ON EXPERIENCING LIFE — In Technicolor Vision.

Reflection from August 26th, 2011 @ Age 30

RE:  SPOILER ALERT — IT’S A **REAL** TREAT ;0)

It’s pretty crazy I just altogether hardly ever feel like writing anymore.  I guess I’m just too busy eating is all.  Honestly, I weigh at least 150 pounds, if not more.  It’s disgusting.  I’m disgusting.  It’s all just disgusting.

I mean, I’m sitting here and I’m disgusted because I just ate a fried chicken sandwich and fried potatoes from Chick-Fil-A.  It’s f’ing gross.  So anyways, that’s where I’m at right now.

What else?  I played sand volleyball last night and that was pretty much horrible.  Adam and I met up with Matt Whalen from high school, his fiancée, and a bunch of their other friends from various places, and it was just a mish mosh of getting to know strangers, flying balls, dirty feet, etc.  I hurt my thumb pretty bad, enough to become swollen, and I woke up this morning with an AWFUL pain in my neck (although whether it is related to the volleyball I am not sure…except that it sure seems pretty coincidental if you ask me).  I just don’t like trying to get to know people in circumstances that make that rather difficult, like when balls are flying at your face that you’re supposed to know how to hit over the net on to the other side.  It was just no fun.  I was afraid I was going to break my ankle, although I’m such a fat…ty I’m not sure I could even jump up into the air at this point to make that happen.

I’ve been in a pretty bad mood all in all lately.  Adam’s getting tired of it, and for awhile that made me angry because he was in such a horrible mood for like three weeks when he was on that chemo drug, and I had to put up with that—so why shouldn’t he have to put up with mine?  Although he had no control over whether he had to take that drug, whereas I do have control over my eating (although don’t ask me…I’d probably have to deny that at this point).  Except that the thing that makes me really angry is that Adam isn’t really completely without control.  He has some control—over whether he does his inhalers, and eats fruits and vegetables and good protein and balanced meals, and whether he takes his pills on time every day and doesn’t skip doses, whether he drinks alcohol which we know of all things affects his blood work results, etc.  He totally has at the very least some control over what his body is doing.  But he just kind of likes to ignore that.  Just like I like to ignore that I have control over my eating.  We both are doing it.  We’re both suffering because of it.  I don’t know, maybe it’s something we should both work together at—to make this here a better picture if you know what I mean.

I feel like my fingers are too fat for this keyboard, to be honest.  Although I never felt that way before, and I can’t imagine my fingers have grown that much fatter in 20 pounds.  Ohh my god, twenty pounds.  I guess it’s not that much in terms of losing it, but it sure makes a hell of a difference!  I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a shit ton of weight—but losing 20 pounds is way different than losing 25 or more pounds.  And to be honest, I don’t think I was ever lighter than 133 last year, so it’s more like 17 pounds that I’ve put on, which is just above 15.  So it’s not that horrible a circumstance I have put myself into.  It’s just making me feel horrible, and will certainly become horrible if I don’t put the brakes on and set myself in reverse here very soon.  So, all is not lost—but I’m certainly still not heading in the right direction.  Not where eating is concerned anyways.

On the other hand, I did work out twice this week (measly workouts, but workouts nonetheless).  And I have successfully not been smoking for over two weeks now.  So, you know, a couple steps forward, a few steps back, whatever.  I’m working on it.  I just need to work a little harder on it, this I know.

I really though, haven’t been writing at all lately.  I haven’t been writing emails hardly, writing in my journals, I haven’t been talking on the phone much, etc.  And another strange thing is that I have been waking up with headaches for about a week and a half, although this morning I did not have one which is good.  But what I have had consistently for the past two or three weeks is slight nausea in the afternoons.  I couldn’t be pregnant, there’s just no way.  I mean, I’m on birth control and Adam probably doesn’t have his vas deferens to begin with—and we haven’t had sex all that much anyways since my last period since Adam wasn’t feeling well and then was in the hospital for a week and all that, so I’m just not sure what the nausea is all about.  It sure is a difficult word to spell though.  I’ll go to the doctor on Monday if I still feel like that on Sunday.  I should have gone this week, but I keep hoping it will go away on its own.  So I don’t know, we’ll see.

I feel like I should speak and write and sound so much older or more mature or more boring or whatever than how I still end up sounding these days.  It’s getting better, but I am still feeling as though I’m acting, dressing, sounding, etc. younger than I should be at this point.  I think maybe it’s been that way for some time, in different respects; but I am especially noticing it now that I have reached the big 3-0, and become the big ESQ.  So, I’m working on figuring out how to deal with that; figuring out what I want to quit doing, what’s important enough to continue doing, what I can modify, etc. so that I feel consistent in being both who I am, who I perhaps feel I “should” be, and who I actually want to be.  It’s a tricky formula, that one.  I’m working on it though, as ever I am.

This actually feels pretty good, sitting here and writing.  Adam is going out with his friend Tony tonight, which I opted out of for a bath and relaxing evening to my lonesome to write or do whatever it is that I please, and also to give Adam to Tony for one-on-one, which although he would never admit it, is, I think, what Tony would prefer.  That may sound a little gay?  I don’t mean that they are gay.  I just mean that I, for example, like spending one-on-one time with my brother John, or with Nicole, or you know, with certain people, because you just talk about different things in different ways when it’s just one-on-one interaction.  So I think it will be good for Adam and fun for Tony, and nice for me too, because I kind of want an evening to do nothing in particular, and we have to get up in the AM early anyways to meet Andy and Rachel and Bryce and Ari (the happy lit-tle family… ;0) at the zoo in Powell by 10am sharp!  So it will be nice.  It will be ohh so lovely.

What else, what else?  Ohh yes, I don’t know how I could forget!!!  I told Adam I had been taking his painkillers and told him I was very sorry and asked him to “do something with them” (i.e. hide them or just for god’s sake get them away from me!).  He was…a little scared, definitely disappointed in me, and really not very happy; but he wasn’t really mad which kind of surprised me.  I thought he would be furious, but I think he appreciated that I told him.  That I told him I was doing that, that I told him I wanted to stop, that I asked for him to help me, and that I was trying to take steps in the right direction albeit a difficult direction in which to proceed.  So, that was really kind of nice, and I greatly appreciated that he recognized my efforts to do better, and responded accordingly (i.e. didn’t get angry with me…at least not for that…).

Ahh marriage…it’s something sweet.  LOL.  Or it’s something in any case.  I can’t even describe it really, but I’ll try, because I realize now that these are the things I wish I could look back on and remember where exactly it was that I was at.

Marriage is…well…marriage is many things.  Marriage is comfortable, to start with.  It is incredibly comforting for me to know that someone, or well, Adam, I suppose I can say, loves me so much that he wants to be bound to me for the rest of his (or my) life (depending on who dies first) (and maybe beyond that as well…I don’t know).  He loves me so deeply, and I love him deeply as well.  He loves me, and I love him, despite every flaw and weakness, every struggle we each have to overcome individually—we both want to be there for the other so that neither of us is ever alone.  I mean, what the hell else could you even ask for?  It’s fucking amazing (and I’m not being facetious).   

So that is wonderful and really just quite awe-inspiring, but as I said—marriage is many things.  Marriage is frustrating too.  It’s frustrating that I am forever now bound to this person (i.e. Adam) who leaves the toilet seat up, and doesn’t usually do the dishes or other housework unless I ask him too (and sometimes not even until I nag him too).  It can be frustrating that Adam leaves his clothes lying all around, that he leaves trash in my car, that he leaves shit lying on the stairs, which could trip me such that I fall and break my neck.  It’s frustrating that he likes different flavors in food (i.e. southwestern, tomato based, vinegary, etc.) than do I (i.e. garlic-y, creamy, herby, etc.), meaning he’s not always wild about what I cook, and I suppose likewise with me as to what he cooks.  What else?  I’m trying to be honest here…

It’s frustrating that he likes to leave boxes in his closet, which have been in his closet for years, without going through them once in awhile to discard what he doesn’t want or need or use anymore.  It drives me bonkers that he keeps clothes that he hasn’t worn in years, just in case he ever decides to wear them again.  I used to get really frustrated that he never made the bed, which in any case, I learned, didn’t really make a difference anyways because he always messes up the covers on the bed when he sleeps to such an extent that it’s more work to make the bed now than it ever was before when I slept alone.  But ahh, that’s just it.  When I used to sleep alone…

It’s all worth it, every single bit.  The above is just…well…it’s just the above.  It just is what it is, and that’s all that it is.  It’s overcome-able.  It’s frustrating, but also get-used-to-able.  I think the most difficult thing for me to have had to learn to deal with, is that Adam finds it difficult to be affectionate.  He, unlike myself, grew up in a very affectionately devoid household, with an incredibly, unbelievably affectionately devoid mother.  I mean she’s a whole other story, which I look forward, actually, to getting into now; but just not now, as in right this moment.  Suffice it to say, Adam was not prone to receiving affection when he was younger, or really much probably as he was growing up, or until I met him. 

I think maybe, now that I sit here thinking about it, that perhaps that was one of the things I loved most about Adam.  I think, because Adam was so affectionately devoid, that he was almost able to be even more receptive to my affection than would the normal human being placed in our given circumstances.  In any case, whatever it was, I loved giving it to him, and he ate it all up too, and it was abso-fucking-lutely wonderful ;0)  Every second of it.

Which brings me to this feeling I get—this bittersweet slashed with angry type of affection with regard to our earlier days, or rather, my lack of having recorded any of our earlier days.  But, I’ll continue, because there’s nothing I can really do about that now…

Anyways, I kind of lost track where I was going in any case, but the most challenging thing about my marriage thus far has been twofold: (1) that Adam struggles with showing affection; and (2) that Adam’s frustration, sadness, confusion, etc. all showcases itself in anger; and well (3), Adam’s attitude as it relates to same.  I can’t believe I’m sitting here writing this, but it’s real—and I want to make it real, and I want to be understood, for what I am saying is not all good, but it is not all bad either.  It is both, because it is real, which is what I too, would like to be (i.e. real).

So I guess those all go hand in hand though, which really makes it just three facets of the same, one thing.  It’s just how he processes emotions, you know?  It’s like the anger is easy come, hard to go.  The affection is hard to come, so easily the first to go.  It’s a struggle, to deal with, mainly because I’m an incredibly affectionate, and affectionately based person.  I love to be affectionate; I love for others to be affectionate with me.  I love showing my affection to those that I love overtly, and I will go way out of my way to do so.  I believe that I am loved when others show affection for me.  I just l-o-v-e affection, and think it’s simply one of the most wonderful things in the world, for what is love without affection in the first place?

And the fact is, it just simply does not come easily to Adam, just as the social stuff does not come easily to me.  So there are things that we will have to continue to work on, but for now, Adam just got home and I don’t want him to see what I am writing about…so I shall be back shortly, but later…;0)

Later

Well…after rooting around for an hour…LOL….nuthin’!  Ohh and the frustration continues ;0)

Adam just makes me feel so…not focused; as in, it’s hard to focus on anything really when he’s around.  I don’t know why really.  I could probably pin something down if I tried, but I don’t really care to at the moment anyways.  All I know is he came home, told me about how frustrating I can be with my social anxieties, we discussed, both felt a little better, he got ready to go out with Tony, we hugged and kissed and then he left.  And then I started rooting around for the painkillers because, although I know that’s wrong to do, it sure would make for an even more enjoyable evening at home tonight.  And so says the girl (flash into the future) who almost OD’d on painkillers…not so good, Maris…

So anyways, now I feel distracted and don’t really know where to continue on from or to…don’t even know if I feel like it.  I do want to continue working on my putting my book together, but I am dreading it like I dread working out…it’s just gonna be so much damn hard work!  And so I’m procrastinating like I’m never going to get old (which I obviously know is not the case, now that I’ve hit the big 3-0 and all).  So I’m not really sure what the hell I’m waiting for…for it to get easier I suppose.  And so I wish…and wait…and get fatter and less motivated and time keeps passing by without me bettering myself for the good of all.  Ohh boy…

Well, I guess if you’re really all that interested, LOL, I’ll tell you some things about my day-to-day life.  For example, aside from taking painkillers recreationally (before I outed myself…for my own self-betterment…LOL), I’ve been making these sparkling lemonade drinks, which I totally adore!  It’s just simple syrup, freshly squeezed lemon juice, sparkling water, ice and a straw!  And it’s deliciously refreshing!  So that’s been nice and enjoyable, one of the few things…(just kidding ;0).

Also, they’ve been showing Sex and the City reruns on E! in order from series start to finish, which has been awesome and which I’ve spent countless hours watching.  I simply adore that Carrie Bradshaw and all her little friends, though much to my dismay (or pleasure?) I find I’m most like Charlotte (uptight, idealistic, hopelessly romantic…need I say more?).  I think I have a little Carrie in me, but I’m much more like Charlotte than any of the other girls.  Not that you’re at all interested in this type of detail, but just in case you were to ask, and I were no longer around…;0)

Moving on, I can barely fit in my clothes right now.  I long to put on a pair of pants and have them be ever so slightly baggy in the thighs and waist, with the ability, if I wanted to, the choice—to tuck a shirt in and wear a belt if I so desired (which I do).  Umm, I find that I can’t really write very well when Adam is around, just because, for some reason, I get totally distracted, even if he’s off doing his own thing.  It’s weird, but true.  It bothers me, but I need to get better at focusing amidst the chaos, and this isn’t really even chaos (cue…kids).  So maybe it’s just preparing me to be able to be successful in the future; yeah, that’s exactly it, isn’t it?  LOL…I guess it’s all in what you make of it, in any case.

What else?  Dana started law school!  And Tiffani (who I have yet to see, since probably, 2001) took the bar exam again in July!  I’m so excited for both of them!  It’s so fun to hear from Dana and to be able to answer questions in an at-least-partially-correct manner when she needs help.  It’s nice to have been through it all and try to help guide her through it now.  It’s nice to be of help, to know that I’ve been through it and there’s a possibility, at the very least, that I could be of some sort of help, if she needs it.  To know that I am there for her, and to know that she knows that I am there for her; there’s nothing like it.

As for JenJen, she’s preggers—about 7 months now.  It’s strange; I don’t really know where our relationship stands right now.  We talked on the phone for about an hour and a half, about a week ago, and I found myself saying, “yeah, this and that is such a challenge,” and, “so and so is certainly a struggle,” and things of the like, except over and over and over again.  It was certainly strange, and I wondered if Jen thought so too.  I don’t know why I was speaking like that, I just was.  But in any case, I really kind of felt bad for her. 

Jen’s been moving around like mad since college—from Tucson, to Texas, to Clovis, NM, back to Texas, and I swear there were probably about 10 more moves in there somewhere (except, maybe not, but it sure seems that way!).  Ohh yeah, how could I forget?!  DC, her main flagship!  Her precious Geico and her ohh so dear profit-sharing…ohh boy, here I go. 

The truth is, Jen was telling me this story about how she got in a fight with her sister (the biggest bitch of all…although I do think of her fondly nonetheless), and how her sister accidentally sent her a text that was meant for her sister’s friend, and not her.  The text said how much of a bitch Jen is, and how she’s been such a bitch for a long time, and she’s all into everything that is Jen, and how her mom thinks the same thing, and just won’t say it to Jen’s face.  And it’s like, my god, Jen gave half her fucking liver to her father—how can this girl be saying these things?

But to be honest, and I hate to be the one, but…in any case, I found myself wondering, is Katie struggling with the same thing I have been struggling with, in regard to Jen, all these years since college?  Am I not the only one in this?  Am I not alone? 

It just seems to me, somehow, over the years since college, Jen became completely materialistic.  She talked about money all the time—how much she was making, how much she was saving, how much she got in bonuses every year, how much she was spending.  I mean it, all the fucking time.  And of course, with regard to same, she would speak about how she spent it, and how she was spending it, and how she was going to spend it.  And maybe, I do think, this makes it sound a little worse than it was; but I assure you, not by much.  I just don’t know where she got lost along the way.  I think it was when she left Tucson for the first time, and moved to DC to work at the big bad Geico headquarters.  Yes, I do believe, from that time forward, the fundamental change began to happen.

I really do hate to talk about her in this way, especially knowing all my own shortcomings, and knowing that there are probably ones worse than what I myself can even see, and knowing this all the same and continuing on.  But it’s on my mind, it’s part of my life, it’s part of me; she’s a part of me.  And so I write, and I hope to feel better, and I wonder whether I am doing the right thing, and if so for whom, and even then, if at the right time.

It’s been very disappointing, to be honest, although I cannot say that I have not been a disappointment to her as well.  I sent her the beginning years of my journals, and said some things about her that were not so nice—in fact they were not nice at all, and in some instances, downright mean.  And I tried to couch it in the fact that I was going through a difficult time, and I didn’t really mean it, and that I think she is a wonderful and amazing and beautiful person.  But I don’t know that those words were any consolation to her.  I do believe that sharing those journals with her, or at least certain specific entries from that time period, was a mistake, and hurt her deeply.  I remember her telling me she thought my writing was amazing.  I also remember her telling me she was so surprised at my competitive nature towards her, how it revealed itself in my dialogue.  She always thought we had a special relationship because we were not that way with one another.  She was surprised to find out that we really were no different, or at least that I was not in any case.  Not that it makes any difference, but I don’t know that she was without any competitive edge herself.  But in any event, I know that I hurt her, and I don’t know that things have never been quite the same since.

I think from that point on, maybe it was coincidental that it coincided with DC/Geico/profit-sharing/etc., but I think maybe it was from that point on, that her materialism began.  Maybe it was even worse with me in particular, because maybe she was using that to hurt me, and to make herself feel better in return.  I certainly have not accomplished nearly the financial status that has she.  But it does make me wonder, what it all means in the end anyways.

When I was speaking to her recently, she was telling me about how her relationship with her entire immediate family—her dad and mom and sister, has completely deteriorated.  It started a long time ago (again, I do wonder when), but has only been growing deeper seeded over the years.  I almost think she holds herself above them, because she is financially well off, and “made it”, at least more so than did they, in the corporate world.  She’s been on a million vacations, has designer clothes, and makeup galore.  She’s got (or at least had) granite countertops and hardwood floors.  She’s got a nice convertible, money in the bank, a fat 401K, no debt.  But it really does still make me wonder, what does it all mean in the end?

Her relationship with her family has dissipated—whether it’s all her fault or not, I really cannot say; but nonetheless, it’s disintegrated to something close to nothing that remains.  She certainly seems to have a wonderful and devoted husband—but never talks about it, so I do not know.  She has friends, but I don’t know how close, and she hasn’t had many with whom she can truly share her honest self with, for some time. 

As an aside, I feel very fortunate to have a wonderful family with whom I am close.  I feel extremely fortunate to have the few close friends I have, and be developing a relationship with Nicole now, my first real girlfriend in Columbus.  Friends are tough to come by, especially the great ones, with whom you can share your entire being.  And family is really tough, because you don’t even have a choice in the matter.  But all the same, I still question, whether the person she has become, or at least seemed to become from my perspective, has anything to do with it.  And again, in light of same, I come with just as many if not more faults—so I’m not sure whether it’s even fair of me to be talking about Adam’s and Jen’s.  But this is me, this is my being, I choose to share, preserve, or whatever you want to call it.  So I write on, and try to make sense of it all, and try to keep moving forward in this so-called life.

Anyway, I’m getting off point again, so let me bring myself back to it.  I love JenJen, and I always will, and in a very deep and meaningful manner that has made more of a difference in my life than most anyone else on this earth.  I love her with all my heart.  But I have felt that over the years, I have lost her.  And I wonder if she ever feels like she has lost her, as well.  I wonder if I have lost me.  I wonder if this feeling of “losing” oneself is really just change, and growth, and personal development—good or bad, but all the same.  I don’t know.  I don’t know the answers; I’m not even sure I know the questions, which is kind of funny, if we’re being frank.  It’s just funny how I begin knowing, and then questioning, and then realizing I don’t really know anything at all.  And then all I do is wonder, and then they wonder how I can be so spacey ;0)  Well here it is!  This is how.

And here I am, in a quiet house, Adam gone for the evening, writing by the light of the setting sun, without painkillers, and I feel absolutely fabulous.  I feel like me.  I feel like I miss me, when I am gone.  And as it follows, I’ve missed Jen, since she’s been gone.  She just left so long ago.  It makes me sad, when I think about how our relationship, too, has deteriorated over the years.  I don’t know what to do; I don’t know if I should write to her, and quite honestly, I don’t know if she would even care to listen.  And hence, I’m right back where I started—I just don’t know what to do.

But maybe to be me, to be who I am, and find who she was, and where she went—I need to bring that affection to the table.  Maybe she needs more than an “I love you, and I miss you, and I’ll talk with you more soon.”  Maybe she needs more than that, and maybe she wants more than that, and maybe she just doesn’t know how to tell me.  I mean, I need more and want more from her, and I haven’t been forthcoming either.  So maybe here, as I come to clearer vision, I can see the answer.  I don’t know what to say really, or how to go about saying it in the first place—but I think I know that, that I need to say something.  I need to do something, and in that action, I will come back to me.  And I think I will find her, or at least get closer in the process, to finding what I am searching for; to find, really, what I have been missing for so long.

So there you have it!  It’s a wonder the way I can work through things, and find answers, just by conversing with myself!  I love writing; I love, love, love it!  And I want to use it to help myself, to help Jen and to help anyone else who is willing to listen.  I just have to get up off my lazy ass, lose 30 pounds and feel better in the process, ask Adam to make himself busy outside the house for a few hours once or twice a week, make a commitment to use that time to write, and then just do it.  I know I can, it’s just a matter of self-will.  There’s no doubt in my mind that I can, and what’s even better, that it will bring me back to my self.  I’ve been looking so hard to find an answer in drugs, the legal ones and not so legal ones—but I think the answer is right where the question began.  It’s all in my mind, my friend.  It’s all there for me to find.

Thoughts?

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