by Sarah | Mar 22, 2011 | All About Me, Crap, Writing
Feel no pain, but my life ain’t easy,
I know I’m my best friend.
~”Escape” by Metallica
I’ve never understood it.
Why I am like I am.
I know my parents didn’t understand, but they tried.
I remember visits to the psychologist at UB-Amherst.
I remember the embarrassment I felt about those visits.
I remember keeping my truth hidden.
The truth I feel inside.
It was blamed on teenage depression (though no meds were used – not that I’d have taken them). A reaction to the teasing and bullying I was subjected to.
It was an acceptable explanation. Reasonable. Everything made perfect sense to them.
It didn’t make sense to me. I’d felt it so long before the teasing started. The disconnect. The sense of being…different.
While I would play with the other kids, race around outside, laugh, swim in the lake, in pools, dance in a group or solo, lived life like any normal child…
I felt like an outsider. Looking in on these events.
There was only two places I felt complete.
The first was on the stage. Expressing myself in dance and movement. I knew there was an audience, but I couldn’t see them. It was me and the energy on that stage, wrapped in lights and confidence I felt nowhere else.
The other…oh, the other was such a cause for turmoil.
It was in my head.
In my room, buried in books. Buried in worlds that weren’t here. Weren’t pressing on me. Weren’t all around. They were safe, in my head. Oh, there were dangers, adventures, worlds unlike any other…but there I was in control. There I wasn’t the odd duck in a sea of normal people.
It wasn’t until high school that I truly found the release of creating my own escape instead of reading the escapes created by others.
When I am in these other worlds, creating them, reading about them, my brain stills.
In every day life the pressures, the chaos, the thoughts in my head swirl and turn until there is no escape. The smile I wear is genuine, I’m not completely lost to the chaos. When I am in life I am happy.
I can’t call it depression because that isn’t what I feel – it’s just a never ending chaos. It always has been. For as far back as I can remember it seemed as if my mind never stopped. When others could sit quiet and relaxed, my brain was still turning over possibilities of life, problems needing answered, questions needing asked. There is no true being still for me. My mind is not happy with ‘still’.
There are times when we are all sitting as a family, but my head is millions of miles away. I get called on it by my husband. Wondering where I am because I am not “here”. It can go on for days sometimes I get so lost. So far gone.
It frustrates my husband. Even when he knows I always “come back”.
I feel so bad for that.
That when I am here…writing…reading…focused and intent…I am lost.
Lost to him.
Lost to my kids.
Lost to this real world that is so chaotic.
Because here is where it is still.
The thoughts stop.
I am in control. Focused on making the lives created under my fingers into something worthwhile. Fleshing them into real people I could never be. Worlds I could never live in. Adventures I would never see otherwise. The chaos there is planned, expected, created by me.
Some days it is hard to pull away from the peace.
And that is wrong.
Real life should be more appealing.
But my ‘daydream’ moments pull far too often.
I’ve never been able to stop it – just ask my parents. I was often chastised for escaping to my room and my books. My Dad feared that it would lead me to a life of addiction like he lived through.
And it has.
Addiction to writing. To the internet.
To the “other”.
I’ve never understood why I am so different. Why it seems like the way my thoughts function is so different from everyone else. Why my social anxieties seem so extreme. Why they only go away at the theater (I’m the life of the party at auditions) or online. Why I turn into a blazing ass trying to be nice and “fit in” with the cool kids when I meet others in person.
I don’t know how to change it. To live in the real world. To form “real” friends that I communicate with face to face instead of keyboard to keyboard.
Effort has been made.
But it’s painful. Frightening. Anxiety inducing. Being face to face.
I don’t know how to find an acceptable balance.
But I know that I need to.
by Sarah | Mar 10, 2011 | All About Erik, All About Marriage, All About Me
For the first time in a while I’m using a prompt from MamaKat. One of her prompts this week was: Write a poem about a time you were left behind.
Vows were made, sealed with a kiss.
Onto the reception they were whisked.
Dinner, dancing, a bit of drinking.
Family, friends, the party was shrinking.
Tired, worn out, the day was ending.
Time to depart, the honeymoon pending.
Bride and groom gathered their things,
Bits and pieces in the wings
Then returned to the hall to go home
Only to find themselves all alone
Everyone had left in a rush
Leaving us in the dust.
So we favored the still open bar
Until family arrived in a car
****
True story. Hubby & I got left behind at our own reception. We’d used a limo to get from the church to pictures and then the reception…and not one person had planned on how we would get home to our cars so we could leave for the hotel. We had to call my parents and remind them of our existence.
Thankfully they only lived about 5 miles from the reception location!!
by Sarah | Mar 7, 2011 | All About Me
(See Part 1 Here)
It was the second day of sixth grade. I was excited to go to school. Always had been. I was one of those kids that LOVED school. I loved learning. I loved seeing my friends. Hated gym, but otherwise school was great.
That day. The second day.
Everything changed.
I don’t know what did it. What happened. I still didn’t have my braces (those would come the following summer), or glasses (not until about February of 6th grade), or even zits (but boy would those ever hit in 7th grade).
Nothing had changed.
I hadn’t changed.
But suddenly no one would talk to me.
Friends I had known for the past two years. LAughed with. Shared a lunch table. Slept over their house.
I was dead to them.
Janet.
A girl I didn’t know. In a school our size it was easy to not know everyone in your grade level.
For the first time she was in my class.
She was the “IT” girl.
SHE declared me “uncool”. A “dork”. “NERD”.
I was done for.
They say words can never hurt you.
Those words did hurt.
I was always very sensitive. A crybaby.
The words made me cry.
They took what little self esteem I had and stomped it under their cruel little letters.
Suddenly kids 2 years younger than me were just fine with abusing me. With words. With actions.
I was spit on.
Picked on.
Hit.
Left alone in the corner of the cafetorium.
Picked on by the kids that had been on the bottom of the totem pole just the year before.
Outcast.
I would have preferred sticks and stones.
To the stigma.
The stain.
Of words.
****
Part 2 of an ongoing (if slow going) series. More to come soon.
by Sarah | Mar 3, 2011 | All About Me, Crap, Cystic Fibrosis, Random, Special Needs, Writing
Dear Mother Nature:
I love you. With all my soul I do.
I beg of you. PLEASE stop with the wet, wet, wet springs (and it’s not even spring yet this year!!). Our poor crawlspace was so happy and dry until you get all deluge rain-storm happy the past few years.
I’ll gladly take more summers like last years incredibly hot one if it means we get a dry(ish) spring.
Thanks much.
XO
Me.
****
Dear Anthem,
You blow.
Denying Cystic Fibrosis meds is NOT COOL.
Eat shit.
Me.
*****
Dear Indiana,
I was so mean to you. I still am sometimes.
It’s not your fault, I suppose. You just happen to house a great deal of redneck twits. Though, per capita, not the greatest percentage of places I’ve lived.
Still, I apologize. You are a saving grace in this insurance Hell. Because of you, our Angel has what regular insurance seems to think she doesn’t need. So thank you and your CSHCS.
I love you a little more every day.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Me.
******
Dear Pandora,
I get it. Advertising is important.
That being said, I’m married. Showing me a BIG flash page of singles…not so much.
They weren’t even cute…
Except that bottom one…he’s pretty cute…one little problem…
Oh, Pandora. I KNOW him. He’s married. Cute. But very married. Where did this advertisment come from anyway?
Hugs…but you don’t get kisses,
Me.
****
Dear Top Chef,
LOVE the All Stars season.
Bring it back.
But this time make it fan favorites. And give me Kenny. I loved Kenny and he was gone FAR too fast.
XOXO,
Me.
*****
Dear Angel & Riley,
You two are driving your mama nuts.
Stop beating the living crap out of each other.
XO,
Your very tired mama.
***
Dear Characters,
I love you all.
To my two MC’s:
Keep running me ragged. But please leave room for the new ones. They aren’t as strong willed as you, they are far less developed. But I have to get to know them if I can ever tell their tale.
I promise, if you let me get to know them I’ll give you many long baths together while I’m busy writing the story of the new guys. Not like you need a tub. You’re happy with a crowd nearby…you and the thrill of getting caught.
Behave.
On second thought, don’t…you’re both far more fun misbehaving…
XOXOXOXOXO,
Me.
by Sarah | Mar 2, 2011 | All About Me, Random
I am not here.
For the first time in almost six month I have been kidnapped by my characters and have turned into a writing fool. Soon as I recovered from the illness that had me dreaming of horny hippies and House, M.D….I was lost. Much has happened, not much has happened. I have things to post about, but this blog is one of the things being neglected.
In good news, my 3 book series is almost complete, perhaps by the end of the week.
In better news…that leaves you with a random bullet-list for today for a quick catch up. It’s what you always wanted, right?
***
* As you can see above I got my lovely new (to me a ‘refurb’) XS camera….the battery grip I’ve been craving…and the 50mm I’ve been dying for.
* All 3 have been sorely neglected. Soon as I got them I got sick. And then kidnapped. I need more practice time w/ my lens before I feel capable with it. Not to mention the camera. Hopefully soon I’ll be allowed respite from words for pictures.
* Report cards came in. Surprisingly good….some not-so-surprisingly not-so-goods…more on that later. All in all, though…we are very proud of our two schoolies.
* I’m still not happy about last weeks doctors appointment. I will be able to more fully explain once I have more fully digested it all.
* I started pilates last week. I loved it. The next morning I still loved it. I was achey…a wee bit sore in the right spots…but Im terrified to go tonight. Why? Well…right after loving it, I ended up having that flu-thing hit me hard. All that tightness/sore from the exercises felt about a million times worse. It makes tonight a little nervewracking – even though it wasn’t the pilates fault.
* In a strange twist of fate, being sick has helped me make great strides in my wish to stop drnking so much pop. Even though it never “made me ill”, I didn’t drink a drop of my usual while I was sick. By the time I DID drink some to help curb the incredible headache (partly caused by caffeine withdrawal)…it just didn’t taste the same. Even now, fully healed, it’s just…eh. I’m drinking a lot more water.
* I’m really happy the weather is getting warmer and the days are getting longer. I just wish it didn’t mean that my crawl space was flooded…for the third year in a row. The past three years have been so BAD for flooding. Our previously never-been-wet crawl space is now going to get a sump pump put in. *sigh*
* Still don’t have my teeth fixed. Had appts scheduled both last week and this week. Sickness in the household prevented me from making those. Hoping to get in first thing next week. I need to get the second estimate so we can make plans. Oy. Hate dentists. They charge INSANE amounts. Not fair.
Time to hush. Shower. Feed the little one. Get back to the keyboard and get writing. See you on the flip side!
by Sarah | Feb 26, 2011 | All About Me, Crap
I took this picture earlier in the week. When I had a sick husband & daughter…I didn’t realize that a mere 36 hours later I would be the one so laid up I wouldn’t be able to function to even take a picture or write a blog post.
At its highest, my fever hit 101.3 (I believe, only checked every 12 hours).
It hit suddenly.
At 4:00 I was fine. My stomach felt a little fluttery, but nothing that hinted at oncoming tragedy. I left my girls in the babysitting hands of their older brother and left to surprise the hubby to dinner out. His choice.
By 6:30PM when we were at Best Buy I was hardly able to walk. My chills were so bad, my entire body was trembling. We raced home with the heater on, leaving our secondary car at Archie’s work because I didn’t feel well enough to drive. By the time we got home I was done. Pain, fever, stomach cramps beyond belief. I was begging for mercy, and apologizing to Archie for not being more understanding when he was sick.
So what does this have to do w/ my post title?
Oh…well…didn’t you know that with a good size fever you get the STRANGEST dreams?
I blame the first night on my current obsession with catching up on old House episodes on TV. I’d left to go surprise hubs in the middle of a whiz-bang of an epi and my mind was still rolling over it…at least that’s my defense. Oh, and I just got my new XS and my new 50mm lens…so I’m sort of obsession over those too…
Which is why I was kept awake (and asleep apparently) with dreams of House and his team talking about cameras & lenses instead of medical terms. It wasn’t until a tombstone was built that I was graced with enough peace to sleep for a full 3 hours.
Disturbing?
The horny hippies?
Oh, well, they apparently (in my head) moved into the house next to my Grandma’s (now my Aunt C’s) house. I was in NY, somehow ending up in the house next door. A couple of hippies had moved in and kept going at each other with me right there, so I left…to see a new (very black) door on my g’mas porch..and all the porch furniture was black…but the old door was still there. The house looked the same inside (though I’m fully aware that it doesn’t now), just a few minor differences. My cousin was inside (my aunt C was absent) and rushed to greet me. My Aunt D showed up…but was more excited to see my nephew (where he came from? No idea) than me.
Then I woke.
The hippies…they disturbed me…still do.
Seeing my aunt and cousin? Much more refreshing.
Hippies…
Oy…
Feel no pain, but my life ain’t easy,
It didn’t make sense to me. I’d felt it so long before the teasing started. The disconnect. The sense of being…different.
It wasn’t until high school that I truly found the release of creating my own escape instead of reading the escapes created by others.
