Sunday, 11 October 2009

Must. Love. Harder.

The vultures circled overhead for days before they swooped. They pecked out my eyes, gouged on my brains, tore my heart from it's hiding place with their bare beaks. Do vultures even have beaks? I don't know, I was too busy hiding my head in my arms to look. A camping trip was planned but I told Dave to take the boys - all of them, and go. Save yourselves, I thought as I watched them drive off. Terrible, this feeling.

Every now and then, I cannot function. It used to happen once a year, these days it's happening all too frequently and this weekend was the worst and the lowest in a while. The world is grey, I cannot bear to be anywhere, especially in my own skin. I can only write about it now because it's leaving. I don't know if it's indicative of where I'm at in the world, where I have been, or what I'm still struggling to become. The only way I know how to deal with it is to stop and be still ... let the demons stomp all over me. Because they always get bored and leave.

It's so stupid, and I don't talk about it that much, because ... LOONY. I always get better and get respectable and re-join society. On the plus side, my brother lent me the first two series of Rescue Me. I have sat in bed all weekend and watched Denis Leary battle his own demons, fucking awesome. Gritty, real, and raw. I love watching shows with dysfunctional characters and messy plotlines. Makes me feel ok.

I spoke to Dave today on the phone. He said everybody else struggles the same, they just don't like to show it.

I miss the boys so much. Leaving in the morning to drive five hours north to join them camping. Dave text me a photo of Rocco sitting up in his highchair outside the tent and it would have torn my heart out, if the vultures hadn't got to it first. It feels ridiculous, as there's nothing tangibly wrong. I won't be taking my laptop as it done broke (SOB) ... I'm going to try and set some blog posts on a timer, to publish every few days.

A therapist once told me, years ago ... to go home, take off my shoes, and walk around the backyard. To literally get grounded. I need to watch Max on the slippery dip and get dirty. Get sand in my bum crack and toast marshmallows and swing Rocco and laugh with Tim and tell Dave to make his own cup of damn tea. (And then kiss him).

For fucks sake.

An unexamined life is not worth living ... but an examined life is still pretty fucking hard.

- Photo taken by me at a U2 concert 11/11/06


  1. I am sorry about the vultures. They are buggers, but as you say, they do get bored and leave. At least we learn that. Thank you for writing about this. I agree with Dave, I think everyone goes through varying degrees of this. Reading about how you deal with it is giving me ideas on dealing with my vultures. I think I might have been entertaining them a little too much, leaving out food and responding to their cries. And it's true, I usually feel better after 3 hours on the couch with a wacked out TV series or a detective story, more able to actually say hello when H comes home. Your camping trip sounds like a great plan. I'm jealous, and impressed by your ability to drive 5 hours north in one of these moods.

  2. I am sorry the vultures have come to visit but so glad they are on their way out. I think I need to deal with my vultures also.

    Enjoy every bit of sand in your bum crack ;)

  3. The thing about when the vultures come...when they are here, it is SO damn hard to imagine them gone. They take over your whole being and feel like they have won, then one by one they start to fly away. Once they are gone (for the umpteenth time)you can enjoy life until the next batch of them arrive.

    The trick is KNOWING that they WILL leave each time, and getting through their visit with as little damage as possible.

  4. I'm sorry. Sorry about the vultures and all the other shit. If I could send you a gun to kill them all I would. Hugs to you and I hope you enjoy camping with your boys.

  5. Oh, and harder won't make it easier. As my yoga teacher says, "Don't try hard. Try easy."

  6. Dear Eden's Demons~

    You can't have her. She belongs to herself and to God and to us. And we will fight for her because we love her and because we are determined to keep loving her no matter what.

    Yours fighting,


  7. Those fucking vultures are everywhere. I'm sorry, love. I'm here too. You need me, I'm here. Hell, you don't need me, I'm still here.

  8. Everyone does struggle, some talk about it and others don't. I am glad you do.
    I don't always comment, but I read every psot. I think you are pretty awesome.
    Have a great trip.

  9. I understand. It happens to me too.

  10. Go, run to you family, don't worry about blogging... the vultures will not follow you. HUGS

  11. Sometimes the things we share freak me the fuck out.

    But I thank God for it. If I believed in God -- which the jury's out on over here ;)

    I remember specifically a teacher I had once who told me I just needed to feel my feet on the ground, my seat in the chair....

    Grounded is good -- nature is good too --as is the raucous family life that is a bunch of boys in the woods...


    I"m thinking of you.


  12. Feeling pretty much the same way. Love you always.

  13. The good news is that you are aware of those disgusting vultures and what they do.

    As long as you can 'see' them, they can't hurt you. They prefer to be invisible and peck away to their heart's content while you are totally unaware.

    But you are stronger than they are, and smarter, and you WILL prevail!

  14. I have to sit on the ground to help ground myself, preferably dirt. I sit on the floor everywhere all the time, it is such a habit and I KNOW it is a grounding thing. I am a gemini air sign and get stuck up there and long for the ground.

    Sending love to ya my friend.

  15. Dave is right, it is not just you. Maybe it is just you and me?? My day was Sunday. I awoke and wanted nothing more than to never get out of bed.

    I remember thinking Monday how can I justify being in such a state? Everything in my life is going well, why do I want to run away? But then it passed. By last night and this morning I was back to feeling fairly normal.

    Hope you enjoy your camping trip!! :-)


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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