Just wait, And it will come Wednesday, Sep 2 2009

I have to be the strong one now.

The tables have turned.

worried I can’t hold it together and be what he needs while looking after myself.

In an odd mood. good day, but downish.

I know what makes me feel better, and helps me along.

but it’s hard with another opposite personality.

I want to hold him till its better.

He wants to keep the stiff upper lip.

too much happening all at once.

too much.

“If you think Ive given up on you youre crazy
And if you think I dont love you well then youre just wrong
In time you just might take to feeling better
Time is the beauty of the road being long”

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I will learn to love what I cannot change Monday, Jul 13 2009

Rough week, last week.

went loco. Need to remember that I have to do what the doctor tells me to. repeat “I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. So I cannot give myself medical advice”

things I’ve learned

• I am powerless over my condition
• I need to surrender so I can move on
• It’s taken my almost 2 years to realize this

not a lot on my plate this week. Back to my Nanny gig. Thinking about getting a part-time job to help ease some financial woes, and make some restitution.

Wondering if I’m “too open” about my life. Thinking about shutting up a little more. But I figure if I can be open, maybe it will inspire some one else with mental health and addiction issues that it’s ok to exist, and to start a dialogue.

Didn’t end up quitting smoking, but I think I’m gonna try again. It’s horrible for me, but I’m worried about the weight gain. The last meds they had me on made me gain so much weight that I can’t handle anymore. But I join the YMCA and hope that will help. I need to take this seriously as I did the last time I lost weight. It’s just this time I have about 100 pounds to loose, instead of the 70pounds last time.

I’ll blog about it, as it goes. Keep you (who ever you are ) updated about my progress. might help me a little more.

I look forward to this week. so far so good. fingers crossed.

 

“Right now I can’t care about how everyone else will feel
I have enough hurt of my own to heal”

“I will learn to let go what I cannot change
I will learn to forgive what I cannot change
I will learn to love what I cannot change
But I will change, I will change
Whatever I, whenever I can”

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everything’s gonna be fine fine fine Saturday, May 30 2009

Great meeting.

Goodtimes over coffee.

Full of yummy Indian food.

Rain Pours outside, with a faint rainbow overhead.

Smell of bake goods fills me completely.

Reminicing over homemade cards crafted with love.

“Heaven’s Radio“  dances with the sound of the thunder in the distance.

Clean apartment, filled with new garage sale finds. A little more put together than yesterday.

Thoughts of singing in future.

“It’s been a good day“, she says in her sassy new flip flops.

now to cuddle and watch movies.

Somedays are better than others.

This one was sober bliss

“I’m broke but I’m happy
I’m poor but I’m kind
I’m short but I’m healthy, yeah
I’m high but I’m grounded
I’m sane but I’m overwhelmed
I’m lost but I’m hopeful baby”

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This is our Last Goodbye Wednesday, May 6 2009

So here it is. the end.

I (in normal over dramatic artist style) stared out in to the dark mist of the Toronto skyline. I watched the rain trickle down. (Night rain has always been my favourite) I press play and let the sweet sound of brushes on snare and a mellow trumpet tone bring me to this point. As KD Langs voice starts it’s haunt I light up. I inhale deeply and begin the end.  I zone out from the music and am taken away to a movie like montage of my love affair with nicotine.

I remember dating a jazz singer. I dressed in 40’s clothing, wearing what must have been 100lbs of histoically acurate underwear smoked like a “lady”. I enjoyed that a man was always there to light my thin cigarettes.

I fade out to Vancouver. Standing in front of Hotels, pretending to be this struggling artist who was much more famous then I actually was/am. Getting lost in the rain and smoke in front of mountains.

zoom in on the cigarette, which pans out to Toronto. Sitting on the roof of my first real apartment, having a tea in one hand and a smoke in the other. Writing nonsense stuff using too many metaphors to count. I figured to write well you had to smoke well.

Flashes of different venues split the screen. So many gigs outside , trying to hide from the compliments. Always a smoke with me.

Then in rehab. Trying to fight my Alcohol and drug problem. The only way to escape was smoking. You can bore easily of sharing and crying that you need some relief.  Thats where I really learned to smoke.

I slowly come back to the moment. Like waking from a long slumber. Or coming of  a meditation. The tumpet solo feeds my soul, and reminds me of who I use to be. 

I stare back out into the mist, and sing along.

“This is my last cigarette…….this IS my last cigarette.

We had our moment. We had our time. Now I need to move on and just be me.

Remove all the crutches. You’re healing well. It’s safe to walk now.

Goodbye old friend.

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Sometimes your drug chooses you Monday, May 4 2009

The Diary of a future Non-Smoker,

I’ve had this on and off love affair with smoking since I was in grade 5. A drag here, a stolen cigare tte there. I never thought it would start to catch up to me. While going through some old journal entrys I find an bit from the last time I tryed to quit, that suit the end of the relationship.

“I stare out at the street. I miss smoking.Not the taste, but the fact that I felt like I belonged when I did it. For some reason it was instant comfort. I held my head a little higher, I thought a little deeper, and lived life a little louder.

Why did it take something so bad for me to do that. Normal people can get by without a crutch. why not me?. I think it was the thrill of each drag. The sense of purpose. “In case of akward silence insert cigarette”, “Instead of eating do this”. I always felt in control when one was in my hand. Like it transformed me into some sort of 20’s femme fatale. I wonder why we latch on to these things like this? how one stick of tobacco made me feel so different. I want to hold onto that change.”

It seems to fit right now. The dance that’s happening in my head. I’ve been fighting one addiction for a 1 year and a half, and doing well, really well. why does it seem harder to do this.

oh well. back to day one. I can do this.

I have a habit I have been trying to lose
Everyone thinks that they know what they want
Sometimes your drug chooses you
There are some things that i’ve promised myself
Things I haven’t done yet

It’s my last cigarette
This is my last cigarette

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ch-ch-changes Monday, Mar 30 2009

move in 2 days.

scared.

change is good (so I’m told)

still scared.

I need to have faith, because there are things about it I cannot change. But that’s easier said than done.

Nothings going the way I want it. So I guess that means it’s going the way it’s suppose to.

argh.

Faith…must have faith.

then things can change more in the way I want them too. Back to music, back to the gym, starting on the long road back to me.

scared.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man”

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Till I’m myself again Friday, Mar 13 2009

It’s amazing how a picture can stir up memories.

My Ex just dropped off some boxes to hep me move and with it a couple of my things I has left behind. Apparently, there was a roll of film that hadn’t been developed, so he got it done and gave me the pictures.

They were old band photos. Some from a gig I don’t remember, but I can recognize the songs in each shot. Then there some from a New Years gig we did, which I remember cause I had a hard time figuring out what to wear,(and I was close to a wardrobe malfunction) and we got paid well…which was a new thing for us. (Also the bar closed down weeks later..I guess a fondue lounge doesn’t do well in TO). But there was one photo that really stuck out. It was not from any gig that I remember…but I remember the outfit. The picture brought tears to my eyes. It looks nothing like me now. I showed it to my roommates almost to prove that I use to look acceptable…they didn’t even realize it was me. I was much thinner it the photo (not my thinnest..I actually thought I was fat at that time), I was wearing an actual out fit, my hair and makeup were just so. And there was something there. I looked happy. Not just happy, but content. It’s amazing how sometimes  a photograph can tell you so much, and remind you in your dark moments, that it wasn’t all bad.  I don’t know why this picture has gotten to me. Maybe cause I feel like the shell  of the person I use to be. In my struggle with addiction and mental health problems, I’ve lost pieces of me along the way.  I don;t really know how I fit anymore.  how I use to fit. I’ve lost my music…lost my voice…lost my passion. Somewhere along the way to “better myself” I dropped the things that defined who I was. I keep starring at this picture, and all I can think is…”Who are you”. Sure I was 3 years younger then, but I feel like I had more sense of direction, more stability, more freedom. Hell, I don’t think, I know I did. I stare at this photo and I scour it like it will reveal to me what happened. like some movie montage will begin and thread it all together (with some background music, of course) to show me, where I am now, and where I’m headed.

I think it’s shaking me so much because of the move as well. A lot of change lays ahead. Second chances at a fresh start. And when the dust clears frm the move, I’m gonna put that picture on the fridge to remind myself of what I’m looking for. I know that girl is gone, I just want a part of her back. I want to be able to look in the mirror again.

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mving right along Thursday, Feb 5 2009

A lot has happened.

Ups…downs..super highs and lows.

I’m starting to get balanced on my medication, but the daily struggle of living with a mental illness can sometimes take it’s toll.

Some days I float through the current of the day,  mini projects along the way keep me stable. But others I’m below the water trying to run, and getting no where.

I’m apartment hunting right now, and finding it hard. Really hard. I have a hard time staying focused, organizing, and time management problems. It’s the nature of the beast that is me. So I’m surrounded my pieces of paper with scribbled notes of dates, times, prices, names, addresses, directions….so many things jammed together in chaos.

I’m waiting for my disability benifit still so I live on a very limited buget, and most landlords I’ve come across are frowning upon that. I’ve had problems with my credit and that is only making it worse. I’m worried I might never find a place.

I guess this is karma coming back for me, or something like that.

I wish there was more help for people in my situation.but too many have abused it.

I hate that I am stuck, due to bridges that were burned by others.

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For the Longest Time Wednesday, Oct 1 2008

A good ditraction from life for a bit.

Feel free to play along;

RULES:
1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write down that song name no matter what!
4. Put any comments in parentheses after the song name.

If someone says “is this okay?” you say:
“Dance, Dance”
Great Big Sea

How would you describe yourself?
“Come Undone”
Robbie Williams

What do you like in a guy/girl?
“Ode to a Friend”
Jann Arden

How do you feel today?
“Whinning Teenagers Dramatc Exit”
Matt Osbourne

What is your life’s purpose?
“Rhyme & Reason”
Dave Matthew Band

What is your motto?
“We still need a song” (not a bad motto)
Hawksley Workman

What do your friends think of you?
“Something stupid” (really???…really? of all the songs to come up????)
Frank Sinatra

What do you think of your parents?
“Cold Shoulder”
Adele

What do you think about very often?
“Born to be Blue”
Chet Baker

What is 2 + 2?
“Long Time Gone”
Dixie Chicks

What do you think of your best friend?
“Just Like a Woman”
Bob Dylan

What do you think of the person you like?
“Hurt’s to Love you” (so ironic…crazy)
The Philosopher Kings

What is your life story?
“You Go to my Head”
Billie Holiday

What do you want to be when you grow up?
“Perfect” (wow…that nailed it)
Alanis Morissette

What do you think of when you see the person you like?
“Crazy in Love”
The Puppini Sisters

What will you dance to at your wedding?
“Midnight Train to Georgia” (unless I’m in a coma at my wedding this is a no)
Gladys Knight and the Pips

What will they play at your funeral?
“Hallelujah” ( That would be lovely)
Jeff Buckley

What is your hobby/interest?
“One Night Stand” ( oh man….not since I’ve been sober)
The Pippettes

What is your biggest fear?
“You were Here” ( it’s true)
Sarah Harmer

What is your biggest secret?
“Charade”
Bobby Darrin

What do you think of your friends?
“This Cat’s on a Hot tin Roof”
Brian Setzer Swing Orchestra

What will you post this as?
“For the Longest Time”
Billy Joel

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All I’ve got left Sunday, Sep 28 2008

I feel sewn together. Stiched and restiched. Patches of all shapes and sizes. The treads are loosening. I’m worse for wear these days.

I’m drowning myself in the only vices I have left. coffee, nicotine, and music.

He’s left me again. He’s disease wrapped around, fresh in the warmth were I use to be.

I’m now left to fill up my dance card with rage, fear, tears, self blame and confusion. So many “if onlys” they could fill every entry.   I stare at his things…still lingering with his musk. The smell that use to feel like home, now only waffs of heartbreak.

The apartment so cold. Emtey…like me. I’ve been betrayed, over,, and over, and over, and then some. Money gone, sleepless night, police search, trust out the window. I’m so tired. Just spent on holding it all together. I’ve been fighting my way through this year. This first year of sober/clean hell. I’m so sick of Drama, and pain. I thought the hurting would stop. But now..with not to sink to the bottom of, I’m left with raw emotion.

How did we get from talks of weddings to you moving. How did we get from planning our future, to you running away.

It has always be me running in the past. And the first time I open up and “stick”, I’ve been run away from.

I just don’t want to feel anymore. just for a moment. just for a day.

I see him in everything. Two girls were speaking french on the streetcar today, and I thought I was going to drop to the floor and loose it right there. I bit my lip so hard it almost bled.

They room I sit in was our room.

I glare at your plants. I’ve always hated your plants. Maybe because you took better care of them, then you did of us.

so now, I pack your things in garbage bags. wondering if you’re still alive, and if I’ll ever hear form you again. And beating myself up because I know you. ..I truly know the healthy you.

And fuck you….I love you.

I feel like a surgeon, as I prepare the lastest patch. But this time is different. This time it’s over my heart.

“I’m faking it til I’m pseudo making it
From scratch begin again but this time I as i
And not as we”

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