past the bathroom into the meadow

For a while I've been seeing a therapist. She pokes and peeks and prods and looks for stuff I've tucked away. Most of what she's looking for is the stuff I have either forgotten about or buried under layers of distorted memories, shame, remorse and the usual psychohooha that mindful prospectors like her pick up, roll around in their hands and toss to the side - the stuff I think is potentially valuable! Of course these are the little treasures I have carefully constructed, albeit somewhat unconsciously, to distract me from, well me. My therapist stumbled across a vein today, I'm not 100% sure how she found it, perhaps she wasn't so sure either, but she persistently scraped away the debris confident that there was an authentic relic within reach. We trudged into the dark and hit a wall. I wasn't afraid of the dark just didn't see beyond, but damned if she didn't hand me a pick and patiently waited for me to bust through. When I finally got through we were in in my blue tiled bathroom on Hillcrest? Huh? I ruminated about what had brought me to Tallahassee and that blue bathroom...what I had lost or given away to arrive in this tiny tiled room...finally ending up on that day I got sober. Only this time instead of flushing pot down the toilet I flushed my fear of success. Don't judge I'm still a little uncomfortable acknowledging that I have this fear. Anyway, we left the little bathroom and went out to the parking lot of the building. When I first walked out the door there were cars and even the U-Haul from when I moved...then poof they were gone. So there we were standing in fromt of Hillcrest and I said we could go left or right but the school was in front over the fence and then there was a wall. Guess which way we went? Through the wall of course (note that given the option a therapist will always make you go through the wall!) and I swear this is true there was a meadow through the wall! One of those dreamy lush rolling meadows with wild flowers and a tree on the hill.

The point to all this is that sometime there is going to be a wall, it might be literal or metaphorical, but either way, I believe, if you're looking for answers that is, you're going to end up there...at the wall. Go ahead, go through it...don't worry if you end up in the blue tiled bathroom, cuz after you flush the toilet you can go to the pretty meadow.

not today

Overall I consider myself a pretty chill guy. I have plenty of faults and a generous amount of great attributes. I struggle more than some people and coast more than others. But every once in a while for what seems no apparent reason I just want to say fuck off! Not to life or any one in particular, well sometimes it's someone special (like this time)...but every once in a rare moment I just wanna say fuck off! When I find myself in that moment I don't always know it, just little telltale signs start to surface and I catch myself being unreasonably short or even rude. Maybe not short or rude by your standards but by mine. I found myself there today, and it took me like three or seven hours to figure out what lit the match...the fuckin IRS. I have some small ( I mean like minor...like less than $1000) problems from like 8 years ago and the IRS, as it can't seem to hit up the 1% for their errors, go after little guys like me...fuck I make like nothing and I take care of my mother and they're taking like more than half of my pay trying to get my attention. Yes, dumb ass, I'm listening! The thing that makes me the most irritable is that I know that it is a situation that I ought to have dealt with, well, like 8 yars ago...but still...it corks me!

wandering

It seems, sometimes, that life is not quite as complicated as I make it. I don't think I am unique in this regard.  I overthink and analyze circumstances presented making them seem much more complex than they are.

Rationally there are perhaps infinte choices regarding most aspects I stand before, but if I listen to that "inner voice", ya know the one...that gut feeling about right or wrong...I suspect most decisions are not too hard. Fear can paralyze me when I try to decide which of those choices will provide the easiest outcome or more accurately...the least amount of work or conflict.

...What if???... becomes the mainstay during those moments....what if... I decide to do "this" and xyz happens, or so & so thinks less of me, or...well you get the picture. Meanwhile, the opportunity for real choice evaporates and I'm left with a default choice (usually a choice made for me from lack of my non-choosing) which invariably leads to... "if only"... !!

All this leads to two things...(1) resent or regret over missed opportunity
                                              (2) fear of future opportunity. - future opportunity = a new choice!

hmmmm....regret or fear? Not much of a way to live, is it?