Empty/Drained

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I want to choose the word carefully, because there is a big difference between them.

I just realized today is the 18th. That means it is my 3rd trip around the sun, since I went crazy. Anyway…

I don’t necessarily feel empty, but I do feel drained. This situation has been going on since I moved in with my sister and the way it played out wasn’t pleasant. I just need it to be over, need to have a little distance, and need to get a good breather in so she and I can talk again.

I can’t say that the guy who hacked her, wouldn’t have done it, even if she didn’t draw things out, or even if she had been more honest with him. We will never know this, but I do know, it wasn’t long after I moved in, that I started getting weird vibes from him.

I don’t know her new guy, the fiance. He lives East of the mountains here. I understand when the bitter ex went whack-o on her, that it scared her. I wish she wouldn’t have so easily run off, leaving me know nothing really for so many months. I’m sad about stuff, and believe she and I will work it out, but I am just drained and really trying to come to terms with being here at Mr. Yummy’s house. I’m breathing though.

I have so many things to do still before Sunday, yet I awoke with an icepick jamming into my left eye. I took my very last migraine pill which I have been hoarding forever and stayed at Mr. Yummy’s. I saved this pill specifically to use on my last migraine ever. Guess this was it. I don’t have body aches, so I am pretty sure it is not the flu, but I have been feeling run down lately. I just keep hoping once I make the move final and have everything out, I can take the days that I will not be working due to the holidays and rest. I will worry about what to unpack and where to cram things later.

Maybe I will even stop worrying that one day Mr. Yummy will look at me and ask, “Jeebus, what have I done?”

In a way I am scared shitless because I got exactly what I asked for. I DID ask the Universe to bring him back to my life. I love him in a way I have never loved anyone and I feel this need to protect him, from me. Does that make sense?

Example.

Here I have moved in, but I don’t know what we are doing. I asked him if I had a time line I had to be out by, he didn’t answer. I don’t want to unpack every single box I have, set up like a happy little couple and pretend we are going for it if I have to pack up and leave here, and him. I don’t want to offend him and take his offer of help, as something he might not be looking for. Do you see how the neurotic takes over and starts to “what if” me?

I know my favorite time of the day is bed time, when I get to spoon up next to him and breathe him in as I fall asleep. My least favorite time of day is 4AM, when I get up and have to crawl out of his bed and start my day, and yet I love my job, where I go, what I do.

In time, I will have to meet the fiance, but I won’t be talking about the things that have rocked my world the last seven months. These things are my sister’s choice and well…I don’t need my words on a blog being used against me again by anyone in my family…so I just hope that time and distance from all the drama will help this feeling go away.

I am grateful I reacted to my life’s traumas three years ago, by going crazy. I am hopeful that everything I went through so intensely during that spiritual awakening, is helping me make the right choices as I navigate, instead of impulsively reacting to things. I know I have handled everything this last year in a way I have never been able to do, and mostly, it was without great effort. I DO NOT want to go back to that person again. I will not step back into being that person who allowed fear to control my life.

So, here I go. Lets see how long it takes me to do this other I want to do.

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Five Months (part two)

Two posts ago, I told you to come back and I would tell you what I lost when I figured out who I am.

Ironic that I am now going to tell you, after writing about the break in.

On December 18, 2011 I found out who I am.

I am love.

Simple, right?

What did I lose?

Fear.

It’s a really beautiful, almost scary thing to be flooded like I was with love, for everything and everyone I saw…including myself.

 

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I Guess It’s Time

Hi again. So much has happened.

I’m still in the middle of moving. Should be done before Christmas. I plan on sleeping Christmas day away and hanging out on the interwebz doing not much of anything.

The last two weeks, I started getting sick again. Started as a UTI and quickly began morphing into PID (pelvic inflammatory disease). Tried to get into a doc. My boss gave me her natural doc’s name and even knew insurance covers natural medicine since my Queen Bee uses it. I was happy. They DID advise I call my insurance and confirm they cover natural medicine.

I called and we found out at that moment, I had no insurance coverage period, because the broker, didn’t get all his paperwork processed on time and company wide, no one was technically covered. I was free to pay 100% and wait for reimbursement. So I cancelled and didn’t go. I did however start doing massive doses of Propolis. Propolis is basically bee glue. It’s a heavy, sticky pollen product. It’s found around the entrance of the hive. As a bee enters, it rubs along the bee and is rich in anti fungal, bacterial and I think, viral properties. It is key to the health of the hive.

Holy fuck! I will be taking Propolis now. I’m not 100% yet, but I did in three days with water and propolis, what the doctors took almost 6 weeks to do last September, back when Mr. Yummy came and babied me.

As this was going on, I was also house/kitty sitting for a g/f. I was there for a week. The last night I was there was Friday of last week, I told my friend I was running boxes to Mr. Yummy’s and if it was really late I might spend the night unless she wanted me to dive back. She was fine with that. Just told me to feed the kitty and change her box before I left. Big Mistake on both of our parts.

I stopped and checked on the kitty and left at      around five and took the boxes I packed into my car after work, to Mr. Yummy’s house. I stayed the night with him. I wasn’t feeling well, so we snuggled. I remember waking up early Saturday morning and smiling because we started on his side of the bed with me cuddled (draped) all over him and by morning, we were on my side of the bed, with him all over me. It was so…us. History. Been there before so knew how it played out, and it just made me smile and feel good. Well…

That didn’t last long because I unlocked my friend’s door, walked in and saw that Kitty had knocked some stuff off some shelves. Started calling for the kitty and realized halfway into the house that one side of the french door in the back of the house was busted out. Actually it was busted IN. I was already walking into glass before I hit the back room. It took me a second, but it hit me what had happened. As I turned around and RAN outside, my peripheral saw the drawers in the bedroom, all open and spilling over. I called 9-1-1 to report the break in and couldn’t even tell them the street I was on. I had to assault a jogger practically, to get him to stop and calmly tell me what street I was. Although I am SURE I probably freaked him out, I guarantee, he was definitely calmer than me.

In that moment, I became afraid in a way I haven’t been afraid, since I went crazy. It didn’t just creep back in, it slammed back in. Running out I was wondering where kitty was, realizing I had to call my friend and tell her, and terrified there was a possibility I walked in on it and they were still there.

HYSTERICAL.

So four days have passed. Saturday I cleaned it all up, went back to Mr. Yummy’s, then Sunday went and met my friend who got in at dark thirty. Kitty didn’t run, she hid and was in one of her spots, freaked out when the police walked through. I had kitty go to a different friends, so my friend would go there, instead of her home at 2AM, to deal with what I left her. A boarded up french door, courtesy of the spoon wielding tax preparer’s hunny. Sunday was horrible and emotional. I felt bad, yet was glad I wasn’t there since Wednesday and Thursday I felt I was being watched. Monday I went back to work and just kept seeing the moments that fear slammed back in. I was teary and cried a few times. Today I wasn’t emotional, but am still shaken.

I wish I could run away to the coast and enjoy the winter storm. No such luck. I’m just happy to know that I will start the year out at Mr. Yummy’s and he is no fucking drama Queen. I will not have to deal with a Ginger, or  anyone else’s drama.

I want to let go of the fear again. Even if I have to chant my old mantra, “I deserve nothing less, as do you, than love” I will let the fear go.

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Five Months

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SO MUCH has happened the last five months. I still probably can’t talk about all of it since my sister is still waiting to see if there will ever be charges filed.

Needless to say, she broke up with one boyfriend, and all hell broke loose. Then she started dating a new guy, and another kind of hell broke loose. Meantime, I have been here, working, going to see Mr. Yummy, cursing my sister, waiting for the power to go out, wishing I had internet (I pay for it), and being threatened with eviction from the landlord, even though (MY) rent is paid. (In fairness, hers is too now.) It’s been lots of drama and trauma, and for once, I had nothing to do with it, other than it permeated every aspect of my life.

Once the landlord threatened to evict, I really panicked, because since July, my sister really hasn’t been here. She has been out of town for the better part of the time, coming home for a week or so and then leaving for 4-6 weeks.

I turned 50. I had a dinner on Halloween with my tribe to celebrate and I actually got a little toasted. Toasted enough I dropped my credit card on the patio where we had the dinner (my dear friend, the spoon wielding tax preparer let me use her house) and Mr. Yummy found it and picked it up. He came home with me that night, but for some reason…forgot to give it to me before he left the next day. I was a hurting unit for a few weeks, but didn’t want to “bother him” so I just roughed it out in silence. The day he came to meet me and give it back, was the day after the landlord informed me how bad things were and I was told if it wasn’t made right in so many days, I would have to leave. Mr. Yummy took me to lunch and I told him what was going on and just like that, he offered up his spare room for my things and his room, for me.

I was stunned, yet not surprised because, he has always been kind to me. I was sick to my stomach, because I have spent since 2001 trying to figure out how to get back to him and what we had, and were supposed be. But not like this. I want to be with him in every way, no doubt about that, but I had hoped it would be him saying, “I love you and want to be with you”. I’ve been willing to wait for it. I hurt him so badly when I went to Alaska and he thought I was leaving him.

So here I sit, blogging instead of packing. I started packing a week ago. I stayed at Mr. Yummy’s a few nights last week so my sister could come home and we didn’t kill one another. The first night as I was drifting off to a blissfully satiated sleep, I mumbled I would ask him the thousands of questions running through my head tomorrow, to which he replied that he knew. The next night, I asked how much space I had, is there storage close, how long do I have and what will you expect me to pay to stay with you? He pretty much said, “Hmmm,  I don’t know.” to it all, and I just left it at that. I got back to his house the third night, and he took me out to his motorcycle hut (his sacred man cave) and 1/2 – 3/4 of the shelves were empty! The night before they were ALL full of parts. I was gobsmacked, to say the least. I was also grateful, touched and for some reason, just felt really, really humble.

Part of me is really excited, and part of me is really scared, and even though he hasn’t said he loves me, or that we were eventually headed here, or even that he might just want me to stay there…I know him well enough to know that he isn’t doing anything he doesn’t want to do, and nothing with me is done without thought. Just like nothing I do with him is insignificant. He is what he is and he knows it.

I only know, that the last ten months, I have been so happy. Life has been hard, trying, my sister and I almost lost what we have worked so hard to repair, my car was broken into (bypassing my locks, and alarm, then re-locking it) and I am moving again way, way before I planned on it. ALL SHITTY THINGS according to the plans I HAD, but…I am happy and though Mr. Yummy is definitely part of it, he is not the reason why. I kept my wits. I stayed calm and kept my head.

You know what?

I did it because on 18, December, 2011 I went crazy.

My life fell apart, I’ve blogged all about it. I’ve been putting my life back together and for the most part, it is quite manageable these days. I like love my job, love the person I have become, the changes I have made, the choices I have made and the people I allow in my space.

The world is still crazy, another young black life was taken, people are angry, I am angry and I want change, but the world doesn’t have permission to take me down, and I plan on making the world a better place than it is.

I leave you with this…

Who are you?

Really.

Not what are you, not what is your ethnicity. I heard a smart guy ask, Who are you and I don’t mean race, because we were taught race by the system.

Who are you?

I know who I am, and I know what I lost by admitting who I am.

If you want to know who I am, and what I lost, come back next week when I have more time, and I’ll tell you. Right now, I have to go get ingredients for stuffing, after all tomorrow is that genocide day and I have plenty to be thankful for.

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I Knew

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I knew I still loved the man from yesteryear,  I knew I would fall in love with the man of today. I did not know,  it would be this intense. He is the one.  I’ll take this body’s last breath, and my love for him will not be lost. It has and will live forever.

He makes my eyes water, my heart weep, and my body becomes something I didn’t know I was capable of being with another person.

I have only been “blessed” twice in this life.  He is one of the two.

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My Half Century Mark

50, and life is good.

Thank you Universe,  and thank you to me,  for finally getting out of my own way.

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Mobile Me

Months ago, I said I hoped to be able to tell you what was going on.  I still can’t. I’m just checking in, but blogging from one’s phone is never fun.

This morning,  for the first time ever,  instead of privately;  on my public blog, musing away about him,  I sent him the words I don’t have to describe what he encourages in me! Guess I am feeling brave.

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