the disconnect

my mom and I have an unconventionally open and honest relationship, and she has turned out to be my most dependable and loyal friend. sure, we went through the terrible teens together, riding out the speed bumps of regular angst and then in turn the subsequent and terrible chemo-angst. now, we talk nearly every day, and we're just as likely to compare notes on our boyfriend's penis size over cocktails and a joint as we are to discuss mortality and spirituality, the latter of which I tend to steer clear of due to my generally agnostic point of view. (naturally, phallic conversations are common fodder.)

I feel very lucky to have a mother who is and always has been more of a friend than a maternal influence, and I did get a different kind of nurturing from her mother, who was my nana. although she is no longer around, the time that she spent caring for me helped me become a more compassionate person, and helped me keep faith in hope without smothering me with the catholic evangelism that was so prevalent in my childhood education. nana was, in addition to being an impossibly loving and strong woman, absolutely fucking hilarious. she was herself a god fearing, church going, hibernian tea party curator who pin curled her hair every day and never, ever let anyone in the family see her without her dentures in. she also regularly coined catch phrases such as, "if you can't eat it, and you can't have sex with it, piss on it."

at least I know where I came from.

when I talked to my mom yesterday morning as I was frantically hoofing it to the salon, she brought up the spirit-body disconnect. when she gets all hippie-dippy on me I usually just let her talk until she exhausts herself on the subject, but this time I listened carefully to her speak about the toll it takes on our souls to disallow the two to remain in sync. it seemed abundantly clear all of the sudden, even though the dilemma has been right in my mixed up midst... I am so far away from myself, and so unbelievably distant from being present.

even as I move forward with my life after the disaster that was "two thousand-great", even as I wake up every morning and get dressed and try to feign productivity, this is not the life I want to lead. I don't want to wake up at 4 in the morning, hungover and with a smoker's cough, looking eagerly forward to my next distraction. one night stands are not a comfort, and having an affair with my ex is not fulfilling. haunting local bars and nightclubs is a pastime for a reason, yet I've gone right back to it as if I'd never left. the only difference is that a year on birth control ensured that none of my old party clothes fit quite right anymore. why am I denying my spirit what she deserves? there is only so much I can control, but I feel like I relinquished it all when I felt so defeated over the summer, sedentary in that familiar low that I that I hoped would stay far at bay. I'm missing even just the basics; a body that is healthy, a mind that is marginally sound, a dignity that I haven't honored in such a long time. I know that somewhere I lost my way, and it's hard not to dwell on discouraging thoughts that I have wasted another entire year. if this idea terrifies me so much, why is it so hard to get off of my ass and do something? why am I still loyally boomeranging back to the very things that I know break me down? if I can't save me, no one is going to.

though I only know of a couple of people that even read these ramblings, I feel naked posting these thoughts. I've even lied to myself recently about how well I am adjusting and moving ahead, just to keep momentum after being stuck for such a long time. it could be worse, and I know that well, but it could be so much better. there are changes that I want and need to make, not to get back where I was before I fell astray, but to the next destination. right now, for me, that is new york. I haven't left california for two years, and I'm ready to get feel good lost.

I'm coming to terms with my two steps forward turning out to merely be damage control rather than a solution. when I come back, I hope I'll be refreshed. I hope I'll be ready. I'm lucky to be here, and I need to start acting like it.