Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Sick, But Healing

Health update: Oh boy!

Spent all day at the hospital yesterday! Yay! Talked to a NEW physician. Which was part of the problem. Had tests, got questioned. Felt sick.
I can feel the very sick coming on again.
They will call me with results again next week, they think.

We are, at this point hoping that there have been no real complications, though there have likely been some in my kidneys. Also in my nervous system. The kidney thing is likely just an infection that my body is having trouble fighting off. (Don't care, still hurts and I'm now out of pain meds for 6 days.) And the CNS stuff... I'm back to having some intense headaches. Plus the shaking, slash dropping thing thing is awesome.

I do however have Bob in my life, who has been an incredible friend to me. Last night after everything he came over and we just laid on the bed, mostly entwined simply talking about our lives. I asked about his health, he asked about mine. We shared secrets. It was absolutely perfect. It was SO GOOD to be held. To have someone attentive to what I needed, and I of course in turn attended to him. This is not a sexual relationship. But it has been making up for a lot of the kind of interaction I wish I'd had with someone for a while now.
Not only that, but here's the kicker. When it was time for him to go: HE SAID HE DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE.
I have been waiting to hear that forever it feels. And I know he meant it.
It made me happy.

I have been evaluating why such a simple phrase could mean so much, and I think it comes down to my brain sort of reading it as 'I don't want to abandon you.'
It doesn't mean he won't. He obviously left. But it was reassuring. And I ate it up.
We talked for a few moments on the phone today, but I'm sick with my shit, plus Bob, Jay and I all have some kind of infection we picked up from Sarah's hospital visit.

So while this entry is shorter, I return to the hospital March 14th, and should get results before then. Meanwhile, it's nap time. Music will have to wait. As will the rest of what happened this crazy week.

I wish you the kind of healing you need tonight. It seems I'm finding a bit myself.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Solitary Stage

They've got some very valid questions
about my songs and my intentions
and the fact I've never settled down;
"isn't anybody wondering where you are?"
This is home: the stage, the States,
all I own in one suitcase
all the people that I've loved
left back in places I've called home
Let's play truth and consequences:
First the truth? I'm not that interested
I've been burned a couple times,
so now I'm the one who starts the fires
And I probably still believe in love;
the problem is, I just can't trust
So where does that leave us?
(Well) How about those consequences?
I've got this moat around my heart
chock full of mud and monsters
and my archers never sleep,
so use your powers of observation
this stage is more than just the lights and all the adulation:
it's the only place where I can be alone... without --- being alone.
This is home:
the stage,
the States
all I own in one suitcase
all the people that i've loved left back in places I've called home
Someday, I'll stop this war
Someday I'll fall in love,
and know what love is for...
but for tonight, I'll sell the box
and keep the contents under lock and key
and by the time you realize you've lost the game,
I'll be another several homes away,
up on some solitary stage alone again.

How To Save A Life

Not sure I'm up to writing, but you know, I guess there's always that try factor.

On Friday night I oversaw my first show at my bar. Completely me. I booked the bands. I did the P.A. I did well. Everyone was stoked. Happy. It was a good show. It was the first time I ever took serious pride in my work. EVER.

Fast forward, I djed a party later that night. Also went extremely well. The company that offered me the job has asked me back. I'm very happy to be back djing again. Even if it is some high kid coming up and saying "hey man, I love this song! I love you!" I still take some fucking pride in that.

Fast forward to Sunday night. I'm hanging out with my best friend Sarah and her new boyfriend Bob. Sarah, out of nowhere, goes into anaphalatic shock. In my arms. She stops breathing. I put her on the floor and immediately begin to do mouth to mouth and CPR. Bob, her boyfriend, frantic, dials 911. I'm turning her over and she coughs and vomits on the floor and continue to give her oxygen til the paramedics arrive.
When the paramedics arrive they give her a trachemotemy, and to which she begins a scream I will never forget. They rush her to the hospital. One pauses long enough to tell me if I hadn't done what I'd done she'd have brain damage at best. Likely, she would have died. Then they tell us to follow her to Greenwood hospital.

I held her hand until she opened her eyes. They had inserted a tube down her throat to help her breathe. Bob and I stayed until 6am when they kicked us out. Meanwhile, I'm continually calling her father and keeping him updated of her condition while he's back in Chicago. It wasn't looking good for a bit.
They removed her tube around ten am and we were allowed back a short time later.
Sarah recovered beautifully barring some scarring in her throat from the tube. She's home and well now.

Bob and I spent the night at his place clinging to each other for comfort. Praying all would turn out. We talked a lot. Bob, as it turns out, is quite an amazing man. I found myself seriously attracted to someone since everything ended in September with J. I don't know if it was the trauma that brought us together or what, but as it turns out there is no one else to speak to about something like this. No one can understand. I held Sarah's life in my fucking hands, and I had to make the decision to play God. I mean, like there's a choice right? I shoved that air down her throat and pumped her lungs til I was damn sure it was gunna be ok.

I almost lost my closest friend...

Anyway, since everything I've been deeply entrenched in a PTSD episode. I saw my therapist today as an emergency, and I see a new doctor monday to figure out meds to get me through this- but really what can you say? People are calling me a hero. I fucking hate it. Like what was my choice? To be an asshole? Of COURSE I sprang to action and made sure she was gunna be ok.

Outside of my wild, "life saving" weekend, I have waited with baited breath to see if karma would do me one. Just to have Johnny call. And, no big surprise here, no word what so ever.
Not only that but because I was in the hospital with Sar, I missed one of my appts. That doctor will no longer see me now. HA! Do something good, get fucked. You know? I never learn. My meds are running out quickly which means I have to go to the E.R

Oh, and as an update I can't do SHIT about what's going on with my body til March 14th. Turns out nobody cares about people on Medicaid. Big surprise here.

Believe it or not, though this entry sounds... whatever... I AM positive I can get the med sitch worked out on Monday SOMEHOW. And I am very, very glad I was with Sarah and she is alive.

Meanwhile... Johnny will not return emails, texts, or calls. I'm pretty sure he no longer gives a shit about me. As Joanna says "when they're done, they're done."

Guess then, it's officially time for me too, to go into the future and do as I should. From this point forward I assume he no longer reads, responds, or cares one way or the other about what happens to me. This makes me so incredibly sad- if you could feel it there would be a black hole. But I can never make someone care for me who can't. I really do fucking wish there had been a real chance for a goodbye. I've wracked my brain. I've worked on my career. I've stayed celibate and single hoping that it would make it easier to reconnnect with me when he wanted to come back. Now I can't believe he does.

It's not like there can be a worse fate for me than his silence. And that is all he gives. It breaks me. But even through his promises- I knew his past from his exs. I hoped to be different. I hoped that my love could be seen in any form. I see now that because of whatever romantic attachment he felt for me, he simply can't. More to the point, won't.
I ache when I pass his street. My heart skips when I hear his name. I want EVERY GOOD THING for him. But sometimes I pass his street on my way to gigs and see Amber's car there. I guess... Well, I guess tearing me down worked. And he couldn't see through what was really going on. His life went back to exactly the way it was. And I had to change everything about mine.

I'm back in the hospital in March. I'll keep you posted. All the fucking drama wears me out.

WORK MOTHERFUCKING BODY!!!! WORK!!!! Quit fucking around with me! Please! Give up on me, or give me some rest. I can't keep doing this.
I'm tired of living on pills. Day to day.

I'm writing lyrics. I have melodies. Depending on "the band" I have my first solo (but with a live band) in April.

I'm too sore. Tired. Exhausted to write more.


Please forgive me. Dear Spirits, Please forgive me.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

From Me

I went to the hospital on Thursday @10am. Turns out the person who is supposed to be doing my intake and keeping track of my shit quit uncerimoniously, so I have to go back in Monday morning to start over. Nobody even called to let me know. I thought that was kind of shitty, but whatever.

Meanwhile I've been working, and doing my share of thinking. A lot about love/dating, and a lot about life.

I'd go more into it, but I booked a show tonight I need to oversee in Everett. Then I'm checking out a new band, then hoping over to finish the night at the Merc. Haven't drank in days.
In other weird news I got a refill on my blessed apricot mistress, (aka Xanie) and it really worked yesterday. I slept for 12 hours, and woke up feeling healthier and happier in I can't remember how long. I'd kill to feel like that everyday.

I know what I am doing now is for my own good, and I'm keeping to my own newly imposed rules for my life.
I can't wait to have my room back when Ian leaves, surprisingly. Not that I want Ian to leave, but it will be nice to be able to shut myself in my room alone with my music and really let the weight of what's happening sink in. My life is changing, for better or for worse. My plans have been suspended. Now is a time for transformation and I can either adopt gracefully or be stubborn about it.

I remember what I felt like 6 months ago. I don't feel that anymore, but there is a profound sense of lonliness at times. I am sad that I can't talk to some of the people I used to rely on anymore. Especially my best friend from high school Bevin. I've been trying to reach her to no avail for at least 4 months now. I realize I may have started mourning that relationship. I can't make someone stay in my life. I just wish I understood what was going on.
I send out texts randomly to others to test the waters, usually to silence.
I wonder what I've done.
I want to make everything right, if it's even possible.
It makes me utterly thankful for the people I have in my life now that I realize are people that truly are there for me. I love this ragged band of characters more than I can possibly say. Soon, I think, everyone will know my truth.

Til then, this is an interlude. I have a crazy night ahead of me. I must sleep a little. I will write again soon.

From the bottom of my full heart. Some parts bruised, other parts healing, some remaining strong.