Thoughts On A Busy Day

Ugh so busy! No time to think, let alone write!

A few thoughts and things on my mind:

I inadvertently caused a bit of confusion and probably hurt in my already fractured family by neglecting to tell certain people certain things, but I think it all got cleared up last night. Simultaneously broke my heart a bit and made me feel kind of good/comforted, though. Will see how that all pans out.

Reached out to a friend recently, and received a beautiful response. We’re really just peripheral friends, but she still feels safe to me so I added a personal note to the end of a less-personal one, and her response was more than I could have hoped for. I look forward to engaging with her on a different level from what we have thus far. She’s awesome.

Wish I could see my therapist again this week, but wanting to go every week and being able to afford every week are two different things. Hopefully next week, though.

In that vein, I also started doing something new on my own at home, and while I am not sure what my end goal is, or which steps I actually intend to take with it, or even if I’ll keep it up beyond the past few days, I plan to keep it in mind for the next time I do see my therapist. If I stick to my guns, I will mention it, and let her help me move forward with it, if we feel so inclined. It’s a slippery slope, but I feel like it can only benefit me, no matter how far I go with it, or where that particular path takes me on this foggy journey.

Trying to pull together a radio play reading for the podcast for tomorrow evening. It’s always so last minute and stressful, but it keeps working out, so I am trying to have faith in that much, at least! I love all of the stages, from planning to realization. But the rest of life keeps getting in the way of my really being able to focus on it and succeed. It’s frustrating.

So with that, I’ll end this now. More soon.

But first, a comparison shot of Hudson Then and Now that I created from a picture I took on the last day I saw him before he left, and the first day I saw him after his return:

hudson-snuggles

He may be a GIANT now, but he’s still the same handsome silly bear I love!

 

 

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Resenting Reality

I have these notions in my head of what home is to me, and friendship, and good relationships. Among other things. Just ideas as to what I look for in my journey through life.

I keep getting glimpses of them – enough to make me think my sense of things could be possible for me, rather than something I just got from television while growing up – but my inability to manifest any of them in reality is frustrating, and causes me to doubt those possibilities, after all.

I’m torn now between wondering if I should settle for something more viable in my real life, rather than struggling for the notion, and ultimately being disappointed when it’s not how I think it should be. How I want it to be.

Do I strive to create the home I desire? Or the friendship I long for? Or the relationship I envision? Or do I accept each for whatever it already is, and if I fit into it at all, be grateful for that much. But if not, move on until I fit somewhere else better?

I’m so angry at myself for so many things, but I’m not sure how many of them I can change – how much -I- can change, since none of us has control over anything but ourselves at most, anyway. There’s nothing wrong with striving to be better, to be constantly learning and growing and evolving. There’s nothing wrong with not fitting anywhere. It can be lonely sometimes, of course, but not as much as being surrounded by vague or non-connections entirely. Lonely in a crowd. My inability to open up, or my disinterest in doing so minus with a few select people?

I don’t know.

I need to learn to speak better, especially in front of a camera.

Can a private vlog be far behind?

Myriad on my Mind

Well, the whole not being able to sleep much thing is getting pretty old. Will try again tonight to see if I can do any better.

Con Crud hasn’t fully set in, but it’s not any better yet, either. On the fence, I guess. Fencing Crud.

Squirrel saga is still ongoing, but in part because I haven’t heard any news yet this morning. Hopefully no news is good news – or at least not bad news – but we’ll see.

So much drama and stress and sadness, man. I can’t even tell anymore how much of it is directly mine to carry, and regardless, there’s so much I can’t talk about, anyway.  My heart and mind are tired. 

I got a lot done yesterday, at least. Saw a periodontics (is that the word?) dentist guy for a consultation, and have mostly decided to go ahead with the procedure he’s suggested, but I really need to make sure it’s covered by my work benefits first. It’s going to be dicey, anyway, because I have to pay the whole thing upfront and get reimbursed later, and since it’ll cost more than, say, my rent, I need to time it just right so that I can get reimbursed in time to pay said rent. Maybe even eat in the meantime.

At least the animals are mostly stocked food-wise for a bit.

Managed to change my address with the Ministry of Health, so I expect to be receiving threatening letters any time now about switching to a photo health card from my sweet old red and white one. I’m proud to still have it, but last time I went for blood tests, there was apparently a note warning me to contact the Ministry and update my current address…which I then forgot to do until yesterday. So that’s good, I guess. I have to get more blood tests done on Saturday, so at least I can tell them that the process has begun.

Yesterday was the first anniversary of what was probably my girl’s biggest loss to date, and I have no idea how to, like, acknowledge that for her, or with her, or anything. Not being in the same country doesn’t really help with that, either, of course. But I’m not sure how much of a comfort I would be, anyway. I guess some journeys have to be taken separately and/or on our own. I do hope, though, that she has a similar experience to mine, in that the first year is the hardest, and once you get through all of the firsts, a greater sense of your new normal can be found. It doesn’t suck any less, but I found that, for me, the dread became less. The fear of facing each unavoidable first gave way to a kind of grim acceptance of all the remaining anniversaries to come, and the knowledge that I will get through those, too, whether I like it or not.

I hope it’s similar for her journey through grief, too.

I renewed my zoo membership for another year. I think this is the earliest I’ve ever done it – more than a month early. Now I just have to remember to pick up my new card when I go there next – hopefully on Saturday. It’s supposed to rain, but I kind of don’t care. I plan to be shooting for Canada In A Day, and what better way to show off one of the things I love about a day in my life than to spend at least part of it immersed in one of my favourite places?

Of course, my weekend is already filled with things that need to be done, so there won’t be any rest, and if I am still fighting this cold, I may yet lose the battle as a result. If all of my money for the next year or so is going to dental bills, though, I intend to make the most of the days in between!

Accept The Journey

Man, I am so distracted by something I can’t talk about that I’m having trouble thinking of something to talk about.

I allowed myself to be hypnotized once. Well, I guess twice, but I don’t really remember the second time very much.

It was at a convention of sorts, and one of the guests was a friend of mine (IS a friend of mine, but WAS a guest), and on the side he was getting his certificate, or whatever it’s called, to be a professional hypnotist. He needed to do some practice sessions on groups, and so the convention people put in a time slot for him on each of the event’s two days.

I started off in the audience with everyone else, but then somehow ended up on the stage as part of the volunteer group of test subjects.

Now, I was always pretty sure that hypnosis would not actually work on me. Not as an ego thing, but rather due to the impression I have of my mind always being so active. I’m not good at quieting it and focusing only on my own breathing, for example. Believe me, I try and fail every night before I fall asleep. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to slow it down enough to think about only one thing at a time ever, and definitely not while sitting on a stage in front of a packed room full of strangers and friends.

Here’s the thing, though – I’d neglected to take my over-active imagination into account. My very creatively visual mind, coupled with the fact that I really like the sound of my friend’s voice made me a pretty perfect candidate for hypnosis, as it turned out! Enough so that I was even asked to be one of the volunteers for the next day’s session, as well. But that’s the one I don’t really remember. The first time, though, I remember – at least how it felt – very well even to this day.

I found the hypnotist’s voice to be soothing, and calming, and it made me want to please him. Not like THAT, guys. But I wanted to do the things he asked; wanted him to be proud of me. And after the heavy books and such, the main imagery was all stuff I really wanted to see – and could see, in vivid detail, in my mind. To the point where I was actually quite sad when it was over.

It’s definitely a trust thing, I think. For me, at least. I trusted him not to embarrass me, or have me do anything for which I’d be ridiculed after. In fact, it felt for the most part like the whole thing was about me – about calming me, and about giving me a nice visual and emotional experience aboard one of my favourite spaceships. It felt peaceful, like a brief respite from every day life, and that feeling lingered long after. Still kind of now, as I look back on it.

I think if I had fought against it, mentally, then it would not have worked. The difference was that I really wanted it to work; I wanted him to be proud and I wanted to take the journey he was offering me. I think as sad as I was when it was over, I’d have been even more sad had it never started in the first place.

Which, really, is probably something we should all keep in mind as we journey through this thing called life, isn’t it?

Crossroads

Cashtown Corners Cropped

Last night I dreamed I was at a crossroads.

A literal one that I used to know fairly well growing up (though in the dream I was seeing it from above, which I never have viewed it from in real life), and a figurative one I’ve been standing at in life for several months now.

It’s funny, that particular intersection has turned up in dreams before, though I think this was the first time I looked at it from above in a dream, too. There’s not much going on at the actual site – there used to be a gas station that I’m not sure even still exists – but three of the four branches were where I spent much of my travel time as a kid. One led home, one led to high school and towns that had actual places in them like movie theatres or department stores, and one led to the school where my dad worked. I think we also went that way to go visit my grandparents, too.

That fourth branch, though, I know we occasionally drove that way, but I can’t really remember where it leads, or what it looks like on the other side of the hill. I guess in whatever’s left of my kid-brain, that direction holds the unknown; the unfamiliar. Not scary, exactly, but there is a bit of anxiety attached to it, because I don’t know it nearly as well as the tried, tested and true routes.

My dream eventually put me back in high school, or at least in the building as a former student, if not a current one. So I guess it decided to go with the route most travelled, too.

Except for the route home, of course. No matter which way we were coming from, we always ended up on the same stretch beyond that particular intersection.

In life, I have the feeling that I’ve been taking the known routes all too often, as well. And there’s nothing wrong with that, exactly, but for quite some time now I’ve just been standing at that intersection, staring at the hill that I’m not quite sure what’s on the other side, and then glancing at the other paths that I have a better idea about. I’m pretty sure I know where those lead, and what will happen while I’m on them. But if I take one of them, even for a few steps, I’d still have to come all the way to this intersection in order to change my route. So I have to be certain that I don’t want to go over the hill and check things out over there. Because every time I think I want to try, it takes longer to get back to the crossroads than it did before.

In some ways, the world moves more slowly now.

Or I do, anyway. I definitely do.

I just have to figure out a way to take a step again – in any direction – without feeling like it’s the end of the world if I choose wrong.

I also think it’s getting harder and harder to choose anything BUT the unknown path, which is also contributing to my long hesitation here. I haven’t quite gotten to the point where I understand that, even if I have to come back to this intersection again after going the way I know less about, the NEXT time I’m here, I’ll have all the information I need to make a new choice; a choice based on all the facts. I’ll know what’s on the other side of the hill, and I’ll know where all the other paths lead. That alone is good reason to take the first step.

Now I just have to do it.

In other news, I had a kind of cool experience this morning, thanks to my Facebook memory feed. Four years ago tonight, I was walking home from the subway and as I passed one of the closed storefronts along my route, I saw this little face looking up at me:

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I fell instantly in love, and stopped to take the picture, and glance into the store to see if I could locate the little one’s person. I couldn’t see anyone, but I assumed they were probably in the back getting ready to leave for the night. I would later worry that someone had left their doggie locked in the store alone overnight, and entertain thoughts of going to break the door and get myself a new dog, because anyone who would do that to a pet (aka dependent family member) didn’t deserve to have one, anyway.

I did check in the morning on my way to work, and saw no doggie in the window, so that was good. I never actually saw that dog again.

Until I stumbled across the picture in my feed this morning and had a confused moment when I thought it was Brody.

When I took that photo, I wouldn’t meet Alysia for another year and a half…more, actually. I had no idea that a little puppy who would look so much like that random one would one day come to live with me and become the newest love of my life.

Maybe I glimpsed my future that night?

Maybe I should keep my eyes open for a big bag of money next time?

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