sometimes, you want the anonymous blog.
I have been having trouble sleeping enough, falling asleep and some night staying asleep, since last fall when everything went nuts at work. I've been doing better, not using ambien much, making 30 pills stretch 3 months or close, but tonight, for some reason, I cannot sleep and I don't want to take anything.
I know writing will relax me. it always does.
my theory is actually this: since my ocd is under much better control, I am not really clinically obsessing, or at a low level anyway, the emotions I used to regulate with that disorder, or that used to be regulated, whatever, are springing out in new ways. trouble sleeping is the new thing. I don't have an egregious problem, I think, though I may have to talk to my doctor about better meds for it, hope not.
and I am exercising again, and feeling much other times. I can discuss parts of my childhood, and the associated feelings, in ways I could not before. I know I did the really hard work, the ass falling off work, in the early 90's when I had a series of major depressions. this, compared to that, is amateur. but it is real, and vibrant in a way those depressions were not. then, seriously depressed, I didn't even know why I was depressed, let alone connect it to childhood experiences.
now, I can see much more clearly. and it all makes pretty good sense, my life struggles in light of how I was raised and not raised. more on that later.
so, I'm doing okay, actually consider this an improvement and a time I am growing in my marriage, at work, and emotionally. I have set aside the idea of the priesthood for the next few years anyway as my son goes to school, maybe set it aside for good, I can't say, more on that later too. so spiritually I may not feel as strong, or consistent, or focused, but it seems in every other way I am growing, healing, even if right now I am up far too fucking late and need to go to sleep.
one thing did happen while I was out here, maybe an hour ago, wasting time in facebook. I found my high school girlfriend's page and picture. oh, gosh. what a story that is. we broke up over a teacher, my first mentor in literature, hitting on her and trying to date her; he was 20 years older. and I moved on, fast, to find another girl to lean on. but, what will I call her, Kathy? Kathy was awfully cool for a teenager. and I have to say, seeing a couple of pics of her, she must have sold her soul. she looks amazing, truly. it was bittersweet, that crooked smile. I can even now hear how she sounded.
we were together over 3 years. it has been so long now, more than 25 years ago, and she found a nice guy soon after and has been married to him since, has 3 boys, one just married! wow. but her family took such good care of me then, she feels even now like family, like a long lost sister (sort of). I don't have any actual exes on facebook and I like that; I don't think I'll ask to add her, who knows, but I'd like to email. I saw her before we moved north, around the time I got engaged to my wife.
anyway, yes, feelings there.
after I saw her, again more than ten years ago, when we had lunch before I moved north, I went through a few heavy days, and I remember thinking: we could not have worked out, the major depressions of my mid twenties would have been too much pressure. but you know, maybe, but estella, years around/with her, and then our disastrous marriage, were contributors to tha depression. kathy and I might have been okay; she would have loved me sincerely, I think.
sometimes, well, I don't know.
my marriage now is a pretty good one, our dating years were great, my wife and I continue to grow and she is educated, smarter, we share more interests than I think kathy and I could have. but damnit. how can she look better than she did 12 years ago? smiles...the camera maybe. I am very glad she is happy and has done so well. and we can never go back. I'll wait a bit until i can send her a nice, mellow message. I tend to spill my guts with old friends and sometimes freak them out, I think.
anyway, 30 years later, I think I look better than I did when we dated, hah. but oh, she was a dear one and a dear friend. we were too young, too poor, and my ocd began in earnest, took control, over events in my family life while I was with her. but of everyone I dated, she was the kindest, the only other real match in the bunch besides my current wife. estella was one long train wreck cloaked in what i thought was holiness.
now, I am off to bed. you see, a few minutes of writing (and I type pretty fast, hah) and I feel better. I think this blog is again changing. I have facebook, even a select group within facebook, but baby there ain't nothing like anonymity.
work really is going well. I have catapulted into leadership, using my gifts in what feels like a sustainable pace (let's hope) and feeling emotionally ready to lead there. leading on campus interests me, the issues and ideas and challenges and problems interest me.
oh kathy. if I had time I'd write a poem about that sad and sweet time, the fun we had, then the loss, my illness rising to swallow us both, and the betrayal by a trusted man, the many many years and all that has happened since.
now, love to all out there. it is 2:40 in the fucking a.m.
this is now official recovery blog. uncensored. I'll change the header soon. when I think of it I'm turning off comments and plan to use this as I am using it now. the polished me lives elsewhere.
I do know, though, a few old friends will find this eventually, and this share is dedicated to all of you. where would I be without support in my life?