stress, fear, grief

the full moon is returning. i get anxious for it. what if there is cloud cover? what if the new camera stops working? what if whatever is growling out there in the darkness comes out of the stand of trees and gets me? {another story. *sigh*}

i have a quilt in the frame to get finished in time for a young man to receive it before Christmas. what if my hand keeps cramping? what if the double quilting takes me longer? what if i get it to the post office too late? what if the mail is slow?

Build-A-Bear has not called. what if they do not want me? what if i do not ever get the chance to wear the blue blouse and build a bear for someone?

i have a job interview at Sears on Tuesday morning. what if they do not want me?

i have filled out a job application for Michael's Craft Store. what if they do not want me?

i am a f*cking artist! i can type between 78 and 88 wpm. i am detail oriented, meticulous with order, filing, notes, appointments. i have a crazy, off-the-charts memory. though no one who has met me in the widow world would believe me, in the business world i am on top of all my responsibilities. i will get the quilt done and to the post office in time if i have to work 24/7. i am intelligent, resourceful, on task, look for more work to stay busy and earn my keep. i have experience in a number of capacities. i can balance a spreadsheet. i can clean well enough for surgery. i can strategize for multiple problems. i am intuitive to people's moods and feelings. i would never say anything to hurt anyone. i think very hard before i speak. i would be good at customer service.

i have so many skills. why can i not get a job in the real world? my art is my life and soul but i need a steady stream of income. i need it yesterday. i was awesome at the interview at Build-A-Bear. the only thing was that i was not 18 - 21 like the other women were. i had more on the ball and answered first. those girls answered all their questions with the lame-assed, "well, like she said" and pointed to me! ah, nevermind. maybe Sears or Michael's will hire me, but what if they don't.

what if? what if? i am killing myself on the "what ifs."

i want to go home.
i want to go back to where he and i were. but different. i want the financial worries to be gone. i want him to have not had to go out on that last "out of town" trip that took so much out of him. i want to be safe financially. not wealthy. not rich. just safe. i want him to be safe and well. i want to be with him back where we were, haunting the water's edge, scavenging for treasures the ocean tosses up to see if we are paying attention.
i want his hands on my neck and shoulders. see, now that the clock is ticking and it is imperative that i find a job NOW, i work so hard to keep a clean apartment and to get these quilts done and the jeans done. if i am not working on something, if i stop work for the night before 10 PM i feel like i am lazy. i feel terrified that i am failing. and working on any commission work is not bringing me a weekly, or bi-monthly paycheck. i am terrified. i have panic attacks all through the day. it is my second job or i guess i multi-task. sew, send out resumes, fill out job applications, try to breathe.

if he were here we would figure this out together. if he were here i would deeply massage his tired muscles and in turn, he would gently massage my hands. he would deeply massage my neck and shoulders from being hunched over the sewing. if he were here someone would be touching me and i would not feel alone. my children are there and they are adults. thank God. but they are my children and i am supposed to take care of them. at least protect them. how can i protect them from you know who, from life, from everything that money can protect you from without having money? i cannot even take care of myself.
our life was not a fairy tale but it was as close as it could be without the money to feel secure. we loved. we loved each other. we loved where we lived. we loved the people we were getting to know. we loved the storms and the sunshine. we loved the seasons and our walks. we loved being with each other. every day was a blessing and we were working hard to build a future. his deal was falling through but the woman was charged with embezzlement and fraud. she is in prison, but my Dragon did not live to see that justice. he is removed from the pain of that and in a way, i am glad. but then i think about the time he was dying, and i wonder.

was he even cognitively processing? did he know he was dying? was he screaming in a voice no one heard that he could not leave me like this? did he die worried about me? that's when i shatter into a million pieces all over again. i want him to feel like his life was successful. i want him to know i love him and am proud of him. i want him to feel peace. i want him to forget the cruelties of this life and only know peace and relaxation and joy.

i hope Heaven has an ocean for him to be walking beside. and a place like Bearskin Neck. old places where passing time has no meaning.

i have been in a tailspin ever since he died. i am under so much stress, i am so afraid that i cannot grieve at times. i can only miss having him there to comfort me, help me, share with me the trials of life. i can only miss crawling into bed beside him "and all but your presence forget."

i am tired of fighting for a life. i would settle for an existence. i do not need much. my wants are fading with each passing day. dreams are something i write down in long hand in a journal that no one will see. trying to capture and keep hope close is like trying to light a trick candle. it is a cruel and embarrassing joke. i strike the match and the flame catches to the wick, but then it goes out. i keep striking match after match and i am running out of matches, and time. the darkness is coming, a dark so absolute i may as well be at the bottom of the Challenger Deep. it is a place where i will no longer be an artist. i will no longer be me. i will be prey. dramatic? maybe. truth? pretty close.

stress and fear are hindering my grief. i am not grieving. i am crying out for him to come and save me. Bunny's one long, single and only howl. please come back and save me, Dragon. i want to go home.

i need you, my darling, my darling

with it's yearning my very heart aches

the load that divides us weighs harder.

i shrink from the jar that it makes.

old sorrows rise up to beset me

old doubts make my spirit their own

oh, come through the darkness and save me

for i am alone.

Baz Luhrmann nailed it

"The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday." ~ Baz Luhrmann

i have been drifting along in open water to where ever the currents take me. i work very hard. i am looking for part-time and/or full-time work but it has been hard for me. i have no vehicle. i take the bus to job interviews, if i get one. i have one pair of pants that i wear over and over to these. mostly i am put in the pile of "when we have an opening we'll revisit your resume."

on top of this, the city is imposing new budget cuts. they are closing 16 branches of the library which puts 200 employees out of work starting June 1st. the rest of the cuts affect the schools and parks and recreation putting another 228 people out of work. also the local county VA is fighting to keep its doors open. it was a place where i was in line for free grief counseling. i need to talk about this depression. i need to talk about my life and what has happened and is happening. that will not be happening now. i am still on my own with this.

and then this morning i get an email from my ex that yanks the choke chain. he is overburdened and deadwood has to be cut. i am deadwood. my children and i are scratching in the dirt. i called the VA told them my situation. they were very sympathetic. the man put in a message up the chain to try and push my application on through. i am altering my resume yet again. i presently have 5 versions of it to fit any and all potential jobs i could apply for. and my daughter is taking me on my next day off to apply for food stamps.

i did get an email from a widow who wants 2 quilts and some sock animals. i am relieved and humbled for that. she is not on Facebook and knows i live in the United States. fortunately, she was not involved in all that, nor does she care about it. she found me through this blog and my creative one that corresponds. and then, in turn, my business site. knowing i have her quilt orders and sock animals coming has not lessened the panic but it has helped me from jumping off the balcony which would serve no purpose as i would only hurt my ankle and make life even more difficult.

right now, i am panicking. we'll figure this out but when you first get the heel of the palm in the chest, you cannot get your breath.

when i was little, i wanted to find love and be married. i wanted to get away from my parents whom i did not feel safe with. i was married for 20 years trying to make it work, trying to stay safe, until i was allowed to be free. then i met my Dragon and i was safe with him. we had food. we had a roof. we took care of my children. we had a hard scrabble existence but we shared in it. he protected me but now he is gone. i am alone and vulnerable and i am so very scared and tired. everything is magnified when you are scared.

i am worried about going to San Diego. correction. terrified. i have no idea what to expect. i know. if you go with goodness in your heart and great expectations, then you will receive it. i have tried that and it can so quickly turn at the drop of a word. what frame of mind do i adopt? are any of the people who emailed going? i am keeping as low a profile on FB as i can and yet still be part of the Cloud Project, still talk to my son through the chat thing, and my constant friend. back when this was all going on i allowed him to network in to my computer and check my emails for a while. if the names coincided with people on my list of friends, he left them alone. the ones that came through from outside, he opened and read. he would speak of them to me before deleting without my having to face the venom. there were 3 that were vicious, bordering on bad enough that he sent them along to whoever is in charge of Cyber Bad Stuff. i do not know the government initials that handles that nor what was contained in the letters. he patiently took on this drama over for me and he put a stop to it. he no longer networks in. my Dragon would be happy that i had this buffer because to tell you, i did not know how to handle it. and facing it was too much with everything else i worry about.

i am working very hard for Camp Widow. i am sewing constantly. well, not at this moment, but i do have to take breaks. the arthritis gloves get hot and my hands get stiff. i have been blessed with being given a booth or table, however it is laid out, in San Diego and i will set up and sit and wait and see what happens. but after all that happened, i do not know what to expect. how will it go? do these people travel in packs like piranha? these are rhetorical questions that there are no answers to. it will either be okay, or it will not. no one can anticipate what people will do. slammed and slammed again, i have no idea but i will be ready for anything. the tension of it is bringing me down though. one local widow here who knew about all this asked me if i was going with my suit of armor. i joked back that my chain mail was all ready, but the reality is i do not have any armor. my Dragon was my armor. and i was his. but he is gone and i am as unsafe as i have ever been; as unsafe as i was living with my parents, and as unsafe as i was for 20 years. i wish my Dragon had not had to leave me.

i need something to start breaking for me. it has been a long life and i am so tired. i am so scared. this is all on me, me and my children. they are making me so proud and so grateful coming together as they have today to work on this.

it's funny. growing up i never ever dreamed big. all i ever wanted was to love and be loved. i wanted a little home and a family. i never wanted the fancy place in a fancy neighborhood with lots of money and a high social profile. i wanted a studio to work in, to be together and deal with life as it came, but always together. when my Dragon and i found each other, i could see us getting old together. that is not going to happen anymore but i feel i have aged 20 years.

and now today. the email that i never thought would come has arrived. dear, God, even after all this time, after all that's happened to me, and after all the penance i have done, all that will ever happen for me is to continue to crawl through this life.

i am trying to figure out how to disable the comments because there really is nothing anyone can say. hopefully i can i do it. or i will fail and it will be open. i do not know. i only wrote this to be found, much like Lt. Cap. Dimitri Kolesnikov's message to his wife before he died in the Russian sub, the Kursk. he knew he would never see an answer to his letter just as i know there is no answer to what is happening in my life. it is more about knowing that someone may read it, and maybe think about who was here, and what happened. it is more about using the freedom to write from the darkest fear and loneliness, and to break the silence that either death can impose or the hardships that come our way to change even the way with breathe.

there is no reason for reaching out to people who may or may not be there, or who may or may not care, but it is one of those things that defines us, and at least to me, proves that each human has a soul. if this life is filled with fear, terror, and pain, then maybe the soul can find true peace after it is freed from the body. i can only hope.

falling down

i woke up at 4 AM with a panic attack that has yet to subside. terrible things are floating like wreckage in my mind causing my heart to beat too shallow and too fast. i'm lightheaded and so very teary. my eyes burn and my whole body aches. i am falling down in my mind and i cannot get back up.

it is all riding on one question. what am i still doing here?

i stupidly look to my past and judge myself and fall short. i wasn't the girl my mother wanted. i wasn't the boy my father wanted. i wanted to be loved but my first husband did not. my children love me but they are grown with their own lives. my son works two jobs, 9 AM to 1 AM. he is exhausted. my daughter works 9 AM until 7 PM six days a week and uses her one day off to take me food shopping and to simply see me so that i have one day a week actually seeing someone. she hugs me and we kiss each other good-bye. that is my only contact. that is my only touch.

i am alone as much as one can be and not be cloistered in a monastery or convent in a remote place. alone with my thoughts i worry. i worry so much it is affecting me physically. what if my ex cuts me off? what if he dies? what if i never get my things back out of storage? what if i never get another commission?

the Hope Matters newsletter came out yesterday and i am featured in it, my website, the quilts i make. i had two emails. one woman wants one quilt for her son. she is needing to wait until September or October to do it, but she definitely wants one. another woman wants 3 for her 3 children. i gave her my price and explained it all, but i have not heard back from her. she may not have even checked her email yet, but at 4 AM i got up and undercut myself in pricing. i emailed her that since she wanted 3, i would drop my price and hope it helped with her decision. as it stands, if she does order the quilts, i'll make about 22 - 35 cents an hour. but it will be money.

one widow knows she wants one but is waiting when she feels more like making the choices of her husband's clothes. i can understand that. she's sending them to a stranger, more or less. i have the luxury of being the artist and can make my own quilts. but i need commissions. if i could just get the woman who wants 3 quilts, i think my panic attack would ease. if i could just get a small little queue to form, then i would know my year is full of sewing, and bits of money here and there.

and i would appear to the world as a valuable asset. well, at least one who works very hard and provides a nice service for people who grieve. or have babies who have out grown their clothes and want a quilt from then. or have daughters who like beading and embroidery on their jeans.

i just want to feel like i did when my Dragon was alive. i want to feel needed. i want to feel like my being here is acceptable. because that's where i am this morning. i'm wondering why i'm here. alone like this day after day after week after month.

he made me feel so alive and welcome in this world. he noticed me and forgave my being here. it's a story to be told while laying on a couch to a man with suede patches on his sweater and a little notebook in his lap. i've been made to feel that i need to constantly justify why i was born. my Dragon just saw a woman who wanted love and had so much to give. i have so many ideas in my mind, things to create, all these different mediums to make beautiful things to give people pleasure, to make them think, to calm their spirits.

i'm rushing this. it will evolve. people will find out about me. right? maybe at Camp Widow, people will see me. they will see what i can do for them. i hope. i'm still here for some reason. right?

i had hoped in writing this all out under the quazi-anonymity of this blog, i would start to feel better. at least reason my life situation out. not yet. maybe later this afternoon. i'll work this morning. i'll eat my brunchy-lunch thing. i have a little hamburger patty left over. i was so hungry last night that i ate two. but i have one left for today and chicken for tonight. so i'll sew and sew. then i'll eat a hamburger. then i think i'll be ready for a "snap." a short nap. and i hope i don't dream about my worthless life. i hope i dream about a life that can be looked on and some semblance of value is obvious.

i just wish i could look at the mirror that was my Dragon's eyes. he always saw my worth. he always wanted me around. he'd find me on the beach and say, "hello, love. you've been gone for a while. i wanted to see what you were up to. want to go climb out on the rocks? i'll help you get out there."

i guess i need to pray for myself a little. i need to beg for forgiveness that i cannot see my own worth without my Dragon being here. i need to ask for strength to keep on being alone. and if He can see His way clear, to send some commissions my way so i can help people with their grief while putting some food on my little table.

thank you for listening. it's just something i'm going through right now. i'm just very tired and worried.

a falling apart kind of day

i don't have any poems nor any little stories. this is just straight forward writing.

i've had a bad day. i didn't want to get out of bed. once i did, i tried, i really tried, but i kept crying. i'm still lethargic late this afternoon. i feel so very sad. this is one of the worse days i've had in, oh, God, i cracked my first smile. see writing does help. it puts things in perspective. this is the worst day i've had in about two weeks.

i had momentum. i really did. my cough is dying out and i've had a few days of great progress. but today, i have only worked for a few hours. i am the worst boss i've ever worked for. i work myself for anywhere from 12 to 15 hours a day. i'll work until very late. but today, i'm slogging through so much grief and sorrow that it's like quicksand.

i see homes through the trees behind my apartment all lit up with Christmas lights. there is a commercial on television that i can't get away from. a man and a woman are standing in front of their big picture window at their beautiful log cabin lake house. there is a terrible storm outside and when a sudden flash of lightning drives the wife into her husband's arms, he says to her, "hey, it's all right. i'll always be here."

and i always say to the television, "don't make promises you have no control over being able to keep."

my Dragon promised he'd never leave me. and i worry, yeah, i've said it, one of my fears is that he died in pain and so terribly afraid, for me and for himself. it's eating me up inside today. i'm trying to fight against my own mind. it's that locked trunk i keep in the closet that rattling. i know what's locked in there. all my fears and worries that will ruin me if i let them get out.

so i'm trying to focus on my island. it has a dusting of snow on it, just like it did this time last year. i'm going through all my photos that are still on the computer and trying to get them burned off so that they are safe. i can't lose any of them. they are my past. they are of the places where i was when i was happy. they are of all the places i was while he was alive.

i wish there was someone i could call to come over and sit with me so i could talk about him. there are so many little stories i could tell. i feel like i could call "jude," "supa," Suddenwidow," and Boo and any one of them would rush right over with a sack of hamburgers and thick milkshakes, but even if they started now, the burgers would be cold and the shakes mushy. in other words, the people i've "met" who would come do not live within even 250 miles of me.

so it is to here that i come on this darkening late afternoon. i am alone as i always am and, most likely for the unforeseeable future, always will be. i'm weary and i wish i could crawl into his lap and lay my head down and sleep. i want to feel his legs behind my head. i want to feel his hands on me, caressing me, relaxing me. i want to close my eyes and listen to the low murmur of this voice.

i want him.

so i'll close my eyes and click my heels and say, "there's no place like home. take me to my island. take me home."

*sigh* i'm still here.