therapist dude made me laugh today.

E's first day of 3rd grade.
he was apprehensive.
he did not want to go.
but he did.
wearing his cons.
right on.
one of the hardest things is what has been taken from the boys.
james was not there today.
and E wanted him to be.
therapist dude told me i'm shitty at accepting a compliment.
uh...fucking duh!
then he laughed and said, 'you know, i don't cuss at all my patients.'
which made me laugh.
then he said, 'i'm going to pretend to be you. only i don't have a fucking sailor mouth so i'll leave out all the bad words.'
which made me laugh again.
he told me i am making things happen.
he says i make it look effortless and he is amazed by that.
that surprised me (the make it look effortless part).
because i feel like i don't know what the hell i am doing.
i am full of self-fucking doubt.
there is too much i don't know about selling a house.
buying a house.
having a house built...what i should and shouldn't do in that regard.
what's best for resale vs. what's best for our needs at this time.
he told me to try to see it from his perspective.
feeling guilt about moving is something i did not anticipate.
and it is totally pissing me off.
therapist dude says that guilt is unwarranted. misplaced. misguided.
he says i am dealing with the aftermath and doing what i think is best for me and the boys.
honestly (and i've been thinking a lot about this)....
i think i am afraid to not feel guilty.
because if i don't feel guilty it will be almost like admitting i am able to go on with my life.
maybe more that i WANT to go on with my life.
and i do.
i just really didn't anticipate how it would feel to do it.
it wasn't my choice....but i am now able to picture something without james.
that just makes me feel bad.
not much sleep in the last few days.
quick trip to astoria over the weekend.....
i'll talk more about that later.
right now i am tired.
and i'm going to bed soon.

can't stop listening to DMB.

there was something about james.
when i met him.
how we just went together.
belonged together.
we just sort of met, and never left each other.
i believe what james and i had, not many people find.
was it perfect? of course not.
but what we had, i really truly believe it's rare.
i still wonder if i will ever come out the other side of this.
i mean, i know i will....but will i ever be anything close to the person i used to be?
after i began to realize and understand what had actually happened.....
literally for weeks i was sick to my stomach. no. make that months. my body was cold.
i would throw up. my body would shake and shake....it is as close as i have ever come to complete and total breakdown.
that still happens to me.
there are still times when i am so sick to my stomach, that i can't eat. my body shakes and just won't stop.
there are other times.
when i feel like i'm beginning to figure some things out.
i begin to feel a little bit of excitement about a decision i've made.
about where we're going to live.
and yes, i know deep in my heart james would want me to be happy.
he would want me to move.
that's not the issue.
the issue is the guilt i am beginning to feel about moving on with my life.
moving on just doesn't feel right.
i have a huge mother fucking hole in my life.
i think unless you have experienced what i have (and am lucky to have had in my life), then you can't truly understand what i have lost.
even though james was sick for 10 years, we were still us. we lived our lives the way we wanted. except for the physical stuff james couldn't do (fly, climb, hike)....
during that 10 years our lives changed yet i still understood how lucky i was.
i can't imagine not having met james and having him in my life.
i have not stopped loving james. that will never happen.
a few months after he died i did things.
things i shouldn't have done.
and felt no guilt over them.
it was me blindly trying not to feel so empty.
trying to focus on something...anything...else.
so why is it now i feel so much guilt about trying to move on with my life.
that is something i SHOULD be doing.
something to discuss with theraist dude i am sure.
i spend so much time trying NOT to think about james, sometimes when i do let myself think about him, it's almost shocking. it feels overwhelming. and that is a minor fucking understatement.
i think therapist dude was right.
the more action i take to make changes, to buy a new house, to sell our house, to actually move...the more guilt and strong emotions i am feeling. yay. (yeah...scarcasm).
i just want to feel a little bit of happy.
so why is it now, when i'm doing things that i 'should' be doing...like trying to move on with my life and figure out how to live it without james...why is it now i am starting to feel so much guilt.
that is not something i anticipated happening.

asdeopoerakldfka;d

i have a thing for lighthouses.
like i have a thing for boats.
like i have a thing for the ocean.
this is north head lighthouse.
and it's beautiful.
6 more days and E begins 3rd grade.
2 weeks from today alexander begins kindergarten.
i wasn't sure i could survive the summer.
but i did.
the offer i put in on the new construction house has been accepted.
i'm flying back this weekend to meet with the builder and actually look at the property and some other houses he's built....basically to work out the details of our deal and make sure i like what i see.
estimated completion date is march 15th.
if my house sells sooner, rather than later, i'll rent a house in our new location until the new house is done.
trying to be true to who i am, what i want, and what is good for the boys.
if i am making a mistake, well.....i'll figure it out.
but at least i won't have just sat here....complaining...being unhappy.....doing nothing about it.
therapist dude said my episode on the beach was me dealing with some of my grief.
he said it's me, figuring out how to live without james.
feeling guilty about what i'm doing, feeling like i'm betraying james by trying to be happy.
by actually moving.
it's just something i've thought about for so long.
it seems almost surreal that it's actually happening.
therapist dude said to me, right in my face, i am doing nothing wrong.
james would want me to do this.
he asked me if james spoke to me on the beach.
i was like...uh...are you a crazy fucking person?
he said, kimberly, you know in your heart what james wants for you.
so tell me.
because he spoke to you on the beach.
he spoke through you, as you were walking that same path back and forth for two hours.
i don't like crying because it's a loss of control.
therapist dude says i keep things deep down, that i don't often let myself express emotion.
and when i do i see it as a sign of weakness.
he may be right. i do see crying as a sign of weakness (in me only)....NOT in other people.
in other people, i see it for what it is.
i feel strong emotion (all the fucking time), just rarely express it, especially when i'm around others.
you could look at me and have absolutely no idea i'm screaming on the inside.
or that i'm choking back emotion.
what you will see is someone smiling, being polite....breathing...pushing it all down...away....
how is it possible to feel excited AND so sad about something is beyond me.
but that's how i feel about moving.
excited to be leaving here.
but sad too, because this is the place we shared with james.
and dude.
i never EVER thought in a million years i would say i am sad about leaving here.
because yes. i hate it that much.
i feel like i am abandoning james.
therapist dude says that i am not.
i know i am not. that is stupid.
but emotions have a way of screwing up the logic.
therapist dude said to expect more freak outs as the move progresses.
oh. yay.
i told him i'm opting for the get drunk and forget all the shit plan.

today i....

fired a realtor.
hired a new one.
put 10,000 gallons of eye drops in my eyes.
allergies suck.
broke my glasses.
pissed off pretty much everyone who wasn't already pissed at me.
helped jan.
it's a nice change from her constantly helping me.
got angry with james' mom.
i just shake my head on that one.
it is mind blowingly unbelievable.
got my house ready to show in the morning.
made airline reservations.
made car rental reservations.
laughed my ass off while jan and i were trying to put up shelves in her garage.
put strain on a friendship (i'm not talkin about my friendship with jan here).
and i'm not sure the friendship is strong enough to take it.
got angry about all the judgment coming my way about the move.
the more i think about it, the angrier get.
but i'm going to let that shit go.
i am doing what i think is right for me. and for the boys. period. the end.
it's scary fucken shit...moving somewhere where i know almost no one.
where i will have no support/help.
where i am responsible for everything!
my dislike of where i currently live outweighs the fear.
apparently.
because i am motivating.
actually doin this.
why does friendship have to be so difficult.
why can't it just...be.
let it fucken be and go with it.
just fucking let it roll.
i can't pretend to be something that i am not.
someone i am not.
i just can't.
you either like it...or not.
i don't have to fucking answer to anyone.
so why do i feel i fucken have to explain myself TO everyone.
wtf.
it pisses me off that people are trying to crush the little bit of happy i feel about moving.
there is a lot to this.
fear, anxiety, happiness, hope, sadness...did i mention fear?
i'm pretty scared at what it will be like once we're there.
what if i am just as miserable there as i am here.
then what.
will i ever be open to starting again?
even the thought of that feels like a betrayal to james.
i have thought about this. for hours. and hours.
if i had been the one that died, i would 100% with all my heart want james to find hapiness again. if that meant moving somewhere else....
eventually finding someone else to love...
but i can't even fathom that.
what i just typed literally brought tears to my eyes.
and we all know i fucken hate to cry.
am sick of that shit.
when will it all just go away?!
will i ever not feel guilty about feeling a little bit of happy?
still feeling way fucking on overload.
but i'm about to go give it up.
time for yoga.
a peaceful mind.
quiet breathing.
some killer poses.

i. can't. sleep.

seriously on fucken overload people.
problems with jan.
E waking up at night again.
me not sleeping again.
trying to sell my house.
trying to buy another one.
not exactly bein' the brains of the family, i've had to rather quickly educate myself about many things.
my family....how complicated it all is, how many times i shake my head. like...seriously? really??!!
telling james' mom i put an offer in on a house.
she watched the boys while i went to bunko tonight.
i figured i better tell her before the boys did.
getting my house in 'selling' condition.
my brakes.
you know, fuck. i can go to a place and they can tell me any shit they want and i won't know any different. i don't like that. at all.
this crash course in all the shit that james used to take care of for me sucks. just sayin. ;-)
same thing with the sale agreement i signed.
and about 6 other documents i signed recently.
people could totally be fucking with me and i wouldn't know any different!
having a shitty support network.
an almost nonexistent support network.
being almost incapable of being a normal person....not knowing how to function in certain situations, say...uh...like the one that went down with jan tonight. i fucking suck at this shit.
i could not fucking do yoga tonight to save my fucking life.
i could not concentrate long enough to control my breathing.
instead my mind raced.
i am so all over the place.
totally can't sleep.
too bad i can't paint right now.
that would be some productive time. you know, since i'm not sleeping.
just put E back to bed.
nightmare. the kid is exhausted.
alexander literally running and jumping into my arms when i got home tonight (he should have been asleep). but he was so concerned that i wasn't coming home again he waited up for me...hoping i would.
the amount of worry and sadness my boys have in their lives...it just fucking kills me.
so yeah, just slightly stressed out about a few things.
never knowing how to answer the questions.
you know, 'oh. her husband died?? what happened???'
wanting to live my life not as someone's widow.
to not be seen as 'that oh, you poor dear' kind of person.
because that is so not me.
but i am always caught off guard when someone asks me about james.
when people used to ask me if i was ever going to have children, after about the 30 millionth time, i just started answering, 'no, i can't have children.' that shut people up. maybe i should come up with something along those lines. it's mean. but sure fucken shut people the hell up.
i have made quite a few decisions lately.
and i'm damn tired of being judged.
even by the one person i thought would never judge me.
seems to have an opinion about things.
makes me feel like i'm living under a microscope.
that my every move is being watched. judged.
and that sucks.
yes, i know this is a downer post.
i'm just gettin it out.
hoping it will just all go the fuck away.
when i finally get some sleep i will have a better perspective.
still getting used to doing everything without james.
it just seems strange to me.
maybe i'm having a little freak out, wondering if some of the big decisions i have made lately are right.
maybe i'ved moved on to the psychotic part of second guessing myself.
i really don't know if the decisions i've made are right or not.
the only thing i do know is i can't stay here.
and i won't know if i've made the right decision until it all actually goes down.
i tell myself, at least i'm making forward movement.
taking steps to make something happen.
if you're unhappy, fucken change things.
and that's what i'm doin'.
probably lots of typos tonight.
i've got my wrist braces on.
and i'm too lazy to go back and fix stuff.

the only dog on the planet that doesn't like puppy rides!

it's been a crazy week.
i am pissed off.
i think i'm irritated because i miss james.
and still love him.
here's what it is i think.
i fucken do things on impulse.
totally fucken stupid things.
then think, later...wtf.
why did i do that.
because yeah, the other day i did something totally stupid.
something i can't take back.
and i'll be fucken paying for that one for a while.
FUCK.
why do i fucken do this impulsive shit?!
my trip to astoria made me realize once again, what is missing from my life.
it made me miss james all over again.
and that really does piss me off.
you can live your life, not need affection, sex, intimacy (some of the things i really miss with james)....
but then...something happens...
someone brushes your hand lightly.....
does something unexpected....nothing major, just shares something with you.
and it comes rushing back to you.
with a fucking vengeance that makes you crazy.
makes you miss what you had.
makes you want what's being offered.
in that moment.
you can think no further ahead than that.
you thought you were fine without it.
but then you realize.
you're really not.
at least not all the time.
THAT is what is pissing me off.

i have made some huge decisions this week.

financial decisions.

buying a house.

selling a house.

all things i would have relied on james for.

i'm all or nothing.

i basically shut that shit down when james died.

but now, 10 months later....

i really miss it. him.

it fucking pisses me off.

i don't think i can be satisfied with putting all my energy toward the boys.

i need more than that.

that much i know for sure.

what will my life be like after we move?

no fucken clue.

will i be totally and completely happy?

uh...no.

will i be living in a place i don't hate?

yes.

and that's a start.

and about as far as i can see into the future.

mom, you're gonna be hot when you get your nose pierced.

right on kid.
long beach, washington
it's a beautiful beach.
scenic.
my fave beach in the astoria area.
so far.
what fucking sucks is making a decision.
moving forward on it.
then having the whole mother fucking thing fall apart.
all because of insurance.
can't have a house on a sloping hill and not have slide insurance when there was a slide in that area 3 years ago.
now can you.
that would be stupid of me.
my weekend in astoria was pretty fucking good.
not being a mom.
driving around doing whatever *I* wanted to do.
of course doing some of what i needed to do, which was look at houses.
jammin the tunes.
eating m&m's and drinking coke for breakfast.
good shit.
having a few drinks.
spending time at the beach.
just hangin' out.
going out to eat.
yeah. you know i fucking love that shit.
walking (on the beach and waterfront).
feeling the mist on my face.
then it rained.
couldn't have been better.
being able to breathe.
actually being able to smell things. fucking concept!
the smells were amazing.
the ocean...
boats....that greasy mechanical smell some of them have. love that.
restraunt food cooking...
not being a mom.
oh wait.
i think i mentioned that already.
talking.
being quiet.
just soakin it up.
thinking.
laughing.
finding a comfort level.
in a new place.
that felt right.
sleeping.
i'm pretty sick of the fucking never-ending crash.
yes, there was one other house i liked.
but not as much as the other one.
a big driving force has been the boys' safety.
the house i like is on a cul de sac.
perfect.
kids and dogs alike.
everyone would be safer.
it's all fucken exhausting and now i just want to get drunk.
and be wreckless and do stupid things because i am pissed off.
it's a dangerous place to be.
i'm not good at stopping myself when i reach this point.
i've fucken proved that time and time again.
whatever.
it is what it is.
i'll never change.
the fucking bummer thing about it is, i can picture the boys and i living in that house.
but i absolutely cannot risk putting money into a house and then having the mother fucking thing slide down a hill.
probably wouldn't happen.
but wouldn't i be fucking pissed if it did.

why in the fuck does my body wake up at 10pm.

i know this beach has a real name. but i'm pretty sure i will always call it the driving beach. because you can drive on it. yeah. i'm like that. there's a street that will always be the dairy queen street (or road, whatever,) and i know that's not what it's really called either. i am back from my four day trip to astoria without the boys. did i mention i left my kids at home? did i mention how much that fucking rocked? come on. i called and checked on 'em. but it was time for me not to be with them. it was fucking imperative to my fucking sanity.

got up at 4am to catch a 6:25am flight. rented a car and drove. met with real estate agents. looked at houses. in the afternoon i went to the beach. just me. i'm pretty sure the other peeps on the beach thought i must be crazy. i started walking. and then basically walked in this same little pattern (which is some weird shit)....for about two hours. i am so used to keeping my emotions in check (because i'm always with the boys), and, well...emotions are just fucking messy anyway and i hate that shit.....but, uh...i sort of had a little freak out on the beach by myself on friday. so much emotion suddenly came out. i was like...uh...holy shit. so i just fucking walked. i had forgotten what it is like to just do whatever the fuck you want. to do something besides care for two needy little boys. to not really give a fuck what time it is. to just fucken do.....whatever. it killed. i have more to say about my weekend. but not tonight.

got stuck at the airport yesterday (on my way home). while i was waiting i went to the local coffee place and asked for a mocha. i said to the dude, i'd like a mocha, like as fucking hot as you will make it. he looks at me, repeats my words back to me....totally fucken smiles and starts laughing. the dude went and made me the hottest mother fucking mocha i've ever had. and that fucking rocked.

had my appointment with therapist dude today. last week i felt like he 'handled' me a little bit. and it fucking pissed me off. so today i went in with a fucken attitude. told him that shit isn't happening again. and now we are straight. last week when i saw him i think i was faltering. i was worried about the boys (who had been sick for two fucking weeks)...worried about more shit than was worth worrying about. anyway, today i ended up telling him the mocha story and he says to me, you used 'those exact words'?? uh. yeah. he laughed his ass off. i like that about him. he told me he likes that i just fucken say shit. at least most of the time i do. some shit is just harder to say (yeah..had that prob this weekend. wtf). anyway, theraist dude says people will learn not to fuck with me. that will be helpful in the next step of the process. he then gave me some advice on what to do next. straight up. and he is absolutely not supposed to do that. i told him i like that he IS willing to fucken do that. all we really talked about today was the financial aspect of what i am trying to do. there is more we need to discuss.

on a different note, had a conversation with james' mom tonight. as delicately as i could (but still being who i fucken am), i told her some things. fucken sick of should i, shouldn't i...what would james think if i did this....i can't function like that. so i just fucken said shit. i wasn't mean. i was trying to help her. not sure if i did but i am fucking glad i just said it. got it out there. because i can't do this shit anymore. now i'm gettin off the puter. i've got other shit to do.

a painting. 2009.08.02

'blue dot'.
it's stark, almost....
yet robust at the same time.
it's bold.
black, red, ultramarine blue, light blue....
full of texture...chunky (which i love).
and it's the first time i have painted in 5 months.
last night and today i painted three pieces.
two of which i wiped.
one of which i kept.
the other two....they are gesso'd and dry.
ready to be used again.
you CAN'T force it.
what you CAN do, is go with the creative process.
if you don't like what you paint, start again.
which is what i did.
the two pieces i wiped....boats in water.
no matter how hard i tried, i just was not feeling those paintings.
so i let them go.
and started again.
i find the thing that inspires me most, that has the most impact on me, is color.
a combination of colors seems to be where i start.
i will paint the boats.
just not today.
on my easel right now is a painting in progress (using one of my wiped canvases).
dark brown, grey, black...some yellow...
more than likely it will be flowers, in some sort of funky vase.
the painting on my easel (and blue dot)....painted from my head.
no photo in front of me.
no still-life set up and used, or photographed and then used.
it went from inside my head, on to the canvas.
which i think is pretty fucking cool.
more often than not, i don't know what a painting will be until it is done.
it just happens.
except for the boats.
the boats are something i have wanted to paint for a while.
they are specific.
which is unusual for me.
maybe that is why i am having such a hard time with them.
but it will happen.
i do, from time to time, paint from photographs i have taken.
i was trying to use three different photographs for the boats and turn all three into one painting.
maybe that was where i went wrong.
what i think is a mind blower is that when i paint, a fucking bomb could explode and i would be unaware of it.
it's like i check out....seriously...it's the strangest thing.
for now, (last night and today)....it has been dis-jointed.
it's been a difficult process.
yet all-encompassing at the same time.
it has been stop and start. sit. stare at the piece. repeat.
i have been near the zone...in it...to a certain exent (while painting blue dot).
i am not used to it being this hard.
but i painted.
how long will it be before i paint again??
good question.
painting is a rush for me.
i can take a deep breath when i paint.
after i paint.
that feeling of just being fuckien 'in the zone'...it is golden. it kills.
there is nothing like it.
well, almost nothing.
off to work on the piece on my easel.
at least for a little bit.
therapist dude and i.....
we have much to talk about tomorrow.
i am going to tell him he's a fucker for pushing me.
but i also know, if he hadn't, i would not have painted.