I'm in a glass case of emotion!

Brian is home. I really missed him. He's 21 now! We're going to get tattoos and go out for drinks and hopefully, you know, actually spend time together. Usually when he's home I see him for 20 minutes and he's with his friends the rest of the time. Family dinner tomorrow!

I've had an off week, I think. I'm thinking in fragmented sentences. It's 2h30am and I have to be at the aud in 6 hours.

it doesn't feel like Christmas.

Despite the fact that I've been working a Christmas cabaret show for the last 3 weeks, it doesn't feel like December, let alone the week before Christmas. I haven't done any shopping. I haven't put up decorations (save at work). I ordered Sam's gift, I'll be painting my parent's kitchen as their gift, and I got fabric to make my mom an apron, and that's it! Basically, this has been a $30 Christmas. While I don't have a consistent job right now, I feel like I should be spending/giving/donating more of my money...because I have some and I can do that.

I do have Christmas cards, however I feel disinclined to send them out. Hrm.

Trevor was here yesterday! It was really good to see him for a few hours.
It was also good to spend time with Rex at 4th last night.
Next Friday I have plans with Hoe!
People I need to call: AL, KJ, Mikey, Caitlin

this post is nowhere near complete

By this point, you or someone you know has probably posted a link to Dan Pearce's "I'm Christian, unless you're gay" blog post somewhere. If not, you should read it - especially if you're my father. If I recall correctly, I've said something similar to my dad before, and his response has been something to the effect of "Just because I love them doesn't mean I have to condone their lifestyle." That's actually something I agree with whole-heartedly. Just because I love the women who sell themselves for sex doesn't mean I don't think that prostitution is demeaning and that they can, in all likelihood, do infinitely better for themselves. The thing about my dad's relationship with homosexuality, however, is that while he'll be perfectly nice to your face, he'll say hateful things behind your back and post those comments all over his Facebook page. But let's get a bit closer to the point.

I used to attend a church on my college campus. Last year, the pastor there was doing a sermon on doubt and, knowing full well that I'm not a Christian, she asked me to write a slam poetry piece on the subject to perform during the service. The poem only took a few minutes to write, but it was really personal and surprisingly well-received. I'll give you some snippets:

"...now, I'm not anti-Christianity
I'm anti-Christian
anti-self-righteous evangelists like my father who say I'm going to hell because I believe in homosexual marriage and in Allah and Buddha and karma and nature and the power of thought over the power of prayer...

...how many times have I driven past one of the homeless men who frequent the I-94 exit at Sprinkle Road wishing I had some food in my car to give them, only to forget about it the next day and lather, rinse, repeat until it's too cold out for them to walk there from the shelter downtown and I've missed my chance to prove to myself how much I love people even though I judge them when they spell Hungary like the country and not like the feeling in the bottom of your heart when something is missing...

...but as much as I love people, I find it hard to put my trust in those who have to use someone else's words to explain themselves
those who can quote scripture verbatim but can't put 10, 20, 30 words from their own mind together to tell me what they really think and feel
because I find that sitting around trying to be pious and living vicariously through the Bible to be a pitiful way to live...

...but look, here I am spewing ignorant, self-righteous bull shit just like those I said I was against.
you ask me if I believe in the god created by the words of men and I say no, I believe in the men created in the thoughts of Earth."

We all have certain levels of abhorrence toward different kinds of people. For my dad, I think it's mostly homosexuals, non-Christians, and Democrats. For me, it's people like him. I realize that it's counter-productive and hypocritical, but it's the truth.

One of the reactions to expressed opinions that really gets under my skin is "oh, well, you're only such-and-such age, you can't possibly have any kind of life experience or know enough about anything to have a well-informed, intelligent thought on the subject." Ok, yea, I'll concede that this is sometimes a correct assessment, but we've all been guilty of talking out our asses at some point, regardless of age or level of intelligence. To those who think that young people don't (or can't) have well thought-out opinions, try them. Try us. We might surprise you. And to all of the young people who can't (or don't) differentiate between your/you're, then/than, and their/there/they're, open a book. You're the reason other generations think we're unintelligent.

But hey, I'm only 23. What do I know?

turkey day

Dear Uncles,

I love you, but you still make me a twinge uncomfortable when you spend Thanksgiving dinner making penis jokes.

Love,
Carrie

muddy blues you can't refuse

The Cowpie Blues Festival does wonderful things to my soul. These guys were there. So was my cousin Josh (Motor City Josh and the Big 3). The ground was muddy, the air was cold, and I feel so fantastically chill. mmmmmmmmmmmm

Incredulous.

I don't have words to accurately express how I feel about knowing the girl who has my life. She is a tiny, adorable, motivated girl who is going to do fabulous things with her life - and I kind of want to punch her.

I'm in one of those weird moods right now where I can't figure out exactly what I'm feeling. I'm frustrated with my inability to force followthrough, I'm lonely, my social anxiety is climbing, my body hurts...and I'm a whiner baby. I think I'm over having a mental illness. It was a relief for a while, you know? Just to know that there is (isn't?) a method to the madness.

Yea, I'm definitely over it. I don't think I want to deal with bipolar for the next 60 years. Have we found a cure yet? Haha

I had an interesting conversation with my cousin the other night. He was complaining about his dad/family and how they treat him, and I wasn't going to say anything but I saw so much of my relationship with my mom in the situation that I had to. I actually surprised myself! I explained that from the outside it seems like they are both acting like children and that my cousin is different from the rest of his siblings and wont be treated the same way they are.

It's difficult to not expect our parents to be good at parenting...because sometimes they're just not.

"you look like a man in need of a nook"

I'm feeling a tad odd this evening. Possibly a mixture of sleep deprivation, excitement and anxiety for the coming weekend, and just weird emotion-y stuff.

I saw a baby this past weekend. He got his head crossed with blessed water and didn't cry at all...and then we ate a lot of food. so, for the two people who may periodically read this blog, here is a photo of my "nephew" that you may or may not have already seen on Facebook:

Yep, goofy picture. But I like it. Because I took it. Schblaaaarrgh. Good night.

friends/rant

I've realized that I have no friends and it's my fault. and by "no", I mean "very few". I alienate myself when I'm depressed or overly anxious, like last fall when I pretty much bailed on all of my friends at Wesley. which really the only one I was close to is/was Katie. my other Wesley peeps have all moved to other cities anyway.

which brings me to loving the Brophys. Those boys are absolutely spectacular. I think Jason and I are starting to become closer, which seemed a bit odd to me at first, because I was sweet on him for so long, but it's really nice. it seems like we're just now realizing how much we have in common besides being goofy and just a little off, haha.

I miss Sam. She gets home on Monday though, which is amazing. it's just hard sometimes, because she tends to do the same thing as my mom - I'm not sure either of them can tell when I want their opinion/input versus when I just need them to listen. seriously though, Sam is hands down the best friend I have ever had. Thinking about all these other people I've called my "best friend" in the last 20 years and the only person who can even touch her is Mikey...and those are two different kinds of relationships so I shouldn't compare. I'll probably be fucked when we end up living in different states and, you know, having lives outside of Kzoo. I think that's why people get married. consistancy. they don't have to move across the country by themselves. they don't have to live by themselves. they don't even have to shower by themselves if they don't want to.

I think it's kinda weak though, you know? how can you learn about yourself if you've never been by yourself?

mini rant.

...it looks like muddy water and tastes like turpentine

can I just say that my little brother is by far one of the bravest and most badass people I have even met? good, because I just did.

when I fist started have issues with depression when I was 18, I would come home and cry to my parents. my mother, being the unfeeling creature that she is, had no idea what to do, and of course did and said all the wrong things. it's not her fault, she was just ignorant of the situation. the next time I entered a major depressive episode, I avoided my parents - well, my mom at least. and this past fall (episode #3) I pretty much avoided both of them.

my brother is having similar issues, and I think it took him a lot less time to realize that our mother is terrible at dealing with negative things. he called me today and we talked for 45 minutes because he wanted to know how I have felt and compare it to what he is feeling in order to paint a more complete picture for his doctor tomorrow. it is really starting to amaze me how alike he and I are. I don't mean likes and dislikes, but more fundamental character traits. For example, we are both happier when we are 100% in control, we are both very self-aware, we just...are finally starting to understand each other.

he is far braver than I, to be able to go through this while he is in the military and on the other side of the country.

cardinal directions

this week was awful.

I feel like I have no words anymore, you know? like everything I have ever said is the summation of everything I ever will say. I'm never going to learn much more than I already know and I'm not going to grow any more. my mind is freezing as my body gets older. I will fight it.

Thursday I went to see my shrink for a med check. SURPRISE! I'm bipolar. it's not really a surprise, I guess - just an overwhelming explanation for the last few years of my life. over the last two days a desire to apologize to everyone has been building up in my head. an "I'm sorry if I flaked/freaked out/fucked up somehow and here's why" kind of deal. but I just keep telling myself that being bipolar is a reason, not an excuse. massive difference. and if I'm bipolar, then I'm going to try and embrace it, because any other course of action would quite possibly be even more detrimental to my mental health.

I talked to my mom on the phone for a little while yesterday and she was asking me all kinda of questions about being bipolar. somehow we ended up on the topic of my weight - apparently she didn't know that when I was 17 and looked really thin that she used to tell me I looked too skinny and I needed to eat something nearly every day, and that it got to the point where I didn't even want to look in the mirror. She kept denying it, saying that she never had a big concern about my weight except once in the 6th grade when I lost weight because I was overextended. I sent her a message on Facebook with a link attached to some information on bipolar II, and this is the message I got back from her this morning:

"Thanks for the info. Guess I really haven't spent much time around you in the last 4 years or so. I've seen the depression but not mania. Things like overspending and pretentiousness? Anyway, got to thinking about your comments on weight when you were a teen. Dad and I did go through a period of time when we were concerned about you having an eating disorder. Didn't realize it carried over into my interactions w/you. You have probably noticed I don't really have comforting words when it comes to bad things in a person's life. Just not good w/that stuff; even for my own children. Its hard being imperfect and not wanting to be. Let me know how I can support you. I just know there are plenty of people out there w/bipolar that are having great lives. I know a couple. I always think of you as strong enough to handle what life throws at you, but if you need something, please ask."

 It hasn't been until recently that I am finding out just how highly my mother thinks of me.

I always hoped my life wouldn't be this kind of hard. I need a compass.

Invader Zim

Here's the thing about being a grown up: it kinda sucks.

Yea, you get to do cool stuff...exactly what those cool things are I don't know. Every cool thing I can think of that I currently take part in I've been doing for 5+ years - knitting, singing, theatre, photo shoots, hanging out with friends, driving. But being a grown up is just a lot of bull shit. You're expected to work to pay all kinds of seemingly unnecessary bills, to have certain things, to be a certain way to "get by". If all people are trying to do it "get by", then what's the point of being alive? Here's what I think: If you're alive, you must be passionate about something. I don't care what it is. I can give you a list of things I'm passionate about. Will they support me? Only if I can make a living knitting and people watching.

I found this (well, ok, Stumble found it for me on this blog), and besides being a fantastic photo, I love what it says.

"To make money we loose our health,
and then to restore our health we loose our money...
we live as if we are never going to die,
and we die as if we never lived."

I have a lot of issues with my mother. We're not close, and I'm fine with that. We judge each other more harshly then either of us judges anyone else because neither of us actually is who we want each other to be. I've accepted that, and I think she has, too. Here's a secret my mom (read: family) would disown me for: I dropped out of college. I've told my parents, grandparents, roommates...pretty much everyone that I'm going to graduate in December when that's complete bull shit. So I don't have a degree...big deal! I don't need one, nor do I want one. What good is it really going to do me? College makes me miserable, I don't need one to be a photographer or to support myself, so what's the point, really? Having a degree will not make me happy.

I recently bought myself my first piece of "big girl" furniture - a desk! I haven't had a desk since I was probably 14, and I'm enjoying having it. I'm enjoying having a place for things, for having a piece of "real" furniture, and I'm enjoying the fact that I earned the money and could spend $300 on a desk. I'm not, however, enjoying my job. Oh look, I'm right up there with most Americans! It kind of bothers me when people babble on about how unique they are, because in all honesty, you're not. You're not special, you have no unique thoughts...sorry to burst your bubble. I know, I'm being cynical. Just because you're not one-of-a-kind doesn't mean you're not fabulous, it just means that you should stop being an ass.

So as I sit here watching Invader Zim and remembering how much I used to love this cartoon while I was in high school, I can't help but think about selling all of my possessions and moving to the middle of nowhere to become a potato farmer. Or maybe taking my friend up on staying with him for a while.

At least I get to wear jeans to work tomorrow. It's the little things.