The Longest Year

Today has been a tough day. I know the media is flooded with stories of today's anniversary of the Virginia Tech Massacre. But that wasn't the only tragic event on that day last year. The same day, my Grandma Ramsey passed away, after a very shocking diagnosis with a weird form of cancer called GIST.

She was, as always, surrounded by my enormous family till the very end. There were days the last few weeks where there were so many people there that we couldn't all fit in the house. Literally people in every room, more folding chairs than I knew we owned spread through every room, and all full and then people sitting in groups all over the yard. And even through her immense pain, she saw every last one of us as much as we needed. She told us she loved us. She told us funny stories about her past that she would NEVER have admitted to otherwise. Even in her hardest hours on this Earth, she was giving of herself to all of us, trying to ease our pain.

My Grandma was probably the most giving person I've ever known. She had a smile, a love for life, a love for her family, a love for her friend and savior Jesus, and an infectious laugh, all of which surpassed my understanding sometimes. How could one woman do SO much, for SO many, and SO willingly and selflessly? But she did. If I live to be half the woman she was, I will have achieved something akin to greatness.

It's been such a hard year. There were days I wasn't sure I'd make it through, times I'd cry till I thought I would literally run out of tears, or wail so loud I was quite sure the neighbors could hear. There were so many times when I wanted to reach for the phone and call my grandma to share some good news, or complain about bad news, or schedule a game of Skip-Bo, or invite her to dinner. I miss her daily. But these days, I can't help laughing through my tears. Because there are so many happy and very funny memories. It has been so helpful to visit her memorial site the last month or so and read the guestbook. Just hearing that other people still think about her all the time, reading their funny memories always makes me cry, but it also inevitably makes me smile.

I miss my Grandma. Today has been a tough one. Quite selfishly, I was not at all ready to let my Grandma go. I still wish I could have her back, healthy and happy and full of her laughter. But I guess the closest I can get is to remember her, and to share her memory with those I love.

To my family, there are a couple of new entries in her guestbook that made me feel better to read. Please visit today, and share your sentiments. www.rememberingireneramsey.net

It's a tough day for my family, but not one without some sweetness as well as we remember the woman who meant so much to all of us, and left us too soon. Please keep us all in your thoughts. Thanks.

Alive and Kickin'

I realized today that I haven't written anything in quite a while, and in that while, my life has completely changed. My relationship came to an unfortunate end, as did my residence in Panama City. And nobody seemed to notice. It's been tough coming to terms with the fact that for all the people I cared a lot about in Panama City, to the people I honestly considered my friends, it turns out I am pretty much wholly irrelevant. That little epiphany smarts. Might even leave a mark. But it's probably my own fault. You teach people how to treat you, I heard Dr. Phil say the other day. Somehow, I lost sight of myself in PC, began defining myself by my relationships, and I spent a lot of time caring about a bunch of people who just aren't that interested in me, as it turns out. You live, you learn. I'm working on applying that knowledge.

I am living in Tallahassee at the moment, staying with my folks until I can pick up the pieces of the life I let fall apart and get back on my feet. It's not easy coming back home at my age, but I'm grateful that I have somewhere to go home to. I'm still job hunting in both PC and Tally, and I guess the results of that effort will determine where I ultimately end up. I did apply for one job in particular last week that I REALLY want, and I hope something will come of that this week. It's a great opportunity with lots of room for advancement, so keep your fingers crossed for me!

To pass the time while I wait to hear from some of my applications, I have been doing a lot online. I have created two websites, which is something new to me. The first one is a memorial site for my Grandma, http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnJlbWVtYmVyaW5naXJlbmVyYW1zZXkubmV0Lw==, and the second is a work in progress, but I hope will be a site I can use to generate some extra income.

Hope

Life's been hard lately. I've felt alone. I've felt defeated. I've found myself picking up pieces of a life I no longer recognized, and at a complete loss as to how to fit them all together again.
But things are starting, slowly, to feel a little better. I'm accepting the things and the people that I finally realize I can't always control. And I'm trying hard to move forward and tackle the things that I can.
I've been bouncing back and forth between Tallahassee and Panama City as I have struggled to make work the relationship I thought was going to be forever. I see now that it isn't, and I think I might still be okay. I didn't think I was going to be able to forgive him and be his friend. I didn't think I could let him go. But a wise friend recently told me that these things take time. And as hard as it is to admit, as hard as it is to not talk everyday to the man who has been my closest friend and my lover for more than two years, I think he is right. I've been selfish, and I've been letting my anger and hurt turn me into someone I am just not. Someone I don't like. Someone I am not proud of. But I intend to do better.
I've met new people. Nice people that I enjoy being around. I've reconnected with some that I sadly lost touch with.
Tomorrow, my best friend all through middle and high school and I are going on a road trip. We are going to Atlanta to see the Black Crowes play at the Tabernacle, and we will be sitting in the front row. That is incredibly exciting to me, as their music has meant a lot to me personally. But what has lifted my spirits more than anything is that this person, whom I've done a less than decent job of keeping in touch with over the years, is taking time out of her incredibly full and busy life just to spend a weekend with me. I think this is just exactly what I need, and I am so excited I can't sleep. Like a kid on Christmas Eve.
The most important thing though, is that I think I'm going to be okay. I really do. Rebuilding a life, starting over, it's not easy. But I've always liked a challenge, and I'm finally beginning to feel up to this one.

Cry for help or just a good cry? What, really, is the difference

 

Did you ever feel completely and utterly alone?  Invisible?  Irrelevant?

Did you ever just feel like you could fall off the face of the planet and nobody would even notice for days?

Did you ever feel the visceral need for physical contact - to be held by another human being, their touch  reminding you for a few moments of your own humanity, your own physical existence? 

Did you ever wonder what it's all for, what it is we're all really struggling for day in and day out? 

Has your pain ever been so intense that you feel it has consumed you, physically altered you, and you look in the mirror, searching for any trace of what you once believed yourself to be?  Have you ever done this only to not recognize the person looking back at you?

Ever wonder how you'd make it through yet another day just like the one before it?  If you'd ever be able to pick up the pieces?  If it was even worth trying?

 Schopenhauer once said, "It is a clear gain to sacrifice pleasure in order to avoid pain."  I used to find him a tad pessimistic.  Now I'm not so sure he doesn't have the right idea.

 I honestly don't know why I bother writing at all anymore.  Nobody's listening.  Nobody hears what I'm saying.  Nobody ever seems to care.

Someone Wake Me when It's Over

Ever feel like your life has suddenly become a bad dream you can't seem to wake up from? Ever feel like the people around you are suddenly strangers, like you don't even know who they are anymore? Ever feel just completely and utterly alone and irrelevant? Ever feel like your mere existence is a sandspur in the underwear of someone's life? Yeah, me neither.

Sometimes, when your heart is breaking, there's nothing like a cheesy old love song to get you through. When I'm at a loss for words to convey my feelings, somehow, someone else has already done it for me. Helps to know I'm not the only one. Those are for the sad times. Sometimes you just have to let yourself feel the pain before you can get past it. So you wallow a little in your grief. But I find it's best to temper the wallowing with some inspiration. You have to pick yourself back up and face the world again. There are songs for that, too. For me, they're generally equally as cheesy. Here are two of my favorites here of late, for your reading pleasure, for anyone who cares to know how I feel. I wonder why I expect that anyone else will care when I'm not even sure I care how I feel anymore. I think I'm fresh out of give-a-shit. At the very least, I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Wake Me When the Day Breaks

 So I was a band nerd in high school.  From an early age, I acquired an appreciation for music of all sorts, and even after I gave up the piano lessons and the French horn, that love has not left me.  Music has always been a powerful influence in my life, from writing to singing to praising to mourning loss to simply sharing and thus doubling my joy, I have always enjoyed music.  My tastes have run the gamut from Chopin to Milli Vanilli (shut up, you know you had that tape, too) to Pearl Jam to Simon & Garfunkel to Tchaikovsky to Snoop Dogg.  There's nearly no genre that I have failed to explore at some point, and very little that I've been unable to find at least something to appreciate about.

But there have been a few pieces, composers, or groups throughout my life that have just moved me.  Moved my soul.  Opened my mind.  Touched my heart.  Hopefully, you know the kind of music I mean.  A song that you can hear anywhere, anytime, and from the first bars, your heart skips a beat.  Like a deep breath after being underwater too long.  You inhale its rhythms, its melodies, its words… and somehow all is right in your world again.  It speaks to you – says everything you wish you could say and more.  It is almost tangible, this feeling.  You feel the music inside you.  You can't help but move.  You can't help but sing.  For me, sometimes these experiences have been songs of praise in church.  Sometimes they were a beautiful classical piece I was playing on the piano, or in band.  Sometimes it was an old CD of Simon & Garfunkel belonging to my parents that I discovered when I was barely 14.  The Beatles make me feel this way.  Sometimes it was an unexpectedly phenomenal concert.  Sometimes it was just the satisfaction of seeing the joy said music brought the ones I love.  But most recently, my friend Scott played a CD by The Black Crowes on New Years Eve at our house.  It was a relatively old CD.  The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion album.  Around 15 years old.  But from the moment the song, "Thorn in My Pride" began to play, the second the organ kicked in, from the first "shhhhh," I was taken to another world.  I was tired, it was late, and I just laid back and let the music soak in.  He and Dave were dancing in the living room, with looks of such sublime satisfaction on their faces as they sang along.  I felt like I had taken a sudden, much needed plunge into a warm bubble bath.  And then I heard "She Talks to Angels".  I know I'm way behind, all this is so old, but, oh how it moved my soul. That's what music is about.  Music is more than something you hear.  Real music is something to be experienced.  Something you feel, something that speaks to your soul, opens your eyes, opens your heart, leaves you a different person than you were even the few minutes before you first heard it.  I love these experiences.  And I never forget them.  I will never forget that night, the first time I heard those songs, and the looks on the faces of those I love as they danced about and sang along.  One would be hard pressed to come up with a better gift than the gift of perfect song.

Music is one of life's greatest pleasures, one of our greatest gifts.  Seek it out.  Feel it.  Sing it.  Share it.  Experience the bliss of a perfect melody and lyrics that speak to your soul and the feeling of completely letting go and just letting the music move your body as you dance in a world at least temporarily all your own.  There's scarcely anything better.

The Sky Had Better Be Falling

So it's before six in the morning.  I finally fell asleep last night after 2.  A noise must have roused me, and then I freaked out thinking I'd overslept.  I was just too comfortable, something had to be wrong.  Well, it was.  Besides the obvious injustice of my being fully conscious at such an unholy hour, I heard what can only be described as the end of the world taking place outside.  It was the garbage truck that woke me, and excepting the fact that this makes the second time in a row we've forgotten to but the bin out (meaning we should be swimming in our own refuse by this time Sunday), I could have settled in for a few more hours of much needed sleep.  This was not to be. 

It was after a brief discussion with Chris about said garbage that the sirens started.  We live near the hospital, so we do hear an occasional ambulance.  I've gotten used to that, and Chris hardly ever even howls anymore when they start up.  But this sounded like every emergency vehicle in Bay County had come out for a last-minute parade.  It went on for a really long time.  And of course, all 47 dogs in the immediate vicinity were duty-bound to join in the cacauphony. Naturally, if something big or particularly off-pissing is going on, I need to know about it immediately.  Gives me a chance to run from the invading aliens, or march down in my slippers and single-handedly put a stop to the ill-advised pre-dawn parade.  So I go to the trusty worldwideintronets.  And nothing. 

Now the noise has stopped.  My powers of deduction say this was no parade.  So I'm gonna go start packing canned goods, water, and all the toilet paper I can find so we can get the heck out of dodge.  Maybe head someplace warmer.  Like Canada. 

Stay warm out there, folks, and stay on the alert.  (And if anybody out there knows what that shit was all about this morning, why I am now completely awake and unable to sleep, please do share.)

Crossing Fingers!

I got a call today from the school. I have an interview tomorrow at 2:40. I also now have a terrible case of the nerves. I HATE interviews. But, I REALLY want/need/gotta have this job!

Cautiously Optimistic...

So times have been more than a little trying lately.  I've been stuck in a rut of my own creation, and for a while now have not been able to see any hope of escaping it.  I've never had a great sense of direction, but I don't recall a time in my life where I have been so lost.  I lost my sense of self, who I was, what I wanted.  And when you can't find yourself, don't know where you are,  it's virtually impossible to navigate life with any sense of purpose or direction and find your way to your desired destination.  You kinda have to know where you're coming from to know where you're heading.

Depression is an ugly, hateful creature.  It can turn even the brightest of moments dark, eradicate all traces of hope, and leave you  wandering aimlessly and alone in the void of a desperate, desolate existence.  I've always felt that the worst kind of lonely is the loneliness you feel even as you walk amongst friends and loved ones.  The self-perceived isolation, the feeling that no one can understand the depths of your despair, the however irrational feeling that no one cares... It's rough, to put it most mildly.  Reason and logic seem to fly out the proverbial window, and you're left with tiny pieces of who you used to be, and an outlook on life that is remarkable in both its pessimism and downright inaccuracy.

Seriously?

So, needless to say, when my honey announced that he'd be gone on his business trip for damn near a month, I was miles away from thrilled.  Since we got together, I think we've spent maybe two weekends apart.  We're no good at it, as he would say.  So a MONTH???  I had visions of long, lonely nights...just me and the Molly watching TV and sulking.  Well I got that part right, but I forgot to envision the everything going to shit as soon as he got out of town part.  He flew out Wednesday.   He's been gone less than 24 hours, when the friggin' roof starts cavin' in.  Well maybe I exaggerate a little.  But let's just say there was a monsoon in full swing,  and I awaken to discover a big crack in the ceiling over the computer desk, and water dripping rapidly through it.   WTF?  This had been going on a while, judging from the puddle that had accumulated 3 inches from the CPU.   Is the ceiling gonna cave in?  How many days will I remain trapped in the rubble before the Molly eats me alive?  So I make some calls.  Then I realize that it's about a million degrees.  Check the thermostat, and the A/C is fuxt.  This is unbearable.  Inhumane.  If I know nothing about drywall, I know less than nothing about fixing A/C.  I'm considering packing it in and heading to a shelter, when the Spankster calls and walks me through it.  Then the brother came by after work to look at the roof and ceiling, and so far it seems I'm safe.  Now I get to wait for the landlord.  

In other news, holy shit about this bridge situation in Minneapolis.  The whole thing is just awful, first few hours were a little intense because we have family that live there, but they are safe and sound.  I have always been afraid of bridges.  I don't like driving on them and I pretty much come unglued when I'm in traffic that stops on one.  But now?  It used to be an irrational fear.  And some would say that it still is.  But in reading the statistics about how many bridges in America are rated as poorly or even WORSE than the one that fell, it's a little scary.  Close to 5,000 high traffic bridges rated even lower than this one on inspections.  WHICH ONES? is what I want to know.  That's a lot of fucking bridges that I don't wanna cross.  I can't even fathom what the people involved in MN are going through right now.  So sad.