A Window of Freedom

The cats are bored because I haven't opened their window yet. But the dog is quite content, just as we are. Ratty, the cat leader, meows at the window in frustration. His day is just beginning.

Maybe yours is, too. I brew my coffee and enjoy the water, while I wait. I have good plans for today, and will eat my breakfast and take the anti-Evil pills that most of us take. Yesterday, in this small corner of the world, it was almost like fall.

The zinnia and begonia still bloom, pink and dark, and orange. The wasps build a nest, and the pool is a pond this year. I saw a bird eat a cricket, who protested loudly over the whole ordeal. It sounds like fall but there is all of August to go in summer. We will see, what we will see.

I need my coffee. My dog is an asshole, and he loves me. He chomps on people's hands, and chases the unicorn meat eating cats in a leisurely way. He farts sometimes, but he is affectionate.

I have relented and opened the window of freedom. Now the cats leap in and out, and one runs in, crispy from the night air. It is a delicious time of year, this year.

I had a melt down yesterday, a combo of stressors came together perfectly, to hit me like a two by four. This, on top of other storms, have left me exhausted, and have my support network straining at the seams. I try to lighten the load on my network during these storms, try to take the brunt of the force myself. I try to use the skills I have learned in therapy, and in desperation, will lock myself into my apartment so that I do not go crazy in public.

There are internet and phone connections, and I use them relentlessly, when I am on a tear. That's what I mean by straining the support network. I called a good friend at 5 AM yesterday, sobbing wildly because I couldn't sleep. I have lost friends like that. A good walk would help, but there are times I can not leave the apartment.

It's all a balancing act. I did not drink or cut, although I wanted to. Desperately. All I have to do today, is make it through today. It's not bravery on my part to make it through. When I go to pieces like that, the only thing that stands between me and picking up or cutting, is contact, sometimes human, and sometimes not. It is a struggle that makes me more ready for the next storm, and the next, but it costs. It costs friends and time off of my lifespan. It has cost me my income, and a lovely home. It has cost me jail time. It has cost me some of my character and my values. It is rapacious.

It has given me some creativity and some topics of interest. It has give me a service animal and some cats. I have a rare appreciation for the every day things of life, of the ordinaryness of it all, and how lovely that can be. I have a forest and a field. I have some of the most amazing friends; if they can live through a melt down, they are golden.

I have been prayed over, resuscitated, lost, screwed royally, hired, fired, abused, taught, medicated, and found. I am here, now, on my everyday page, with a life too big for me, and a mind too chaotic to handle.

I am imprisoned by some of you and set free by some of you.

I have a lovely window of freedom today, if the breeze keeps up, and the flowers keep their blooms. I have this still night to talk to you. We have a fall waiting, with it's lemony light drifting like petals on the leaves. The grass still holds grasshoppers, and birds wait.

There is a measure of peace in this small corner of the world, while outside the big storms blow. It is a sheltered little valley, with it's own small clime. Sometimes the hurricanes intrude, but mainly the sunlight falls, and the rain. The grass is green, and there are flowers. Waters reflect and the darkest of forests is relieved by the movement of leaves.