Spring in Gregory

I will hear me and I am worthy

if i hear me i honor my worthiness.

i have hauled out all of my journals. divided them by decade and looked through some. i have been doing the same work for a long time, saying and thinking and feeling the same feelings for years. struggle upon struggle. it has been a journey and i will try to not judge myself for how long it has taken me to get to where i am today.

i have been making conscious attempts to calm down and not overact or go to the negative place or immediately think something bad has or will happen. trying to find safety of self without thinking the whole world is against me or out to get me. those are old feelings from a time and place when i was abused. i am no longer abused except for the abuse i lay on myself when i don't take care of myself.

by practicing gratitude i can honor what Liz  lost by taking her own life.

the work on the dyke march has lifted me. because it is soulful work and reconnecting with people who know me has been very good. reminds me of how important my activism is.

i have not given myself moments of joy or happiness or play. i have been on alert on guard at a my post looking for what or who might want to get me and hurt me. also old feelings. never take vacations.

say i don't have the time or money or whats the point. but now i think it was i didn't believe i deserved a vacation it was too selfish and i so identified with my work that i just keep working.afraid to go away and leave myself exposed, that what would they think if they only knew shit.

why did i not hear myself why did i not walk away from mag when i was telling myself to walk away? everyone was so happy for me. i took that as they r all so worried about me being alone and want more for me. ok but not this woman ...because i was lonely and the attention made me feel wanted after maggie's rejection...because I heard Dalton in a way where i was trying to please her because i want her to like me..i gotta get rid of that. i shouldn't care whether or not the therapist likes me i am not there to please her but to heal myself. 

moving forward

3/16/2015


working out, lower sugars

and shifting in my view feelings of self making me anxious. choosing courage over comfort trying to sit with anxiety and gain knowledge from it.

I will hear me. my gut told me to walk away from mag. I ignored that. Next I will hear me.

working on a tattoo to remember this moment in my life when i have chosen to rewrite my story and raise my voice...

Ali and all that I miss so much

3/12/2015

I miss being surrounded by dykes. Surrounded and part of a tribe, experiencing a sense of belonging. Last night I captured that for a brief amount of time and I was so charged by it, I could not sleep when I got home. Accomplished a bunch of stuff I had been avoiding. Felt inspired.

Yesterday Dalton told me she has always hoped I would write a book about my life. I have always wanted to do that. But I stop myself after the dreaming. I imagine it, see it and hope that others can know they are not alone.

I remember my first trip to lesbian archives in Brooklyn and how rummaging through boxes and finding myself in the faces and lives of others and how it elevated me, moved me, inspired me. Thank you Joan Nestle.

Ali Liebegott spoke last night at EMU and it was such a kick for me to be with her. I love her. She said I moved to San Francisco to be a dyke and a writer. She did what I always dreamed of. Instead I stayed put where I was planted and embraced my own dyke community and created HAG. I miss it.

illuminate

yesterday i gave effort to illuminating my desires...

it started with changing an answer. i always have said i would never kill myself because of what it would do to my daughter. true. but also i would not do it because i have worked so hard for so long to heal my traumas. because of my many close friendships that have sustained me for years. because in my darkest moments i have always found a way to reach out and continue. i wouldn't do it because i am resilient. in some fortunate way i have a combination of strength, and bravery that acts like a rudder and propels me forward into my days. i still believe i can find joy beyond a bag of potato chips and a joint. i wouldn't do it because i have had the chances and turned away.

i know
that practicing gratitude will honor what Liz lost by killing herself.
that she had every right to end her suffering.

that i have things i want to do
that i have a new story to write
that if i can learn to be vulnerable the words for the new story will come

Of note...

I have to say that I am shocked. Shocked at what I have forgotten or cannot remember that I did or what I was to have done and didn't. Then like a tidal wave it comes rushing to the front of your brain and you freeze. Or you see something on your calendar and have absolutely NO memory of having actually attended the meeting. Panic. I panic. Like how could I phucking forget that? I used to be the one with the long memory. Not anymore.

I am missing Mag. That surprises me, but I am also remembering more of her as she was at the beginning, or rather how we were together. It was very nice for a minute. The truth is I was never completely comfortable with her. I resisted her. I didn't find her incredibly sexually attractive. There was some sort of weirdness with her that I have not yet completely resolved or understood. I think she lied about our first night together. Why did I not pay attention to that?

Tell Dalton (therapist) the obvious which you are not telling her.

I am very upset about Keck's suicide.  I keep crying.  I keep seeing her in her kitchen. She has the gun in her hand and she is pointing it at her own heart. And she is so very unhappy and scared. And I get so freaked as I imagine her pulling it, because she did. I wonder about the care takers and what they ignored or failed to see. I wonder about her meds. Who was watching her?  And then I get scared for me, because we have so much in common. Liz killed herself and she had ptsd, so do I. She was 60 and she did it. So never too old to commit suicide.

feel like crap

and i must like it that way. I'm  on a binge, a classic, giant, old school ice cream potato chip hamburger and fries, snickers bars food binge. Very old behavior. And a roll me another joint wake and bake pot binge. It feels horribly wonderful.  Sipping coffee and smoked my first joint. I have put on 12 pounds in two weeks. and today is Sunday and  no work. Today I'm down to my last joint. Thank goodness. Today I return to the land of the present.

The present, where Liz Keck no longer lives because she killed herself. Shot herself in the heart. So very sad. PTSD sufferer. I understand. You just don't want to feel anything anymore. Liz talked about how scared she was, she worried a lot about money, felt very alone.  We had a ton of fun together, we played and played the silliest games but we had a ton of fun. Keck was sweet and kind. But then Julie died and we all changed. Death changes everything. Keck began to run hot and cold, and she struggled, really struggled with the challenges of her life...this is what can happen, in an easy minute after years of pain and remorse. You just decide and then you pull the trigger and kill the pain.

I must unburden myself of my own sorrow, It saps all my energy all my best vibes and blackens them into self harm like now. Sugar out of control, stiff and sore from no exercise, fat. Yesterday I ate a whole bag of mini snickers bars.

Back to Brene Brown...i  have kept myself alive by friendship and connections.I have kept myself alive journal-ing and writing and creating and always seeking the larger kinder truth.

Going to get me some of that today.