Apparently I slept alright because I woke up and I was ok, and I could actually remember a dream I had last night. These last few nights I have slept terribly because I sleep on my back but I had to consciously avoid doing just that so that I wouldn’t get ink all over my shirt. Also, I’m paranoid that my tattoo will get messed up if I sleep on it while it’s healing. I really just want it to come out amazing and not do anything to jerk it up, so you could say I’m a bit paranoid. Anyways, my dream last night was kind of odd. I was at a college, but not mine. All the buildings were named oddly and my friend went to this college and was showing me around. Out of nowhere I met this guy, and even though he didn’t look like it in the dream, my mind identified him with Christopher Drew. So he and I are walking all over this school, and I’m happy with him. (No pun intended) Then he just left me. All I had to get into contact with him was a phone number for fans to call and leave messages. I called this number about 3 times, each time intending to leave a message saying, “Today was fun, sincerely, the girl you bailed on.” But each time, I heard the recording that really had no relevance to the beep the preceded, and hung up the phone. I just kept thinking, “Really, what am I going to accomplish from leaving this message?” That’s all I remember right now. I don’t know why I felt compelled to post it here, but I thought it was kind of an improvement since this week has been rough, tiresome, and quick.

I feel so disconnected. I’ve been away from people that I’ve spent so much time with lately. It’s weird. I miss them. I’ve just been working. I forgot how much time work takes up when working 40 hours a week. I thought I’d have time off. I need a vacation. Or at least I’m really going to once this break is over. . Is it sad that all week my thought process went as follows: “Gee, I have Friday off. Oh yeah. . it’s Christmas.” ?

So now I’m sitting here, further disconnected. I have headphones on, and I’m listening to As Tall As Lions, and I see their lips moving. I see them making gestures. Communicating, but I can’t hear. It’s almost as if I’m watching a movie with the dialogue muted and nothing but soundtrack audible.

It makes me sad that each year Christmas has lost it’s touch. It’s gotten less and less amazing. I’ve gotten more and more numb. Something keeps stopping me from feeling the magic. Maybe I just wish my family would get along for once. I was thinking today, about how it seems my family gets worse around Christmas time. I just realized, though, that they probably are about the same as they usually are, it just seems so much worse, because it’s the holidays and it would seem normal if they weren’t so ridiculous and loud and argumentative. There’s way too much bitterness. I just hate being happy and trying my best to share that with people and nobody catches it. They all have their own things to make them happy and then they aren’t, and it just diminishes my happiness until I’m too tired of trying. Maybe that’s why I’m so numb.

All in all, as numb as I am, I still feel love, and I love you. You, being my friends and family, and everyone who’s been here through all the crap and still cares about me. I know I’ve been a difficult person, but I also realize that I’ve done A LOT of growing up this past year, and I still have plenty more to go. I will also add that I’m excited with this person that has suddenly descended upon me. I am free to be myself and I have no fear. Peace. <3

Twenty years ago that was the inherent word of the day. Today, I want to be enthusiastic but that requires self-esteem.  Loosing my self-esteem has been a transparent project to me.  I’m approaching 50 and in the span of 10 years I have “made” myself emotionally, financially and materially bankrupt.  Facing this is sobering and my retort to myself is, “You are  pathetic”.

It took significant 2008-2009 events to level my emotional playing field. The death of El’s dad, my mom and my cousin plus closing my company all within 3 months – did a pretty good number on me.  I feel numb and clearly this blog is an attempt to break free, and feel life not just witness it then pass silent judgment.

Again, the movie played on and I watched with great interest and basically said to myself, “I can handle this”.  The truth is I have melted to the bottom.

This is what I know for sure.  I’m very intelligent with tons of commonsense and life experience. Why is it then, that I can go from the clearest thought to being in the most immobile and empty body on earth.  The funny part is I can see it happen almost moment by moment and I feel powerless to stop it’s progress.  I don’t feel sorry for myself and I don’t feel like someone or the world has put something on me. It’s not even a zone of comfort I’m seeking.

I have to rekindle my enthusiasm, my zest, my smile and laugh that everyone I’ve ever know has said is infectious.

The past few days I have really been missing things. Missing the old life. Not that it was particularly good but I did not feel anything. I was numb to everything.

However, now I feel lots of “feelings” and I am not comfortable with them. I asked my therapist the other day “how do I go back to numb?” I have no idea when or why my “feelings” turned on. It seems like one day I woke up and I felt everything.

These “feelings” cause me to change my clothes a lot because nothing feels right against my skin. I change everything even if its 3am. It takes me hours to get ready and my room and closet are constantly trashed.

 I cannot eat food that is certain colors because of these “feelings”. Everything I drink has to come from a straw.

These “feelings” have caused me to question my sexual orientation. As, I have male parts who are attracted to females and female parts attracted to males. In addition, a few parts who are attracted to their same gender. This just makes life more complicated and confusing. I am not really sure what or who I am.

These “feelings” make water come out of my eyes. In addition, making it so difficult to touch anyone.  I really just want to hold someone’s hand right now but because of these “feelings”, I cannot.

Christmas is less than a week away. And I have these “feelings”.

You ever get a migraine?  I am talking about a real migraine with auras and light disturbance, nausea as well as pain, not just a really bad headache.  I ususally get a couple of them a month.

I still haven’t identified a trigger, a why these stupid things happen but my best guesses are fatigue and stress.  The worst part about those is that it seems to be a cumulative effect; like today, I was cooking some breakfast.  No stress, I actually slept a bit more than usual and WHAM!  The aura that looks like a too bright camera flash that obsures vision and shimmers like the setting sun off of a lake.  I can’t say why or how but hey just another migraine.  I can only hope my hand and face don’t go numb.

I have been having migraines since I was a teenager.  Good grief that is over 20 years now.  Back then I didn’t know what they were, I just thought it was some sort of food poisoning.  I would wake up with the visual aura that would progress to nausea and vomiting, until it passed.  It was incapacitating back then, many times starting with a numbness “sphere” about the size of a baseball, starting in my left hand and creeping up my arm, through my neck, over my face, (numb lips, tongue, and teeth are incredibly creepy) and finally creeping down my right arm.  It really bothered me and I just thought I was sickly.  Looking back I am sure it was stress from my family and the constant pressure from my Father.

It wasn’t until I was dating my wife who was in Nursing School that I even knew that these were migraines.  I was having a bad one at work one day and then another later at home.  She recognized some of the issues and took me to the emergency room for an injection.  Holy Crap there was medicine for this that all but took away the symptoms!  I never knew.  Later talking with my doctor he said it was all of the classic signs of migraine, and here is a perscription for an overpriced but effective medication against migraines.  Of course my dad says “It takes years to diagnose migraines” I read that as “you are a whiny little baby who is now flawed and one step above worthless”  That is another blog though.

Well with medication it is better.  There was a period of almost 2 years where I only had like 1 episode.  Even with my daughter in kidney failure and on dialysis there were not too many.  I have even began to realize a type of aura 1-2 days ahead of time that I can guess will result in a migraine.  Didn’t today but hey can’t be all knowing.  I hve even began to realize that I have migraines on both sides of my head but not at the same time.  The ones on the right side are more severe and last longer.  They just plain hurt more and even with medication the only real relief is sleep.  Hard to do when you have things to do and people counting on you to make sure your 3 year old isn’t playing with knives or falling down the stairs.  The ones on the right side, like today, are more mild but really make me groggy for a few hours like I am spinning through jello.

all in all migraines just suck.  It is not even the headache that is the worst part, for me it is the uncontrol and the not being able to see.  I would be a terrible blind man.

until the muse strikes again,

Justin

www.carepages.com pagename ameliarosematthews

www.brendasquiltshop.com

Gospel:The people were filled with expectation. Luke 3:15

Word: expectation – the prospect of the future

Yesterday was the Third Sunday of Advent which is represented by the pink candle in the Advent wreath. Also, not only is yesterday also known as Gaudete Sunday, gaudete being Latin for “rejoice,” it’s also a chance for Catholic priests to wear some haute couture.

so fierce

I’m not sure where you are right now, but it’s cold where I am. The wind whips against my skin and chills my core. When walking, I look down, tuck in my chin, and stiffen my shoulders in an attempt to stay warm. This time of year, it can be hard to feel anything other than feeling numb.

Some days, especially this time of year, I don’t feel like cultivating an expectation. I don’t want to think about my future – what I want it to look like or if, let alone how, I’m going to achieve it and if I do achieve it, will I have anyone to celebrate with.

Something I’ve learned to help me deal with these feelings is to allow myself to have them. I let myself like I don’t know how to move forward. I let myself feel like I have no talent. I let feeling alone scare me – and that’s where I make myself stop.

I am not alone. You are not alone. We are many parts working towards painting a larger picture: peace, equality, and love. To me, that’s a future worth rejoicing about.

It is four minutes before 6PM as I start to write this entry. I just finished my routinary ‘aero dance’ with my niece. The view from my room’s window is completely surrounded by the looming dark night. Cold seasonal wind chills my spine. Natasha Bedingfield’s ‘Soulmate’ cries from my laptop’s speakers. The music, I think, is written for someone like me J I wish I could perform that on drums or piano, if only I know how to. It’s one of my frustrations. If our church could buy a new set of musical instruments soon, maybe our music ministry can teach me to play least one instrument.

Then, suddenly I’m blanked. I’m without a direction what to write about. Staring at the immaculate white MS Word before me, a chat suddenly popped out from my screen. It was my former officemate. Asking for forgiveness and for us being at least ‘civil’ to each other. I can’t. Now. Just for once, please, allow me to be unkind. Sometimes, I wanna get tired of being so kind and understanding to people. Because no matter how nice and sincere you can be to them, they can still return your kindness with pain. God must be frowning at me now. I am so sorry. In due time, I guess, I can be ‘civil’ with them. The pain, I guess, has made me so numb. Again and again. And again.

This was one of those blogging moments when I will start to write a new post then stop because I really don’t have an exact thing in mind to discuss about. I just wanna write and pour out all my thoughts at the moment. And so this post was continued after about almost a month. Lol!!! I got so busy practicing for FilWeb Asia’s Writing Department’s bid to defend our championship (We have this FilWeb Idols talent competition every Christmas party). Add to that the inconvenient scenario at home the past month due to some repair and renovation works. At least now I can sigh with relief that it’s all over now. Our Christmas party was held last night.

I’ve long asked myself why, where it would make sense for me to be experiencing bliss and joy, gratitute and elation, I have often felt a hollow emptiness I can only describe as the opposite of fullfillment.

Lately I have come in contact with the deepest grief I have ever known.  The kind that makes me wonder if I’m having a heart attack.  In standing in the face of it and remembering What I am I say this:

Grief is the wrecking ball that breaks down the walls in my heart so that the joy can shine through.  Without it I have been cadged in by my own fear of experiencing my pain and numb to the joys that are all around me.  

I need the crisis to get through to the ecstasy.  As all things can turn out to be, grief is another ally on this path.

Almost half-way through this never-ending break! Woohoo! The one good thing that I can say about this break is how much free-time it was given me. Some of this free time I have squandered, spending far too much time on Facebook and other stupid sites. Much of it I have spent with the Lord. The rest, I have spent doing random things like cleaning the kitchen, making dinner, and rooting through my room. While I was going through my room, I found my collection of old notebooks. I have been writing for a very long time, since about 3rd grade. I have kept each journal I have ever written in. I started reading through them, and was startled by what I found.

If I were to tell you my testimony, at least just from memory, I would have said that the feelings of isolation and loneliness began somewhere in middle school.  But reading through my 4th grade diary, I came across this sobering sentence – “I am so different from everybody else. I know that I have friends and that my family loves me, but I still feel like I don’t fit in. Sometimes I feel like I will be alone forever.”

4th grade. In 4th grade I identified the hole in my heart, even if I didn’t know what it was or why it was there. Then, in my journal from when I was 16 (about 5 months before I accepted Christ), was this entry: “Even here, in this place, surrounded by people who are so much like me (I was at art camp at the time) sometimes I still feel so alone. Like there is this deep part of myself that no one will ever see or understand.  Perhaps no one is meant to understand it.  Perhaps in everyone, there is this tiny piece of our souls that will forever be alone.  And no one talks about it.  And when people say they’re afraid to die alone, maybe what they’re really saying is that they’re afraid of living alone, this little piece inside of them that is dying for recognition.  I am so alone.  Always alone.”

And when I think back on it, these past two years in my life are the first years that I can remember where I haven’t felt alone, since I was old enough to realize such a feeling.  The relief from this tormenting, inner loneliness didn’t come from anything that I chased in this world.  I tried everything – food, exercise, music, art, friends, boyfriends.  Nothing touched that little island of loneliness within my heart. Only one things has ever truly filled that loneliness, and that is Jesus Christ.

Why? Because we are made to know him and love him. We are designed to long for him and his friendship.  Without a friendship with him, there will always be a part of us that longs for him. And if you say to yourself “I’m not friends with Jesus, and I feel just fine.” Well, at one time, I would have said that too. But my lack of feeling was not lack of pain. It was leprosy. I had spent so long diseased that I had become numb to it. Beware, because at some point or another, that pain will break though.

I was a leper, shamed by the world and numb to my own disease.  I cannot express gratitude enough that Jesus reached out, and with one touch healed my heart. That being said, with a healed heart came a flood of pain that I had previously been numb too. But that will be discussed in the next update. Until then -

I wish this post were better written, more well thought out.  But this is all I can get my jumbled mind to manage.  I spent far too many years of my life lonely and lost.  Only 2 years of true life under my belt, but hopefully many more. If this post made any sense at all, I would appreciate some comments to let me know that I’m not completely crazy

“I spent my life learning to feel less.
Every day I felt less.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
You can not protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

Look! It’s snowing, Eliza said.

Emily rolled over in her bed, the low-grade fever she was beginning to develop kept her under the thick quilt she and Eliza had shared since they were born.

Make sure you take a scarf. Don’t forget to button your jacket all the way! And grab a pair of gloves, the waterproof ones. Your wool ones will be soaked from the snow, it looks wet out there, Emily advised.

I wish I could stay home with you, she pouted. We could play in the snow all day!

I’m sick, Emily said.

No, you’re not. You just have a fever, her little sister teased. The snow would fix your fever and you’d be just fine!

Emily chuckled, Get your boots on before Mom has to drive you and then you can’t play in the snow.

“The thing about remembering is you don’t forget. You take your material where you find it, which is in your life, at the intersection of past and present. The memory-traffic feeds into a rotary up in your head, where it goes in circles for awhile, then pretty soon imagination flows in and the traffic merges and shoots off down a thousand streets. As a writer, all you can do is pick a street, and go for the ride, putting down things as they come to you. That’s the real obsession. All those stories.”

where do geese go when winter sets in?

I had a fever, Mama said I was burning up. I suppose that happens to be some cruel irony now. People say it takes love to miss someone the way it breaks your heart. I say, love can burn your insides out. It scalds and feeds on you like a million splendid suns, and then the cold sets in. It knocks your breath out. The cold, that is. But unlike the burn, it stays the same. Unchanging, you adapt. There’s no heartbreak when you learn how to forget. Or no, not forget. Never forget. Everything to Nothing.

Some say the world will end in fire;
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

It’s 6:18 in the A.M. Generally, a blaring techno club of an alarm clock can’t wake me. It would be today that my subconscious decides to greet the dawn. Perhaps ‘greet’ is the wrong term. Scowl at. Scorn painfully fades into that rocky chasm of Nothing. Nothing it has become, Nothing from an end to Everything. Enough.

The Tennessee winter of 1996 senses my sentiments exactly. They’ve had more snow in Nashville this year than any year I can remember, and now I’m here for it. The cold floorboards curl my toes with the same distaste that a nose wrinkles when the peculiar hairs inside of your nose freeze in the cold. Odd sensations, I can name a multitude on and on, infinitum . . . the savory smell of salted hot cocoa that brings the crunch of icy socks when snow inevitably finds its way past snowveralls and into rubber boots and how smoke burns through the nasal passages until it is eyes that water instead of the mouth or the worst pangs of solitude echo that this day eleven years before down to the exact horrible day seems to suck the life out of me in the same destructive manner as she used to scatter the dandelion into its many children on and on and on into infinitum, amen.

I press my hands to the windowpane and let the frosted glass steal some heat. How much is enough? At what point can you become scientifically numb? It’s been subzero living around here, or at least selectively. Some things should be left alone, right unadulterated snow? Surely.

Ordinarily, I’d pretend today were any other. It would blend seamlessly into the rest of the week, even being home wouldn’t stir the waters of my carefully protected calm. A headline does so much, an interview does more.

There’s stirring in the kitchen, my stomach turns at the thick smell of the furnace purring to life. The pop and sizzle of burning wood seems so subtley taboo. Romantics praise their smoldering bonfires and the love kindled around a warm hearth; romantics never encountered realism with the face of their burning school. Or so the story goes . . .

Morning has come too quickly and sleep can’t wipe me out soon enough.

He’d made promises he couldn’t keep. After all, he couldn’t erase three kids, an alcoholic ex-wife and cynicism all in one night. No reason to think the third time would be different. So he didn’t even take the chance. Walked her to the car. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Knowing he wouldn’t pick up the phone. Knowing she believed him. And that was the hard part. There was a time when he’d looked and believed, just like her. And he’d been wrong about words. But that was then, before found truths surfaced.

“Hey, how long before you’ll be home?”

“I’ll have this wrapped up in a couple of hours. Want to go out for a bite?”

“Sure. Just give me a call when you’re ready to leave.”

After he hung up, he thought about when they’d first met. She had been in town for about a week, had just walked out on a dead-beat job in Norfolk. Just showed up one night at the coffee bar in his neighborhood. Ready for a change.

He ordered his usual triple non-fat latte. Sat at the counter adjacent to the chair she was sprawled in, glasses down on her nose, snuggling in a furry orange sweater and jeans with holes on both knees. Reading Lightman’s The Diagnosis, which he’d just finished after Lorrie Moore’s A Gate at the Stairs. Not to be lit-snobbing, but she just seemed the whole proverbial package. So he cleared his throat, said in a voice she couldn’t ignore. “So what’s with the numb hands and feet?”

She kept her eyes on the page, marking her place. Then glanced up, “If you have to ask, you likely already know.”

For a second or two, just before he moved over to the chair next to hers, he remembered the woman he’d cut loose without a word. Realized it was prologue to something else, maybe this.

And that’s how it started. Prologue to days and nights completely theirs. As few things are.

“Hey, I’m on my way. Need me to pick up anything?”

“No, just get your ass home. I”m missing you.”