Break the fucking wall down

Another tough day. My mood finally broke around 7 p.m. I laughed. I’m not sure if it was all that good; the laughter verged on the hysterical, and went on for a few minutes. Hysterical or not, it felt good to laugh that hard and have tears in my eyes from something other than depressing thoughts. And my face isn’t crunched up into a pout or frown this morning, I can feel it.

Managed to get a few things done yesterday. I chose the visible jobs: dishes, making my bed, and getting the recycling out. My brief stint outside to toss the glass into the correct bin was enough. The wind was too cold, the grey sky a bit too bright, and I really didn’t want to be out there. I kept my shoes on all day, though. I guess I was hoping that I’d feel like a walk later. It wasn’t ’til 8 or 9 in the evening that I realized I still had them on.

Afternoon was swallowed up with horror. A weak horror film, to be sure, but the gore was enough to take my mind off myself for 95 minutes. I know Heike and Yoda said watch comedy, but the last thing I wanted yesterday was to watch comedy and NOT be able to laugh. That’s such a lonely feeling. So blood and guts it was, and it did the trick. Afterwards, I WAS able to put on comedy and enjoy it. Not laugh hard; that came later at my silly attempts to correctly make a Dutch vowel sound. But I relaxed.

Somehow I kept to 5 Js.

Two fresh baggies of green, green grass are sitting on my computer. Nope; I didn’t get them. My brother did the run. I have to pay him for them once he gets up. I sat yesterday chewing over the thought that I must get some more smoke for myself and do it SOON, but I was in no condition to make that long of a journey into public. I was crying too easily in the morning and just didn’t feel I could trust myself to keep it together. Twice while playing games I teared up. Nothing more depressing than crying while playing games. All of that added to my worry, and of course that made it worse. My bro reminded me that it was great to have such a life changing idea like taking control over my smoking, but I had to remember it couldn’t be done overnight. I need to keep flexible with myself. So I let go of the expectation to do it all alone, and decided it was okay for him to run for it as long as the money came out of my smoke stash.

Today I hope I can do a few more things. [Note: I wanted to add ‘that I let slide’ at then end of that sentence. I’m refraining from that.] I’m refusing to list them because I’m refusing to keep track of it today. There’s nothing that’s a ‘must do’. I’ll do what I feel I can do, when I feel I can do it.

Feels like I went back to the starting block over the last 48 hours. Right back to the beginning, like a glitch in a video game. Hit that one obstacle and BAM! You’re back with no extra powers and have to go through all that crap again just to get back to where you were. I guess I didn’t come with a ‘save’ button.

…I’ve gotta wonder about the Universe. On the heels of my rant about my family, I’ve received an email from my uncle asking me my opinion because he really values it. Is this my wake up call? Is this the time to rip the veil from my eyes and see that my opinion is valued and always has been valued? My untrusting self does not believe my uncle’s opinion speaks for the rest of the family. I DO value it, tho. I took the time to write a thoughtful reply.

I know the set up from the previous paragraph. I’m supposed to say my opinion has always mattered and always been important – to ME. And it has; I’ve not backed down in my stances despite the fact that they’re very unpopular in my family. I just wanted someone to stand up with me, to say ‘hey, you’ve got a good argument, well done!’ or ‘I agree with you’ rather than calling me a tree hugging communist traitor. That’s not asking too much, is it?

*sigh* Enough of the past. At least for this post.

Small, putzy projects are attracting me today. Little organizations and clean ups. I want more visual confirmation that I’m doing things. AND I need more to keep me busy on a daily basis besides housework. I know THAT trap; feeling like I’m only here to clean up and do the fucking dishes because that’s what I end up spending all my energy on. That thought has already reared it’s ugly head a few times. Time to devote my energy to MY projects, not just busy work. That’s a step up in commitment. And in confrontation of my fears; there’s something about this new stuff that scares me beyond all the production work that’s difficult. I don’t know if it’s too raw for me or what. But I will acknowledge repeated failures in my attempts to further my songs, particularly in singing. I need to get over this.

Okay. So I’m scared, and I’m not sure why. The best I can do is work to make it safe for myself. Warn my brother that something’s going on and I have no idea what’s going to come out of me. Close the drapes. Put on my headphones. Just get the fucking words out of my mouth where they should be. Screw the delivery right now. Get. it. out. This is one time and place where being easy on myself isn’t going to work. I have to punch through. Do or not do. Break that fucking wall down.