Sunday, November 27, 2011


So how many weeks has it been since my ass was dumped and my heart ripped out? Two? Three? The days are all blurring into one and I can't really keep track. Plus this long vacation threw me off of thinking in terms of a calendar. Nonetheless, here I am.

Here I am.

I'm kind of miserable. Maybe I shouldn't share that. He probably still reads this thing and that would seem pathetic or something I'm sure. Wouldn't want to show our true feelings, would we? That would be playing it all wrong, right? Blech. I've never been one for playing by the rules. Rules schmules. They don't suit my brand of crazy.

So here I am. Breaking the rules. Sharing my misery.

Doesn't help that right now I have the hangover from hell and so am feeling especially shitty.

And that's just it. Most of the time, I'm okay. I feel good. I find things that make me happy. Keeping busy helps a ton. But in the quiet moments or when I feel down for some reason or another, the sadness creeps in and I lose it.

I think the hardest right now is thinking that he's so happy without me and I'm here all alone again, left behind. I think I'd feel better if I knew he was sad too.

And at the end of the day, I know it's for the better. I do know that. It's just been hard.

So naturally I've been doing a lot of thinking about myself and all my relationships and how I keep finding myself here. I feel like I want to hope for the future, but if something doesn't change, what little hope I have left is not going to cut it.



This is really hard to write. To accept culpability for being left over and over again. To find what I've been doing to make that happen. And I think it's this: I am alone.

Think about that for a second.

I am alone. Alone is my default. It's my true self as I know it. 

I learned a little psychology lesson recently in a random setting, but hit me as really poignant. I'm gonna get this wrong, but I think I have the idea right at any rate. There is a part of your subconscious that believes you are a certain way and so we repeat patterns to make that true. The brain is just that powerful. Even if circumstances change, we sabotage them to keep those "truths." Make sense?

How does this apply to me? Well, I've always been an independent girl. Apparently my foster mom said she'd never met such an independent baby and I was very cautious with affection as a child. As an adult, in relationships, I've done one of two things. In my early twenties, if things got scary, I'd just leave (peace the fuck out, yo). The latter part of my dating life, if I suspected my boyfriend was puling away, I would too. Instead of fighting for a relationship (and it's not like I'd leave, but I'll get to that later), I'd just pull back, convinced (rationalizing) that if he really loved me then he'd make the effort. Fighting is just too scary. Too risky.

Yet I don't fight and I get left anyhow.

So back to my orginal point, I think this is in part because I'm adopted. It's not necessarily the fear of abandonment (though that's a part of it for sure), it's that I came into this world alone and I've always taken care of myself and I think I truly believe deep down that that's how I'll always be. Alone.

And so I make it so. Not consciously of course. And I'm not happy about it. But I do it nonetheless.

Of course I don't want to keep it that way. I want to be all-in in a relationship.

Not that my heart isn't all in. It is. It was. And that's partly why I'm sad, because my heart is pretty broken still.

But I clearly hold myself back and don't fight for what I want and need.

I also think maybe I'm choosing people who reaffirm this belief.  People who will ultimately keep me in that state of alone.

So I need to make some changes. Change my thinking. Change my self-perception. Change what truths I know about myself. I'm not entirely sure how to do that yet, but I think figuring this shit out is the first step.

I'm supposed to have coffee next week with another ex, one I'm so glad I stayed close(ish) with and whose perspective I can't wait to pull out of him, whether he likes it or not.

Then, since I haven't started therapy again yet (partly because wading through the HMO red tape is its own psychological hell), I think I'm going to recruit all my friends to have mini sessions with me. At least I can get talking and analyzing again.

And of course there's you, dear readers, dear friends, dear kiddos, you who are always here reading no matter how little I write or how crazy I get. I plan on using you people a lot. I'm not going to hold back here. I know you probably don't think I do, but I do hold back. I do censor the blog a bit. So I'm really going to be brutal on myself and let you help me through this process.

As my cousin told me just now, I'm not really alone. Not really.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Photo of the Day: Sparkly Black Friday

I've always hated Black Friday, but for more selsfish reasons that opposing the gluttony and consumerism of the US (which I do, I guess). Because of my many years in retail, and thus working many, many Black Fridays (the most stressful day of retail, after of course working in a bookstore on the day a Harry Potter book came out), I refuse to go in any store on the day after Thanksgiving. Refuse.

So how did I spend my day instead? I went on a run. Then, because the day was so gorgeous and I felt so good, I hiked (and took some amazing photos.). Afterwhich, I had some yummy leftovers, edited film, and as of right now I am parked in front of a fireplace, watching Indiana Jones movies on a large screen TV. THIS is how to spend a day, people.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Photo of the Day: Leaf on a Windowsill

This little guy somehow made it into my apartment, up the stairs, and onto my bedroom windowsill, where it made me smile. I don't love Thanksgiving, but I do love Fall...and the little things that bring joy.

Monday, November 21, 2011


So I just read this book, The Dream Manager (which, whether you read it for work or for yourself, you should so check out), and at the end, you get to make your own dream list (makes sense if you read the book). And, I couldn't help sharing mine.

This couldn't have come at a better time. I've been in so much upheaval that it was so great to sit back, reevaluate, and figure out what's important. It's a work in progress of course and will morph over time. Some are short term dreams and some life-long. I'm sure some dreams will become less important as new ones come along.

In no particular order, just as they popped out of my head:
  • Take a weekly dance class
  • Be a professional writer/photographer 
    • art show
    • sell pieces
    • photo sessions
    • freelance articles
    • book deal(s)
  • Plant roots:
    • Healthy relationship
    • Family
    • Have kids/adopt
    • House where I can garden and paint with space for my art
      • in a neighborhood where I can walk and take photos, with coffee shops, etc.
  • Pay off student loans
  • Speak French again and then learn a 3rd language
  • Leave country once a year
    • Top places
      • Back to Paris
      • Peru
      • Greece
      • Turkey
      • Bali
      • Egypt
      • Thailand
  •  Get accupuncture
  • Learn to bake
  • Get back to New Orleans to build
  • Start therapy again
  • Get my dad to visit Portland
  • Get a masters degree (maybe in Creative Writing?)
  • Take graphic design classes
  • Some kind of art/craft class
    • pottery 
    • sewing
    • knitting
To be continued....

Now tell me your dreams.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

one week later and I'm alright

On the upside, if there's anything I'm pro at, it's breaking up. I've done this A LOT. A lot a lot a lot. There are rarely any surprises anymore when it comes to how I'll deal. I know just how to get through. I've got my playlist, my books, my breakup buddies. I know just what happens at each stage (though duration varies, naturally).

Unlike my last hard breakup, where I didn't eat much for two weeks and threw up most of what I did (which was scary because I didn't really have the weight to lose), I only did the starvy-barfy thing for like 2 days this time. But add to that,  as I was leaving to go see a friend Monday night, I slammed my thumb in the car door and decided to get cozy with an ice pack for two days (I think the ice pack and I are now legally married in at least 3 states.). The horrid pain and fear of losing my thumb nail was both sufficiently distracting and sort of a when-it-rains-it-fucking-pours deal.

Yet by Wednesday, at a record breaking pace, I was already leaving behind the shocked, rejected, pathetically sad phase and entering the oh so delicious angry phase. This is my favorite phase because it's where you can first start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Getting that what the holy mother fuck feeling is the first taste of perspective. And what the fuck indeed.

Once that starts, my appetite returns and thus begins the shopping, the getting done of the nails, the joining of the gym, the considering of the cutting of the bangs (should I?), and the feeling sparkly and attractive again. Not that I wasn't sparkly and attractive pre-break-up, but there's something about a little pampering to remember that.

By Thursday, all my friends and coworkers were conspiring to hook me up with as many guys as can make up a pro football team and by Friday, I was feeling alright.

I have to say, I'm okay. The hardest part has been missing his damn presence in my life. Little things, like a text or talking. And then Saturday morning, I was half awake and went to curl up to someone who just wasn't in my bed. That was hard.

We spent 6 months in a relationship and how does a friendship not come out of that? Fact is..he was a friend, one of my best friends, and I've never been one to understand why I should lose a friendship because a relationship dies. Some of my great friends are exes and they have perspectives about me no one else does and I like that.

So we'll see.

I saw him for the first time last night at our bar (which neither of us will give up. which is just fine.) and it was okay. Weird and slightly sad, but okay.

My friends have been incredible and I couldn't ask for more support and love. It can be exhausting, growing older in relationship after relationship. And when you find yourself at the end of yet another, it's invaluable to have an army of people reminding you of your value and worth.

I am still a little sad. I am. I'll be okay. I am okay. But like any wound, it will take some time for the bruising to subside. My heart is bruised, but it will recover.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Same old song

And then I got dumped.

Yet again.

How did I even find myself here?

How is it that all of my friends love and appreciate me but no romantic partner ever has?

I suspect it's for the best. But right now I just feel unappreciated. And stupid.



I've still been struggling. I know it's not been long, but impatience is the hardest part of finding yourself again. I've been making baby steps, trying to do some things I love, find some creative "me" time, but it's slow going. As is probably normal. But this liminal space, this weird middle place where I know what I want but can't quite get there, is really damned hard.

And subsequently, I feel kind of manic. One minute, I'm all over this shit, then the next I'm sad and lost and weepy. If I had periods, I'd think I was hormonal, but I think I'm just figuring shit out and it's fucking hard. Though I do know the path to finding oneself is never easy; I just thought I'd figured a bunch of this shit out already, so I'm kind of resentful. How did I let myself get here?


Not that it's entirely my fault per se. Life happens yo. And I've had some major life changes this year. Something was bound to give, but I was less that diligent about holding on to my passions.  We all make adjustments. So I'm in the place now of trying to figure out what I can integrate back in and what I can just set aside for the time being.

Anywayyyy, the other day, my bestie Lynnette and I made our way to Hoyt Arboretum here in Portland and had a blast tromping through the woods, taking a million photos and freezing our asses off. I really needed that and some of my shots came out fucking awesome, which is incredibly satisfying.


Then I had a low moment again that night (like I said, manic) and my practically big sister Lori (probably one of the most supportive and wisest women I know) made me promise to write once a week and take photos once a week. I'm going to do my damndest to do just that and I'm putting it here in the hopes of feeling some commitment to it. That is, more than just because it's good for me. Because, I haven't been good at doing what's good for me, so clearly I need some forcing until it's second nature again.

I've said many times, especially when I'm at my most blissful or satisfied, that happiness doesn't find you. You have to chase it, seek it out, choose it. So it's no wonder that when I stopped chasing my bliss, I lost it.


So it may be a long road, but I'll find it again, dammit! Right now, I'm in a coffee shop, sipping tea, writing, and editing film. Finally doing something I used to absolutely love. And it feels good. Really good.

I've always love fall, autumn. The change, the crisp energy crackling in the air. So I think it's appropriate that this is when I find my change.

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