Yet again, only me

It's been a rough few weeks. I should have been posting but I just haven't had the energy or motivation...

I am going to be very honest with you, my readers. Here's the deal. I am depressed.

I don't mean that I have the blues or that I've been in the dumps or that things haven't been going according to plan. I mean depressed. Clinical. Biological.

I have enough family medical history to know the difference between having a bad couple of days and having your brain chemistry be off. And as much as I hate to admit it or give in to it, I think my brain chemistry is off.

I went 10 days with no booze, nine yoga classes, lots of meditation, beaucoup de journalling and a fair amount of energy work. And I still wound up laying in bed wondering if my generous life insurance policy was still effectiive in cases of suicide. Not that I want to kill myself. I'm just checking, is all...

Today, the amazing wonderful therapist confirmed that maybe looking into meds wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Conveniently, I have a doctor's appt tomorrow.

The ironic thing about all of this is - I had an AMAZING day with Good Buddy today. We went to the beach. We played in the water. We were goofy and fun and didn't dwell on the painful shit in either of our lives. We just enjoyed each other. Also, a friend from Philly visited and we had a great night. Not the best conversation of all time (Ralph, take note, you still win!) but good. A balanced, happy, centered human being would feel good about this. Point made.

So, yes, only me. I see all of the things that are happening that should make me happy. And I want to be happy. So desperately. So vigilantly.. But, right now I am afraid it just ain't happening.

Me and the Mo's

I seem to attrack Mormons like moths to a flame.

What? you ask? How random!

I offer the following evidence:

My first boyfriend - you know, the boy you "married" when you're four and playing kickball or flashlight tag out in the suburban neighborhood that is your great big world before you enter school? - was a morman. His mother thought I was a bad influence because I took ballet classes. Clearly, she knew of my demonic tendencies to plie and releve. (Tendu, anyone?)

One of my favorite movies, Latter Days, is about a gay Mormon boy.

I lived in Belmont just during the time the LDS temple was getting built. Can you imagine how many Mormons there were running around Belmont when that thing opened?

Earlier this spring, I was randomly in Harvard Square (I'm NEVER in Hvd Sq these days...), enjoying a slice of pizza at The Garage, when three Elders walked in and sat down at the table next to me.

On my way to Baltimore a few weeks ago, there was an entire HERD of them waiting at the baggage carousel.

And now, there's a cluster in Gloucester.

I kid you not. I saw two of them walking while I was bicycling to the Cape Ann Farmers Market last Thursday. I nearly bowled them over as the wandered along the side of the street without sidewlak.

"On your left. ON YOUR LEFT! ON! YOUR! LEFT!"

I should have added, "So far on your left you'll get whiplash if you even try to catch my eye."

But I didn't.

So, is this enough "Mo" to convince you of the random connection? No? How about this?

THERE ARE THREE MORMONS SITTING BEHIND ME ON THE TRAIN. READING SCRIPTURE. OUT LOUD.

Oy vey!

Northeast Corrider

Once again, it's been way too long since my last post. I don't even know where I would begin to fill you in, if I wanted to. I've been doing a lot of "inside work" lately - trying to hold onto the really good energy I'd cultivated while on vacation even as many things around me shift and shudder.

I've decided I am going to get a roommate. And it looks like it's down to two. In fact, if one of them calls me back this afternoon and answers some of my questions satisfactorily, it'll be down to one. This is going to be a major upheaval in my life, but I think the net/net will be for the overall good.


Speaking of good - GoodBuddy is falling apart at the seams but quick. Things in his life have been fairly out of kilter. After all the times he's been there for me - held me up and held me together - I really want to be there for him. It's just that I have no idea how. I'll say something thinking I'm being compassionate and he'll want me to make a joke. Or, I'll change the subject and he'll want to linger. As I said to my friend (forthwith to be called ChirpChirp), I know I can't make it any better. I just don't want to make it any worse.

And then, of course, there's work. As I type, I am sitting on the Acela Express to Philadelphia (or, as we called it growing up, FilthyDelphia.) I'll be there until Friday, then home for a weekend with the rents and my best friend, then home for a whopping 11 hours before I head to Boston for our "Team Meeting." (CBL - Fuck yea!). I've been putting in longlonglong hours at the office and logging back in when I get home. Still, I am able to approach the workload - and the interactions - with some semblance of peace and sanity.

These and various and sundry other things have kept me challenged over the last few weeks. But I am doing my best to keep the joys - small and large - in my mind for those times when it gets overwhelming. This week, we will celebrate my dad's birthday. A birthday we weren't sure he'd see. I saw the sunrise over the harbor this morning and smelled a thunderstorm rolling in. And, of course, the fact that yoga is available to me - to everyone - every day and every moment of our lives if we choose to practice it.

So, sorry for the ramble down randomness that this post has been. I will do my best to return to our regularly scheduled blogging. But, I felt it was important to get us all back on track. You know, since I'm on a train and all.... (ha ha ha ha I'm so damn funny.)

PostScript

Noticing that, on this, my birthday occasion, I am posting a lot about children and parenting.

I'm not sure if this indicates that somehow, someway my subliminal karmic biological clock is ticking or what...

But, never fear. I will not breed anytime soon.

The world does not need any more MiniMe's.

Trying Not to Judge

On the train home tonight, I had the pleasure of sharing space with one of the most obnoxious mother/child pairs I have ever experienced.

I didn't want to judge. Not the child. Not the mother. I'm not a parent, nor will I ever be. So how can I possibly understand?

But I will tell you this. I am in a LOT of therapy.

At first, I thought "Is this child's name Damien? IS he the antichrist?"

But then I listened.

The mother did nothing but tell this child what he would NOT do. "You will NOT hit me." "You will NOT sit on my lap." "You will NOT scream."

She gave the child no other options. No explanations for what he was feeling or what she was instructing him to do. She used very limited vocabulary and very negative terminology.

She also took three calls from her BabyDaddy - on speakerphone - and instructed him to, "Hurry. I put up with this shit. I'm going to hit this kid."

No, I do not have childre n. I understand that I will never understand the mortification of having a child screaming at full-lung volume in a public place and not being able to do anything about it. Hell, I was one of those kids. (Which is why I wound up in a therapist's office at age 3.) But I do know enough about therapy, parenting, humanity, and psychological development to know that this woman should never, ever be allowed to have kids.

Remember that the next time you ask me if I don't feel like my life is valuable without children.