so i am here in ny with the knowledge that i should be crafting a dope plan to move across country. unfortunately, i think i am experiencing a sort of detachment depression! lifted some-much cuz i had a fabulous visit with my mom, and one post soon will be a photo journal on our shopping excursions!
but back to my severe DD….i think its official, i got the DD!
how do i know you might ask?
10. can’t seem to pack anything now that i have taken some decorations down. i love this little room!
9. don’t want to respond to any questions related to when or how i am leaving
8. no desire to go out to ny parties full of people i know, because that will jsut remind me i am leaving them
7. tired all the time but can’t sleep very well
6. have this itch all over me that won’t go away, just moves from spot to spot randomly. my therapist says its psychosematic. i concede: i DO feel like a psycho scratching all day!
5. i’m having my overwhelmed-by-issues moments. this occasionally (spelling?) happens to me…since i regularly valiantly and somewhat self-righteously contend with what is happening in the world, its a constant risk that at some point all the battles to be fought make me think the war can’t be won…then i think – why such violent metaphors? deprogramming starts inside! then i say om and levitate. its a cycle…
4. all i want to read is maxim, us weekly and people. still no respite. in the (feminine) folds of an old maxim i ganked from my sister’s bathroom (don’t ask) i found a devastating story about young veterans facing depression and homelessness upon return. maxim gets it…the blip of consciousness between nekkid ladies…luckily in two pages i found ‘100 things you should know about women" (a piece which infuriated me, cause it proved that men know all the shit that makes us mad and still act a fool.)
3. i feel like i should avoid, rather than engage, with the people i love. this harkens back to an old habit of mine…if i suspect someone might really adore me i want to push the emergency stop button on depth. i feel like i should macy gray-ify a dress and have it say – "permastop: freezing devotion in its tracks since 1978". my latest theory in brokeback lingo: i am so much more heath than jake. who knew?
2. i keep saying i’m almost 30, which i think sparks from the sense that this next stage of life is locked in for at least three years. the funny thing is, objectively, i am so amped for this next stage. this is just the pre-awesome grieving process for my dark years perhaps…
1. the song ‘breaking up is hard to do’ keeps playing in my head. to leave new york, once you have lived here twice as long as anywhere else in your life; and/or you fell in love with it at age 9, is much like a break up. you have to start to see the ugliness, the imperfections, the way it doesn’t really listen or support you like you need, the walls it leaves intact in your independent heart, its silly overt style and desperate vying for attention. it could work out down the road but we both need to mature a little…
there’s a minimum of 5 parties i committed to rolling through this evening, pero i am wearing my house dress through a headache and not budging. its times like these that i curse star trek for introducing me to the idea of beaming particles. i know from whence cometh my pain…if i can’t beam into the next phase of my life then how the hell do i get there?
on the other hand!
what does get me fired up right now is any opportunity to work. perhaps i am entering the celestine benedictine monk/nun part of my life…i’m revelling in this experience with self-induced near celibacy (can you be celibate AND have an orgasm a day?).
i am getting good at no! no. no. no means no. whats nice is noticing how often i get to say no…oh the reluctant mack/playa/party-attendee…where were you seducers when i was panhandling for charity compliments? everything about how you interact with people when you withdraw your flirtatious gaming self is different.
tomorrow i am going to the anti-war march. i am not normally a fan of marches but any show of opposition to the current occupations strikes me as absolutely necessary…just as, though i am not into money, i can see myself doing finance and development work for the ruckus society because any show of people in protest right now is the only response to the world i really understand, and i will support in any way possible.
ah – the travelin itch has ceased – let me get to bed before it reappears on my ankle or elbow or wherever. its either psycho, or from getting hella dry and cold in colorado…the answer is in that scientific realm of dermatologist anatomy, and that, dear readers, is a realm in which i tread with the trepidation of a guesser. i prefer self diagnosis, the possibilities there are endless!
nighty night!