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Dec. 7th, 2014 12:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blackbirdblogI have been thinking I ought to be writing about all this. Then I come to the blog and see all the happy moments from the past, and how it ended with KW, and I get thrown by the pain of it, and close the laptop screen and push it far away. Why did I record all of that, I wonder. Sometimes the things I record definitely do help, because I have such a bad memory and it is good to be reminded of ways I felt or decisions I made. There have been things in the last few months I wish I would have recorded. Guess I will have to do my best to remember......
I took a trip out West with a casual friend, an acquaintence almost, named JK. He is the cousin of my old manager when I was a kayak guide on the OBX, and we met a few times at the beach and a couple of times here in P. He was between jobs and planning a trip to the national parks in Southern Utah, and after my horrendous summer I was really looking to escape so I invited myself along. The trip was amazing. I recorded a few sentences each day, hoping to later expand the writing, but I doubt I will ever get around to that. I felt so wonderful and free, and like the past didn't matter, and everything was going to be ok. I felt peaceful about my father because he loved the West, too, and he couldn't take this trip...but I could. I felt peaceful about KW because it seemed like our break up was a gift without which this trip wouldn't have been possible, and leaving him opened up all the wondrous possibilities of the future.
On the night I got back, I knew on a subconscious level that the freedom was gone. I cried on the plane, but I often do for some reason. Then I cried at JM's apartment after she picked me up, and she saw it but didn't say anything. Reality becomes further and further removed from the joy and freedom I felt while traveling. I feel tearful most of the day, but usually they only fall in the evenings, after I get back to my quiet apartment. Occasionally when I am alone in the car with too much time to think. But this morning I woke up crying. Mornings are usually when I feel the best, and most productive and hopeful. I am feeling a bit concerned about this. If there is not at least one point in the day when I feel positive, how will I ever find my way back to being happy? I have been going to yoga class on Wednesday mornings religiously. Even if I don't really feel like it, I know it is a good thing to do and it is always the right choice. So at least there is still one time during the week when I feel something good.
I am wondering how much the weather has to do with my mood. The sun has not shown in P for over two weeks. It is actually out this morning, and I would like to go out for a run, but it is still cold. JM invited me down to watch the football game, but I don't know if I ought to be around people right now.
When we parted ways at the end of our trip, JK was heading to Europe to do some sight-seeing in Ireland and Spain, before meeting up with a 63' sailing ship in Valencia and then serving as first mate through Gibraltar, Canary Islands, and across the Atlantic to Antigua. We sent a few messages back and forth, and finally Skyped the day before he was setting sail for Antigua, and he said I should join when he gets there. It will be over Christmas, which is perfect for me because I hate Christmas and opt out whenever possible. I do think of my mother, and this being her first Christmas without my dad, and my tremendous sense of obligation to family. But that is a whole other topic to explore in another post...........
I took a trip out West with a casual friend, an acquaintence almost, named JK. He is the cousin of my old manager when I was a kayak guide on the OBX, and we met a few times at the beach and a couple of times here in P. He was between jobs and planning a trip to the national parks in Southern Utah, and after my horrendous summer I was really looking to escape so I invited myself along. The trip was amazing. I recorded a few sentences each day, hoping to later expand the writing, but I doubt I will ever get around to that. I felt so wonderful and free, and like the past didn't matter, and everything was going to be ok. I felt peaceful about my father because he loved the West, too, and he couldn't take this trip...but I could. I felt peaceful about KW because it seemed like our break up was a gift without which this trip wouldn't have been possible, and leaving him opened up all the wondrous possibilities of the future.
On the night I got back, I knew on a subconscious level that the freedom was gone. I cried on the plane, but I often do for some reason. Then I cried at JM's apartment after she picked me up, and she saw it but didn't say anything. Reality becomes further and further removed from the joy and freedom I felt while traveling. I feel tearful most of the day, but usually they only fall in the evenings, after I get back to my quiet apartment. Occasionally when I am alone in the car with too much time to think. But this morning I woke up crying. Mornings are usually when I feel the best, and most productive and hopeful. I am feeling a bit concerned about this. If there is not at least one point in the day when I feel positive, how will I ever find my way back to being happy? I have been going to yoga class on Wednesday mornings religiously. Even if I don't really feel like it, I know it is a good thing to do and it is always the right choice. So at least there is still one time during the week when I feel something good.
I am wondering how much the weather has to do with my mood. The sun has not shown in P for over two weeks. It is actually out this morning, and I would like to go out for a run, but it is still cold. JM invited me down to watch the football game, but I don't know if I ought to be around people right now.
When we parted ways at the end of our trip, JK was heading to Europe to do some sight-seeing in Ireland and Spain, before meeting up with a 63' sailing ship in Valencia and then serving as first mate through Gibraltar, Canary Islands, and across the Atlantic to Antigua. We sent a few messages back and forth, and finally Skyped the day before he was setting sail for Antigua, and he said I should join when he gets there. It will be over Christmas, which is perfect for me because I hate Christmas and opt out whenever possible. I do think of my mother, and this being her first Christmas without my dad, and my tremendous sense of obligation to family. But that is a whole other topic to explore in another post...........
