Recently I've been troubled by the feeling that I am becoming manic. All of the signs are there; irritability, agitation, trouble concentrating. Add to that an inability to sleep, a re-emerging addiction to Internet porn (which leaves me in a state of constant, unsatisfied horniness), and a spending spree. Yeah, I guess I'd say I was pretty goddamn manic.
The icing on the top of this particular insanity cupcake is that Dr. Goldstein, my new therapist, and the marriage counselor are all GOING ON VACATION THIS WEEK!!! UNTIL AFTER LABOR DAY!
Jee-zuss.
Not to mention my husband taking off on yet another trip, a visit to his mother in North Carolina. I am really, really pissed.
He'll return in time for us to go down to the beach house for the final clean-out. Oh, God. Now there's something I'm not looking forward to.
Tonight I took a Xanax along with my other meds. I'm hoping it will calm me down enough to sleep. This sucks.
Sorry to be so whiny, at least I'm bathing regularly again!
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Friday, August 17, 2007
The Moving Finger, Having Demolished, Moves On
(written August 7, 2007)
The thing that really sent me over the edge last night was looking out the front porch, and seeing three strangers standing there, with one guy excitedly pointing out what would be where, where our house is currently standing.
I came out onto the top of the stairs and said,"Can I help you?" He got very flustered, said he was the contractor, and they left.
Plus people who use the beach (we're the only people who've allowed beach access over the years) are storing their crap under our house! Last night I hauled PILES of beach chairs, umbrellas and other shit from under the house and pointedly left it under one of the few remaining trees on the property, right by the stairs to the beach. I mean, we still live here, for Christ's sake! It's one thing for the lifeguards to do it--until this year, we always let them park here, but the new owners of the other lots won't let them. But they can still store their equipment here.
Today was the worst yet. I met the builder of monstro-house, who was a raging jerk, and told me he was going to pull the 'ugly stumps' (what is left of our trees on one side) and then our fence will fall down, to be replaced by a white plastic fence.
He went into a long rant about how you have to build with plastic and vinyl to build next to the ocean. I pointed out our house is entirely made of wood, has survived for decades, and he refused to believe me. Anyway, at the end of it, I went upstairs and was in hysterics--thank God my husband was here. The saddest part was that all or most of the trees are gone. He said people don't want trees. But it's a barrier island! When the next hurricane comes, what do they think is going to protect their precious McMansions!
When Hurricane Andrew hit, the other side of the road was mostly undeveloped, and only one house got totaled. Now...
We leave for home tonight. First I have to walk around the house and decide what we want to take. My stomach hurts.
The thing that really sent me over the edge last night was looking out the front porch, and seeing three strangers standing there, with one guy excitedly pointing out what would be where, where our house is currently standing.
I came out onto the top of the stairs and said,"Can I help you?" He got very flustered, said he was the contractor, and they left.
Plus people who use the beach (we're the only people who've allowed beach access over the years) are storing their crap under our house! Last night I hauled PILES of beach chairs, umbrellas and other shit from under the house and pointedly left it under one of the few remaining trees on the property, right by the stairs to the beach. I mean, we still live here, for Christ's sake! It's one thing for the lifeguards to do it--until this year, we always let them park here, but the new owners of the other lots won't let them. But they can still store their equipment here.
Today was the worst yet. I met the builder of monstro-house, who was a raging jerk, and told me he was going to pull the 'ugly stumps' (what is left of our trees on one side) and then our fence will fall down, to be replaced by a white plastic fence.
He went into a long rant about how you have to build with plastic and vinyl to build next to the ocean. I pointed out our house is entirely made of wood, has survived for decades, and he refused to believe me. Anyway, at the end of it, I went upstairs and was in hysterics--thank God my husband was here. The saddest part was that all or most of the trees are gone. He said people don't want trees. But it's a barrier island! When the next hurricane comes, what do they think is going to protect their precious McMansions!
When Hurricane Andrew hit, the other side of the road was mostly undeveloped, and only one house got totaled. Now...
We leave for home tonight. First I have to walk around the house and decide what we want to take. My stomach hurts.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Altered States - Present, Tense
My husband is away until either late tonight or tomorrow, depending on his driving companion's exhaustion level. I haven't bathed since Friday. Last night I lay in bed, trying to remember if I had showered that day or the day before or the day before that...
I have to have a list of things to do that include bathing, walking the dog, brushing my teeth, eating, taking my medication. Otherwise I hardly do any of these things. Thank God my cats are self-sufficient!
Right now I'm listening to music that throws me into a slightly altered state, which reminds me of my drinking days. I would listen to pounding, loud music and write. When I stopped, my head would be buzzing. The only way to stop the buzzing was a large glass of wine. (Of course, a large glass of wine was my solution to everything.)
Recently I discovered YouTube. There were all of those songs I used to listen to, with the videos--Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Live, etc. I watched the videos and went into a completely altered state--it was like having the best of my madness. Seeing wonderful Kurt Cobain again, one of my spiritual soulmates...the insanity in his eyes is beautiful.
Sometimes I'll be tripped up by a video on television that has too much resonance. For instance, when I was in my teens, I used to listen to the Doors and hallucinate without the benefit of drugs. One song in particular, "The Unknown Soldier", brought on intense hallucinations of marching troops, firing squads. At the end, when all of the bells are crashing, I imagined the soldier's widow collapsing, screaming, in the middle of a huge flank of marching soldiers.
Last year I had on VH1 Classic, and of all things, they played a video of "The Unknown Soldier." I was at my desk My keyboard faces the television. I stood up, frozen where I stood. As I watched, all of my hallucinations came to life--the firing squad, the blood on the flowers, mixed with the Doors in live performance. I shook all over, and started to cry, but I could not move to change the channel. After it was over, I ran into the bedroom, screaming hysterically, and called Dr. Gottlieb.
So you can guess that's not on my Itunes playlist. But I have been downloading a number of songs that "take me back." That's probably not healthy. So is not bathing. I'm not sure what part of me I am getting in touch with by doing this (not the not bathing, the music). It's something deep and very disturbed. I wish I understood myself.
I have to have a list of things to do that include bathing, walking the dog, brushing my teeth, eating, taking my medication. Otherwise I hardly do any of these things. Thank God my cats are self-sufficient!
Right now I'm listening to music that throws me into a slightly altered state, which reminds me of my drinking days. I would listen to pounding, loud music and write. When I stopped, my head would be buzzing. The only way to stop the buzzing was a large glass of wine. (Of course, a large glass of wine was my solution to everything.)
Recently I discovered YouTube. There were all of those songs I used to listen to, with the videos--Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Live, etc. I watched the videos and went into a completely altered state--it was like having the best of my madness. Seeing wonderful Kurt Cobain again, one of my spiritual soulmates...the insanity in his eyes is beautiful.
Sometimes I'll be tripped up by a video on television that has too much resonance. For instance, when I was in my teens, I used to listen to the Doors and hallucinate without the benefit of drugs. One song in particular, "The Unknown Soldier", brought on intense hallucinations of marching troops, firing squads. At the end, when all of the bells are crashing, I imagined the soldier's widow collapsing, screaming, in the middle of a huge flank of marching soldiers.
Last year I had on VH1 Classic, and of all things, they played a video of "The Unknown Soldier." I was at my desk My keyboard faces the television. I stood up, frozen where I stood. As I watched, all of my hallucinations came to life--the firing squad, the blood on the flowers, mixed with the Doors in live performance. I shook all over, and started to cry, but I could not move to change the channel. After it was over, I ran into the bedroom, screaming hysterically, and called Dr. Gottlieb.
So you can guess that's not on my Itunes playlist. But I have been downloading a number of songs that "take me back." That's probably not healthy. So is not bathing. I'm not sure what part of me I am getting in touch with by doing this (not the not bathing, the music). It's something deep and very disturbed. I wish I understood myself.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Down To The Sea With Shits...
(This was written August 5)
My oldest sister left for home this afternoon, at almost the exact time my husband arrived, so they only saw each other for half an hour.
My other sister pitched a tent in the garden (as she always does). During the night there was a FEROCIOUS thunderstorm, such crashing thunder that the house was shaking! I ran out of the bedroom, and there was my mother. We both said 'Cordelia!' but didn't know what to do. I looked in the spare bedroom but she wasn't there. I looked out the window at her tent, and it seemed secured.
This morning she told us she was lying there quaking with fear, terrified of being struck by lightning. Especially because now all of the trees are gone and there isn't anything HIGH anymore to get hit!
Earlier today I grabbed a hammer and fixed the screen door, and fixed a couple of other things. Despite having another thunderstorm, I got in a swim in the morning and a swim in the late afternoon (after the lifeguard had left).
I have this lump of sadness in my stomach. It's surreal to stand with Mom and Cordelia and talk about which figures we want from the top of the kitchen cabinets. My mother is a potter and painter, and there are literally thousands of pieces of pottery and dozens of paintings everywhere.
Cordelia started throwing things in a box. When I reminded her that Lucretia had specifically asked her not to do that, she blew up, saying she had nothing, that our brother has two houses, I have so much space, etc. "That's not what it's about!" I said. "It's about consideration for other people's feelings!"
"I don't care about other people's feelings!"
"Then you are being fucking selfish!" I was standing at the base of the stairs leading to the porch, glaring up at her.
"So I'm selfish! Deal with it! It's how I am!" She slammed inside.
We made up later, but then she remarked that she hoped my niece (who is retarded and provided for in my mother's will) chokes to death before our mother dies so we can split the money.
Tonight I've been staying away from the rest of the family . They're all in the TV room as I type this, because I just want to cry. The computer is in what used to be my father's office, and it's surrounded by all of this rusted, corroded crap. Last year I cleaned out his office and workshop, but hanging on the doorway to my right is a Harpo horn I gave him, and behind me is a bulletin board with pictures of all of us as kids and a postcard from one of my shows. To my left is a large photo collage of our garden before Hurricane Andrew.
Oh, no, it's disappeared. Jesus. It was there last night. I hate this.
My oldest sister left for home this afternoon, at almost the exact time my husband arrived, so they only saw each other for half an hour.
My other sister pitched a tent in the garden (as she always does). During the night there was a FEROCIOUS thunderstorm, such crashing thunder that the house was shaking! I ran out of the bedroom, and there was my mother. We both said 'Cordelia!' but didn't know what to do. I looked in the spare bedroom but she wasn't there. I looked out the window at her tent, and it seemed secured.
This morning she told us she was lying there quaking with fear, terrified of being struck by lightning. Especially because now all of the trees are gone and there isn't anything HIGH anymore to get hit!
Earlier today I grabbed a hammer and fixed the screen door, and fixed a couple of other things. Despite having another thunderstorm, I got in a swim in the morning and a swim in the late afternoon (after the lifeguard had left).
I have this lump of sadness in my stomach. It's surreal to stand with Mom and Cordelia and talk about which figures we want from the top of the kitchen cabinets. My mother is a potter and painter, and there are literally thousands of pieces of pottery and dozens of paintings everywhere.
Cordelia started throwing things in a box. When I reminded her that Lucretia had specifically asked her not to do that, she blew up, saying she had nothing, that our brother has two houses, I have so much space, etc. "That's not what it's about!" I said. "It's about consideration for other people's feelings!"
"I don't care about other people's feelings!"
"Then you are being fucking selfish!" I was standing at the base of the stairs leading to the porch, glaring up at her.
"So I'm selfish! Deal with it! It's how I am!" She slammed inside.
We made up later, but then she remarked that she hoped my niece (who is retarded and provided for in my mother's will) chokes to death before our mother dies so we can split the money.
Tonight I've been staying away from the rest of the family . They're all in the TV room as I type this, because I just want to cry. The computer is in what used to be my father's office, and it's surrounded by all of this rusted, corroded crap. Last year I cleaned out his office and workshop, but hanging on the doorway to my right is a Harpo horn I gave him, and behind me is a bulletin board with pictures of all of us as kids and a postcard from one of my shows. To my left is a large photo collage of our garden before Hurricane Andrew.
Oh, no, it's disappeared. Jesus. It was there last night. I hate this.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
At The Beach House - Present, Tense
It's been so long since I wrote in here, and so much has happened.
Right now I am down at my family's beach house at the Jersey shore. We got here yesterday morning, and what a shock!!! My brother and mother have been here, but not me or my two sisters.
My dad had planted pines all the way around the property, and they have ALL been cut down, including the ones on the property that is still ours until September, where the house is. Also, everything else has been graded and removed,and a HUGE monstro-house with an elevator, no less, is being built in the middle lot. (The roadside lot just sold a few weeks ago.) Yesterday I walked my dog around the perimeter of the property, and went to where the edge of our tennis court used to abut the woods. There are new owners on either side of us, so everything has been torn down there as well (not the houses, but the woods). I'd always wondered what was on the other side of the far door of the tennis court, but couldn't open it due to the woods and poison ivy. Back then, in front was a driveway and a huge pile of lumber (my dad's).
Now, there was nothing, except some rotted ancient tennis balls. The workmen on monstro house have stolen a lot of stuff from the bottom floor of the house (stuff on the outside).
As we unloaded the car, I turned to my sister Cordelia and said, "I feel like God has taken a shit on my head." And she nodded. Then, carrying the luggage, I slipped and fell on what used to be the driveway and skinned my knee. It seemed appropriate.
Everywhere you look out the window, everything is different.
Except when you look straight out at the ocean. Thank God, that is the same. I got hysterical and called my psychiatrist, who said I had to "feel the feelings" of loss and grief. My oldest sister goes back to CA today until the end of the month, when we'll clean out the house. I have to make a list of what i want, as do we all. Most of the stuff here is too rotted, and there's no space for it anywhere in my apartment.
Thank God for the ocean. After calling my psychiatrist, I went with my oldest sister, Lucretia, for an hour-long swim in the ocean, until the lifeguard had to leave,and then I went back up to the house (and my dog--my husband is coming today).
As always when I'm down here, I'm channeling my dad, walking around with a hammer and fixing things. It really does feel like he's tell me what to do. Also, the part of the garden where we sprinkled his ashes last year, which is completely overgrown, has these beautiful flowers on it. I'm going to get a disposable camera and do a visual record (I do it every summer).
Later this month we'll hire people to haul most of everything away, so this weekend I need to make a list of what I want. It's not much, although there is a BEAUTIFUL wrought-iron dictionary stand that I could really use. Dad left me his huge OED, and I want to take his Bible from the office.
Gotta go put on my swimsuit...I think I am going to throw up.
Right now I am down at my family's beach house at the Jersey shore. We got here yesterday morning, and what a shock!!! My brother and mother have been here, but not me or my two sisters.
My dad had planted pines all the way around the property, and they have ALL been cut down, including the ones on the property that is still ours until September, where the house is. Also, everything else has been graded and removed,and a HUGE monstro-house with an elevator, no less, is being built in the middle lot. (The roadside lot just sold a few weeks ago.) Yesterday I walked my dog around the perimeter of the property, and went to where the edge of our tennis court used to abut the woods. There are new owners on either side of us, so everything has been torn down there as well (not the houses, but the woods). I'd always wondered what was on the other side of the far door of the tennis court, but couldn't open it due to the woods and poison ivy. Back then, in front was a driveway and a huge pile of lumber (my dad's).
Now, there was nothing, except some rotted ancient tennis balls. The workmen on monstro house have stolen a lot of stuff from the bottom floor of the house (stuff on the outside).
As we unloaded the car, I turned to my sister Cordelia and said, "I feel like God has taken a shit on my head." And she nodded. Then, carrying the luggage, I slipped and fell on what used to be the driveway and skinned my knee. It seemed appropriate.
Everywhere you look out the window, everything is different.
Except when you look straight out at the ocean. Thank God, that is the same. I got hysterical and called my psychiatrist, who said I had to "feel the feelings" of loss and grief. My oldest sister goes back to CA today until the end of the month, when we'll clean out the house. I have to make a list of what i want, as do we all. Most of the stuff here is too rotted, and there's no space for it anywhere in my apartment.
Thank God for the ocean. After calling my psychiatrist, I went with my oldest sister, Lucretia, for an hour-long swim in the ocean, until the lifeguard had to leave,and then I went back up to the house (and my dog--my husband is coming today).
As always when I'm down here, I'm channeling my dad, walking around with a hammer and fixing things. It really does feel like he's tell me what to do. Also, the part of the garden where we sprinkled his ashes last year, which is completely overgrown, has these beautiful flowers on it. I'm going to get a disposable camera and do a visual record (I do it every summer).
Later this month we'll hire people to haul most of everything away, so this weekend I need to make a list of what I want. It's not much, although there is a BEAUTIFUL wrought-iron dictionary stand that I could really use. Dad left me his huge OED, and I want to take his Bible from the office.
Gotta go put on my swimsuit...I think I am going to throw up.
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