Honesty

So, I feel I owe it to you, my readers, to explain a little bit of the BS I've been going through lately. Because, although I am quite sure some of it IS biological, some of it is circumstantial. And here's the rub.

GoodBuddy is leaving. Granted, it's not forever and it's not like it's (whatever the fuck it IS between us) is over. So, it's like a breakup but I don't get to go through the anger or even the real heartbreak.

I know that he is doing the absolutely right thing. And I wicked admire how he has pulled his shit together and gotten it right. In fact, I'm quite envious. And we all know how well I handle envy.

As the only person who truly knows the ENTIRE me. I know that he worries about me (and I quote) "being obsessed with him", but the obsession is really this: sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. Because, as he said tonight, sometimes you get to a point where you look in a mirror and you wonder "who the hell is that person?" I am there right now. And I have been putting all the right pieces in place to figure out who I want to be and how to get there. (And, yes, GB, if you don't like my new haircut, FU. I tried something new and it will grow out.) But, in the meantime, not having someone there who knows me, respects me and adores my potential is going to be tough.

So, folks, here it is - the explanation. I am losing my best friend, my closest confidante, my lover and my "always will be there guy." And while I am putting in place the stepping stones for a wicked amazing life ahead, the path just ahead may just be a bit uphill.

I realize this post is a bit scattered, but that's how I've been feeling lately. Manic depressive much? Bi polar often? Who knows. I just know that I'm finally facing up to his leaving and it's leaving me not the better for the wear.

Also...

When depressed, I cannot be trusted with Pop Tarts.

That is all.

I'm no Lance

I've got a pretty severe case of the Fuckitz right now, a result, I'm sure of far too many 70 hour work weeks. It's been tough for me to even get out of bed right now, much less showered and productive. My roommate must think I actually AM a vampire.

I admitted to YogaChick how down I was and she talked me through it, ending with "I still trust you with your shoelaces." When I asked her if she was certain of that she laughed and said, "Yes. While we were talking you were also scooping out the kitty litter. Someone who is actually suicidal would not clean up cat shit."

She has a point.

I remember reading It's Not About the Bike, the inspirational Lance Armstrong autobiography, a few years ago. At his sickest, Lance still rode 10 miles every day, convincing himself that if he could still ride he couldn't be dying.

Lance rode 10 miles a day. I scoop cat litter. Whatever it takes, I guess.

Random

Several weeks ago, my iPod was stolen. Annoying, but not a huge deal, as I am not a huge iPod user.

In an effort to save some cash, I replaced my old "regular" iPod w/ an iPod Shuffle. I copied over my top playlists and then supplemented with some select favorites.

I have now been using the Shuffle for a week.

I hate it.

I have no control over what I want to listen to. It shouts at me whatever it decides I want to hear. I realize that this is the point of the Shuffle. I still hate it.

Draw your own metaphorical meaning from this. I simply observe.

Going to attempt to be gentle with myself

I was supposed to have a brand new year, a brand new me, with the start of a Celtic new year, Samhain, November 1. Didn't happen. I worked until 6:45 tonight and barely made the 7:40 train to Beverly. And then had to drive 30 mins...

I, of course, have no one to blame but myself. No one is holding a gun to my head making me work 13 hours. No one is telling me that "sorry, I couldn't get to it" isn't a legitimate excuse when you're clearly working more than 10 hours a day. Still...

But tonight I called YogaChick, who gave me a bit of perspective:

"You ARE being really hard on yourself. Just take a step back and stop looking at what you haven't done and look at what you can do. So, your new year didn't happen Nov 1. Maybe it happens Nov 3. And people know how great you are. What you do this week, or next, won't really matter in the long run.

I know she's right. And so I shall try to begin this year's new year from here on in. A video I found on YouTube can only help.



I have a plot and some character ideas this year as it is, so the rest should be gravy. Plus, here's anticipating I actually succeed in doing something for me .