy.

Establishing and supporting the Lady McHerb project.

Finally realizing, heart and soul and mind, that the Lady McHerb project is the most important thing I will ever do.

Again, why do I do this to myself?

Can't sleep tonite. Welcome back, insomnia girl. The new meds - altho technically not "contraindicated" don't react well w/ the sleeping pills. So, I lay me down, book in hand, soft music playing, meditation reciting and still... It's 6:04 and seriously, not a wink.

Not boding well for the noon yoga class tomorrow.

Here are the things keeping me from sleep.

• A 26-page journal entry (bear in mind the pages really aren't that big) to GoodBuddy. I thought I'd covered all of it - in a healthy and rational way. And then I read some of the emails in my "drafts" folder. I was mad. And pretty rightly so. A lot of it was my insanity. But a lot of it was his inability to deal with things. And one fed off another fed off another and soon you have a vicious circle. So where does that leave my healthy 26-page, non-angry, objective journal entry?
• Facebook cruising. Why do I do this? Everyone I know is married, most with children. I look at honeymoon photos and they all seem so much happier than mine. Sure, a discussion with a really good friend once ended in, "but you don't want that. I know you don't. You've told me how many times you love travelling on your own, living on your own, not having to offer excuses or explanations - not to mention respnsibilites of children - to anyone. It's a choice, girl, not a demand. Live your life according to YOUR happiness, not anyone else's. And, yes, that's totally true. But I know and you - dear reader - know that single, childless women are STILL regarded as somehow... unfulfilled, defective, insufficient. F*** I wish I didn't care what other people thought
• Novel reading. I sincerely thought Drood was a labor in stubborness. So many people said it was a page turner and I thought - ugh - no way. Now, can't put it down. Scarabs in his head?
• And speaking of which - there has been some major cockroad activity - and generally bugginess - going on. A big honkin cockroach crawling along my ceiling. The ever-present cockroaches in my office. The buzzing of the mosquito in my ear tonight (my windows ARE open, but still, isn't it kind of early?). And the feeling that I've got creepy crawlies all over me. Not sure if that's the result of all the bug talk going on of late w/ CBL and others in the office, or the Reiki detox, or what. But yuck! I hate it. Itching everywhere and constantly checking for bugs when I logically know there are none.
• Finally, the work issue. What with my hard drive eating itself, the craziness of the P.O. non-process, managing the Awesome New Hire (have to come up w/ an acronym for her, I've been flat out. CBL wants to talk about things like what are we going to do for our "fun" activity in mid-May. I want to get all the crap that I need to get done, done. Like registering everyone for another important conference when early bird registration ends Friday. Or updating the Partner Status Plan that she asked for yesterday (when I had no computer so, sorry you're SOL.) Instead, I got an hour of her 3oth High School Reunion planning, a bunch of time on office gossip and then, finally, to work. I'm trying my best to stay focused and mindful of the situation, but it IS a bit tough when you have goals to meet.

So, here I am, almost 6:20 am and nothing to show for it. An entire night gone. Sure, I read some, wrote a lot (a lot a lot) and played a little bit of some gaming. Sheesh - my morning radio program started 19 minutes ago!

My heart tells me to TXT GoodBuddy and see how he's doing. My head tells me no. He was in a rough place last night, so probably best to let it lie...

Now, the question is, do I try to sleep for three hours, or just suck it up and stay awake today?

Hmmm....

What did YOU hear?

Upon me telling GoodBuddy (yes, we still speak, altho eggshells are being tread upon) that I was reading Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh, he heard "Thick, Not Hung."

Some minds are just too sick to understand.

Long Duk Dong anyone?

Finding Yourself

So, on Monday, I met with Awesome Therapist. And I had this to offer: "My alarm went off this morning, I went downstairs, put on my morning radio program (I have admitted to being a talk radio geek, right?) and sat down to have my breakfast. But something felt weird. And then I realized, I didn't have my laptop in front of me."

Of course, she was shocked. Most normal people would be shocked. But the reality is, I get so many emails from CBL from 7 pm to 6 am that if I didn't start the day that early, how on earth could I catch up?

What this week has shown me is -- who cares? If she sends so many emails that I can't deal with them and my daily tasks, then I don't. I am way more important than her emails. My life, my happiness, my very existence, is way more important.

And to that point, GoodBuddy. He's in town but has found countless and innumerable things to occupy his time other than see me. I know that he's putting it off because he would rather not - or more likely can not - deal with ... this. Whatever this is or was. And tonight I basically called him out. We were supposed to see each other. Then, we were supposed to call each other. And then he forget. As per usual.

The reality is, I keep looking in the rearview when I need to look through my telescope.

He's no good for me. He brought out that what was worst in me. He's hard --- Deal with it, get over it, life sucks move on -- whereas I prefer to soften to grace -- life may be hard, but there is a lesson to be learned. Soften to grace and you can find that your soul sings the song of The Universe. There is a balance between opening up and muscle-ing up, and a full life requires a balance between the two. Or, as Anusara Yoga puts it, Muscular Energy and Organic Energy.

Anusara teaches that it is all about Hugging in, and Radiating out. Strength and Softening. In Ardo Mukha, (downward dog) if you are all strength and no soften, you will stress the shoulders and the wrists. But if you feel the balance between the two, you may feel some DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) but you will not injure yourself.

GoodBuddy would find all of that "who ha" -but I find it real and powerful and that's why I found myself sitting on a rock in the sunshine, laughing and crying at the same time.

Once upon a time, he had the time and the interest to focus on these matters of the spirit. Now he is all about fixating on his future. As TNH puts it, we are very good about planning for our life, but not very good at living it.

I have so many people in my life that are not very good for me. It's no wonder I have lost focus on my center. But every day I shall do the work of "breathing in calm and breathing out a smile." Hopefully that will help. Hopefully that will keep the joy in my life.

Namaste.

I went hiking today and saw sorrel springing from the ground and buds reaching out from trees. I could see the first sprouting of fiddleheads and the scampering of robins and summer birds. I have to own all these parts of myself and love who I am. I cannot deny them any longer. I cannot allow someone else to tell me what they want and bow to that. I MUST follow my own bliss.

If you haven't read Peace is Every Step, I highly recommend you do. As someone who counts Dandelion as an herbal ally, this poem spoke powerfully to me:

I have lost my smile
But don't worry
The dandelion has it.

As Thich Nhat Hanh writes, If you have lost your smile, yet still are capable of knowing the dandelion holds if for you, things cannot be that bad."

Tomorrow, I return to work. My guess is that I have 727 emails. My mailbox probably shut down around 600, but that doesn't stop some people. I will get to as many as I can. And then, at 5:30, I will turn my computer off and head to yoga. Because I am more important. My life is more important. And it's time I started living that.

New Blossoms

It's been a complicated a couple of weeks.

I've had two pretty serious meltdowns. The first resulted in not so favorable circumstances, although I did get 13 hours of sleep.

The second resulted in exactly what I needed.

I've not been paying attention to what I need. I've been staying at work when I should be shutting down and going to yoga. I've been spending Sundays in front of the computer working on plans, budgets or communications.

I have in no way, shape or form been respecting who or what I am.

Add to that the fact that my family has been a basic shit and GoodBuddy shut me down because he couldn't handle admitting to me he'd found a new girlfriend.

In the midst of being constantly barraged by work, no rest and no support from the people I'd relied on to be my support and validation, I had a meltdown. Which resulted in me experiencing life in the emergency room and the psych ward.

Which would have been bad enough. But I kept being barraged by CBL (what part of I can't answer the phone because I'm in the hospital do you not understand?), kept being avoided by GoodBuddy and suffered unrelenting defensiveness and resistance from the parental units. Add one plus one plus one and you equal second nervous breakdown.

Luckily, this time was different. I was able to call on a friend who was nearby and accessible. Who not only could but was interested in making the journey to assist me. (Not to dismiss my other friends who stepped in during my first crisis. But there REALLY are time and distance obsticals.) Instead of being judged by a cold, distant triage bitch, I got held and comforted by a true friend. Instead of spending the night under an itchy, thin hospital blanket, I was held by someone who listened without judgement and fell asleep holding my hand.

More than that, we got to hang out the whole next day. No, it was not slam bang thank you ma'am, as nothing at all sexual happened. As if I was in any condition to deal with that. But I was made to feel no guilt or shame for the emotional firestorm of the meltdown. It was what it was, it was real and, hey, if there are still tears, let them come.

I have lots of thinking to do. I have lots of work I have to do to repair the damage I and others have done to my soul. I need to re-evaluate the role others have in my life and the expectations and hopes I have for them. And how I react if and/or when my personal projections are different than reality.

What I've realized more than anything is that I owe myself the respect of honoring myself. Whether that means taking a yoga class or admitting I need to work from home more than one day a week, or taking more walks around my island, has yet to be seen. But I know I need to disconnect and spend some more time teasing out the tangle of my thoughts and my feelings.

I don't want to run away. I don't want to disengage. I don't want to pretend that I have deep thoughts, a healthy perspective, or an introspective understanding. I want to live that truth. I've got a long way to go. But it's not an impossible path. Just one that takes commitment and belief.

Time, Time, Time, See What's Become Of Me

I know that you, dear reader, are probably tired of me dredging up shit and posting about it. You get it, the plot has been laid out. The ending is obvious. Move ON (dot org.) But I still have a few things I guess I need to say in writing. Sorry. Hit the close page button if need be.

I look back on the the last two weeks and it all seems unreal... How could this all have happened in just two weeks? A short 14 days in the grand, overarching total of my existence?

I was no secret that Good Buddy was avoiding me. I knew that he was and I knew why. But that was the reason I was so upset about it. We've always been totally and completely honest with one another. I've always known where I stood and how he felt. And while it wasn't the ideal for me, I knew - absolutely, completely and unconditionally - that he promised to be there for me.

Except this time, he wasn't.

I left emails, Txt messages. Voicemails. All I said was the clear truth. I've been working my knuckles to the bone, I'm exhausted and stressed out and feeling insecure and I need someone who loves to tell me it will be okay. That I am that good, that it will be alright. That of course I've dotted every I and crossed every T.

Instead, he completely avoided me. Abandoned me. Ignored me.

The reason was simple and I knew it before he even admitted it.

That wasn't the issue. The problem was, we'd sworn to one another that, no matter what, we'd hold each other up in times of weakness. We'd love each other no matter what and be the rock of support for each other no matter why or how we needed it.

So when I realized I couldn't count on him - and I sure shooting couldn't count on my parents - and all my friends were hundreds of miles away - and then heard the news my father was facing the hospital again - I lost it.

Really and truly lost it.

I acted badly. I acted selfishly. I also acted very very REALLY. Until that kind of darkness descends, you have no idea of what it can be like.

I am blessed that I have friends - unlike my family and unlike GoodBuddy who think that everything can be handled by manning up or pulling yourself up by your bootstraps - I have friends who are willing to recognize that I was in dire pain and could call my therapist or take time off of work to drive me to the ER.

I'm not whole hearted yet, but I'm a shoot-load better. I am laughing at jokes and plotting out the future and engaging in activities that will serve to heal myself.

All is not perfect with the fam. But more on that for another time.

All is also not perfect with GoodBuddy I need some answers and I need some clarification. We both know we need to "chat" but our schedules keep missing each other. But while I can't condone nor understand all of his behavior, I also can't imagine a future that he is not in. Maybe that's an abused woman making excuses. Maybe that's a weak woman giving in to "established cultural misogyny" . But I prefer to think that it's my rational coping mechanism when I have been misunderstood all of my life and have finally found someone who - while they don't fit the image or role that I would dream of - still knows and accepts the entire universe that is me.

In short, I don't yet want to think of a future that GoodBuddy is not a part of. When we first lost each other, I spent so much time searching for him. I looked for his truck on Rt. 93, I searched for his face in the Financial District, I heard his voice in my head, I Googled for his obituary on the Internet.

When he finally came back into my life, it was too much to believe. We've both grown and changed so much. Our relationship has so completely evolved. But in the end it boils down to this. We've seen the worst in each other. The very very worst. And we still both want to wake up and say G'day Mi Love and go to sleep and text G'nite MiLove. I don't know what form that will or can take to make sure I'm still sane and healthy as time goes by.

Right now I know I can't argue with a Universe that split us up so completely and then re-united us? I can't. Not right now.

Who are you to tell me?

I've been suffering a lot lately. And a lot of it has to do with how I am navigating the new world order with GoodBuddy. My friends tell me that he treats me bad. That he's cruel. That he's no good for me. And I can see how they see that.

I also know all of the reasons that he is dear to my heart are pretty powerful and making it hard to say goodbye.

My father informed me tonight that he called my therapist and informed her - and consequently me - that me continuing this relationship was like an abused woman returning to the scene of the crime.

GoodBuddy has given me the option of how I want to progress - if at all - with our relationship. And, yes, there are lots of things that anger me and lead me to believe I should tell him to lose my number. He demeaned our relationship. He passively agressively posted things to Facebook instead of dealing with them up front and to my face. But he's also been there for me when things have been really bleak. He's been a rock of support (granted not last week) when I needed him. We've shared laughter and love and intensity and insecurity. It hasn't always been perfect. But it's been real.

He told me the next move was mine to make. And I don't know what I want. I need to think and meditate and consider. What I don't need is for my family - who has never truly understood who or what I am - to tell me what to do.

Life is complicated. It's messy. Sometimes the rational decision isn't the right decision. Sometimes the decision you make with your heart is the worst thing you can do for your soul.

I honestly don't know what's going to happen from here. I want to post nasty things to his FaceBook page. I want to send mile long emails to him outlining everything I'm going through. But I also want it to just go back to being easy, being comfortable. To him making jokes and me getting them. To knowing what each other is thinking, holding each other and letting it all ride out. I don't know if that is possible and, even if it is, I don't know that it's for the best.

Like I said, life is messy. But I need to figure this one out on my own.

What's to say?

I want to say something profound. Something meaningful. I want to say that I've finally stood up for myself, found my center, asserted my dignity.

But all I want is for him to call me.

And he won't.

I hate being a cliche.

Long Time Coming

I posted just the other day about being harsh with Yoga Girl and giving her cold, hard facts.

It's time I drank my own KoolAid.

For weeks - months? - GoodBuddy has been really, seriously, taking me for granted. I get phonecalls that consist of him ranting, raving and justifying for 20 minutes. And then hanging up. Without once asking me how I am or what's going on in my life.

And if I had nothing to report, that might not be so bad.

But I've got lots to report.

1) I'm on my way to happiness. And despite my hesitancy to rely on medication, and despite so many people insisting that depression and/or mental illness could be cured by willpower and determination, I am not going to argue with science, much less tangible success.(For more on this, download the BBC "World Have Your Say" or check out The Happiness Project.)

2) I've gotten a promotion, a raise, and a new hire who reports to me. This is daunting, scary, uplifting and challenging, all at once.

3) The biggest tradeshow of our year is next week

4) Various and sundry other life issues that someone who loves me should care about.

He's told me he realizes he's been neglecting me. He's apologized. He's told me he loves me. And he's done it all in that tone of voice that makes me melt. And, he's called me "baby" and "love" more times than I can count.

But that and $1.91 will get you a medium coffee.

When he does ask me what's going on, his comments are usually on the order of telling me what to do and how I should act. Me: "I gotta get moving. It's bed time." Him: "Yeah, you need your sleep. You need to be on your A Game. Be sharp. You've got a job to do." To which I think, "uh, yeah. Duh.." He acts like my own decisions and my good judgements haven't gotten me this far. I know what I'm doing and sometimes I make mistakes but, in general, I'm doing a damn good job. See point 2.

I need - no, deserve - to be with someone who truly cares about me. Who wants to know what's going on in my life. Who cares. Who wants to be something more to me than the person who judges my choices and dictates my actions. In short, someone who realizes that I'm valuable, intelligent, funny, caring and and a person who has a heart capable of a lot of love.

I used to know I could rely on GoodBuddy for that assurance. Just being with him made me feel whole, special, wanted, at peace. But lately I've felt like I was little more than a microphone. Here to absorb what he said and then be shut off.

I just can't live with that anymore.

so it breaks my heart, but I have to say goodbye. At least until things change. Until he stops taking me for granted. Until he starts caring about me as much as I care for him.

I deserve that much.

Lessons Learned and Learning Lessons

Last night, YogaGirl called. She was technically calling me back about my anxiety over my new hire starting Monday. I hadn't slept a wink and dream land wasn't looking too promising. Fuck, it was the first time I'd managed someone, I don't have my MBA and I've been fucked over enough to know that a bad manager can screw an impressionable mind for a good long time.

I wound up listening to about 45 minutes of YogaGirl going off about her partner. Usually, she's really balanced about this stuff: "I have stuff to share, but you need me to listen to you, so go...' But last night she clearly had a lot of stuff to get off her chest. And, as a friend, I listened to it, openly and honestly.

And then I told her the cold, hard truth. I'd been listening to this same complaint for three years. And if I had a tape recorder, she would not sound like a woman in love. She would sound like a bitter, jaded old married woman. Relationships are hard, but they shouldn't be this hard. After three months of the same old argument - damn! shit or get off the pot.

And then tonight, I called her about my stress with GoodBuddy. He's been in a rough place rfecently, and really needing my validation. But our conversations tend to go like this: "Him. Him. Him. Him. Gotta Go, Bye,"

In case you haven't noticed, I've had a lot going on myself. On the road to recovery from bi-polar disorder. Managing a person, which essentially mean forming a department. Learning how to deal healthfully with CBL. Navigating the possibility of moving to London, Not to mention the big one ---- Re-integrating with the world around me.

And through all of this, GoodBuddy was for all intents and purposed MIA. He did a fair bit of apologizing and making amends tonight when I finally got him on the phone.

But still I realized an important truth when YogaGirl said this, "I know you had the best intentions when you told me this, and so I trust you will understand it when I say: "I've been hearing the same complaint over and over. Girlfriend, shit or get off the pot."

I know she's right. I know I'm right. But there is a large gap between knowing and acting. And that gap is called fear of being alone.

How Can I Sleep With Your Voice In My Head?

Back and almost back to normal. Still slightly jet lagged - I have no idea what day or time it is, but is that really important?

I feel a tangible difference between how I felt pre-London and now. My shoulders are visibilly less hunched, my voice audibly less tight. There are so many things that likely have contributed to this.

I love the UK. My soul sings over there. People seem nicer. Culture seems sharper. Fashion is more forgiving (curves are good!). Food seems more varied (despite the dependance on mayo). Music is more my type, comedy is more my type, news is more inclusive, focus is less exclusive. Suffice to say, I want to be based there. For sure. For ever.

I love the people I work with. I know this is a shock, but the people I work with are smart and funny and sweet and caring. And they seem to actually like me and respect the work I do. Without questioning me or second-guessing me or micromanaging me. It's refreshing.

All that validation in one week. And then there's these two additional factors.

One. I threw CBL under the bus. No safety blanket. I met with HR and told them what's what. It was a risky move, but I finally came to the realization that it was her or my sanity. And, well...

Two. I am going to see A-ha. Live. And in concert. Two nights in a row. There have always been four people in this world that I have longed to see. Eddie Izzard. Check. Mikhail Baryshnikov. Check. Morrissey. Check. Morten Harkett. dot dot dot

Now is my chance.

There's also some stress in the week ahead. For one, GoodBuddy lands at Logan tomorrow for a few days. I am not honestly 100% certain that I am happy about this. But, as always, it will be good for a story or two.

Stay tuned.

Is there an antidote Dr Bruce Banner?

As a young kid, I was incomprehensibly afraid of The Incredible Hulk. The show starred a local hero, Lou Ferigno, who resided just outside of my hometown. For years, every time the show came on, I hid in fear. My father and brother took sadistic delight in tearing off their worn undershirts by flexing and growling, tearing the worn cotten into shreds while chasing me around the house. It threw me into panic attacks for years. Green giants hunted me in the night, ready to turn me into an abomination.

It was only recently, after a particurly intense energy session and a fortuitous watching of the remake of The Hulk (I do love me some Edward Norton), that I seemed to put a bunch of stuff togehter.

The basic premise of The Hulk is that he has all this stuff inside of him that, literally, is too big.

The basic premise of how my parents treated me as a kid is that I had all this stuff inside of me that was too big, too much, and couldn't be handled. Thus, mytemper tantrums. Thus my temper tantrums being subdued with a wooden spoon, a turn in the shower with a freezing cold spray, a hearty spanking or a faked heart attack. No one thinks at the time that they're abusing their child, but who pays for the therapy?

In many way, lately, I've felt like GoodBuddy felt the same way about me. He wasn't interested or couldn't hear what I had to say - he was just going to tell me the what's what. Because taking in my side of things was really just too much. Too big. Too intense. I honestly don't think that was his intention, but that was the result I walked away with. It's the difference between what is said and what is heard.

GB told me that I don't get to get upset at anything he says because I should know he unconditionally loves me. My response was to point out that when I mock his mumbling (he oftentimes speaks too quickly or too near/far from his cellphone and is unintelligable) he gets pissed. Wicked pissed. His mother used to mock him that way and it triggers his anger. So - HELLO - Mr Pot, please meet Ms Kettle. We all react to people in our lives the way we've been conditioned to from childhood. When he disregarded my feelings - valid or not - I flashed right back to being chased by an older brother embodying The Hulk or a father who wouldn't listen to my pleas as he grabbed the wooden spoon from th kitchen drawer. And, that, my dear readers, is some powerful recall.

As you can tell, I've been doing a lot of thinking about this. Thinking that maybe it was time for me - GB and I - to redefine our parts in one anothers' life. If I am trying to heal, to get centered, to become comfortable with who I am, does it make sense for me to be expending all this energy, all this love, on someone who can't seem to allow the reality of who I am to evolve...?

Then...

Tonight, I was leaving him a VM. It was nothing really. Watching a movie. Going to bed soon. Had a good day, hope you did too." In the midst of it, he beeped in. Somehow (technologically ignorant as I am) I managed to switch over.

"Just leaving you a message."

"I saw. Can we can call it a night?"

"Um, yea. Sure. Everything OK?"

"Yeah. I was getting some texts from someone and they really pissed me off and I'm raging and I don't wan't - should't - take this out on you. Cuz I'm fuckin angry and frustrated and I really don't want you to get caught up in that. And even if we try to talk normal, I'll bring it out on you. So, can we talk tomorrow or something?"

Wow. How decent. Seriously. How thoughtful and kind. Just when I really wanted to tell him to take along walk off a short pier, he reminds me of one of the reasons I love him. Of course, he spent a bunch of time in the water today and that probably helped a lot. But I'm wicked glad to see shadows of Dr. Jekyll in lieu of Mr. Hyde.

So, as many conclusions as I come to, alone in my bed on a Saturday night, maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't take any definitive action. Because our past isn't always our present, and definitely doesn't have to be our future. Maybe things - people - evolve.

Sweet dreams, good buddy. I'll think good thoughts.

Part Two, which is less amusing

So, I am having a good laugh about my Losers' Club day. One must realize, at this point, that I kind of revel in Losers' Club stories. They're Seinfeld-esque, they're David Sedaris-esque, they give me fodder for which I can utter the words (in true sincerity) "...mynovel's gonna be great!"

So, I relate the story to BFF, she loves it. I relate it to ChirpBoy, he loves it. We laugh, we share. Alls good. I get home, I get settled, I'm about to go to sleep and realize my brain is racing. No biggie - I just so happen to be in the middle of a trashy, vampire smut novel. (I alternate, thought-provoking book/junkfood book/thought-provoking book/junkfood book. Keeps me balanced.)

I'm in bed, quietly reading, when my roomie decides to start having sex with his "not girlfriend." I kid you not. Ever seen Secret of My Success?

Amidst all of this, GoodBuddy texts me. He's in "a mood." There's been a lot of this lately. I know he reads my blog and he's sure to argue, but it's true. Whereas he used to be mostly carefree and happy-go, now he's mostly serious, pensive and, above all, domineering. No more the silly laughter, now it's all "this is how it is and this is what I'm planning and you need to do this and you should feel this and this or that needs to happen." It really does make me sad sometimes.

So, yes, I was tired and cranky and probably a little ticked that my roommate was having sex and the last time I'd had sex was a long time ago (sorry, TMI but still). In the interest of full disclosure, I was also a bit ... tipsy. During the conversatin, I began to relate my Losers' Club story. I'll admit I could have been sounding bitchy to the outside ear - but boy oh boy did GB get all up in my grill.

In short: I'm better than that. I still have a job. I'm not stuck in Haiti. I'm above this bitching and whining. I need to get over myself.You don't get to feel sorry for yourself. Fucking man up.

Basically telling me the exact same message that I've been dealing with my whole life: my feelings aren't valid, they're "too much", my experience of the world isn't legit and I should feel shame for that.

(Thank you, yes, I did have therapy today. I heart it.)

So, I got upset. No. Strike that. I got fucking pissed off as shit. I wanted a friend. Someone to commiserate with, to laugh with. To understand that, yes, I'd had a shitty day. No, it wasn't the worst day in the world and I realized I wasn't dying of cancer or getting fired or living through devastation or elsewise having a life-shattering event. But, it had in fact been garden variety shitty day. And, geez, only me...

The net/net is that I'm still thinking he and I are not on the same page about this, or to be honest, much, these days. And as much as he wants to protest, I think a large part of it is the place he's in and not the place I'm in. Although, yes, of course, everything is in mutuality and relation. But I think that the path I'm on - and have been working towards - is telling me that voice inside my head that says, "fuck you, my feelings count" is the right voice to listen to. Because I am NOT striving to be some superhuman-Buddha-Guru-Englightened-Omniscient Being. I just want to BE. Utterly and essentially, be a human being. A me-flavored human popsicle. I'd be perfectly and amazingly content with that.

So there.

Eye Opening

Heya.

It's been long time 'twixt posts. Which, of course, makes me think of Twix. Which makes me think of YUM.

I've been on the road a lot. And, granted, some of this was nominally "for fun" but much of it was for work. And due to current emotional/mental climates, none of it really did me any good.

I got to see GoodBuddy. And this was good. And Bad. I'm not in the best place emotionally and clearly neither is he. (He'd argue that, but fuck you). So, yes, there were the best of times and there were the worst of times. I still truly believe that this move is not in his best interest, but I understand why he needs to give it his all and how many positive things can come from it.

I am also feeling - shocking enough - like I might be rounding a corner in my own well being. Yes, I'm still finding it hard to get up in the monings, much less get out to work, pressed and dressed, and actually care about what I'm doing. But, I can remember what it was like to care and I am experiencing the desire to go back there, so that is good.

I'm reading Mary Forsberg's Fall to Pieces (link at later date) and finding it very compelling. Even laughable how fucking similar our situations can be - her an LA model marroied to an international movie star, me a nobody from nowhere - but still....

I need to get some rest tonight because part of my new years resolution was to make the most of my mental health efforts. And I get to see Awesome Therapist tomorrow. In a few weeks I will visit London and that will no doubt do me a world of good.

I will try to update soon with more. Sorry I've been so MIA.

Randomosity

Out of the blue, about two years ago, GB popped up on my AOL messenger. A few hours later, we were sharing stories over a Bud Light and Jack Daniels in a bar. He's now probably the most important person in my life. A reality that should and must change, given all that is going on.

In a completely unrelated happenstance, I spent many hours a few nights ago exchanging stories with a long lost friend. Now, our last interaction wasn't exactly the most positive. And, to be frank, he's not re-finding me on my best footing. But, still, re-find each other we did.

So, here's where this gets complicated. Long lost friend (let's call him JeepBoy) used to live in Florida. And has friends down there. So, I said, hey, fly down and meet me down there while I spend NYE with GoodBuddy.

Then GoodBuddy tells me a friend of his might actually be there as well. And I get upset.

OK - here's the back story. Last night, GB passed out and didn't answer any of the gazillion phonecalls I put in to him. I called a mutual friend and told him, "I invited a friend down to FL to meet up. And now GB isn't answering my call. Is he passed out or is he pissed?" And mutual friend said, "Look, maybe he was really looking forward to spending time with you. Alone. Quality time." And I liked that. I hung onto that.

So, when I got upset that GB mentioned our time together might be shared, I was totally and utterly hippo critical. I have absolutely no right to be upset. Still, I can't help but be a little disappointed.

Because, the stark and nekkid reality is, I miss our long talks, our honest reality-bites discussions. And we're probably not going to get to have any of those now. And, while I'm glad he will have a lot of his friends surrounding him during the holiday, the part of me that wanted to be his one and only "special" friend is really, very sad.