spectacular

Got exceptionally high last night.

Wasn’t even expecting to. Didn’t think it was possible to go to a store and buy gummies that could do that. But a beautiful loophole has been discovered and now it is.

I ate one and cooked dinner and everything was fine, and then one hour later, BAM. I was grinning into space, making up little songs to make myself laugh. Dizzy like my body was tripping over itself.

I laid down and listened to a livestream about the new moon in Libra, all while my body felt like it was losing its edges and dissolving into energy. It felt wonderful and intense and like something I couldn’t stop.

Everything seemed to come up in this state. At one point I woke up in the darkness with loneliness and anxiety screaming at me. I’ve never known a lonelier city than the one I live in right now. It’s hard to remember that the lonelies I feel are not necessarily my own. That doesn’t make them feel any less heavy. I guess they are looking for someone to feel them.

When they pair up with anxiety, they make a dynamic duo. Anxiety over age and not being conventional, the classic “what the hell are you doing with your life” that only seems to be backed up by the lonely feelings.

Dissolve into energy and giggles and then wake up to the cold stare of your shadow. The new moon is activating my shadow side so I guess this makes sense. Shadow, meet softness.

lucky and lonely

Didn’t think he was going to catch me being sad but he did.

He said he had been sad too.

We hugged and I knew it wasn’t right but I was lonely and his touch was nice.

I thought about being alone in my apartment and it made me cry.

A lot of things did that today.

Surprising things.

Watching Edward Scissorhands and realizing he reminded me so much of you.

The silliness and the sad eyes and the quiet.

Realizing as the music swelled that I really miss you. So much. And crying some more because of that.

What would I even do if I saw you,

Cry?

It had made you so uncomfortable whenever I did that

But I probably would anyway.

And hug you tightly and thank you for everything.

Thank you for being an incredible loving person

Even if it all freaked you out.

You said the city broke you and I understand why. It’s hard and lonely and constant. But it didn’t break you. Not really.

We just need to superglue ourselves back together somehow.

do you crave light like I do

The stars said I need to write. I know they see me. The world is coming back to life and the draft is still unfinished. Do I start it all over or try to land the plane in a random field somewhere, just to say it’s done?

The shitty first draft. A play that can be worked and reworked and cast and rehearsed and turned into a story playing to a room of people who might or might not care.

When I started writing it, quarantine had just started and I was lonely. Am still lonely. Writing a play about a three-way in quarantine seemed fun. Create characters when there aren’t any around you. At first it was fun. The words came easily. Scenes and ideas and dialogue, funny and dark and sexy.

Things eventually started getting murky. Nothing felt like it had a point. Theater didn’t exist. Anger and fire were everywhere. The story felt frivolous and privileged. The words stopped coming.

Beat.

But we aren’t there anymore. Not in that exact moment anyway. Even if that moment is still felt. The sun is out and people have emerged. Theaters are opening and their stories are full of timely heaviness that we are all too accustomed to anyway. I crave light, maybe other people do too.

So there you have it.

full moon trance

I am back from paradise and last night I had sex.

It had been several months since we had seen each other. An entire summer. And yet his voice purring out “I missed you so much” was enough. Like velvet.

It took me 85 years to finish. Some moments felt like shooting out into space and leaving my body. Then I would slingshot back and worry that I had left that body too inert while skyrocketing through pleasure.

Every time he exhaled, his moan vibrated all over me.

The sweaty sheen that appears over you. Even if you don’t think you’re doing anything. But in reality my entire body was pulsing, thrashing with periodic electric shocks. Feeling everything so deeply for hours.

Toy after toy. He had one that vibrated and one that mimicked a sucking sensation. I think they made things a little too sensitive. Eventually my own hand was enough.

There’s a strange trance to sex. And he seemed intent on building it. With the music in his apartment, and the various rhythms of his mouth and fingers and body. I guess it was my role to melt into that trance and become the instrument he played and pulled pleasure out of. But sometimes I snapped back into the moment. Felt guilt. Selfishness. Anxiety. Until his mouth did something new and I melted back into the trance.

When it was over we stared into each other’s eyes and he ran a hand through my hair, softly, over and over.

“I want to pull out everything any shitty boyfriend ever did to you.” he made a motion like he was pulling it out of my hair. “Any moment that ever made you feel small. I want you to know that you are beautiful.”

His voice melted on the last word and I felt tears in my eyes. I just nodded and said thank you.

And then I learned he is monogamous. Who knows what will happen here. But the moment was beautiful.

tipsy mcgee

On a subway home. Not even that tipsy. You’d think I would be.

People in masks everywhere. Seeing people from my old job for the first time since this all started.

A friend who used to recommend plays she’d seen. A year and a half went by and now she has another play rec. I could’ve cried. And somehow none of it feels any different. But all of it is.

What are we supposed to do with all of this. Is it really just a matter of moving forward with things like they were before. I don’t think it is.

But it’s not about being afraid either. It’s figuring out the movement that makes sense for yourself. It’s learning to ground and get clear and hear yourself. Listen to that quiet voice in your head that knows exactly what it needs.

It’s learning how to alchemize the hard emotions. The anger and fear and loneliness. Thoughts that you know are insane even as they speed by and light up anxiety in your stomach.

Feel them all. Deeply and intimately. That’s what’s recommended. Stare at them even though it hurts. Even though it makes you feel like a gross monster. That feeling is proof enough that something is happening.

Then the skies clear and you see someone else going through pain like that. And you soften in your heart because you have a sense of how that may feel. Pain sees pain. And empathy can slowly emerge. And there’s the transformation.

It’s hard to see that when the heavy hits. It can feel like a train slowly rubbing over you. Or imprisoning you. Or suffocating you. But it is possible to move through them. And that can lead to rewards. One moment of connection can melt pain into empathy. And all of that can lead you into the sunlight.

she’s on a train

CW: mentions of eating disorders

On a train going all the way across Pennsylvania. It’s long but I like it so much more than flying. For 8 hours you can just look out the window, stare at trees and water, and space out while you listen to music or podcasts or a book.

Was just listening to a podcast interview with an eating disorder therapist. There were several moments that made me unexpectedly tear up, but she had a particularly fascinating point near the end.

She said anorexia is incredibly selfish, and she didn’t mean that word with any kind of judgment. It was literal. You are constantly thinking about yourself, about what you need to put in yourself or do to yourself to burn what you put into it. And your starved brain has no bandwidth to think beyond that. It’s desperately working on fueling and thinning itself. There’s no room left to see outside itself or pray or connect to the universe. It can’t meditate on anything when it’s starved like that.

It hit pretty deep.

As soon as I get back to the city I’m going to spend the rest of the weekend with a friend. He loves to cook elaborate meals and never lets me help. And obviously the meals are absolutely beautiful but I feel uncomfortable having someone do something like that all the time. He loves to “plan the menu” without telling me. It’s always delicious. But I don’t like the feeling of being spoiled like that. My brain spirals to try and do something to make up for him making dinner. It never comes up with anything good. Just paying for his dinner next time.

I know I’m literally complaining about someone making a beautiful lavish meal for me. I know that sounds selfish and insane. And I know that right after I listened to that eating disorder podcast, he texted that he was buying pasta and my stomach dropped. I was feeling gross and resentful about something that hadn’t even happened yet.

So I was listening to *another* podcast earlier today where I heard the phrase “wherever you are is your assignment right now.” Whether you like it or not. If you truly enrich yourself in it and ask how you can show up and serve, if you fully engage in it, you’ll graduate.

Weird feelings about pasta are an unexpected assignment but here we are. Hello how can I show up.

..huff

Full moons are for releases I guess.

This moment was just supposed to be sitting on a deck watching the lake at sunset. But as soon as I sat down, I asked my mother if she was going to call the therapist tomorrow to schedule a first appointment.

She said the same thing she’d been saying every night over the past week: yes. I told her I did not believe her. She did not like that.

Then it all fell out of me. I said she’d been talking negatively about my dad to me, a lot, and it was starting to weigh on me. I could feel it bringing me down and making me feel weird around my dad. I’ve been having my own struggles with him and his memory and his drinking and all these changes he’s dealing with. Having to hear hers too, while I really do want to, is just too much. So I said if she talked to a therapist, they would be a lot more helpful.

She did not like that.

She said I was making it sound like she was bashing him. How there are other people she can take this to, she doesn’t need to talk to me. How she won’t do that anymore.

Sadness suddenly. This was not the outcome I’d been expecting.

I’d poured my heart out about how I was feeling, and instead she made it sound like I was accusing her of something. Then she got really quiet and kept saying things like “okay I won’t do that anymore. I won’t tell you anything anymore. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be fine.”

None of it made me feel any better.

So now I’m sitting in the bathroom with my inner child and trying not to freak out. Trying not to listen to the self-critical thoughts that I just did irreparable damage to my mom and now she’s abandoning me. On top of everything else. I’m sorry, I can’t hold things in and I can’t take this anymore.

Why do blast-offs like this always happen on a full moon.

“it’s like you’re my therapist”

My aunt is not happy in her marriage. She came over yesterday and talked to my mom and me about it all. Sometimes I still feel like a child and don’t know if I’m equipped to hear and feel all this. And other times I hear things that I definitely know I shouldn’t. Like a 6-year drought in their sex life. From the people who give you really cute sweaters at Christmas.

At the moment my own parents are having issues too. Completely different from my aunt’s, even though my dad is her husband’s brother. My mom is finally calling a therapist about it tomorrow. In the meantime she told me everything tonight, unfiltered. It’s how it always is.

We are really close and I love being there for her. It’s also really hard hearing her talk about my dad like this. She told me it’s like I’m her friend or a therapist. I guess it is and I’m not sure that’s entirely good for me.

Tonight went as follows: Dad eats dinner with us, leaves the room to clean up or get something. When he’s out of earshot, Mom vents about things he does and says. Then he comes back, I do a quick signal, and we talk about how pretty it looks outside. Cycle repeats.

It’s be a lie to say it doesn’t weigh on me. But she’s going to start talking to a professional. So there we go. In the meantime I’ll just continue to feel all the things. Feel, don’t run. It’s all okay.

a little delirious

Finally got some rest tonight. Wine with my mom. Watching the sun set over the water without having to have a computer in my lap.

A day ago I could not stop crying, was feeling so overwhelmed, didn’t know how to stop the anxiety. How to create space away from this job.

Then the big presentation happened, the client loved it, shout-outs from bosses of bosses to the bosses of the whole company.

The most important thing is rest.

If I’m still working there next year, I’m gonna take a week off before I have to deal with all this shit. Get a little bit of time in the sun beforehand, have some time with a slower pace, time floating in that beautiful healing lake with my parents before all this nonsense starts up.

So that’s a lesson. That’s one thing we can do.

There’s still that scared child in me saying “what are you still doing here? They broke your heart and made you feel suffocated with anxiety, you can’t trust them. Get out before it happens again.”

But then my boss listened to me crying yesterday and didn’t tell me to suck it up. He found help for me. The HR woman didn’t tell me to just deal with it. She said the company has resources for mental/emotional health. And suddenly my boss’s boss, who I’ve talked to maybe 3 times in 2+ months of working here, wants to have weekly chats. Probably because I told HR.

I don’t know.

These are facts: The people I work with clearly care about me, and I have an inner child who wants to flee when she is scared. I panic and I cry and I don’t know that this is healthy. But at least I’m feeling.

No actually, there’s more to that. I’m feeling and acting on what I feel. And telling people when it feels like too much. I don’t know what else to do for now but it seems like that is important.

Rest is important too. Maybe if I take a bath in CBD it’ll fix all my stress forever.

lakeside processing

Know what’s surprisingly fun? Crying!

I did a lot of that last week. But now my emotional weather patterns are shifting to something lighter with more space.

I’m with my parents in their lake house. Water rushes outside the bedroom windows. It’s so incredibly calming.

When I arrived, my mom told me that my dad has been having anger flare-ups where he’ll yell at her and then forget anything happened. He had a head injury a few years ago. They’d never had problems like this before that happened. It’s a lot to process.

On top of that, work got insanely busy the other day. I’m remote, which is lovely and lets me spend a lot of time at the lake, but working a 12-hour day while the sun slowly sets over a shimmering body of water can break your heart. You’d rather be out swimming in the shimmer, or having a drink next to it with people you love. Not watching it through a window while you’re chained to a piece of technology.

But anyway. I’m feeling better.

My dad finally admitted to my mom that he’s depressed. They are both looking into getting their own therapists. I never thought they’d ever even consider doing that. It makes me really happy to hear.

It’s a new moon and an 8/8 Lions Gate today. The potential for a powerful and positive fresh start.

Also my parents met 42 years ago today. That’s all pretty magical.