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“Oh yeah there’s a smile when the pain comes… pain’s gonna make everything alright, alright yeah…”  This song, “She Talks to Angels” was released by The Black Crowes in 1989 – the year after my accident, the year I began cutting myself, unable to find any other way to ease my pain.  Pain did make everything alright for me – it was a way to feel somewhat alive, seeing the blood escape through the cut.  I wanted to die, yes, but I didn’t want to kill myself…not at this point.  I simply wanted to cease existing. I listened to this song a lot in those days, because Chris was singing what my soul was feeling.

My little one: today my client shared the solution for sadness was jumping from the bed to the “fluffy” beanbag, because “when I feel sad I like to jump into fluff because it makes me happy, happy and happy.”  Glad I’m happy, happy and happy because finding a beanbag for me might prove disappointing.

Busy, busy, busy…Day Two.  These two days are so orchestrated that my thoughts understand there is no time for misshape.  Prog notes go well, calls are made…I really think I freak my mind into understanding it simply cannot fuck around on these days.  Today,  I set my brand new card-holder (!) with my anonymous note in its place on my desk and my heart beat so proudly.  I’m beginning to feel officialer and officialer.  I left after a 9 hour day.  I enjoy days like today.

Shopping, then home, listening to the Giants.  It is the wildcard game and this is the first game I will have “watched” (heard) all season.  I hate that, but it has been such a whirlwind with work, so much to do, to remember.  Despite having bought GameDay, I used it rarely.  I made chicken soup in the pressure cooker.  And listened. Ethan and I ate soup.  And listened.  Still 0-0, 7^th inning.  Listening…every muscle tense.  Suddenly the Giants win – thanks to Gillespie and Madbum – three to nothing.  Onto the Wrigley Field On Friday.  This is gonna be a great Friday night: KNBR and a fire.

I am so proud of my kids – both of them.  Did they do something special today?  Abso-fuckin-lutely.  They were themselves.  I have more fun with them than I can describe (though life it isn’t always perfect, as I can attest to – I suddenly have a 13 year old teenager whose eyerolls have reached perfection status).  My boy hugs me all the time.  My daughter is singing to me.  I am grateful, grateful, and grateful!.  As I listen to Mags practice ukulele, I urge you to love your children.  Give them your time, your undivided attention..doing so shall result in magic, this I promise.

Pictures: My cardholder with my favorite note; A drawing of a man digging for the treasure; Mags playing Bob Marley.

This morning was a lifetime ago, but let’s see where the day began:

I saw three scratches of clouds in the sky near Wicked Tree as I was in the kitchen collecting my coffee, so I ran to my room to capture it on film, yet alas…the clouds had dispersed by then. A cloud-free-fucking sky.  Ewww.  The kids were on task and heeded my time warnings well: we left ahead of schedule for my early Tuesday.

I try, most mornings, to hold off on pain meds for as long as possible – kind of an “I dare ya” mindset – yet this morning I had forgotten the medicine at home completely, along with my purse, which didn’t make for a good beginning.  As a topic for the meeting last night I chose “awareness” because I think little signs are given to us all the time.  This one was hilarious.  I forgot my own damn meds on the the busiest weekday.  The incongruity between my assumed mindset and my actions is often comical.

Busy day – dash to parenting class where I found myself yet again caught between a rock and a very uncomfortable place.  I say “uncomfortable” as opposed “hard” because it is a skills set I need to acquire… just haven’t done so yet.  This is simply the point of setting a boundary and becoming secure in wearing my therapist hat….  Then back to the campus to children.

If I don’t think about it, it isn’t hard to do at all.  Just show up, throw on your swimsuit, dive in the pool (well, jump) and get going.  I did it.  Doubled the amount I had done last Tuesday (yes, it’s been that long since I’ve been here) a little hot tub, shower and then I’m gone again.  I’m trying to get to the point of swimming in the early a.m. – like 5:30 in the a.m.  Yikes.  Not quite there yet, but soon, soon.

Stuff.  Always The Stuff.  Now that The Boy is in high school, it seems The Girl is next on the list/chopping block.  I dunno.  Let’s just say I am eager for the school year to be nearing its end.  Granted, there is a while to go yet, as it’s early October, but there are parts I am certainly ready to bid farewell to.  Frustrations with both schools contacting me regarding our children, then certain hims getting frustrated with the kids (?!?!) when I phone him to share in the responsibilities of parenting.  Really???  At least the Ween tickets are sold to a dude in Hawaii.  Yay!  Hopped on the bike at Ethan’s request and we rode around the block with our headlamps on under the Big Dipper.  That was fun….  Makes me think of my Site 9 friends. I miss Hipnic.

Picture: Chalk art

 

This morning, my daughter told me that I was wearing “too many layers.”
“Oh, but my darling,”  I responded, “It’s perfect because I’m an onion.”

And I am.  There’s this part of me – the “real” part, as I like to call her.  Onion-like, I keep myself layered, peeling off parts when necessary.  She keeps me in check….sometimes.  I heard all those lovely words yesterday from Tim.  I’ve heard them from others…we all have, right?  Humanity is about being kind and supportive of others,  and we do so through words (complimentary) and actions (being there for people).  Yet the next morning, I wonder how I could have felt like that – all beautiful and talented because… look at me….  This is my alter-ego.  The less-Than.  A lovely British gentleman I work with questioned why I’m “always so down on myself.”  I don’t see it as being “down” on myself,  rather than staying humble.  I think I can be confident while also being like the aforementioned, yes?

The morning was perfect because it was…cloudy and drizzling (later).  I stepped outside onto the wet deck in my bare feet and inhaled that sweet smell as deeply as I could.   At work, suddenly, somehow organization seemed to be taking center stage and this learning curve I’ve been experiencing is becoming shorter and less…curvy.  It’s as if moving to Jen’s spot is feeding me knowledge and I’m gaining organization via osmosis.  I was lucky to meet J-Ber for lunch.  She was in her first day of training and I think she will enjoy it.  She thinks so, too (which is most important, right?).

I headed back to the doctor.  I have spent a lot of time, energy and money trying all sorts of remedies to keep this pain at bay:  books, stuff, things, more stuff, different things.    Fuck – I have missed 6 Hips shows?  I’m selling tickets to Ween.  Anyone who knows me surely understands this does not come lightly.  And yet, because I am “upfront and honest” with the doctors each time, this one gave me a limit: 3 months of pain pills and that’s it – even though it took me 6 months, plus last time to heal.   It’s shit like this that makes me not want to be honest.  I am the one who is in tears, I am the one who doesn’t do anything I’d like because it hurts too badly, but this person – and I do understand why – won’t give me more pain pills.  The funny thing (for me) is that my max amount of pills taken on 2 separate days (once for the Dead show and once last Saturday) is 6 pills.  People I know took 30 pills, 50 pills, 75 pills a day.  Yet…I I get 60 pills for the month and that’s it.  Sigh….  Yes, I’m keeping my side of the street clean, to be sure, but damn, I‘d make a shitty drug addict.

I got home and did a quick nap with the heating blanket on my back.    I couldn’t nap for long though as I had an Important Event:  I was chairing a meeting at an AA group, which is something I haven’t done for a good minute.  It was at a place I have not been in years, and initially I was a worried because I am not following the “preferred method” done by many, and yet, I think about what AA’s primary purpose is – to be able to live life on life’s terms without the use of alcohol, that is exactly what I am doing.  I have gone back to school – three times, gotten few more degrees and am now living the life I could never have lived had I been drinking. It was an incredible meeting – saw many faces I know and was able to experience one of those beautiful spiritual “aha” moments.  I loveloveLOVE being sober.

Pictures:  There she goes! Jen is off with her Star-Wars figures; My organized space where I’m getting shit done!

I have been sleeping so nicely since the temps dropped – actually I think a big part of it may be the Magnesium supplements, but let’s pretend I’m supplementally sufficient.  I had a Very Important Luncheon Date  to prepare for, so I showered, dressed and hit the road.

<This doesn’t “count”, but insert a VERY long paragraph about people driving in the left lane>

I think it has been since 1989, 27 years, since I have seen Tim.  Of the few remaining English class memories I have (junior high and sophomore year until I returned from my car accident – then I was moved into an easier class; I looked  through yearbooks and even with pictures cannot recall the teachers), Tim is there.  I wanted to introduce him to the best Middle Eastern cuisine I have ever had, but they were closed, so we walked  to a different restaurant and spent the next several hours talking.

I miss talking…I’ve missed conversing with someone.  Yes, I see people at shows, yes, I have some dear friends that I’ve met through the Mother Hips, but the talking for hours…yeah, that.  We went through drinks (me, 2 pee-trips worth of water; him, a fancy beer that was complexly “hoppy”) and appetizers while we spoke.  We watched (by proxy) the Giants clinch the wildcard while we spoke.  This man, this former kid who sat behind me in class  – so many complimentary words , so much kindness from this man who made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing on Earth.  I felt a bit guilty because this time,  I was doing all the talking. He even said he could help me with my book….

And soon, far too soon, I had to go.  It was an at-least two hour drive home, probably more not only because of the usual weekend traffic heading back to the hills, but also earlier Hardly Strictly fans,  and the Giants game ending.  Please insert another paragraph about You-Know-Who Drivers.  I’m getting closer to finishing The Martian on audio book, but it’s so technical at points that I tune out and don’t really focus on what is happening.  Too linear….

At home, the rain had mostly fallen, but I was granted audience to exceptional cloud formations.  The boy had prepared the stove:  soon a fire was blazing as Ethan and I watched The Finest Hours. Mags, in all her “togetherness” reviewed for an upcoming math test.   Another weekend passed by far too quickly.  Still – I’m pumped about my J-desk at work.  I have plants for extra-oxygen, a picture frame of the kids in their younger years for inspiration and lots of Dixon-Ticonderoga pencils (the world’s best pencil!) for notes.  Surely it’ll be a terrific week.     `

Pictures: Goodbye, City.  Hope to be back soon; Beautiful clouds

This morning went … from joy to heartbreak.  This morning I danced closely with my son, swaying to “Oh Josephine” knowing that this is the song I will share with him for the mother/son dance at his wedding. We have gone through many struggles, he and I.  Struggles I have felt right alongside with him.  I know how depression tears down your soul and I also know the “fuck you, there’s nothing wrong with me” feeling.  This morning, I held this young  man in my arms and knew we’d soon be leaving for Sabrina’s memorial.  The tears fell harder.

We stopped by The Bike Shop  to pick up Ethan’s bike.  He was remembered there and told that once he is old enough, he could work there if he likes.  His face lit up.  Ethan mentioned a few months ago that he was hoping to work here when he was old enough to get a work permit.  So cool.

Yeah, so apparently I’m emotional.  Crying after watching an Aussie compete well in an agility course several months ago should’ve been the first hint.  Yet these last few weeks have been emotions taken to an entirely new level as our school has witnessed every parent’s worst nightmare in the loss of a child.  Ethan and I went to the memorial, which was from ten until sunset.  Once again, so many familiar faces that had been a part of my everyday life when I worked at CMP.  I saw two young ladies who had been in the 6^th grade class I’d co-taught in:  I had thought of them just that morning as I put on a pair of “crazy” socks I’d bought because of them…and here they stood.  The memorial was…heartbreaking.  To hear dad talk about marrying and burying his daughter in the same year (weeks apart)…there was no holding back the tears.  I saw kids, parents, so many… crying.  And my boy, he knew…he let me hold him and cry on his shoulder for quite some time…just after I’d written on last night’s post that I couldn’t do that.

I headed to Maggie’s volleyball tournament.  Start time was one o’clock, yet for whatever reason, the girls didn’t play until two hours later.  But I ran into someone whom I had worked with…she works at the place our J-Ber is moving to, and she is also an incredible volleyball coach, so I talked to her a bit about things Maggie could do to improve her game such as clinics and workshops.  I also spoke to my “little one” about the dance last night and how it went.  She had a wonderful time and…had some very exciting news about the boy she likes.  But…I can’t go spilling the beans now, can I?

After a disappointing  game, I headed back to the memorial.  There were still many people there, a  softball  game was in session and I spotted Ethan in his outfielder position.  I talked to Des and Tatjana – good talks…funny talks…realistic talks.  I successfully said “no thanks” to many offers of cake, co-discussed dildos and silicone and something about not drinking alcohol.  Then to hear Des reminisce that 9 weeks ago, not too far away, she had attended Sabrina’s wedding, and now here we were.  Ethan and I left to go deliver some things, then headed home where we watched some tv together.  I thanked The Boy for being there for me.  Soon, I’ll go to bed for tomorrow – rain, San Francisco and lunch with Tim.

Pictures: Mags serves; Today

This morning I was reminded that my “Mother of the Year” award shall soon be rescinded.  Mags, tired from her immersion school field trip, asked if she could sleep an extra half hour instead of getting up to go volunteer at her school’s fund raiser – the Friday morning  ‘Quoia Café.  I said, “sure!” without a second though (until 3 seconds later when all this shit ^ hit me).  I should have said  “Nope – up and at ‘em!  You are a manager and everyone else is tired, too.” yet I did not because sleep, well, that’s gold to me.  Oh well.  Perhaps next year….

This morning – one of the quarterly times of the year I longed to be with someone.  No – not sexually..necessarily (tmi?), but simply BE.  I long, sometimes, talking with someone, feeling them, hearing their voice.  There is much that companionship with another brings us; support, friendship, understanding.  My kids – Oh my god I love them to the moon and back a thousand times, but I can’t (necessarily, though I often do) have adult conversations with them, or cry on their shoulder… and  I need that sometimes.  Today I thought of someone as I was driving to work, and as I was reminded of a few weeks ago life can end in an instant, so I told that person I felt them in my heart today.  Solitude has been wonderful.  I’m not done with it yet, this I know.  Yet once in a while, I really miss having a partner to share life with.

My thoughts.  They race, they speed, they partially ponder concepts before dashing off to another and often times, depending who I’m with, I attempt to verbalize them.  This is a fucking joke because my biggest complaint since my head injury all those years ago is “I can’t find the right words.”  During supervision today this issue came up.  I must learn to think in a more linear fashion, which is difficult for me – I long to be able to do so, yet don’t…can’t.  I’ve been graced with intuitiveness, feeling others’ pain, but I have to be able to transfer this to words.  How do I do this linear thinking?  Surely there’s a book on it (joking).

Group was fabulous today.  We did our book work, but we also processed and that was wonderful.  I remember being a kid, being in trouble, not feeling that anyone understood me.  I don’t want these clients to feel that way, I’d like to help create a safe place for them – a place where they feel understood and cared about.

An appointment with Nicole then back to work to close out some clients.  That damn, Penelope.  I swear I’m going to make a voodoo doll.  How in the hell am I supposed to get notes done in 10 minutes if I can’t even find anything?!  Soon, time to head home on a Friday night.  Too tired to head to the gym tonight.  I think I’ll have to do 5-in-the- morning swims/workouts, but for now…bed.

Pictures: Almost ready to head home; Post-Nicole appointment…feeling sexy enough to..head back to the office <frown>

It’s a little easier with one child, – of course that’s a gimme.  Ethan and I had a gentle morning.  I dropped him off and headed to…work.  I wanted to get the booklets printed out for group at my school site before heading up to Pollock Pines for my client.  Dashing in, started the printing, then racing up the hill.  I was 4 minutes late.

The day tumbled into an onslaught of clients, groups, the bitchiness that is Penelope (our system) and pure joy with the Chaos that is work.  I thrive when there is no time to think, simply go, go, go, next client, next task, next client.

As the workday ended around 5:20, I began the task of moving my initial desk over to the desk which was Jen Berry.  This desk has much more room than mine did, as it has no computer monitor there (I use my laptop).  The books J-Ber gave me, the books I have myself, they will now have room.  It is going to be a whole different world without Jen there.  She has been here for 7-8 years.  Jen and I have known each other about 11 years – and I know her leaving our work place won’t change that, but man, there will be a huge hole at work.

I headed home and honked for Ethan.  We headed to pick up some dinner – to be honest I was thinking of Chinese food, if only for its location – next to Frank Vilt’s Bakery.  Sadly Frank shared he didn’t have anything to sell due to “an emergency of sorts.“  Oh hell.  Is there another ‘someone like me’ in town?  We got our dinner then Ethan requested to drive in a gated community where he had lived with his dad’s girlfriend.  He drove around the beautiful homes and hills of the community, giving us more precious time together as the sun set over the gold-painted hills which is home.  As this kid grows up, he and I share so many delightful and in-depth conversations.  Tonight, as he cautiously droves us around empty neighborhoods, we shared in yet another.  Moments like these.

Tonight,  Ethan and I watched Gladiator again, and  I sat, making comments, suddenly seeing my dad…doing the same thing as I was a child, interrupting whichever show I was watching with his jovial personality before walking away.  I do the same, but sadly my kids will never know my father’s jokes nor his wit. I miss that man.

Still, I am my father’s daughter.

Picture: As the many reminders of Jen’s years at __ are removed, I slowly begin to move in.  Carl Jung welcomes me and Bob reminds me daily that “Every little thing is gonna be alright.”

Really, it’s just a matter of time.  Little pieces of evidence fling themselves needlessly in my face, which is ludicrous as I already  know.  Allow me to explain…:

This morning, driving Mags to her super-early field trip meeting (I thought she was supposed to be there at a quarter to seven, but she generously shared (I know, I know – I could have read the school letter, but when?) she didn’t have to be there til 7, so I told her about the Maroon 5 “Sugar” song and while explaining I once again got misty-eyed.  Clearly, I’m not the rugged badass bitch  I see myself as.

Tuesday are a whirlwind and today more so due to a crisis session during my lunch (which I usually spend doing paperwork, anyway, but today there was no time).  Client, group, crisis, client, family, client and then as I was walking out the door there was a parent, which added another hour.  These are not easy cases, either.  Many are rip-your-heart-out while crying-your-eyes-out.  It makes for a very messy situation, and a very exhausting one..because not even counting the paperwork (which is a comatose nightmare all in itself) these situations are tough to deal with.

I made it home much later – so didn’t have time to go by work to run off copies for a group I start tomorrow. I’ll try to get that done for me while I’m up the hill.  I came home to make a delicious Swiss meal and then…Ethan and I headed to the gym.  My aching muscles were dying for that pool and..of course, when we got there, I noticed there was an class in the pool.  So I hot sauna’d for 20 minutes, hot tub, and then…water.  It massaged me so perfectly as I did sets for a while.  Initially, my times and form were kick-ass.  I emphasize initially, because let’s remember, it has been a couple decades since I did this on a regularl basis. I wasn’t long til I got out and headed to the showers.  Lemme tell ya, after feeling not-so-hot versus those lovely 20-something’s at High Sierra, I walked naked proudly in this locker room. It all depends on your surroundings, sure, but let’s talk again in 25 years.  Then somehow – somewhere between the locker room and the parking lot, my swimsuit went missing.  Dammit.  HOW?!?!  This is the third time I’ve worn it.  I hope the club can find it, lying abandoned somewhere….  As for other stuff?  Mags is off on her field trip, Ethan is here with me and we occasionally Jackie Chan one another (A long but fun story for another night when I’m not emotionally and physically exhausted).  My body is quite mad at me for making it do painful things and  I’m not so sure how great yesterday’s exercises where for my back.  I’m tired of not doing  what I enjoy and hiking season (rain/snow) is almost upon us.  I must prepare.

Does the story end on a high note?  Laughing, filled with joy?  Not necessarily, because life isn’t always as such.  Sometimes we are faced with reality and more somber moments.  It’s all good, just an ever-so-brief teen moment.  Getting rid of Ego on my end is crucial, because it isn’t about me.  I hope I can always remember that.

Picture:  Cantaloupe – cut  (so I’m one step closer), yet still not consumed.

A snapshot of my life:  Dropped off Ethan, Dropped off Maggie.  Next song on the radio was “Sugar” by Maroon 5 and within minutes I had tears POURING down my face.  Okay, so I get that this is a song written about a romantic partner, but I ignore those parts..to me this song is about my kids.    “My broken pieces, you pick them up, don’t leave me hanging, hanging.  Come give me some when I’m without ya, I’m so insecure, you are the one thing, one thing I’m living for.”  Granted, it sounds a little codependent, but again, ignore. These kids are so fucking amazing! Yes, they are also turning my hair gray, but that’s their JOB. I love our times together.

I headed to the gym for my free training session.  Within 10 minutes I was a hunk of burning, sweaty, red-faced mess.  I am not one of those pretty work-put ladies…never have been as  I tend to be the “before” shot. After she was finished, I tried some of the exercises again and it was funny.  I’m on the machine, trying to balance the ball behind me against the machine while simultaneously picking up the hand thingies on my sides to do row squats (is that a thing?).  The ball would fall.  I get the ball back up, squat down again and lose the ball.  It took me 4-5 times before I managed to get my hands where I needed them while keeping the ball where it needed to be.  After I was finished the “work-out”, a  guy (no, no, no – don’t go thinking that) came over and I knew why.  I giggled and said it was my first day but I intended to get this down and become the gym’s poster child for successful workouts.  He was laughing and congratulated my attitude.  If ya can’t laugh at yourself, what fun is life?

Back to work where I successfully completed group and worked with a new client.  As always in non-profit work, there is sooo much paperwork.   Monday mornings are nice – few therapists – lots of quite to get work done as I slowly create my “system.”  I was also complimented by one of the most incredible therapists I have met – she told me I have a gift for this work, which is gratifying to hear after a lifetime spent in the wrong field.  The trick, for me, is to learn how this system works so I can effectively help clients.

Work was (mostly) done – there was studying to do at home, but for now there were a few things I needed to pick up so I could complete dinner meals.  As I headed to the store, a guy in a truck is riding me, so I pulled over to let him pass.  As I reach the stoplight, I see him there at the same red light.  I was so tempted to honk, smile and wave at him, but I remember L’s warnings about getting shot one day if I don’t watch my driving attitude.

I bumped into one of my favorite UM people, Kim, in the grocery store (I miss her!!), grabbed what I needed and headed home.  I had just finished the chicken (it was simmering), the brown rice (with carrots and peas) was cooking.  Mags texted to see if I wanted a Togo sandwich (Nope! I just cooked us dinner!) and soon my kiddos were home.  L didn’t seem to remember my bus-door issue, which is fine.  Lizzie isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  Earlier-still bedtime for me as Maggie is leaving for her field trip early tomorrow.

Picture:  Annie is not impressed with my study habits.

There are a few facts which cannot be denied. One of these is that my people looooonnnggg ago couldn’t handle the heat in Africa, so they moved north.  So why do I live in this heaty-place….

A meeting was planned for Cameron Park Lake at 11.  I thought it would be a terrific idea to drive Lizzie there so after our walk I could boil some water in my teakettle and we could have hot tea.  Please note the above paragraph.  It was so damn hot…if I had shorts I would have worn them, but alas.  It was a good talk – as if no time at all had passed (of course).  That’s how things go when you know the right people.

A wonderful agreement reached in this talk was that we will marry each other since the whole man thing isn’t exactly working out.  I share how Maggie had, long ago, in younger more innocent years suggested I become a lesbian to increase my chances. If only it were as simple as making a decision, but yes, I see her point.  So my friend and I decided when in Rome….  It was when I was enthusiastically opening the door to the bus to make pop up the top that I rolled the damn thing off its tracks.  L said he’d help me try to pop it on again, but…

Luna died.  The little feral cat that I sat with at night when we moved up here passed away under L’s truck a couple of days.  L was heartbroken and when he dropped Ethan off, there were tears.  That took me for a loop because the only other time I saw him cry was when his dad died.

Ethan made me lol today.  Maggie had texted me earlier, an OMG!  YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!  I thought a boy she liked has asked her out, but no, a friend had a spare ticket to a con (which is the hip word for “convention” I just learned as I looked it up) in SF.  We texted back and forth a bit, then I got busy backing the bus out of the garage.  When I went back to get my phone, I saw Ethan (we intercept each other’s texts) had responded as me letting know that she couldn’t go to the con and had to clean the house instead with Ethan.  It was hilarious seeing Ethan up to no good.

Picture: Me after I left the gym.  I swam a bit (the water is so amazing, but I am so out of shape), then steam bath and dry sauna;   Mabi jumping.  Yes, the iPhone has a really poor camera.