Tuesday, November 29, 2005


I need silence. I need the noise in my head to stop. I need the noise in my life to stop.

My life the last couple of weeks and especially the last six days has been a constant feed – a data stream that just won’t stop and in fact keeps picking up speed.

I haven’t had five minutes to myself in weeks. It feels like I haven’t had anyone turn to me and ask how *I’m* doing in a long time. To say no one has asked would be a lie. The Math Whiz and Pony have been my closest allies as of late. For them, I am especially grateful.

And Ren the Rockstar was my rock Sunday night when I called her broken down and in tears at 11 p.m. because I was at the end of my rope. I had nothing left to give – not even to myself. I had given and cooked and served and tended to and loved and listened to everyone who needed it over my five day weekend including a dog that lived temporarily at my house.

Once I had Ren on the phone, I could barely articulate why I was so exhausted. All I could do was cry and tell her I had nothing left – that I was empty.

Ordinarily I would have called Young Stud. He has been there for me emotionally in ways some of my friends will never understand. There is a level of trust there that is unbreakable. He has proven himself to me over and over again just by his integrity alone. He is a man whose arms I feel completely safe in. At 11 p.m on a Sunday after a long weekend, I wasn’t sure he’d answer and I needed someone to answer my call.

I wasn’t searching for someone to fix me. I needed someone to care…about me. Only me. For just a few minutes I needed to be the center of the world. I needed to cry and I wanted so badly to be held while I did it, I’d have driven to the ends of the earth to get it.

I am always strong for everyone else. Sometimes it feels like I take hit after hit in life and have no choice but to stand strong because I have to (especially now that I have Auburn Aries) when all the while I’m crying inside.

This was only my third Thanksgiving without my Mom. It’s the first one without my brother Jim. I missed my parents and my brothers who’ve passed on so much it hurt. I missed the crazy camaraderie that is my family. The laughter, the stories, the drunkenness, the arguing, the grazing. I haven’t heard, nor will I ever again, the sound of all my family’s voices in one room. God how I miss that. I feel so alone.

For five days I couldn’t keep up with dishes – they seemed to stay stacked up all weekend regardless of how many times I loaded the dishwasher. Plastic water bottles piled up faster than I could carry them out to the recycle bin. I would just put food away and it would be time to eat again. I would settle in to study only to have Aries interrupt me to ask what I was doing. I was jealous because Toddy had the freedom to go out and have a few drinks sans responsibilities and I didn’t. I couldn’t get the laundry done.

I walked past my altar time and time again, each time it spoke to me more loudly than the last. I needed to meditate. I need to burn some incense and center myself. I needed to sit still and feel the earth beneath me. I couldn’t. There was no way I was going to get enough quiet to find what I needed.

I’m wound so god damned tight it’s going to take me hours to disentangle. And quite frankly, I have too much shit to do at my house.

What I need is to get laid. I need to have hours of unadulterated sex with someone who can keep up. I need to be worn out. It always pulls my shoulders down away from my ears and helps me breath. I need the clarity that follows it.

Then I need to be left alone – to do a ritual, to meditate, to listen to music – classical music or something new age (lyric free) while I don’t talk to anyone. That’s right, I want to use someone for their body and their talent and then send them away. I’m being selfish.

Funny thing is, I say that however sitting on the couch with someone to hold me while we watch a movie would probably equal that of an intense session o’ sex. There’s got to be something in my future…sex, being held, or a good flogging. All opposite ends of the spectrum, I know…but I’m a complex woman. Just go with it.

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