On being personal - or how, if you wait, stuff happens like it's supposed to

There are some important people in my life that do not read my blog.  When I asked them why, they told me (and they all told me separately and not related to any conversation with each other) it's "too raw" and "too exposed; my husband told me it was "too personal." These are people that I'm actually really raw and exposed to every single day.  And what I write here is less than I expose to them. . . So, I've kind of had a crisis in what I'm doing writing here. Plus something like "fate" happened again - I called it kismet before, but fate works too (I want to tell you about that too - next, next).

I wondered if I should even write again here.

And then, one day, recently, several things happened - it's a sequence, so bear with me. . .

1. I was putting together some links I had promised someone and needed my blog link. I was sending the link to someone I've really only met once, but instantly liked; a kindred, if you will. I copied the link and pasted it into my email.  The blog was up when I went back to the internet for something and I started reading it. 
2. I felt like I was reading someone else's blog.  I didn't really know that person . . . and I liked her writing and I felt for her story. . . and truly, I did not at first realize it was mean (it took me 3 sentences).
3. I immediately prefaced the link by saying, "this makes people uncomfortable" so basically, read at your own risk. And hit send.
4. I was glad I liked my writing. And I remembered everything I put in that last blog. . .and I could not believe I had done that. COULD NOT BELIEVE it. . . because, dude, that is some really heavy stuff. I began freaking out . . . (I know, this is a little late given that post is from a month ago).
5. I had lunch with a dear friend where I was explaining this because I was FREAKING out. What the heck had I done.  Was it the right thing? She wisely did not answer my questions (she will laugh here for me saying she is wise - but I know she is - so believe me).
6. I got back from lunch and received an email from the kindred I had sent the links to. I will not say what the email contained, but . . . I had done the right thing.  I had - and the emails, and the comments, and the hugs - they showed me what I didn't see - not until I was ready.
7. I realized that I had actually done what I set out to do with that blog posting - put it out there and and not in here, not in me. Release it - forget it - take it's power away.
8. I stopped wondering if I should write here.

So - I will write here. I will share still.

BUT - I do feel like I owe a bit of an explanation about why I haven't posted in more than 30 days (I usually do better than that).  Short explanation - I figured it out.

What is it? - it's what I'm supposed to be writing.  About three weeks ago, I finally realized that I wasn't writing random things; I had a character that I loved (and characters around her I love); I had chapters of her life that I had written.  Maybe they didn't make sense or have an order yet, but I knew she was who I was supposed to write about . . . or . . . for . . . or . . . as. . . Her name just appeared to me. And there she was.

So, I've been writing her story instead of writing mine.  I think it just means I need to spend more time writing because I know I could write her story and mine and both will be what they need to be.

Anyway - know I have found a character and I am hopeful, at some point in the near future, she will become real to not just me.  I am hopeful she will become real to you.  But in the mean time, I'll keep my story going.  I am grateful that you read. I am happy I help make sense out of your own lives and I am finally understanding that by putting it out to you, regardless of your response (or my delayed terror), is helping me make sense of my life.

it's like i'm a baby. . . 

the power failure has over me and how you make me brave

I dreamed about Kim last night

A 4-year-old hugged me around the legs this morning

They are brave

They inspire me to be brave

Are there things you should not share?  Probably, and there are things I will not share with you. . . and some of you will be shocked I shared some of this.  Others of you will be glad I shared these things.  Some might be angry I shared them.  It’s hard to know the right amount. . .and the right level. . .

I am a machine – I am efficient and get shit done, or at least, I like to think so (and honestly other people think this of me too, it’s just hard to admit).  This week someone got to remind me I’m not a machine.  On Friday, I received an email from someone who works in my group about how he was happy to know I’m human and how after 23 days of not responding to an email, he smiled because it meant I wasn’t a machine . . . and because he was right . . . which makes me wrong . . . a state in which I prefer to not be.

This makes me feel like a failure.  Failure = Disappointment.  Disappointment is one of my buttons.  You push that button and I become inconsolably depressed (Oreos and Doritos were involved last night, which means I must be improving because normally it would have included alcohol). This email was not the only thing that made me feel like a failure, just a good way to show you an example.

So this morning, I started writing a list of all the things for which I was a failure (and I only had to go back a month). I had written 556 words and 41 items when I decided I needed to go to breakfast (because, oddly, I was feeling better).  Two very important things happened then.

1. I met my neighbor, Dan and his 4-year-old daughter, Isabella, in the hallway.  She is ADORABLE.  Dan said, “say hi to kp.”  Isabella proceeded to run down the hallway to me and yell, “hi kp, hi kp, hi kp.” Over and over and over.  Dan and I chatted a few minutes about an incident regarding our building and graffiti while Isabella spent the entire time saying “kp, kp, kp, kp, kp, kp”.  She was standing very close to my legs and looking up at me when I finally got to say, “what Isabella?” She couldn’t remember what she wanted to tell me, but then found something to tell me about.  She talked for about 5 minutes and Dan then told her to say goodbye so I could “get on with my life.”  Then it happened. . . the medicine I needed.  She put her arms around my knees and turned her cheek to my legs and ever so lightly hugged me.  It made my heart swell so much.
2. I left the building and went to Linda’s for breakfast. I hoped against hope that I would be able to have breakfast in peace because I thought that’s what I needed.  But instead Dan (a different Dan) and his friend (I cannot believe I forgot his name) asked me how I was.  I answered honestly, “getting better”. . . but something happened then.  The three of us started to talk and I really enjoyed it.  I wanted to know about them and I felt interested.  They were great, nothing crazy to make me remember WHY they made me feel better, but they did.  I want to thank them for cheering me up.  Helping push Isabella’s hug even further.

I came back home and started writing more on my list of things for which I hate myself.  I called my mom, no one answered.  I could read in to this  (and likely would have before this morning) but they could honestly be out.  So, I left a voicemail (which I hate doing) and said, “Hi, it’s Kristin, I love you, I’m sorry and I hope we can talk soon.” Calling her is on my list.

I think I might be able to get up in the morning with less difficulty because of this list.  Everyone in my life loves me so much and wants me to be happier and many of them would do anything they could. . . and some of them have.

I must tell you there are two people who made this list happen and would never know. . . my writing teacher and one of my fellow students.  This student has an inner critic (and this student is a most fantastic writer) and so our teacher told the student to write down the list of “blurts” (this is what The Artist’s Way calls them).  I don’t know if it liberated the student but it prompted me to start this list today.  It’s helping me to let go. . . they are on a page, and no longer inside eating me up (and that’s what it’s been doing for the last 28 days).

Because there are things on this list that cross a line I cannot cross yet (for those people I need to protect and for confidentiality), I’ve taken out names and some actual things on the list. . .

The list is 86 items long.  It will get longer.  It will get shorter.  But it’s just a list.  And I am the one who has control over how long or short it is.

Why I hate myself and am a failure:

1.  not bringing back the amp on time (there was no time but I was not diligent)
2. not calling my mother back when I said would and then not remembering for a week and then not calling until a month later
3. not responding to a text from my xxxxxx
4.  not responding to a call from Xxxxx
5. not responding to facebook posts from Xxxxx
6.  not cleaning any part of my house
7. getting hummus on the autograph I sent to Xxxxxxx
8. getting fat or gaining 10-15 pounds back from a year ago
9. eating the box of Oreos
10. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
11. not asking Xxx how she is
12.  not asking Xxxxx how she is
13.  not walking this entire month (not at all)
14. not going to the gym
15. taking the bus instead of walking to work
16. not reading Xxx’s XXX paper when he asked
17. not reading and responding to Xxxxx’s email re: his process
18. not getting Xxxxx a birthday present on time
19. not getting Xxxxx a birthday present at all
20. not knowing when I need to be better for my friends
21. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
22. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
23. for being afraid of talking to Xxxxxxx and Xxxx
24. sweating too much
25. my feet smelling bad
26. not cleaning my house
27. not weighing myself because I know it will be at 180lbs
28. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
29. not calling Xxxx on time
30. not doing what I say I’m going to do
31. my double chin
32. the pictures that make me look fat
33. taking any pills to make me feel better
34. not giving back Xxx’s tripod and taking almost three months to do it and really, he came over and did it instead of me being better
35. being paralyzed with fear and not writing
36. not writing anything ever
37. over thinking shit
38. grinding my teeth
39. eating out too much
40. spending stupid money
41. getting mad at Mikal for the most ridiculous things like putting his brace in a place I can crush it or when he asks me if I set my alarm.
42. not thanking Xxxxxx properly for helping me with scrapbooking
43. not giving Xxxxx a thank you note about the plant
44. not getting potting soil for the plant Xxxxx gave me
45. not making any more bags when I said I would for not only my xxxxx, but for Xxxxx
46. not talking to Xxxxx and Xxxxx more because I should and because I want to
47. being vain
48. not responding to Xxxxxxx when she sent me a most beautiful email
49. not talking to my xxxxxx after he wrote me a beautiful letter and then IM’s me when we were on Facebook at the same time
50. not completing my LinkedIn profile appropriately
51. not drinking enough water
52. not having enough self control
53. saying bad things to myself about my writing, about my body, about the way that I am
54. being too busy for everyone
55. not visiting Kim while she was sick because I was weak
56. lying to myself
57. being afraid to write what I felt like after Tuesday night’s Amanda Palmer party – I felt really terrible
58. being afraid to write about anything related to my life because it will hurt people
59. knowing that what I want to write will hurt people and still thinking it should be written and told and knowing I will be a coward and not write it because I cannot handle how to have the hard conversations with the people that I will hurt.
60. banishing my cat from the bedroom because she is too needy and knowing that all she really wants is to love me.
61. being judgmental about people that have the same insecurities as me and annoy me not because of their insecurities, but because I hate how they treat me or other people – just being judgmental
62. taking Amanda palmer’s marshmallows
63. sitting in bed instead of doing . . . . anything
64. wanting to die
65. not cleaning up my artists corner
66. asking my husband to clean up the cat puke because he’s up and I’m in bed. . . and I’m the one that saw her do it
67.  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
68. knowing I hurt my husband because I was upset on 4/1 (my first husband’s anniversary) and not talking to him about it (but to be fair to myself on this one he had a big day that day and I didn’t want him to lose focus on himself).
69. being upset at my mother because on 4/1 she sent me an email that reminded me of my wedding anniversary because she mentioned a green feather boa and subsequently not calling because I couldn’t handle the email
70. having to leave work on 4/1 because I’m upset my first husband died and 4/1 would have been our 12 year anniversary
71. forgetting my co-worker’s kids names and ages
72. not knowing everyone’s name in my group at work
73. not setting up conferences with my teacher because I don’t think she thinks I’m any good (and let’s be clear she has NEVER EVER said anything like this at all)
74. missing an appointment with my therapist (because it was 4/1 and I was at home crying) and knowing that going to see her might have helped me being so fucking depressed that day
75. thinking my therapist hates me because I missed an appointment
76. not flossing every day and sometimes not for weeks, but really wanting to
77. saying I’m sorry all of the time
78. smoking
79. not remembering everything that should be on this list and possibly hurting people because I forgot them. . .
80. being totally self absorbed about the fact that anyone would care about any of this and be upset that I didn’t put them on the list
81. not crying more freely when I cry at the television or a movie because I’m afraid those that I’m with will laugh at me
82. knowing I’m not brave enough to post this entire list
83. not helping Chris with his UDFB fundraising more
84. not finding any UDFB donors yet and not having a plan
85. not acknowledging that being gang raped by three men has really affected me. . . and it a big reason I hate myself . . . and feel like I’m a piece of trash
86. being angry at myself I didn’t acknowledge #85 for 18 years

I was telling someone today that I felt like I was going to post a really vulnerable post today and I was unsure if I should or not.  That person expressed surprised that I couldn’t get any more naked because my previous posts were so revealing.  It confirmed I could put it out there.  Putting it out there helps me let it go.  Once it’s out there, I cannot take it back and therefore I cannot hide from it any longer and I can be better and more brave.  Some day I wish to be free of all my fears.  You are part of reaching that destination.  Thank you for reading.

kismet poetry

so, I used to right poetry. . . often.  But then I stopped for hundreds of single reasons. Mostly each single reason was a different way to let the critic inside tell me I suck.

Then things happen in strange strange ways - kismet if you will  - and poetry seems to make sense today.  So, I wrote some and I want to share it with you.  But I want to tell you the journey that brought me to it because it's shit like what I'm about to tell you that makes me believe in things like kismet and kismet gives me permission to like what I wrote.

The first bit starts several weeks ago, I read a Twitter about something that referenced a blog called scribomaniac.  I liked her writing.  It reminded me a bit of my own blog in its breadth of topic and sometimes funny and sometimes sad musings.  So, I put it on my "blogs to read" RSS feed and look at it weekly.  She, like me, doesn't post consistently, which is totally fine, and also makes me feel better about my own neglect (I do not claim her to be neglectful, just that her frequency gives me permission to be what I call neglectful).

One day, I read a post and laughed out loud.  She wrote about all the stuff  regarding poetry that I lived and felt.  Read it here.  If you ever wrote poetry, and you are a girl, I think you'll relate.  I did.

This didn't kick me in the pants.  But the next bits built up to my kick in the pants.

April is poetry month.  Every morning, I wake up to a friend on Facebook putting another piece of poetry out there.  I happily devour it and move on with the day.

it inspires me

4/15/2013 in Boston occurred.  And I cried. I never understand why these types of things happen.  It depressed me so much I spent the evening in my bedroom staring into nothing, wanting to go to sleep (it is what I do when I get depressed).  I questioned why these things happen, I questioned what the hell a bombing would accomplish for whomever did it.  I was just in despair.  Three hours after I slid into my blankets and covered my head, I peeked out and grabbed my pink Nikki McClure notebook and wrote . . .

On 4/16/2013, I woke up and felt like the whole world was so loud; I was just so sensitive to everything.  I wrote it on Facebook.  I spent the entire day talking with people and interacting and being ON all day.  I was exhausted.  I was so emotional, the world was so very loud for me that day.

I was very excited to be going on vacation on Friday, April 19th to Port Townsend with my husband.  It was basically for me to get away.  I needed to get away for a bit.  We went to a bed and breakfast called The Old Consulate Inn.  Friday night Mikal and I went to a "cabaret" called Kreepshow. . . the

"goodness" of this show is up for debate in my house.  I say it was cute, Mikal . . . not so much.  But what it DID have was poetry.  And lots of it.  Some of it was good, some of it was contrived, but it was yet another piece to my kismet puzzle slowing coming into focus.

The next morning, we went to breakfast (they have those at the bed and breakfast places) and met several people.  Two of them were writers.  One is a woman who used to be a journalist who left her husband home for the weekend and is looking to write on this weekend.  She was adorable (and I got her email so we can correspond).  The other of them is a poet who does creativity workshops.  She loves to help unlock the creativity in those that have been stifled for so long.

I spent that afternoon and evening writing and reading.  It was wonderful.

The next morning, we were all there again and the poet was asking if anyone had seen the Poetry Post. I had not, but many had.  She showed me a picture and it started a flurry of conversations around all the places in Port Townsend people had visited over the previous day that had to do with writing (I kind of missed the boat on this town, but if I have my own "writing weekend" I'll know what do do next time).

On the way home, I was catching up on Twitter (yes, can you believe it, I barely used my phone all weekend!) and I ran into a posting by Amanda Palmer (it is no surprise she figures into this too).  She had written a poem about the Boston bombing as well (well, for one of the bombers).  You can read it here. . . apparently it is pretty controversial.  People are angry that she wrote it (the comments are pretty crazy).  Some can't even see past what they think it is to digest what it may be.

When I got home, I went back to my notebook and typed out the poem I had written the previous monday.  And then I remembered "the world is so loud." And I decided to write that too. . . I said it because I felt so sad and so empty and so overwhelmed by all of it.  Anyway, here are my two poems.  They helped me cope.  It's what poetry is supposed to do (despite what some people say on Amanda's blog).

Paralysis

nothing is safe

nor was it ever

naivety equated it

time begets terror and fear

and reason to hate where

chaos blasts connectedness

together

I sit still out of helplessness and

fear

I sit still in paralysis

my feet don’t move while my heart travels miles

that paralysis is just fear of losing

everything

is not lost

I feel

The world is so loud

I hear the colors and shapes and

and see aromas of anger run before my eyes.

heat and light burn the inside of my nose as they flash on and off, and off and on

time heals and peals

creating raw callouses of space with no depth

in the sea against my screaming skin.

I tilt back my head, hold out my tongue and melt

emptiness to fill up my chest until the hole opens up wide enough

for the embrace of humanity.

The point I'm trying to make here is that all of these pieces fell into place to give me permission to 1) write it down 2) share it 3) not care if someone likes it. . . because I  like it.

Metrics of my life . . . or an update on my resolutions

I haven't written a posting in more than a month. . .I have written. . . but not very much and some of it is kind of debatable (see haiku here).  I did listen to three books, and finished reading one but let's be honest, that doesn't count. I'm actually pretty sure this post is going to suck because I have been having such a hard time writing.  I even figured out how I'm doing on my new year's resolution (which, again, if we're going to be honest, it really just my way of NOT writing and just doing data analysis. . . one of my weird but extremely satisfying and enjoyable "hobbies"). . .

But this isn't just about my writing.  It's about how I'm doing on my new year's resolutions. . . and ultimately me - making me feel better - making myself feel less shitty every day.  It's an update. . . and I figure if I tell it out loud (and as I'll explain later, if I actually RECORD and look at the data) I'll actually get better.  Because who wants to look like a failure . . . well if you do, then we are probably not friends.  Failing is one thing (you learn from it) WANTING to look like a failure - that just makes you stupid (and I hate stupid people). .. man this post is getting hostile.  Ok. ..

Here's the data on my resolutions (and unfortunately for you today (did I mention I've been UBER crabby this week) - my thoughts on that):

1) Stay more connected to my mom, sister, niece and nephews, my in-laws - my family

So, I'm doing better on this.  It has been a "little" hard to quantify because I haven't exactly recorded it in a spreadsheet. . . however, I do know that I have spoken to my family at least two or three times a month which - let me tell you - is WAY more than I ever used to do.  So, the lesson here, is that I need to record it - and yes, I have it now in my spreadsheet (aren't you excited about my recording of stuff?)

2) Write every day

Um, yeah, not doing so well. . . Here is the graph - looks like I was the best in January. . . which of course makes sense.  But now, I have to get better.

3) Post to my blog at least twice weekly

You know best about this. . . but here are the numbers

There have been 15 weeks - that means there should be 30 posts. . . yeah, I have ACTUALLY posted 9 times. . .

BUUUUUTTT - I have actually STARTED 20 total posts. . . this does not help you, or frankly me. . . so - I must do better.

4) Give myself a budget and stay on the budget

There will be no numbers here. . . that's a little too naked for me (and mostly for those people that will steal that information.  BUT, I'm not doing AWFUL.  I have money in my savings account and I am putting money away for travel, bills and charity.  I go OVER my budget every month, I think. . . (I haven't quite figured all the stuff I need to figure out about the budgeting tool I'm using - it's not Excel, so my learning curve is higher than I'd like) BUT I do see that I have spent less this month than the previous month and less the previous month than the month before that. . . so I'm headed in the right direction.

5) Lose 10lbs

so - this is vulnerable, and I'll share with you. . .note that top dotted line and the bottom dotted line is 10lbs. . . so I made it close to losing 5lbs.

so the deal with this one is that you can see I really recorded my weight every day starting in February and did pretty good into March. . . then I stopped.  And the interesting thing here is that I stopped pretty much doing ANYTHING around the same time. . . no writing. . . no calling. . . no posting and likely more spending occurred. 

I'm using this app called my mood tracker - check it out here .  But the problem is that when that whole "dip" happened somewhere in March, I stopped tracking that too.  But it's a cool app that has me record several things. .. my mood, my pain (if I have it), my pill intake (like aspirin or muscle relaxers or pain medication for my neck), my alcohol intake, my sleep, and my exercise.  It's super interesting because you can totally see where I was doing really well and when I'm not. . . AND it totally correlates to whether or not I'm doing well on my other goals.

Why do you care about this?  Well, likely you don't, but I've learned some really interesting things about 1) myself 2) why I feel this way and 3) why I should keep doing this recording crap.

Early in the year a wonderful and supportive friend brought me to a lunch "seminar" with her doctor and the talk was about being healthier.  There were two very important things that I took from that (and is why I did so well during a 30 day period so thank you my lovely!). I learned about the alkaline diet (and it's not really a "diet" - it's actually food that is more alkaline than other food and there are reasons this food is better to eat than others. . . it's actually scientifically based and I'm in).

But most importantly, I learned this quote

"Record takers are record breakers"

 - the doctor told us that he had learned it from a teacher back in his high school days and it has stuck with him (and it has now stuck with me).  I looked it up online and found only one other reference to this quote - oddly it's from a chiropractor and he's in Australia. . . the doctor that told me about it is also a chiropractor.  

But oddities aside, this quote completely caught me and I started recording things.  It's also why I'm sharing it with you. Being aware of it makes you want to get better.  Especially in my case because I'm a ridiculous data/metrics geek. And seeing that bar move or the pie chart change. . . is very satisfying.

So - important things I've learned from this post - and know I learned it right along with you reading. . .

1. keep recording things you fool
2. just write - it actually improves your mood and will get you back in the swing
3. my failure here is just a small failure, I have three quarters to help myself get better. . . and let's be honest 75% is way better than 33% and way better than 0% which is where I was last year.
4. I need to write a posting on my writing process.  It's starting to make me feel crazy, so I figure if I write about it, maybe that will help.
5. I need to tell you the duck story because this whole post - was me talking to my duck. . . this will make sense to like 4 people in my life.

Anyway - my kitty is here with me hanging out while I write and watch In Cold Blood from Investigative Discovery. . . I probably should tell you about that weird obsession too. . . and the angry birds problem I'm having which is likely getting in the way of all of the above mentioned shit. 

much love and thanks for hanging with me!