All This Stuff

Hello world of Blog. Its Sunday night and I find myself dealing with an unwanted guest. Edie has decided that she needs to step into my life today, which has of course left me wondering what I was doing so wrong that she felt the need to pop up and help me out. This is what I have come up with:

It would be lovely if it were a simple solution like "i did this thing today" or "tomorrow i have to do that thing" but in reality I think it started a while ago. If I'm honest with myself (and I like to think I am) I think it started a few weeks ago. Not that Edie has been here that long, just that that is when things started building up, laying the ground work for her appearance. Its not even that anything major happened a few weeks ago. Just that my May term class was ending, and I was coming home again after a few weeks of staying at Crickhollow while work was done on my house. The May term class was a little more stressful than I had anticipated, or maybe it was just as stressful as I had anticipated but I wasn't as strong as I had hoped. I'm really not sure. Either way, it was taxing.

I was really hoping my May term class would end when the class ended. Instead I am STILL working on my final project for that class. And on top of that I have started meeting with my phonology professor to work on finishing the Incomplete I took this spring. Turns out I still hate phonology. Even when I understand it, even when it makes sense to me, I hate it. Even just looking at the data for a problem-set kicks my anxiety into gear. When I walk away from it, even when I have solved a problem well, I feel dragged out, worn out, empty and sad. Even just writing about it bums me out. I know there is a point to it. I know there are people who put this study to good use. I, however, don't give a shit. I think this is what bums me out, that I have to do it even though it means nothing to me. I have to put a lot of mental energy into it, and I don't get anything back, not even the satisfaction of solving a puzzle.

On with the list: My mother. It seems she is always on the list of reasons Edie pops up, this time is no exception. I made a skirt, a beautiful skirt that I am very proud of, and I emailed my mum about it because she is the one who taught me to sew and our shared love of all things crafty and hand made is one of the last things we have in common. And, since I am being totally honest: I wanted her to be proud of me. I probably wanted her to see that I don't need her, I wanted to show her the personal touch I had put on the skill she had given me. I wanted to show her myself through a lens she could understand, since I can't show her much of myself anymore. I didn't hear from her for a while. I was starting to wonder if she was mad at me for the beautiful thing I had made, if she was jealous, or somehow else crying about it. (I know it sounds crazy, it is, she is) Finally she got back to me, she left me a voicemail saying she couldn't open the photos I had sent her on her phone, that she had been visiting my grandparents and that my grandma had had some kind of medical emergency the night before. She didn't elaborate, didn't bother to give me anymore details than that, and admonished me for not visiting them enough. So instead of the pride and praise I had been looking for, I got guilt and worry. Awesome. (the lesson here is don't do things because you want a particular response, don't expect much from people, especially the crazy ones)

Next up: the renovations. I hate renovations. I stayed at Crickhollow for a few weeks, which was alright, I love the Crick very much. But its not mine. I don't live there. I was/am so glad to be back to my bed and my room and my cat and my stuff. I'm so glad to be here in fact that even when I knew there was going to be some potentially noisy stuff going on in the morning I opted to tough it out. But if I had known there would actually be more loud mornings than not I would have grudgingly packed up my shit again and headed back to St. Paul. I did not know this though, so I was left with a few good nights sleep, and mostly a bunch of shitty nights sleep. I don't do well without sleep.

So I'm back to Crick for a few days starting tomorrow, and then my aunt and uncle are in town, I adore them, but it means another week of not sleeping in my bed, also a week of being social. I'm really tired of being social. I feel like I haven't had a moment to myself for weeks. Which is sort of true, but partly just because a lot of the time I do have to myself is full of school and other shit I don't want to have floating around my head. What I really want is a goddamned summer vacation! I want some time to lay around and play videogames and knit whatever the hell I want and design and make skirts and read all the books I haven't had time for.

So all of those things combined make a sort of perfect storm for Edie to step in. I'm feeling boxed in and like I need to rebel somehow, so here she comes, giving me a way to rebel, to express myself and my frustrations. The trouble is, I'm the only one who gets hurt by this rebellion. She wants me to slow down, she wants me to take some time for myself. She wants me to stick to my guns and tell people I don't want to do things when I don't want to do them. She wants me to ask for what I need. And she is right. Which is why I am at home writing this tonight rather than out at a movie with a friend of mine like I had planned. But there are some things that I can't have, even if I ask for them. For example, I can't not finish phonology. I can't make the carpet guys come at 4:30pm and work until midnight or however long it takes them to finish. There are always going to be things I don't want to do, but have to do anyway. Edie and I need to work out some kind of plan for when this is the case. Not to worry, I'm back at the Emily Program again after a month long break. I'm so glad to be back I can barely stand it. And it looks like its just in the nick of time too!

I'm supposed to be in class...sort of

I'm supposed to be in class. But I'm not. I'm worn the fuck out. For the last few weeks Edie has been nibbling away at my meals. She has been taking such small bites that it has been easy for me to ignore them. I have been able to rationalize it and pretend it isn't happening. But it is. And today, it caught up with me. If you give her an inch, she will take a mile, and I didn't have a mile to give.

I made it through my first class alright. And I made it through most of lab by the skin of my teeth. I had to walk down the street to get lunch and as I walked I felt myself leaning on my bones. Never a good sign.

You know how sometimes the universe comes to your aid when you need it? smoothing the way and making things easier for you? Well, sometimes it does this in an unexpected way. Sometimes it throws obstacles at you to get you to go the other way. Today felt like one of those days. I made it to the restaurant (barely) and it was packed with people. I have never seen it so busy. When I am at the end of the end of my rope all I want is to be alone, or as alone as possible; So being in a small room packed to capacity with the music blaring wasn't ideal. After ordering I was forced to stand around waiting for my food. I desperately needed to sit, but there wasn't a single open seat, so I stood until a seat opened up and when I finally sat down a big crowd of very big loud men came in. Not good. I was just trying to make it out without freaking out, and once I did I realized there was no way I was going to make it to class tonight. It was just out of the question. Thank you Universe for forcing me to take a night off.

I sat outside and ate a bit, I was that hungry that I couldn't make it the 4 blocks back to school without eating something. I'm now sitting in the STSS building (my home base at school) on the floor eating and writing this. According to the University I should be in class. But according to reality I should be exactly where I am. Taking care of myself.

Someday I'll be Dancing Circles Around Her

As part of my full life reboot I have moved into my childhood home with my childhood dad and all my childhood issues, behaviors and habits. It has been a tough transition for me. I am mostly able to think of it less as 'moving back in with my parents' and more as 'doing what I need to do to take care of myself' but still, its tough, a big change. As part of this big change I am still trying to figure out how best to fit my apartments worth of stuff into my one bedroom.

I never lived in a dorm room (I skipped that part of the college edperience) but I imagine my room looks a bit like a dorm room might. It is packed from floor to ceiling with all my worldy possessions. The closet is packed (mostly with yarn) to the spilling point. The only furniture is my bed, my desk, chair (a relic from my childhood), the bookcase (also packed to the spilling point), my dresser and a few milk crates which serve as my bedside table as well as storage for more books, art supplies and knitted things which are waiting patiently for winter to come around again.

One of the nice things about moving is realizing what is actually important to you , what you clearly value, for example, I didn't realize just how many books I own until I had to pack them and then find room for them all. I apparently also have a liking for black boots (I own 4 pairs). I'm not even going to go into the yarn and knitting supplies (although I should mention that at least a quarter of my books are knitting related), of course there are the art supplies of all types, and my cd collection is much larger than I had thought it was.

You are also given the opportunity to cull your belongings, you come across things you realize you have no use for, no desire to own. I let my fabric collection go to goodwill (when did I really think I would find the time and patience to learn to sew?), I took a bag of books to the used book store (I took store credit of course, who needs cash when it will all be coming back to them anyway?)

But there are some things I cannot let go of quite yet, some of these things have just gone into storage (cook books, momentos), but some of them I keep close to me. Things like my dance shoes.

You would think that a pair of shoes wouldn't be such a big deal, but dancing is one of the things that Edie (where are my manners? World, meet Edie, my eating disorder. Edie, this is the World, none of them like you, get used to it) has taken away from me. I used to dance, before i got sick, and I had just started to get back into it, and realize it was something I actually enjoyed when Edie showed up. For a while I thought I could have both Edie and my dancing, but I was terribly mistaken. So as Edie took on a bigger role in my life my dancing took on a much smaller role until one day, I looked over at my dance shoes and realized they were covered in dust and I didn't have enough strength to brush them off.

I refuse to put these shoes in storage. In fact they are not even shoved to the back of the closet, they are sitting where I can see them every day. I don't want to forget about them again, and even though I cannot use them to batter out the once familiar rhythms like I used to, I can still use them as weapons against Edie. And someday when she has faded like an old girlfriend into the backdrop of my life I will pull those shoes out and step up to be the woman I knowI can be.