emotions, Motivation

Fantastical

One of the most amazing things about my husband is that he gets caught up and rides the wave of my fantastical thoughts and dreams. I don’t think he believes them any more than I do, but he doesn’t question them. I talk about my newest fantastical dream and he goes along. Like, it could happen.

I talk about moving to a small town to be in the Gilmore Girls world. I talk about moving to Spain to be among the beautiful men. I talk about buying property in Oakland. I talk about so many things. And the love of my life… he just goes along with it. We both know these won’t happen, but he never bursts my bubble. He encourages this.

My newest and most fabulous one? I am going to buy a house in Guerneville while finding a fully 100% telecommuting position. I can be there five to six days a week. We can swap between our apartment and there. I can walk down main street holding his hand without fear. I can be. I can live. So much life with so little outside interference.

I love me more and more as the days go on. My dreams get bigger and better. But one day, these won’t be dreams anymore. They will be. We will be.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Hero

People talk about their internal struggles in regards to animals or angels and devils. They have two dragons battling inside or two tigers. They have a good angel and a bad angel. But not me. I have two women from the 1980’s battling in my head.

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night
He’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight

and

We don’t need another hero
We don’t need to know the way home
All we want is life beyond the Thunderdome

and

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere, just beyond my reach
There’s someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder
And rising with the heat
It’s gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet, yeah

and

Looking for something
We can rely on
There’s gotta be something better out there
Love and compassion
Their day is coming (coming)
All else are castles built in the air
And I wonder when we
Are ever gonna change, change
Living under the fear
‘Til nothing else remains

and

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light
He’s gotta be sure, and it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life

and

So, what do we do with our lives?
We leave only a mark
Will our story shine like a light
Or end in the dark
Is it all or nothing?
We don’t need another hero

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Bullets

I heard a song recently and it got stuck in my head. I was excited because I thought I was on to a 70’s or 80’s song. I don’t usually get those in my head. I thought it even might be David Bowie (please don’t hate me)

But it wasn’t any of that. The song was from 2017. And I hate myself. It’s almost as bad as that time that I found out I loved a song by Justin Bieber. This time, though, it wasn’t quite as bad. It was Harry Styles.

Here we go with Sign of the Times from some Brit dude that is way too young for me to be looking at.

If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets

Just stop your crying
It’s a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It’ll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here

I really don’t want to live in a world where so many fucking value guns over life… the life of children. My head hurts, my soul cries, my brain cannot handle…

depression, emotions

Pride2022

June is Pride month. I am doing my best this year, but I don’t have a lot of pride this year. Let’s be honest here. The last two years I have gotten older. I have gained weight. I have been spending most of my time at a desk for work or for school. Apparently I have outdated ideas for how to celebrate Pride.

I have not seen the extent of the ageism in the LGBTQIA+ community until recently. I was not a pioneer of the Pride movement, and there was an entire generation before me. I have, however, pushed and screamed to get equality. I dreamed of having a wedding where I walked down the aisle in an outfit with the top half being a tuxedo and the bottom half being a sprawling wedding gown. Black of course.

The time was not right, though. I did not have a lot of openly gay idols. I typically stuck with my divas like Madonna, Tina Turner, and, of course, my idol, Cyndi Lauper. I remember in high school when I waited until after first period, which was wood shop, to run to the bathroom and use temporary dye to put orange and yellow streaks in my hair. I remember having the checkerboard shaved into the side of my head. But, and here is where my origin story music would start, I was bullied. I was knocked down. I was tossed against the locker. I was fucking weird.

I left home at 17 to get out and find the world. I spent the summer with my oldest brother to visit and get advice on school. I enrolled at a university but at the last minute, I dropped out. What if life at that university was the same as my high school? I would be all alone in a city of millions of people and no one to turn to. No one to go home to.

I made some friends in the town that I was in. Obviously I moved out of my brother’s place. But I stayed there. My friends loved me and we had fun, but I wasn’t honest with them yet. That was to come. That is another story for October.

I finally came out by accident. That’s a story for an afternoon at the bar. So many mimosas needed for those stories.

I joined the Navy. I was going to be a Nuclear Submarine Engineer, but Clinton signed the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell law. That is yet another story for another time, but I got booted.

As I look over my life and my experiences, the bullying, the gay bashing, the beatings, the drive-by beer bottle tosses, I can’t help but think that I deserve my place in the community. As I look for ways to celebrate and show our Pride, I keep getting the “that’s for old people” or “we don’t really do that anymore” or “how old are you?”.

And now, as we are approaching SF Pride, and as we are wrapping up the Pride month, I am tired again. This time, though, it’s not the same people pushing me down. This time, it’s different and I just don’t have the energy to fight today.

So, Happy Pride. Celebrate. Be yourself. Love yourself. Call me if you are feeling low or down or bad. You don’t have to be alone, but I am not going out to be there in the moments of Pride.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Motivation

Dumb

I hate feeling dumb or stupid. I work hard to keep my brain sharp and to look for ways to increase my knowledge on subjects.

I didn’t go to college when I finished high school. My anxiety could not handle the move to a place where no one would know me. My depression could not deal with going into a classroom consistently from week to week while also working full time.

Not going to college has always left me with a tiny feeling of dumbness in the back of my head. In the darkest corners.

With my new job that I started in 2020, I have the opportunity to go to school. It’s completely online. The costs are covered with my union dues. It was a simple thing to say yes.

There have been a few courses, though, that have been really tough. And struggling in school is not something I did growing up. It was easy. School was simple. Now the struggle makes me feel stupid. Dumb even. It is hard.

Now, I know that I am not stupid or dumb. I do not need anyone to tell me that. My depression needs to hear it though and I grow tired of talking to my depression and explaining things. I am not asking you to say I’m smart or beautiful. I just want you to know why I am sometimes hard on myself and others for not knowing something.

depression, emotions, Motivation

Older

I am older today than I was yesterday. It seems like such an amazing thing to say you are alive and another day older. Yet, there are those, especially in the gay community, that view that age as a disability. I am not just another day older. I am a figment of an ancient past. An artifact to be tossed in a museum.

The fight to be relevant in the gay community ended decades ago for me. I just do not care. I am not going to be a certain way or dress a certain way. I am not going to like something just because the community has embraced.

I like my gay bars. Community bars just aren’t the same. The protection and safety are not there. The younger generations may not understand the need for protection and safety when it comes to going out since the country has evolved quite a bit, especially in major cities.

I may be old and I may be an artifact, but Zeus was never a spring chicken either, baby.

depression, emotions

Amends

I feel like I am stuck in a nightmare and cannot wake up. I left for my trip to Indiana on Thursday, but I never made it there. I made it to the Dallas Fort Worth airport and then became stuck in a mess of cancellations and bad luck. My flight kept getting delayed over and over until, finally, it was just cancelled. American Airlines sent me a text to book a room, but they only paid for one night. They did not pay for the ride to the hotel. Or the ride back. The rebooked my flight for three days later. On my four day trip.

I made it to the hotel that night to find the handrail in the elevator was not attached to the wall. Simply leaning on the rail caused it to drop off. That was fun. The next morning I realized the sheets had dried blood spots on them. More fun.

I spent the night and half of Friday trying to rebook my trip to get to Indiana on Friday, or even early on Saturday. I finally gave up and asked them to send me home.

After $1,200 and more than 48 hours, I finally made it home. But I can’t get out of this funk that I am in. This darkness keeps wrapping itself around me. What did I do to anger the gods so much? I just do not know.

How do I make amends?

depression, emotions, Uncategorized

Me

Sometimes Google memories will show me a picture of myself and I’m happy and I’m laughing and I wonder, who is that person? How did that happen? But then I think back and my memory reminds me, there have been happy times. I have to remember that.

But when I get into my darkness and my little corner where there’s no light it’s sometimes hard for me to see that person. But luckily for me, Google memories keeps those thoughts close.

Sometimes it’s important to look back to see happier times and happier me. There is a fine line, though, between looking back fondly and getting stuck in the past.

depression, emotions

Gratitude

I grew up without a lot of stuff. My family was poor, but we did eat every day. Most days we had 3 meals even. I rarely had the latest and greatest toy, which is why I started working before I even went to high school. I wanted my own money for my own things. I think it is because of this that I learned to be grateful for what I have.

Over the years, though, that gratitude has dropped quite a bit. I appreciate what I have, but I want more. I need more. As my income increased, my need for “stuff” increased, and while I can recognize this, I do not know how to change it. I have enough stuff. I have too much stuff. How do I get back to not needing more?

I think part of my brain sees what others have and I do not want to miss out. I want to enjoy nights out. I want to buy frilly things. I want shiny objects. I want and I want, but I don’t need.

I tell myself that these things will help control my depression and lift my mood. In reality, though, I think it does the opposite. I have crowded my life with so much “stuff” that I do not have any time or room for the things that I need. I need interactions with people, but not too many. I need time to meditate and a clear space to do it. I need fun times with friends that are not expensive, but still enjoyable or even silly. These are the things that I need. But how do I make my gratitude recognize this?

What brings out the most gratitude in you?

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Story

I have a lot of stories. I have a lot of adventures in my head. When I was at my lowest, you were there for me. Alcohol, drugs, death…. you were there. You had no judgement. Decades later, I am who I am because of you.

You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess
No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what I’ve been through like you do
And I was made for you

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
Oh, but these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true, I was made for you

Thank you for believing in me.