birthdays

Today I turn 46.  Older than I ever imagined.  But, possibly, only half way through my life.

I always celebrate my "last day" the day before my birthday.  My "last day" of 45 this year.  I won 2 chess matches, lost 0.  I won 2 pinball games, and lost 3.  I caught up with an old friend and celebrated our 10 year friendiversary.   

I sang, I planned a trip to do route 66 with an acquaintance I'd like to make a friend.  I loved on a 10 week old shibu inu puppy.  I taught 5 students, and coached 2 more.  I made it home safely.

I wrote in my journal.  I tried to read my tarot cards, but I felt off.  I brushed out dreadlocks from a good friend's depression hair.  I made a new cat friend, I saw two dog friend's and two cat friends outside my house.

I saw a rose gold full moon rise.

I apologized for interrupting and listened as well as I could.  

I left my husband to be depressed in bed and tried not to let it bother me.

I did my best.  Now I need to nap.

Goodbye 45.

Hello 46!

am I a narcissist?

Am I the narcissist?

Fuck.

Maybe I am. Maybe it's always been me.  

Maybe I'm the one who caused so many problems. Maybe I'm the one that's abusive and controlling. Maybe I'm the one that's been horrible.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

I can't do this right now.

I'm gonna pray.

10th anniversary of the day we met & also valentines day

I know it has to be my fault. I know it could be different, if only I knew what was required of me to get my desired outcome.

As you said tonight, "it's been 10 years, why haven't you acclimated to me yet?"

It's because I exist too. I'm here too. I have wants and needs and hopes and dreams, and have spent quite a few years working to please you and others. While none of them ever knew me at all.

I finally got it during one of the group sessions I took back in 2020, after my stint in the psych ward. We did a blind " what do you think of/compliment" each other exercise.  

No one knew anything about me after 6 weeks besides I owned a business and I tried to be a good mom. I knew then, that I am very closed off from anyone around me. I also realized, I don't know how to change that without being a complete psycho dick.

I scare people. One of my students recently took a workshop with my former teacher. This woman frightened me down to my very core.

My student reported, " I see why you're so scared of her, but you scare me more."

Wow. 

Just Wow.

Of course, everyone I encounter, then is subject to this ridiculous possibility. What a mind fuck.

I don't want to be scary, or serious, or intimidating. I never even imagined I would come across as those things. I know now that I do. This recent example is only one of many.  

I have to ask myself if it would be better some other way?

I don't know. I only know I didn't know it was this way. Now that I do, what should I do?

chronic illness

I haven't really ever felt well.  

I know, that sounds completely whiny and awful.

I hate this about myself.

I always pushed through, did what I could even if I was sick. These last couple of years, though, I'm falling behind.

After always trying to do my best, take care of everyone and everything, not take time for myself... this is really hard.

My mom was chronically ill. I hated it. I couldn't do anything to make her better. I still can't.  

Most of all, I feel sorry. And 

completely freaked out.  

I feel like there's no way to find the answer.

I'm so repulsed by myself and my health, I wish I didn't have to be here anymore.

I want to go home. Now.

I'm so sorry.

Going to the blood doctor Wednesday.

I hope they can help. 

was it 2018?

It may have been as far back as 2012, or even farther. Maybe clear back when I got here in 77. I'm not sure.

I know I had some weird experiences. I know 

I didn't have choices.

I'm fucking 45 years old now. I don't care what happened. I don't care who did what to who. I don't care how fucked up it was.  

It's time to forgive. All the way. All of it.

I want to live for me now. I've given way too much of my time to feel like shit over things I can't change, can't erase, can't undo.  

I forgive it all. I forgive them all. 

I forgive myself.

The past is gone, thank God.  

Why am i so scared? So many stupid questions. Do I even know who I am? Aren't I what those things made me? Was I something else before all that? How do I forgive? How can I possibly allow myself to live for myself? Shame. Guilt. Fear. Fuck it.

the answers soon come

Soon come. 

In Jamaica, this is a standard reply for any query involving how long. How long till we get there? Soon come. How long till my finger is ready? Soon come. How long till our taxi arrives? Soon come. 

Since my (so far) only trip on my 37th birthday to that magical, beautiful, dangerous and scandalous place, the song that wrote itself in my head revives itself from time to time. 

The answer soon come 

The answer soon come

Don't waste your time waiting

The answer soon come

This has been a really long, tough period of my life. When I look back, there were seldom any easy times; and I am grateful for all of then.

I believe that I am the temperance card in tarot. The most beautiful, forged by repeated firing, folding, and hammering. I hope I've finally reached an acceptable level of crafting. I once asked the universe to make me a useful tool. Not long ago, I begged and cried to be released from that duty. I was.

I feel that I still have work to do. I've raised my children, badly. I was not the mother they deserved. Somehow, they all still love me and are fiercely loyal to me and each other. I can't help but wish I had done more to raise them better. I know I did the best I could, they are so wonderful... I wish thermally the happiness, success, good health and fruitfulness the world can give them.

I am nearing the end of my single mothering days. I have wrecked mahlons vision. I didn't mean to, he definitely set me up for failure, but I did. I burned my own work. I need to be over it.

I tried to help my brother, my parents, my sister's children... no use. I tried to help my partners, Doug is the closest I've gotten to any kind of positive response.

I'm ready to be who I am. I'm terrified. I'm afraid I have cancer, at worst, or some other chronic illness, at best. That has actually helped me give a fuck about me.

If I'm gonna go out, I want to leave my mark. I want to do work. I want to swim in the waves and teach the world to sing, and love fiercely, and be here. I want to exist. I want to matter. It's taken me years to shine through Betsy's shadow. And man, what a mark she left on everyone she touched. I feel like people forget me. I want to leave something. I want to leave my teaching, leave my understanding of music for others.

I want to leave recordings for my family and whoever else. I want to leave paintings. I want to share thoughts and ideas. I want to be open learning and experiencing new things until I'm not here anymore and I get to go home.

These last couple of years, I had more than one instance that I really thought I was dying. No 

more squandering time.

Let me make my mark.

does it matter?

I can write forever, for some nameless, faceless audience. I can try like mad to understand you and hope you understand me. But, the truth us, I know you can't even find me. My little blog, out here in the interwebs.   

Part of me is happy to be so free and anonymous. Of course, I wish I could share with someone...

If you happen to read what I've managed to offer, please say hi. I need you. More than I can ssat.

Thanks.