Early Elijah

My work is tough and has very few happy endings, but when there is joy in the work, I feel a need to acknowledge and celebrate it–helps to keep me going.  On Monday, I was already in my PJs and ready to settle in for the night when I got a call from the grandmother of one of the young people I have been working closely with in the jail. She called to say the this young person had been released. This was not the plan, and while I do not want folks sitting in detention, I’m a prison abolitionist, I had been assured that this person had zero chance of release by their attorney. I had also told that attorney, that if ANYTHING changed about those circumstances, I needed to know so that I could go pick this person up myself and get some supports in place. The plan was for this kid to go to treatment as soon as the place where he’d been accepted started intakes again because they’d been halted due to covid19. But I had gotten no word from this attorney and when I called him and interrupted his supper Monday night to ask WTF, he had no excuse for why he had not called me. It is now my life’s mission to make sure this incompetent fuckwit doesn’t win the judge’s race he is in, but that’s a whole other story.

So, I go directly to the jail because I live very close by and begin searching for this kid. He’s not in the detention center where he’d called his grandmother from, but I see that the sheriff is in his office on his computer. I wave at him and indicate I need his help and tell him what’s going on so that maybe if any of his people come in contact with this kid, they can just call me versus whatever else they might decide to do with him. He’d hit the street with precisely zero resources–no wallet, no phone, no car, no place to go, nothing and with a forty times higher risk of fatal overdose if he returned to use, which when you feel despair BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO RESOURCES, happens pretty quickly.  Then I start driving out from the detention center to find this person. Less than 10 minutes later, he’s in my truck, and I’m trying t figure out what’s next. The shelter next to the jail is not taking people, the treatment center is still not taking people, his grandmother is just over line in SC, but he can’t leave the state due to probation. He calls a friend and we head that direction–it’s about a 45 minute drive. The friend isn’t home, and we call some other friends from my phone and message some people on facebook as we head back toward my house. It crosses my mind that this kid needs to stay at our house tonight, but my partner is SO anxious about covid19 and she doesn’t know this kid like I do so I was like, maybe she will be ok with him staying on a cot in the carport.  But my partner is amazing and was like, “of course he can stay here IN the house.” We set him up in the living room ingot him hooked on TIGER KING.

Tuesday I got up early and started scrambling to figure out a place for this person to stay. The treatment center called and asked about his possible exposure to the virus, but ultimately determined they still weren’t taking people. One shelter called me and said they’d check with their board but never called me back. The local detox isn’t taking folks, and in the middle of all that, my partner texted me to say, that she was fine with this person staying another night if nothing panned out. I reached out to the local shelter to ask if they would please just pull me this favor, and hit up the sheriff since he is on their board to beg him as well to pull some strings. Well, the shelter folks asked me a couple of questions and then said if he could stay with me one more night, they would get him in on Wednesday–an Easter miracle!  So we got this kid into the shelter on Wednesday and I’d had community members offer phones, a computer, and his grandmother visited him Thursday from SC and took him his guitar and his art supplies.  My partner is currently trying to find him a bike.

My amazing partner that I’ve already mentioned is Jewish, and we observe Passover, and at our Passover Seder last night, I talked about this kid who stayed with us recently.  You may know this, but I didn’t until last year at my first Passover Seder, but at some point, you open the door so that Elijah may come in, and in the case that any strangers knock on your door during Passover, you always let them in and offer them hospitality because that stranger might be Elijah. So when that moment came to invite Elijah in last night, I talked about the kid, and how he was our Elijah–just that he’d shown up a couple days early.

XRP n Me

I tried my hand at cryptocurrency recently. After six years of research and still not understanding the concept in-full, I purchased a very small amount of XRP.  I landed on this particular coin because it is already mined, it’s currently low, and it was created specifically to make international purchases fast+cheap where inefficiencies exist (not in UDS to EURO transactions but like EURO to INR or MXN to USD, etc.) Apparently, right now, like in the 1970s and 80s when the technology for electronic currency exchange was invented, there are approximately $10 trillion dollars tied up in banks around the world in order to facilitate cross-border money transfers. Banks have to hold these funds to insure (in a very physical and very INEFFICIENT way) transactions AND those transactions take DAYS. With the platform Ripple which is the company that produced XRP tokens to use on its international, virtual exchange, those trillions of tied-up dollars and that wait time is circumvented.

So, long story longer, the Ripple platform, using XRP tokens, is filling a gap in service for markets that have hefty room for growth.  It also doesn’t need to be mined which eliminates a few problems at once—one is my inability to understand mining, the second is the concern of the power-suck of mining cryptocurrency (please someone let me know if I am wrong to believe that XRP is innately more “green” than Bitcoin because of that), and three: the unintentional centralization that has occurred from mining leaving BTC in the hands of just a few miners at this point in time (supposedly these are all Chinese miners and I think that detail gets thrown in for a touch of fear-mongering which I don’t appreciate so I wanted to not include that in my assessment but also wanted to make sure the not-so-subtle racism/xenophobia of the tech industry does not go un-ignored either). One of the beauties of cryptocurrency is the decentralized aspect—I am drawn to it due to its ability to upend the dominant power structure. XRP has its own swirl of centralization controversy, but it hasn’t been enough to deter me…yet.

So I opened up my Coinbase wallet (Coinbase is a reputable site to store and exchange your cryptocurrency) which was a fairly simple process, and bought $100 worth of XRP at around 22 cents each. In the last few weeks, XRP has slowly climbed to 28 cents. It felt slow to me because I was obsessively checking the value of my XRP like I used to check my social media accounts. I would think to myself, “ah, after coinbase fees, I have made FOUR WHOLE DOLLARS! Woo-hoo!” My friend who taught me the most about cryptocurrency and encouraged me to dabble in it, texted me to say, “XRP is up!” There is a joke amongst XRP holders and probably most investors in anything that when XRP starts to move up in the slightest bit, everyone is like “TO THE MOON!!!”

Yeah, so I found myself in DC for a work conference this week, and as someone who is a combination of poor+unable to manage money very well even when I’m not poor, there was this perfect storm of a nearly empty checking account+needing to put $100 down on my hotel room+having to eat+seeing a good friend for a couple beers which all culminated in a -$2 checking account Wednesday morning. No big deal: I switched the $8 from my savings account over to cover that. Then I remembered, “FUCK, I am parked at AVL with 3 days worth of parking to pay for when I get home. Idiot. When I travel, I always shove a wad of cash for parking in the console just so I am not stuck like that, but it’s been a minute since I’ve carried cash, and I have had reimbursement on the brain therefore  wasn’t even considering that expense.

All this speaks to my lack of individual responsibility and would completely embarrass my mother if she knew about it, but how I got out of it would delight my biological father, as he is the king of getting himself into shit and figuring how to get out of said shit. I pulled up my Coinbase account at the airport and cashed it out to USD. But now the USD is stuck in Coinbase. So I just slide it over to the card with which I made the original purchase that Coinbase has stored, right? No. I keep getting prompted to add a bank account. Like I know those fucking account numbers, but still, if I had to could get a hold of them, I could. So no sweat yet, but what are some more options? It says I can add my Paypal.  PAYPAL?! I was just talking to my cousin before I flew to DC about how ridiculous and slow Paypal is,and whoTF uses it this day and age?! Well, somehow I was able to recall all my damn Paypal info and get that connected to Coinbase and send the USD to the Paypal acct and pay for instant transfer to my bank acct. I STILL CAME OUT AHEAD ON MY XRP PURCHASE! By like six bucks, but still. I didn’t lose money and if I hadn’t had that money hung up in Coinbase, I woulda already spent it and had to figure out something else in order to escape the Asheville airport parking lot like asking my partner to Venmo me (which they would do, but gah, again, they are super responsible with money and here I am being a dolt so it’s just embarrassing).

It’d be easier to just be responsible, wouldn’t it? But it isn’t. It isn’t that easy. Our childhood traumas can be quelled for a bit and we can seem to have a grasp on things for a short while but we can’t fully escape those things, the compulsions, the ingrained behaviors, and I’m less hard on myself now when I am a fuck up. It’s like, “oh,haha, you did it again, but at least this time you aren’t having a total goddamn meltdown over it.” Any positive change. And I was sounding so smart and with it at the outset of this piece, like I was some very well put together person buying my XRP conservatively and going out of town for work, but no, I am just a 38-year-old child.

My Fave Things

I haven’t written a blog post in over a year and a half. So much has changed. I went back and read the last few entries in this blog and cringed at myself. But I didn’t cringe as much as when I go and read my handwritten journals from the college years–that’s a YIKES! Still, a lot has changed. I did some yoga this morning in this cute apartment my friends rented in Lisbon for my bestie’s birthday weekend, and my mind began to wander, as it does when it is out of practice meditating, and it is very out of practice. It wandered over to “how long has it been since I last DID yoga? How long has it been since I last TAUGHT yoga?” and then I reminded me to be gentle to me AND to return to the yoga I was presently  in the middle of, yoga via the internet, yoga probably a year or so ago I would not have considered “real,” but yoga that I now get stoked to have access to. Yoga International is some quality teachers for cheap (and not racist like Yoga Journal!). Since my last blog post,  I am now a certified yoga teacher. “certified…” whatever that means. It doesn’t mean much to me, and that is one thing that has changed since even achieving that yoga “certification” in December of 2018. I realize now that most “certified” teachers are just appropriating the shit out of yoga and have no interest in coming off their privilege, no interest in collective liberation, no interest in doing the work of dismantling systems of oppression. It was a disappointing conclusion to reach. It’s still disappointing, but I don’t intend to let folks get away with it (like that yoga teacher in west Asheville who complained about homeless people near her studio and the yoga studio I left because they didn’t like me saying that we were practicing yoga on occupied Cherokee land, WTF?!). And that is why I am going to get back into teaching, get back into writing, get into writing about teaching, and pursue my favorite things with fervor.  I’ve already made first steps towards these things–I have been planning some ways to do that, been planting seeds the last year+. I have a pal from teacher training that I’m teaming up with to put on a decolonize your yoga workshop. It’s an intro to systems of oppression and decolonization and how those things relate to yoga and you personally. I look forward to putting this on with my friend and calling the white yoga community in to do social justice work and honor yoga’s origins.

What else has changed? I’m legally divorced–supposedly. I think my ex wife did not use my leg name in the divorce proceedings so I may not be divorced at all. When I called the Gwinnett Co clerk court last dec (2018), the person was so rude on the phone that I did not even ask for proof of the divorce but she did say it’d gone through in dec of 2017 and said it like I was dumb AF and how did I not know what name it was under ugh. Will call that office back at some point though.

I’m in a healthy relationship with an amazing human and we are raising a pittie-lab mix together in a cute little house in wnc. This person helped me out when I housed a homeless trans man for a while. She helps me out with everything. And she’s vegan. And she cooks really well. and she’s smart. and she’s funny. we’re so great and disgustingly cute. We hike all the time.

I have health insurance, really good health insurance for the first time since high school. so I’m getting top surgery this year hopefully. AND get on T! hopefully at the end of January!

I’ve gotten past the step of posting my intent for a legal name change and have actually initiated other steps for legally changing my name–thanks to that wonderful partner I already mentioned.

I’ve gained like 20 pounds. ever since my partner’s parents gave me a car and I stopped walking to work every day, I have gotten fat. I don’t like it. but I’m also like reluctant to do anything about it. hoping to find that motivation soon. may have sparked it this morning, *fingers crossed.*

I have a decent relationship with my mother. I have like health boundaries and stuff. it’s nice.

I work in Harm Reduction. It’s my dream job. AND I get to do it in my little town, around the county and in other parts of wnc. That position has also thrust me back into the political arena, for better or for worse.

I drink less than I did 1.5 years ago but still too much.

One way I got to drinking less was again my wonderful partner doesn’t drink AND I took a semester of welding classes this fall so I had pretty much zero time to drink. I only had time to study welding and be in the shop about 5 hours per night. crazy. crazy and awesome and fun. it was worth the tuition money to hang out with young folks at my local community college.

I’m much better at finding myself at the intersection of honesty and kindness–I’ve usually been one or the other. Now I’m more balanced.

That’s pretty much the last year and a half in a nutshell.

 

PMS

I always experience a little pre menstrual angst+anxiety and kinda want to die for about a day, but this go-round, it’s, like, ramped up, man. I’ve cried off and on for days, plural, and found it difficult to talk myself down from the “you’re worthless and should probably just end it already,” thoughts that have crept into my head. I dont think it’s just a Cancer trait, to suck up that negativity and darkness with an “I’m fine,” and go on when you obviously arent, but ya know, as a Cancer who used to do this, and as someone who knows two other Cancers that do this, while willfully ignoring all my other buddies who do this that aren’t Cancers, my unscientific study is that of course, it is the crabs (and the occasional Sag) who “I’m fine” it through life while their worlds are burning. That’s actually neither here nor there, except to say that i wish folks wouldn’t do that no matter what their astrological sign is. Since I’ve learned to express my distress in a healthy way to my buddies, gah, life is so much better cuz i can just ask for help. Generally, i don’t need to but like the past few days, i felt overly burdened by my own rhinoceros dookie-sized pile of emotions, and dang if some buddies didn’t rescue the shit out of me. Haha–rescued the shit out of me. Rhinoceros dookie. Yeah, I’ll show myself out.

Along with not just saying “im fine,” ive also tried to be less analytical about things in general. Like, “why did i get married last may?” Actually, i was super analytical about that. And I’ve been super analytical about why this last bout of PMS has been such a rager. A few things come to mind–i cannot afford unlimited yoga right now. for nearly a year, i took 6-7 yoga classes a week. I think not being able to do that recently has caught up with me because what amazing healing and growth and calm comes from a regular yoga practice. This realization that yoga has had such positive effect on my overall health prompted me to be humble and volunteer in exchange for some yoga classes. So that’s one thing. Another thing is that I’ve had a shift in my core friend group. One buddy took a far off job for an indefinite amount of time. He and i spent the majority of our waking lives together and so there’s that void. Also, a buddy of mine that used to spend a lot of time with me pretty much disappeared off the face of the earth once her girlfriend moved to town. i rationally know this person is busy with life stuff, but it is another void I’m dealing with. I’ve made a point to say i miss this person’ s presence and they respond well to that, and i get to hang out with her sweet girlfriend now but still, a shift, something to get used to. Ive been drinking too much–another factor. Coming from the restaurant industry where no amount of alcohol consumption falls outside of the norm and still cavorting primarily with restaurant industry folks, coupled with our society’s normalization of alcohol abuse, it is easy to let myself get away with drinking amounts that i would definitely lie to a doctor about, ya know? What a bunch of empty calories and a potentially bad next day. So im cutting back on that and hopefully it’ll help–when i wake up after too much drinking, and that can mean as little as 3 drinks, i have full-blown anxiety attacks that remind me of when i was in charleston 15 years ago shoving all the cocaine up my nose. It’d benefit me to drink less for sure. Another factor is im going on dates with a person that has my head out of sorts. Like, i second guess my behavior and stress myself out that I’m saying or doing something dumb. I struggle with attachment vs connection in intimate relationships some times, and the last two folks i felt like this about really did a number on me, so im already bracing myself for pain that may or may not even happen just out of instinct and self-preservation. Realizing that is happening is super fucking helpful–thank you, amazing therapist. That bracing for hurt before it happens looks like anger. I get angry like pre angry and use that as an excuse to call the whole thing off. Ive managed to not be an idiot like that yet, and am trying my best to work out what normal looks like so that i can just breathe and be present. Not drinking as much helps with all that stuff too. I watched someone i was intimate with last year implode recently and i know for a fact their drinking contributed to their really nasty attitude.

Everything is awesome. Everything is fine. Im happy 99.99999% of the time and it’d be unfair and weird if i didn’t have to experience some darkness. Like, i have it SO good that i need a little reminder every once in a while of just how amazing that is.

The 5th of May

One year ago today, i got married. Hopefully, in a few days, i will be divorced. Sometimes, i laugh about the whole thing. Today im kinda sad about it. Most of the time, im reminding myself of the lesson i finally teased out of the experience. From a very young age, finding someone to marry was my life’s obsession and motivated me towards all kinds of terrible decisions. Like moving places for people and being the support staff for other people’s dreams while ignoring the shit out of my own. I thought getting married would solve all of life’s problems. Like, I’d always have someone there to take care and who would also take care of me. And that all my anxieties would *poof* be gone. That did not happen when I finally did get married. What did happen though is that i am no longer propelled through life with this idiotic obsession and am for perhaps the first time in my existence living happy. I do what i want when i want and managed to create a beautiful community of folks that love and support me in all my endeavors. Ive evolved into a relationship anarchist where friendships are the goal, and i can’t conceive of another way of living my life these days, so, it’s a total win and today i really have to remind myself of that–being pre menstrual and a divorcee is like tryin hard to bum me out. I learned at short mt a few days ago to envision an unbroken version of yourself that exists in the fairy realm. That it walks with you and is a friend you can call on when everything sucks. Im glad at this moment to be aware of that option because i am like such a saddy mcsadpants right now, and feel needy and anxious and scared and like everything is wrong and i know very well that nothing is wrong in my life at ALL and this is just a temporary hormonal drop even though it feels like forever in this moment. I need to be meditating more and drinking less as one way to help myself and i need to be humble enough to ask for help from my buddies who so want to do anything in the world for me. I also need to right this second get out fo this awesome bath and hit the farmers market cuz that is some seriously great soul medicine. And that is exactly what my broken self and my fairy realm unbroken self are gonna go do.

Some People Have Real Problems

There was one point i walked out onto the front porch this past week, and interrupted my buddies’ conversation with my exclamation, “I have so many dates this week, i can’t keep them straight!” They looked at me and said, “GTFOH!” Super quality dates though! This past week i have been watching my housemate’s marriage fall apart. Her husband fell in love with her because she is a free-loving free spirit, but now he wants all that love and spirit for himself. That sent him into a downward spiral of insecurity and paranoia and douchebaggery which has resulted in me cussing him out and banishing him from the house indefinitely this morning. What a way to start the week! But sunday was awesome–i went out with a new friend on our second date. We went to see a kids’ production of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and then went out for a couple of drinks. Great conversationalist. Friday, i had a second date with another tinder friend. She ended up at the house as part of our huge snow day party,is real fuckin sweet, and can hold her own around crazy strangers. That entire 24 hours was just a shit show. That is when housemate’s husband was being real crazy. Hey decided out of FOMO that his ass wasn’t going to work. He then got pissed when my housemate got pissed at hi for intentionally not going to work. This guy had already been sent home earlier in the week for reeking of liquor and told to shower+come back. He didn’t go back. Now, he was gonna lay out again? My housemate parties her ass off, but she gets her ass to work–even when she isn’t scheduled. Who the fuck WANTS to go to work. That shit hit her wrong because she isn’t like that AND because this motherfucker is already borrowing money from her. Plus, i had said two days prior, i didn’t want to see his ass at the house until saturday at the earliest. But here he was with his third, boundary-busting appearance in that time. Anyway, he showed his ass for the last time this morning, and i told him not to come the fuck back to our house, EVER. I swore as the person who married my housemate and her husband that i would do everything in my power to help them through whatever. Ive been patient with this fuckwit as he figures himself out, but my first duty is to my bestie who is being straight up harassed by this man at this point. I would want someone to advocate for me like that in the case this was happening to me. Anyway, my Boone buddy comes next week. We are supposed to spend solstice in hot springs. Prior to that, another date friend person is my +1 to the company christmas party–guaranteed shit show. I’m going to start undoing my tech addition today. I turned off my cell and im going to leave my iPhone at home tonight while im at work–even though that’ll make it all boring AF. Got into vikings season 5 last night–i heart Ivar!

VEGANNOTTHANKSGIVING

One (of many) reasons i don’t attend obligatory family gatherings (such as last week’s), is that i have a few family members who are unnecessarily argumentative AND they don’t really have the brain power to be arguing with anyone in the first place but INSIST on demonstrating their ignorance.: one uncle who is a sober 7th Day Adventist and my dad but only when he is drinking. I do not have time for this bullshit. I only have space in my life for uplifting people and activities. That sounds unrealistic, but my life is great since I have cut out these excruciating holiday visits and set up alt dates with just my parents at a time of day when my dad has not yet begun to drink. My sister lauren gave me the low down on turkey day this morning. She said the shit head 7th Day Adventist uncle did his normal thing but to the nth degree, like my mother had to calm his ass down. What am i thankful for this alt turkey day? Again, that i wasn’t at the family turkey day. Someone managed to snap an epic shot of the beginning of my uncle’s rumplestiltskin-style tantrum and my parents and i recreated it this afternoon at peaceful, vegan, notturkeyday:

Back of the Head Girl

Im hoping that by writing about this ex, I️ will GTFOver the recent shit that happened. We broke up a year ago. We live in the same small town. Ive since gotten married (and am in the process of divorcing that person) and she has since moved in with her boyfriend who lives like 2 blocks away. We’ve gone back and forth, back and forth between being ok and not ok. When I️ left for South America and she left for California in early november, we were fine. She and my mom and I️ had a visit in my kitchen. Everything was cool finally. But now she isnt speaking to me, AGAIN. There are a number of reasons, not the least of which is that she unloaded a lot of intimate details about her current relationship that she probably shouldn’t have and probably now feels guilty about. Her boyfriend won’t even look at me unless I️ wave really hard. So I️ guess it could just be the obvious answer that he doesnt want us to be close and so she is going along with that. Idk. I️ call her back of the head girl because my buddy ian started that after he saw the coffee table in my house–a craft project that photodocuments all the places we have been together. I️ am trying to not react in anger because I️ DO that. And it isn’t cool. It also doesnt get me the answers im looking for. And it makes me look like a jackass. Thi sis just gonna be another instance where I️ have to be ok not knowing wtf is going on AND I️ hope to have the emotional strength not to let this person waltz back into my life when it is convenient for her. That will happen. And I️ want to respect my own boundaries.

TBH

What the fuck do you do when your ex girlfriend who is kinda your neighbor now stops by while she is walking her boyfriend’s really cute dog and proceeds to tell you how not great their sex life is–like not the intensity and the frequency and vagina that she got when we were together. It made me sad. I was like, “hey, you should be honest with your boyfriend.” Nope. And then we had another run in shortly after that where i directly said, “you have a problem with honesty–it was an issue our entire 3 years together. Maybe you should be honest about the sex you want–you arent doing yourself or your boyfriend any favors.” She still refuses to go that route, and I’m still sad about it. But i am happy she returned my cast iron yesterday–i joke about it costing me 10 thousand dollars as that is what i paid for an engagement party+a diamond ring for a girl back in 2012. Gross.

Then there is the anxious-insecure attachment I transferred from one person to another. Energy isn’t destroyed, people. It can’t just go away. Now, I’m trying to fix this attachment issue instead of just going full steam ahead with an attachment disorder. I always called it “being too much,” and while it IS that, it is something i can fucking address and correct. Yay!

How to maintain authenticity+vulnerability through this thing called, “LIFE?” I thought my wife had killed all that was soft in me but really I’ve found i am just softer after all this bad experience. I made it! so i think being authentic+vulnerable will continue to come naturally and maybe even increase exponentially throughout my lifetime. I mailed back my wife’s wedding ring today as she requested in early september and supplied me with an SASE to do the deed. She requested the iphone she gave me back but fuck her–i use that thing and it was not given conditionally. She sent me a box or sercies I’d given her that she could have easily thrown in the garbage. What a fuck face.–like she took the time, energy, and money to mail me garbage. Crazy. Anyway, this is still my year, and maybe it is the year to end my attachment disorder. That’s a great goal.

Im really enjoying my ancient Scandinavian-influenced hairstyle and have gotten quite addicted to razoring the back of my head. It feels delightful. I also started treating myself to a weekly bath. Bubble trouble.

My professor buddy is sick and probably not going to make it here this weekend, which sucks because i took the whole thing off and it is high season BUT i have my two best buddies from 1st grade coming through so it isn’t a bust. I was gonna make my professor buddy a turnip turnover (turnipover?) but they wouldn’ta been able to eat it even if they were here. They have been sick for three fucking weeks now, and i gave them cold sores so everything is compounded. I was full disclosure right off the bat, back in august and i wan’t showing any symptoms when we last visited, but because their immune system was compromised from a general cold, they got the herp. And they got it badly. I was gonna go up there and take care of them, but they were like, “hey, uh-uh, i look a mess and i do not even want you to see me like this.” That made me sad. I want them to come here so they can be motivated to go (read: taken) to the doctor–like, denial and gender stuff will keep the smartest person out of the dr’s office, i get it. Ugh.

And then my mom who hasn’t apologized for the last shitty thing she did to me wants to know when im free this weekend. Technically all of it, but im not giving her that. Those people take too much out of me. That makes me sad. But I’m less sad about it than i am ecstatic that i don’t have as much of that energy suck going on.

Oh, and i met a sweet+hot+emotionally available therapist momdog rugby yoga person who works with kids aging out of foster care. Crushhhhhh.

Last Week

So last thursday, the drug dealer dropped by the house and it had fallen on me to meet with her because work schedules and stuff. Well, this person is chronically late and flakey, but GEEZ, an hour late and i have to get out of the house to put on a presentation, and im like, “hey, where are ya,? Gotta go!” I mean, for 300 bucks i can show up somewhere on time. The chit chat bullshit surrounding these types of relationships always bothers me. I am not a small talker, and i feel so weird being inauthentic but im totally being inauthentic when im like, oh, yeah, come hang out with us soon. Or whatever. So, anyway, she finally shows up and has less ecstasy than originally planned. That’s fine–i don’t need ALL the ecstasy and then gives me two hits of acid and then is like, “hey, im done for the day and about to start partying–want a bump?” Yes. Well, she lays out two big ol’ fat lines like she is fucking Pablo Escobar and says, “a little more than a bump, haha.” And i say, “Drug dealer, i cannot do that much cocaine. I can maybe do like half of that.” Anyway, i was like, “thanks, gotta go, we will holler at ya when we do a hang out thing soon.” But i know, most likely, i will forget to invite the drug dealer over until the next time i want drugs. I feel like their is a parallel with the relationship i have with my mother. I actually feel like maybe I have a better relationship with the drug dealer. Like, at least the drug dealer doesn’t constantly remind me that im not a doctor, not a lawyer and that my sink is dirty. I told my therapist yesterday not to worry about waiting on my mother to schedule a joint appointment and that even if she wanted to, im not sure im into at this point. I feel sad about my mom not wanting to accept and cherish the person i am and that she is so effing disappointed in me. I also feel angry about those things. My therapist reminded me i have many other sources of affirmation, and i am trying to focus on those–what i have–rather than what is lacking. Le sigh.