it's all good

For those of you worried that my anguish about prince Oscar's death might plunge me back into that depression you watched me swim around and almost sink in over the last three plus years - take heart. These are like minor market adjustments, little glitches. Buy stock now. The trend is up, my friends.

So, no. I am not slipping into a deep recession, I mean depression, though truth be told, come the end of the year my financial situation is gonna look pretty dire and I'll be panicking again. Life on the edge. I don't recommend it. I decided I would like a cleaner life, a life where I only have to please myself, the taxman and the mortgage company. And the animals. I don't wanna negotiate too much, be it around where or when to eat, where or when to go away for the weekend, whether to go to dinner with friends or not, or whether to stop on the frickin' freeway and pick up a bleeding dog, dammit. Just stop the car Jill. Rip up the bathroom floor? Do it. Paint the bedroom walls a concrete color. Got it, no worries. Listen to Rush on the radio? Just do it. Fuck it. Don't worry, you can flick the dial back to NPR when you get in my car. It's programmed.

But I haven't slept since Oscar died. I've tossed and turned and restlessly stared at the ceiling (still waiting for Aida or Susie to put some damn lighting in). I've longed for the feel and smell of that litle dog, his snout resting on the pillow next to mine, his breathing calm and measured. Who knew that a ten pound dog could occupy such a space? Kris, a friend who walks her dog at the landfill gave me a check today. For the non profit I am fundraising for - Berkeley Animal Welfare Fund. In honor of Oscar. I fucking wept when I found it in my car at the landfill, along with a bar of chocolate. That is so sweet. Bitter. Sweet.

I like feeling sad, I like crying, I'm not afraid of anger, I think emotion is a good thing. And I'm coming to realise, slowly, that as I become more closely reconciled with truths not yet emerged, my comfort level with all that has gone before rises, and the rage subsides. I keep avoiding saying certain things. For the first time recently I used the word 'masculinity' to describe myself - as in 'comfortable with'. Whew, it is getting hot in here. I have come to accept that the many times in my younger life when I shocked myself with outbursts of horrible anger, it was very much as if a teenage boy could simply not contain the rage at being humiliated like a girl. There. It's said. I worry that I'll be able to get senior benefits before I'm fully at peace with this. Guess it comes when it does. And one simply can't behave like a teenage boi forever, much as I might like to.

So, I have been missing holding my little boy dog in bed. And not sleeping, and wishing I wasn't so resistant to touch, to tenderness, to being loved. Clean the attic. Move boxes around, write blogs, cook, walk the dogs, work, write, take pictures, raise money, lots of it, do battle with bureaucrats. It's all good.

Comments

[Deborah]

For whatever reason I've not been able to comment from my work server/computer. My evenings got away from me, and so I hadn't remembered to return here, once home...

However, I didn't want another day to go by without at least trying to say, I read each of the last three posts and that my heart and thoughts are with you.

Peace

[nina]

"and wishing I wasn't so resistant to touch, to tenderness, to being loved."

I have no sage words to give you on this. But you must know that you continue to touch so many people and it is because of you honesty and your compassion and your vulnerabilities which you are brave and generous enough to share. There are many people in your life whom you love and who love you. They are lucky to experience this in your direct company. Then there are others who have spent a few years contructing jill piece by piece from her words, her photography, her passion, her honesty and introspection. And we hold you in our hearts and love you from way out here. But I do know you are speaking about more than this simple little thought of mine.

I am not sleeping either tonight. Though mine is a different situation. The struggle for sleep can be a bastard. I am longing for just a brief moment where i can be released from my own loss of expectation and disappointment. Blessed sleep come to both of us soon.

love
nina

[Tamara Burton]

I'm so sorry. I take care of a lot of animals, especially dogs. It never gets easier.