motheralice

thoughts randlomly dropped


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Awash in Unreality

Yesterday, like so many other Americans, I woke to news that shocked me to my core.  I sat at my kitchen table with the news of the election results and all I could do was stare and wait for my brain to absorb the information that nearly half of my countryfolk voted for a man who has admitted to sexual assault, denigrated women (and called for a repeal of the 19th Amendment), people of any colour, and the disabled, openly fostered hate, and encouraged another country to hack into our government’s computer system.  I spent the morning grieving for the country I thought I knew.  Weeping to know that many of my friends and loved ones feel actively endangered by this result and fear for their safety and wellbeing.  Weeping for the women who voted against themselves.  Angry at white America.  Angry at the media for indulging in what began as something I never thought would progress this far.  

Here we are.  

So, this is how our democracy works.  The people vote and whomever wins the electoral votes (not necessarily the popular vote, as evidenced by our results), wins.  Lacking a justified legal challenge, that’s the end of it.  Many of us are shocked and saddened and angry that a man who fosters such fear and hate was elected to the highest office of our land.  We are afraid of what’s to come.  We expect to have to fight- for our rights, for our planet, for our humanity.  

Many of us grieve the lost trust in our neighbour- even without knowing it- for these are the people who, disregarding his lack of ethics and offensive personal behaviour, still voted for him.  Women who in every case voted against their own personal best interest.  People are protesting already.  It’s understandable, but unhelpful at this point, I think.  Now is the time to regroup and unify.  Remember, the folks who voted for him don’t necessarily see him as dangerous- they see him as hope- for jobs and to correct a government they believe has gotten to big.  We seldom believe we are the bad guy, regardless of which side of the fence we sit on. 

We have to forgive our neighbours for voting their fear, their worst voices.  Forgive them for being tricked into listening without their hearts.  *I* have to do this, or I’m not sure how I can move forward without being bitter/fearful/hateful/walled up all the time.  That’s not helpful and it’s certainly no way to live.  I have to keep moving forward, we all do.  So we need to get clear.  We need to forgive and save the fight for when we know for certain where to land the punch. 

Nothing has happened yet.  They’re all still nodding and smiling (if sadly in some cases) and doing the first changeover steps.  We have a moment to breathe, to rest, and most importantly to plan.  We can be peaceful, quiet, and go on with our lives- but when the time comes, when the first gauntlet is tossed, we must take it seriously and stand for what we believe in.  For our rights, for our neighbours and loved ones, for our planet.  We cannot let him role back women’s rights, civil rights, environmental protections, and all the civil progress we have made. 

He’s told us what he intends to do in the first 100 days of his term.  We have a moment to plan our responses, consider all our options and grow stronger in our chosen arenas, and ready ourselves for what’s to come.  We have learned that he is not a threat to be taken lightly.  Many of us never expected him to be taken seriously when he first threw his hat in the ring, and look where we are now.  We can’t make the same mistake this time. 

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It’s all just an experiment, isn’t it?

All my life is circular, I think.  I look at situations and think ‘I’ve been here before, almost’.  My massage instructor suggested that time is circular as well as linear- sort of a spiral stretched out on a line.  That makes absolute sense to me.  Like I have to check the lessons I’ve learned, then go back and check what else can be gleaned from the situation (or a similar one).  Maybe check back once or twice over the course of 10 or so years, in case I’ve missed anything.  I was looking at old pictures a bit today.  They’re from when my brother was 4 or 5 and I had just got a camera so I was taking pictures of everything (remember that?  The magick of point and shoot and capture that fuzzy moment forever?)  He was playing in our little pool on the concrete driveway, grinning.  In others he’s looking furious- these are group shots of all of us at Graceland, my graduation, other family group shots.  Always standing apart, or glowering, or both.  My little brother.

 

He’s in jail at this moment.  Clean and sober, not by choice but by circumstance.  He writes to me:  ‘Sissy, I can think so clearly now without the drugs in my body.’  ‘Sis, I can’t believe I got so bad.  I’m scared to get out.  How will I live?’

 

My brother is a heroin addict.  So is my sister.

 

I tell people this regularly.  Not to gain sympathy or notoriety or anything else, but because this needs discussion.  It needs to be heard and spoken and acknowledged.  People need to understand that even if you have all your shit together it doesn’t mean you can’t be affected by heroin.  Or cocaine (that was my birth mother).  Or prescription drugs (my aunt).  Or alcoholism (the list is too long).  The thing is, I’m the only sibling who learned anything from having an addict raise us.  I’m apparently the only one who got lucky enough to break the traditions.  And it was luck, make no mistake.  I was well on my way to pickling myself while I went tripping every weekend when one night I just…. didn’t want it.

 

Luck.  Or maybe the Universe tapping my soul?  Maybe it was my soul’s plan to be the sober support person this time around?  I’d like to offer you all the suggestion that being the clean, clear-sighted one is plenty frustrating.  I get to watch my family go down in flames, offering helpful suggestions the whole time.  I love my family, and I can’t fix them.

 

I’ve come to terms with all this (most days).  What I still struggle with is this:  the birth mother?  That we all share?  Saw it all coming down.  Allowed them to shoot up in her home.  And did nothing.  Nothing.  NOTHING.  I don’t even have words for how this makes me feel.  Fury.  Heartbreak.  Tired.  Disappointed.  Sad.  Is there a single word to convey all that and everything else I have trouble naming?  I haven’t spoken with her in something like 7 years, since she told me to get out of her life (I was ever the obedient one).  Funny though, we only live 3 blocks apart.  She could have sent a message by carrier pigeon or neighbour or in the everloving POST for chrissakes letting me know what was going on.  How does a mother just sit back and watch her youngest children destroy themselves and their lives?

 

Nevermind.  It’s a rhetorical question.  I know the answer (in this case).  It’s because she has her own demons.  Because she’s lost too.  And I can’t help her either.  So I stay away.  Protect my tiny family.  Try to model healthy behaviour for Monkey (who will be driving soon).  Try to teach him to be strong and safe and sensible before he heads out into the world on his own.  Try to offer good advice to my brother in our weekly letters.  I tell him I love him in each one.  I try to remind him that he is more than his addiction and mistakes.  That he can plan to do better and follow through.  That he can be a better father to his kids.  That he has to take care of himself.

 

All these things I’ve told myself in the past, at other moments.  All this ground that I’ve almost already covered.

 

Life is a spiral, stretching forward and back.  Allowing us to touch multiple moments in time with one hand.  Sometimes it’s just so damn hard.


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“Heard you comin’ up the gravel road…

…I could tell it was you by the weight of the load.*”

 

Wow, I reckon it’s been a bit since I wrote here last…. Everything’s all fancy and redone.  Alrighty then. 

 

Things have been… strenuous lately.  Not in the lifting heavy things and shifting them around the place way, but more in the sloggingthroughwhatever-that-is-ohitdoesn’tsmellverypleasantdoesit? kind of way.  Let’s be honest.  February sucked so hard it’s inside out.  Not just for me either- that would be comparatively easy.  It’s watching everyone else slog that poses more trouble for me.  For instance:

~A family member revealed that he’s a long time heroin user and wants to stop.  (As I type this, this song started playing- the universe DOES, in fact, have a crafty sense of humour.  Or something.)

~Several friends having money issues in such a way as to jeapordise current operations.

~Another friend’s husband shipped out for Afghanistan

~Another friend’s mother has ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease– which is fucking awful.  “painless, non-contagious and cruel — the motor function of the central nervous system is destroyed but the mind remains fully aware to the end.”  To be filed under “I’d rather drink Hemlock- same effect, more glamour.”  Fuckall.)

~misc other similar issues happening to EVERYONE AT ONCE

And to ice the cake::

~Bear had to go to hospital for appendicitis (which we didn’t know he was having because the pain went away- which apparently means IT RUPTURED, but because his body is FUCKING AMAZING he did NOT get peritonitis because there was an abscess with all the toxins neatly collected within.)

 

Deep breath. 

 

So, yeah.  Fuck February.  Like, all the way. 

 

March is better so far, and I fully intend for things to continue in a better direction.  Dealing with my addicted family member- henceforth referred to as Flash- has been trying at times.  I have to keep reminding myself I can’t fix him.  I can’t solve his (multitude of self inflicted) problems.  This is his fire to walk through.  All I can do is remind him he can do it.  I gave him the old saying ‘I can eat an elephant if I take small bites’.  I remind him to take one thing at a time.  I remind him I love him, and that he can do this.  He has such a long, potholed road before him. 

 

Classes have been good.  They are a touchstone for me- my classmates have such a positive, kind, supportive attitude overall.  How lucky I am to be learning healing arts with such a marvellous group.  The material is getting more difficult, which means I have to take my study time more seriously.  Which is a good thing.  I’m still trying to figure out what my post licensing plan is.  I’m loving the healer-bodyworker concept, but I live in the land of conservative which makes marketing a rubic’s cube to figure out.  Good thing I have a marketing madman to ask about these things. 

I gave the first massage I’m not pleased with over the weekend, though.  A learning experience, and the client didn’t seem to know the difference, but I did and it’s definitely something for me to process and improve on.  I have a pretty good idea of where and what my problem was- just need to be sure I don’t allow it to happen again.  I wasn’t focused, and so I went through the motions but there was no energy flow of note.  Not that I have to be in charge of every little thing, but my goal is to facilitate movement and improved flow of energy.  I’m a conduit.  If I’m distracted, I’m disconnected and therefore Not a conduit, but rather, a cut wire.  That is not what I’m going for.  A lesson, and one I don’t plan to repeat. 

 

Bear’s tattoo enterprise is coming along.  Had him work on me for the first time last night.  He was nervous as hell, but still did well.  Just a small one, an easy one.  Something to ease him into working on me.  I have more planned and I look forward to him gaining the skills to complete my plans (mwahahahaha).  He’s recovering well from surgery, although he lost almost 20 pounds over the week he wasn’t feeling well- mostly muscle mass- which has caused him a bit of difficulty.  He literally has to get his strength back.  Having him in hospital was so very scary.  I coped really well when the shit was in the fan.  A couple weeks after is when I had my meltdown.  There’s nothing like seeing the person you love most in the universe lying helpless in a hospital bed to reality check you on what you would do if you had to do it alone.  Not something I ever want to experience again.  Told Bear he better stay healthy from here on out, and that I would do the same. 

 

Sometimes it’s a wonder to me that we are here at all, let alone that we find others to love and be happy with.  How lucky we are to have such magick in our lives.  The joy and fear and sorrow and everything of love and being connected to those we love.  Astounding, really, that some can get by for so long without it.  It’s worth it to remember that everyone is fighting valiantly some battle or other, and be kinder for that remembrance.  Even on days when the weight of air on your skin tries your patience.  

Be good to you.  Be good to one another. 

Cheers. 

 

 

*Dust and Bones by Cary Ann Hearst


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Recent lessons

It’s been some time since I even gave a thought to blogging.  Or writing of any kind.  Needless to say, my brain is a jumble of nonsense and the important and everything in between.  I know writing is good for me, helps to sort out all the dross and cobwebs…. I just… forget sometimes that I have to actually DO it.  Or get preoccupied with whatever is happening in the moment.  I have blog envy for those folks who do write consistently.  Even if it’s only every 3 months, they’re like Old Faithful.  Heh. 

 

So.  Life. 

 

I’m starting massage school in the Fall.  It’ll be 20 months of intense learning (hands on and book) and then I’ll be certified in all sorts of massage types.  I’m looking forward to it and keeping fingers crossed that I can retain all that info.  Saw examples of my course books and they look pretty hardcore.  Bear and boy are fully behind me and aware that I’ll only be half here a lot of the time for that 20 months.  They’re making a plan.  I love that they’re making a plan.  I am also in the beginning stages of making a plan, but got slightly derailed by a…..

Pulled Calf Muscle!!!!!

 

Can we all say ‘No Fun At All’? 

 

See, part of the plan (that got slightly derailed) was ‘be more fit’ and it involved strengthening my cardio system (because I was panting after going up 10 steps, or something).  So my friend Irish says ‘you should try the Insanity workout, it’s fucking ridiculously tough, but I’m seeing great results.  And I says to meself, I can do tough- I’m not afraid to modify the workout to fit my needs.  I’ve got this.  And I did. 

For 4 days. 

I modified the workout.  It was still, in fact, Fucking Ridiculously Tough- even modified (that was the point after all).  I forgot to also modify the recovery days.  So when my calves were SORE (like stairs make you cringe because you not only look like a goober but it hurts going down them) for 2 days I thought ‘I’ll take a day off Insanity and just walk today and get back to it tomorrow’. 

 

Did you catch the foolishness in that last sentence??  I did.  The next day.  During warm up.  Mummy kicks (which I found to be one of the easier exercises, ironically).  And as I’m doing mummy kicks I abruptly hear ‘POP’ from my right calf.  fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

 

This happened on Tuesday morning.  I was supposed to perform at my Halau’s luau on the second Saturday following.  Can we all say ‘Disappointed as FUCK’?  Oh, by the way?  I couldn’t drive either, the first week and a half.  So I had to seek out a ride to everything.  Which made me feel like a total pain in the ass.  I have a whole new appreciation for those who are injured/handicapped and have to ask others for help, and also for people who have to hobble along.  Be nice to them, they are probably Very Annoyed by their lack of speed and are highly aware that everyone around them can move at the speed of light and has to wait on their pokey hobbling ass.  At least, I have been. 

Anyway. 

Luau came off well, and in the end I was terribly disappointed I couldn’t dance (so no surprises there)- but I did chant and drum, and that was FAB.  And I’m healing.  It’s been 3ish weeks and I can begin to seriously consider that I might walk normally soon.  Ish.  I can stretch it, gently.  I can drive (which is a MAJOR WIN).  I feel less helpless.  That’s a pretty major win too.  I don’t do helpless, it makes me cranky and mean.  This is good to know for future reference and as a flaw I need to work on, but finding out has sucked for all involved.  I’m pretty sure Monkey wanted to stuff me in a closet and leave me to my own devices more than once, since he’s been the one around me most during this.  Bear is working 2d shift now, so he’s out of it during the day.  I’m getting better, though.  And being nicer (my inner editor has her work cut out for her). 

 

I’m resuscitating the plan and altering it and giving myself recovery time (even though I’m antsy to be done recovering).  Just means I have to start in a different place and maybe at a slower pace than the original plan called for. 


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Do not engage the crazy people

So, as it turns out, there IS enough crazy in the world to go around.  And here I was worried there wasn’t.*  My friend’s ex is nuts.  And, apparently, a hacker of sorts.  Or an identity thief.   Not quite sure which.  Either way, he’s fucked for the foreseeable future.  I posted a comment on something he said on a social net site and got responses from her under his name. 

 

Uh….

 

First:  yes, I do think she’s a bitch.  Regardless of what she says happened. 

Second:  I don’t care what she wants to send me- winning lotto numbers, naked pics of Sean Connery at his pinnacle, fortune telling secrets of the mystics.  She’s not getting my email address. 

Third:  I’m pissed because I felt like, for my own peice of mind (and safety) I had to unfriendthingy him.

 

This person’s reach has just extended entirely too far.  Bitch.  I get that some people thrive on drama.  I, however, do not and have taken several measures to ensure that I have as little as possible.  Sadly, drama is occasionally unavoidable and (like now) I have to put on my shitkickers and deal with it.  Ok.  Fine.  Whatever.  My friend doesn’t get to move away from the drama, I guess, because he had the misfortune to Love this person enough to marry her.  Even though he has been quite amicable in the divorce, she’s still harassing him.  I’m angry and sad on his behalf and I can’t help him because I’m not rich enough to afford a shark lawyer.  Even if I was, he probably wouldn’t let me help him that way. 

 

*eyes rolling practically out of my head

 


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All that you build will probably fall someday, then you’ll be left with only polaroids*…..

So, Bear went (over the mountain haha) camping this past weekend.  Started out well, and turned into a monkeyfuck at the end.  While the behaviour of Booze is not surprising (but is, assuredly, a continuance of his asshattery), I am sadly shocked by the Remarkably Bad behaviour of the Clown.  Under normal circumstances the Clown is a pretty mellow fellow.  Sure, he may overdo the drink now and again and get a bit weebly- but by the sound of it this was far and away worse.  Even Devilboy was appalled, and he’s a bona-fied, certifi(able) true Punk.  A man who has gone merrily about his hometown causing chaos and havoc when and wherever possible.  The weekend ended with Bear, Boxer, and the others herding Booze down the path while he alternately “had seizures” and cried.  Cried.  Not because he was actually having seizures, but because he just didn’t want to GET OFF HIS ASS.  And also, crying draws a lot of attention.  The Clown, however, woke up (after a night of SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS ALL NIGHT) too late for breakfast, packed his shit up and promptly stomped out of camp.  Which is whatever.  The best part of this whole thing is:  He left altogether.  Now, if this was a place that was right up the road from home (or, like, TOWN) ok.  Fine.  But, it’s not.  It’s, like, 3 HOURS from home.  Town is a bit of a drive as well. 

 

Can you say “Douchecanoe”?

 

Who the fuck goes out to the boonies to camp with friends (ahem ‘friends?’) and then just abandons ship when one of them is having issues (to put it mildly), leaving the others to clean up the mess THAT HE HELPED CAUSE?  Fucking Seriously!?  You’re gonna egg Booze on into getting well past shitfaced, and get equally trashed yourself and then just… leave? 

 

You chickenshit motherfucker.

 

Just to ice that cake:

At the halfway point Bear decided to let the others stop (herding a blubbering whiner who is repeatedly telling you he’s having seizures is Hard Work) and run the rest of the trail to the car.  The idea being that if road to the trail leading to the halfway point was open he could just bring the car to them and save quite a bit of trouble and stress.  So, he heads down the way (not a long trail- think he said it was about a mile and half to the lot at that point) gets to the lot and meets there with Devilboy (who has taken the kayak so that Bear could deal with Booze) who tells him the Clown just walked away and got into his car- at which point Bear sees the Clown heading toward the lot exit, sprints toward him (trying to figure out WTF) shouting, and the Clown just ignores him and leaves.  Based on my (admittedly very limited) knowledge of Bear’s description- the Clown couldn’t have missed him.  Unless he’s blind in one eye.  Um….Seriously????

 

Booze apologised (profusely) for ruining the trip.  He won’t be camping with Bear again, though.  Bear’s over that shit and I told him that if Booze so much as calls the house and I get it he’s in for a world of fire and ire.  I’m done with that fucker.  This is not by a long shot the first time Booze has pulled some shit like this.  I’m over it.  There’s more to this story, but the (slightly) short version is that in addition to all the stress and aggravation, Bear could have gotten physically injured trying to take care of Booze’s sorry ass.  All because he has no self control. 

 

In the end, they all got home ok.  Booze went to hospital to get his ‘seizures’ checked.  Turns out he was having convulsions because he’d mixed various drugs and alcohol with the heart and antipsychotic meds he’s on.  Gee, that’s a shock.  I had no idea he was even supposed to be on anything like that (although it doesn’t come as any great shock). 

 

Bear tried to find out WTF from the Clown and all he said was that he was pissy because he missed breakfast.  No apology for his shitty behaviour.  No comment to the effect of ‘is everyone else ok’.  Zip. 

For the record, this is totally unexpected behaviour from the Clown.  I was blown away.  Bear was too, come to that.  Now we’re both trying to figure out why he acted like that and still hasn’t touched base to say Anything- let alone something to the effect of ‘sorry I was an ass’.  Maybe he’s embarrassed?  He should be.  What if it was a major problem Bear was trying to get his attention for?  Why would you just take off and leave your mates like that unless you knew you’d been a shit and were too embarrassed to face it?

 

I know it’s hard to face some things, but not doing it could really fuck things up.  Sometimes all it takes is an apology to patch things up…

 

Anyway.  I’m glad Bear’s home.  I always miss him terribly when he’s gone.  He’s doing 60 hours a week consistently now, so I miss him terribly anyway- but at least I know he’s nearby.  I told him he should have a do-over Spring camp.  Just take the fellas who can keep it together and to hell with the others.  We’ll see. 

This whole experience has been a big reminder to me.  It’s easy to fuck up, we all do it.  It’s hard to own up to fucking up and apologise for it, but it needs to be done.  If you don’t, those things become big festering sores on the face of friendships leaving your friends to trust you less, respect you less, want to be around you less.  Forgiving fuckups can be equally difficult- especially when the person in question Won’t own up and apologise.  Ooooh.  That’s so much more difficult for me than apologising.  Something for me to work on there. 

 

 

 

*from the song The Coffee Beanery by Casey Dienel