grace

As NEDA week wraps up (well, wrapped up), corona virus wreaks havoc on the city, the country and the world, as i exit the dentist chair once again, i am left feeling so sad. So weak. Helpless. Vulnerable.

Everything feels so uncontrollable, not only beyond my control but beyond human control, beyond science. A worst nightmare. Not even a nightmare dressed like a daydream, just a big ol' black nightmare.

As I sit on my couch, my laptop cradling my knees and quieting my soul -- the irony that my pharmaceutical advertising workload calms my mind does not escape me -- my emotion leaking out my hopefully uninfected respiratory system and out of my pores, I can't seem to stop myself from reflecting. In the world so broken, in a mind equally conflicted, the uncertainty of it all turns the room sideways and upside down and straightens it out again.

Who can guess what will become of the world now, of the broken-hearted. Will we all just evaporate or corona-contract ourselves into nothing? Is 2020 the apocalypse decade, year, moment? I cannot know, nor can you. But it seems it is in these fractured times that the most clarity and profound sadness descend themselves upon my yet-unwashed strands.

The days I've spent in environments most people would not fathom; the sterile hallways in the west part of the world. The friends I have made who I have watched go from sick to sicker; the friends I have lost. For nothing. For what. Thinner legs? Flatter stomachs? Fuck that. Concave torsos have done anything but comfort any of us; they have destroyed them and contorted themselves into the opposite of beauty or health. Yes, the friends I have lost; the laughs I have heard that are no longer.

We never know what will happen; we must live in the moment; make the most it...blah and blah and blah and blah. But no, it is really true. how I wish i could hug my mom today, my grandma. But my mom is a germ-ridden plane ride away, my favorite grandma a hugless impossibility, in her blue sweater in the sky. I love you, Grandma, I miss you forever.

The grief that broke my soul. I never believed in the physical effect of grief until it broke me into pieces, changed the chemistry of my body, my being, and my soul. When my Grandma exited this world, so too did a piece of my heart. It has gone missing and while I am no longer looking for it, it is still gone, I have simply realized it. The grief that broke my already weak body, sauntered my stomach and struck me with a blow so hard I could not get up without healing hands to lift me.

What can we do now, but wash our proverbial and physical hands, stay nourished, and keep going. "Make the next right decision." "Give ourselves grace." What can I do but be myself, my less-than-straight arrow, my still-working-through-it-but-better-than-I-was, my authentic truly trying-my-best in life, be the Rachel I always was, before all the chaos and abundance.

That is all I can do. I am still here; I am still me, and all I can do is maintain my hope.

:)

Giving into the nighttime ain't no cure for the pain.

You gotta wade to the water.

You gotta learn to live again.

And reach out for the healing hands.

There's a light where the darkness ends,

Touch me now and let me see again.

#eltonjohn

#80slove

#healinghands

#agreed

the bitch is back

stone cold sober as a matter of fact...and still standing. #elton

TRUE TRUE TRUE TRUE

dry af.

sober bun

5 months sans any alcohol...living for sober life.


<3 elton="" p="">

Dresser Dabblings

Living life after being in treatment is weird. It's a feeling, at least, to me, of constant, never-ending duality. Of two lives lived and living, co-existing (and not exactly peacefully) in this one shell. I say shell because really, all we all are are physical shells for our our amorphous souls, that which lies underneath incrementally more important. And yet...so much, if not all, our and society's focus seems allocated to the shell we show to the world. 

But, as I always (used to) do, since I don't write much personal stuff these days, I digress.

Living my life here in my old quarters is just strange. It is strange a lot of the time, if not always. It's March 24th, 2019 now. I just booked a ticket to see my mother for Passover next month. Then I ate dinner. A year ago, I had a ticket booked for Passover, probably didn't eat dinner, and sat in this same apartment, well, probably laid. In just a few short weeks after a year ago today, I would get on a plane (to be more accurate, be dragged by my very frail arm by my very rightfully fraught-with-fear mother on a plane) to Denver to spend the next 4 months in "treatment". But, knowing what i know now about treatment and having been to 2.5 treatment "centers" the 4 months I spent in Evergreen and Pine at ERC was really not much like treatment to me so much as dare I say, a psych-ward/hospital. Yes it was treatment and I do not imply Renfrew or something like that is peaches and cream, but ERC, particularly Evergreen, was, as I like to make light sometimes, prison meets camp meets prison. 2/3 pysch ward lockdown, 1/3 camp. With cute bedspreads, but yes.

So, yeah, just rewind time a year ago and freeze frame on my lack of a life; skeletor-Rachel vibes. But no, it's really not funny. Those were the days my dear client would take me aside and ask if I had cancer, when people whispered about me and I heard them, thank you very much. "Ew, look at that girl." "Ana". "Ugh gross". Yep, I heard it all. At the end of March 2018 into April was the worst state i ever was in, and while I knew it somewhere, and every time I stepped on the godforsaken glass digital scale in my hallway, I also didn't know it. 78 pounds graced my eyes, and left as quickly as it came. I knew I was sick but I didn't also. 

Something about this moment now, end of March 2019, with another toothache, on another antibiotic, has left me "feeling the feels" big time, as Alanna always said. The picture in this post is deliberate, too, and not just because it touts my current "good vibes only". On the left in the photo is a card given to me by Alanna, my genteel yet incredibly forceful and remarkably amazing therapist Alanna at Evergreen. She handed it to me the morning I left EG after breakfast for Conifer, happy as a damn clam, with my net bag on my shoulder, ready to kick Conifer in the ass. Yeah I really was happy as a damn clam to get the hell out of Evergreen; I was also quite teary eyed, a bit scared (and looking back on it, rightfully so, as leaving those prison-esque hospital walls of the Evergreen jungle has proven to be quite challenging at times, liberating yes of course, challenging as fuck, you bet. Having the independence and autonomy to make (and second guess) my own choices is a double edge sword, a catch 25 of catch 22s, and any other metaphor you want to insert. Point is -- it is hard every damn day. But to continue -- Alanna handed me that non-goodbye serenity now (I had forgotten about our line till i read it just now) card as I walked out the padded doors. Bye, Alanna, she hugged me then, I cried and am teared up now. That moment was also the duality of dualities. Get me the fuck out of this hellhole...but yikes...what lies beyond those walls is/was/is a hellhole of another breed too. Conifer, after Conifer...too much to delve into. The Good Vibes only sign hung on my wall in my room with my EG roomie Gwen for 3.5 months. Yeah, good vibes only...

On the right in the photo is a card given to me on my birthday by my non-TX long-time therapist Michele. Michele, the usually-calming force who has kept me from falling off a cliff several times throughout my non-Denver days...er, all of them minus 4 months. Michele the "other mother" and lord knows I will NOT go there again in this blog, Namaste. She gave it to me on our birthday bagel outing...an outing which did not go as I had planned...real life that day foiled the birthday bagel. But yes, the card is from her. 

So, my dresser decor is fraught with meaning, rife with loaded memories and above all, reminders of where I have been, how far i have (mostly) come, and yet...I know where I have been. 

Life is large. Social media is strange. The friends I made in treatment seem to dominate my social media feeds, their bodies seemingly shrinking on my screen every day, their struggles pervading my iPad and my heart. My first next door neighbor in Pine attempted suicide last week, a girl down the hallway passed away. A best friend in Evergreen at the same point I was a year ago if not worse...don;t get me wrong, some, well, few are well and good, and for them I am happy and proud. But somehow, the struggles and downhill slopes seem to outweigh (awful word use here, please ignore) the flat terrain, and it all weighs on my still-beating heart. All the time. 

"I work hard every day of my life, I work till I ache my bones. At the end of the day I take home my hard earned pay all on my own...." had to quote it somewhere in here because that song is too apropos to my state of mind not to quote. But I do. I work hard every day, I work on myself, I bust my butt for my clients, my boss, my mom. I work to eat my meals, sometimes force feed myself so I don't get sick again. I work hard. I show up. i show up to work, I show up to my appointments, I do my hair, I smile, joke around about the snacks in the kitchen with colleages like "anyone else". I get it all done. But I have stuff. I have cards on my nightstand, and some demons in my heart. I have love to give, laughter to let out. I have all of it.

But life is certainly a mixed bag...and I suppose I'll keep on shaking it up, for as long as I possibly can. 

-RB, 3.24.19

Reigning Queen... true tales

...I work hard every day of my life
I work 'til I ache in my bones
At the end (at the end of the day)
I take home my hard earned pay all on my own
I get down on my knees 
And I start to pray
'Til the tears run down from my eyes
Lord, somebody (somebody), ooh somebody
Please can anybody find me somebody to love?

Everyday I try and I try and I try
But everybody wants to put me down
They say I'm going crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Ah, got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe in
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Of note

https://themighty.com/2015/11/what-eating-disorder-feels-like/?utm_source=NP&utm_medium=Facebook&utm_campaign=Project_Heal

How Apropos

Before the parade passes by
I've gotta go and taste Saturday's high life
Before the parade passes by
I've gotta get some life back into my life
I'm ready to move out in front
I've had enough of just passing by life
With the rest of them
With the best of them

I can hold my head up high
For I've got a goal again
I've got a drive again
I wanna feel my heart coming alive again
Before the parade passes by.

A Show to Go.... (in other words, current Broadway To-See List)

Since I am back, and Broadway is thereby also back on my radar of items of note and desire, PSA (and mental note) of shows of current desire to see, not in order. Well, mostly not. Since I saw the divinely wonderfully fabulous incredible no-words-needed-to-describe Hello Dolly with the more divine Bette Midler for a second round last evening (insert grin too wide for face ahhhh), I will exclude this from the list. Actually, on second thought, no I won't, for there is no maximum number for times seeing Miss M in whatever the show and definitely not in Hello Bette...er, Hello Dolly. The limit does not exist. (How apropos this reference is actually ON Broadway right now right?) So, without any further ramblings, the list:

1. (Still have not seen and still dying to see) Dear Evan Hanson. Yeah yeah, I know what's his face Ben whoever is not in it anymore and it is about suicide and stuff but definitely still a must-put-on-have-seen-list-ASAP. Well, maybe not ASAP but eventaully.

2. Summer. My cake pops have not melted and I do love me some Donna Summer, however cheesy or cliche this what-looks-to-be-flamboyant musical appears to be. A definite must see.

3. Mean Girls. Cause, obvi. How could I NOT want to see it?

4. Phantom of the Opera. Yep, still on Broadway, in fact adjacent to the Hello Dolly theater, still a classic favorite and still on my to-see-for-fourth-time list.

5. Hello Dolly. My love for Bette Midler is obviously limitless and as such, thereby so is the number of times I would like to see her divinity in this show. Hellloooooooo Bette.

6. Hamilton. I meeeeaaaan, frankly, despite shocked reactions, this has never been #1, (well, or #2) on my to-see list, and without Mr. Manuel in it these days, it still frankly, still isn't. But, I wouldn't, like, complain if someone handed me a ticket. You know, I'd go. ;)

Since Three Tall Women closed (sheds tear), this brings my list to a close, at least for now. Until I have some Broadway news, reviews, or muses (sort of rhymes right?), stay well, be true and be you.

With Broadway lights,
Rach

Living for This

https://www.goodmorningamerica.com/news/video/bette-midler-returned-dolly-57129993


Love youuuuuuuuu, Bette.︎

Morning Musing

It is not for others to judge relationships, whether friend, romantic, professional or otherwise. There are elements of every relationship that only those within it can know, truly understand. Cliche bliche but...just as it is not fair to judge until you walk a mile, run a 5K or stroll a block in another person's shoes, such is the same to assign judgment to another's relationship. It is not right to deign to assign judgement or understand a relationship external to you (and by you, I mean one), in the absence of being in it. It is not fair but more so, impossible.

To feel all the feels (thanks for the phrase, A) in a person to person relationship, you simply must be in it. What happens between two people, again regardless of the dynamic between them, can only be known to those people. Obviously, I speak from the experience of having an "external" (let's use that term) individual assign judgment to one of my personal relationships. And let me tell you, Bunnies, that does not feel good. Understatement of the, er, quarter.

I will keep this morning's musing brief, as that is really the bulk of my conveyance right now. A gentle reminder of sorts. A kind of musing. A human observation from the inside, the outside and all the spaces between. If you don't understand something in full, that is okay, but better to not pretend to do so. Pretending to fully grasp anything when you in fact do not, in this matter, a human relationship, leads to unnecessary and oftentimes erroneous judgments, hurt feelings, injurious words and at the end of the proverbial day, avoided confrontations. If you're outside of something, try to remain there. If you're inside of it, well, stay put if and when you ascertain it's best to do so.

It is okay not to decide where to stay right this second, just remember what has been, what is now, what is true and what is you. All the rest can come later.

That is all I know that is true...this morning.

❤︎Rachel❤︎

*Post note of apology for vagueness utilized in this post. Sometimes a little vagueness goes a long way.