Think it’s safe to say this may be an anxiety issue.
In the last 10 days, I’ve worked 1 of them because of the weather. Which means, because of the weather I haven’t been out much. I’ve sat and done very little. I’ve been in my head a lot. Not ever a very good idea. You melt into your chair or couch or bed.
Which isn’t to say I couldn’t go out.
Not to say Paisley hasn’t asked. I went out with her yesterday.
Ok, so now gravity is pulling me down… frozen actually. You know, the anxiety FREEZE! The Anxiety gravity that pulls at you and eats at you… makes you stupid and makes you forget the strength you had just 5 minutes ago.
Fucking freeze. Fucking gravity.
So, I look out and see the snow which is falling again. I look at my phone and see the Windchill Alert for tonight on through til tomorrow after 10 am… kids can’t walk to school in that. It’s a safe bet we won’t go tomorrow either. Ah, the sweet life of the bipolar teacher. Great job! Yes, great job!
It’s freezing everywhere. Literally everywhere.
Well, Paisley isn’t freezing. She’s moving… constantly moving. Reminding me that, “it’s not so bad, Momma… let’s go play”. I think if she could put a leash around my neck she’d drag my ass outside.
I have blogged for a long time. No, no, no… I have journaled since I was little girl. I started “blogging” in the late 90’s when I had to actually write my own code – is that what you call it? Designed my own site. For the life of me, I do not know how I had the attention span to accomplish that task. But, I did it. I like it a lot. I used Geocities. I was “Missing Peace” then as well.
Even then, as new as the concept was to me – and it was fairly new I think. Maybe not. There was some consciousness in the idea that you were no longer just writing for just yourself… that you were taking the pen – so to speak – off the paper and out of the book and putting it on the screen and were now letting people into your life. It wasn’t rocket science then. And then… we didn’t tag things like we do now. I certainly wasn’t writing bipolar posts or borderline posts intentionally. Whoever read it… read it. Whatever we said… we said and it didn’t matter what people thought or how they took it. Maybe we were more conscientious about what we wrote? I don’t know.
Now we tag things. We do it in every possible media experience we have – if we choose.
So my question is this? (and this may seem like it’s getting personal – because it is 🙂 )
If you put yourself out there in these spaces? You even go as far as inviting people back into your own space in some cases?
You leave a place for them to comment on your thoughts – your writing? Even when you make the first move…
Do you not willingly or not also leave space for critique (if you need to call it that) from people in those spaces? Most of whom you do not know – shall we call them the “Crazies”?
(No one deserves to be attacked for sharing their thoughts, ever. Please understand this has nothing to do with that.)
I’m just asking?
Because if I left the door open to your space, which I have no desire to do… it would be sickly obvious that without the crazy you could not exist. You act as though you don’t know anything about the “Crazies” you wrote about. Your site screams volumes of craziness and chaos…
For some reason you need them to see you in your Tom Ford suits. Yet you aren’t writing about yourself, remember? The sad truth, Dear, is that they don’t care what you are wearing.
You are a simple distraction for them. You distract them like everyone else on their “following” list distracts them. Or you wouldn’t be on that list. They purposely chose to let you into their lives.
You take them away from the bullshit in their life for a moment. And, maybe they relate to you. Maybe they don’t. Because that’s what they needed in that moment. Maybe they decide to press “like”. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they decide to “comment” – which is all it is – or they don’t.
You come here for the exact same reasons they do. This place, Geocites, and all of the other places past and present are for the same thing… To Share and to RELATE. You can tell yourself otherwise, but don’t. It would be a waste of your time.
We ALL have a lot to share. And here, very specifically, we get to decide what we want to share and who we want to to share it with. Don’t abuse that right.
And, the “Crazies” are going to notice that some of it’s good and some of it sucks. Yes. They comment on some of it and could care less about the other. They do this on your site and all of the others they “follow”. Yes, there are others. I’m sorry.
Don’t leave space for comments if you don’t like to hear what the “Crazies” have to say. But, again, without those “Crazies” you might be in trouble.
It’s still not rocket science, Dear.
What intrigues me most… is the overwhelming amount of positive commenting that oozes from your comment section. Yet, you bitch about it. Yet, you write about the crazy in your life. No, no.. that’s right, it’s not about your life?!?! Please, sir… in your Tom Ford suits… don’t insult “the reader” any longer. We are only here for the distraction.
Negative comments happen. If in fact they do? But, again, that’s all they are. Comments. Not poetry critiques. And, certainly this is not a critique (reminding you that this only came after you sent me to your site from my own):
“Yep.. this is where the idea came from for Naming The Storm… Great minds and all of that shit, right?”
And just saying… if you want to be respected as a poet… any kind of artist… then take a critique, any critique, wherever it came from. A worthy poet would have come up with something better than a piece attacking critique from the “Crazies”.
How “crazy” vain you are… standing there in you Tom Ford suit…
This is “Keep Jami’s Junk in Her Pants Week” according to Therapy Man. Yes, I know, probably way too much info here, but ya needed some back story and well… that’s the back story.
I have a friend that I exchange emails with. LOVE HIM! We have come to refer to this week as “No Soup For You” week.
Needless to say… I had the soup. Yes, again with Danger Boy, even after I named the storm!
And, of course… I don’t just want the soup… I want the recipe!
Thus… I’m looking for allllll kinds of meaning behind the conversation/s we had and have had for the last 3 years! None of them are different, mind you…. but I’m still lookin’ for meaning!
Now… I have had many a talk with many a person about this boy! Yes, yes… I know. He’s a dick. But, the soup is good. I have paid professionals to tell me that he means nothing behind what he says. It’s just soup – so to speak. My friends – the ones willing to still talk to me about him will say the same thing. Ex-boyfriend still may throw down with him (regardless the fact that he’s a cop) because he’s even more of an idiot than most guys. Yeah… he’s a few bricks short of a load. Again… just really damn good soup…
And… apparently, I am a few bricks short myself.
I do have a problem. I know it and it’s not just Jason/Danger Boy. Which is why my therapist declared it “keep Jami’s junk in her pants” week. He was definitely trying to prove a point. He wins. I lose (which is debatable 🙂 — ok, not funny, sorry. eh!).
Back to my point and my friend… so, I email my friend and tell him I broke the Nazi soup guy rule and while I was at it I did NOT get the recipe. And, on top of it, Danger Boy said some dickish stuff that I should not have been surprised about, but none-the-less, was slightly bent about, but was still wanting meaning and still let him come over, and friend says to me…
I think men…almost all men, say exactly what they mean. They rarely speak in subtleties like women do. And as much as it hurts, I think he meant exactly what he said. I think he’s trying to make it clear that he does not want a relationship. I know it sucks to hear that, but on some level knowing it allows you the ability to NOT feel compelled to be available to him.
For some reason the skies opened up above and I heard the hallelujah chorus begin to play… it’s not like I hadn’t heard those words before – obviously they weren’t stated quite like that. IDK… here’s the thing my friend doesn’t know Jason at all. He doesn’t know me that well (no! he’s not tasted my soup!) nor is he interested. He lives a million miles away… so it’s NOT LIKE THAT! IDK… I don’t pay him for advice like I do Therapy Man… I just know he doesn’t have any vested interest in telling me what he did. He’s a man and… well…. he’s been around a lot of them. Not that I haven’t, obviously – which is why I have my problems… but, I just don’t learn a damn thing.
This doesn’t happen much – if at all! But I believe the opening of the heavens was a sign that I actually trusted those words for what they were! *happy dance* Now… trusting and acting on them are two entirely different things in my life.
That soup… hmm… that problem I have… hmm.. It is really a problem and I don’t want to recognize it as one. Who wants to admit they are addicted to sex?
In all seriousness?
Here’s the thing. I’m a grown woman. Single. I’d like to think that I can have a “just sex” relationship. I mean why not? Uhh… prolly not. I’m just not built for one? yes, that was actually a question – even tho I already know the damn answer.
Fuck this disease. Yeah, I’m going to blame it a little bit. Just a lil bit. I think if I was just a little bit more normal? No? Prolly wouldn’t make a difference? Uh…. Gah! What’s the keystroke for the middle finger emoji? I’d like that right now!
Oh look… there it is!
I’m just sitting here spinning right now.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…
In all fairness, when I was a little girl I never wanted to be grown up! Now I know why!
If I could gather up all the days
I spent wrapped up in you
and somehow get them back…
I would have a whole life to live again.
You know that this is going to happen this weekend, Jami. Right? That you are going to go to this place. That you will dig deep into this hole and cover yourself up in the pain and tears that go with it all? Went… with it…
It’s gone. The pain… it could be anyway. If I wanted to let it go. If YOU wanted to let it go. There doesn’t have to be space for it. There can be memories without pain? I am sure of it. I can smile through them. I did it once. I did it then when they were happening. I surely can do it again if I wanted to – needed to? Surely?
Doesn’t have to be so much thought to everything all the time!
Why so much energy into something that doesn’t exist all the damn time, Jami?
I was just dancing around my little living room with this amazing beast…
and I was smiling… and then a hint of him danced through my head and this post started to develop. That’s when I realized that I have wasted so much of my life on thoughts that don’t matter… so much time on people that I can’t get back and so little time on Paisley… and myself.
I don’t know that it will ever change. I am who I am. I work on it all the time. I actually work on Smiling. Yeah…
This weekend is going to suck. I realize I am setting myself up for it right now – honestly I started a long time ago… but, it’s gonna be a tough one.
I have my dog… and my blog! We’ll see how it goes.