One More Time

I’ve been blogging for years.  I’ve had a few blogs.  One in particular turned into a political free for all.  It was like I just couldn’t post an article, or quote or opinion that wouldn’t be challenged, often fiercely and often with supreme cruelty.  But then again I also had blogging friends who were great writers and whose opinions I appreciated even if I didn’t agree with them.  Seems most people have gone the Facebook and Instagram route now.  Or Tumblr. Which I totally over my head.  I’m sure there are even newer platforms but I’m just to exhausted to figure them out.

I noticed just now that I started this blog 11 years ago.  My previous blog was started in the early 2000s.   It had a following.  Which surprised me.  And frightened me because I felt obligated in some way to post on a regular basis.  Post for others.  But not necessarily for myself.  I felt I had to be profound, witty and intellectually challenging all the time.

The genesis of this blog was that in 2006 I moved from Brooklyn to the Mid-Hudson Valley in New York.  Not at all the “North Country.”  But my one of my very, very favorite songs has always been Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country.”  So, yes compared to Brooklyn, I am living in the “North.”  And I’m a girl.

My life was not good after my move.  Within months of my move, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Maybe more on that later, maybe not.  My father died in 2009 of Alzheimer’s.  I fell into a very deep depression that really fucked up my work (at the time I was self-employed).  I found solace in drinking.  Drinking a lot.  I joined AA.  I found out that AA (for all it’s good intents) is not for me.  I accept 100% percent Steps 1, 2 and 3.  I don’t accept the high-school popularity contests that seem pervasive in those rooms.  They are not safe for people like me.  Not safe emotionally.  There is a “you’re either with us or you are against us” mentality there.  Or at least that is how it felt.  The women were highly cliquish.

But my drinking days are mostly over now.  I did a lot of damage.  All of it to myself.  I hurt no one else.  Because I had no one else who really cared or was paying attention.  More on that later too.  I stopped working for myself in 2015.  I got a job.  Then that job ended 18 months later.  Then I got another job.  But it was not what I was promised and I left.  Then I got another job and THAT was not what I was promised and ended up leaving there as well.  I have a nice job now.  Challenging.  Not the friendliest place.  But I see it may work for me in the longer term.  But then again.  Maybe not.

So ok.  I’m gonna write.  I’m gonna get it out.  I’m gonna blog not to entertain but to get it out.

 

 

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In the Wink of an Eye My Soul is Turnin’

The Last Thing on My Mind (Dolly Parton)

Its a lesson too late for the learning
Made of sand, made of sand
In the wink of an eye my soul is turnin
In your hand, in your hand
Are you going away
With no word of farewell
Will there be not a trace left behind
Oh I couldve loved you better
Didnt mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind

As we walk along my thoughts are tumblin
Round and round, round and round
Underneath our feet are someplace rumblin
Underground, underground

Are you going away
With no word of farewell
Will there be not a trace left behind
Oh I couldve loved you better
Didnt mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind

Ive got reason a plenty for goin
This I know, this I know
The weeds have been steadily growin
Please dont go, please dont go

Are you going away
With no word of farewell
Will there be not a trace left behind
I couldve loved you better
Didnt mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind

Are you going away
With no word of farewell
Will there be not a trace left behind
Oh I couldve loved you better
Didnt mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind
You know that was the last thing on my mind

One More Day …

Reasons to Leave (PTSD)  … and my long days as a denizen of NYC will be over.  I’m happy and sad.  This photo reminds me that I may finally be over my post-9/11 PTSD.  Yet sometimes I go off into a coughing jag, and think of the debris that may be lodged in my lungs from working and living on Lower Broadway in the months afterward.  Will I end up with some strange variation of mesothelioma or an indeterminate lung disorder one day?  I certainly hope not.  But we’ve all got to leave this world one day.  Maybe that’s how I’ll make my exit.

A Child within has Healing Ways

Catching that Butterfly (The Verve)

As though you were born
And so you thought
The future’s ours
To keep and hold
A child within
Has healing ways
It sees me through
My darkest days

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine

In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams

Something now????
Through life no fun
I want to feel
I want to run

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine

In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly

In my private dreams
In my private dreams
In my private dreams
My lucid dreams
My forgotten schemes
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me
Be with me
Be with me
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me

To be in your eyes
To be in your eyes

Wow, Making Progress

The girl is making some nice progress today!  I’ve sent in a change of address form to DMV for my driver’s license.  I’ve thrown EVEN MORE stuff away.  I’ve started packing my books (I really, really feel sorry for the movers in that regard … I have more books than any other possession … well, perhaps CD’s are a close second), but those little boxes are magnificently heavy. 

So, that’s my update for now.  Seems I may finally get the heck out of this messy dirty dank city after all !!! 

Too Many Lose Ends

So I’ve set the first week in March as when I shall leave my Brooklyn apartment for good.  I haven’t contacted the movers yet.  And I still don’t have a car (can’t afford one at the moment, so rentals may have to do for awhile).  This weekend I am going to make EVERY EFFORT to get my stuff out of my office in Manhattan.  My friend Lou stopped by there yesterday, and it seems my landlord has already emptied the space to show it to some future tenant (my lease is up as of the end of February, so that’s fair; just hope I get my security deposit back).  But the question remains, where is MY stuff now?  Good question, I’d say.  That’s why I’ve GOT get there today.

It’s all too much for me.  I feel like sleeping all the time.  Where am I now.  Where am I going.   My agoraphobia was fine when I had a real home.  For the time being, I have two homes/offices, neither of which function as a reliable home and/or office.  I’m lost. 

So the only REALLY safe place for me at the moment is under my blankets (following a heavy dose of klonopin, of course).