"I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth...

....at any tiyeeiyyeeeiiimmmeee!!!! Oooooh Feel Free!" - Alanis Morrisette

Yesterday, come and gone, but still lingers in the air like the smoke from a cigarette. I had an incredibly challenging day yesterday, and sorta felt defeated and released at the same time. My ambitions to try and save this town continue to get stepped on, but I'm like a Bozo Clown; I bounce back harder with each punch to the face.

Community Garden:

To get a community garden together would require at LEAST Four dedicated people to help ORGANIZE it. This is beyond the grunt work of plowing the land, creating planter boxes and whatnot. THis is sitting down, agreeing to terms amongst the organizers and then putting it to action. The likelihood of this happening? Actually more likely than you'd think. It's just a matter of getting people together. But part of me is feeling like "oh shit, you're doing it again." Piling my stuff up TOO high again. Is the group going to rely on ME strictly because I'm the one that got us together? Oye. What to do?!?!?!?

Then there's school. I'm actually feeling excited about going back. I'm getting much better about going to Santa Rosa lately and am starting to feel like my usual, strong and independent self again. It helps tremendously that Jesse is going back to school, so I definitely feel secure. A little nervous about my new classes, but I've kept two old teachers who are familiar with me and my whole situation. I'm looking forward to getting back in the darkroom and making more art! I'm also looking forward to dancing with my girl Tia in HipHop2. I'm looking forward to having something to read, not that I don't read. Actually just started "The Mermaid Chair" and am liking it.

Jesse joined the wrestling team and it already having a blast! I'm so happy that he'd finally zoned in on something that brings him a sense of self-worth and belonging. I love that it fits really well into our schedules, so there' really no sacrificing on anybody's part. And the best part is when we're at school, I have a whole 2 hours to kill before he's out and we can go home. I'm actually pretty excited about that, too, 'cause what better way to knock out homework than to be stuck at school for two hours? I'm also happy about it because it gives me time to go job on the track, which I've been missing. I can even take a shower on campus! Wow, I'm more excited about it than I realized.

SO today there's no definite plans, except for a Historical Society meeting (which I LOVE!). I get to present a brochure I made and get some input. I'm feeling like things are rolling, I just need to learn how to balance on the ball while juggling. Nonetheless, accomplishment is inevitable.

Are these tears of morning?...

...or mourning?

Awakening this morning to a phone call bidding my presence at Funky Monkey in Santa Rosa, where children run like wild animals and parents (already in a heightened state of anxiety) maintain their sanity. The automatic response continues to be from the voice of my agoraphobia telling me I won't be able to maintain my sanity; I will lose it. "What if?" this and "what if?" that. Using my workbook, I have decided to counteract these statements; these useless, terribly untrue statements.

When a situation begins to present itself, I immediately think of how my anxiety can fit into the picture. However, what I notice is I don't give chance to the positive aspect of the opportunity and rather look at it as another instance where I'll be anxious and I will become exhausted from keeping myself in check. And because it exhausts me so, I become unwilling to try and instead find ways to make the situation not happen, creating avoidance. At what point is it avoidance?

Funky Monkey isn't going to happen today because my friend no longer wishes to go. I feel relieved, and yet guilty for feeling relieved because now I'm not going to be putting myself in an uncomfortable situation. Am I avoiding it? Or am I scrutinizing everything? I think the latter.

I read and have been told once a while ago that knowing TOO much about the issues in your head can be MORE detrimental than good, because then you can no longer behave normally; you'll always be second-guessing every decision or action you make. So I try to look back on how I've behaved before this breakdown: if I didn't want to go to Santa Rosa, I didn't go: end of story. If plans with a friend didn't work out, I sometimes felt relief: it's perfectly normal. I also felt anxious about going places but still went and got through it and never scrutinized so much over the little details of everything. It's so unnecessary.

So I'm going to figure out SOMETHING for today, whether that's staying and cleaning the house or going out for a walk with a monster or two or visiting a friend. I don't HAVE to have a plan for the day to feel like it's not time or practice being wasted. There's SO much to look forward to, so I'll concentrate on that instead.

I sure would hate to go to hell...

"...for thinkin' that I was right" - Spencer Bell.

Tonight seemed to be a rather "GODLY" evening. Feeling rather literate I picked up my "Mysteries of the World" book and got some good ancient Christian/Druid artifact and legend knowledge under my belt and was inspired enough to pick up the Annoted Bible Jesse got for his History of God class. Because I felt inspired enough to pick up the Bible for umpteenth time to attempt to read what the hype was all about I genuinely thought I would come across something wise or at least equally inspiring. Oh my, we are a creature asking for trouble, laid out in the fucking Bible! If I had not known what the Bible was and instead picked it up as though I wanted to read a piece of fiction, I probably would have been quite satisfied with the bizarre and unrealistically ridiculous depictions of human and worldly development. So, needless to say, I made it to the 3 verse of Genesis before deciding my brain cells were far too valuable for me to waste on this overbearing, man-glorifying testimony of the lowdown in back in the day. Jesus, save me from your father's book! And I'm sure in time I will be able to sit down and stomach the rest of the 3000 verses, however for tonight, I felt it was much better use to converse with the niece-creature about drugs and God and listen to some of my favorite underground music instead.

Today was probably longer than it was supposed to be, I felt. I had set out to do a few chores in town and it ended taking me twice to time to do half what I was supposed to, leaving me feeling like I'm accomplished SHIT! But I have; my pages are proofread and done and now waiting to be mailed tomorrow, once I finish a few minor details. But that's just it! The details! They're fucking crazy!

So I'm kinda hoping some certain individuals never see that blog post I wrote few nights ago, basically venting about the garbage bullshit politics of Guerneville. However I'm completely unwilling to give up my freedom to speak my mind (and honestly, it's not like it's something people don't NEED to hear, it's just not politically correct for ME to say it), so I'm taking that risk of them seeing it. Oh well.

I am often thinking that this strange thing, the Higher Power, is a key to helping me overcome my anxiety. So much of my anxiety got triggered when I started realizing how little control I have over most EVERYTHING in my life. Well then, what IS in control of all that? There's got to be SOME force behind the wheel keeping things on the straight and narrow. Oh, that's where the "GOD" thing comes in. But I have such a problem with that word; it has such a stigma in my life's history and I'm very uncomfortable using that word to describe something I feel doesn't deserve the stigma. Being of (supposed) Cherokee descent, I looked up the Cherokee word for "God" and found "U-nay Klah nah hey" (Creator of All Things). So "U-nay" is my little name for my Higher Power, for the moment. I identify much closer to the Native perspective on life, creation and the Universe than I do the Christian one.

So maybe if there is a hell, I'm probably gonna be there...only if I believe it to be true.

So tonight I'll leave you with some musicians I listened to tonight....I feel they're share-worthy.

Spencer Bell

MountainDawg

Cookie Bumstead & The Lonesome Space Cadets (my nephew's band)

Talk is Cheap...

...and that's exactly what I can afford.

In fact, talk can be pretty pricey. Just look at your cable and Internet bills: talk ain't cheap and it isn't getting any cheaper.

This picture is a painting I painted last Spring. It was inspired by the Hindu Goddess Kali. I am most proud of her because I felt she reflected the Kali inside me; the very energy waiting to burst out from within.

Deeper thought into the subjects of my mind as of late have revealed to me that it is not a love I possess towards Guerneville, but rather a love affair. Love is unconditional, unwaivering and unbroken. A love affair is raw, passionate, volatile and easily collapsable. And just like in any other relationship, you'll find yourself drifting together and apart throughout your time together. My conclusion of the moment is even if we were to move away, the deep scar of the this intrigued love affair will surely tear parts of my heart this way and that, making it near impossible to feel such a love again.

A sort of rekindling occurred today, making me realize that so long as a select group of individuals never A. Move and B. Die, Guerneville can be tolerable. I'm three days away from sending off the proof pages for the my first published book; a Historical photo book that I and my coauthor spent 6 months working on. It has been months since we've sat at his kitchen table, throwing jokes and insults at one another, all the while learning more history about the Town who's love affair we both share. If there is something I can't get enough of, it's long, stringing conversations about everything under the Sun with somebody who is capable of keeping up with me. So how can I leave?

For the first time in MONTHS, while sitting at that round, wooden table, covered with a lemon table cloth, I had ZERO anxiety. I mean Z-E-R-O. Not once did I even rouse myself like I so often do (just to "test" the waters and see just how strongly I can counteract it). I was focused on the book, focused on photos and on conversation. Nothing from the outside world intruded my headspace; the many thousands of worries I cope with every day were stopped dead in their tracks the moment they hit the door. If I were to pinpoint a drug, it would be communication. THAT is truly MY drug, and when I go without, I am truly ruthless at getting it.

I'm enjoying where my life is going right now. I no longer feel as though we're stuck in limbo, dangling in a net a thousand feet above the ground. Although nothing has come to a true fruition, I feel it coming; the urge to relax and trust in the Universe draped over me today and I was showered with gifts. My family, my friends, myself and a sense of peace.

I've also noticed a change in Jesse: he's happy, he's supportive, he's fun to be around. He's supported me so much through this anxiety crap, and even today, knowing full well I was anxious about him leaving to Santa Rosa, did without my request a courtesy that I needed him to do. I need to remember to give him more credit for this, to help encourage this positive behavior.

To Missoula or No?

A lightbulb went off in me yesterday as I was wandering through some blogs I follow. Could Missoula, Montana be THE place to raise our family? The very idea of moving out of California many states away in a whole new world (and with family, no less) is quite frightening (and yet, oh-so exciting, too!). However, my husband doesn't share in that excitement and would rather meet each positive remark about the place with various reasons why it's a bad idea. And yet, remarkably, I don't feel discouraged in the LEAST bit. It's not like we were going to move there tomorrow. I'm talking at LEAST 1 1/2 years.

I've often pondered the effectiveness of staying in an armpit like Guerneville, Ca. I love this town, don't get me wrong (and I can see how misleading the "armpit" comment can be) but how much time must pass before we realize that the many families that supported the town are now GONE? Guerneville does NOT have any sort of self-sustaining qualities, with the exception of a few wealthy families who've basically made it homebase. The quality of life isn't enhance with amenities for families: this is my ONLY argument against the influx of the gay population in the 1980s. Aside from the lack of "family-friendliness," I've no other problems. And to tell you the truth, the "family" situation was no better before them, either. The hopping-time was in the 1920s, a time when America's values were structure SO much differently than they are today. The dollar had FAR less weight in decisions and service was the at the forefront of the operations of the day. Today you see money all over the place: "Sale; Business for Sale; Locals Specials; Extended Hours!"...to me, this all rings in a bunch of bullshit. The businesses are starving for money and yet are constantly shooting themselves in the foot by arrogantly selling shit that NOBODY needs, stubbornly keeping their prices high and exhibiting an unwillingness to be a community by criticizing those who DO get off their asses for their community. The number-crunching mentality has taken its toll on the families of the community....and I am exhausted. The sad part? There ARE business owners who pride themselves in being a part of a community, and they are! But the clock wont work unless ALL the clogs are moving together...so we keep skipping the beat.

I gave up a couple years ago when I had to close the Guerneville Farmer's Market. I took it SO personally: it was my failure, for many reasons and most of the fault lied within me. I relied on my community for its success and it flopped. Another failure for me was the Friends of the Russian River Skatepark. I truly expected to at LEAST have established a seasonal, temporary skatepark for the skaters of this town....the culprit? A community that was (and still is) unwilling to invest time, energy and money into its youth. So why-the-fuck bother?

The thought of relocating crossed my mind when two dear friends of mine were complimenting me of their gifts for Christmas. His words, "Get out of Dodge!" still resonate in my head. "Why would I do that? This is my home! This is where I want to be!" Well, shit. Is it?

So do I join the ranks of families that have left the area for better, more wholesome opportunities for my children? Or do I endure through the garbage and subject my family to a mediocre lifestyle which we're forced to settle for? Fortunately, this decision doesn't have to be made today, or even tomorrow. It's still going to depress the FUCK out of me.

Guerneville is my home. It's a mangey, little outback, corner-of-the-Universe, kind of town that's slowly (but surely) becoming engulfed by the cancerous "wine industry." Which, let me just say, is FUCKING RETARDED because that would mean MORE deforestation of what is left of the world's original redwood forest. All for what? Money? and Nasty-tasting wine? Fuck off! This shit tastes like fishshit water with a hint of grape juice. I just don't get it!

ON another note:

How's a little indecision to stir up the anxiety pot? Today, I took the girl and ratdog to Santa Rosa. Did you catch that? I went to Santa Rosa!!! Woot! That's awesome for me! We went into K-Mart to exchange some clothes for her that were too small and walked out with new slippers and valentines stuffies. A day well spent. :-)

Well, not much today on anxiety, but the Missoula thing is still very important for me to mull over on some sleep. If by Friday I'm still feeling this way, I'll look deeper into the politics of the town, maybe even give the Chamber of Commerce a jingle. But for now, I'm here in my little River town that I love and love to hate.

Good night, y'all.

Oh and one more thing...

....can I just say that MISERABLE people are MISERABLE to be around and make absolutely NO sense to me whatsoever???

That is all.

Happy "Holy-Shit-This-Treacherous-Year-Is-Over" Day!!!

1-1-11. Tehe, that's fun to type.

Had a good New Year's Eve, full of errands and helping sick people and trying to keep kids and adults from fighting. It was grand! But hey, got to play Wii bowling and watch "Despicable Me" for the 4th time in 24 hours. "Liiiiightbuuuuulb!"

SO let's get into it...When dealing with my anxiety, I usually associate the numbers 1-10 to determine how mildly or severely it's affecting me. So from this point on, I'll be describing my anxiety as a "Level 4" or a "Level 7" in order to help give a broader picture of that day's experience.

For a good chunk of yesterday, I was at a Level 3, which usually requires some deep breathing and a couple repetitions of a positive affirmation, but I had a couple really good distractions to keep me pretty level. The peak of my issue came after Midnight rang and my husband had to drive our friends home 5 miles away. For obvious reasons, I was quite anxious and stayed awake long enough for him to pull back into our driveway, safe and sound. Much of my anxiety is triggered when he leaves, however, being a symptom of agoraphobia, I am encouraged to practice this exercise often to where I am quite comfortable and secure when he isn't home.

Funny, never thought of it before: when he was drinking, he was unpredictable and unreliable. I awoke many nights to him either being gone or yelling for our dog at 3am, drunk off his ass. Ever since I've been back home with him, I haven't been able to fall asleep until he is inside the house. Strange how trauma conditions our brains...

One thing I've noticed is the lower my anxiety level, the less determined I am to actively recover. I think of this as being similar to taking anti-biotics: you'll start to feel better after a couple days and will then want to stop your course of treatment, however by doing so, you may be creating a much larger problem for yourself in the future. Wow, I just came up with that! What a great image, so I'll keep this image in mind when I'm starting to feel like everything is fine and back to normal. The key, however, is to not facilitate more anxiety strictly because everything is fine (hey Moms, does THAT sound familiar?).

Before I began my journey to recovery three months ago, these bouts of panic would overwhelm me and I'd wait anxiously for the sensations to pass and then move on with my life. However with this phase of anxiety in my life, that "finalizing moment" has yet to happen; rather, the anxiety has persisted, day after day, with small "eyes" of relief. Needless to say, it wasn't hard for me to start feeling hopeless and like a victim in all this. The question "Am I going to be like this forever?" circled in my head, like a vulture waiting for me. Then came the torture of looking back to prior days and feeling like what I was once able to do no longer comes to me with the same level of ease (such as going to the store or stepping outside my house) created a lot of stagnant energy. Hopelessness coupled with self-doubt is all you need to really lose your mind.

In Dr. Bourne's book, he describes the specific personality traits that create the perfect environment for anxiety to move right in. Of these, the most persistent that have been my biggest challenge are the "Perfectionist" and the "Critic." These two bitches insist that you're never good enough and WILL never succeed, no matter how hard you work, thus creating the perfect soil and bed conditions for the seeds of anxiety to grow. Statements like "you should" or "that was stupid" are sharp words when dealing with anxiety. Their other two sisters, "Worry" and "The Victim" chime in their two cents as well with their "what if's?" and "I'll never get better." So what's the solution? Believe in yourself and find the courage to change.

Change doesn't come naturally to humans, I think. We're conditioned to stay in our "conditioned state" by the electronic goings-on in our brains. When we start to build newer, more efficient pathways in our heads, our brains see this as a threat and go into overdrive to ensure these pathways fail. It is in this theory of mine that I believe I'm having the persistent anxiety. Also, it's not easy learning how to believe in yourself when you've spent so much time criticizing yourself. The process of dismantling self-criticizm and negative-self-talk is similar to learning how to grow new arms. But if I had lost my arms or had messed up arms and yet possessed the capability to grow new ones, you bet your ass I'd do it.

So in light of the New Year and the human tradition of "resolutions" I'll be following a path in which I'll learn how to love and accept myself for who I am, what I am capable of doing and that I can make mistakes just as gloriously as anybody else. I will turn my "What If's?" into "I can"; I will take my bad thoughts and transform them into positive realities for myself; I will empower my victim to learn that the world is NOT out to get her; I was will show my Perfectionist that sometimes it's the mistakes that enhance our lives. I am the phoenix and I am rising.