Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Friday, July 30, 2004

I'm doing a Jo Jamble, buckle up.

The dream. You have to mourn the loss of the dream, and the loss of what could have been. I'ts a fact and a real physical/mental/painful loss. That's one of the reasons that families have such a hard time with a loved one "coming out of the closet", is because they have to dispose of the dream and of their expectancies of that persons life.
The relationship between me and my "mother" has been very ill for most of my life, but now it is finally dead, and with any terminal illness, does one wish for more suffering or the finality and peace of death? Hard choice. Painful in either case. The silence and peace of death is that the suffering is over. SO over. The fire is out. I've pulled the plug and terminated the relationship.
I had my hair done this week and one of the other ummmm what the funk do ya call them, Beauticians? Was doing her Mothers hair, and they talked and they related and they hugged and they even LIKED each other?!? It just made me realize, that is not something that I ever had or will ever have. Especially after these last two weeks and the "EVICTION" from my guest house and my life. So I let go of the dream. I'm mourning the loss of the dream. It was sparked by some wise advice from a Nursey friend of mine. The "mother" can't love me any less.

My anxieties have been largely under control for the last year. It is known that a traumatic event can bring on Anxiety attacks or panic disorders to even those who have never had them before. My "mother" and her eviction from my guest house was my trigger this lucky can one gal be? That is why I have been in this needy, self evaluating, self depreciating, searching, self loathing, depressed valley for the last two weeks. Not pretty for those of you who've chosen to take the ride with me. (You can have a rain check) What is that great orange orb in the sky? ~blink~ ;o)
The last time I had a trigger was last year, was the first time that I recognized or was honest with myself about what was going on with my gray matter.
It was briefly mentioned in a previous post of mine. Cancer. Fluorescent green fluids. Fleshy sweet smells. I was SO attatched to that woman. If I had met her in any other walk of life we would have been fast, permanent friends. Her life and death made me question and re-evaluate my entire foundation, belief system and life in general. She would ask me, while I was doing her dressing changes, "when will these (meaning her cancerous lesions) get better?" and because of my love for her and because nobody else would be honest with her, I would have to tell her, "Joyce, the lesions, the open sores covering 70% of your body, are not going to get better" and she would say "OK". She knew. She just wanted confirmation. Her Doctor was also her best friend, and couldn't give her honest answers, so I did....I still resent it a little, and I didn't want to.....more than any other point in my life I wanted to tell sweet little lies. Towards the end, when her pain was so out of control, that every narcotic known to man wasn't sufficient, the only comfort that she could get was in my Doggy Moses. I would bring him to work with me. He sensed "something" and would sleep on her feet for hours and it calmed her and gave her a little relief. To this day my sweet Delta Dog Moses -a year later- won't go back to work with me. I have to take my wiener Petunia.
Her son was/is a Minister of a local Four square church here, and he would come to me with his pain and questions. He would bypass the charge nurse.....and come to me? Why? When someone is dying in general, but in this case dying of Cancer, they can crash very quickly and then be perfectly fine the next day. One night when she really crashed, close to the end, we thought she was dying, her Doctor friend called her fam, and said get here, it's time. The Doc couldn't even come...she (the doc) couldn't take it. But her son came, and wanted...asked....needed me to share a portion of his pain........he didn't dare knock on her door. He didn't dare shake her to see if she was really just sleeping.
She eventually had to transfer out of Assisted living to go to acute care. We held it off far longer than the SOP required. She didn't want to go. She knew why she was going. She knew she wouldn't be back. She knew she was going there to die.
I made a choice. It hurt. It still hurts. I decided not to go see her. I didn't want to see anymore, smell any more, feel anymore. It was a selfish decision, but for my own mental health, and in the state she was in, she never knew of my absence.
I went to her funeral. In 3 years I've never gone to another residents funeral. It's taught in nursing school that you shouldn't go. Shouldn't get that attatched. I went.
I went back to her sons, the Ministers, church twice. I wondered where he found his peace? What did he know that I didn't? I found that each person needs to come to terms with their own existence. Their own fairy tale.
And I'm working on it.

MIA Yeah Baby it's a Miss in Action!

What does Keri mean?  Does Keri really mean carry?  Or does it mean "dark and mysterious" of Irish/Gaelic descent (that explains my love of Brew) or does it mean "Melody/Song" of American decent?  or am I simply not in the data base?  The name of Keri creates an overly-sensitive nature which causes you to sense and feel far more than you can understand or put into words. You have a deep, artistic, and creative side which shows through a love for music and literature. Writing is a more natural mode of expression for your deeper thoughts and feelings than the spoken word. You have an ability to concentrate and work intently on anything which holds your interest. However, you prefer to avoid routine, monotony, and mental tasks.  Sounds like me.
When I do a search on Keri, I'm a security system, an illustrator, a DJ, a clam head? and a radio station 1180 Keri AM, or what I can really relate to, "Keri's 500 mile run from nowhere. 
Perhaps I'm looking for Keri in all the wrong places. 
Something that strikes my funny bone, is that my father's nick name for me is "Cherry Tree"  because my name is Keri Leigh.  Cherry...fruit 
I ask again, although I know.....Does Keri really mean Carry?  Should I put on the backpack now or later?  Put Your tools away, I don't need fixing, I'm not broken.

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Read by many, but understood by few...

OK, I'm gettin' very nekkid here.....
I avoid most labels, but if they fit so well, then maybe I should wear them until I grow out of them?
I have Social Anxiety Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and sometimes in very low spots Agrophobia.  At my very worst, I have debilitating and painful anxiety attacks to the point of tunnel vision and blacking out.  Nice, explain that to the neighbors.  Sure, yeah, I'm just inspecting the lawn up close, no don't dial 911 I'm medically trained.
Is this how I "view" myself?  No.  Does it piss me off more than I can say that I let  (allow) any of these control me and my daily life?  Yes.  Does it encompass my brain with rage that those I love are affected by this?  YES.  Do I think I will ever completely kick it?  No.  Am I on my way to beating it submissively silent?  Yes.  Yes.  Yes with a big side of Damitol!
That said, I obviously have a very difficult time trusting and getting to know people.  I have an even harder time allowing myself to be seen.  It's much easier to hide behind my smart ass, than show myself, but i'm working on it.  I have great inspiration......and I'm working on it.



Sunday, July 25, 2004

I'm in love with another man.

I'm an aunt again!  Everett Jay 9lbs 20inches on July 20th with RED hair!  His name comes from the book "The Brothers K", and he has won me over. He makes me ponder so many things.
What can a baby only a few days old dream about?  I've tried Breast milk, it isn't that great?  All the hours that I stared at him, and kissed his tummy and neck and feet and back and and and, (and really, I didn't mean to wake him up)  newborns have this neverending REM sleep, one minute they are smiling and the next crying in their sleep.
I just have to believe in life after death.  Have to.  Choose to.  Want to.
I haven't smoothed out my Dog (god) Issues, or Higher power or Creator or any of that crap, but I choose to believe in an eternal spirit/soul, or to quote a very wise man whom I hope doesn't mind,
"We can create electric or magnetic fields that persist and the regenerate each other thats how a lightwave works electric and magnetic fields oscillate driving each other. Well our brain is basically a big electrical generator, impulses running back and forth and over and around generating these fields around us all the time maybe what we are, what our "soul" is, is tied up in a pattern of electrical fields and what if that keeps going after we "die" and if it can then electrical fields should be able to intertangle intertwine merge and unjoin."
"I dont think that there is some supreme being on a throne looking down at us, I think its more along the lines of all of us make up part of a bigger whole. If you break matter down to its smallest components, you basically have a nucleus, electrons and protons. These particles are basically energy it just appears solid to us because of its vibrational rate (the slower the vibration, the more solid an object appears). Now the first law of thermodynamics states that 'Energy can not be created nor destroyed'. Judging that our thought processes when measured are electrical impulses and once again, part of the greater electromagnetic spectrum this would imply that taking the 1st law of thermodynamics into consideration, immortality is something we already have in front of us, we just might not understand how to use it or channel it. Seeing as how good and evil are merely just a matter of perspective anyway I think that the important thing is that we all act in a way that furthers us all. But that's just my take."
That works for me.  I think it can also explain how you can intensely love someone who was just born, or whom you've just met.
Now I'm off to fashion me a nice little tinfoil hat.... ;o) 


Please sign my petition.

I think we should get to have more than one mid-life crisis. I'm ready for one now, but I still want to have the option for one or two later on in life. ;o)
My life is good, Perfect kids... payment.....job....Fuck I've even got the white picket fence. All in all I have no physical needs,
but I feel trapped, closely followed by selfish.
There are times that I feel like I'm just a wind up toy, going through the motions, crashing when I'm un-wound.
Then there are other days......that I'm just one more twitch away from going to a globe, spinning it and where ever my finger lands, hopping on the next flight, and.....not looking back.
I spend so much time being what everyone else wants or needs me to be, that I don't remember to be me?
I feel like my brain is this organized little apartment building, with nice and tidy little compartments, but there is this one room, that if some one knocks on that scares me to think what would happen if I answered it? Technicolor.

P.S. The first person who posts a knock knock joke get's an ass whupin.

Thursday, July 15, 2004

World War III

Has officially begun.
The "mother" was told to vacate after numerous tries at compromising. Boy oh boy Mormons do know a lot of swear words.
Now her "smear and slander campaign" will go into full force.
But the good news is.......

Monday, July 12, 2004

Warm tomatoes

You know those days......, when you are so emotionally drained that you just go numb, and the numbness is almost a relief?
Where your brain refuses to focus anymore on any one subject except the only subject that you wish it would bypass.
Where you find yourself standing in the middle of the room, crying, but don't know how you got in the room and don't want to remember why you are crying.
One of those days that make me re-consider my life path, and wonder if I should have been a junkie instead.
There are those people in your lives that just leech your energy, suck the spark right out of you, and then just keep on driving never minding the "speed bump" that was what was left of you after they were done.
Then there are those people, who make a profound difference without even knowing it.
I found myself outside, in my garden where it seems I end up when I want something back, I give at home, I give at work, I give to the red cross ;o) and I give and I give and I give but I have a very VERY difficult time taking.

But I took what my garden had to offer today.
Somehow my salt shaker was in my pocket, and almost in an out of body experience I see myself sitting there eating my warm tomatoes like an apple with a little salt, warm but crisp cucumber with the skin on, and baby carrots,(sorry mommy carrot) I see that I have used my shirt tail to wipe the soil off of the carrots, and I'm barefoot and it just feels so basic and healing. And I breathe.
So I offer any of you that need it, a warm tomato and some soil between your toes.
Come sit in my garden.

And breathe.

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Polio of the heart, and soul indeed.

Two brown eyes
Filled with pain
at me.
Their deep color
The questions that beg
for answers.
A knock on the door
Rattles me back
To reality.
Two brown eyes
Filled with pain
Wiping out
Any sort of emotion
They might reveal
Turning around
A smile forms
On my lips
I open the door
Leaving the truthful
Mirror behind
Beginning my Charade....


Friday, July 09, 2004

Indigenous People.

I moved from a very large town (near Seattle) to a very very small town in eastern WA for multiple reasons a few years ago. There are more churches here than I ever saw in Utah, although different and various religions. I never fail to be shocked and awed at the "indigenous people" here. I don't mind a few missing teeth here and there, (summer teeth, some are there, some are not) or the wide spaced eyes and odd facial features due to in-breeding, but the mindset or lack there of, never ceases to amaze me.
Let me clarify that I, in no way shape or form, think that I am "better" than any of these folk, but I did have quite the culture shock when I moved. This explains my agrophobia. :o)
This all came after some very in-appropriate comments, in my view, from a co-worker of mine. This is a woman that I have worked with for 3 years and greatly respected. She felt that "faggot" was a completely acceptable term all in the name of Jeebus. She went as far as "condemning". Yeah, that didn't go over so good with me. I rarely speak my mind and position on things unless it is just too painfully painful and obvious. Let me just say that I rocked her small little world. Just when she thought that she had wrapped her mind around me, I threw in the Atheist card, to negate her hand. All in all, not very good working, co-worker topics.
Now, I have no aspirations to ed-mah-cate the masses, but she did apologize to me the next day. She is an immigrant from Germany and freely admitted that people there are much more open minded about such topics, and that she has just lived in the US for too long.
Check. Check Mate.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

A whole lot of nothing for no reason at all.

I have no will-power what-so-ever. If I pick up a good book and start to read, there is no reprieve until it is completely digested.
Yesterday morning I picked up a book that I had been meaning to read. 508 pages later, my mind feels mostly sated, my eyes a little fuzzy, but I can always gorge on more literature. It was Anne-Marie MacDonalds, "Fall on your knees", and it was just down right tasty.
Sometimes I go to the "fast food books" for a quick fix. But more and more often, I find myself hungry for books that really make my brain strain, and open to ideas that it may not have been open to before. Before this last feast I devoured something I've never even sampled before. It was middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I partook of a new exotic dish there. Wowzee. Somebody bring me some water?
Yes, I'm fishing for a recommendation for a good 7 course book. Any one who says the "Bible or BOM" will get pinched, except Joe he will like it, because I have already read my Aesops fables, and know how they end.
I wonder if this would be an appropriate thread at the fruit stand? lol....Fruit stand.....I crack myself up... ;o) Maybe a book of the day, oops month club?