my last appointment with therapist dude.

therapist dude bought blue dot.
he asked me to hold it until our last session.
that was today.
he always comes outside to get me.
when i got out of my car today he saw me with a painting all wrapped up.
when he saw it he said, 'so this means you're moving to astoria on saturday.'
it was a hard appointment.
one in which i cried.
a lot.
i am sick to fucking death of crying.
therapist dude asked me to think about what i wanted to walk away from our sessions with.
i told him it's clarity, direction and a way to deal with the guilt i feel.
i get buried in the shit and can't see a way out.
i get stuck on one small thing and can't move forward.
at all.
he openly gave me direction.
made it seem easy to complete what once seemed impossible.
even though this move is something i want....
the last couple of weeks have been extremely mother fucking hard.
basically sorting through our life together and keeping very little.
saying goodbye to friends.
but mostly it's been the way i feel like i am leaving james.
it makes no sense.
it's just how it feels.
i feel like i have lost something else.
with therapist dude i could discuss anything. everything.
no judgment, just guidance.
he was a positive in my life.
it just felt like i was losing a friend today.
i do think our patient/therapist relationship is unlike any other he's had.
he cussed at me.
i cussed at him.
we laughed.
i cried.
he listened.
he offered guidance/suggestions and flat-out gave me direction.
all of which i needed.
and still do.
but now won't have.
things are going to be different for me.
some of the issues that have been difficult here will be less so there.
other, new issues will arise, i am sure.
we all know i'm freaked out at being 100% responsible for the boys.
afraid of fucking them up.
but moving was my choice.
i think i feel even more scared than before.
because i now have one less resource.
therapist dude asked me to promise him i will paint once we're settled.
he said i need it.
and if painting isn't enough, find a new therapist in astoria.
and keep looking until i find someone i am comfortable with.
someone who won't make me pay their full rate.
he said if they want me to pay the full rate then they aren't interested in helping me.
they are interested in money.
therapist dude said i paint my emotions whether i intend to or not.
he said if he opened up blue dot he could show that to me.
i told him to not open blue dot until i was gone.
i vividly remember what he said today.
with the neutered and domestic thing we try to make it, remember....life is still a wild fucking adventure.
don't try and change that.
therapist dude gave me his email address.
apparently that isn't normally done after termination of the client/patient relationship.
he wants me to tell him how i'm doing.
he said if i need him, if i need a 'tune up'...let him know.
he gave me a hug before i walked out the door.
i'm pretty sure that's against the rules too.
but like i said before, that's one of the things i love about him.
he just doesn't give a crap about the rules....
between being exhausted.
sorting and packing up our lives.
helping the boys deal with their fear, anxiety, sadness.
dealing with my own emotions about james.
my own self-doubt about the decisions i have made.
selling my house (that is a fucking insane process btw).
buying a new house.
the crash course in everything i've had to learn to do these things.
dealing with the unsolicited advice about what i am doing.
saying goodbye to friends.
dealing with intentions that were right but somewhere along the line went wrong....
it has been a wild fucking roller coaster ride the last few weeks.


ps: not that he will see it, my nephew isn't allowed to read my blog because i cuss like a sailor...but anyway...happy birthday kyler! auntie loves you!!

the night didn't go exactly as planned.

i was trying so hard not to cry.
sitting in jan's car.
she went off on me.
telling me i won't look at this from anyone else's perspective.
i. can't. do. this. i tell her that.
there are still aspects of jan that i do not understand.
do not know.
i feel a lot of guilt.
i am making things more difficult for people.
taking some things away from the boys.
what opportunities am i opening up for them? that is unknown.
jan, gettin all up in my face.....it certainly gave me perspective.
also made the first half of our night together suck.
i shut down.
she is far more socially capable than i.
mediterranean for dinner.
then the hippy store.
still a lot of tension between us.
she doesn't seem to understand one of the things that makes me feel the worst.
the fact i am afraid our friendship won't survive the distance.
it certainly won't be the same.
she won't be right across the street any more.
no more 'just had to come over for a minute' convos that last an hour.
no more sharing our (almost) daily lives.
except by phone.
visits will be few.
have to be long weekends, over christmas break, or spring break.
i wasn't feelin it when thinking about the two of us going out.
i just had this feeling.
for the last couple of days i have felt like something bad was going to happen.
just felt 'off'.
i was so right.
the topic was not brought back up between the two of us.
it was just too raw.
my biggest fear is we won't survive the distance.
we will drift apart.
i want to be excited about moving.
our new location.
but i am afraid to be excited.
whether meaning to or not, the constant 'you're moving so far away', what are we going to do about christmas, how will the boys see each other....are you sure you have to do this....
it's all taking its toll.
i am already so full of self-doubt about this move, all the crap isn't helping.
i suck at the friend thing.
like holy shit kind of suck.
i usually just don't let people in.
jan.....i let her in. she did the same for me.
but this is like foreign fucking terriroty to me.
and i fuck things up.
i know if our roles were reversed, jan would not live her life for me.
she would do what she needed to do for herself, rachael and dan.
i am doing the same.
doing what i think is right for me. for the boys.
i am leaving her behind. her words.
when i first told her i was moving she was all, i will come and see you. yes. you know i will.
then it was..well....yeah...i'll come and see ya. sometimes.
now it's, hm.....can't make any promises.
whether it's right or not, it hurts me.
that she won't come no matter what.
maybe part of why i have been feeling like such shit lately is i feel like our time is limited.
and we are pulling away from each other before i'm actually gone so when saturday comes.....
both of us aren't crying.
i really don't let many people in.
it just never seems to end well.

what i will miss.

there is no excitement without risk.
i have a door from my bedroom out onto the patio in the back yard.
sometimes i go sit out there late at night.
IF the wind isn't blowing.
when it's a nice night, like tonight, i jam to tunes and sit.
i think.
sometimes i take a nice adult beverage with me.
sitting out on the patio late at night, superburrito (best fast food mexican i've ever had) and jan, dan and rachael are what i will miss about this place.
and that is it.
it is so hard to live my life exactly the way i want.
that responsibility/kids thing......
been feeling dizzy the last three days.
not nearly enough sleep.
too much stress. uh-huh.
but i am getting things done.
during my last appointment with therapist dude he taught me a new word. it's *no*.
i was like...dude...i know how to use the word no!!
he wasn't convinced.
he told me to go home and practice.
i told him no!
then i laughed.
and so did he.
packing up my painting stuff.
really made me miss painting.
how it feels to stretch canvas.
the smell of gesso and paint.
sure hope my desire to paint comes back full fucking force after the move.
holy crap i need that to happen!
time to get off the computer.
i should be packing.

10 days.

comfort and familiarity are nice.
but they aren't everything.
i want to be open to what is around me.
aware of it.
because i am scared of this move, i am likely to close myself off and live in a small portion of our new place.
hard to explain.
i will take the boys to school.
pick them up.
unpack.
take the boys and walk on the beach.
for a while, (maybe a long while), that will pretty much be my world.
i will be afraid to open myself up to anything more.
to meeting people.
uh..hello...fucking shyest person on the planet!
whose fucking brilliant idea was it to move where we will know almost no one!!!!
holy crap. i sometimes wonder what the hell i am doing.
maybe once i find a level of comfort in our new place that will change.
we will go exploring. literally.
but for me, personally, i am pretty sure i will be wrapped up tight.
i am aware of that.
and trying to force myself to be open to what is to come.
whatever that is.
this may seem dramatic, but over the last two weeks at times i feel exactly like i did when james first died.
i cry for no reason.
omfg i hate that!!!!
i feel an emptiness i can't even describe.
it makes me feel like the breath is being sucked out of me.
it makes my stomach hurt.
nothing makes me more angry.
i really don't understand it.
these horrible, intense, make me want to vomit feelings are coming back?! really?!
and then....they are gone.
and i can picture our new house, us living in astoria.
the boys and i, starting a new life.
i think it's the fact that james isn't going to be part of our astoria lives (i mean physically)....
he will never live there with us.
that makes me so sad.
how something i've wanted for so long can leave me with such conflicted feelings fucken pisses me off.
i don't want to live closed off.
i really do want to be open to what is to come.
to not settle....to not just get by.
i want to feel passionate about something....everything!
i want to wake up and feel fucking jacked up.
when someone makes you laugh, or does something kind, or unexpected, it leaves you feeling, hm....almost a little lighter. a little bit happy.
i want that in my life again.
but i also don't.
because if i experience it, i will want more.
and that really truly scares the crap out of me.
maybe i'm afraid to live all out, because i would be doing it without james.
and if i did that, and was the slightest bit happy, i'm not sure i could handle the guilt.
when i start to feel that way, i try to think how i would feel, what i would want for james, if i had been the one that died.
i would want him to be happy.
i'm not sure why i am having such a hard time with this.
logically i know that my being happy again doesn't mean i don't love james.
i fucking have issues.
i am sad (and actually dreading) the fact i see therapist dude only one more time before we go.
he helps me see things more clearly.
i need that.

11 days.

if i don't take photos, i forget.
where we've been.
what we've seen.
the boys' reactions to where we are.
i love this shot of E.
a kid, throwing a stick, there's just something carefree about that.
and that's what his life should be like at this age.
a few shots of the place we are moving to.
it's all strangely surreal to me.
it's like i won't believe it until i see it.
it somehow doesn't seem like it's really happening.
having told the boys' teachers that their last day will be the 25th, word is spreading.
apparently we are big news.
people need fucking lives.
people that i didn't think know who i am, know who i am.
and came up to me tonight at the spaghetti dinner (fund raiser for the boys' school).
apparently my reputation precedes me.
apparently someone's husband dying is still big news. this many months later?! really??!!
this shit is NOT following the boys to their new schools.
no one will know our circumstances.
we will be able to start fresh.
i am looking forward to that.
no one will walk up to me in the middle of alexander's classroom and tell me how sorry they are my husband died.
yes, i know he was trying to be polite.
but people don't get it.
that is a conversation to be had OUTSIDE the classroom in a private setting, not one where every kid (and parent) in the classroom can hear you.
school is supposed to be a 'safe' place for the boys.
not a place where they have to have their father's death put right back in their faces again.
so i didn't handle it well.
i looked at the dude and said, 'someone just kill me now', turned around and walked away.
he, of course, was floored. didn't understand my reaction.
therapist dude and i talked about this event.
he said, 'really? that's exactly what you said and did?'
uh...yeah.
people really don't get it (yes..i KNOW he was trying to be nice)...
but i don't want that shit brought to the school!!!
therapist dude laughed.
couldn't believe i actually said those words.
i told him, 'yeah, i know, i didn't handle it well.'
he said you know what?
you handled it fine.
you handled it how you handled it.
now move on.
feeling overwhelmed.
excited.
sad.
happy.
so so so much to do!!

every 6 years or so.

my best friend's name was darcy.
we grew up together.
we smuggled a cat into her mom's apartment (after her parents split up).
darce's mom was a softie and ginger (the cat) stayed.
darce (and her mom, susan) introduced me to hot chocolate pudding served over buiscuits.
i thought it sounded disgusting.
but it was SO good.
i snuck out of her house to hang with my boyfriend who was going off to bootcamp the next day.
we spent so many hours staying up all night, talking, laughing.
talking about everything. anything.
when we were in highschool (she was a year older than i), we were driving around in her yellow bug.
darcy ran a stop sign and we ran into another car.
i went through the windshield, was unconscious and was taken by ambulance to the hospital.
darcy was not injured (physically).
she was shaken. understandably so.
one of the people in the other car broke a leg.
the second person was uninjured.
we were young, and stupid. and had been drinking.
i ultimately ended up having plastic surgery on my face (the windshield thing)...
after the accident, my relationship with darcy changed.
i often wondered what happened.
what had i done.
our friendship basically ended (or so it seemed anyway).
until i heard that her mom died.
at this point she is living in georgia.
i am in, yes...sucky nevada.
james and i went to the funeral (which was in california).
darcy and i somewhat renewed our friendship.
she called me a while after that.
it was then that she told me she felt guilty (about the accident).
she just didn't know how to deal with it, and that's why we drifted apart.
she felt guilty.
it was like a lightbulb went off inside my head.
of course.
i told her it wasn't her fault!!
we talked about it for a long, long time.
then six years went by.
we didn't keep in touch.
then out of the blue she called me.
again, we got all caught up....said we'd stay in touch...and of course we didn't.
fast forward to tonight.
yes. i talked to darce.
she didn't know james died.
she didn't know we're moving to astoria.
but now she does.
she now knows my youngest son's name is alexander harrison danger reed.
i freakin love alexander's name. come on. danger??!! the kid digs it.
the sad thing is, i don't think darcy ever got over the guilt she felt about the accident.
but i never, EVER held it against her.
it was an accident!!!
we were both stupid, and drinking.
she was just the unfortunate one to be driving.
could just as easily have been me.
i hope it won't be another 6 years until we speak again.
she wants to see photos of me and the boys. the boys and i? whatever.
i want to see her now 14 year old daughter, jordan.
i think about darcy often and have over the years.
it was nice to talk to her.
since she doesn't facebook, or text message and rarely checks her email, i'm guessing it'll be another 6 years until we talk again.
i told her to get with the fucken times (come on, you thought there was going to be an entire post with NO bad language?) and FB, text and start using email!

pwdlwpdlwpdlwp

it's cloudy and cool.
my kind of weather.
two weeks from today i will be driving.
with 2 kids, 2 dogs and a lot of crap.
it's going to be strange living in someone else's house while our house is being built.
trying to ease the boys' fears about moving.
they are very concerned that we will be leaving without our furniture.
and the computer.
uh...have ya met me?
no fucking way i'll be w/o internet!
it's interesting what upsets them and what they don't seem terribly worried about.
E is not looking forward to being yanked out of 3rd grade.
i know he will be okay.
he will make new friends.
but i don't like that my decision is causing him stress.
next weekend (saturday) jan and i are hangin.
no kids (not even rachael).
we talked yesterday, both of us close to tears.
not sure wtf i'm gonna do without her.
been doing a lot of yoga.
to try and keep my heart from exploding.
E fell and hit his head.
ER instructed me to wake him up a bunch of times at night to make sure he would, in fact, wake up. and yeah, if he doesn't be sure and bring him in. ya think?!
had to do that when he was a baby (he hit his head then too).
that kind of shit is stressful.
looking forward to the move being done.
to getting settled into the rental house.
and watching the progress as our new house is being built.

nbvnbvcbvbxvb

another no photo post (which sucks).
not feeling artistic, or creative.
my closest friends are pulling away.
before i'm even gone.
makes me sad.
but it doesn't make me change my mind.
just makes me stronger in my resolve.
it reaffirms that i am doing the right thing for us.
that taking care of us...and us only...it is what i need to do.
i sing in the car. actually i rock out. and i don't care that people stare at me.
i don't do it for the attention. i would prefer people NOT stare at me. but whatever.
i do it because it is me.
i need music right now.
i am used to being the odd one out.
i prefer to do my own thing, not blend in with the crowd.
i don't go out of my way to be a freak (yeah, i know, you don't have to say anything to that)!!
apparently i'm a freak by nature. lol.. and i'm down with it.
i don't really care if i fit in.
i am trying to impart that to the boys.
it's a hard thing....kids naturally want to fit in.
i just want my kids to stand on their own.
to stand up for what they believe in (whatever that ends up being).
i am prearing myself.
to go to a new place.
where we know almost no one.
for what that will be like.
having no one to turn to.
might not even be able to call jan.
might just choose not to call her.
i think i have spent so much time hating it here i haven't really pictured in my mind what it will be like when i actually live somewhere where i don't hate it.
the move, selling my house, buying a new one...all the change that is about to take place...it is overwhelming.
dealing with my feelings about feeling like i'm leaving james....
yes, he will always be a part of me.
but this is harder than i thought it would be.
i am talking to the boys about it. a lot. every day.
the more we talk about it, the less scary it will be for them.
they know our plan, step by step.
yoga tonight.
and more ibuprofen.
then hopefully sleep (last night i barely slept at all and that just sucked)!

aoerpaqoeriawoeir

peoples' actions speak louder than words.
the amount of suckage i have dealth with in the last two days???!!!
holy shit.
but i am fucking walking away.
letting it go.
finally made a fucking decision about the house today.
holy shit wtf is wrong with me.
took me a freaking week to make this decision???
what the hell.
pretty damn tired of everyone giving me their two cents.
about every move i make.
didn't ask ya. so shut the hell up.
i am doing what i think is right for us. me. and the boys.
i don't need your analysis.
or opinion. unless of course i ask you for it.
i just keep saying the same thing.
i'm not gonna sit around here and bitch about being unhappy.
i am going to make some fucking changes.
if it works out? great.
if not? i'll fucking figure it out.
at the very least i will have done....something!! at least tried to change things!!
i can't make things better for everyone.
right now...i just don't have it in me.
i can take care of the boys. they come first.
the others??
you made choices.
now you have to live with them.
i cannot make it better for you.
and if i could?
i'm not even sure i want to.
because every time you were given the opportunity?
you failed us. james. the boys.
so now....you get to deal with it.
maybe in time i will want to make it better.
maybe in time i will try.
but not now.
am i a shitty person for that?
probably.
but it is what it is.
i am going to miss therapist dude.
he is my reality check.
puts me back in the right direction when i go off....
he makes me hear things.
like it's not my fault james died.
i am not sure i will ever get over the guilt of taking james off life support.
therapist dude says i need to find someone in astoria.
look until i find a good connection like he and i have.
he wants me to keep seeing someone.
yesterday was alexander's first day of kindergarten.
he was SO excited. and happy.
i was excited and happy for him.
that is all he saw.
he had no idea that inside i was sad.
because james wasn't there to see alexander go off to kindergarten.
you know...truly...since james died i HAVE put the boys first.
even before james died the boys came first...but now?? even more so.
i put aside my feelings, to take care of theirs.
there are people in our life that are not capable of doing that.
and that is sad.
while alexander and E were at school i took that opportunity to take some of james' clothes out of our closet and donate them. it needed to be done. realistically i can't pack all of james' things. i would like to, and the boys would like me to. but it's not realistic. so while they were gone, so they wouldn't be distressed, i took an entire car load of james' things to goodwill. i am not done.
i can honeslty say me not making them feel better about what they have done...it is the first time i have been like this. it is the first time i have been this strong in how i feel. i am not a mean person. but i am not over it. the fact they can't put their own emotions aside for the boys? that is just damn sad.
it's been an emotional few days which makes me crazy.
emotions suck. they are just so messy.
the closer i get to making this happen...i just have such mixed feelings.
happiness, excitement....but i also feel that sick to your stomach feeling. because even though i know it's crazy, i do feel like i am leaving james.

smores and jellyfish.

in case anyone doesn't get this, my scarcasm is my defense mechanism.
it is how i keep you out.
it is how i don't show you my true feelings.
it stems from a flip attitude.
if you care about nothing nothing can hurt you.
i am scarcastic by nature.
i would guess to some, it seems extreme.
i think people don't get it.
they think holy crap. wtf.
they see it as me being angry.
they don't understand it for what it truly is.
because of this i am often amused at people. by people.
their responses to things i say and things i do.
i laugh when things are funny.
that is pretty much the extent of emotion you will see from me.
when the fluffy make me gag emotion starts to come out i make it stop.
sometimes i am quiet.
i am always thinking.
i freak out if i don't have access to the internet (and some sort of news on a daily basis).
i giggle when i drink.
i am shy.
painfully shy.
but once i get to know you there is nothing i won't say or do.
i hate being in large groups of people.
when i am in a group of 4 or more i basically shut down.
i can't deal.
if i love you there is nothing i won't do for you.
i am not mean.
i try to be in tune to those around me.
to be kind. and caring.
polite.
so get a fucking grip people.
my scarcasm has been a big part of how i have dealt with james.
i am harder now.
yes, that is true.
which is sad, actually.
but i am also not hard.
if i ever let my guard down i know what would happen.
because i feel things so strongly.
i am afraid of what would happen to me if i let my guard down.
because of how i do things.
how i just jump in.
it's like this constant struggle.
me wanting to live all out.
but not being ready for that.

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.

2009.07.31

earlier today?
98 fucking degrees or some shit.
then the clouds rolled in.
and it rained.
you know...
a nevada rain storm.
which means it poured for 10 minutes.
then it was over.
i love it when it rains.
so i told the sick one (E) to get in the car.
zan too.
and we went for a drive.
in the rain.
windows down.
music blasting.
it cooled off to 62 degrees.
it was freaking awesome.
all the windows in my house are now open.
the door to the outside in my bedroom is open too.
sick kid is on the couch.
the other one is running around half naked. whatever.
spent the morning with jan. nice.
reminded me of high school when heather pezzullo and i used to ditch school and go lay out in her back yard.
i am freakishly afraid of two things:
parking garages (i hate hate hate them).
and....having to stop under an overpass (which happens all the time when i get on the freeway heading toward my house).
yeah.
like at that exact moment the fucking thing is gonna fall down on top of me?
or an earthquake is gonna hit and that'll be it.
i am a freak.
it is my intention to paint.
on sunday.
now i've said it.
gotta make it happen.
one blue fucking dot.
that totally made me laugh out loud.
seriously tempted to take a huge-ass canvas in to therapist dude.
with one blue fucken dot.
therapist dude says i won't allow myself to paint because painting is something i love. it's immersion. and release. it allows me to think about nothing but that. to be in that moment. he thinks that i think (did you all get that...) that if i allow myself to paint i would be allowing myself to be happy. and right now i don't think i should be happy. so he says. i'm still thinking about that. could be a combination of that...that and the fact i am just not inspired. he says i'm not allowing myself to become inspired...because..yeah..i won't allow myself to be happy. dunno. i'm thinkin 'bout it....
going to bed early tonight.
feeling like crap.
E passed on his delightful congestion/cold thing.
yay.
maybe i'll go stretch some canvas.
right now.
and that will fucking inspire me SO much i will paint all night.
um...yeah....probably not.
but i do think i'll go stretch some canvas and put the first layer of gesso on.
so i have a canvas to work with on sunday.
it will be the first time in five months i will have touched canvas.

yes, i like him.

i have flipped him off.
a few times.
have said fuck, or fucken, or fucking.
more times than i can count.
even used mother fucker.
and yes.
there is a difference between fuck, fucken and fucking.
sometimes what you're saying just calls for 'fucken' vs. fucking.
i'm an equal opportunity *f* word user.
anyone who knows me knows i am totally laughing right now!
smiling my smirky smile.
he has made me cry.
made me angry.
and made me see things from a different perspective.
he is my reality check (of sorts).
i have not lied to him.
i am contemplative during our sessions.
sometimes he asks me questions i just don't know how to answer.
and i tell him that.
i have decided i like him.
he's actually pretty funny.
i like that he says it like it is.
he gives me things to think about.
that i might not have thought about otherwise.
he opens me up.
as in being willing to see things differently.
he helps give me direction.
he redirects me.
to where i am trying to be, but aren't sure how to get there.
therapists aren't supposed to form opinions.
but mine has.
i think i like that the best.
he would tell you that he hasn't.
that what he told me is fact, not opinion.
because i asked him about what he said....
i like people who are strong enough to stand up for what they believe in.
whatever that may be.
that and the fact therapist dude can be pretty fucken funny.
he shares just enough of himself so that i relate to him.
he's not stupid.
during our session yesterday he gave me a 'painting' assignment.
he seems concerned that i haven't painted in five months.
he told me to 'paint our sessions'.
i was like...uh....dude.
apparently i haven't yet adequately explained to you how i paint.
it's not to express emotion.
i mean, specifically the emotion of any given day.....
i don't sit in front of a blank canvas and say, 'hmm....today was a fucking great day. how can i get that down on canvas.'
no. that's not how it works for me.
it is fleeting.
it's either there...or it's not.
and right now, it's not.
i must be inspired.
sounds like crap.
but it's true.
so he said this: "even if you put one dot of blue paint on a mother fucken canvas and call it good....do it. if you have to force it, then force it. you need to paint."
i'm working myself up to it.
i told him i was totally gonna fucken paint one blue fucken dot, title it 'here ya go mother fucker' and be done with it. he found that extremely amusing.
and yes, he knows i blog about our sessions.
and that i call him therapist dude.
he is down with it and finds that amusing also.
it is not easy, seeing therapist dude.
i'm not exactly a 'fluffy lay your feelings out there' kinda chick.
and its certainly not fucking cheap.
it's not covered by my insurance.....
and apparently it's important enough to me to go anyway.
i am trying hard, very hard...to find a way out of this.

therapist dude. july 27, 2009

my friend leah and her daughter maggie this past weekend in san francisco. love this photo!

alexander loves leah. she held his hand, he talked. and talked. and talked. he even did a little twirl as they were walking. SO cute. god i love that kid!

me and the boys. the boys and i? whatever. at every little jewelry stand we passed (and i do mean EVERY one)...we stopped. i am always looking for (and wearing) hippy shit. bracelets...chokers...clothes... found a bracelet with a peace sign on it. if it didn't have leather on it i would SO have bought it. but you know...whatever...i don't eat cows...don't really wanna wear one either.

alexander eating clam chowder in a sourdough bowl. what else ya gonna have for lunch in SF?! the first two pics i took with my iPhone. the other pics leah took and was kind enough to send to me.

had my appointment with theraist dude today. i mentioned that therapist dude said four words to me a couple weeks ago. four important words. he said, "it's not your fault." he said it over and over again to me. apparently doing so had some sort of impact on me. because i remember him saying those words to me. he was talking about me taking james off of life support.

today, he again left me with words. short and sweet. otherwise i wouldn't be able to retain what he said. sometimes i walk out of there not remembering much of what i have said. his words for me today were "they have no power over you." i have been putting too much energy into something. something i will never be able to figure out or understand. i have been allowing them power over me. we were talking about james' family. therapist dude wants me to think about his words. i'm sure he will want to talk more about them next week.

i don't have a lot of positive feedback/reinforcement in my life. but today therapist dude told me that he has never seen such devotion. such a strong sense of care and compassion. depth of love. he was talking about me, caring for james during the 10 years he was sick, and during the time he was in the hospital (the last time). i thought that was interesting. because i don't see myself that way.

time for yoga. then a movie. tomorrow morning? getting more shit cut out of my face and more lasered off. here's to small non-noticeable scars and quick healing. i will be SO glad to finally have this shit done.

things that i know. july 26, 2009.

ice cream at ghiradelli square. it had to be done.

pics taken with my iPhone. i didn't take my cam this weekend. anyone who knows me will now pass out. i take my cam EVERYWHERE. just wasn't into it. so i left it at home.

sea lions are cute.

but stinky.

E is still in there...somewhere.

he can be reached.

it's just hard to do.

my kids no longer want happy meals.

they want 'adult' meals.

they are 6 (almost) and 8.

uh...adult meals?! really??

not only do they want them, they can eat the entire thing.

yes, i took my kids to mcdonalds while on the road.

got a problem with that? ;-)

mcdonalds puts crack in their coke.

otherwise i wouldn't be addicted.

E in some ways is coming into his own.

the kid who was afraid to go to the deep end is now swimming to and in the deep end.

the kid who was afraid to put his face in the water begged me for goggles.

so i bought them.

and he used them.

actually swam with his face in the water.

it was awesome.

yes, we spent time in the pool...heated pool i might add...

to see E come out of his shell of fear...at least a little bit...it's huge.

while walking around SF with leah and mags (i have photos but don't want to post without leah's approval)...E saw a bracelet (for boys)...and he asked me to buy it for him. it's got the symbol for 'no fear' on it. perfect. fits him. and his personality...that he's growing into. he's been wearing the bracelet (um, do you call it a bracelet if it's for a boy??)....since i bought it for him. he's sleeping with it on. and i love that. fits his little hippy/surfer dude thing he's got goin on.

i saw some happiness on his face this weekend.

and that was the fucking best thing ever.

he was so proud of the bracelet...that it has the symbol for 'no fear'.

he thanked me and hugged me....

he held my hand...

to see the kid that he used to be come out...if ever so briefly...and i do mean briefly...

but i know he's in there.

the traffic in san francisco SUCKS.

spending time in san francisco is an assault on the senses (in a good way).

where else can you breathe in the sea air, coffee, sourdough bread, crab and pot all in one breath. yes. i said pot. as in marijuana. not mine. but someone was having an awfully nice day in SF. ;-)

road trips make me fucking feel better.

i love the 'idea' of SF.

the cooler temperatures.

the ocean.

the culture.

all the different people.

i fit in there more than i do here, that's for sure.

but it's too big for me.

and the traffic sucks. like SUCKS kind of sucks.

if i could find a microcosm.....

that didn't cost a million fucking dollars to live in...

and was really small enough....SF might be the place for me.

you know..as long as there was no traffic.

or earthquakes.

or quite so many people....

yeah...i'm lookin for a smaller, less inhabited kind of place.

say maybe an island somewhere! lol...

where the boys and i will be safe.

because i worry about that now.....

but SF will always be one of my fave places.

these are the things i know for sure:

i will not live somewhere where it's fucking hot.

i don't want to live in a city as big as SF.

i'm a smaller place kind of peep.

SF weather is perfect. for me.

it was a nice weekend.

now everyone knows i'm fucking blind.

just...as in about 30 seconds ago...took this photo using my iPhone.
i have zero tolerance for bullshit.
i always say it like it is.
life is too short to fuck around.
something happened to me when james died.
i just couldn't deal with the bullshit anymore.
i can only take so much.
when i reach that point...
i can no longer remain silent.
meetin up with my girlfriend leah in san fran this weekend.
her daughter, mags..and E...good stuff.
we're hittin ghiradelli square for some ice cream.
that's the only 'must do' of the weekend.
there is a pool and a hot tub in my future.
jammin to tunes while i drive.
just gettin the fuck outta here.
and this unbearable triple digit heat.

my nephew wants to get a tattoo with me.

dixie rose tattoo shop.
come on.
ya gotta love it.
my nephew, matthew, wants us to go together and get a tattoo.
only prob is...where i want my tatoo?
he shouldn't be seein' that.
allergies are kicking my ass today.
spent an hour of my day yesterday practicing yoga.
trying a new unwind/end of the day yoga tonight.
3 lonely little red bulls left my fridge.
haven't had any red bull in a couple of months.
everything...and i do mean everything...from the attic and garage has now been sorted through, packed, sold or donated. that was my weekend project. getting rid of everything i had gone through.
it is done.
the garage is very empty.
two people asked me this weekend if i am divorced.
one person (who obviously doesn't know me well) asked me what my husband does for a living.
my friend jan told me today, as we were driving down the road, she is sad that i am moving.
she told me i am funny.
it's interesting the way people see you.
not the way you see yourself, that's for sure.
i see myself as scarcastic (moreso than funny)...slow with comebacks..but when i finally do think of 'em they're damn good. ;-)
jan says i am strong.
i can be.
but am not always.
she says i am not paralyzed.
that i am getting things done.
my head is clearer than it was in the beginning.
i see therapist dude tomorrow.
since our appointment last week i have replayed the four words he said to me.
"kimberly, it's not your fault."
are therapists allowed (uh...like there's some rule book??) to tell you those kinds of things?
even if they are not, i am glad mine did. that he does.....that he WILL do that.
with the concentration and focus on breathing during yoga, i hope to be able to slow (and calm the pounding of my heart).
i can make the shell of my body relax.
but have yet to get to my core.
to truly relax.
to control my heart rate.
my heart often beats...no....pounds in my chest.
i can feel my pulse throughout my body.
it's a trip.
i'd like to be able to control it.
by breathing...and focus....
i think that is some powerful shit.
i am going to do yoga every day for the next week.
even when i hurt (some of the poses are damn hard)
there will be no excuses.
part of yoga for me, is trying to get myself back in balance.
to put the things that occupy my mind...totally out of my mind.
to let go.
also hoping it will help me sleep.
pandora is pissing me off (their sneaky commercial inbetween the occasional song.
sick of the one hundred million billion degree temps over these last few days.
did i mention how much i hate hot weather??!!
think i upset james' sister this weekend.
i think james' mom is wondering if i even have a heart right now.
because i have gotten rid of so much of his stuff.
not something i think she was prepared to deal with.
since the boys and i were sick my appetite is fucked.
all i want is ice cream, candy bars and coke. oh. red licorice too.
i find that yoga on a full stomach is NOT a good idea.
especiallay if your stomach is full of...uh...ice cream. candy bars. and yeah...coke.

this is a trip!

i don't have many photographs from my childhood.
i have two.
and this is one of them.
i know i have said this before.
i feel things SO fucking strongly.
everything.
when i feel joy, it's unbelievably amazing.
when i feel sadness....it's unbelievably overwhelming.
some days the rush of up and down is so volatile it makes my head spin.
today has just been one of those incredibly high/low days.
up...then down. then up...then down.
it's at the end of the day.
when the boys are in bed.
that the crash comes pounding down on me.
it's almost like a huge ass wave.
that's the best way i can describe it.
that's why i think therapist dude might need to reevaluate his diagnosis.
i'm thinking he's missed something.
because this doesn't feel normal.
maybe it's grief...being on with the boys 24/7...i don't know..
maybe it's me being absolutely fucking exhausted.
i don't know a single person who feels things like i do.
as intensely as i do.
the high highs. fucking low lows. no middle ground.
someone's single act of kindness can bring me to tears.
i can go through james' things....and do it methodically...not feeling anything....
until later.
then i do.
when i think i'm handling it....doing shit....
a few days later..a week even...it comes back and fucks with me.
james' mom now knows the boys and i are leaving.
moving.
i wasn't going to tell her until i knew for sure where we are going.
and what, exactly, i am doing.
but she has heard bits and pieces (from he boys when she sees them)....
and i made the mistake of telling her i am going through everything in the garage....
and she flat out asked me.
so i told her.
i have to say that james dying has been isolating.
i tend to be isolated anyway.....just my personality...
i know many people.
but have very few real 'friends'.
but the ones i have, i have for life.
but the isolation thing....
sometimes that's how i want it.
sometimes it's not.
today was just like...fucking....wow.
and i fucking want to know when my new yoga dvd's will get here.
that is pissing me off.
amazon has never been so fucking slow!
had bunko here tonight.
12 chicks.
some serious loudness.
it was fun.
yet sad too....
some of the girls talking about their husbands.
my life is just so different now.
and i am truly really fucking tired of the roller coaster.
seriously.
i just want to be mellow.
and chill.
and fucking get on with it.
so i'm wondering, that if i want that so bad...
why can't i just fucking make it happen.

not only am i gonna flip the fucker off, i just might punch him too.

i love boats.
like absolutely love love love them. am fascinated by them. all different kinds.
this is one i found during my last trip to astoria.
some day i will paint this boat.
you know, when i paint again.
some day.
i hate shopping.
i would rather do anything than run around all fucking day shopping.
had my appointment with therapist dude today.
i asked him how i get the images of james on life support and actually dying out of my brain. those images keep replaying themselves inside my head. and i'd like it to stop. his answer: i can't. those memories are a part of james, just like all the good memories. uh....not the answer i was looking for. he says i need to bombard myself with positive images of james. that that will help keep the horrific memories from coming so often.

we then talked about how one day, when the boys are older, i will have to explain to them that i was the one who decided to have their father taken off the ventilator. and why and how i came to that decision. not a conversation i'm looking forward to. but the boys deserve to know the whole story of their father. when they are older.

the night before last i was reading story to the boys in alexander's room. we were all piled on alexander's bed when ethan asked me where daddy is. as in, where is his body. ethan thinks james is now a pile of bones. he wanted to know if daddy was buried. i had a service for james (and the boys were there). at the time it didn't occur to me that they would ever wonder where his body was. so we had the discussion of if a person doesn't want to be buried, they can be cremated. then i had to explain the process of cremation (at least so they would understand and begin to grasp the concept...i did not go into full details). i did not tell them where james' ashes are. but of course, alexander asked. i told him they are somewhere safe. i didn't tell alexander where they are because i didn't want him to be scared or spooked, or feel strange....james' ashes are, in fact, in this house.....at some point we will go together (the boys and i), and spread james' ashes in the right place. so i had to explain to the boys that sprinkling the ashes of their father will be a sign of respect, it will be a part of the full cycle of life. we will be returning their father to earth. to nature. with this ceremony/process will come closure. and dudes. that is a lot of shit to explain to an almost 6 year old and an 8 year old.

therapist dude then decided it would be good for us to discuss my apparent guilt over my decision to have james taken off life support. he was pushing me today. and i was getting pissed. pissed because 1) i hate to cry. and he was making me cry. and 2) well....he was just pissing me off. he says he knows he is on target with me when he sees that fiery/don't fuck with me/you're pissing me off look in my eye. he was so there today.

i know i have healed some. but, apparently, am still raw when it comes to this particular topic. i know it was the right thing to do. when blood clots go to your brain, and leave you paralyzed, and your brain bleeds...bad things happen. your brain stops knowing what to do and how to do it. you are no longer eligible for a heart transplant. when your heart, which was only functioning at 10%...can't take the additional stress on your body and pretty much quits working....there really was no other choice. james would not have wanted to live like that. he couldn't have survived. i know all these facts. but even so, it's a big deal. and something i will always question myself about. i know deep in my heart it was the right thing to do. i knew, when making the decision, that some day i would have to explain all of this to the boys. knowing that i was still able to come to the decision that i did.

i just left alexander's room. he was crying. crying because he misses james. misses his daddy. i was in bed with him, cuddling him, holding him, talking to him....telling him it's okay to be sad. okay to cry. he is so very sad because he knows he will never see his daddy again. i told him yes, daddy is physically gone. and it's not the same...but....he is still a part of our lives. i told alexander i will help him remember the things about james that he needs to know. that we will find a way to be happy again. and will do it all the while remembering james, making him a part of the boys' lives as much as i can....all the while i find a way to go on and be happy too. it seems impossible to me. but i know it's not. it IS what is going to happen.

so yeah. good luck to myself on the yoga thing tonight. so fucken not happening. lol... i think it will be next to imossible for me to quiet my mind tonight. but i will try.

oh, ethan lost is first tooth today too. omg. please please please don't let me forget to take the tooth and put money under his pillow tonight. because that would suck. he was so excited he could hardly stand it.

stream of consciousness.

impression, sunrise.
monet of course.
painted in 1873 when monet
was in le havre.
i loved art history in college.
one of my fave pieces of his.
my newest obsession (holy crap like i need another one)....lemonade.
since the boys and i got sick it's the only thing i can drink.
i feel like i've been throwing our life away.
i have gotten rid of so much shit.
going through everything from the attic and the garage.
almost done.
the single car side of my garage is now stacked with boxes and bins that are ready to go.
ready to be moved.
getting rid of the big-ass desk upstairs in the loft.
when i move i am downsizing.
i'm preparing for that.
getting back into yoga.
morning yoga. and yoga before i go to bed at night.
trying to focus myself.
it's actually pretty fucking hard.
got the results back from the crap i had cut out of my face.
it was not cancer.
i knew it wouldn't be.
going back in on the 14th for a little reconstruction.
therapist dude thinks part of the reason i want to move is related to james.
uh...fucken duh.
lol...actually i'm not sure about that.
one of the first coherent thoughts i had not long after james died was the fact i no longer had to live here.
i was free to move.
it was sort of shocking to realize.
sucky way for it to happen...but yeah..whatever.
i hate it here. and always have.
i'm not expecting my life to change completely after i move.
i'm not thinking i will all the sudden become completely and totally happy.
but it will be a start.
i feel like i'm waiting to start over.
start something new.
and can't do it here.
don't want to do it here.
moving will be isolating.
that's the only bad part about it.
but i'm already isolated.
kicking some ass with my iPhone.
figuring out how to do shit. that rocks.
still haven't painted.
wish the feeling would just be so strong that i couldn't stop it...and i would HAVE to paint.
but, uh.... yeah. that's not happening.
not yet anyway.
still listening to music non-stop.
and breaking up fights between the boys.
holy crap when is summer over.
oh. did i say that out loud?
i mean, i love my children.
i'm enjoying every second of summer.
omg. anyone who know me knows how funny that is.
next month is my trip away for the weekend without the boys.
maybe i'll make a fucking decision about something.
that's a novel idea.
in any event...i'm looking forward to the time away.
to just be me.
and not a mom.
i'm sure i won't fucking know what to do with myself.
have made some calls to superintendent's offices at a few schools in places we might go.
to get info.
taking small steps.
next on the agenda, putting the house on the market.
well, you know...AFTER i figure out where to go.
i AM fucking doing this.

ps: eva, if you read this, i want you to how much i appreciate you. i have lost your email address. email me. dawnay@gmail.com

the tv is on but there is no volume.

for the last few months i have been walking around not really giving a crap.
and it shows.
i have found myself not smiling at the person at the target checkout counter.
and i used to.
always.
my overall demeanor/temperament has changed.
i'm not sure if it's spending time with therapist dude.
or me just figuring shit out.
or nothing at all.
maybe i have been angry.
no. i know i have been angry.
but i thought it wasn't so much at the forefront.
but there have been small changes in my outlook.
my flip attitude has taken over. completely.
my friendly demeanor has become less-friendly.
this is the last thing i want to show/teach the boys.
this is not who i am.
i keep saying fuck, get over it. deal with it. it happened. now get on with it.
and i thought i was dealing with it.
maybe i have been.
in teeny tiny chunks.
i feel like when james died, some of my gentleness was ripped away.
some of my care and compassion. my ability to understand....feel empathy.
it made me harder.
less open to the world.
less open to kindness, to being kind.
i've been sad...and helping the boys deal with their sadness and grief. and anger.
part of my problem is how deeply i feel everything.
including sadness. and anger.
it literally can take my breath away.
i need to get back to my core.
i will never be the same.
but i also don't need to become someone i don't recognize or want to be.
i am still in control of how i handle this and what i do from here forward.
what comes around goes around.
i believe in positive thinking/energy.
i need to be able to bring about a sense of peace for myself.
and for the boys.
i will focus on how to change my situation. our situation.
am i all the sudden going to morph back into the person i used to be?
hell no.
i'll still be angry more than i should be.
but i am aware of it.
and can take small steps to change it.
took off alexander's training wheels today.
i taught him how to ride with two wheels.
and two wheels only.
he was so happy.
so proud of himself.
it was adorable.
and sad.
but i tried not to focus on the part where james wasn't there to see it.
hoping to be back to 100% tomorrow.
haven't puked all day. yay.
3 days of not eating.
here's to gettin on the scale in the morning.
and that totally made me laugh out loud.

kind of a long post.

james was 28 when he was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy/congestive heart failure.
he was sick for 10 years.
i will forever be grateful he was in my life.
he was THE best man i have ever met.
i don't know what other words to use to describe him.
he was just it for me.
i thought we would be together forever.
we have been through a lot together.
while there was much good in our lives, there was also much stress and worry during the 10 years he was sick.
i have a lot of healing to do.
i know for sure i have to get out of here.
i feel stuck. i don't belong here.
to change that, i need to take the next step.
and actually move.
therapist dude and i had a chat about expectations and labels.
he now knows some of the things i have done since james died.
and surprisingly enough, he was down with much of what i have done.
doesn't think i should feel guilty.
i thought i didn't feel guilty.
but apparently i 'think' i should...and have been spending time wondering why i don't.
therapist dude was specifically trying to diagnose (or not diagnose) me at our last session.
out of 7 areas, only two are of concern to him.
which is pretty good.
considering my frame of mind on a daily basis. ha.
the last three days have been strange.
first E got sick.
then alexander.
then me.
we had to cancel our plans for the 4th.
which is a fucking bummer.
it's been isolating.
barely being able to get out of bed yet still taking care of your sick kids can do that to ya.
not wanting to move...but having to clean up puke...while puking at the same time yourself.
so not fun.
james was the only person i could rely on.
now i have no one i can rely on (the way i could james).
yet i have people relying on me (the boys).
listening to dave matthews.
and coldplay.
the tv on in the background with no volume.
i know that somehow i will figure all this shit out.
and will do it with very little guidance or support.
actually the guidance i get now comes from therapist dude.
and the support i get comes from jan.
having trouble sleeping tonight.
tomorrow i'm hoping to feel well enough to leave the house.
the boys need not to be home-bound.
hopefully we will all be well tomorrow.
i have thought about making my blog private.
because it really is just for me.
to leave my thoughts.
to help sort through them.
it is not a place i wish to be judged.
by a person who doesn't leave their name....but posts anonymously.
by a person who doesn't know the full story behind some of the things i write.
james and i were self-sufficient.
he was my family.
he was the person who cared for me.
loved me.
made things better.
he supported me through it all.
i did the same for him.
we just went together.
belonged together.
and now i don't have that.
and i'm trying to readjust.
so for anyone reading what i write, and judging me...i shake my head.
have you been in my shoes?
if you had you would not be judging me.
going to try and sleep.
with my iPod jammin some tunes into my mind.