Crossroads

Crossroads. My life, ever so turbulent, takes another turn. I'm trying little things to ward off feelings of sadness, by using little tricks I've learned. Since I am not working, I get up every day at the same time. No hitting the alarm clock for extra ZZZZ's.

Every day has to have a routine. This is the hardest thing for newly retired people to learn, when you are use to working you have a routine. I get up, use the toilet, wash face, brush teeth. Have something for breakfast- usually cold cereal and milk. After breakfast, clean, dust, do the things I am supposed to.

Once a week go to the laundrymat. Once a week go grocery shopping at the big box store. Once a week go to the farmers market for local produce and what not. Help out the local farmers.

Set aside a time to write. I've been guilty of this in the past- I write when the mood strikes me. No discipline. I don't know how this is going to work.

I don't mind the Weight Watchers. I feel good about it, but in hindsight, I should have waited a week to start. I had the monthly 5 pound bloat when I started so when I step on the scale in two days it's going to look like I've lost more weight than I really did.


Two days after writing the last blog post, I fell into a kind of hypomania. I was full of energy, and actually wanted to be around people. I got a lot done, but as luck would have it the next day I couldn't get out of bed.

These are all good things, good goals. Yet I feel like I need to do something more. Something for me.

I've been (dare I say it) thinking of going back to school for another Masters.

There is a local university with a Masters degree in Applied Psychology. They would waive the GRE requirement for me because I won't be able to pass the tests at this point, even though the last time I took these tests was in the mid80s. The degree might be too much for me, so the school would allow me to take one course, non - matric  in the Fall, and if I pass that, matric in the program. What would it leave me with? Something I haven't done in years- a peer counselor.

Here's my thinking. I am about to enter the second half of my life. Some things are off the table that might have been on the table during the first part. Marriage is one. Yes,I am seeing a wonderful man, but I would not marry him at this point, because my marriage was annulled and it was not so good.  We had absolutely nothing in common, other than a label, and you can't make a relationship based on that. It wasn't anyone's fault it ended, yet it was both of ours, since we had, at the end of the day, nothing in common, and when it ended neither one of us even liked each other.  I like being single. It's a huge thing to admit, some people love being in couples, some don't. In hindsight, playing the Monday morning quarterback, I love being single, spending every other weekend with the boyfriend, and maybe one night a week. It's perfect.

It also helps that children are off the table. Don't get me wrong. My biggest regret in life will be that I didn't have children. I wanted to be a mommy. It didn't happen. I made mistakes with my career goals and forgot to date- or I did a lot of dating but nothing ever worked out.
I can still biologically have them, but at this stage of my life- it's not feasible. It's ok.

My career goals have been thwarted. You need a goal in your life to keep you going, and I am finally realizing that what worked for Susan when she was in her 30s isn't going to work now. The world has changed. Life has changed. The economy has changed. I need to be flexible and try to adapt to it, to become something new and wonderful from it.

One of the wonderful things about living in the USA is you can always reinvent yourself. Americans love people who fall and then rise up, only to become better than they were. Look at Tiger Woods for example. He's back and right now, doing as good, if not better than he was in the past.

I think with my usually calm nature, and big heart I can help listen to others. I like doing that. I really do. it would give me a reason to get up every day. I just don't know if my brain is up to the task of going back to school. It may not be. Thus, I think the idea of one class, is a good idea. If I can't do it, I can't. It's all good.

The other thing is I need to take my writing more seriously. It's the only thing I know how to do really really well and I need to find some freelance markets for it. I haven't been writing so much lately because I don't know what to say. My life is stagnant. I'm not drowning but I am not surviving. I just am.

This does not make good reading. It's good for me that I am on an even keel, it's bad for my writing, because it lends for boring reading. So I've been doing a lot of thinking, how I want to live the second part of my life.

The second part of my life. Wow. "Grow old with me, the best is yet to be", wrote Browning.

For the first time in my life, I am looking forward to the second chapter. It's wonderful to say that. It's scary but at the same time, optimistic.  Let's hope it's interesting.

Avoiding Triggers and Bad News

I don't want to write this piece, but I feel like it's mandatory.

Unless you've been off line the last day or so, once again the US had a fatal public shooting, this time during a midnight opening showing of the new "Batman" movie.

Once again, the media, doing what they do, run an interview the survivors. Hear the horrible tales. For the next few weeks, we will be assaulted by news of the burials, and learn more about the shooter. The shooter will get a fair trial and then when it's over, banished to the back pages, brought out only when the next one happens, where ever it happens, what country it happens in.

Here is some wisdom they don't teach you in Kindergarten. Life is hard. Some people are nice, some people are not nice. Mean people suck. Life isn't sunshine and rainbows, bad things will happen to you. Hopefully the worst things a human being goes through is loosing family members, sheerly by out living them. Your grandparents, your parents. Your beloved pets.

You will get your heart broken. It will hurt like hell. The amazing thing is the next time it happens the pain is a little less.

You will hear/see things you would not normally see in this world. That's because as Social Media makes us closer, it also gives us too much information. We know can read about the death of a despot, Social Media makes it possible for people to tweet, You Tube pictures of it happening.

So you are feeling fragile today. So am I. Here are a few tricks I've learned from working in a news environment, and just from living through some horrific things in my life.

You need to take care of you. Turn off the TV. Don't watch the news. Turn it off. If you must watch TV, watch something like a sporting event, or a cooking show. Even children's TV shows. (There are a few real good ones. I've just discovered Phinneas and Ferb).

Is it a nice day where you are? Get dressed and go for a walk. Have a dog? Take it for a walk, or a dog park. If you are single, this is the best thing you can do. Maybe you will meet the love of your life. Hey, it's happened for several people I know. (I've even met a guy once who was walking his cat).

Speaking of parks- wonderful places. Go to one with a small picnic lunch, or if you live in a city, buy a hot dog and a soda, find a bench and watch the people. Buy some bread and feed the pigeons, just getting happy seeing the pigeons enjoying the bread. Sounds silly? One of the smartest men ever, Tesla, loved feeding the pigeons every day in the park when he was in NYC during the last few years of his life. If it worked for Tesla, it might work for you.

I understand if you are afraid to go to the movies, - that's OK. Why not rent a movie? A lot of this year's Oscar winning films are now on DVD. Have a favorite TV show on DVD  you've been meaning to watch? Do it. (Yesterday I wasted six hours sitting on the couch watching old Red Dwarfs. It's my favorite TV show ever, and it always cheers me).

If you can get to the sea, a lake, or the ocean, that is very relaxing. Unfortunately, the traffic to these places really can give you agita, so it's a double edged sword.

A Library is a great to go, or if you would rather, go to a bookstore, and get a coffee. Go to a coffee shop.

Listen to music, or a book on tape.

When all else fails- take a nap. Hey, nothing wrong with a nap on the weekend. Just don't make it more than an hour or so. it's a NAP, you don't want to be awake all night because your nap was four hours.

Some other ways (children leave the room) if you have a partner, or are married- well, have some "alone time". Sex is a wonderful thing, it burns calories (yay!) releases endorphins (yay) and it makes you feel good and close to someone.  If you don't have a partner or are not in a relationship- well,  I understand, I'm in that boat too.  A nice long bubble bath works for me in this case.

Turn any instant news texts/alerts on your cell, if you get them. Turn off your computer. It will be there tomorrow. Pretend you live 100 years ago, before computers and phones were invented.

Take care of you. You are the most important person in the universe. If you are over a certain age, no one will take care of you, you have to take care of you. You can't be a friend to someone if you are in a bad patch. And the whole idea is to avoid bad patches, and triggers so you can stay in good shape, physically and mentally.


Now it's time for me to follow my advice. I'm logging off for the day, and I'm going to go out and go to a coffee shop. I'm the cute blonde wearing a black t shirt and denim clam diggers, with a green and blue scarf with flowers, drinking the mochachinno.

There but for the grace of you go I

It's been hotter than Hades here on the East Coast. Indeed, news reports are saying it's the warmest weather in over 100. Records are being smashed.

All I know, baby it's hot outside. So I stay inside, with a semi working air conditioner that is doing the best job to keep me cool. I can't complain. I have electricity. Parts of the East Coast are still without electricity, and other parts are suffering brown outs because the electric companies cannot keep up with demand.

It's all good.

I daydream a lot that I am in Antarctica. Or the North Pole. Someplace nice and cold. With penguins. And ice.  Can you imagine anything better for a daydream? (Hey folks, this is a G rated blog).

So I found myself at the local supermarket- a ginormous supermarket, getting a few things to eat and various important things like the dreaded toilet paper. Cottage cheese and fruit. It's too hot to eat anything heavy. Some cream for my coffee. Some brown sugar for my tea. A five pound bag of ice to stick in the bathtub and just try to cool off with.

Then I saw her when I was at the salad bar, making dinner for the night.  A woman in her sixties, Immaculately dressed, like she just came out of church, including the requisite church ladies hat in a lovely shade of fuchsia. Thinner than Kate Moss. And with a very strange look in her eye, she yelled at me "Who you staring at bitch"?

I didn't look at her, said a silent prayer that she would just move on. Again, she comes up to me, says a few words which I cannot repeat and spits at me.

I've never seen anyone spit on another human being, other than the now famous VH1 New York/Pumpkin spit episode. I thought it was something done in movies and soap operas, like slapping someone's face, or spilling a drink on someone at a bar.

I don't know what to say, I don't want to look up. The manager comes by. Again, she yells and curses out the manager. A stock clerk who knows this lady, comes over to her, and walks her away, her cursing out a group of people very loudly.

The manager hands me a tissue. Do you want to press charges? The police are on their way. Several other store patrons are pressing charges. I shake my head, no, and hand him my salad. I don't want it now. I don't want any of my groceries. I just want to go home and take a shower. I feel dirty.

"What will happen to her", I finally ask. He replies the cops will take her to the local ER. The ER will evaluate her- make sure she's not drunk or high. He thinks she is on something but doesn't know. "She's a regular", he states. "I've never seen her like this".


On the way out the the door, I see from the corner of my eye, a police car with the woman sitting in the back. I  can hear her cursing as I walk by, despite the windows being up.

Drunk or high. I hope for her case that is all it is. I'm afraid it might be worse- something wrong with her soul. Her eyes scared me when I took my brief glimpse in them. It was like her soul was missing. I've only seen that once before in my life.

I haven't slept since this encounter. It's not due to the heat- it's due to what I am afraid is happening to this woman. I'm hoping she was drunk or high, and released after 12 hours. I'm afraid she was taken to the ER, and is now in a mental hospital. I picture her sitting in a chair, doped up the gills on a drug cocktail like Thorazine,so she's restrained and not spitting. Staring catatonic at a TV screen. Lost in a universe of her own making, imprisoned in her mind.

I know what it's like to be cranky and miserable in this heat. It brings out the worst in me. Add to the mix, hot flashes, and I am beyond cranky. But not at a point where I will spit. Never there. How do I know this woman wasn't just over tired with the heat, hungry and feeling miserable. This might have lead her to a break where one brief moment she made some bad judgements and felt at the end of the rope? Couldn't they just give her a nice cold drink and calm her down.

I need to get dinner for tonight but it's too hot to eat. I'll have an iced tea and a pb and j sandwich. Perhaps tomorrow I will go to the store to get some fruit and since it's a small town, learn about what happened to this poor woman.

On the other hand, maybe I should go a few more miles down the road to the next closest grocery store. I'm afraid I don't want to know what really transpired.

See, how do I know that won't be me some day?

ETA: Big Thanks to Anthony at My Sick Mind for giving me the actual correct quote for the title. Anthony you rock!

The urge to take the blue pill

There's this thin blonde with long legs and an incredibly short mini skirt, five inch black Manolo's, and a Channel bag. The kind of woman that when ever she enters the room every eye turns on her, both male and female. The females all hate her because her clothes and her makeup and hair are impeccable. The men all want - well duh! (This is a G rated blog!)

The tall, dark, handsome, man comes up to her and offers her a drink. She takes it in her perfectly manicured hands. They lock eyes and make small talk. "I'm Elmer T. Fudd, Millionaire. I own a mansion and a yacht." 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. 

It's seven am, my alarm clock interrupts my reverie. It's just as well, my beautiful dream was unfolding- what the heck? Elmer Fudd? 

Only in my dreams do I feel pretty and look the way I want to be. Thin and tall. With long legs, like a Rockette's. Men notice me, something that doesn't happen often. Since adolescence I've been cursed with always being the "cute, quirky best friend" of the female protagonist in all the chick lit books and movies. It's fine when you are in your twenties, but when you get older- you want something a bit more. To be top banana. Just once. 

I'm going more and more into dream world. It's safe there. I can be anything I want to be. The world is perfect. There aren't 7 million people crammed together on one planet, it's just me, my Prince Charming, a library in the castle, and of course, some cats and dogs. Everything is beautiful, and nobody gets hurt. 

I don't want to wake. 

I really hate my life right now. Hmm. Hate is a harsh word, let's restate. I dislike my life right now. I miss working, I miss being around people. I'm tired of being tired from the kidney meds and other meds I am on. I'm sleeping 16 hours a day. My brain feels like split pea soup. 

I  can't see a way out of my morass, despite the things I am trying to do to stay out of it. I am getting dressed every day. I do the little hygiene things, brush teeth, brush hair. Remember to shower every day, and wash hair every second. Under normal circumstances, these things make me feel better. Now they don't. I even go to an old standby- a long bath, and a scented candle. Nothing. 

Even a self manicure doesn't ameliorate, despite a beautiful new shade of polish. 

I don't have the energy to go to the gym, but I try to walk. My feet are like lead- I can barely move them. There is nothing physically wrong with them, it takes more energy to move them than I have. Something flickers in my mind- High School chemistry, energy required to move an inanimate object. 

I'm not comfortable being around people anymore. It takes too much effort to do something like smile. The art of desultory conversation is lost. I just want to be invisible. I long for my childhood dreams of being invisible and flying. I hate New Jersey. I can fly anywhere to get out of this hell, despite the fact I have an incredible fear of heights. Somehow in my flying dreams, this is not an issue. 

I know it's depression oriented. I know as I am getting older, my depressive episodes are getting worse and worse, each one a bit more lethal while I am under it. Mania hardly ever comes anymore, my last bit of mania was in February. I despair thinking that each episode will get worse. No silver lining. At least I have my dreams. 

I walk back from the supermarket across the street. Kitty food, and a Subway for dinner. It should be good, I have not eaten in over 24 hours. I feed the cat, change her box, give her some love, and some play. Put the sandwich in the fridge, I'm not that hungry, really. It will keep. I put my pj's back on, tie my hair up in a scrunchie, brush my teeth, wash my face. Back to bed. The sheets feel glorious. The electric blanket gets turned on. I turn out the light, and lie on my back, looking at the sun reflecting on the falling leaves from the bedroom window. The cat comes in and burrows next to me, her breath smelling like Fancy Feast fish. It's a little bit of heaven. I'm still blue, but I'm near dream land. And in my dreams I can be anything or anyone I want to be. It's not the right decision, but for now, it's the only one I want to make. 

Trying to stay upbeat

One of the things I am noticing after my near death experience is how precious life is. I will and hope I never forget the look on my mother's face when the doctor told her I was going to make it. I was practically unconscious at the time, but her smile is ingrained in my head.

I recall how wonderful everything was. The smells, the people, being able to look out the window and see rain, and trees  with practically bare branches, and just being grateful for every breath I took. It didn't matter that I felt my life was in the toilet and I was going nowhere with no dreams, it was just glad to be alive.

AA calls it "An attitude of gratitude". I felt the same way when I was newly sober, how wonderful life is when you aren't drinking. It went away after a few months, and once again, I became cynical, and curmudgeonly, isolating myself away from people and once again building walls around myself that no one could penetrate so I couldn't be hurt.

In the last twelve hours or so I've lost that attitude again. There is a part of me that wishes I had died. Maybe I'm on the pity pot. Maybe I just miss the cat and need a cute fix. But I just don't see the future again. If anything I feel like Job, why have I been forgotten, how much physical pain can I take before I break? Why did my kidneys fail and why am I having such problems with my bladder and my female bits now?

There are people worse off than me. I know this. I just have to watch the evening news to see stories of children who just lost lost a parent, people loosing their houses, parents who lost a child. Soldiers coming back from wars missing legs from bombs. As much as I detest physical therapy, I keep thinking, "Susan, you have two legs, you will be able to walk without a walker soon".

In other words, in the immortal words of Monty Python "Always look on the bright side of life".

Ha! My parents bring in medical bills. I owe money to doctors, to hospital. I'm not working. Is my writing good enough to sell? I'm rusty. Does anyone want to hire a mental health blogger? There are so many of us on the blogosphere. Should I finish my novel, and try to publish it to the big guys or go independent? Or do I even want to bother with it? At one time my play was considered for an Off Off Broadway venue. Should I try to peddle it again?
Will the economy improve so I can make a living again from my pen?

And the worst feeling of all, can a 40 something compete with all the 20 somethings out there? When I was in my 20s my writing was top notch, even if I look at a lot of it now and think of it as "gifted juvenilia". Perhaps it was a bad thing that I got awards and heavily published before I was 23. I thought it was easy, now I realize it was because of professors and networking.

I am lost. I keep dreaming the same dream, I'm lost. Sometimes I am in a forest, sometimes I am in my native Manhattan. And I cannot find my way home. I cannot get home. I know it's stemming from the fact I am not home right now, I am still recooping at my parents house until I am able to climb stairs and stand long enough to do simple things like cook dinner or take a shower. I miss my place, I miss my cat. I want to see her for Christmas. I want to sleep in my own bed again.

I look at people my age, they have children, and I'm not going to ever have any. It hurts. I never ever want to get married again, that hurt too much too. I have to let it go. Every time I see a toy commercial on TV now, it's like a dagger in my heart. Every time I see a commercial for a jewelry store it's another dagger, some guy buying some nice bauble for his girl for the holiday. I don't really wear jewelry, but....

And then there is New Years Eve. One more New Years in my life without being near a special person at midnight.  Sigh. Yes, I will be with my parents, and they are special, but, there is a lot to be said about a  good snog.

Sigh. Does anyone want to hire me? I hope I can find some work in 2011. I just want to get better and work again and join the human race again. That's how to get off the pity pot. I need to find a paying market. My body is rusty, my writing is rusty. With practice and hard work they both should be at their best soon. And then maybe someone will want me.  Hopefully soon.