I remember everything! I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday. I was barely seventeen and I once killed a boy with a Fender guitar. I don't remember if it was a Telecaster or a Stratocaster but I do remember that it had a heart of chrome and a voice like a horny angel. I don't remember if it was a Telecaster or a Stratocaster but I do remember that it wasn't at all easy. It required the perfect combination of the right power chords and the precise angle from which to strike.
The guitar bled for about a week afterward and the blood was, ohhh, dark and rich, like wild berries. The blood of the guitar was chuck berry red. The guitar bled for about a week afterward but it rung. Out. Beautifully. And I was able to play notes that I had never even heard before.
So I took my guitar, and I smashed it against the wall! I smashed it against the floor! I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader! I smashed it against the hood of a car! Smashed it against a 1981 Harley Davidson! The Harley howled in pain! The guitar howled in heat....and I ran up the stairs to my parents' bedroom - Mommy and Daddy were sleeping in the moonlight.
Slowly I opened the door, creeping through the shadows right up to the foot of their bed. I raised the guitar high above my head, and just as I was about to bring the guitar crashing down upon the center of the bed, my father woke up screaming, "Stop! Wait a minute! Stop it boy! What do you think you're doing?! That's no way to treat an expensive musical instrument!"
And I said "God dammit Daddy! You know I love you. BUT YOU'VE GOT A HELL OF A LOT TO LEARN ABOUT ROCK AND ROLL!"
Jim Steinman
Back In The Saddle, Again
Okay, so quick update before it's time to get ready for work.
I did it. I went and saw my old boss and I'm already back on the schedule for August. I put in my two weeks' notice at work and am counting down the hours and minutes until I will never have to see that place again. (As I write this I realize I need to write my resignation letter. HR isn't in until Monday though so I have some time.)
Come August I will be back in the midst of the chaos and couldn't be happier. That chaos is where I belong, in the middle of that big, dysfunctional yet loving family of photographers. You can't kill the creative side of your brain. I tried, twice, and failed. So I'm just going to go with it.
I have started writing for real. I have pages and pages coming together and it's blowing my mind. Granted, I'm somewhat all over the place right now, but it's just the beginning and we all have to start somewhere. The fluidity of the pace at which I am writing is astounding, when last year I couldn't get a paragraph done. I realized that when it comes to writing, get it out and then worry about structure. I had tried outlines, creating characters and organizational thinking to no avail. It wasn't until I said screw it and just started going with whatever was in my head at the moment that it all started coming together. The characters will build themselves. The story line will be under construction until the last sentence is written. But my main focus is that whatever this turns into - whether it ends up a short story or a novel - will be something people will want to read. It will be something they can relate to. It will be interesting. It will be heart wrenching. It will be heartwarming, it will be uplifting, it will be funny, it will be sexy. It will be my life, or whatever I choose to make it, on paper. Because trust me kids, my trips around the sun have been far from boring.
I did it. I went and saw my old boss and I'm already back on the schedule for August. I put in my two weeks' notice at work and am counting down the hours and minutes until I will never have to see that place again. (As I write this I realize I need to write my resignation letter. HR isn't in until Monday though so I have some time.)
Come August I will be back in the midst of the chaos and couldn't be happier. That chaos is where I belong, in the middle of that big, dysfunctional yet loving family of photographers. You can't kill the creative side of your brain. I tried, twice, and failed. So I'm just going to go with it.
I have started writing for real. I have pages and pages coming together and it's blowing my mind. Granted, I'm somewhat all over the place right now, but it's just the beginning and we all have to start somewhere. The fluidity of the pace at which I am writing is astounding, when last year I couldn't get a paragraph done. I realized that when it comes to writing, get it out and then worry about structure. I had tried outlines, creating characters and organizational thinking to no avail. It wasn't until I said screw it and just started going with whatever was in my head at the moment that it all started coming together. The characters will build themselves. The story line will be under construction until the last sentence is written. But my main focus is that whatever this turns into - whether it ends up a short story or a novel - will be something people will want to read. It will be something they can relate to. It will be interesting. It will be heart wrenching. It will be heartwarming, it will be uplifting, it will be funny, it will be sexy. It will be my life, or whatever I choose to make it, on paper. Because trust me kids, my trips around the sun have been far from boring.
I Create My Own Confusion
Here I am back again at square one in regards to what I do for a living. If a living is even what you can call it; I'm scraping by unable to save a dime. Sure, having health benefits is great, still being paid for time off is great, but the toll it is taking on my sanity is of a magnitude I didn't think possible. No wonder 40-hour-a-week drones, those who spend that time in a cubicle or at a desk, are miserable. I'm not even in a cubicle but I lose my damn mind walking into that same building every day, going into the same locker room, putting on the same scrubs, and doing the same jobs over and over again. The time just drags on, and I spend more of it there than I do anywhere else.
Yes, I know how lucky I am to even have a job. I also realize how lucky I am to have the ability to make choices when it comes to my job and what I do to pay the bills. The enormity of it is not lost on me. BUT...
I've begun to ask myself, Is this the quality of life I want? I know, I know. It's only been four months. I've applied for two different positions within the company; I didn't get the first one for reasons I completely understand, but I wanted to prove I had the guts and gusto to move upwards. Still waiting to be interviewed for the second one, or at least hear something, and it the outcome just might make the decision for me - the decision I'd never thought I'd face again and the conclusion I've already come to - that this is not for me. I walk around that place and think, I am not like these people. I can't handle this. I need to be using the other side of my brain again. At least the stress that caused me was worth it in some twisted way.
The stress I'm experiencing now is of a whole different caliber - working twice as hard for less money, missing my family, my life, popping one or two Klonopins just to get through the day. With my old job they were there if I needed them, but it was rare that I had to run to the bathroom with a bottle of water and dig through my purse in search of my prescription. (Which reminds me, I need to get it refilled for the first time in almost an entire year. What does that say?)
I don't know what the hell to do. My old job is beckoning me to come back. Come back Dana, your passion isn't dead. Come back, you can make a few small demands from your old boss that would make it worth it to both you and him.
Now that my major debt is paid off, I'd be able to sock away some money. I'd be able to repay those who have helped me out, because right now, the paycheck goes into my account and then right back out, regardless of the fact that I have slashed my monthly bills by almost a third. I've been sitting on $20 since last Monday to get me through until this Friday.
Maybe I needed a break from the photography gig to reset my mind frame. Maybe I needed a wake up call to realize how good I had it, even with all of the traffic and snot nosed brats that I had to make look fabulous. I remember cutting the grass one day, my thoughts following the trails I was making while pushing the mower, and thinking, Maybe being the Picture Lady, being the school portrait photographer, for the rest of my life wouldn't have been such a bad gig. At least there I had coworkers I looked up to and aspired to be like. At least there, when summer time came, I had the ability and freedom to express my creativity by taking actual portraits that wouldn't just be discarded the following year. Oh and the stories I had. The stories I would come home with were some of the best.
Like I said, I don't know what the hell to do. I am more confused now than I've ever been. What does my heart want? What does God want for me?
I better get my ass in gear and head to the gym to (hopefully) clear my head a bit before it's time to go to work. Shudder.
Yes, I know how lucky I am to even have a job. I also realize how lucky I am to have the ability to make choices when it comes to my job and what I do to pay the bills. The enormity of it is not lost on me. BUT...
I've begun to ask myself, Is this the quality of life I want? I know, I know. It's only been four months. I've applied for two different positions within the company; I didn't get the first one for reasons I completely understand, but I wanted to prove I had the guts and gusto to move upwards. Still waiting to be interviewed for the second one, or at least hear something, and it the outcome just might make the decision for me - the decision I'd never thought I'd face again and the conclusion I've already come to - that this is not for me. I walk around that place and think, I am not like these people. I can't handle this. I need to be using the other side of my brain again. At least the stress that caused me was worth it in some twisted way.
The stress I'm experiencing now is of a whole different caliber - working twice as hard for less money, missing my family, my life, popping one or two Klonopins just to get through the day. With my old job they were there if I needed them, but it was rare that I had to run to the bathroom with a bottle of water and dig through my purse in search of my prescription. (Which reminds me, I need to get it refilled for the first time in almost an entire year. What does that say?)
I don't know what the hell to do. My old job is beckoning me to come back. Come back Dana, your passion isn't dead. Come back, you can make a few small demands from your old boss that would make it worth it to both you and him.
Now that my major debt is paid off, I'd be able to sock away some money. I'd be able to repay those who have helped me out, because right now, the paycheck goes into my account and then right back out, regardless of the fact that I have slashed my monthly bills by almost a third. I've been sitting on $20 since last Monday to get me through until this Friday.
Maybe I needed a break from the photography gig to reset my mind frame. Maybe I needed a wake up call to realize how good I had it, even with all of the traffic and snot nosed brats that I had to make look fabulous. I remember cutting the grass one day, my thoughts following the trails I was making while pushing the mower, and thinking, Maybe being the Picture Lady, being the school portrait photographer, for the rest of my life wouldn't have been such a bad gig. At least there I had coworkers I looked up to and aspired to be like. At least there, when summer time came, I had the ability and freedom to express my creativity by taking actual portraits that wouldn't just be discarded the following year. Oh and the stories I had. The stories I would come home with were some of the best.
Like I said, I don't know what the hell to do. I am more confused now than I've ever been. What does my heart want? What does God want for me?
I better get my ass in gear and head to the gym to (hopefully) clear my head a bit before it's time to go to work. Shudder.
My Journey Back To Faith, Part 3
I am so thankful for Philip. We have both been helping each other rekindle our relationships with God. He grew up in the church much like I did, he strayed from the church much like I did, he was searching for a way back much like I was and we openly discussed our faith and our struggles. I had never been with someone with the same background as me when it came to the church. My ex had always denounced going to church and dragging him there even for special occasions or if I was performing with the choir was like pulling teeth. It made me sad because for most of the time we were together, my faith had been growing and evolving and he, indirectly or not, stunted it.
When Philip and I started dating I had already been toying with the idea of going back to church. One Saturday night as we were getting ready for bed he asked me if I would like to go to church with him the following morning, as if he had read my mind. Thus began our Sunday morning ritual of attending Gateway Church in Parkesburg. And I love it there. It's based on the same principles of the church I used to attend, but it lacks the pretentiousness I was so accustomed to. The congregation as a whole has a sense of genuineness that I missed so much, and the teachings are applicable to real life as opposed to ones that could only be so if one lived in a bubble. When I walked in the door for the first time, my fear of being judged or shunned melted away. Shit, I walk into my own church still feeling that way regardless of the fact that most of the congregation there has known me since I was five years old. I've only been attending Gateway for maybe two months and already feel at home. The pastor is a warm, openly emotional, approachable guy who one can expect a bear hug from in the foyer on Sunday mornings before the service. My first time there he seemed genuinely delighted to meet me, as did the other members I was introduced to by Philip - and to see the look on their faces when he would announce that I was the inspiration for him coming back, well, I can't really describe that feeling. It was as if someone had returned their lost puppy after months of searching for it.
It doesn't matter if we walk in there wearing the same clothes from the night before or me in yoga pants and flip flops, no makeup and hair in a messy ponytail, Philip in the shirt he probably slept in, his giant septum ring proudly on display - no one bats an eye or turns to the person next to them, whispering judgement. They're happy to see us there.
To be continued...
When Philip and I started dating I had already been toying with the idea of going back to church. One Saturday night as we were getting ready for bed he asked me if I would like to go to church with him the following morning, as if he had read my mind. Thus began our Sunday morning ritual of attending Gateway Church in Parkesburg. And I love it there. It's based on the same principles of the church I used to attend, but it lacks the pretentiousness I was so accustomed to. The congregation as a whole has a sense of genuineness that I missed so much, and the teachings are applicable to real life as opposed to ones that could only be so if one lived in a bubble. When I walked in the door for the first time, my fear of being judged or shunned melted away. Shit, I walk into my own church still feeling that way regardless of the fact that most of the congregation there has known me since I was five years old. I've only been attending Gateway for maybe two months and already feel at home. The pastor is a warm, openly emotional, approachable guy who one can expect a bear hug from in the foyer on Sunday mornings before the service. My first time there he seemed genuinely delighted to meet me, as did the other members I was introduced to by Philip - and to see the look on their faces when he would announce that I was the inspiration for him coming back, well, I can't really describe that feeling. It was as if someone had returned their lost puppy after months of searching for it.
It doesn't matter if we walk in there wearing the same clothes from the night before or me in yoga pants and flip flops, no makeup and hair in a messy ponytail, Philip in the shirt he probably slept in, his giant septum ring proudly on display - no one bats an eye or turns to the person next to them, whispering judgement. They're happy to see us there.
To be continued...
My Journey Back To Faith, Part 2
My mother has a daily devotional book, Jesus Calling, that sits on the kitchen table. I've taken to picking it up in the morning, especially when I'm feeling lousy, and whatever the devotion happens to be for that particular day never fails to be totally relevant to how I'm feeling. Never fails.
Monday I spent all day at work in front of the computer processing pill counts and suspensions for dispensing. It's good because it doesn't require heavy lifting, but it gets a little repetitive, so I had a lot of time to think. My mind would wander back to whether or not I had made the right career move. Doubt and worry about my future set in. So yesterday morning I picked up the devotional and the words leaped off the page and damn near smacked me in the face.
June 18
YOU ARE MY BELOVED CHILD. I chose you to be the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along the paths designed specifically for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment.
Your hope and your future are rooted in heaven, where eternal ecstasy awaits you. Nothing can rob you of your inheritance of unimaginable riches and well-being. Sometimes I grant you glimpses of your glorious future, to encourage you and spur you on. But your main focus should be staying close to Me. I set the pace in keeping with your needs and My purposes.
Boom! There it was, exactly what I needed to hear, because my struggle right now is focusing too much time and energy on things I cannot control and therefore I have a very hard time relaxing and enjoying the present moment.
I'm not ashamed that I've chosen to rekindle my relationship with God. It has made a huge difference in my life. Where there was once nothing but darkness I now see light. I'm slowly starting to feel peace come back into my life. I'm learning that the struggles I experience in my head can and will be overcome. I'm learning to accept that life isn't and never will be perfect or what I expect it to be, and to be thankful for the blessings I do have.
To be continued...
Monday I spent all day at work in front of the computer processing pill counts and suspensions for dispensing. It's good because it doesn't require heavy lifting, but it gets a little repetitive, so I had a lot of time to think. My mind would wander back to whether or not I had made the right career move. Doubt and worry about my future set in. So yesterday morning I picked up the devotional and the words leaped off the page and damn near smacked me in the face.
June 18
YOU ARE MY BELOVED CHILD. I chose you to be the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along the paths designed specifically for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment.
Your hope and your future are rooted in heaven, where eternal ecstasy awaits you. Nothing can rob you of your inheritance of unimaginable riches and well-being. Sometimes I grant you glimpses of your glorious future, to encourage you and spur you on. But your main focus should be staying close to Me. I set the pace in keeping with your needs and My purposes.
Boom! There it was, exactly what I needed to hear, because my struggle right now is focusing too much time and energy on things I cannot control and therefore I have a very hard time relaxing and enjoying the present moment.
I'm not ashamed that I've chosen to rekindle my relationship with God. It has made a huge difference in my life. Where there was once nothing but darkness I now see light. I'm slowly starting to feel peace come back into my life. I'm learning that the struggles I experience in my head can and will be overcome. I'm learning to accept that life isn't and never will be perfect or what I expect it to be, and to be thankful for the blessings I do have.
To be continued...
My Journey Back To Faith
I took the day off last Wednesday because the pain in my chest was pretty unbearable and I needed a mental health break as well.
I started experiencing severe chest pains at work last Friday and ended up in my doctor's office. All of the tests they ran showed that it wasn't my heart, thank God. (They were able to see me immediately and wanted to prevent an emergency room trip if at all possible and I'm glad they did because that wouldn't have been necessary.) Turns out I have costochondritis, and all I can do is manage the pain until it goes away on its own, plus make sure I take it easy so as not to aggravate it or slow down the healing process. Very frustrating for someone whose job entails plenty of heavy lifting and someone who also goes to the gym frequently. But again, I'm so thankful that my heart is just fine.
So I took it easy last Wednesday and decided to read most of the day. I haven't had the luxury to sit down with a book, uninterrupted, for a long time. Before I picked one up, settling on How To Save Your Own Life by Erica Jong, one I've already read but in a previous life, I sat down and started making a list of things I need to remind myself of on a daily basis.
Like,
- I can't stress about tomorrow because it's out of my control.
- I can't stress over money because I have a full time job and my bills are getting paid.
- I can't worry about the things I have no control over.
- I must choose to enjoy the present. Not dwell in the past or mull over the future.
- I am thankful for all I do have and won't concern myself with what I don't have.
Sometimes I get so down on myself, so immersed in my own head, that I end up feeling like a lousy human being. I forget how far I've come this past year. I dwell on the negatives, like I've said before, instead of focusing on the positives. And sometimes I even take the positives and spin them into negatives. It's a vicious cycle that I am trying desperately to put an end to.
To be continued...
I started experiencing severe chest pains at work last Friday and ended up in my doctor's office. All of the tests they ran showed that it wasn't my heart, thank God. (They were able to see me immediately and wanted to prevent an emergency room trip if at all possible and I'm glad they did because that wouldn't have been necessary.) Turns out I have costochondritis, and all I can do is manage the pain until it goes away on its own, plus make sure I take it easy so as not to aggravate it or slow down the healing process. Very frustrating for someone whose job entails plenty of heavy lifting and someone who also goes to the gym frequently. But again, I'm so thankful that my heart is just fine.
So I took it easy last Wednesday and decided to read most of the day. I haven't had the luxury to sit down with a book, uninterrupted, for a long time. Before I picked one up, settling on How To Save Your Own Life by Erica Jong, one I've already read but in a previous life, I sat down and started making a list of things I need to remind myself of on a daily basis.
Like,
- I can't stress about tomorrow because it's out of my control.
- I can't stress over money because I have a full time job and my bills are getting paid.
- I can't worry about the things I have no control over.
- I must choose to enjoy the present. Not dwell in the past or mull over the future.
- I am thankful for all I do have and won't concern myself with what I don't have.
Sometimes I get so down on myself, so immersed in my own head, that I end up feeling like a lousy human being. I forget how far I've come this past year. I dwell on the negatives, like I've said before, instead of focusing on the positives. And sometimes I even take the positives and spin them into negatives. It's a vicious cycle that I am trying desperately to put an end to.
To be continued...
The Pain Of Not Knowing Answers
Okay, so I tend to blow things out of proportion. We all do, don't we? I don't know why I'm struggling with insecurity issues when it comes to my relationship, or why I can't just let it be and accept the fact that someone outside of my family actually cares about me.
About 2 or 3 weeks ago my PMS had seemingly gotten out of control. As much as I hate to return to the cliche, I can't help but point out that when I'm down on myself, when I'm bitchy and snap and everyone, when I want to crawl into a hole and die just so happens to be when my uterus is doing it's monthly thing.
Wednesday of that particular week I had the day off and the weather was gorgeous. I spent all day outside, working on the pool & the yard, then laying by said pool even though it isn't swimmable yet. Then my brain decided to get the best of me. I started dwelling on why my boyfriend had abruptly cut off the texting the night before. I started dwelling on the fact that I am almost 30 and I still live at home. I started seriously wondering if I had made the right decision to leave my old job and start a new one in a completely different field. Dwelling on financial struggle. I was missing my dad, and my brother, who has been working down in Rehoboth for the past month or so and I don't get to see as much as I used to, (even though I know it's temporary.) Waves of emotion just kept crashing down on me and I couldn't control them.
When this happens I ask myself, "Why?" I have come so far in making positive changes to my life, so why do I still get incredibly down in the dumps? For a split second I considered asking my doctor about going back on antidepressants. But I don't want to travel down that road again. I'd rather exercise a positive mind set without the aid of prescription medicine. I'd rather stand up and say that I refuse to let depression get the best of me.
Why do I have so much trouble reminding myself to sit back and take serious inventory of all the good in my life and dwell on that instead of the negatives? I'm in constant search of the answer.
About 2 or 3 weeks ago my PMS had seemingly gotten out of control. As much as I hate to return to the cliche, I can't help but point out that when I'm down on myself, when I'm bitchy and snap and everyone, when I want to crawl into a hole and die just so happens to be when my uterus is doing it's monthly thing.
Wednesday of that particular week I had the day off and the weather was gorgeous. I spent all day outside, working on the pool & the yard, then laying by said pool even though it isn't swimmable yet. Then my brain decided to get the best of me. I started dwelling on why my boyfriend had abruptly cut off the texting the night before. I started dwelling on the fact that I am almost 30 and I still live at home. I started seriously wondering if I had made the right decision to leave my old job and start a new one in a completely different field. Dwelling on financial struggle. I was missing my dad, and my brother, who has been working down in Rehoboth for the past month or so and I don't get to see as much as I used to, (even though I know it's temporary.) Waves of emotion just kept crashing down on me and I couldn't control them.
When this happens I ask myself, "Why?" I have come so far in making positive changes to my life, so why do I still get incredibly down in the dumps? For a split second I considered asking my doctor about going back on antidepressants. But I don't want to travel down that road again. I'd rather exercise a positive mind set without the aid of prescription medicine. I'd rather stand up and say that I refuse to let depression get the best of me.
Why do I have so much trouble reminding myself to sit back and take serious inventory of all the good in my life and dwell on that instead of the negatives? I'm in constant search of the answer.
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