A change of pace

Working really hard to not let this break my heart. Had to take the dogs on their first separate walks today. Ralph is just slowing down so much that it’s too hard to juggle them on leash and off leash he tends to get left behind. Instead of crying or fighting it, I’m reminding myself to enjoy the different paces. Lexi will help me burn calories and get invigorated by nature, while my walks with Ralph will remind me to slow down and smell the roses… or every smell ever in his case. This way too, neither will feel rushed or tied down, and get some one on one time with mom.

 I still find it so incredibly hard to imagine that my sweet handsome Ralphie, the same rascal who would leave us in his dust on walks on the marsh, where we would have to squint into the distance to make him out between the tufts of hay. Or who would run away from the yard as soon as you turned your head and then keep himself just out of reach as you awkwardly followed him through all the neighbours backyards. I suppose I don’t miss the frustration and anxiety of those times but seeing him so slow is hard. But his nose still works and he has an incredible joie de vivre that I envy!

Written Aug 2014 -

People always insist on calling me crazy or insane, so why can't i right now, do exactly what insanity is and keep repeating the same thing over and over and keep faith that i might very well get a different result.

Very rarely am I willing to sacrifice anything that might lead to my feeling uncomfortable, but for some reason when it comes to love/ relationships, or mainly I think, the feelings of others, I let myself be compromised. Even when I knew for some time, things just really weren't going to change no matter how many times we discussed it, no matter how many times i cried, it was just never going to be what i wanted or needed.. Honestly too, maybe i didn't let it be enough, maybe i just wanted to get away from it, not even let myself compromise even thought i knew that was the nicest thing to do. i think i just know myself far too fucking well to try to play tricks on my self and let myself believe everything is ok and i'm happy. I've written this before but maybe i'm not meant to be part of a duo, maybe sadly (in society's eyes), i'm just supposed to be me, rescuing pets, focusing on them, their upkeep, their health, focusing on my job, my house, my family, and not seek the same things everyone else says we are supposed to. I've always, always dreamt of being happy like my mom and dad, but maybe my happy is different, i mean, some people love little poodles, i like big huge, snuffly, drooly dogs. That doesn't mean my love, my happy is any less right, or that theirs is any less valuable. Damn! societal strongholds constantly confusing me, making me think i want the same things. I don't, at least it really doesn't seem like i'm meant to enjoy them. Now Dan was pretty awesome, with flaws no doubt, but i didn't want to move past the flaws to see the loyalty and potential of a decent forever, I want to strive for the right thing for me, the right happy. God I sound so fucking cliche but I mean it. I guess it has to do with my fighting depression, not wanting to let sad rule me but knowing i have to always be mindful of it and keep working at happy. maybe that's why i don't let ok work for me, why i just have to have it my way. And oh my god i know I must sound selfish but sometimes, I mean really, who fucking cares , I can care about all the starving babies but if I end up walking off a cliff or driving off the road because i'm so caught up in the sad that is around me and ignoring my own... what good am I to any cause at all.

My mind is getting flabby

I want to feel like I’m being educated. Like I’m actually learning something on a regular basis. I see new things and I try new things but it’s always just another version of the same, or something I don’t get to completely understand, just treat, or assist. I don’t have teachers and I don’t have a real classroom. 10 years ago I went for the social aspect, and because that’s what my family did, I didn’t hate it but god it didn’t feel natural. And now I find myself wanting to be the thoughtful and wise person my dad always asked me to be and I’m surrounded by unused minds.

I almost don’t bother wanting to join a group or seek an outlet because I worry I’ll only be disappointed at the depth… I would love to be in a choir but I don’t want to be stuck singing Christian rock with a group of people trying to prove how groovy and into God they are by singing some hymn with a beat. And I don’t want to be singing with a bunch of old ladies who don’t really bother… I would love to find some young people who just have talent, and have drive to learn something new, to experiment with their voices and make something beautiful, or awkward and different.

I don’t know that I can really say when I last had this kind of conversation, not since I’ve been in NF. Who can I have those conversations with, certain people I might try to  show off, or impose too much, I just want that feeling of sitting on a balcony on a hot summer night as the sun has set and the neighbourhood is hushing, and you toke a joint or sip your beer and in the first hour of meeting you discuss religion and abortion, but you haven’t offended anyone, you haven’t harped on personal experience you’re just talking about stuff. You’re discussing the world and what’s going on without belittling it with your life, your crap.

Thoughts about thoughts

I want so badly to find that person who can think at the same speed as me, stay on the same thoughts path as me, as random as it might be. Not to be told im so crazy or woah where did that come from. Someone like Emma was back in the day who knew where I was coming from how I got to a certain point and found the same random shit funny. Its not random babble its philisophical thinking its expanding its not being afraid of being wrong but challenging myself to get it right whether I come about it by the same conventional methods as others or if its by messing up rambling on and maybe sounding like im lost, all the while stumbling to an answer. An answer that suits me, that expresses my thought, my opinion, my feeling.
I miss not caring how much time ISpent on thinking but thinking because I loved the feeling.of challenging myself, of getting that exhilarating feeling of finally expressing what it is I was thinking whether it be to anyone or just the tree I was sitting under. I didnt care I found the satifaction in just having the thought and making it conrete.
I hated sometimes that when I finally went to write it down I'd lose it again, sometimes my grasp was only   fleeting, and maybe that was only because the thought only had that long to be and by the time I got the paper and pen I wanted to expand it again, think deeper about it or further about it.

Brave face

I think to deal with heart break my instinct after initial outward sorrow is to work at constructing a positive outlook and image. Tell everyone you are ok. Tell them you dont regret it, that its for th best. You dwell on everything that wasnt working. But once time has really passed you get to a point where you let yourself acknoledge the loss you felt and that part of you still misses it. That a part of you wants to go back. Im ok alone but obviously for quite some time I was happy with someone else. I guess its when you feel you are strong enough to grieve it without making yourself want to try again. This time comes now... Over a year later... I dont even remember the details I loved because Ive spent these past months forgetting it,ignoring the feelings. But my heart I guess stil aches a little... Misses the state of mind of being loved. And being a part of something.

return of the ramblin blogger

havent blogged in a while, suppose I was enjoying things too much to complain... or maybe too busy to reflect. eitherway Im back. Been struggljng lately with the realization that some people. Not even mid twenties are already ready to be lazy and set in their ways. that if they know theyre going to get that pay cheque no matter how little they do...  I want to work hard because I love feeling as tho Ive accomplished something at the end of EVERY day. But I also work hard because I feel guilty if I think something is being half assed or left undone. Another reason I do my job well is because I like it. i like getting dirty and scratched and exhaustdd. i like the do the actual handson physical labour required when working with dogs. i also adore the company of these canines. they have good days and bad but theyre never snarky or lazy. they never pass up the opportunity for fun, theyre curious they try new things, new experiemces new challenges. There have really been countless times where Ive wished everyone could be more like our animals, and more like me so that they could understand my drives and we could synch up. but instead im isolated and get spread thin by the extra effort required to do the job the way i think it should be done.

Mental Health

what separates us, what makes us so different. parents who cared, who understood, who were willing to work through our weaknesses? what makes me so much better that i can call the people around me who suffer from mental illness "crazies" and leave myself out. i suffer from the same dabilitating flaws they do but i had the resources and the financial security to get treatment. i grew up in an intelligent and well educated family. i was born to parents who planned for me, who were happy when they received the news of my future arrival, who took all the steps necessary to bring me safely into this world. my mother didn't drink while i grew inside her, she didn't smoke she didn't fight, she fed me well and it shows. my father didn't beat her or blow his smoke into her face. he took her to the hospital for check ups and when i tried to come early. because of their education and their knowledge, disaster was avoided when i tried to come 4 months too early, good doctors and incredible nurses got them through it and i'm here full grown and healthy because of it.

even though i do have depression and adhd and the anxiety issues that come with them both, i've been able to make a life for myself that is healthy and growing. i had the chance to be educated and to gain experience in the real world that some will never get to glimpse. people give me a chance because i don't look damaged, i don't act crazy, you'd never know i've struggled through bits of my life and felt like i couldn't go on. but even then in my lowest of lows i've always had support, had people, afraid or not, tell me they loved me and wouldn't let me check out. why don't we all have that, who can expect people fragile and alone to act as "normal" as everyone else. it's not fair the stigma attached to mental illness, its not fair they're not given the same chances, that they're shunned and criticized because of mistakes made by the generation before.