Monday, September 26, 2011

No actual topic or organization and lots of things that I've been doing and saying and sometimes its sad and sometimes funny so there's that.

Train of thought/stream of consciousness GO:

I sold my house. The one I've lived in for the last 6 years. I'm excited. I want to be out. I need to be gone. I need to move on. I have about 30 days left to live there. And I'm already packing like crazy. I bought myself a house on the opposite side of town. Yes. I did that. By myself. The girl who 4 years ago picked a therapist based on proximity and my first exposure challenges were to drive to a gas station that was different and get gas there. And now I'm just moving. Like 45 minutes away. I work and got a loan and drive anywhere and everywhere and I meet people and I take care of business. I'm still clumsy and lazy and often really slobby, but I'm totally a different person than the girl who couldn't make it out to the mailbox and couldn't go to bed without hours of ritualizing. I am so rocking this.

But sometimes, I'm walking through my house that I will live in for only 30 more days and I just get kicked in the guts by the universe. I can't breathe. This is MY HOME. This WAS my home. Is it still a home or just a house? I don't know anymore. It's the place where both of my babies took their first steps and said their first words and had their first birthday parties. It's the place where there are loving scars all over the walls from moving around furniture and toddler art and dogs careening around the corner on the tile when they hear the door open. It's the swing set in the backyard that has been a pirate ship and princess clubhouse and grown-up hideaway a long time ago when life was different. It's memories that are tainted now. It echoes dreams of a future that won't ever happen. It's the place where OCD held me hostage. And its the place where I found the strength to overcome it. It's the place I came home to when mental illness was wearing me out. And it's the place where I sat alone in the brand new living room on the day we bought it. No one had ever lived there. It was new and ours and it was our future and our possibility and our life stretching out before us. It was quiet and empty and clean and had not yet been filled with laughing and running and burnt popcorn and screams of little girls trying to chase a frog out the door. And it hadn't yet been marred by the words that broke and changed and re-routed those dreams and promises. It hadn't yet been painted with confusion and brokenness and tears and loneliness.

So sometimes I can't wait to leave that house that used to be a home. I want to be somewhere better and start over and try again. And sometimes I don't want to leave. I want to stay there and re-create the laughing and the love and the family even though my family might look a little different now. I want to dust the bitterness out of the corners and clean the stains of my mistakes and wash the walls free of all the damage we caused to that little house. And I want to tell the house, I'm sorry. You made a good home for us. For me. And for that I thank you. But I'm sorry little house, I can't be here anymore. I'm sorry to leave you with such bad energy and negativity and please please, little house, let the new folks make a home full of all of the good things that you gave us. Let them laugh and mark heights on the wall and play in the grass and chase that frog who still lives on the porch. I'm going to miss what my home was. But I am proud of myself for leaving behind what it became. But it's just hard.

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I built a fort. In my living room. A box fort. Out of empty boxes. I should have been packing but instead I was sitting in my fort drinking beer and watching TV. because I am a grown-up. And this is what grown-ups do, I hear. Actually, I have not the slightest clue what real grown-ups do everyday. I'm probably like the suckiest grown-up ever. Except I have a job and own a house almost. That's for real grown-up. And from my house I'm closer to kickball, which I play with lots of other grown-ups in a league. And then I go home and color. In my fort.

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So this happened...
Caller: Hey is this one of them eye places?
Me: Um...sure?
Caller: Where like they do them eye exams and stuff?
Me: Well yes but let me transfer you to the medi...
Caller: OK good. because my dogs got in a fight and then there got to be a big ol scratch on one of their eyes and now it's all bulgy and sticking out and he might be blind.
Me: Who might be blind? Did your dogs hurt someone?
Caller: No the DOG.
Me: Someone hurt the dog?
Caller: My one dog scratched all up my other dog's eye and now it's all bulgy and pussy and the vet thinks he's probably blind and I want someone to look at his eyes.
Me:...OK...wait...You want to bring in the DOG.
Caller: YES. I need to make an appointment for you to see my dog.
Me:...OK...Yeah...No that's not happening. Thanks.

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I did sell my Wedding Dress. Let me know if anyone has need to buy a beautiful diamond ring, DVD player, Yamaha keyboard, Behringer Amp, or a whole mess of other crap that I really need the money for and don't want to move. Or I ain't to proud to flat out beg. Single mama just bought me a house and I need dollars! I'm working 2 jobs but don't be afraid to support your favorite blog!

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I got a new tattoo. I love it. I mean, I had every intention of getting it for a long time. But one night when my plans fell through I thought, OK self, what do normal single mom adult types do after work? And so I headed straight to my favorite tattoo artist. He took my rendition of a treble clef and made it flower and grow and placed it on my ribs on the right side. The process is still just as cathartic as my first one. Although that one is getting covered up soon...

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I've developed this habit of meeting people literally everywhere I go. I just talk and talk and talk and I've met all kinds of great folks. I feel like I am making up for lost time. All those years when anxiety and OCD and agoraphobia stole my ability to interact with other human people. To feel them laugh and hear them talk and see their eyes and watch the nuances of people as they interact in a way that only human people can. Sometimes it overwhelms my senses and I stop and just take in my environment. And sometimes I give out a fake number. Either/or.

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Sometimes situations happen that make you question everything you thought you knew. I've been there and back over the last few days. Things happen and people show up that have always been there but somehow you missed it and then they show up right in your face and you're all "Easy Captain Gets-too-Close" but that's a metaphor because it's not their face that actually shows up right in front of you. It's that actual person. And then you go "The Frick Universe?!" And then you realize (and by you, I mean me) how incredible that people can bond to each other over such short periods of time and how amazing it is that bonds can last for decades. And then I remember why I like being alive and meeting people and knowing people no matter how complicated and interwoven our lives can get. Especially when all of our lives are all tangled together in a mess. That just makes us stronger like a big wad of knotted yarn which i use as a simile because I literally threw away like 5 pounds of knotted together yarns as I was packing/fort building.

Thank you. That is all for today.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Sometimes it just hurts. But we have to hitch up our big-girl panties and keep on going.

I’m back in the game. Well, I guess really, I’m kind of in the game for the first time. Or back in the game since so long ago that should actually be playing in the alumni version with the cracked hips and the geriatric tackles.


OK…backing up.

I’m loving my new job as an optician. I love my store, my office, my co-workers, my patients, my hours, everything. I love helping and being creative and being good at my work. I’m changing things and updating things and when the paycheck comes, I feel proud of myself. Because I am taking care of me and my family and I’m doing well at it. I love that I also get to play piano and sing and do freelance work as a musician. I am taking care of my life and my family and my needs. I support me. I support us. Its really cool.

On the other hand, we just sold our house. (Yay!) I wanted it sold so that I could finally move on with this life. I want a new start and a new life and I want to run with these feelings of strength and pride and accomplishment. But it wasn’t that easy. It never is my intention to just slam people here at So Now You Know. It’s not positive energy for the universe. It’s not Christ-like. But I also need to be honest. I believe that my experiences happen in order to be shared and connected to similar persons. Selling was a battle. My former spouse and I are having a lot of trouble communicating. At all. Ever. For even the tiniest thing. So trying to come together and agree on something as big as accepting the contract was hard. We did not see eye to eye. Figuratively and literally of course because honestly I could tower over him easily in even my lowest heels.

So it got heated. I won’t lie. I started it. I was hurt and frustrated and confused. I feel as though I have been held hostage in the marriage. I just want to be out. That’s what he wants and all I want is to make that happen. But decisions are made and things are said and it gets worse and worse and worse and then it gets personal. I heard that I “never loved him”. And it cut me so bad. I honestly did not see that coming. The pain of hearing that, I mean. He told me that “I never loved him.” Wow. Ouch. It still stings even today. It’s making me feel emotions that hurt. Bad. I’m trying to kick those emotions in the vagina as Danonymous tells me to do. I’m trying to put on the tough girl face and keep moving forward. But for someone that I devoted my life to, and made marriage vows to, and had children with, and respected, and enjoyed, and had fun with, and learned from to tell me that he felt as though “I never loved him. That’ll Mess. You. Up.

Then as fuel to a flame I was reminded that I wasn’t loved either. And that hurts. It hurts so much for several reasons. I don’t know how to describe rejection like that. It’s like everything you every thought about yourself is a lie. All the good things, all the happy, all the triumph just becomes as if it never were. Which made me feel like I never was. It’s insignificant. It’s dust. It’s degrading. It’s unadulterated, unfiltered, raw stabs to your actual self. It’s the loss of all sense of being grounded in reality. Memories are fake, conversations are no longer sacred, there is no nostalgia. Seeing myself lifted out of my entire existence and watching someone new drop into it seamlessly is so surreal. I have a crushing understanding of true betrayal. I feel like a ghost watching my own life. And it’s not that I want that life back. No. because I deserve more. And right now I have more. But it would be nice to at least be missed. Or acknowledged. Or just…anything. It is a pain worse than death. It’s the pain of wanting to be dead.

Before you run to the suicide hotline, let me finish. Yeah. I went back to that dark place that night. I’d been standing on the edge of it for a long time. I have some amazing people standing on the edge next to me. They tell me that as soon as I am ready to back away from that dark dark ledge that they will be out there in the real world with me. And until then, they stand next to me on the dark dark ledge to make sure I don’t fall, or jump, or get pushed in. So I must admit that when they weren’t looking, or took a break to go pee or shift change or something, I tried to get back in there. I got down in there and wasn’t sure if I wanted out or not. But then, I looked up and saw their faces and their outstretched hands and the eyes full of compassion and not judgment and not belittlement. I reached up and I took a hand. It pulled me back.

And then do you want to know the crazy part?! One of those people was me. The real me. The one that knows deep down that I am not worthless and the last decade has not been in vain and the me that does not regret anything I have felt or sacrificed or given for others. Even when that wasn’t reciprocated. It hurts. But I did it anyway. It was the real me that is smarter and stronger and taller and probably more cautious but also much more adventurous. And that me took the hand of the too many pills me and said “Listen, bitch. This is not happening. You are NOT giving away any more power. You had your pity party. Move along sister. These people are here to help.” And they did. They are. They are Danonymously protecting my little armor chinks just until I can get those holes patched back up.

So…like I said, untwist your panties. I’m safe. I’m fine. I’m just vascillating between pain and pride. Love and Loss. Fear and Fantastic. Trust and terror. Life and Living. New and Nostalgic. Fact and Fiction. Truth and Consequence. Action and Reaction. I'm opening and learning and letting other people in. And you know what sucks, they might hurt me too. maybe even worse. But, the good news is that I’m here to tell the tale. And I'll tell whatever new tales come along in the future. I’m here to be blunt and brutal and a little bit scary when I tell you my brain. But, as someone once told me, everything happens for a reason…

Thursday, September 15, 2011

D'Artagnan begins to show himself: Lessons I have learned while being unemployed

Check out an awesome new blog by a friend of mine! Y'all be nice to him OK! Also, don't be fooled by the "showing himself" part. It's not that. I totally thought that too. It's actually some kind of literary reference or whatever. Yeah, I totally acted like I knew that already too.

D'Artagnan begins to show himself: Lessons I have learned while being unemployed: When I was working I used to daydream about what I would do if I ever got fired or laid off. I used to tell myself that I would sit aro...

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

For real. I mean seriously. Also I like country music now?

I'm Angela. Angela Murphree. You might remember me from this little blog I used to write this one time called So Now You Know. I'm thinking about getting back into it. What do you think? Also, I am a recovering Obsessive-Compulsive. I am happily a former agoraphobic. I am a maintainer of panic and anxiety. I live with episodic major depressive episodes and OCD triggers. Also, I'm alive now. And a fully functioning, contributing member of society.

Yeah, sometimes I contribute some weird-ass stuff. But I'm here and I'm doing it. The trick was learning that I had to do it for me. Not for everyone else. I control my happy depsite or because of any circumstance I may create (or find myself forced into or dared to or just moments of being retarded and doing retarded things.) I get to decide if I want to be positive or negative about situations. I get to decide to hate or love. I decide to judge or to put myself in their shoes. I decide what words I should use to hurt or to help. I decide if I'm going to wallow like an asshole or look for something I can take away from the situation that is helpful. You know, things like "OK, so lesson learned. When I speed past a cop, don't slam on my brakes because that totally draws attention to you and gets you pulled over." or "OK, life lesson...don't stick your hands down in dark holes. Just don't. Ever. As a general rule. Also don't put your face in there after you decide it's not a great idea to put your hand in there."

Or "OK, note to self...hating someone is only keeping me trapped and bitter and angry and blocking my ability to create a positive energy that draws in positive people and places. I need to be the one to put myself out there and let it go. This situation is for a reason. Somebody's reason. Maybe it's not even for me to know why I have to be the one going through this. Maybe it's for someone else to SEE me go through it and learn lessons from how I handle it. Am I going to be hateful? mean? spiteful? I hope not. Hurt? untrustung for a while? angry? confused? Yeah. I'm gonna be those things too. But I'm going to handle it and maybe someday when someone else is feeling really really crappy I can simply say 'hey. I know what it feels like. It gets better."

That was an awfully specific life lesson.

I'm still in the process of being legally divorced. I know that I have reached a place of acceptance with that. My mind and my heart and my spirit and my intellect are already "divorced" and reaching places of independance that I have never before experienced. When I have these moments of clarity and sheer positive energy and bouyant spirit from doing things like going to work and driving and house shopping and dating, I try to absorb them and feel them and store them and live inside those moments and those emotions and those intellectual thoughts. When I trace the steps that brought me to that moment, I am so aware of God and the energy that He creates. I am literally brain bent at how every mental illness, every breakdown, every job, every contact, every experience shaped me and prepared me to be able to live inside this moment exactly where I am supposed to be. I am overwhelmed that I spent years preparing for an event I didn't know would happen, but was always a part of my life's track. I am amazed that the job I needed, the money I needed, the friends I needed, the family I needed, the patience I needed, were all beginning their track towards this moment years ago. Everything was lining up to converge at the right place and the right time. And I try to soak in that feeling. That emotion. That place where I am supposed to be.

But with the positive does come the negative. Sometimes I find myself brought to my knees with hurt and confusion and abandonment. And sometimes I am overcome by emotion and mental illness and the intellectual understanding of what is happening and the knowledge that there is nothing I could have or should have done to prevent it. And I try to absorb all that feeling. I want to feel it. I live in those moments of grief and anxiety and anger and I close my eyes and I memorize how it feels and what my body feels like and what my mind is saying. I cry or curse or scream or more often than not, I laugh from the sheer absurdity of actually thinking that I knew exactly where my life was heading and how it was going to be for the next 40 years. And honestly, what fun would that have been if I actually had been able to predict my future up until I presumably turned old and grey (which I won't because hello hair salon and face lift). I live in those horribly, terribly, lonely, cold, shitty moments because I need to. That's how we learn. And then I stop and remind myself to breathe. And then I remember that I am breathing. And then it occurs to me that I am using my mind for thinking. And I think about how I have capacity for emotion. And I feel lucky just to be alive to feel it. And then, luckily, I feel happy. And happily I feel stronger and stand taller and feel good about me. Just me being me. And me happily and luckily opens the place where I keep all the positive feelings that I was living in earlier and me being me goes back into that place. And I add to the positivity from having just lived through another experience. A lesson. A dark hole that I stuck my hand into without knowing what was in there.

Life lesson: Don't try to figure out where your future is going to take you. You'll know when you get there. And you'll stay there as long as you are supposed to. But know that everyone and everything and everyplace you encounter is potentially preparing you for that moment. And who knows, maybe you are the person who is going to shape someone else's future moments.

Dress on Ebay! Tell you friends!

I really need this to happen. Seriously.

http://www.ebay.com/itm/Irritating-reminder-one-time-got-married-Wedding-Dress-Size-12-/120777324134?_trksid=p3286.m7&_trkparms=algo%3DLVI%26itu%3DUCI%26otn%3D2%26po%3DLVI%26ps%3D63%26clkid%3D2780673655605290554


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