Let go.

I have no ring of my own to throw, but I still think tomorrow I will be able to return to the Slough to say thanks and leave a few things behind.

The heart that beat so fiercely on the outside of her shirt...

I'll be going home to Portland soon.

I just got this message from one of my friends:

Then maybe I can tell you what I've been wanting to tell you. I was afraid of being annoying, or trite, or precious, or shallow.

My students and I have been studying Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey. How the hero is sometimes unwillingly called to a great change from her life, and then put through trial after trial. The most difficult stage is the Abyss, when all hope seems to be lost, when the hero faces the worst of her fears. I was reading your posts from a few days ago and thinking about how you were in the abyss, and hoping that what is true for the Hero's Journey would also be true for you: that what follows the Abyss is the Gift, the return home with a great learning about one's self and one's personal power. The hero is transformed, and through their transformation, they transform their world.

All of my blessings to you, dear Chris. May you already be in the process of finding your gift, after these terrible months of trials. You are my hero.

Don't waste another second.

He used to tell me that I was everything he wanted to be. And because I'm a fool, I believed him.

The CNA came today. I held J's hand and helped with her bath, and J cracked us all up the entire time:

CNA:  I'm gonna give you a bath now, J. I'm gonna start with your face and then work my way down.
J:  Not on me you ain't.

CNA:  Okay, J. Now I'm gonna wash your dupa [butt -- haven't heard that word in YEARS!].
J:  Okay. And I'm gonna punch you in the mouth.

CNA:  You're doing really good, J.
J:  I hate to bring it up, but you're doing really shitty.

I honestly thought I was going to bust a corpuscle from laughing.

Never bring me back to Earth again. Let me blaze a trail of glory across the sky.

What a strange flight. I was hardly anxious at all -- mind you, I was on Xanax. But the last time I flew, it was like it didn't even put a dent in my fear.

What I do is take the Xanax just before boarding and then pray until we reach 10,000 feet and I can fire up my iPod. Then I put my Dr. G insomnia self-hypnosis track on repeat and force myself into unconsciousness for as long as I can.

The first time (in 20 years) that I flew in June was pretty surreal. I don't know if it was because I had never taken tranquilizers before, but I was out like a light for the entire flight. I'd drift back to consciousness every once in a while, but it really felt like the whole flight was about 10 minutes long. However, the more I fly, the harder it is to stay unconscious. Yesterday I eventually gave up on self-hypnosis and listened to Lauryn Hill for the last hour of the flight. However, when I did sleep it was deep enough for me to dream: I dreamt that the pilot botched the first landing attempt, except it wasn't really a botch -- he jack-knifed intentionally in order to get up more speed for Dolphin Olympics. Thanks a lot, Kiki.

Yesterday was pretty hard. J slept the whole day. I didn't move from her bedside all day, hoping she would wake up and see me. I laid awake very late last night with my regrets squeezing my heart.

However, I woke up this morning and heard L talking to J. I jumped out of bed and ran into her bedroom (I'm sleeping on a mattress on the floor outside of her door). Her hospital bed was in the up position, and she looked right at me. Then she started pointing her finger and counting the people in the room. When she got to me, she said, "Now who is that?" L said, "It's Chrissy!" and J went "CHRISSY!!" I ran over and gave her a hug and a kiss, and she grabbed onto my hand and didn't let go for almost an hour.

L and B had to go out and run some errands, so I was alone with J for several hours today. She woke up enough to take her medication, and she drank a big glass of milk.

L just came in and said, "Hey, Ma!" and J said, "What!" and L said, "I love you," and J looked at me and smiled and patted my head.

I am so glad to be here.

I'm going back to Chicago. J is asking for me.

Dilate

Life used to be life-like
Now it's more like showbiz
I wake up in the night
And I don't know where the bathroom is
And I don't know what town I'm in
Or what sky I am under
And I wake up in the darkness and I
Don't have the will anymore to wonder
Everyone has a skeleton
And a closet to keep it in
And you're mine
Every song has a you
A you that the singer sings to
And you're it this time
Baby, you're it this time

When I need to wipe my face
I use the back of my hand
And I like to take up space
Just because I can
And I use my dress
To wipe up my drink
I care less and less
What people think
And you are so lame
You always disappoint me
It's kind of like our running joke
But it's really not funny
And I just want you to live up to
The image of you I create
I see you and I'm so unsatisfied
I see you and I dilate

So I'll walk the plank
And I'll jump with a smile
If I'm gonna go down
I'm gonna do it with style
And you won't see me surrender
You won't hear me confess
'Cause you've left me with nothing
But I've worked with less
And I learn every room long enough
To make it to the door
And then I hear it click shut behind me
And every key works differently
I forget every time
And forgetting defines me
That's what defines me

When I say you sucked my brain out
The English translation is I am in love with you
And it is no fun
But I don't use words like love
'Cause words like that don't matter
But don't look so offended
You know, you should be flattered
And I wake up in the night
In some big hotel bed
And my hands grope for the light
And my hands grope for my head
The world is my oyster
The road is my home
And I know that I'm better
Off alone

Heart palpitations + no health insurance = anxiety

Bought the whole world for the price of your soul

Well, Spooky is staying at the hospital over the weekend for IV fluids and lab tests. She ate her dinner last night, but I heard her throw up at about 5:30 this morning. When she vomited again at 6:00, I woke Kiki up so we could give her 150 mL of Ringers. When she didn't want to eat her breakfast, I took her in to the vet. She's so old and frail that I didn't want to take any chances.

She's lost another pound since August. The vet suggested leaving her for two days so we can get her hydrated again and see how her kidneys are doing. She printed out an estimate, and when I got home my first paycheck was waiting in the mail. It's not even enough money to keep Spooky alive for the weekend.

Pretty soon my credit card will be maxed out again, and after that I will watch my animals die of things that most likely could have been treated. They're all so old; they're not sick or unhealthy, just old and in need of maintenance. It doesn't take much, but it's still more than I've been left with, more than I can bring in. I don't get paid by the hour; I get paid by the line, and when the work is dried up, I don't get paid.

When I left the vet, I sat in the car and cried for 10 minutes. I feel like I'm being judged whenever I go in there, like the doc thinks I'm a bad person for having too many animals than I can afford. I haven't told anyone that he abandoned us, that our household income dropped to $12,000 literally overnight with absolutely zero warning. It doesn't change anything. I still have to pay these bills somehow. Still...I didn't know. I didn't know. How could I prepare? I didn't know this was going to happen. I never believed something like this could ever happen.

What am I supposed to do? Let them die? Abandon them all for someone else to take care of? They're my responsibility, and I love them. I'll find a way.

Stupid work.

Why does it always have to be warts?