Remember, Remember The Month of September

“When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the time will turn.” – Harriet Beecher Stowe.

There are times in life when it’s just plain hard to look up, despite how much you desperately want to. Sometimes it’s just not easy to see the positive or the good. I think that would about sum up the events of this last month. I feel as though I’m hanging on by a thread and so help me if one more thing goes wrong I may crack. Seriously. This month has given me a royal beating. 

Okay, September. I surrender. I raise my white flag to you.

My car broke again. My bike broke on me like three times in the span of three weeks. It’s still broken because I had so many other extra expenses pertaining to the hound, my own medical bills, etc. I’m also f*cking turning 30 in like 3 days and admittedly having a bit of a meltdown about it. I’m asking myself why I don’t have my act together. What’s wrong with me? Why did I never accomplish what I thought I would at this juncture in life?

Then the wonderful guy I was dating realized he just wasn’t emotionally ready for anything beyond friendship. His timing is horrid, but that’s just life, isn’t it? I’m very sad about it – because I thought finally someone good had come into my life and it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a good and kind person by my side. I understand where he’s coming from but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, I think it hurts more because he’s so wonderful. Heck, I’ve been there before as well. I initiated something and realized emotionally I just wasn’t in it and I probably hurt him. I think he was a much bigger person than I was when it happened to me. I broke my moral compass regarding speaking out of anger and said a lot of terrible things. He didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. I can admit when I’m wrong and have done as much. He doesn’t think any less of me and I’m certain that’s more than I deserve. I think the next time something like this happens I need to flee into the wilderness and cut off any form of communication from the world so I don’t lash out.  I think dating needs to be tabled for a while. I have too many other stressors in life and I think I need to let my wounds heal from this experience.

He was chivalrous, kind, intelligent and witty. His smile embodied that warmth he gave to others. 

Again I have to remind myself what got me here where I am now: just plain not thinking things through. I thought I could handle a place with no kitchen. It’s not just about that anymore, but my own personal safety. There is no sense of boundaries, really. Just over the weekend I had my landlord’s daughter simply walk into my apartment with four of her friends. I am not amused. My landlord was practically frothing at the mouth because I was talking to the neighbors, who have been a huge help to me and given me endless moral support. I don’t even want to be there right now, but I have to go back to pack. I admit I’m a little bit afraid because the landlord strikes me as a ticking bomb.

I want to be as far removed from this dysfunction as possible.

My happy ending this month is that I found a place that’s better and closer to work.  It has a kitchen! OMG! I’m moving on up in the world. The neighborhood doesn’t scare me. I’d be perfectly fine walking around with the hound when the sun is not out. In this scenario, however, the hound will have to take one for the team until I can sort out a dog door – which means he’ll be outside while I’m at work. The landlord happens to work for the same organization that I work for. I think that was a big help to me in being chosen out of all of the other applicants . . . because renting in Portland is tough and I magically beat out 85 other applicants – with a hound dog.

The dynamic duo triumphs in the end. 

For now I’m reminding myself to just focus on one thing at a time and not try to look so far ahead into the future. Sure, I need to sort out a dog door and find a dog house in the interim. I need to get pots and pans because I have none, I need a kitchen table. I need a lot of things. Whatever. For now I’ll just be focusing on getting the hell out of there. One thing at a time, Lass. One thing at a time.

I’ve been talking to a guy I know from tango. He’s going through a breakup, too – but he’s been with this gal for 7 years. Our solution to our woes? Smashing things. We have tentative plans to wail on pumpkins and make a huge mess. Because we can and something about completely laying waste to things is therapeutically gratifying. We’re both fairly stressed out and experiencing sleepless nights. I confessed to him last night that I was disappointed upon learning that he had a girlfriend when I first met him – but I left it at that. Neither one of us are in that kind of mind frame right now. We’re slightly embittered about the dating process, why people treat one another like garbage and that feeling that life has somehow turned against you. While working through my stress and rage I’ll have a companion to talk with regarding the things in life I just don’t understand. I guess it’s comforting that someone else is experiencing the same emotions, so he knows exactly where I’m coming from.

I am very much looking forward to this. 

While outletting my rage on unsuspecting perishables, I’ll be making an extra effort to find the good things in life, even though it’s difficult to see them right now and smile even though I feel like I’m breaking. I’ll make more of an effort to surround myself with the people that make me happy and make an honest attempt to not freak out over the fact that I’m turning 30. I make no guarantees that I won’t cry over my ice cream cake or something. 

Just keep looking up. It can't rain forever. 

Paying the Piper

I’ve been tired lately . . . really tired. I feel like I have 8 balls up in the air and have to learn to juggle all of them. Simultaneously. Right now. I recently gave myself a reality check and pep talk just to be reminded of these things: not everything falls into place overnight, there really are no ‘perfect’ conditions for anything and we all have to pay our dues to get what we want in life.

Sometimes frustrations arise when I see what I perceive as biased treatment between my brother and me. Every time I catch myself in that pattern of thinking I remind myself that the world doesn’t owe me anything. Perseverance has always been my trade mark. I’m tough. I’m resilient. Resorting to envy and resentment is pointless. It benefits no one and is harmful to me most of all.

Since I’ve started dating I’m feeling pressure from some for not finding ‘the one’ yet and from others to take my time. It’s the former that manages to get into my head. Damn. It. I still have my reservations about the whole other-person-completing-me idea. I know I believed in it once and I’d like to think my current approach is a more practical one. When I meet someone the question at the forefront of my mind is how dedicated he will be in the long run. Is he willing to try to work it out when things aren’t going smoothly or will he be quick to draw just for the sake of outshooting me? Personally, I’m not one to speak when I’m hurt or angry. Once something has been said, that’s it . . . . and it feels like that has the potential to do more much harm than a physical act of harming someone  - like theft or something along those lines. It’s almost always the words someone has spoken to me and my emotional reaction to those words that I remember. I try to take care when I speak to others.

I went off on a tangent there for a minute. That’s an example of how my mind is running in circles lately. I go from worrying about my current living situation, to my lack of a social life because of my living situation, to Merlin and telling myself that he’s worth it all (because he so very much is), to dating, to telling my inner mind to shut the hell up and be quiet for once.

On the topic of dating: I feel like I haven’t the slightest fucking clue. On the rare occasion that I meet someone with whom I feel a connection or someone that merits a few outings because I think they might be worth my while, I’m often consumed with thoughts along the lines of: Am I going to get hurt? Will I somehow hurt him? What the hell am I doing here?! Then I catch myself in borderline freak out mode, tell myself I’m awesome about 50 times the same way one would recite a Hail Mary as a form of penance, and take a mental time out to remind myself that this isn’t the end of the line for me. Not even close. In fact, there is no end of the line. That’s just an illusion.

I was telling a friend about someone I met recently. Her response was this: you don’t sound very enthused. Truth be told, I was pleasantly surprised by him. I almost stood him up. I’m glad I didn’t because so far he’s been very different from anyone else I’ve met.  I was skeptical because of his age. I have a long history of dating older men and it never bodes well for me. Then I met him. He’s kind, attractive, he's witty, he's chivalrous, and we have the chemistry to carry on meaningful conversations. While I’ve been extremely self-conscious about my appearance lately, I always feel lovely when I’m with him. On some level I’d wager I’m thrilled. My problem is that I keep telling myself it’s not going to work. For the love of all that is holy, I really need to quit thinking along those lines. I can’t keep focusing on what’s not working, what’s not ideal, and what’s not where I want it to be. Instead, I should be looking forward to something else entirely and remind myself that we pay our dues in nearly every aspect of life. My friends have their fair share of dating gone wrong stories. They found the right fit eventually.

This about sums up who I've met so far with the exception of the guy I almost stood up. 

Everyone has to pay their dues when it comes to a career. While I’m not where I had hoped to be in terms of finances, I know that will come later and emotionally my work is pretty damn rewarding. I helped a patient from another clinic yesterday. She had so many things going on in her life that were overwhelming her physically and mentally and all she needed right at that moment was for someone to give her a sincere and listening ear and get her the help she needed instead of passing her off to the next person. I was able to provide that. These one-on-one interactions make a world of difference to someone else and are precisely why I love my job. I remind myself of this when I think that something as silly as money is more important to my overall well-being. I manage to get by with what I have.

Connecting with complete strangers in their moment of emotional need. THIS is why I love my job. 

When I’m stressed out I remind myself of the things that really matter. I am lucky enough to have a position that is rewarding more often than not. My doctor appreciates me and his gratitude means the world to me. I’ve been surrounded by academia long enough to know the vast majority who make a career out of it have over-inflated egos.

Most importantly, Merlin is a happy dog. He has access to a small yard. I purchased a small AC to run on days when it’s hot and muggy so he’ll be comfortable while I’m away and he is adored by everyone who meets him. I’ve been complimented a lot lately regarding his sweet temperament. That gives me the warm fuzzies because that was entirely my doing and even though finances are tight most of the time I can still afford his grain free good, treats, an occasional toy and lots of love.

The lack of a kitchen has created a whole other set of issues: the time spent actually making food, cleaning my apartment and still trying to find a more efficient way to survive in there have severely cut into my social life. That’s upsetting to me from time to time. I do miss dancing and I am annoyed by the fact that my apartment was probably built on top of an ant graveyard and that’s why those stupid little creatures never go away. I've been browsing. I've learned fairly quickly that Portland is a renter's nightmare. I have stories. I think I'll save those for another entry because they deserve to be showcased! 

He's worth every single aspect of being a hound mom. 

When I’m frustrated I remind myself why I did it at all in the first place: the hound. He’s worth every frustration and inconvenience. I keep that thought in mind every time I look for a new apartment or (as I’m considering lately) roommate scenario. Merlin’s happiness comes first, so I’m staying put for a while.