11:10 p.m.||||2002-07-29
I'm stranded.
Yes indeed, been cast out. (Read: Gories)
My guitar is over at Alex's house, otherwise I might sit and write a ditty about despair.
It's just been a really depressing week on top of depreciated hopes.
That's this summer's theme.
All I really want is an overriding sense of self worth and I do..not...feel...worthy. I feel spent.
There's SO much facing me that I am "playing my tapes"...feeling unbalanced and sort of surprised to find myself, well, inside myself, and with the same feet. Something about my feet brings about that moment of recognition - when you look in a mirror and see that you are not some blank internal dialogue, but you, that same you that stands there, in different incarnations sometimes, but you.
Driving Julio to work we had weird moments - one where it started raining so hard I was afraid to drive and then needed to explain why I stopped but given by him the silence that drives me nuts. And I started talking about how I can't really tell him anything about how nuts I am trying to figure out how my family of this tiny three really works, because his reality and experience of the truth of the relationships that define us really is so different than my own. He wondered why I don't feel free to express the shit that defines my entropy - because he's a single, childless, male friend.
I'm having trouble making sense.
There's no-one I can really talk to about certain things.
And I'm in such a different place now that I feel forced to let go of things that don't work. Except that I feel so insane lately that I don't trust myself to make good choices. I feel like every decision I have to make is a matter of survival.
We are moving in with Dave's mom at the end of the month. We don't have rent for this last month. My job leaves a hundred a week after daycare. That hardly justifies putting my reluctant baby in daycare (he is still sick as shit from the cold he caught three dyas into it last week) while I go to this great hall of numbers to open two thousand letters a day. Insane.
Then, school starts, and while I am confident about this first part of my certification, I do not believe that this alone means employment, and I am freaking out because realy, I need a bachelor's in graphic designt o do what I want. In order to learn what I need to to, I would have to go on a sort of sabbatical. I doubt there's enough time in the days ahead to make up for the lack of years worth of experience. I'm afraid I'm making yet another costly mistake, because, looking at my resources, which would include good mental health and full, localized familial support and freedom to do the actual work, I don't see how it can happen. I feel like I have nothing to fall back on but delusionary hope.
I really need a lot of reassurance - and that's what I mean by playing my tapes. I'm made for self-sabotage, because I cannot believe my own hype. There's always a catch.
I went to an anti-nuke rally the other day and was completely, anti-socially crippled.
Oh yeah, I lost my medicaid and Josh's in a series of frightening events, but then was sent a letter today that said he was still approved - ?! I am sick of being caught in this bureaucracy (sp?) of government funded crap, and yet, this is the only time in my life that I ever had decent health coverage. It's so fucking confusing. I mean, the red tape. I'm in a quandry about what all else I have to send them paperwork wise, cause honesltly, I am sick of it. See? I have a weird feeling that I'm functioning very incorrectly. At any rate, Paxil is out of the quesiton, as it appears only Josh has benefits now. And I'm very confused as to how one day sent mail that said you fucked up and neither shall be covered and today brought mail that says, ok, child is covered...ased on the same shit I already sent, which was inadequate and badly handled. I am waiting for them to sure me too. You know, get in line, right?
OK.. So we live near a giant nuclear plant that several months back had the biggest accident in it's (and probably Northwester Ohio's ) history, and NOW is the time when the protests over this site gathers strength, because the plant is closed at the moment, leaving tons of waste to be routed elsewhere, hmph, but we're functioning without it, but it's still sitting there, and yadda yadda and so on and so forth. You really have to see a rally in this town to appreciate why it's best minds are so often bitter, albeit devoted. In the face of those activists, I guess I'm the asshole, but I have yet to be at a rally that makes any fucking sense.
I am, however, in a hell of my own making, and I'm sorry if it's been decades since I installed the first of my major coping mechanisms for adulthood: skepticism on a level which apprently pre-empts me from trusting any gathering which has political undertones....
Anyway.
There, I saw my first boyfriend, Keith, the one who was "Scott" to my "Zelda" back in the late eighties, when we were both ripe children of eighteen.
He's a political campaign manager, among other things..law student, dead ringer for wrestling coach. He was also the lead guitar player in my third and most famous band "Autopilot". (Aside: think "the Fall" meets "th' Faith Healers", influenced by shoe-gaze, but more significantly, punk, with shades of Sonic Boom via a buncha other shit, but with guitar riffs influenced primarily by gutsy blues - I could go on and on. Suffice it to say, we had an organ and the last two songs we did sounded to me like the theme to a spy movie if it were written by the Cohen brothers, produced by Albini. HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH)( And all the songs were about the redundancy of making the same mistakes repeatedly in the arena of love and drugs. Boring, I know.)
So yeah.
And a buncha other rockstars showed up to the nuke rally, and we all sat apart from each other, and the vegan food sucked ass.
The best part was hearing Gary Murray from LN play a teeny tiny acoustic set, realizing that although I have seen this dude around forver - he was friends with guitar player in my last and final band, Streamlined, forever -
and relaizing that not only does he write cool, low-fi songs, and has the voice of a more subtle Chris Isaac, he is also, interestingly, on a Christian label. You never do know.
I must go - my back is killing me from when I accidentally slammed it in the door of big Johnny's hoopty car in the way out there.