Saturday, August 1, 2009

sleepless in san diego

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i will not be confined by my own ( mind )
i will not be confined by my own ( town )
i will not be confined by my own ( fears )
i will not be confined by my own ( past )
i will not be confined by my own ( secrets )
i will not be confined by my own ( vanity )
i will not be confined by my own ( anxieties )

i will not be confined by my own ( sex ) *


there are certain words and those words
begin with capital letters and those capital
letters signify a specific person place or thing
that is why our names are capitalized
and maybe why i have always written poems
entirely in lower case.




i will not be confined by my own ( blog )


i am awake at almost five am. i have not been to sleep. tItalichis was completely by choice. no one made me do it. i made myself do it. i let myself do it? Mr. Curry has been out of sorts the last three days and although he is out of sorts i still came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and called him in from the living room and pulled him into the hallway and demanded sex. this is one of the major benefits of marriage. of my marriage, anyway. i am a scorpio. Mr. Curry was already in his swim trunks and there were three very excited children waiting to go swimming on a Friday night but Mr. Curry still followed me into the bedroom and shut the door and smiled at me and when we went to the pool i was happier and much more relaxed than before we left for the pool.

which reminds me of trying on swimsuits last weekend. which reminds me to mention never to try on swimsuits when you are on your period, especially when your period is not really a period but a prolonged spotting that led to bleeding caused by losing our baby at thirteen weeks and so your thyroid which is already bad gets worse and your hormones are miserable and clogging up where they should be bursting and bursting where they should be showing restraint and so you are puffy and out of sorts with your body and when you try on the bikini over your underwear like a good girl you think to yourself with a shocking spite that if wal-mart cannot get better mirrors in their dressing rooms they had better not let hormonal women try on bikinis.

lola moon is lying next to me asleep. dakota and ian sleep in their room. Mr. Curry fell asleep on the couch. the air conditioner runs. the house is listening to me type with it's window eyes and vent ear and the hungry catching breaths of our dogs somewhere under the beds of teenage boys. weasley and bellatrix cried for twenty minutes tonight when we put them in the sunroom for bed because we have to because in the hour we let them in to play mr. weasley pooped twice in the corner and for his physical safety i think it's best if he and Mr. Curry are not too close.

lately i am wishing it would hurry up and be over. in my twenties i terrifically envied those women who were so stable and emotionally astute and practical that they marched on as they should regardless. i am marching on as i should and life must go on but if my body could just catch the fuck up a little i think i could stop feeling sad. this summer is beautiful and i am enjoying it and i am terribly, ( desperately ) grateful for my loved ones and my life but i feel sad all the time, even when i am laughing. like my mouth will be wide open in a huge laugh and i snort when i laugh, too, and i will notice that at the corner of my mouth there is a small trickle of sadness moving outward, and i will stop and think 'what is that?' and ' why am i sad?' and there are so many reasons possible that i have to stop and think. because my life is not easy or full of simplicity AT ALL. wow i wish it was. it's not. so i think about all the sad things and then i think about losing the baby and how pregnant i would be by now and i feel sadder and then i think 'oh'-

and then i try not to do what anne lammott talks about which i totally DO do which is let my hypochondria take over, and i think to myself even IF, even IF something IS wrong sweetie (because sometimes when i am very scared or sad i have to talk to myself like a nice mommy) you won't be spending your time wallowing in fear and despair but fighting it and moving toward health and life, so why let yourself do that NOW, when

suddenlyi think about how the last four days i am having the heaviest period ever, and how i am waiting for another round of bloodwork results to come back in ( blood count, pregnancy hormone levels, etc ) and i feel heavy in my stomach area. and tired. i'm very, very tired, all the time, no matter how much i sleep.

so tonight, i don't sleep.

tonight, i sit in my shit.

cozy.

* the author does not take responsibility for living these out to their full potential
but puts the intent out there with all sincerity



f8hasit said...

That is so powerful on so many levels...I'm at a loss for words.
Thank you,
for sharing.

Dana's Brain said...

Once again, your words effect me so much.

And I secretly think those women who seem to be able to move so smoothly through life are probably just as screwed up as I am in there own way.

The Audacity of Anna said...

You realise alot of things sitting in shit...

krista said...

there is absolutely nothing interesting or authentic about people who live in simplicity. you know why? they aren't real.

i have a strong affinity for women willing to sit in their own shit at five in the morning and take all the letters that make up their words that define their meaning and arrange them around and around in the air.

p.s. never buy a bathing suit at walmart. problem solved. :-)

All This Trouble... said...

What do you have to be sad about? That's what my husband asked the other day. Nothing and Everything, same as you. That was my answer. He works for me because he's my constant, my rock. He doesn't care what sort of graffiti I paint, he's still there-strong and steadfast and unaffected by the surface.

That one girl said...

First-never try on bikinis on your period. My friend and I just had this discussion. It's bad, bad, bad. The next day is fine. Yesterday (day after period days) I felt way skinnier. The day before, a walrus.

Second- My good friend just lost her baby at 10 weeks. I'm so sad when I hear these things. I cry for you guys. She is working so hard on being happy, to forget about it, to not question every little aspect of what she ate, stress levels, etc. I told I don't think she could just 'forget', and it's okay to be sad. I also gave her your blog address.

Keep you head up, be sad whenever you feel like it, but also laugh, and have lots of sex and prance around in bikinis... on NON period days!

mieletcannelle said...

just damn. we were up at the same time. xo

Mwa said...

You write about so many things I recognise in a way I have not seen them before.

Pregnancy loss is hard. You are not alone with it.

Elizabeth said...

sounds like you need to give yourself a break and be sad whenever you are -- that would be living simply, actually. Nothing, nothing, nothing lasts forever -- not sadness or joy. You're such a beautiful person and writer -- thank you for putting into words what so many of us feel...

Kay said...

Well, my thoughts are that you are very fortunate to have so much life around you! I think, you are living life, and love how you posted this; the ending fantastic! Choosing to sit in your own shit! We all have to, every once in a while, if we do not allow ourselves to feel what we do, think what we think and only allow ourselves to be and think what we 'should' then we lose a piece of ourselves... Hope you DO have a great weekend with the blessing you HAVE! :)

Lydia said...

You wrote an amazing stream of consciousness following the best list of intentions I have yet to read. I'll adopt some of those, if you don't mind (I don't think you;ll mind).

Scorpio. I read for a time early on in my blogging life the blog of an intense young Scorpio poet. Fortunately, I kept her in bookmarks. You might enjoy Jessica, and now that I think of her I might enjoy her again too. A portion of her blog is password protected which always made me wish for the password!

Steph said...

Maggie this is one of those posts that is so personal, and yet so very relatable. Our experiences are our own, but there are so many similarities. Thank you for putting this out there for the rest of us to connect to.

Shaista said...

You are a Muse Maggie May, you inspire me to think and write. And surely inspire all your many followers in both the blog and real worlds. It is important not to sleep some nights, and know you are keeping a Vigil over the ones you love and the ones you lost.

Harlow said...

This last month I have been having second thoughts about getting married because of that stigma that married people don't have sex...your post has reminded me that there is hope!

Bird Bath said...

they say that writing your sadness can help to lift some away...hope you found a little peace in that long night.

Love, Evolution, and Resilience said...

Holy shit! I've been MIA, and wammo hit me with some shizzle would ya! Damn Girl. I have missed you. Frig, who needs coffee when you can just go visit MAG!

Evangeline said...

"...marching on as they should regardless" I can't even fathom it. I need to rest and regroup and "sit in my own shit" sometimes. I just need to. I am glad you are giving yourself permission to go through this however you need to.

Lola said...

I don't believe anyone really marches through life's trials easily. I think some people are better actors is all.

You have to feel the sadness completely to get past it. Once the hormones are straightened out, it will be easier. Hormones are evil, evil intruders sometimes.

Get some sleep, girl!

Freida Bee, MD said...

Firstly, I am always moved by your writing.
Secondly, you don't have to make it wrong that you still feel sad.
Thirdly, thyroid problems stink.
Fourthly, numbering these is getting annoying, huh?
Fifthly, it occurred to me when you mentioned that you think of how far along you would have been, that it is possible that you are feeling some sort of phantom pregnancy thing, akin to a phantom limb. Take note of how you feel after what would have been nine months. Just a hunch.
Sixthly, I love your writing.

SJ said...

Sometimes, your writing just leaves me with a loss for words - as always, you say it well.

Woman in a Window said...

Maggie May, I am sorry. I come here and float in your beauty like a big old ugly goat's head in stinky fluid. The stink is mine, not yours. And you remind me in your beauty and in your pain that life is good and pain walks beside us and sometimes even beauty is not perfect.
xo
erin

Jeanne said...

What a wonderful gift you have for drawing us along on your journey. Does it help to have company?

My word verification is: restiv

Sounds you're feeling a bit that way....

Maggie May said...

It absolutely makes it better to have company- good company like you all.

ConverseMomma said...

You take my breath away. I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm so fucking sorry for loss.

magnoliaamber said...

I had not yet felt and did not try to wonder how it would feel because I am not yet arrived into that period..I guess no matter how hard I try I won't understand exactly how you feel.
But your writing makes me remember about the old Japanese comical series.
There they mentioned, "They (babies) will cry loud when they arrive, perhaps protesting why they have to arrive in this crazy world (not always in my opinion!), but this baby...he arrived silently."

Get well soon! And you will sooner or later...
I am looking forward to your next writing!
xoxo

Judearoo said...

Sounds to me you should be gentle with yourself and realise its ok to feel this way sometimes. In the words of the great Max Ehrmann ('Desiderata', check it out);

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

yolanda said...

i love you, maggie.
relax. i always demand sex when i am too sad.......
i love you!
yolanda lola

adrienne said...

pearls, absolute pearls of wisdom you lay for all to marvel and enjoy.

thanks for your comment...a blessing to know such a wordsmith and lively spirit is listening and responding.

i adore your disclaimer...'the author does not take responsibility for living these out to their full potential'.

i will keep that one close as a reminder that sometimes our best is simply recognizing that we must reach for better.

peace to you and you creation chakra.

Neil said...

i will not be confined by my own ( blog ) should be the official motto of the blogosphere

Shannon said...

I love your honesty. I tell myself and others that I'm an honest person, and I am for the most part, but I'm not honest like this. I feel much the same way as you do, but I tend to sugarcoat things for the benefit of others--and maybe for myself, too.

I'm very sorry for your loss. I knew of it and I'm not sure that I've said that I'm sorry. What a horrible thing to have to live through.

I know what you mean about hypochondria. I do, to myself, exactly what you've described. My therapist has recently suggested that I try talking to myself in that nice motherly fashion.

Thanks for being yourself and being honest. It's something I aspire to.

I hope the sadness you described starts moving away bit by bit, until you are nothing but truly happy when you're smiling and laughing.

Laura said...

I know it seems like this will go on forever, but it does get better. You will be able to move on, and it will stop hurting so bad. It will help when all of the tests are done and there is nothing else looming unfinished. My thoughts are still with you... No one can imagine how heavy a miscarriage makes everything feel until they have experienced it for themself. Allow your heart to take it's time... your body too... everything will come around.

bernthis said...

I can't imagine of any life that is truly simple and if there is than it is truly boring as well.

You write to beautifully. I am sitting in my shit today as well. I know tomorrow will be a better day, at least age has taught me that lesson and it's a good one

koe whitton-williams said...

maggie - i don't know how you do it - you hook me in - i feel like i need a chaperon, methodone maybe.

Jacqueline said...

Maggie, I'm deeply sorry for your loss. I've been through miscarriage and understand just how little sense everything must make right now. We grieve at the level we loved, and your attachment need not be compared to anyone else's experience.

I found it comforting to have my other kids around. But I also found that there were times when I just didn't want to be so damn needed. I hope you have a place to go that feels safe and warm. Where you can curl up when you want, and howl when you need to. Everything you're doing is right. And I'm blown away by the ability you have to form words, and share them in the midst of all this.

hayley said...

it's no wonder you're feeling depressed, maggie. keep enjoying those smaller moments. things will change soon enough. they always do. hang in there girl.

sarasophia said...

I <3 you Maggie.
Be better.
I wish it for you.

I pray it for you.


sarasophia

jb said...

Maggie May.....you beautiful soul that I admire so much. Thank-you for sharing this honest and heart wrentching post with all of us.


Tonight maggie, I will pray for you to be whole in your core once again. I will light a candle and utter words of love, joy and happiness for you.

I will hold my heart and pray for you so that tomorrow will bring bright sunshine to your soul.
Tonight maggie you will sleep the sleep of a child and the heaviness you feel will be lifted because tonight you will know that your not alone in this great vast world.... that we are all holding your pain so you can hold less at least for this night love.

Goodnight sweet maggie good night......

Love
JBxoxo

JJ Keith said...

Thanks for posting so honestly. I read a lot of sunny blogs -- which I love -- but truly life ain't always so sunshiney bright, so please can we take a moment to sit in the shit? Thank you.

I know the pregnancy loss clock you speak of very well. I think sometimes about my lost pregnancies and who those babies were in relation to the baby that lived and is sleeping now. Siblings? Premonitions? I dunno. But that damn clock doesn't stop ticking. They'd be 18, 14, and 11 months now. Bea is 6 months.

Lacey said...

I wonder (a lot, during the most random parts of day), if you realize how powerful you are. And I think that might should say something because I don't spend a lot of random parts of my day thinking about most of the people wandering about in the blogosphere. Your words stick, and you're beautiful, and... and... yeah. All of that.

Vashti said...

hey. Im just catching up on posts cause iver been away and today I am also sad. I just took the kids to school and then sat in the garden and had a good cry! I spent last night with some girls in a homeless shelter and all yesterday with a 4 month old baby boy who is HIV+. I jst read this post and to know that you are so sad breaks my heart. Maybe I need to blog today and let it all out.
Today I am praying that we both have a better day.
Much love my friend.
x

Margo said...

speechless in myrtle beach. Love your writing - I think I'm walking around awake and I know when I read this that sometimes I'm kidding the heck out of myself :)

anymommy said...

I don't know what to say except I read this and I loved it and I think of you often in my day with warmth and because I love the way you think.

la fille vanille said...

I am really moved by your feelings and honesty... I'm so sorry for your loss... Thanks for sharing.

molly said...

ohmaggie, i'm sorry to hear about your miscarriage. i have not lost, but i cannot gain, either. i feel your pain in a pre-pregnancy way, of someone that cannot get pregnant and always wanted to. I totally relate to that sadness seeping out of a smile. sometimes i wonder why people can't see it, and then i guess i'm glad they don't.
i'm so sorry.

julochka said...

i love the notion of not being confined. by so many things. and yet i have slowly grown confined. how does it happen without us even noticing? it creeps up. it happens in increments until suddenly, there we are, confined.

beautiful. deep. warrants reading again.

xox,
/j

rachel said...

Yep, see, I don't know what to say, except I get it.

And thank you for sharing this.

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