Little Trials

I feel alone, ugly, discarded. I try not to be horrifically selfish and criticize myself - I try to actually use the brain I have been given and think for once deeper, with more meaning, clearer, but clarity eludes me.

I feel alone. I had so many wonderful people in my life, and they've all disappeared. It was mostly my fault - leaving so suddenly, giving cause to anger, disappointment, perhaps even something more sinister. I try to explain what happened, I try to tell them about my life, but instead of finding the support I hoped to have, they only offer friendly criticism, sadness, and suggestions I never wished to hear.

I've taken to re-read all the Harry Potter books, from last to first. It has kept my mind and imagination occupied. It's interesting to read them in this order...easier to see how everything connects. I enjoy finding the subtle relationships that run from book to book. Regardless of the entertainment, I am often astounded at how well thought everything in the little world is shown to me - props to J.K. Rowling, I have always admired her style.

I've kept myself distracted and occupied with busy-work here. Alicia gave me the opportunity to decorate her office; it's been a wonderful experience. I think one of the most surprising qualities about this place are the people and the friendliness they all exude. I will miss it when I return home.

I need a massage.

Pictures...

Here's one of 3 I did for little Hannah's new bedroom.


Snow monsters...


Fairest of them all...


My fall pumpkins

Time and Changes

Fall is my favorite season. Cold air nips the remnants of summer away, turning well-sunned green leaves into the sultry, deep colors we are all familiar with. The wind brings change, forcing a reluctant spell of warmth and ease into something that requires more attention and detail. Fall weaves beauty effortlessly and reminds me change can be subtle.

I find people friendlier in fall. Is it the chilliness that draws us to cozy up to one another? Is it the general appreciation we all feel towards the wondrous things occurring around us? We dawn our little hats and gloves, smile, then idly live while the unstoppable changes happen around us.

I had a horrible dream last night. I woke up filled with stress and sadness, shaking like a leaf. People who love me, who have supplied my life with advice and comfort became critical, harsh, and disapproving, all condemning me to an eternity of suffering and penance after life. Change was unstoppable; I was helpless. I looked at my dream this morning, tried to examine what it meant. I talked it over with my sister and she clarified things for me in a way few people can. She told me that change, the decisions I "need" to make, the pressures from everyone, even from myself can be forgotten. Taking time, not acting, is equally if not more important than immediately deciding upon things. I feel criticized from everyone important in my life; I feel condemned and looked down upon. I feel hopeless.

So, unlike fall, which is an unstoppable change, a change that comes almost effortlessly, quietly, the changes that occur in my life and when I decide to act upon them can be settled on my terms - pressure on all sides can be ignored, even from myself. We're all so impatient, acting on decisions so quickly, never giving time a chance. I am in repair, a slow, painful overhaul that must happen. I must reject ideals, re-examine them, and take time to decide for myself what must be done. I must question and listen.

Give me time.

Dust

Dust - Augustana

So go on and tear it up
Black and cold with the dust
'Cause I believed in the Lord
But he don't show up anymore

If you can't trust the wind, who can you trust?
If you can't love sin, who can you love?
If I begin will you let me finish up?
If I fell down would you pick me up?
If I don't drink from a silver cup, like you,
Would you say, so long, farewell, good luck?

So go on and tear it up
Black and cold with the dust
'Cause I believed in the Lord
But he don't show up anymore

If a man can't lie, how can he speak?
If the sun don't rise, would the moon be out of reach?
If I came home, would you get down on your knees?

So go on and tear it up
Black and cold with the dust
'Cause I believed in the Lord
And he don't show up anymore
No, he don't show up, he don't show up anymore.


This song has truly spoken to me the last few weeks. Every question he asks is something I myself can relate to. I am a woman that greatly relates to music, loves to feel lyrics and study what the writer was trying to get across. This song has always been a favorite of mine, but lately it truly has been one I can believe in.

A Wonderful Ending to a Horrible Day

What a gruesome night. Arguing and fighting is unbearable, and now my mind is even more disoriented. It never helps to argue when you are tired, it's just a hindrance. I couldn't sleep. My thoughts are murky; my mouth cheerless. These are the thoughts and feelings I woke with, and for much of the day they remained.

My day was beyond trying. The morning was unbelievably hectic, my brain was addled, I bit off all my fingernails, and a very unwelcome phone call put it over the edge. I'm not ready to talk to you yet...at all. I'm not four, I haven't forgiven you yet, I'm not coming home. All my anxiety and frustration manifested itself in a very surly disposition, bleak thoughts, and one tangled mess of a stomach. Still, through all of this frustration, pain, and just pissiness, somehow the day brightened.

There are key people in my life - they love, embrace, and would do anything for me. They showed me today how loving they are, how absolutely wonderful they can be. They pulled together and did something for me out of love (and a little bit of anger, hehe), and I don't know what to say. You put a smile on my face, you love me for me, and all of you are irreplaceable. You really have no idea the impact you had on me today; you made me speechless.

I couldn't get this song out of my head today. It's from one of my favorite "feeling" bands (you know those bands you just put on when you're in some mood...this is one of them), Blindside.

Cute Boring Love

She said what I was supposed to think
Thank God for freedom
Thank God for liberation
(she said) now we are allowed to think
Now we are allowed to feel lust without cute boring love

But dont you ever just like me
Long for purity
Dont you ever
Get sick of our territories

What are you so scared of sister
What made you so afraid to feel
To chose a stone cold liberation
The one thing I hate most about me
Is the one thing you want to make your trademark
To feel lust without cute boring love

But dont you ever just like me
Long for purity
Dont you ever
Get sick of our territories
Dont you ever feel like glass
Fragile, hurting, letting it pass
Dont you think its time to trespass

But when the fire is gone
Who are you?
What are you so scared of sister?
Im just as scared as you

I do think it's time to trespass. I am sick of my old territories. I am scared, but with all of this, I am loved. Thank you for loving.

Day to Day

Day 14: Laundry day (among many other events, but this one precedes all others in my mind for some reason). Upon arrival two weeks ago, I dragged my suitcases up the stairs, dropped them on the floor, and kept them shut because I am convinced once suitcases are open, they throw up their contents upon the floor, where it will remain until everything is shoved back in again. It is inevitable - suitcases always throw up. So today, when I stepped out of my very warm, snuggly bed, onto my clothes ridden floor, I decided it was time to clean up the mess. I 'sorted' through my clothes, trying to discern what was still wearable, what wasn't, and simply converged the mess into one big pile. Might as well throw it all in the wash...

My entire body aches today with that wonderful post-workout feeling. Muscles in my back, arms, shoulders, and legs all burn - I smile. I've set certain goals, I won't be satisfied until they are met. I started my MMA (mixed martial arts) classes yesterday, and although I was incredibly intimidated walking into a very male dominated setting, I found myself relaxing quite a bit once the circuits started. It is a very small class, only three students including myself, two instructors. There is actually another woman in the class which eased my nerves considerably.

I loved the class, loved the work out and sweat that I rarely achieve (only on the toughest of work outs do I actually start to sweat. I always feel I've accomplished something great when my training causes this), but I have such a contrast of mindsets during it. In some ways, punching and kicking were such awesome ways to release suppressed anger. I realized very quickly how much anger I actually possess doing this. I kept imagining different things, hearing past conversations, seeing past events play through my mind. I became focused, driven - a madwoman. One, two, one, two, three, four, three, three! Punch, kick, punch, punch, kick the shit out of that bag, Tiffany. It works and it is so fulfilling. Still, I could not help but think I may begin to relive certain things that occurred this summer - I may freak out. I hate losing control, I hate becoming weak. I fought so hard, I kicked, I punched...this class shows me what I could have done, and it is good; it is scary. I'm scary. I really am...

I feel as though I've secluded myself, sent myself away for a time. There are few people I let in - thoughts are reluctant, talking scarce. I do not talk to many any longer...I was burned badly, criticized and reprimanded the last time I did. More like taken to the chopping block. I just don't...trust. I'm afraid.

Frustration is a companion that never leaves me. I am trying to negotiate it, cope with its effects on me, but I'm failing fast. Often, I wake to myself crying out - whether in fright, frustration, or pain, I do not really know. I'm fighting the sheets, grabbing air, battling the man who used me savagely for his own perverted will. I'm scary. I really am...

We got a puppy today - an English Cocker Spaniel. His name is Lewis and already he has captured the heart of this family. He is very quiet, very adorable. I find his simplicity exactly what I need for a distraction, his devotion exactly what I need for my emotions.



To my love: I miss you, I think of you relentlessly. You are steadfast, wonderful, and I love you. I cannot wait to be with you everyday. Think of me babe and eagerly look forward to the future - it is bright, wonderful, and unexpected.

Little Lexi

Do I not have the cutest niece ever. We had so much fun today playing with Photobooth on my Mac. I love her oodles :)

Mornings in Wyoming

Every morning that I have been here, my little niece comes into my room and wakes me - usually with some token of love, such as a kiss, or a pat on the face, or Princess Crackers (which is what she named those little gummy snacks...adorable). Despite the usual ungodly hour she decides to do this, I still find it one of the absolute best ways to wake up. Her little voice shouting, "Tiffy! Tiffy! Wake Tiffy!" is one of the warmest welcomes to wake to.

I cannot seem to find the words or thoughts I want to write today. I tried to think of a topic worth expressing some heartfelt words to - maybe my heart, maybe a flower, maybe just the beauty of this place - but it didn't feel right. I simply wish to write of the last few days, write what my plans are for the coming weeks, write to write.

It seems the days have a similar semblance around this place. I wake in the morning, either have the house completely to myself, or sometimes share it with Alicia and Alexis. On days I am alone, I usually prepare my coffee, drink it with soy, sit outside on the porch and watch the relationships of this earth play out before my eyes - the wind moves through the turning leaves, the deer find food, the golden dragonflies hover above the cattails and lay their eggs in the water. Their days have semblance too, just like mine. I often wonder if, although seemingly simplistic, their lives claim more absolute purpose than ours. They have simple goals, but they fetch them out with a ferocity that makes me stop to watch. They deserve to be looked at, modeled after; they deserve my attention.

Sometimes, I'll take my sketch book and graphite, complete quick studies of them - try to capture the beauty of their tasks. I fail at this most times, becoming too engrossed in the perfections of it, rather than the raw beauty it entails. My eyes move from deer to jackrabbits, to thistle and thorn - it is all beautiful. This place inspires me, causes me to stop and watch, and that is something irreplaceable.

I usually take the dogs for a quick walk around the pond - Sasha constantly running ahead, looking back, stopping, then returning. The pug, Bella, is much too old for running. Her steady canter is good enough pace, yet she often lags behind, finding something to sniff, or simply stopping to take a rest. I can hear her behind me wheezing; I chuckle. With each step I take, dozens of grasshoppers shy away from my boots and hop in every direction. Many hit my legs, stick to my pants or leggings, and I constantly flick them off. This place is alive - untouched by too much humanity. Nature is prevalent here, it runs rampant and I love the intensity.

I love the quiet. I can hear the wind, hear the leaves rustle in reply; I can hear my thoughts. Mornings here are soothing, they are romantic - full of life, love, and surprise. Good morning, Wyoming. You make my hurting heart feel warm.