I suffer from depression, and anxiety.
I have good days and I have bad days. Or what I like to call my bad brain chemical days.
On my bad days, I don’t even feel close to myself. I’m a ball of emotion, none of it logical or rational.
I can tell what I’m feeling isn’t me, isn’t what I want, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I sometimes get trapped in a spiral of thinking, where I know I’ll feel better if I do x, but I can’t do x because I don’t feel up to it.
A good example, today, I sat in my car in the parking lot at the grocery store for almost ten minutes crying, because I knew I needed to go inside to get my meds, so that I would start feeling better, but I couldn’t get out of the car because I couldn’t get out of the car. Eventually I was able to power my way through it and get my meds, and sure enough about a half hour later I started feeling better. But it was one of those situations where everything I needed to do to feel better made me feel worse.
There are days where the only way I can get through and do what I need to do is through sheer force of will.
I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m not looking for anything. I’m just sharing a truth about myself. If you see me, and I’m quieter than normal, there’s a good chance I’m having a bad brain day. If it seems like I’m snubbing you, or something like that, I’m probably just having a bad brain day, and all I can do all at that point is to keep going, to keep putting my feet one in front of another.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sit down and write.
I’ve wanted to, I’ve had those thoughts, those urges and needs to put pen to paper and let the characters and the world take me over and spill out into the world.
But I can’t. I haven’t been able to. Every time I’ve gotten out a notebook, or opened up my laptop, the blank page or screen just stares back at me and everything goes away.
Its not that my mind isn’t still creating worlds and people for me, they’re just coming through my dreams instead of my writing.
I want that ability to become the writing utensil for the worlds in my head, have them flow so easily. Like they used to.
But now, everything comes so hard. I come home from work and my brain is fried, I can’t think creatively or open myself to the words. I’ve had to shut it off while I’m at work.
I’ve been hoping that things will be better and that I won’t have to resort to such measures to be successful at work, and that I will have my writing back.
I’ve felt kind of hollow without it, but knowing there was nothing I could do about it was the most distressing thing.
I see people following their passion in their work, doing what they love, and even when things are tough for them, they still have the satisfaction of knowing that what they do, they do for their love of it. I haven’t had that. I’ve had a job. Something I have to do to make money so I can live my life. Hopefully things are going to be getting better soon, and I will have some more joy in my job, or at least not just tolerate it. And therefore, I’ll be able to still follow my joy, and let the words take me, make me their vessel.
(Yes, I know that’s very woo woo, but when I’m in the zone, when I’m really feeling it, I’m not writing, not actively, the words are just coming to me, and all I have to do is type.)
So… It’s been a while since I posted.
Amanda and I are getting married!
I proposed the first of the year, and we’ve been busy planning the wedding.
She’s ordered her dress, when I bought her engagement ring it came with a band, we just bought my band today, she’s ordered the flowers, we have a photographer, a dj, an officiant, venues for the ceremony and reception, wedding party, invites, a cake has been ordered, and we are in talks with a caterer.
It’s all going well, as far as I can tell, I usually just nod and agree.
Life is pretty good.
Even though things have been crazy and chaotic, and we haven’t really gotten a chance to spend as much time together as we would like, I feel incredibly happy, and more in love with her every passing day.
I feel so lucky.
So expect more gooey adorableness in the near future.
Cause life is pretty great when you have an incredible fiancée like I do.
By all legal definitions of the word, I am an adult, in America, I have been for almost 9 years. And yet it has only been in the past couple months that I’ve actually felt like an adult.
I’m in a stable, long term relationship with an incredible girl who I adore, who adores me, who wants to share her life with me.
We share a home, not just an apartment, but a place that feels like a home, where I can’t wait to go every day after work.
Speaking of work, I have a steady, full time job, that I don’t loathe. It’s not perfect, but it pays the bills, and it’s the longest I’ve had a full time job. So because I’ve been employed, I’ve been able to pay my own bills on my own, and have a little extra spending cash. I’ve been saving up for a fairly big purchase of the shiny variety.
Yes, we’ve gotten into a routine, we go to work, we come home, she cooks us dinner, sometimes she goes to class, sometimes we just spend time together.
We go to parties. We go to events. We have people over. We go on dates. Our lives are fairly simple. But I haven’t been happier or more fulfilled in my entire life.
Even when I’m doing laundry, or the dishes, or cleaning the apartment, I still feel that warmth that comes from incredible happiness and contentedness.
We had 12 people over for Thanksgiving recently. Part of our extended family of choice. I told Amanda that even though it was stressful getting everything ready and cleaning up afterwards, I had that full fridge feeling with everyone over. That feeling of it’s twelve below outside, it’s blowing snow, and you have a full fridge and nowhere you need to go except curl up with a blanket and your significant other.
It’s an incredible feeling.
Apparently, I’m growing up. I don’t feel sad about that, because I have an incredible better half who I want to spend the rest of my life making happy.
The ruling overturning the Defense of Marriage Act by The Supreme Court of the US this past week was a joyous occasion for many people.
But not for me.
Yes, it is a good thing.
Yes, it is a step in the right direction.
But for me, what it does is make it infinitely more clear how much of a second class citizen I am in my own country.
In a country that is supposedly the ‘land of the free’ and the ‘home of the brave,’ where all people are meant to be equal before the law, I am not.
I can still be fired for my sexual orientation.
I can still be denied housing because of my sexual orientation.
I still can’t stand up in front of my friends and declare my love legally and have it be valid and recognized everywhere.
(Except that this in violation of the interstate commerce clause in the constitution,which makes legally binding contracts drawn up in one state valid in another, but that’s a different story.)
My mother told me I should see it as a victory because things are better than they were when I came out in high school. Yes mom, they are, but each of those ‘victories’ also made me sad, or made me angry, much for the same reason.
When the ruling came down, I felt small. I felt rejected. I felt like I was a small child being told ‘okay so here’s a small concession on our parts now shut up and be quiet, the grown ups are talking now.’
But what frustrated me more, was the incredulity on the faces of the people who were shocked to hear I wasn’t celebrating. It feels to me that most people believe that any progress should be greeted with loud celebration and applause; but for me that just drowns out my anger and tears.
I still loathe the fact that things that many take for granted, has to be ruled on by the highest court in the land.
I’m not any more different than most people.
I go to work.
I come home.
I spend time with my friends.
I pay bills.
I pay taxes.
I am queer, and I share my life with a woman. At this point my country slaps me across the face with the fact that I’m not entitled to the same rights and protections that as a citizen I have been promised.
Land of the free, home of the brave, my ass.
She asks how she is beautiful, and I cannot answer.
How can one tell a sunset which colors to use to paint the sky?
Some things just are designed to be beautiful, to glow with luminoscity their spirit demands of the world.
We as mortals only can fail to put words to the beauty with which we are blessed.
I could tell her it is her eyes, and how they express her innermost thoughts and feelings as if they were ink on a page,
or her smile and the delicate curve of her lip as she graces me with a smile,
or of the swell of her breast, or of the curve of her hips, or of the hundred of other things that are but a fraction of what makes her beautiful.
Because what makes her beautiful, is who she is.
Something so simple to explain something so complex.
She is so outstandingly beautiful because she is who she is.
Her beauty is not constrained by physical limits, but transcends into the ether, creating warmth and love to those lucky few she deems worthy of it.
Her beauty is beyond words.
I look at the things in my life, especially in the past three months, and see how much I have grown and changed as a person.
Three months ago, I had just started seeing this awesome girl who has totally captured my heart.
We were just getting to know each other, the shine was still super shiny. Nothing but the best side was shown.
Three months later-
I’m even more in love than I was then, the shine is still super shiny, and we’ve seen bad, good, crazy… the whole gamut of things. And the shine is still super shiny, the love is just as abundant and consuming…
My heart has been captured and held hostage and I don’t mind in the least.
Yes, I know I’m being sappy.
Yes, I know that it doesn’t necessarily sound like me.
But I am consumed.
Consumed by the depth and breadth of my feelings, of my love, of the entrancing nature of Amanda just being herself.
I find myself staring at her whenever possible because she captivates me.
I sometimes wonder what I did so incredibly right to deserve someone as incredible as her in my life.
Because I am so incredibly lucky to have her.
She moved in with me yesterday.
Long story that led up to that, but she’s moved in.
We’ve not spent a night apart since the second week we were dating, so it was almost like we were living together anyways, but now it is official.
Last night we were on the couch watching Downton Abbey, enjoying the snow falling, and just cuddling. And I kept finding myself watching her instead of the tv, because it felt so incredibly perfectly right. We were there on the couch in OUR apartment, watching tv together, cuddled up under the blanket, and soon enough we would go to bed in OUR bedroom, and sleep in OUR apartment for the first time since it became OURs versus mine.
In the past, with former relationships, I always had a small voice in the back of my head that kept me wondering if everything was as rose colored as my glasses made me believe it was.
There is no voice.
Not with her.
I never doubt the intensity of my feelings, or her love for me.
Despite the fact that it can seem like we are moving really quickly, it never once has felt rushed, it has always felt like this was how it was meant to be.
I can’t ever tell her enough how much I love her. And those three little words don’t do justice to my feelings. And despite being a writer, I can’t find words even close to adequate.
There are some aspects of our relationship that many of my friends and family don’t understand, but those are some things that I have discovered are essential not only to our relationship, but to who I am as a person. (More on this at the page with the people and the things.) And she introduced me to a whole community of people who DO get it, and who have embraced me completely as family.
I find myself doubly lucky.
Not only did I get the girl, I got her community as well.
And despite all of the changes that might seem drastic and unconventional that many of my friends might see as unlike me, I know that I am growing into who I have always meant to be.
And I have her to thank for that as well.
She has given me the room to grow, to explore, to be myself. She never judges, she never tries to make me into something that I am not, and she loves me, just as I am.
We’re both incredibly lucky to have found each other because just as we are, we drive the other one fucking crazy and have fallen in love with each other, dorkiness, geekiness, kinkiness, and nerdyness and all.
There are no rose colored glasses…. because everything already looks pretty damned shiny without them.
The picture I saw from http://www.mirandasuri.wordpress.com today –
got me thinking, and inspired this post. So thanks Miranda. In this case, I’m not sure it was exactly 1000 words, but definitely inspired many words.