Tuesday, March 24, 2015

And Back Down

I've been riding a high for 1-2 months and grateful for it. I've been growing and feeling steady.

Then, of course there's a down.

And oh, oh how down that down is. It's puke-yer-guts-out-and-choke-on-tears down.

I don't have to to scrawl on about that, though.

Today I was sad. Doing that thing called being sad.

And then I realized I have a kickin' rad support team and that made me cry the super-great kind of tears (while listening to "Take On Me" by A-ha). I have friends who are there for me in the fullest and, for that, I feel so grateful.

For every bit of smallness I feel right now, my friends are saturating me in love, and that is lovely.

Last night I was able to call Megan. When frozen, I sent texts but was stuck. Finally, I got up, got in my car, and called her.

"Can I come over?"

She welcomed me there to share a bed for the night. I wasn't going to be alone. She clothed me in the fuzziest of pants and shirt and stroked my hair and helped talk me through things. I know she's there for me today hour by hour.

Marni was there for me today.

Today my friend P asked if I was mad at him because I wasn't responding to anything. I quickly assured him that it was nothing of the sort. On the contrary, I'm absolutely overwhelmingly grateful for him. I told him I was sad

"Hmm... Do you need company? If so, I am completely free tomorrow after work. I have the yoga class tonight from 6 to 10. I'd like to go, but I am able miss it if you need someone this evening.
I also have soup, but it's not incredible."

We talked a bit, made plans for the next day but the, here's what really made me feel loved and like I was truly being taken care of.

M: Yoda is cool.
M: I feel likea srupid puking puddle.
P: Alright. Let me know if you change your mind. My phone will be on till 5:50. I hope you're able to find peace this evening.

He let me know that, even after I said I was good for the night, if I changed my mind, he was there.
I know that if I go back to Marni's house or need her, she's there.
If I need Megan, she's there.

And if they weren't there, I'd still of A, A, M, M, I, S, J, L, C....

I'm not alone.
And I know this.
In all of this, I know I'm not alone and I'm oh so, so, so grateful for that.

Hopefully on the other side of this hill, I'll see that I can handle the lows, and that will be empowering. Hopefully, this won't be a huge set-back. Hopefully it will be growth. Thankfully, on one side, it's saturated in love and I know I will be ok.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Daniel in Seattle

Every once in a while, I have the pleasure of meeting someone I met on the road.

And, more often than not, that someone is Daniel.

"As I staggered back from a frigid walk outside in St. Paul and through the coach cars to the Observation Lounge, I commented out-loud something about reading a book.

“Which book?” someone asked.

And that's how I met Daniel."

March 22, 2013

I met Daniel on the train to Chicago.

That would've been that, but then I ended up getting stuck in Chicago for a night and a day and, after spending this much time with the guy, he was written in the Great Book of Friends.

A few weeks later, we reconnected up in Portland, Maine.

Since then I hadn't seen the fellow up until this past weekend. He was going to be in Olympia for a day or two and, well, Seattle just a wee bit beyond that.

At around 11 AM, he showed up on my doorstep. Voila! There he was - the same happy grinning man I had last seen in Maine.

His friends had driven him there and our schedule was at their mercy. They went one way and we went the other. It was a few miles to one of my favourite parks.

In that time, we got to reconnect.
It was absolutely lovely.

And just as we reached the park, it was time to head back so he could catch his ride home.

Daniel is someone I hope sticks around in my life because he gets it. In my travels, I visit friends who are stationary --- it's nice to have friends who can relate.  He's got goals and he makes them happen. He's got stories and a knack for sharing them.

And that's that.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Introducing Judah :: Car #4

Well, we're on car number four, now. For someone who hates driving, that's a lot of automobiles.
For someone who has only had a license for 12 months, that's a lot of automobiles.

There was the Toyota, I've got Tobbit ('81 VW Diesel Rabbit Truck), had I Asher (Subaru Loyale - crashed him on black ice on Thanksgiving).

Now there's Judah - the '97 Volvo V960.

What? Another car?

Tobbit is in pieces, right now. Alex and I took him a part. This is a good thing. Tobbit will be back together soon but he was never really meant to be a city car. Currently, I live in Seattle, a city, and driving Tobbit around doesn't make me feel safe. For someone who is scared of driving and recently crashed, feeling safe is super important.

Judah lets me feel safe.
He's a tank.

And you know why I picked this Volvo?

First -- why a Volvo?

On January 6, 2012, I got to ride in the car of Ethan. Ethan drove a Volvo and was pretty stoked about. He let me know that Volvo drivers are nice and wave to each other. Starting on that day, I knew I wanted to someday own a Volvo.

Three years and two months later, I got one.

So that's why I wanted to get a Volvo.

Second -- why this one?
(I'm watching Taxi and they just mentioned a Volvo)

The back seats fold down totally flat so I can throw in my bike super easy. I can throw in a mattress, no problem. What good is a car if you can't sleep in it or easily take your bike with you wherever you go.

The first day I picked him up, for reals, I got to bike up the Shoreline hill.
Shoreline is the highest elevation point in the Seattle area. I started by the water. That means it was quite the hill to bike up.

It was good.

I feel safe when I drive this car, and I like this. He stops when I push the breaks. He's a good car to get around in. I'll still bike a lot, I like how I feel on my bike, but when I've got great distances to go and biking just isn't feasible or I'm sick, it's nice to be able to jump in and go.

So I wrote to Ethan and told him that I got a Volvo just because of him.

His response a few hours later?

Magi! I'm glad! That's so funny, because I just bought a Jeep today... but I intend to make it clear that Jeep drivers can be nice people too! Hope your travels have been good!

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Commute Solution Found :: It Wasn't Hiding...

View from my current commute.
 I've been a week at the new job on the Eastside. Depending on where I sleep, it's about 10 miles away and not all too convenient.

Tobbit no longer has an engine in him, so driving isn't an option.

I figured that meant I should bus.
So I bussed.
Each day, hours on the bus.

I used to love the bus. I still sort of do... but there's a point when I realize how many hours I'm wasting just sitting. I know I can listen to podcasts and read and it's great and dandy, but just standing there. Waiting...

The worst part, it was making me want to gripe and complain.

General rule of life:
If there is something in your life that makes you want to complain daily, you need to change it or stop complaining. Bam.

I was getting bus sick and getting home feeling drained. My 8-hour-work-day was 11 hours long, including transit, and that's way too much time for this humans.

Luckily, within a week, I thought for a second and came to the obvious conclusion.

Yo... why am I not riding my bike? I do 10 miles frequently, that's no a huge distance.

Here's what I know about biking:

1. It's free.
I've had the same bike for five years, it was given to me by the rad family I was working for, and has cost a total of $130 over the years to keep it in keen condition.

2. It makes me happy.

3. It makes me feel amazing.

4. It makes me feel good about myself.

So why wasn't I riding my bike?
Yesterday, I took the bus to work, but biked home.

Normally, on the bus, I get to weave through a never-ending suburbia.

Yesterday, I hopped on my bike and within two miles, I was greeted with this view:

I was thrown into farmlands and biked 90% of the way along the Sammamish River. The air was fresh, sites were new, sun was shining on me, and I was giddy (despite the ridiculous headwinds).

Solution found.
Problem solved.

Thank goodness I wasn't clueless for longer than a week.

bit by bit

Little by little.

I think it's time to get back into the swing of blogging. It's generally done me a significant amount of good as I organize thoughts. I just needed a break, for a bit, as it felt like a stress and I only blog if I want to.

Blogging, though, is also a habit and one that's easy to drop. It takes a whole lot of time and emotion and I have to know why I'm doing it.

Right now, I think I want to start getting words out there.

They're back-logging in my brain and starting to spill onto Facebook which isn't my favourite platform to hold together word documentations.

I'm going to try doing little blog posts just to push a lot of information out of my brain and hopefully release it.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Water and Biscuits.

Somedays you wake up in a box in a door-well (that's not a word) and then want to still be outside and sit and wander and see lots of trees and then go to a nature talk with Jeff and then eat flaky biscuits from a can and eat coconut ice cream with peanut butter and then sit on a couch and watch Les Miserables while Peter does things in the kitchen with vegetables.

Friday, February 27, 2015


My folks like to wear matching pajamas that my mom sews and then go out square dancing in them.
I like them (both the pajamas and the parents).

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Steps to Falling

I've got a few predictable steps for falling for someone.

1. Meet them.
2. Think they're neat.
3. Realize I think about them more than twice a day.
4. Want to cut them off.
5. Frequently succeed by...
6a. Expressing it to them.
  b. Scaring them off with a two hour shot of drama. Sometimes this must be displayed more than once. Make sure they think you're too outlandish to waste time on. Speeds things along and lets me think that things ended on their terms.
7. Carry on my merry way.


Because I don't want that in my life.
I hate the emotions. They freak me out.
I don't have time for it. I don't need it.

No way I'm falling for that again. No way I'm going to lose myself. No way I'm going to waste my time and thoughts on another nothing.

Monday, January 19, 2015

To Shari's

Went to Shari's today. By myself. With a book. To avoid rush hour traffic. Because that's where my Grandma liked to go. I'm not a fan of their food, but I am a fan of Grandma. She's dead and I miss her. Upon ordering, I broke down and, sadly, not in silent tears but loud ones...
So I was crying, blubbering, single-lady at Shari's. Grand ol' thing was that I felt mighty comfortable with it. My waitress was magnificent and gave me a big hug, called me every pet-name there ever was, and made sure I always had a steady-supply of tea.
Got some good reading in to go along with those good tears.
Other good news is that today I've had four sad cries so hopefully I'm cried out for the day and will have a dry evening.

Tea With Papa Bear

The other Sunday, I was having issues getting out of bed. I tried for two hours and it didn't work.

I felt overwhelmed with guilt and sadness and the world seemed like a bit too much and my bed seemed like a good place to be.

Then, Dad knocked on the door and asked if he could take me out for lunch. I said that tea sounded good.

He took me to Country Village. We had tea and then checked out a few shops.

I got to get little sandwiches, soup, a scone, a tray of desserts (couldn't finish those) and some tea (Prince of Wales).

It was one of my favourite times I've had with my dad in a while - really chill, peaceful, and I felt connected with him. He's a really neat guy and I know, I know he cares about me. I'm floored over and over how he bends backwards, going out of his way to help me out. No one teaches about unconditional love like Mom and Dad.

I'll Sleep Someplaces

I'm in a strange state of limbo, but one that was a few comfortable layers of padding added by the community I have in Seattle.

I think I wrote this out - but I'm not coming back to Alaska right now like I had originally intended. I'm in Seattle for a bit.

The simplest answer as to why could either take the "answer for strangers" approach ("Seattle has more opportunities and I want to go back to school!") or the legit answer ("I didn't do too great handling a car crash and I have a full support team of friends, families, and professionals in Seattle as I try to become more stable."

When you move to a new place, there are two main concerns.

Where you'll sleep and what you'll eat.

Where I feel blessed is that, as I search out those answers, I never, ever have any fear that I won't have them. I can list of a dozen homes, off the top of my head, that would take me in without a minutes notice and feed me and give me shelter. This is not something I take for granted by any means.

I've patched together work. It's nothing solid, yet, but I've been working 30-40 hour work weeks which, to me, is solid enough. Their jobs on my own terms so, if things get peculiar, I can plan to have a day off. If I want to go hiking or camping, it can happen. If I need to go to Bellingham to check out the school up there, that's possible too.

What about housing?

I don't feel I'm really in a place where I can make big decisions like that and, to me, renting a place is pretty huge if it involves a lease which, most places do. I don't feel like I'm in a place where I can commit to community living. I'm checking Craigslist, but haven't especially seen anything that calls out to me. Rather than leap out at a not-so-swell option, I'm waiting for things to fall into place.

So - where do I sleep now?

I could always sleep at my folks' place, but that isn't the best of options. It isn't them. It isn't me. It's us together. We could work it out, but I dont' want to overstay my welcome an it's a complex dynamic that's been weaving together for 24 years. I was at their house for three weeks, which is how long I was supposed to stay with them over Christmas, and I decided it was time to move on. Nothing bad had happened at all and emotions weren't high - everything was chill, but I'd like to keep it that way.

The community of Seattle is loving and they have my back.

I did a post of Facebook. It looked something like this:
   Humans - just throwing this out there. If you (or someone else) need a housesitter near Seattle anytime over the next few month-y-wiles, let me know. I like sitting on houses. And pets. I will pet your cat. I will walk your dog. I will not eat your fish.
   Why? Surprise! I live in Washington again. I'm thinking of renting, but am not totally in a place where settling down to rent makes sense. Life is pretty up in the air. So, between couches, Tobbit (my sleeping bags are being shipped to me from Alaska and I have to prep him for winter-weather in Seattle), and spare-bedrooms, I'll be patching things together. If I can find a swell place to rent for 3 months, I will -- but currently, it's all a bit out of the budget as I work out working, counselling, emotional recovery, and physical recovery. I mean, I can fit it in the budget, but things get tricky with leases and what-not for a person who doesn't know where they'll be on a week to week basis.
   If you know of a room in a chill place, for not too many dollars that don't need a 12-month commitment, let me know. If you've got a spare-room I could inhabit for a week, let me know.
   I'm looking to stay in the Seattle/Kenmore/Kirkland-y area.

Low and behold, people responded. Kind, loving, gracious humans responded, not yelling at me to get my act together but saying, "Yo! We got a couch/room/bed/floor you can use."

I was in a state of limbo last year but, what sets that apart from this is that right now, I have a daily purpose-y job to go to. That's really settling. It's amazing what a small job can do.

Letting other people host me, right now, feels very humbling.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm super lazy and that's why I don't have things perfectly put together. Maybe I'm weak and that's why this PTSD (doc says...) is getting me down.

Luckily, those friends I've mentioned are good at reassuring me that the two above mentioned distortions are just that. They're giving me the space to heal and not shaming me for it.

This week, I've had an upswing for a few days, for the most part. Although that's what it is, swings every few days. I don't know what to expect. I like to think that everything is better now - but that's probably wishful thinking. I'll keep living as if that's how it is, for now, and I'll try to lay out a foundation to rest upon when things flip over the the darker realms that January has to offer.

And what about Tobbit? Why am I not living in my truck?

Two reasons.

1) I have to waterproof him. He's horrible at keeping water out in this one corner I've patched at least four times. Ahhh.

2) Vandwelling involves a certain level of vigilance that I just don't have the emotional energy for. Those small noises in the night would likely cause me to over-think and wonder. I'd rather put my body at absolute safety at night so I can sleep soundly, which is really important.

So who's taking me in, this upcoming season?


But, if I were to strip away the "friendness" and just label how I know them, here it is:
Camp Boat. Math tutor. Contra dancer. Blues dancer. Another dancer. House show. Dancer. Elementary school. Dancer. High school friend's sister. Dancer. Family friend. The Forest. Childhood neighbor. High school friend's family.

I'm intrigued that only one family from the church opened up their house to me.

It's a bit hectic changing beds frequently but I've done it before (yeah.... remember that one year where I changed beds, on average, every three nights?). We'll see how it goes. Hopefully I'll find a place to settle into over the next couple of months.

Or, more likely, I'll have to find another small town to settle in. Rent in Seattle is expensive and for me to live here, I need to learn to work longer hours. I need to work around 13 hours a week to pay for rent, up here. It's almost three times what I was paying in Alaska - at least twice.

Hopefully I'll get Tobbit a bit more ship-shape (that includes rebuilding his engine) and then can sleep in him around here. Honestly, that's the best option I can imagine.

I'm grateful, in all of this.

Limbo isn't my favourite, always, but I'm grateful to feel secure in a community and know that I am safe and loved. That's priceless.

Friday, January 9, 2015


3 year old Margaret with her Dad
For the next two months, I think I only want to hang out with people who are ok if, all of a sudden, I snap and flip and become another human for a while. I want to be around people who are ok with me telling them how much I hate everything and aren't going to try to convince me otherwise, but will remind me of the human they know.

I can try to hold it in, when in social situations, if I go crooked, but that tends to make things worse. I'd rather feel what I'm feeling now in this moment so it can pass on and not build up. Thing is, a lot of people don't really want to see you when you're telling them how much you hate life.

And there's a lot of people I don't want to see me like that. Because what if they can't see that this is.. is...

A dear friend of mine wrote me this, "...And I want you to know that this is trauma. No failure on your part, this is what trauma is like." (thanks Purple Sock)

Which was pretty novel to me.
In all of this, I feel like I'm an awful person.
I feel like an absolute failure.

Why can't I cope?
Why am I not dealing with this better?
Why am I melting down?
What's happening?

And for someone to step in and say, "This totally makes sense, based on what you went through."

I've had two people, in the past four days, see me in full grump-mode. What was sweet was, they let me be me in that moment and let me feel what I was feeling. Goodness, that was relieving. When I didn't have to put on an act. When they let me know they weren't going anywhere and they just wanted me to be honest with what I was feeling then.


Thanks for the encouraging comments, you guys. It really does mean something to me -- a lot. It makes me feel not alone in my head.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Peter, Z-Bear, Hannah, and I on L-Island

Celebrated the first day of the new year (Happy 2015?) by heading to one of my favourite islands.

It was an odd visit.
Not sure how to slant it.

Two highlights:

One was being with Hannah again. It felt good to spend time with her and to see her before her big trip.

Second was wandering around outside with Peter, who visited the island with me. We borrowed a baby for the day and babies are amusing. She napped through much of the hikey-walk-thing.

I didn't see a lot of the folks I care about not because I didn't want to - I just didn't have the time or emotional energy. I'll be going back next month for a more solid reunion.

Hans in Seattle

This familiar face came back to the Mainland with me after my trip to Lopez.

We have an interesting friendship and perhaps one of the more honest friendships I've encountered. I think we both might get on each others' nerves a lot. We tell each other like it is. I get frustrated. He gets frustrated.

We've never really had a normal friendship and within the first few weeks of getting to know each other, things were bumpy -- but they get better.

The first night in Seattle, we went to Dick's after a contra dance.

"Does me being here stress you out?" he asked.
I blatantly told him it did.
I apologized. I was grumpy. It was late at night.

"I've seen you like this before," he told me.

That was quite the statement and one chockful of a lot of comfort. Oh yeah... he's seen me at my worst and he's still here. We both have seen each other in a whole dynamic range of emotions and we're both still here.

A highlight was biking and skateboarding with him down the Burke Gilman. I liked that a lot.


I have about 10 unfinished drafts I haven't made post-worthy.
Or they're not good to be posted.
Up and down and up and down.

Today was a real down.

You guys, I haven't been ok. I've been pushing through and pushing through since the crash and each time I think I'll rest, I keep on running.

I'm so tired.
I'm so done and done with so much.
I feel empty and wasted.

This evening I lost it and went into hysterics. That loud sobbing that takes control of your body, contorts your face, colours your world, and doesn't leave. Where you can just shake and shake and cry and feel like there's nothing left. Over 20 minutes of incomprehensible numbness that isn't numb enough. Normally tears last a minute or two - these seemed to have no end.

I was in the midst of trying to calm down when I used a swear word. My parents found that an opportune time to correct my language as I am currently under their roof.

Folks -- if you ever see me in puddle-form, please don't consider it a great time to remind me not to swear. When I feel great emotions, I sometimes want those words because it's what keeps me from doing the following...

That sent me into a rage. I wanted to knock everything to the ground... so I did. I threw books and glasses and kicked metal boxes and large thingys over. I wanted chaos. I wanted to stop. I didn't know how.

I reached up, grabbed a handful of hair, and yanked and felt a whim of satisfaction that soon dissolved back into hateful anger.

The fury soon subsided into even greater sobs that left me immobilized on the floor, coughing and sputtering on spit and snot.

Mom would come and then leave because I wasn't able to show her I wanted her there. I didn't but I did. But then she held me on the couch and I wanted that.

I'm not doing ok.
I'm not.
I don't know how to get to someplace higher.

For now, I'll keep acting.

I know the internet isn't the best place for this. I know.
This, however, is how I'm used to communicating to a lot of folks. It works. Writing also helps me cope. It helps me reflect. It helps me process.

Morning reflection ---

After I wrote this, I curled up in the studio with a stuffed animal (comfort at it's finest) and fell asleep right away with the lights on. This morning I took an epsom salt bath (something really tweaked my back out yesterday morning and it's been killing me ever since), exercised, and realized I've only gained a pound in the past two weeks to make up for the 9 pounds I lost. This pound was gained after I chugged water, hoping to make the scale read higher.

The number of times I cry, each day, is increasing. I cried yesterday in class (silent-tears, yo) because the teacher mentioned the word "car crash."

I put on a face when I interact with people, but stick around enough hours and I'll crack.

I keep putting myself in positions where I feel responsible for taking care of others, carrying their emotions, sharing their sorrow and stress, taking care of their needs, feeling guilty when I don't feel I can pull things together. I don't feel like I can barely figure out what's going on with me.

This isn't how it was supposed to happen. This isn't how things go.

Give it time, though. I know it gets better - but in that moment you don't see that.

I know this isn't the best thing to throw out to the universe, or the internet. I know, in this day and age of Instagram and Facebook we're supposed to on show the best. I've found, though, that when I'm honest, on here, people are honest back. When I share my sorrows, someone else lets me know I'm not alone in these emotions and that they know what it's like and that they've been there. I find comfort in knowing I'm not the only one. I'd rather my friends see me for where I am, right now, in honesty than keep painting them a portrait of who people seem to expect each time the run into me.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Margaret --- You're Not Alone

 I feel so loved and supported.
And it's crazy.

I am writing this to look at all those nights when I want to moan and say, "I'M ALL ALONE IN THE WORLD!" When that happens, I can come look and go, "Bam! No you're not!"

I am grateful for these friends.
The sort of friends that...

... rejoice with me when I let them know I'm not coming back, because they know it's good for me. I was supposed to work for this family starting soon and I was calling to say, I'm not even coming back to say good-bye. The mom's first response was, "Good!" because she was happy to hear me on a path that made me happy.

... give me an outside perspective. Who talk straight to me.

... are wise and I know I can go to them for advice.

... say, "Hey Margaret! You should just go to Washington and I'll pack up all of your belongings and mail them for you."

... open up their home to me if I'm going to school in Washington.

... send me letters of encouragement when things are rough or even when they're dandy.

... help me understand the world.

... let me visit at ridiculous hours and make me feel absolutely at home.

... go wayyy out of their way to bless me.


Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Over and Under

There are so many things I could write about. So many interesting, amusing, wonderful things worth remembering.

But I'm exhausted.
I'm tired.
I didn't want to get out of bed today.

Lately, I haven't wanted to eat. I've lost about 9 pounds in the past few weeks.
Finally, yesterday and the day before, I got myself to eat.
Yesterday I drink some juices and ate a lot of vegetables... and oatmeal.. and some potatoes and two pistachios. That's definitely progress!

Yesterday, I ran on nothing.
And I feel like I can't even say anything. I can't address any of my hurt and exhaustion because my friend just had a baby and, you know, my anything is nothing compared to that... right?

For the past few weeks, I've been running on empty.

I did finals.
Then, the very next day, I packed for Juneau.

I am here because I care about my friend, her child, child to come, and her partner and I said I would be here. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it.

I barely had the emotional togetherness to hold myself together, let alone support another human -- and other human giving birth. But I said I would. I knew that me forgetting me for just a week or two longer, in the long run, would be better than me taking care of me.

So I haven't taken care of me, not in the full sense. I uprooted my life to live without routine or purpose in Juneau until December 26. In case you're wondering, when emotions are rough, routine is all you have. Purpose is what keeps you going. I felt nauseous about leaving, but I had said I would. So I did.

Thank goodness, the day before the birth, I took a me day.

Well, sort of.

First I went for a walk with this guy. A few nights earlier he had non-consensually done some things at 3 AM. Luckily, I mustered up the energy to ask him to leave. Later, in talking to him, his words painted him as some even more so I should be weary of. But, for some reason, I decided to go for a walk with him, hoping he'd explain and make me feel safe.

He beat around the bush.
He didn't talk straight.
He didn't say anything that helped.

So mid-conversation, I realized that I didn't have to deal with this. I don't have to be around people who are emotionally exhausting me.

"I'm done. You choose one direction to walk and I'll walk the other."

We had been walking to the store. I had been hoping I could coax myself to eat something. I browsed the store for an hour and came away with a box of tea. (side note: I ate today -- I got this!) I went home and locked myself in the house all day. Normally I go to the gym each day but today, I spent most of my time on the floor or in bed. I pulled out a stack of VHS tapes and worked through them, watching films I'd never seen like Hitch (which, I am disappointed to report is not about cars, as I had been thinking for the past 9 years) and Dirty Dancing (which I am not disappointed to report is about dancing!).

I'm glad I took that day off, because I got the call the next morning and was at the hospital all day.

By the end of the day, that nothing I had been running on, well, guess you can get lower. This isn't to say it wasn't beautiful and amazing and I was glad and honoured to be there - this isn't a reflection of that experience, specifically. But it is a reflection to say that I'm not the best with emotions right now.

I called up a friend.
Then, a bit later, I started to get sad as I have lately.

See, I don't think I'll be home for Christmas. I bought a ticket for the day after Christmas, just to make sure I could be there for baby's birth.

Now I'm realizing I'm going to be in Juneau alone on Christmas.
I know Christmas is just another day, but I don't want to be here alone.
Crikey, I don't even want to be in Alaska another day.

It's not that I don't like Alaska, I just feel so exhausted and want to go be with family. I want to go feel secure. I want to go ask my counselor what is wrong with me. I want to see the sun. I want to not feel this way any more. No thank you.

I called up my brother. And then I started to cry.
I wanted to go home.
That guy is amazing, he bought me a ticket to come home two days early.

My Dad and Mom were amazing to buy me a ticket to even come home for Christmas -- I used those tickets to buy the ticket to come home. Apparently I'll be flying first class.

So ready. So eager.
So exhausted.
So tired.
So confused.

I would like to add that this isn't 24/7. I'm not constantly in the depths of despair. Working out helps, routine helps, I was social a few times. Dancing helps. Being around calm, secure people helps. I don't feel hopeless. I know that there will be an end to this. I know I won't feel like this forever. I'm not always walking around feeling sad.

This is just a snapshot of right now and a lot-of-lately.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

WA Move

Hometown Park 2012
I'm thinking of moving to Seattle in 8 days.

As in... moving back to Seattle.
Maybe for seven months

I haven't lived in Seattle for longer than three months since 2011. I know three years doesn't seem like much (it isn't), but in this stage in life, with so much that's happened... goodness.

Where did this come from?


It occurred to me a few weeks ago when I got a job offerish-thing in Seattle (sweet!).

Here's the status update I put on FB a few days ago,

Potential job in Seattle (interview in a few weeks). They want someone who will stick around for seven months, till September! Till SEPTEMBER! Seven months! This could be a good growing experience... or kill my soul? Tempted. Seattle's a nice place, very nice place. I could get into dancing, roller skating, and other hobby-things you can do in a city. Yeah... hobby-things.

Then I added this:

Reasons to Move to Seattle:
1) Dance scene

2) Could hang out with Adam (and Josh and Racheal)
3) Not just "catch up" with friends I've known for a while but not spent time with
4) The food is not as expensive there as every other place I've lived lately (islands and Alaska cost extra dollars)
5) PDX and Vancouver are super accessible
6) 40 hours at ONE place... not trying to coordinate schedules
7) Rollllar skates! I need something to work hard at. Dat'd be fun.
8) Seirm!!
9) Language communities
10) Dude... in one place for a while... with guys my age... I could actually, like, date someone....
11) Music collaborations
12) I feel supported there
13) Wide spectrum of humans to influence me
14) Public transportation!!
15) Can see family more frequently
16) Rebuild Tobbit's engine with Alex
17) Curling
18) Could see super awesome plays
20) The Hill (Hannah)

Not bad, eh?

Since coming to Juneau, I've met up with a few transplants like me. They both expressed a done-ness with Alaska. They're ready to move on. Alaska can be great, but limiting. It's not for everyone. I love this place immensely and it's a nice place to call home, but for a twenty-something, it's not exactly the land of opportunities. Neither of them are in their twenties, but both are people I really respect. They're ready to go. I'm ready to go.

So Seattle.

Originally, I was going to go to Seattle for Day-After-Christmas till January 9, then hop back to Haines for a bit before coming to Seattle. My friend said, "Hey! Why don't you just go to Seattle now and stay. We'll pack up your room for you and ship it down for you!"

And that idea sounded super great
I was feeling weird, before the call. Major stomach ache (stress induced) and crummy.. and I was smiling and laughing and, yes, yes, I want to go to Seattle.

I could have a routine - a life - in Seattle.
I can feel safe, secure.

There's a lot I don't want to leave in Alaska, but I think it's a good time.

For now, I'll just type up this post and not publish it till things are absolute and ready to go.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Reasons I'm Crying

I've been crying a lot lately.
Doctor told me it was most simply described as PTSD and that this crying thing might go on for a month or few.

Here's some triggers, lately.

1) League of Their Own made me cry about four times. One time, it was major body-shaking sobs.
2) Going to church
3) Hearing "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" at church
4) Trailer for the new Annie movie. The part where she jumps on the bed.. I lost it.
5) Biking
6) Saw a little toddler named Margaret on the ferry
7) YouTube clip of four girls who play Matilda getting a Tony
8) Feeling confused with finals
9) Hearing Hillary describe the births of her kids
10) Hearing Dani talk about giving birth
11)  Amy Grant
12) Someone mentioned a pump organ...
13) Searching on Google for "Baby Tucker" and finding this.

Hey! It's all good.
I feel fine. I don't feel down.
I just cry.
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