Monday, July 27, 2009

... as well as realizing that you don't need your own crap.

I've now had 3 weeks of feeling better than I have in a long time! I'm starting to talk to people again, starting to get more ideas, starting to live a little more. Although I'm still having problems with Twitter and reading my usual blogs. I don't know why but I am. I just don't want to go to there.


hahahah no... no... ok, maybe...

I had some breakthroughs in therapy. It was quite a release which... well, I didn't expect. I mean I sat there talking to my therapist and all I could do was cry... and not in a sad way, but in a ... well, like a dam breaking; a release of emotions with relief.

I've been looking for the me that was me. I didn't like where I had gotten to with the depression and the manic as well as the tailspin the diagnosis had thrown me into. So here I was trying to be the me that was... and I realized how ridiculous that was... mainly due to that quote I posted a couple of weeks ago:

It reminded me of something Da5id used to tell me. He reminded me that I used to be a gamer, used to be more of a tech head, used to, used to, used to and I have to let that go. It's ok to not be that anymore.

Meditating on it more I realized that I was still doing it especially by looking to be the me that was. I was always here... I will always be here... but I have to learn to evolve. To do otherwise would be to allow myself to become stagnant and that's not what I'm about.

It was odd to come to this realization because I've always known it, always preached it, yet somehow never quite applied it to myself, at least not in the truest sense. I was going the wrong way about it by looking to be, although a better Ceci, still an old rendition of myself.

I also came to realize from my Manic post from a couple of weeks ago that I don't really MISS the manic... or at least not most of it. I don't miss the feeling of holding on to the electrical fence of life not being able to let go, I don't miss the senseless feeling of panic and desperation while masochistically loving it. I especially don't miss the feeling of knowing that this couldn't be right and that I would burn too brightly if I kept it up much longer.

"... but I need sorrow, baby, like sorrow is the drug..."

Finally I realized that the boyo and I need to evolve and that the things that cause our arguments (aside from the cognitive distortions) have to do with my expectations. Relationships don't work that way... and again I knew that. I somehow expected him to stick with things he used to do that I loved, a laundry list of "Things to do to show me you love me." How fucked up is that?! All of a sudden it was so clear to me.

In thinking back to our old arguments, I wondered how I could have been so blind. There were so many things about the boyo that I've always known and yet expected otherwise. I don't know why I didn't see those things and upon realizing them, I knew that I had known this for quite some time now but never applied it, like a veil had been lifted from in front of my eyes.

Cheesy as it might sound, I felt like I now understood what was meant by "waiting to exhale" because I felt like I could finally breathe, could finally release.

I have always known this. It's only now that I've learned how to apply it to myself without letting all the issues, all the distortion, all the white noise get in the way.

I call that a victory.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

For Georgia O'Keefe

I want

to walk,

with you

on my Texas desert,

to stand near

you straight

as a Spanish Dagger,

to see your fingers

pick a bone bouquet

touching life

where I touch death

to hold a warm, white

pelvis up

to the glaring sun

and see

your red-blue worls

to feel you touch

my eyes as you touch canvas

to unfold

giant blooms.

~Pat Mora~

I've loved that poem since the 7th grade. I think it's stunning and I can hear it in my head.

but I just can't get enough of

This... makes me happy today:
It also made me think of Chloé.

Something about it makes me remember that I wish for impossible things... and sometimes get them.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Earlier, a couple of comments that were posted due to my fa-cheybook status got me thinking of poetry.

I can't write poetry but I love it. I love to read it, love to hear it... love what it does to words with its rhythm.

I have a poem that keeps going 'round my head ever since I opened up my Emily Dickinson book a month or so ago. I place it here now.

This is my letter to the World,
That never wrote to me,--
The simple news that Nature told,

With tender majesty.

Her message is committed

To hands I cannot see.

For love of her, sweet countrymen,

Judge Tenderly of me!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009


Day 2 of not being able to sleep well. I blame the manic. My therapist thinks I just have too much in my head and no idea how to express it. We had a good session yesterday, but like all sessions, there's too much to say and never enough time. I could talk for hours. She thinks I'm overly tired and, like a kid who wants to stay up, not allowing myself to sleep.

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the manic.

Well, I don't miss the waking up at between 3 and 4 in the morning with my mind racing faster than I can shake the sleep off. It's like someone talking while you're sleeping that creeps into your dreams, then becomes something you're this shy of understanding between sleeping and waking until you're fully awake and trying to make sense of it all.

I do miss the writing at night as I follow a thought into a story into a sleepless night with something to show for it. I miss the 3 to 4 hour conversations with Stephen until the wee hours of the morning. I miss the feel of everything that comes over me at night. I miss the direct connection to the lifeline.

Basically, it's hard for me to see my life in the midst of all this routine and I'm told I'm not supposed to really have one. I'm supposed to be resting, supposed to be learning how to cope with this, supposed to be getting used to the here and now so that the episodes aren't so bad later. It makes me miss the manic.

In writing all this out, though, I can see the problem with it. I can remember the nights where it was too much, an overload of information, ideas and emotions. The feeling that I would burn with the rawness of it all.

I think through this routine I'm starting to resurface and question what was and what I will do with all of this. I'm at a crossroads, in a sense. Do I fight the old way or do I learn how I might be able to incorporate it into the new?

I think it's pretty obvious but old habits die hard.

What would an angel say
the devil wants to know...
Fiona Apple

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Dear Monday

Friday, July 10, 2009


We've been through a lot, the boyo and I.

When I decided to separate from the ex-boyo, I knew Da5id was something. I had known him for a couple years by then and I loved that he never judged me and always knew exactly what I was talking about. We had similar war stories.

I was scared, though. Here I was knowing that I had to jump from this cliff into the dreaded d-word and it scared me. I had been wrong and now I had to undo it, and I knew divorce wasn't easy. Da5id stood by me.

When we started to date, not long after, he had to live with my doubt. Here's a girl he fell in love with that went back and forth from "I love you" to "Perhaps I should go back to my husband."

It wasn't meant to hurt... or tease, it was only because I had no idea what I should do despite knowing what I should do. I was scared. I was scared of constantly jumping from person to person and thinking "This one. This is it" and then being wrong. Worse still, making this big of a mistake that now involved divorce again. Even at all! What if I was just constantly looking for better instead of learning how to make it work?

I was wrong, though.

I was wrong about jumping from guy to guy, forever thinking the grass is always greener. This time I wanted to fight for this relationship. This time, through good and bad, whether him or me, I wanted to work it out. Why? Because I love him more than anything, because after 8 or so years, he still makes my toes curl and still gives me butterflies in my stomach. Even better; this time, I was right. I knew that then, but was too scared to embrace it and maybe I had to work through that fear in order to get to this.

The other day he came by to our new offices just to say hi because he was in the neighborhood. Seeing him in a place that my mind says "Wait, he doesn't belong in this picture" made my day. I suppose, to me, it was like seeing an oasis in the desert. I was giddy as he went along on an errand to the bank where I had to make a deposit for work. The whole way there I kept beaming up at him and holding his hand.

I love his hands. They fit perfectly in mine and feel so comfortable there. The first time we kissed, there was no awkwardness, no adjusting or readjusting to try to get it right. He already knew... or perhaps it was just another example as to how we were two parts of a whole.

Currently, with the bipolar disorder diagnosis, he's been very patient, taking the blows and the episodes somehow. Standing still as I (figuratively) punch him and (literally) scream at him. This is not what he signed up for. This is not the girl he met.

I am worse than ever, or rather, right up until the meds kicked in. I was at a new high in the Ceci scale of crazy. Sure he always knew I was a little crazy, but it used to be a good crazy.

He needs a medal or something.

I love him... whole-ly, deeply, madly. There were times when he started to fall/ was falling that I was there to catch him. This time he's catching me.

We won't let each other fall off that ledge, no matter how close we come to it.

"If that's what it takes
then don't let it tear us apart
even if it breaks your heart"

Cut Copy - Out there on the Ice

Thursday, July 9, 2009

The night before, I started dreaming again... I dreamt of children enslaved in mines, learning how to manipulate elements, elementary school days (and daze), being a cunning child and transforming in accordance to what changed around me by using what I had learned.

Last night I dreamt of friends and college. I spoke with Maile and Amandazon and nearly tackled Stephen from where I was sitting, almost pulling down his pants. I dreamt of the last apartment in college that Leigh and I shared and the parties we had there with everyone in attendance.

Dreaming means that I'm resting. It's like watching TV but seeing the show that my mind puts on when just left to rest.

Me? I'm comfortably in bed watching it. Some scenes I see, some I don't. I flitter in and out of the show, just like I would if I were sick and lying on the couch watching movies. Consciousness to unconsciousness. Floating. Resting.

I'm learning to be me again. I still hate the routine, still hate that there aren't enough hours in the day anymore. I'd still like to sacrifice sleep to do more of what I want to do. I can't. I know I can't because then the manic comes... and after that, the low Low.

I really miss talking to Stephen though. REALLY. I miss the things I loved about life before the meds.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

I go back and forth from this:

To this:

They're both very me. Pensive and cynical to feisty and not giving a shit as long as it's me.

I love A Softer World.

Thoughts for Tuesday

Monday, July 6, 2009

Hi kids.

Today I was reminded of why I love Cedric. A lot of it has to do with how he's sometimes so much like me. We watched Cashback at movie night tonight. Cedric's choice. Near the end he pointed out one of the scenes that was one of his favorites and I was stunned. I was stunned for several reasons; one being that I would have so chosen that scene as one of my favorites and the other being that he unabashedly said so.

What you have to know about movie night is that we all sit there and sort of MST3K the movie. It's tough to show a movie you like because you have to be able to put up with all the comments. That doesn't mean that people don't like it. We just like to make comments over it. I've also thought that it takes a lot to show people that this is what you love and this is what you think because it's open to ridicule. In that, though, movie night is us putting it out there and saying to each other over all of the funny comments that, yes, I love this film and yes, you can ridicule it all you want and you might like it too. It's ok to do it, we're all friends and we all put it out there.

I highly recommend you watch Cashback.


Today was the first day that I've felt better than I have in a LONG time. In fact, I've had one of the best weekends. Well, that's tough to say as the past 3 to 4 weekends have been pretty great, but this one sort of was a culmination of everything. I'm not sure if it's just that the meds are finally doing exactly what they're supposed to do, but something's working.

I can't even say what exactly it was that did it... I just know that I feel like I love things again instead of just going through my routine.

I had a great weekend, as I've said. On Thursday night I went to my first rodeo in St. Paul, Oregon with Lillie and Soggy. You know what? I had a good time! Her family reminded me A LOT of my mom's side of the family. They were very welcoming and they made us feel like family. We were only supposed to stay 'til Friday but we stayed until noon on Saturday. It was really truly a good time and it was hard to leave Lillie's family and friends.

We also met Quigley the dog who could not only fit herself into a bucket of water (it was sofa king hot this weekend) but could also jump onto a horse and stand there. One of the best dog's ever!

Saturday was Jason's Boomfest. You may have seen pictures from last year's 4th celebration at Jason's and this year was VERY similar. Again there was the big fireworks display, toys being blown up and roman candle duels. It works exactly like it sounds. Each person has a roman candle and they start back to back. Each person takes 10 paces then turns around and lights their roman candle and fires at the other person.

Yeah, I know. It's crazy.

PDXPhotogeek took the BEST pictures of it. Go here to see the lot of them.

Here are some highlights:

One of the toys that was blown up.

William in a duel.

Sean in the duel with William

Scars from Sean's duel with the boyo.

Cedric and M (one of my favorite pictures)

The duel between Wendy Lady and the boyo.

Wendy Lady.

We love our Wendy Lady.

Is it any wonder I love my boyo??? I'm a lucky, lucky girl. He is certainly one of a kind and strong enough to handle even that which he didn't sign up for.

My mom's right, he deserves a sainthood. Someone call the pope or something.

All this... makes me happy.

Only this moment
Holds us together
Close to perfection
Nothing else out there
No one to guide us
Lost in our senses
Deep down inside I know our love will die

Only this moment
Holds us together
Lost in confusion
Feelings are out there
Scared of devotion
Doubting intentions
Deep down inside I know our love will die

Stay or forever go
Play or you'll never know
What heaven decided
You can't deny it's
All you've been waiting for

Stay or forever go
Play or you'll never know
Your spirit's divided
You will decide if I'm
All you've been waiting for

Clouds in my head have been parted with grace
By the voices of an angel revealing her face
and her words they make sense 'n' I do understand
Falling in love isn't part of a plan

Forces within me mix reason with lust, but
I'll try to accept it and not make it worse
'cause I know I might loose it by taking the chance,
(But) love without pain isn't really romance

Only this moment
Holds us together
Close to perfection
Nothing else out there
Always beside her
Trusting my senses
Deep down inside I know love will survive

Only this moment
Holds us together
Close to the other
Nothing else out there
Always beside her
Trusting my senses
Deep down inside I know love will survive

Only This Moment