Breaking the Silence


May 07, 2010 :: 8:19 PM

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black mountain symphony :: lucky dog, worcester, ma :: march 31, 2010

Staring at the floorboards for what seems like an hour. Looking out the window, it’s starting to shower. They say, “It’s all in your head.”
“Grandfather” - Black Mountain Symphony

How I wish it were all in my head!!

I mean, I know it is all in my head… it’s bad brain chemistry, but I wish this was something I could control.

Some days, the meds just don’t work. There’s no fighting biology some times.

And that, my friends, fucking sucks.

Such is the life of someone with bipolar…

I have been having a REALLY. BAD. TIME. lately. Really bad.

Since I’ve started the new job, and finally have an excellent idea of just what I’ve gotten myself into, I’ve really been keeping a tight watch on my cycles. I’m careful to work like mad one weekend and take the next one off. I’m trying to avoid anything and everything that could even come close to stressing me out. (Outside of work stress. There’s no way to escape that yet. Except working weekends…)

Well, all the prep and calendars and med management in the world couldn’t keep me sane during the past few weeks.

I’ve been in the middle of a manic cycle and I just knew my father’s anniversary was going to suck. It wasn’t a self-fulfilling prophecy (as was suggested by someone GRR!), it was just a fact. I knew that it was going to be rough - when the nightmares start, I’m a walking wreck. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it works and I was having the nightmares long before the anniversary. So yeah. Reliving the afternoon I found my father and then ID’ing him in the coffin every night for a week or two is certainly a harbinger of what’s to come.

As if the nightmares and manic cycle weren’t enough, Mother Nature decided that she had another trick up her sleeve: PMS.  Thank you, Mother Nature. Take an already mentally unstable person and screw with her…

Oh yeah, my mother’s birthday is May 3rd. My parents’ wedding anniversary is the 10th and Mother’s Day is the 9th this year.

Recipe. For. Disaster.

I started reaching out to those who knew me before all hell broke loose. I started reaching out to other members of The Dead Parents Club.

Apparently, that was an ingredient in the recipe.

I don’t know why, but EVERYBODY and their mother (ha ha ha) decided they all knew what was best for me. How to beat the bipolar. How to move past the 30th. What kind of clothes I should wear to fencing. What kind of house we should build. What I should do with my hair. Even a well meaning friend added fuel to the fire when they commented on what type of bicycles the hubby and I should get.

I just kept getting so, so, so upset that I went pretty nuclear.

The meds normally keep me from getting to that point, but it was pretty much “abandon hope, all ye who enter here” by then.

I don’t know what to say…

I know who I am. I know what I want…

I am grieving. I am an orphan.

I want my father back.

If anyone has any suggestions on how to bring him back (and not zombie-back, because EWWWW!), then I’m open to your advice.

If not, please keep your opinions to yourself.

I can’t deal with people telling me things that go contrary to what I want or who I am. Not right now, at least. I don’t have the strength to deal with it…

Talk to me next weekend - after The Ick has passed and I have regained my sanity.

 

40 years and 4 dead…


May 05, 2010 :: 11:11 PM

(I’ll be back to the photoblogging shortly. Just not enough time in my day anymore. *sigh*)

My dad always wanted to to visit Kent State. He was obsessed with the shootings there. He planned on going May 1, 2001. He died April 30, 2001.

This is for him:

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We’re finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are cutting us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are cutting us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We’re finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio

“Ohio” - Neil Young

(On a side note - I got to see the original handwritten lyrics at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame while Dad was still alive. He was not impressed. WTF?!?)

I see you.


April 25, 2010 :: 10:57 PM

I can see you all over my stats.

Don’t think I don’t know who you are, or why you’re doing it.

Go ahead. Spend hours combing through the archives. I guarantee you you’ll find all you want and more.

I’ve tolerated you and your insecurities long enough.

It. Is. War.

As my dad used to say, we’re playing a game and it’s called “You Lose.”

Your turn.

Scars are souvenirs you never lose.


April 18, 2010 :: 10:10 PM

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goo goo dolls :: casino ballroom, hampton beach, nh :: april 14 2010

I saw the Goo Goo Dolls at the Casino on Thursday night. (Obviously!) They were awesome. The energy coming from the stage was intense and the energy coming from the audience was just as intense. The last time I saw them, we were at Great Woods and there was a tweenybopper next to us. Ms. Tween was whining the entire show: “When are they going to play that song? You know, the one from that movie?” I wanted to punch her so badly. I will never understand why people will spend so much money on concert tickets to just hear (in her case) one song. Seriously. She didn’t react to any of the band’s other hits - just “Iris”. That song, from that movie.  *sigh* This crowd was different - EVERYONE was into it. EVERYONE around us knew the words. We sang to each other. We sang to the band. We sang. And it was… orgasmic.  (Well, it was before and after they played “Broadway”. That’s the only one I can’t stand - in a ““Losing My Religion” makes me want to pry my eyeballs out with a spork” type of way. The lyrics just hit too close to home.)

It was general admission, which means standing in the crowd, getting jostled and trying to look around the tall people. I have to say, my years of hopping around to all kinds of all ages shows certainly helped make the night a wicked freaking awesome success and a half. I got the very nice tall, tall guy and his just-as-tall friend to stand behind me instead of in front of me. (There’s a certain way to do it so you don’t come across looking like a douche.) and I was able to get a spot in front of the soundboard. IMHO, that’s where the sound is best. Don’t ask me why - I’m sure there’s a reason, but I discovered it accidentally. From my awesome vantage point, I also got a very good reminder as to why it’s so damn hard to take good concert photos. So many people think all they have to do is point the camera in the general direction and push the button…

It’s not that easy.

For starters, there’s the issue of focus. Performers don’t stay still. Especially performers who have wireless instruments. I couldn’t keep up with Johnny at several points. If I couldn’t, there was no way my camera would be able to. You should find a stationary point about the same distance as the performer, push the shutter down halfway and get the focus to lock. Follow the intended target and snap the picture at any point after the focus locks. 9 times out of 10 it will be pretty decent. They won’t always be crystal clear, but they’ll be clear enough.

Then there’s the flash. YOU. DON’T. NEED. IT.  Turn the damn thing off, or diffuse it. Between your flash and the stage lighting, your pictures will either get washed out or it will look like they’re performing in daylight. I can’t think of a single concert picture I’ve liked where the stage lighting hasn’t been used to the photographer’s advantage. I can’t think of a show, either, where the photogs in the pit have used a flash. I actually got a new camera for my birthday - a Canon S90 specifically since it’s good in low light conditions. So far, I’ve found it to be a little too noisy when I’m taking photos at shows, but as I’m getting better with it, the pictures are getting better. Definitely operator error, so far. I’m starting to come to the conclusion that the better the camera, the harder it is to get good concert shots. I love my Nikon D40, but it’s too damn complicated to bring to a show. My wicked basic, point and shoot, Olympus Stylus 1010 was definitely my go-to camera, but I’m phasing it out in favor of the Canon.

Anyhoo, Johnny came out and performed “Sympathy” acoustically all by his lonesome. Best. Goo Goo Dolls. Concert. Moment. Ever.

I wish for things that I don’t need (All I wanted)
And what I chase won’t set me free (All I wanted)
And I get scared but I’m not crawling on my knees…

Stranger than your sympathy
All these thoughts you stole from me
I’m not sure where I belong
Nowhere’s home and I’m all wrong

It was such an amazing night. It was, without a doubt, one of my top three concerts.

In other news, I’ve decided I’m going to learn how to fence. With a sword! Yes, yes, yes, clumsy, awkward me with sharp metal objects. Someone’s losing an eye or dying. Better make sure my life insurance policy is up to date - J will be bummed if I die an accidental death and he doesn’t get that big fatty check. It’s something I’ve always thought about, but never done anything with. I’m pretty shy when it comes to learning new sports, especially since I’m so uncoordinated. But, I need to lose weight and I don’t want to “exercise” (*shudders*), so I’m looking for something fun to do. We’re also talking about biking, kayaking, and rollerblading. That all sounds like fun, especially since we can do a lot of it in the parks near the water, but I’m really, really excited to play with more pointy sticks. I really think it’s fate - there are 4 fencing clubs where I can take classes within about an hour of where I live.  Wow.

I’m a little amused that I received a very nice “thank you” type message in my Facebook inbox from an unexpected source. It’s not from who I wish it were from, but even if it were from that person, it’s just a little too late. All I’m going to say on the topic is “vagina boob”. Take from that what you will.

 

Caught in a moment


April 11, 2010 :: 5:45 PM

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bear :: black mountain symphony @ the lucky dog, worcester, ma :: march 31, 2010

So. The new day job is kicking my ass.  I feel like I’m working around the clock. I go in on weekends. I bring work home. I stress all the time over the details. And that’s just doing one company’s books. I was hired to do the books for five different companies - all under the same corporate umbrella. The main company I’m working on right now is a bit of a financial disaster. It’s totally fixable, and we’re on the right path to finally become profitable, but holy cow. This week, I took on the books for company number 2. I’m definitely not complaining, though. I LOVE IT THERE. The people are awesome and Boy Wonder always makes me laugh. I’m fortunate that I went from bouncing paychecks and temper tantrums to working like a dog but having a blast. Definitely a change for the better, and once we get profitable, it will be even more awesome.

I went out to dinner this week with a former co-worker. Her eldest daughter is my age, so from time to time I look to her for motherly advice. Life got completely funked up weird this week, and I really appreciated hearing her take on certain things. I will admit, I giggled like a fiend when she yelled at me for taking jobs at struggling companies and trying to turn them around. I failed at the last job - but only because I was being fought every step of the way. This job, I’m excelling at. Mostly because I’m a superstar. She kept telling me I needed a cape because I’m SUPER TAM! I laugh every time I think of myself at my desk with my cape on. I have GOT to find a cape… and maybe a tiara.

I got busted on Easter Sunday for being at Bean’s instead of Rhode Island for Easter Dinner. Didn’t really enjoy the fact that I was accused of turning my back on them. Telephones work both ways and they always knew where my father was - he would have passed out my information to them. (At least they did know where he was right up until he moved to Ohio and died.) I can’t continually apologize for “disappearing” so that I could take care of myself after my mother died, and I refuse to do it any more. People don’t accept the fact, or would prefer to ignore the fact, that I hated my mother with a fiery passion. I really, seriously, wished her dead all the time. When she died, my father and I did indeed sing, “Ding dong the witch is dead.” (Yes. Yes, we did.) However, I needed some closure and I never got it. I needed to know the woman my father loved, and I never got that chance. Sorry to drop an f-bomb, but that seriously fucked me up. I was broken and I had nowhere to run, no one to fix me. This was a situation of my own doing and I have to live with the choices I made until the day I die. So, yeah, I was in a pretty shitty mood after that conversation.

Thankfully, I was able to stop at the ocean on the way home. Sitting on the rocks, watching the waves crash. That heals me in a way conversations - even really good ones, with the best friends a girl can have - can’t. I connect with my father when I’m near the ocean, smelling the salty air, and it just makes everything better. It didn’t hurt that I had a brand-spankin’-new kayak on the top of my car, either. Today, the Wonder Hubby and I took the kayaks out and cruised around the salt marsh behind our house. If the wind hadn’t sucked so bad, and we hadn’t fought the freaking tide, it would have been a perfect outing. More healing after the crap that came down this weekend. It’s like I’m not allowed to have a fun time without getting shafted on the flip side. Grr… 

Also keeping me on the right side of sane when I can’t get to the water is (surprise!) music. I journeyed into Worcester on a Wednesday night a few weeks ago now and hung out with Black Mountain Symphony. (Check out their new album!) Since I got there too early, I wandered into the bar across the street from the Lucky Dog and ran into the band. (There is nothing like getting a huge hug from Bill!) I helped them lug their gear into the bar, which had the side effect of getting to talk to Bear. He’s such a nice guy. His sister, Annie, is a sweetheart, too. They’re all nice people, really. I’m fortunate that I got to meet them and even more fortunate that I get to call them my friends.

Of course, every outing has to have its defining moment. This one had several - loved getting the shout out from Bill, and did not love being asked if I was Annie’s mother. Dude, I’m not that much older than her! I wasn’t nearly as insulted by that as I was in one of Dave’s friends asked me if I was married to Derek, though. (Yukadoo! A) D’s so *not* my type and B) Seriously? EEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!)  The best part was when J and I went to see BMS again that Friday. The guy that asked was at Friday’s show too, and he was telling the table about how he insulted this girl - some “super fan” from New Hampshire - by asking if she was Annie and Bear’s mom. I couldn’t help myself and told him that if he was going to talk about me, to do it louder so I didn’t have to struggle to hear him. *grin* 

I still smile every time I think of this message Orion posted to my Facebook wall: Hey Tamara! I just wanted to thank you again for coming to see us play so much! We’re grateful for the support and it’s always good to see your friendly face at our shows! It’s really quite encouraging actually smile There’s nothing like being appreciated… and it really makes me want to head up to Albany to see them again since they don’t get down south much.

Water, friends, music, and working like a dog… that’s my life for now and I. Could. Not. Be. Happier.

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