the sinking

I remember this time I told myself not to fall in love with you
and you convinced me to think with my heart not my head.
You worked so hard for me to believe you, we planned plans and made promises and then you left me for your ex.

And I found out, on my own, on the fucking internet.

I talked myself into believing that the last month of spotty conversation and strange vibes was due entirely to your illness and need to be angry about your declining health. I talked myself into believing I was being too sensitive, reading too far into things. I was wrong to do that because I was right that you were lying.

This is not a mistake I will ever make again. This is the last time I trust anyone with my heart. And I'm not going to think with anything but my head ever again.

concrete oak

my heart is big and hard and heavy
and when it feels lighter
it hurts more when it sinks
and I have to repair the cracks and refortify
without knowing if this was the last storm
or if the ship will come home.

Dagny

I want to say that I'll be seeing you around

but I won't because you're gone now.

You're flesh and bone and vacant soul.

And I keep wishing I had said more when you still could.

And I wish I'd known you better because now you're reduced to legends.

I wish that you weren't the last thing my grandfather had from before he had us

because I'm sure this will take more of a toll than he is able to pay.

You looked too small, so frail in that bed.

Your poor feet you could no longer feel.

And all your family from around the world had come because that is what you meant to us.

That the world is small and you go to where you are needed, if only to bring the soup.

You mean tire swings to us, and skinned knees, and crokinole, and fights between siblings, and hidden chocolate stashes, and mysterious houses to us.

You meant fun and laughter to us.

And you meant a hug whenever we needed it whether we knew it or not.

You're another dead woman I feel I've made a promise to. A promise you'd never have held me to in the first place.

I should have kissed you more. I should have heard more stories.

2011 fucking sucks

My aunt is in the hospital. She will die this week.

She is my grandfather's last surviving sibling. Her death will usher him out with her.

My mother's first husband just died. He was also my father's best friend.

It's killing both of them.

My mother is sick. And keeps getting bad news. I worry that she's going to get cancer and die too.

And there's nothing I can do because I am working so much.

I'm working so much because I need the money.

I'm behind on everything.

I keep spreading myself thinner and thinner just to keep up appearances. I wonder when I'm going to break.

This has been the worst year ever and it's not even winter yet. It's going to get colder and darker and more lonely for me, and how selfish is it that I'm so concerned about how I feel about everything?

Fuck.

are these values pre-assigned?

I feel like I'm walking down the up-escalator and I can't turn around.

If I stop, I'm going to fall flat on my ass, but I can't ever seem to get to the actual bottom.

So all of that pushing away I did? Yeah, it worked.

Sometimes I think I just want someone to fight for me to be in their life.

I don't want to deliberately cause strife, but it's hard to be around people who seem to be ambivalent to you when all you do is care about them.

No one is fighting for me.

Everyone seems eager and satisfied to pass me by.

Even the people who said, "Fine, if you need a break, I'll leave you alone for a few days, but I'm going to call you."

...That was 5 months ago. And then those people forgot my birthday, which would be forgivable if it weren't for bloody facebook. And the daily activity I watched from the people who said they'd call but never ever did.

I know these types of tests are unfair, but I think it's also unfair that I have to conduct them at all. I try to make my friends feel that I value them and I get nothing in return.

My sister's boyfriend is half-living here, half-out of province and when he's in the room it's like I'm invisible to her, even if we were mid-conversation. And I think that's worse than being ignored completely in the first place.

Someone once explained it as "expendability" and that's exactly what it is.

But what does it mean then, when I readily admit that every person I meet, I actively prepare for the day they're no longer in my life because they are inevitably going to leave and the only thing that makes it easier is expecting it?

trying to slog through

The weight of this is wearing me down.

I don't know how much longer I can carry it.

Why can't everything either be easy or stopped completely?

I don't want to cry anymore.

I don't want to wait anymore.

I don't want to be anymore.

What's the point of all of this if I don't enjoy anything?

I haven't laughed in so long I might have forgotten how.

And if I haven't forgotten, I'll feel guilty about it because it will mean I've let my guard down, that I've let something affect me.

I have a list of things I need to do and I'm almost done.

ticking

All of my time is spent waiting lately.

I wait for the time when I have to get out of bed.

I wait in traffic to get to work.

I wait at my desk until I can go home.

I wait in traffic to get there.

I wait until it's time for me to go to sleep.

Every day.
Even on the weekend, I wait for it to be Saturday morning.

I wait for it to be time to sleep again.

I wait for Sunday to be over.

All of this waiting and clock-staring and I accomplish nothing. Nothing is worth the effort anyway, so why bother trying?

There's no hope in my life.

I keep saying goodbye to people like it's the last time I'll see them because they're going to come to their senses and walk away from me pleasepleasepleasego.

All of this waiting is exhausting.

And I'm tearing through my library of unread books, reading 4 or 5 a week. I don't know what's going to happen when they're gone.

I'm going through the motions though. Laundry, dishes, vacuum, groceries. Not because they need to be done (although they do), but because it's just what you do. You just do these things. These are the things that mean you're "okay" and "sane" and "everything's going to be fine because look at you carrying on" but that's a lie.

And being lied to is harder than not being spoken to at all. It takes more effort, and I already mentioned that I'm exhausted.

an unexpected attack

Yesterday, after the last, there were more messages sent and received.

M: Harsh...not playing your game of negativity. Hope you find happiness, and stop lashing out at someone clearly trying to make amends.

R...: This is not a game to me. And if you wanted to make amends, you'd have done so prior to your conscience requiring it just before your departure.

M: Forget it. This is stunted growth....

R...: I want you to know that you broke my heart. Unless you actually want to talk about everything, never ever contact me again.

M: Piss off. You're bitter and hateful to me. I don't need your shit. I clearly tried to rectify the situation, and you can't get by your own hangups. I have nothing to prove or justify to you. I was and am still trying to be a good friend, so fuck yourself for turning down an opportunity to make things right.

R...: You are the one who said you weren't up for it; don't put your cowardice on me. I've been nothing but honest and forthright with you from the get-go; if you can't handle it, that's your hangup, not mine. I'm not going to pave over everything that happened just because you want to pretend that it didn't. That is not the mark of a good friend and neither was your behaviour over the last 6 months of our friendship. Your resistance to even casually try to see things from my perspective shows you to be selfish and immature. Before you call me names, you should self-evaluate. I cared enough to want to fix everything that was wrong, not just start over just before you leave town.

M: Good luck to you. You'll need it.




I have no idea what would make someone I loved want to treat me this way....

so my phone rings

and it's him.

THE him.

And I'm half-hoping it's a fucked-up pocket call.

And I let it go to voicemail, because, well, obviously.

He left me a message. An actual message.

Nearly a YEAR to the fucking DAY I told him I never wanted to talk to him again.

He's asking me if I want to go for coffee because he's "looking to leave Calgary this summer."

I can't feel my skin, my heart is in my ears.

I can't reach anyone who might care to get any advice on how to respond, so it sits for 4 hours. The elephant in the phone booth.

My sister says, "Text him." The "conversation" is as follows:

R...: Um, hi. Your call caught me off guard; I didn't expect to hear from you ever again. What do you need to talk to me about?

M: Not much, just saying hi! I'm moving to TO soon so I wanted to make some peace, whatever that means.

R...: It's going to be a tricky conversation; if we're going to talk, I feel like we need to talk about everything. Are you sure you're up for it?

M: Uh...maybe not. I'm in a good space right now, so not up for confrontation. Either way, hope you're well. Take care.

R...: I don't want a confrontation either, but it's going to be difficult to talk after a year of absolute silence. I'm not trying to make things harder for you, M. But they're not easy for me either.

R...: Walking away from our friendship took a lot out of me and I'm *still* trying to figure it out. I'm not sure what you expect from me. If you can't respond to this, then I'm sorry you tried in the first place. Have a wonderful life.

M: Let the past go. It helps with everything. I've had to learn this the hard way. Sorry you aren't over things but someday you will be.

M: I'm tying loose ends, and you were a good friend while I was here. Ignoring that is wrong on my part.

M: Sincerely, I wish you well.

R...: I got absolutely no closure from the whole situation apart from what *I* was able to say. I got nothing from you other than basically, "Get over it, drama queen." You meant a whole lot to me, and I still mourn you, but I'm happy you were able to get over everything really quickly. It's a pity that you weren't able to call me a year ago to wish me well; maybe this whole thing could have worked out. I wish I were more than just a loose end to you.

M: I get that. But I didn't choose to stop hanging out with you. You made the call. Phones work two ways, by the way. Regardless, your friendship was and is valued.

R...: Do you even *understand* why I couldn't be around you anymore or are you thinking this is still about the catalyst last March? Do you stand by the things you wrote a year ago? Before I can leave it all behind, I need to know you get my point.

*30 minutes later...*

R...: You can't even give me that. You're a coward. Go fuck yourself.



So the pot is stirred and I'm again reminded why I'll never trust anyone with my heart ever again. It's safely back in the lock box behind the fence encased in concrete and lined with lye. Never again will I let this happen to me. Never again will I go through this. I will not allow it.

My head hurts and my heart is broken again.

Thanks so much for that, M. Apparently things aren't hard enough right now, I needed that in forefront.

Sisyphus

I pushed and pushed and pushed and met no resistance and now I'm alone which is a very dangerous place for me to be.

And if I'm at the top of that hill right now and the only place for me to go is down....

December 6, 2009 - the conversation

It started as an argument. You said I don’t value you like I value them. You were wrong and I was upset that you hadn’t given me the credit I felt I deserve. It came down to my having to tell you what I didn’t want to tell you, what I haven’t wanted you to know for three years. And then I told you.

And your reaction was less than what I expected it to be. You weren’t upset, though not reciprocal. You in point of fact told me that you aren’t worth loving at all; that I should love someone who has more money, a car, a “good” job. You said you didn’t have a future, but that you wanted me to be happy with someone. I was so frustrated. Crying from both eyes, as you noticed.

You discouraged me, then kissed me twice, sweetly. Without precedent, and considering the subject matter, I’m now more confused than ever. It’s difficult to explain the relationship to anyone who doesn’t know us both, and more so to anyone who does. They believe firmly that we’ve been beyond that line, that we’ve been “involved” and just never told anyone. That any of the so-called drama between us is of my making and I’m being sensitive.

I’m stuck in this place between what you did and did not say, what you did and did not do, where we have and have not been together. These pieces haphazardly thrown together with your speaking in euphemism and incomplete sentences. Bundles of nerves all triggered and forced to numb. I suppose I’m happy to have finally told you, but your radio silence is a regret. I’d hoped, however naively, that there would be a fundamental change in our relationship that would ultimately keep it exactly the same, if less murky.

But you’re quiet, on the other end of a perhaps unreceived text message. It’s convenient. And tricky. And painful. But there is room for plausible deniability, which is useful.

a bargain

I traded my friends for this depression and I'm feeling like I got a bill of goods.

toxicity

The things I am doing to myself are poisoning me, but I can't stop because I'm in control and I like it.

my pride is going to destroy me

Why can't I apologise for this?

Why can't I just say, "I'm so sorry. You're right"?

Why not this time?

Because I'm ashamed of myself?

I have this immediate refusal to make amends here. Like to do it would be to give up some power, and I don't want to want to keep this power, but I do. And I'm holding on to it so closely, I can't even see what is slipping away, what I'm losing over these stupid things I have done. My knuckles are clenched white and my eyes are closed tight and I'm screaming to block out the sounds everyone is making.

I take every opportunity to make it about how *I* have been slighted. How *I* have been hurt. How *I* am the one who deserves the apology.

My stubbornness won't let go though.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

Even though I know I'm wrong.

challenge accepted

I feel like I'm on a mission to punish anyone who has the audacity to care about me.

Like I'll make them sorry for ever having bothered.

I'll make them regret it.

I'm not sure if it's to actually protect them from my instability or if I'm just proving myself right. That it's so easy to be rid of the people who "didn't really want to be there in the first place," all I have to do is be a little bit mean, a little bit insensitive, a little bit ambivalent to their presence and they'll just leave.

post script

The next time I feel suicidal, I'm certainly not going to say it out loud.

patterns

I have a habit of pushing people away just to see if I can.

I will justify and make excuses for my behaviour and wait to see who sticks around to call me on it and who shrugs and walks away.

I've always had this talent of alienation.

And I give up on people so quickly and easily.

I keep thinking, "Whatever, I made you leave because then I'm in control. It's not like you were going to stay anyway."

So far this year, I've gotten rid of: 2 family members; both of my parents; 2 friends; a third friend is on the way. We have a lunch on Wednesday and that will be the middle of the beginning of the end.

If someone were to call me on it, what would I do?

Probably lash out and push harder, actually.

Any kind of vulnerability is unacceptable.

Never tell anyone anything.

Never confess to anything.

Never say anything to anyone that cannot be said to everyone.

Embarassed? Run away.

Angry? Say it out loud.

Hurt? Say it out loud and run away.

People get one shot with me. ONE.

If someone breaks my trust, it's never ever coming back.

I forgive, but I never forget. Honestly, I'm not sure what I do is forgiveness.

It's probably more beneficence, which ultimately keeps me in control.

I gift them with my forgiveness, but it's conditional. I don't think that's the way it's supposed to be.

I am a giver of gifts of strings.

After years of trusting people who let me down over and over and over again, I stopped trusting anyone.

I created a facade of independence, of righteousness, of strength.

But I'm in a forced solitude, I'm a hypocrite, I'm weak.

I believe no one will ever find me worthy of anything so I act like no one's worthy of me.

Still, I strive for my own version of perfection.

I eat less.

I eat less and less and less and hide it behind a "diet" that actually seems to be working.

I'm falling back into the pattern of only being able to control myself, so I do it to an extreme.

It's like returning to a house you moved out of 14 years ago, when you said you'd never set foot in there again. And then you're reminded of the comfort and the smells and then the memories overwhelm you and you're back in that spot of 15 years ago when everything was fine but not really.

Before you left it.

Before you changed.

And now I'm the same again.

And I was nothing then.

I was wasted on this. I was a waste.

to whom should i be true

I made the mistake of telling too many people about this.

I should have kept it closer.

Right now, I'm torn between writing what I feel and fearing that it will be seen.

Part of me doesn't care who I piss off with what I put here. But another part wants to write something soft and lovely so no one is offended.

Aaah, I think I just made a decision.

over

My life would be a whole lot easier if I felt like it was going to be fucking worth it at some point.

As it stands, I can't see it. And I'm so desperate to be done here.

10:57 p.m. MST

I used to be able to pound all my little thoughts out on paper. As poetry, lyrics, kindling.

Now, I concern myself with the analysis of my little thoughts until they aren't thoughts anymore, as much as they are incidental and meaningless.

I used to have friends I could count on and now I have a group of people who I used to know and respect. Am I the one who changed or are they? Did we all?

How much of what I miss is the actual person and what they once meant to me and how much is it the feelings I had at that time? Do I miss the guy I said I loved, or do I miss the idea of what we had, which at the end was nothing?

These things roll over me like waves of grief and worthlessness and are compounded by my self-disdain, and now I'm worried for my mental health again and how often I've been thinking of suicide, in a different context than ever before.

It was once considered a great and difficult gift that I would be giving to those I love: an existence free of the burden of me.

Now all I see is the pointlessness of it all: I'll never be thin enough, have enough money, be confident, be successful, talented, etc., so why bother?

And I cry.
A lot.
All day, on and off.
At work.
In the shower.
Right now, in bed, when I should be sleeping.
I cry.

And I don't want to anymore.
I don't want to go through this again.

How much longer, how much more of my life do I have to dedicate to this heaviness, this sadness?

Because if everyone has their cross to bear, and everyone has their lot in life, and sometimes life's just not fair, I'm not interested.

If this is what I was put here to experience, by a fictional divinity or by an evolutionary shot in the dark, I'm too tired to see it through.

It takes so much to feel this way all the time: to feel completely worthless, and friendless, and useless, and talentless, and lifeless at all points in the day and have to fake the happy or at least the ambivalent because emotions are professionally inconvenient.

It's exhausting and I'm so tired.

I just want to sleep and never ever wake up.

Happy Birthday

My Blackberry told me yesterday that it was your birthday and I managed to avoid recognition of it until late last night.

Happy birthday. I hope your girlfriend got you something nice.

An Emotional Duvet Cover

I'm picking up tiny pieces of comfort lately.

Not comfort from what you'd think, but things in general.

I have a handle and then I'm dangling again and there are sharp parts of life that poke my feet and my neck and my heart.

I'm finding comfort in music which I haven't been able to do properly in years.

I'm finding comfort in the air which, when it enters my lungs, revitalizes instead of overwhelms me.

I'm finding comfort in mysterious sculptures that I have a hard time defining. I see that they are beautiful and I see form, but I cannot see it how the sculptor saw it, or how he commanded the stone into what it is now.

I get so worried sometimes that everything will crash and I'll be dark and sour again. I keep hoping that the peace that is here at this second only will remain for a bit longer.

And I have to remember to breathe deeply for relief. I forget and then I breathe shallowly and nothing feels as good as a breath that goes all the way in and all the way out.

I Am Single Because

I had a date on Friday. With my friend's brother. And what I was thinking, I cannot tell you because I have absolutely no idea.

I knew that I was smarter than he is which isn't necessarily a dealbreaker, but when what he is saying is laughably inaccurate, one must question his conversational value. Regardless, I decided to give it a shot. And then proceeded to wish someone would shoot me.

He argued against my reproductive rights. No, seriously.

He told me that "it's a fact that 100% of terrorists are Muslim."

He posited that the Gulf of Mexico is completely and 100% free of any trace of oil and has been since a couple of months after the spill.

He maintains that we could fix global warming by MELTING THE ICE CAPS.

Everything he had to talk about was a conspiracy: they they they.

He asked ridiculous rhetorical questions and actually waited for me to answer them. Par example: "What if the Queen wanted to claim back Canada? She owns it and everything in it. Would you fight?" and "Well, who owns the energy?"

He implied I was complicit in the problems in this country because I make purchases.

He denied that GST is a voluntary tax. It is, but he disagrees....

He tried to get me to work for him pro bono because I'm really, really good at my job and our fields are related.

He also tried to show me nifty ways to skirt the tax system. Y'know, by committing fraud. This coming from a guy who, I have been informed, has gone bankrupt twice.

Apart from the above, I also paid for my own dinner and the entire bill at the pub (because he was short for his half) where we went afterwards to watch some friends of mine play a gig. I may be a feminist, but my position on first dates is traditional: You ask, you plan, you pay. Otherwise, it's NOT a date. That evening out cost me $80.00 that I kind of needed.

He's also a TERRIBLE driver. And a divorcé. And he showed up 20 minutes late. I was almost going to order take out and leave. Lord knows it would have been cheaper; more fun, too.

Apparently when he asked his brother if he could have my number, my friend said, "Listen, (wife) and I really like R.... Don't screw this up." I am confident that I get to keep (Friend) and (Wife). They like me more.

I am asked often if I have a boyfriend. When I reply no, I get, "Why?" and "Don't worry, you'll find someone soon!"

Thank you, but I don't need anyone. Especially anyone who's anything short of fucking awesome. As much as I'd like to believe that there's someone out there for me, I'm too practical to think that's actually true. So I'm not holding my breath.

Here's a list of reasons why I'm single:

- I actually really enjoy being alone

- I have 3 cats

- I am independent to a fault

- I have a low tolerance for stupidity

- I hate my body

- I don't trust anyone

- My heart is still broken

- I feel like if I believe that I've always wanted to be alone, it will be less painful when I actually wind up that way

- I'd rather be by myself than with someone about whom I am ambivalent

- I am terrified that I will meet someone and that it will hurt more than it already does because everyone leaves; it just depends how long it takes me to push them away

- I hate the pressure of new relationships; they aren't exciting, they're scary

- I can't lie

I'm Going to Miss You

Whenever I see you, you're as magical as always.

Goofy and irreverent and not at all serious.
I saw you cry when your wife died and that to me enhanced your strength.

And now you're sick.

And now you're dying.

And it's going to be slow.

And my heart is breaking for it.

This thing that's stealing you from me can't even remember my name.

It's going to sit inside of you, frustrating you, hurting you until you give up.

I know your strength won't allow you to quit.

I hope that you do it anyway.

I'm selfish in that the last thing I want to remember of you is you hugging me and kissing me over the holidays, and telling me you love me too.

And you remembering my name.

I hope that my sister comes home in time to see you, instead of just in time for the funeral.

They're going to ask me to sing, my family.

They're going to ask me to sing for you. A hymn. For GOD. That guy who's not even real and if he were, he SUCKS because he's killing you with this disease that can't even remember my name.

I'll agree to sing the hymn for you and for GOD and I'll lie and pick my own.

One that actually means something.

One that assigns humanity and mortality to humans and shit happens.
They'll be mad, my family, as they usually are.

They'll be disappointed and quiet and seeeeeeething. So angry.

But I'm not going to care because you're my family too and you would love it, the song I'm going to sing for you and for US.

And my family only show anger behind closed doors, never to faces, so I'll be sure to avoid being on the same side of the door as they are when it's closed.

I'm only going to miss you forever, you know. Not that long at all. It's only for always.

I'm quitting

After receiving an e-mail from a beloved family member requesting an apology for something I didn't do, I decided that I need to minimize people's exposure to me lest I be completely misinterpreted again.

I'm ditching my facebook and have resolved to avoid everyone for as long as I possibly can. I'm interested to see how many people will be able to get a hold of me without it, and how many will want to.

So far the year has done absolutely nothing but screw me around and I'm tired of it. I don't have anyone I can talk to about it, I don't have any way of fixing it, and I always seem to come out looking like the loser I've always believed myself to be.

This isn't a suicide note, just resignation.

Alone is better.

Alone is safe.

I don't need anyone.

I need me.

I have me.

I'll be fine.

Funeral

I can't look back at that today
One more reminder of where I wish that I could
Leave
More than I bargained for
Few surprises but less to
Receive

Close the door
I need it
Hold me out
For something
Let me fall
No stopping
Walk away
And grieve me

Just strike a match and watch it burn
Cold never felt so good as this moment in this
Place
Shake every offered hand
All expectations on the floor in
Disgrace

Close the door
I need it
Hold me out
For something
Let me fall
No stopping
Walk away
And grieve me

Shame rolling down the hill to rest
Torn from the bodies of those unwilling to change and
Learn
Tears that are dry before they fall
So many promises to break, wait your
Turn

Close the door
I need it
Hold me out
For something
Let me fall
No stopping
Walk away
And grieve me