flat

It’s flat, yanno. More like when I was shell shocked realizing that my last ex didn’t really give a shit. I raged and then shut down….just shut down….automatic pilot and better living through chemistry.

I took myself off the Xanex.  I can’t do it anymore.  One short week…I should have known better.

HA!  I can’t even bring myself to orgasm.  Now that is pitiful beyond belief.   Sure the drugs dampen the emotion and worry from rising to the forefront,  but it doesn’t stop the tears.  Just doesn’t stop my ocean of tears. And I can’t cum….

I’m going to find some free resources for HRT locally and see if that makes a difference.

Perhaps that will help with the weight gain.  Pitiful as well.  I tend to loose so easily.  And I’ve had a sinus infection for the past week.   Now, I’m 87 pounds….I need more body resources. None of my clothes fit.  I don’t want anyone to see me nude.  A bag of skin and bones.  I feel old and used.  Literally and figuratively. Unhealthy.

I cannot and will not operate in this world….flat, lifeless and not “feeling”…..

So there is a part of me-not “big” enough obviously-that gives thanks for a roof and some food.

There is the other part of me…as I sit here alone…with a text from my daughter, but no other phone calls from friends or family and honestly not wanting to make any-so who can blame *them* for not caling me?

That just wants to chuck it all and fuck it all to hell.  And fuck you too while I am at it.

I had a $1.00 turkey tv dinner for lunch.  Likely some eggnog and peanut butter for supper.

I will just decide to have good days no matter what.  It’s all about choice, right?

I’ve turned off the comments.  This is not a pity party and I am not some charity event.  It’s just fucking life.

Choice

We are shaped by our thoughts;  we become what we think. When the mind is pure,  joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.

– Buddha-

Measures

When one must measure the weight of giving, all parties lose. No measured ‘love’ can ever be enough, or fill the darkness within ourselves. He who gives, also receives; for what you freely give another, you give yourself more. “Gift” is what we freely bring to one another without thought of recompense, just because we can, and just because we wish it that way. Because we enjoy both the giving and the fruits of receiving that same energy in return.

(Corezon 11/21/2009)

copyright

No, he doesn’t find my bringing this up as unreasonable at all. And he respected what I needed to say. I did need to say it at some point. That point was today. The opportunity presented in a rather odd way at lunch….

Softly, gently, with clarity and totally blameless. I’m glad I waited.

He gets this as a copyright issue. Not some kind of “jealously” issue. That is what I was really afraid of last week. But really, when I was telling him, none of that stuff was a concern. I took the opportunity and trusted it would be ok. It “felt” right. I honestly didn’t think about what he thought about me personally.

He asked why I came to “doesn’t matter”.
I told him two things…
One, understanding it was a gift to him and I also understood the “heart” of it.
Two, no picture “ownership” can replace memory. She doesn’t have that afternoon at China Wall, and never will.
But to please understand I struggled a lot seeing the picture with her copyright for sale, on her page; just as if I were to see words from my blog elsewhere the same way. It was kinda weird. I acknowledged the picture was taken with his camera and not “mine” per se, but I was the one who took it. And then I *shrugged* and waited for his comments.

He looked pretty stunned. Unbelieving at first. He asked some questions. For Sale? Really? He had previously read the text but had not see the card for sale. But told me not to worry, he doubted the copyright on that site would hold up. He looked really concerned, tho, as he was insisting he would now have to bring up the issue with her. Ok I do get he might feel pressure from either end, and one of us will want sides chosen. I don’t.

I specifically asked him not to, to keep our conversation between us as something I needed to share and something I thought he needed to hear. Between us.
I think he will bring it up in his own way to her anyway to see what happens. He’s like that. But I know he won’t bring up the fact that I mentioned it.

So, whatever happens is his. And hers. I really think it was the right way to handle it. He has the opportunity to make up his own mind as he sees fit just as I already made up my mind. I am happy with that. I won’t mention it again to him.

I put myself back on Xanex…1/2 dose once a day. I told him that at lunch too.
Why?
It’s helping with being a bit more even, and less stressed. Happier, despite some tears. It’s not lingering to the extent it was. *smile*

Hey, better living through chemistry. *laughing*

Ok, I can live with that for a bit. *sighs*
But only a bit.

xoxo

Lifted work with new copyright

China Wall Original

Personally, I like how the picture was photoshopped. And the words are delightful. However, I’ve come to the belief that it was wrong to take the image from my album and offer it for sale as her own.   And it carries karma….

old woman

Old Woman,
you fit me.
A kidskin glove,
supple from
years of wear.
Warmth over
cold raw skin.
Balm on a
weary soul
seeking wisdom
in your years.

Old Woman,
young at heart.
Filled with
passions
of the past
precariously lived
in the balance.
Yet spirit within
never dampened.

Old Woman,
eyes sparkle
laughter tumbles
unending.
Secrets knowing
woman as sameness.
Understanding
and
Compassion
given freely,
an open hand
of trust.

Old Woman,
mortality lays
in the physical.
Tender touches
on another
resonate forever.

Young Woman,
harvest at will
my bounty.
Your heart knows
wisdom is
seldom heard
on open ears alone.

Come visit
with me again.

Old Woman,
you fit me…

For Margo
© Rosa Salpietro, 16 November 2009