not much doing

went out with cousins for my cousin's batchlor party. very tame, which was fine with me.

actually, a lot of fun. spoke with this little kid, son of my cousin--i know this means something like second cousin, or removed cousin or something, but i've never been good at this sort of thing.

and had lots of brazillian meat.

and today, kind of wasted it. for some reason, stayed up till five last night/morning. i could do it tonight, but that's always easier with five liters of beer. had some last night. first in a week.

hope things get better, but not holding my breath. ten cents short of a pound of flower. maybe one package of pasta. not much else.

see therapist tomorrow.

mom emailed me. apparently, it's over--in a good way. news to me.

wants me to go on vacation. feel pressure. hate taking things, but who am i.

already borrowed money from him. which is odd, but whatever.

took my seroquel and drinking coffee, so should be asleep soon.

a new thought, and not a pleasant one

maybe momster stopped payment on that check.

which would put me back to square zero

pro cras

I've been putting off working on my advisor's assignment.

I know this is bad. It's been for several reasons. The latest, I coupled my attempts to get in touch with mom with finishing the assignment. But I've done that.

The worry, she'd respond immediately. And in a way that would get me all riled up such that I couldn't work on it.

But there's no response. Meaning she's either thinking about it, or she's away from the email. I can't decide.

But there's a third alternative--she's giving back to me what I was giving to her.

Which is possible.

And I don't know what's worse, a response or no.

Anyway, it leaves me with no excuses other than I have some problem with the assignment, which I do...

I'm afraid. Afraid it's not good enough.

Well, time to face those fears.

Oh, the review

yeah. it went pretty well. tried to cull some of the things i'm never going to do.

was moderately successful.

projects: 60

someday-maybe: 350

todo: 140

I know those numbers are a little high, but I've been procrastinating.

On to the paper for my advisor.

And substance abuse. I know I haven't been posting on that lately. It's because I haven't been able to aford it.

Just wrote mom

whew.

That sucked. Not as much as the phone call I'll inevitably make, once the phone is turned on again. Once Ma Bell gets her two hundred.

It was good I had a game plan--worked it out with the therapist. It was mostly a good one.

I'm afraid I wasn't contrite enough. Oh well, how much can you grovel before it becomes repetitive.

And I no longer feel bad that I have to appologize for something she essentially started. But I did take it too far.

It does show me one thing: our relationship must not be so tight if I can go so long without calling. To be honest, except for the last few days, I didn't think of it at all.

Which says something. Not to get over dramatic, but it's kind of like being an orphan--not relating to either parent.

The sibs have interesting relations with them. Sister always felt close to dad. Brother with mom. Sister fought Mom, but through that fighting, they grew closer. Brother hated dad and I sometimes wonder if he's gotten over it (bronther, not dad. Dad's dead.)

Me, I never understood either one.

feel like a schmuck

not calling the momster.

i'd a douche. it's that simple.

but i do have a small excuse.

and this time, it's intentional, which probably makes it worse.

oh well.

can't take it

two messages from the momster.

and i just can't take it any more. would work better if i turned something into peter.

then i'd feel like i can do this.

so, taking the 9:25 train, so i can get away and so i can buy some coffee.

resolved the tobacco issue. returned a surge adapter to the pharmacy. bought tobacco.

might have been able to buy coffee as well, but didn't want to press my luck.

if only i had paid for it with cash originally.

but saving receipts finally came in handy, although i haven't been good about logging them.

it's amazing how one night's stupidity can ruin so many other days.

well, it seems like thoughtlessness is remembered long after thoughtfulness is forgotten.

But what doesn't

loosing funding. unstructured depression. loosing a girl you've known for years and dated for six months. batshit crazy psycho-obsessive-girl-you-dated-for-a-little-while stalking you, friend of ten years flipping out at you on your birthday, in public, causing the girl you've known for years and just started dating to leave you (who can blaim her). mom freaking out at you and accusing you of ruining her golden years. finding a job that might lead to a career out of the school rat race only to loose it again, unexpectedly.

All these things fade away with drink.

But what doesn't, loosing an idea.

I was out at the bodega, and had a brilliant post.

now gone.

That'll fuck you up, no matter how drunk you are.

Mom's getting help

I try not to read the things mom sends me.

too upsetting.

but she wrote me that she's made an appointment with her old therapist, dr. phil--not the abusive one from tv--and i'm very glad. for her and for me.

i'm sure that there will be more outbursts of anger from her and from me, but these are the kinds of things you have to work through, as you well know.

take care.

normally i wouldn't do this (yeah, right)

i'm tnt dynamite.

how'd i go in a moment from serenely praying for peace and love to borderline rageaholic behavior?

Give you two guesses and the first one doesn't count. that's right, momster.

she's been active today. one voice mail, one email.

and i can't stand it.

makes me flipping mad. talked to the shrink about it and he wants me to go the hard way. which i'm trying for both of our sakes.

but motherflippin what's a brother got to do to be left alone?

after all, i made my bed.

of course, when i was picking the womb, couldn't really help the fact that i'm colorblind (well, not any more).

and you know, this helps me. and if it doesn't help you, just ignore it. this post or everything i have to say. choice is yours.

so, here's where we find ourselves. something like fourty some hours away from therapy, getting stoned on wine (slowly) and waiting for anyone to return my phone calls. (actually got my new jersey connection--said he'd get me back after unpacks and showers).

maybe romanian tonight. but eating out twice in one day seems a little decadent when i've got something like $380 in the bank (not sure that--did i unwittingly pay rent this month?)

so, so, so...

guess i'm all tuckered out.

i suppose three posts in as many minutes will do that.

to end on a high note--well, let's just keep this between you and me--i'm generally not happy with recent developments in south east asia, if you know what i mean.

I'm a little scared to post this

Hey,

It's been an incredible two months. So much has changed. So much has happened. Hard to imagine what hasn't, save moving house. Which I may soon do.

First, I clarified my relationship with my therapist. Then began to get my act together by cleaning. Then changed psychiatrist. Then began GTD in ernest (no easy act, as you well know).

Then changed drugs. Geodone, Seroquel, Lamictal, Ativan. And may move to Abilify, and one other Clonopin (sp)?

Then things began to roll, in large part due to dumb luck.

I was unemployed, depressed, going nowhere fast (save the hospital or, shudder, the grave). Got my job on. Loving it. Great boss. Great colleagues, great... well, you name it.

Then began the hardships.

First, the crazy girl I was dating freaked when I broke it off. One month we were together. No commitment. Low key. Once, maybe twice a week. She freaked. Called me hundreds of times over 2.5 days. Unbelievable, or so I thought.

Fastforward two weeks. 33 birthday. Small, cute bar. Good food. Sister, Brother-in-law, new girl just started dating.

Well, now ex-friend shows up. Good at first. Then he unloads. Just a freaking long tirade. I don't even know what he's saying. I don't even notice when every one but me and him leave. I just put my head down, like I've passed out, hoping he'll just go away. He does, after about 5 minutes and two passes. Keep the head down for 5 more--lest we show up on the same train or something.

Well, that's over. 10 years I've known him. Inexplicable. Or, so I thought.

Fastforward to this week. What was it--Tuesday? Well, Momster calls. And if you want to know more--just look down. It's all there, posted as it was happening.

Well, one of the nicest parts of it all is writing this blog.

And looking back on this post, I'm no longer afraid.

Not bad for an anonymous coward.

Reflections on the Momster

Well, here's something I've yet to hear David Allen address: not everyone can handle the new you.

People put others into roles. There's nothing unusual about this--like it or not, we all do. See, according to some, we can only deal with objects, not people. So, people become objects.

Enough arm chair psychology. Momster's flippin. I think in part because I'm doing so well.

When I tried to drop out of school a few years ago, because it was making me crazier than i am now, mom was all "school, school, school."

Now that I can do it, well....

Funny, that. You can't always get what you want, as the stones say, but you can get what you need--provided you no longer need it.

School isn't the problem. Work isn't the problem. Drugs aren't the problem. Am I the problem? Sure, I'm a large part of it. But I'm workin on it. And I'm changing my circumstances.

Caelum non animum mutat, sed caelum mutat.

just so you don't think i'm a total monster

i do love mom.

and i don't want to make her suffer.

but she'd do well to follow her own advice.

especially about getting help and taking care of her self.

i hope she does.

and she supports me, finantially and emotionally.

but i hope to cut the money ties soon.

just to post more...the conclusion

it's good. she's finally not getting me.

i feel invulnerable.

poor mom.

well, pour again, the total honesty.

she just can't take it when i'm sucessful.

it feels like she .. she might win.

her nag might outlast my anger.

maybe i'm actually learning something. when to be silent.

how much is the doctorate worth. right now, a hell of a lot.

think. what else do i do.

this is getting better. she's running out of ammo.

i'm winning. she'll get tired.

manipulating--that's one i can't get around.

to point out the contradiction is death.

because it has to do with honesty.

poor me--she's diggin out the big guns.

start thinkin--about others and about what you're doing.

i'm not giving way to my desire, but i'm just learning how to answer the right things.

i'm totally winning.

i almost won. and i'm winning now.

she's got nothing. i'm winning.

she's totally losing. i'm winning.

i won.

unassisted goal.

for now

because I need more to worry about, mom called.

total guilt trip.

sorry if this one's negative. just sayin

she wants me to take more responsibility. because... well, because... if i were you i'd talk to the philly shrink.

not that you're listening.

because you just do what you want. and i encourage it by responding.

well, i've got my armor on. and it's never like you listened anyway.

this one is too negative.

jezus. i don't like takin the name of the loard in vain.

and i don't want to get all wrapped up.

so why even respond.

the truth. it's an interesting to mom. she wants me to reaffirm what she already says. to totally fold. and i don't know what to say.

so fucking pissed.

yeah, i know it's my fault.

and it's my fault i'm wastin all my tallents.

so i'm not bein honest.

sorry for the length.

manipulation--another key term for mom.

god, i'm so embarrased by this post. guess that's why it's anonymous and i'm a coward.

you worry--it's a long way past that.

do you actually want to know how you can help me?

you don't know where the anger is? well.

one little positive--know how you can help me--be like my homegirl in dc--empathy not advice.

yeah, you're right, i don't know jack stuff about myself.

i know nothin.

again be honest.

you make me want to cut myself, but i'm not a teenage girl.

end point.

how do i get out of this conversation as fast as i can without comprimizing (sp) myself.

don't you have other things to do?

guess not.

there are others. that's true. lately, aside from some good ones, they've been makin themselves known.

again, how do i get out.

i'm not going to fold on the honesty and the responsibility. i'm takin it--on the cheek. and turn the other one. and take it again.

we're just not going to agree.

but i've got more patience than you do. i've got my armor on.

human. new term for mom. especially applied to me. by mom.

and atleast she remebers what i have.

bill, save me.

she is right about the drinkin. but how could i talk about the substance abuse without it. but that's no reason.

sorry for the pause had to refill my problem sauce.

oh, that's right, you're the internet, you don't notice when i walk away.

i am fragile. but i've got my armor on.

sometimes i forget other people. i don't know if that's her or me.

booze.

you've told me enough.

anger. it mostly comes out through sarcasm.

and do you really care--or am i just your trashcan.