Dear Hillary

You are a savvy politician, and I believe you were sincere for much of your career, but I also believe you became jaded through personal and public betrayals, and I think you lost sight of regular humans once you became a political success, as First Lady, as a Senator, and Secretary of State, and now as our nominee for President of the United States – a position that had meaning before the self-aggrandizing buffoon, Donald Trump, became a nominee as well.

I supported Bernie Sanders because I feel he actually cares about middle and poor America.  I know he’s insulated from the realities of life, realities which you and Bernie, and Donald, and every other politician at your level no longer understands, or never understood, that life is ridiculously tough.  Money is sparse, and real decisions over life impacting choices are not something any of you face.  Feed your child, or pay a health care bill.  Of course you will choose feeding your child, but not paying a bill means bad credit, and bad credit means a hard time having ANYTHING.

Do you actually give a fuck about me?  Do you?  You don’t know me. I’m just an ant in the mounds of ants below you.  You have the nicest clothes, the best food, the best doctors, private jets.  You are so insulated from actual life from the majority of those you presume to represent.  How are you going to lead so that the monied elite – such as yourself – will do anything for the poor, and the mostly vanished middle class?  You think those who make money off of humanity’s misery will do anything to upset their status quo – and now yours – because you accept their money, and don’t insult my intelligence by telling me there is no quid pro quo.  I’m poor, not stupid.

So, I will vote for you because Bernie Sanders, a true fighter for people like me, is out of contention.  What a relief for you.

I do hope you’re our next President.  I do think it’s time for a woman guiding our country.  I’m just not under any illusion that anything will change for me, and those like me.  I will vote for you because you are a better choice, but how sad that I don’t feel like you’re the best choice.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

 

Slip Sliding Away Again

www.partymom.com
It’s always great at the beginning of the party http://www.partymom.com

Drinking makes me feel different, and better – if I don’t drink too much. I’ll be giddy, and happy, and in love with the world, and if I step over that razor’s edge line, I’m in hell, but it’s the insanity alcohol abstention programs talk about, the thought that I won’t drink too much this time, or that third drink won’t effect me so much.  It’s what drinking does rather than how much I drink, because I don’t normally drink a lot, and I stop if I get near the vomit line, but trouble starts before that.

I know I’ve crossed the line when my thoughts turn dark and I tell my S.O. we’re through, that I just want to move to a cave somewhere and finish out my days without the stress of human contact.

In other words, I’m certifiable when I drink that next half a drink?  quarter of a drink? more than two. Wine makes me reach the terrible place sooner – but there’s more alcohol per volume than beer or mixed drinks, which are more diluted and I drink them slower because I associate liquor with danger more quickly.

I’ve also found that three drinks causes inflammation, and my back and joints are in agony the next day.  I could take turmeric, and other less, or non-toxic inflammation cures, but then I’m just putting band-aids on the problem which is over-drinking, or probably, any drinking.

But I love alcohol.  I adore drinking culture – those false promises of an easy life for those few hours with friends and frenemies alike – all having a wonderful time until the hangover hits, or the ride on the vomit comet that one of my friends experiences every time she over-drinks, and the ultimate realization that most of your drinking buddies are just that, and they’ll fall away if you alter the terms of engagement.

www.dailymail.co.uk
Homage paid to the porcelain goddess http://www.dailymail.co.uk

My goal is quitting the booze for good, and I haven’t made my goal, which makes me think I’m in trouble.  I’m a functioning drunk, if I’m a drunk.  ‘Problem drinker’ sounds less horrible than ‘a drunk’.  But the word ‘problem’ is a clue that my drinking issue needs solving.

For my first week of nephalism, I’m going to write ‘enjoy the insomnia and inflammation’, and stick that on the door so I see it on my night out with my girls, or even with my S. O..

Of course, I’ll probably use the other door to leave – but I’ll still know it’s there.

I wish I could smoke weed.  It gives me panic attacks though.  Not just some vague anxiety but OH-GOD-I’M-DYING terror coupled with the need to get out of my body, which I can’t do without the actual dying part, or if got knocked out, which is why I have Klonopin, that I haven’t had to use for panic for a long time, thankfully.

Panic attacks used to be a daily thing in my twenties and thirties. That really sucked. I don’t remember when they stopped, I’m just glad they did, and if I ever need  a reminder of panic’s scourge, I can just have a toke or two, and it’ll all come back to me.

AA is useful, and I’m glad it’s there, but I dislike the cultish feel, and having grown up in a commune/cult, I tend to eschew groups.

Alcohol helps me feel freer, and happy – even if it’s fleeting – and that’s what I chase. I like escaping myself when I can, but it comes with a price – to myself, and worse – to those close to me.

www.dailystormer.com
What a great party… http://www.dailystormer.com

A new definition of freedom and happiness is needed, and the only will power I need is against picking up that first drink.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

Tell Me

So many things I’d like to know – please tell me about your life. You think I worry too much, or that I think you’re in trouble all the time, and I’d like to change that.

Are you happy?  Is your life as full of joy as it is of challenges?

If I start asking the right questions, maybe you’ll know that I want enough for you, in all your life.  Balance is key.  Laugh, love, sing, dance, study, question, believe, cry, fail, succeed, care, think, and act.

I trust you and your life path, and that replaces my fear.  Believing in you, believing that you won’t waste this short life, or that if you do, that’s your choice, and it’s your prerogative.

My only ‘job’ (I wrote ‘joy’ by mistake, first, but I think it also applies) is loving you.  For sure, ‘love’ is a big word.  It encompasses all of life – not just the easy or joyful parts.

Life is learning.  That never stops, so I’m still learning too.  My emotion self is still immature, but my life experience is ever evolving.

Thank you for increasing my growth opportunities, and my dearest hope is staying connected – even as you wander further away.

I am grateful.

The Day You Were Born
At the beach
At the beach
Austen & me June 2009
High School Graduation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Man/ Boy and Mama Aug. 2012
Summer Before College Graduation

 

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

Love To Andy

In the time that’s gone by, I tried to see a reason for us, but ‘it’s one of those things’ is said, and ‘be glad you found it before you’re dead’, and I am.

I am.

Thousands of songs and poems say why: ‘it’s not the colors in his eyes, or the way he wears his clothes, or how he knows the things he knows, but it’s in how he thinks of and looks at me.’ It’s how he loves me so thoroughly – it’s so new.

I keep deciding to pull away, to leave and find my life another way, but I’ve started asking what I’m running for, because I truly know that there’s no better than this.

But this is not all there is, I know, and we don’t live to make the best in show; we have found happiness and joy, a port in a storm, a bond I won’t destroy – again.

So settle down I tell myself, this love we’ve found is real and precious.

You are the compass that points true, you are everything I needed but never knew, and if I tell the fear to leave me be, then it will always be you and me, together.

This is my song to you – to us – to love – to life’s joyful expression amidst life’s agony.

Thank you for your love, for your steadfast care and hope, and for giving me a chance to truly love you too.

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Andy & me at Yaquina Head light, Oregon, June 2016

 

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

 

Heart Of The Matter

At writing group tonight I listened to a friend read her piece about her birthday today and how being sixty was kind of amazing, and it made me feel like I can do this.  I can get to sixty someday soon, and maybe it won’t be so bad.

She is a strong, beautiful woman, and I might not have seen that at twenty, or even thirty, but time shapes us whether we want it or not.  I am not in control.  No matter how much I try to determine my destiny, I am foiled by this great unknown we’re all in.

We are all in.  Once in a while, some of us break out and try controlling the show, life events, or life’s trajectory, but they are quelled by others or by their own mortality. We came into the world by chance or by design, and maybe we’re supposed to cause an effect, or maybe just witness this incredible moment, because it is really only a moment – especially as I get older and see how damn fast it all goes.

I have no idea where I’m going from here, or if there’s somewhere from here, and maybe religion is right, or maybe it’s all a crock – all people just whistling in the dark – but I’ve found love, and friendship, kinship, beauty, terror, and horror, along with inexplicable help and guidance.

What I’ve found true is following my heart.  I might be wrong, but whenever I’ve tried to follow someone or something else’s idea of how to navigate this world, it’s caused deeper pain than just muddling through.

I can’t believe in a punishing ‘god’.  It makes no sense to me.  Maybe I’ll pay for that, but I’ll take my chances.  God is love, or it is nothing.  I cannot be better than ‘god’.  So, if there is such a thing, It loves and accepts me.

If there’s nothing, then this has been an interesting manifestation of life replicating itself.  I hope I’ve left more good than bad, and if my son has a child, or children, then our line continues, and if not, then we die out with his generation.  So be it.

Maybe we’ll colonize other worlds, or maybe humanity will perish with this one, but life on earth has abundant time left for whatever will happen.

And though I have no say, I’d like us to have mattered – to be the reason for existence – but that might be ego rather than reality.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

Life Collage

Magazine cut outs pasted on a board – a forward view of life well-lived.

An ocean cruise, me and you dancing on the deck with the smell of the sea and the sultry tropical air.

Stars winking above – atmospheric interference – but nothing in the universe is really fixed.

A wedding gown never worn peels away from the bottom of the poster – our hearts never became one because the darkness couldn’t depart.

I should have left it blank except for the words love and acceptance.

Was there ever a promise? Why did I expect more, or better?

Stories told, lies believed.  Sadness and sorrow linger.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current