First Steps

Sometimes, just when I think I have things figured out and under some sort of control, things smash and break. And just when I think I know myself, that I understand myself, I realize I don't know myself as much as I thought. The past month has been an intense personal experience. And when I had the opportunity to step up and be the person I want to be, I took the complete opposite approach and now there is just a lot of emotional debris around.

I have written a little here about my life growing up, being told I was nothing and nobody and that I wuld never be anything and nobody would ever love me. As an adult, I ran from that and tried to distance myself from it in every way possible. I dove into therapy, books, teachings, meditation, travel and anything that would help me improve myself. The past month, I have really been dealing with the concept of letting go and letting things be what they will. The problem with that is, that I was focused on letting go of what was happening right now, today. I didn't realize how tightly I was and am holding onto the past. I didn't realize how much I still buy into or believe those things about myself even though I “know” things to be otherwise.

This morning, I was having a conversation with someone who reminded me that the past is in the past. I say it is and it isn't. In time it is, but inside me, it isn't so far away. I guess it has been such a big part of my identity for so long that to let it go would be like leaving behind an arm or a leg. I am not sure I know who I am without it. But what I do know, is who I am with it, and that person is not who I want to be. That is a person that hurts people. That says things he knows will cut someone off at the legs. That person is someone who destroys the very things he wants, and worse, he does it on purpose.

So now, I need to focus on letting go of the past. I just don't know how to do it. I have tried ignoring it. I've tried running from it, controlling it, taking about it, writing about it, but still, it is there. I don't want it anymore. I really don't want it anymore. I want to look in the mirror and see myself as I am, with no judgment, no dislike, no hate and no anger. I want to see the person the people who are important to me see. I want to see the person they talk about when they talk about me. I see glimpses of him, but I don't see him.

When Rich died, I thought it would be over, but that seems to have intensified my thoughts. He is no longer here, has not been a part of my actual life for over twenty years, and still, I give him the power and the control. And if I am honest, I do it willingly even though I know it is the wrong thing. I don't know how to really let him go. I don't know how to truly and permanently leave things in the past. I know I can never forget, but how can I make them mere memories instead of letting them have an active part in my life?

I can't play the victim card again. I don't want to. It isn't who I want to be. When someone who knows me well can look at me and tell me they don't know me at all, that is beyond scary. And when I look at myself in light of the past few weeks or so, I don't know who I am either. I wonder if I do and I just don't see it right now, or if I really don't and need to figure all that out. I don't want to be this Jekyll and Hyde person anymore. I just want to be the best version of me, whoever that is.

I don't know how to do it, so I will just focus on what I want and take a step. And then another.

Making Friends

I have been feeling a bit odd lately, like something has been missing and I haven't really been able to put my finger on it. Not until the past few days, at least. Now that I know, I am not really sure how to go about changing it.

When I first moved back to California, I stayed with Ken and Charise and their children. It was wonderful spending time with people that I have known so long and mean so much to me. I was only going to be in the US for two months before heading to Brazil. I spent time with them, my sister and her family and a few other friends in Colorado and San Francisco. As everyone knows, I ended up not going to Brazil and well, I now find myself in a situation that is really starting to wear me down.

I don't really have any friends here at all. I have David. I have my roommates, but aside from them, there is nobody to phone for a drink, a cup of coffee or just to chat. I didn't really realize this until David left for Burning Man, where is has been out of touch since Monday and will continue to be for a couple more days. I was with my sister for a few days, so didn't notice it, but when I came home, I realized I was alone. And, of course, having limited mobility means I can't just grab my camera and go. I hate the fact my social life is tied mainly to one person, something I really don't think is healthy for either of us. On top of that, it is making me feel isolated and alone and I really don't want it to bring me down.

I did actually get a job at the beginning of August. I went through training and broke my ankle on my first day of work. I was hoping to meet people that way but then I ended up not working. I still have a job, but the reality is I am out until at least the end of September. And we are still in August. And even then, most people live quite spread out and you only see them every once in a while when scheduled to work together.

I went online to see if there were sites to meet local people. There are, but even the ones that say they are for friendship only, end up being about sex and dating. I thought about Craigslist, but looking into the platonic section of the site, I saw that for most people, platonic means dating and “fun”, neither of which I am looking for.

Living abroad, it is super easy to make friends. Either, there are local people that love to interact with and befriend foreigners, and then there are the other foreigners that you run into everywhere and end up hanging out with. To make casual friends when abroad often takes no more effort that walking out the front door. Within a week of arriving in India, I was invited to weddings, over to people's homes for dinner and had a full social life, just like that. In Turkey, I made friends the first day there with other teachers. In Tanzania, Ulco had a little party when I went for a visit and again, I knew people. Here in the US, it is not that simple. People are in the place they are comfortable, they are not actively looking to bond with others. I don't want to hang out at bars, and hanging out at Starbucks means sitting with a bunch of people with headphones in, engaged completely with their laptops and iPads.

So now, I am trying to figure out what to do. I have looked for clubs in things I am interested in, and there is a photography club that meets once a month quite close to me, including this coming Wednesday, so I will give it a try and see how it goes.

That still leaves the next four days full of nothing and nobody. If anyone has any ideas, I am happy to hear them.  

Casting Call

Three weeks ago today, I broke my ankle. I thought the most annoying parts of the whole thing were the emergency room, the insurance hoops to jump through and adjusting to life in a cast and on crutches. But I was wrong. The most annoying part of breaking my ankle and being in a cast, is that it seems the cast compels anyone and everyone around me to tell me their broken bone story. Or that of their cousin. Former roommate. Grandparent. Next door neighbor. Serial killer who lived down the street that nobody suspected. I hear them all day long.

I hear about how old they were, how they broke it, how many places and how bad. I hear about the orthopedic specialist getting it back in place or inserting pins, bolts, screws and other hardware and how they can still feel it when the weather is bad or they step, turn or sneeze just so. I have learned more about the skeletal structure from random strangers in the last three weeks than the rest of my entire life.

I have learned about the problems with plaster casts and how I should be so happy to have a fiberglass one. And everyone has tips on how to handle the itching, something I have not yet had to deal with and hopefully it will stay that way.

I have tried headphones and dark sunglasses, but people just won't let my cast pass them by without sharing. And I already can't stand when total strangers need to share parts of their life with me. I don't care and I don't want to feel obligated to nod, agree, smile and reply. I think someone intruding into my space when I am obviously occupied with something and forcing me to engage is rude. I just want to listen to my music or read my book or have a root canal.

Maybe some people find comfort in the fact that other total strangers they would never speak with in any other circumstance now have a reason to come talk to them and share a moment of their personal history. I am not one of those people. If you have never met me, please, just let me do whatever it was I was doing before my cast inspired you to share. Feel free to include me in your personal story when sharing with another random stranger or friend later, but otherwise, I don't want to know because I honestly do not care.

On Doing Acid

Today, I did acid. I didn't mean to, it kind of just happened in the way that surfing the internet often leads to using dangerous chemicals. It wasn't planned. When I woke up this morning, I was just looking for a solution, something to help get through the day. And let me tell you, the acid worked. But not without a scary side effect and a few moments of panic.

Let me explain...

I currently live with three other people; David, J and BP. A couple of weeks ago, we received some uninvited guests in the form of drain moths. Drain moths are those little black flies that at first glance seem like fruit flies as they invade the kitchen where fruit is often kept, but then they also invade the bathroom where we don't tend to store fruit. At first, it is no big deal, a single solitary fly. And then there are hundreds. On the cabinets, the counter, the dishes and toothbrushes. We have tried to get rid of them, but to no avail and this morning just before leaving for the day, David says he is going to look online to see how to get rid of them. Being laid up and with not many options for action right now, I volunteered for the task and started my research. I learned things I never knew I was lacking and before I knew it, I had identified the culprit not as the fruit fly, but as the drain moth. Drain moths are commonly called that as they tend to breed in the drains of kitchens and sinks, feeing on the decaying flesh and slime that lines the inside of most, if not every household drain. They are annoying to get rid of, because you have to kill the eggs, and to do so is no so easy.

One solution was to use a non-toxic drain cleaner and insecticide to both get rid of the attracting scum and slime and also kill the unhatched eggs. Just as I found the solution, J yells at me to come talk to her so she can complain about the flies and I, of course, happily offer up a solution and my bank card for her to go to the corner hardware store to pick up supplies. She does just that, but instead of bringing back a biologically friendly and safe solution, she brings back something that contains sulfuric acid. The plastic bottle is wrapped in another protective bag and there are skulls and crossbones all over the label. I don't have the best feeling about. That is some serious stuff, and people on CSI have been known to use it to get rid of a body. When I mention that I said biologically or eco-friendly, she told me it was all they had and that the guy told her it would work.

Being on crutches with a questionable balance at best, I decided to leave it up to J to carefully pour the liquid in the the drains, wait fifteen minutes and then rinse thoroughly. I remind her to open all the windows and make sure the dog is secured. I also give her some sunglasses just to make sure she doesn't accidentally blind herself. I am in my room, and I can hear her shouting out random updates. “Wow, this stuff is amazing!” “Oh my God, this is really working!” “This stuff smells like rotten eggs!” That last thing she said as the unmistakable smell of sulfur wafts into my room. Then I hear her scream “Robb! Robb! Get in here now!” I have visions J melting like the witch from Wizard of Oz. What would I tell the police? Would they believe me? Would I need to give DNA? And I had no alibi except that I was in my room. Alone. That never goes over very well.

I decide to hop my way across the hall and in the bathroom, is a formerly white bathtub that has turned the color of poopy brown. My first thought was that J had poured acid all over everything, but it turns out, it was a reaction to the fumes. It looked so bad, I made the immediate decision that all future showers would be done outside, under the hose. We rinsed and rinsed, filling the bathtub and letting drain. The color lifted slightly, but not to where it made any difference. J went back to the hardware store and they gave her those magic eraser sponges. I can tell you with certainty, they don't work. At least not on bathtub stains caused by a chemical reaction to the sulphuric acid fumes. All I could think was that I did not want to buy a new bathtub, and I started thinking up all kinds of plausible excuses to give the landlords. 

We knew right away that we would need some sort of detergent, but the acid liquid is not to be mixed with any other chemical, so we filled and drained the tub. Making sure all the acid was rinsed away and then tried a tiny bit of the toilet bleach gel, the kind that sticks to the sides. We tried a tiny little spot and it worked perfectly. We filled the bathtub with water and put a little bleach in it to let it soak. That combined with a little of the gel bleach to get the higher areas and the tub looks better that it ever has.

As of now, the flies in the bathroom are gone and hopefully, they will stay that way.

Whoever said dropping a little acid couldn't be a good thing?