Life

Airplanes and airports, that is.

Let's see if I can remember it all.

I was supposed to take a flight w/ my sister at some new-fangled airport where they moved you through an automated conveyor belt thing. The conveyor belt would be interrupted by doors which would close and you got separated from the people you were traveling with sometimes. I was still packing my bags while trying to catch the flight and I had too many. The bags got away from me anyway and headed for the plane. I missed the plane and my bags went without me. My sister (who wasn't really a likeness of her but was supposed to be her....you know how that dream thing works) stayed back because she knew I missed the plane even though we had been separated. I stayed in the airport and there were these large painted canvases attached to the ceiling and they were moving towards us fast enough to have a fanning effect.

Then, I gave up on catching the flight and went to a place in the airport where I could gamble to win someone else's bag and whatever money was inside. I won some guy's bag w/ his wallet, id, porn fliers and escort cards (like in vegas that advertise specific girls you can "order"), along w/ some of those valentine sweetheart candies that had bizarre messages on them I couldn't understand, and some were coated in ecstacy powder and the others were dipped in LSD. He didn't have that much money but it became clear he had committed some kind of crime, or was mob-involved or something, so I took the money and threw away all the rest of his stuff in a big dumpster.

At what point will I feel at ease with my life? I think I did, or have, at various points. I feel like I am on a somewhat endless journey towards a destination which may or may not hold my destiny. I am drinking green tea, hoping that will help this uneasy feeling. It is not even uneasiness, really, but uncertainty. I never get used to it. I woke up this morning totally groggy and asking K, "Why doesn't this ever get any easier?" I know that I enjoy the work that I do, but I literally cannot function in the mornings. I know that some people say that, but I really really do not have a sense of self, purpose, or ability to attend to necessary tasks until about 10:30 am. I have fucking Depression. For years I have tried to will it away, ignore it or otherwise insult it out of myself. I have stood by while others who don't understand would lament that I couldn't muster the circus-freak or trained-seal caliber of "happiness" to which they were accustomed. I have pain inside me. It is just there, and it is fine. It is part of me but it does not define me. It doesn't make excuses for me, so I will not do so for It. Depression and Anxiety, you are with me, and I accept that.

I am happy because I have Monday off. And, just about to mark 4 years with my love, Jul. 1st. I never realized how necessary weekends are until I started counseling people, i.e. a time when I am officially Off-Duty. This is carrying over into a gentle shift in the entire way I live my life. How something like that can be gentle, I don't know, but it is somehow. I am so glad to have the safe haven of my home and my love and my quirky dog and other pets. Taking care of pets is a good stress-reliever. Now to find more helping-profession-familiars of the human variety.

I'm embarking on a couple new clients with whom I am excited to be working.

Last night I heard the second person in the history of my life who said "Barg's" instead of "Barq's" root beer. Outstanding! It was a Wendy's chocolate frosty shake sort of evening.

I have grown tired of smelling smoke from all the fires but it has to drift somewhere just like every other chemical reaction in the world. Deep breaths are a little difficult.

I'm welcoming in more writing influence/energy/flow. It is to the point where I think of things to write while driving. If I have to pull over and write it down to not forget it before I reach my destination, so be it.

I am nervous and wound tightly when I'm in large cities. I used to think this was something I would get over, but I am now comforted by the fact that I know these aspects of myself and I have stopped trying to force myself to change. I now know I can live a full and rich life without riding roller coasters and without spending long periods of time in large metropolitan areas. I went to SF last weekend. The spa visit and massage were lovely, the company was lovely, but as soon as I found myself on the unforgiving streets talking to an unforgiving cab dispatcher, I couldn't wait to get back to Santa Cruz. Then a couple nights ago I watched The Bridge, which devastated me while at the same time giving me a calming sense of not being the only one who can't always deal with the sensory overloads of our world. I had a conversation with a dear friend about the structure of society and how we train people from infancy through adulthood how to be in the world. Mostly, we talked about how it often doesn't matter what an individual needs (or doesn't need) to live and thrive; in this (or maybe any) society, the point is to keep the machine running smoothly. This means that many, many people are damaged by the breakneck pace of the machine or are thrown clear of it entirely.