Words can’t really describe my experience in meditation class last night.  I’ve illustrated it instead.  As you can see, I’m an awesome artist.

(Click for a larger picture)

Gum snapping and pen clicking are my two pet peeves. I should clarify- two of  my BIGGEST pet peeves (there are many).

I was early and proud of myself as I’m usually 10-15 minutes late, forever underestimating the drive.  Then I had to run up to my apartment three times.   And by the time I pulled out of the parking lot, I was running late.

Six-thirty and the sun was about to set. I tried to turn east onto the main road and the sun was so intense that I was blinded until I rearranged the visor and shaded my eyes.

I headed east out of Boulder Valley toward the Rock Bottom Brewery to meet my friends. I felt  rushed, annoyed at running late.  Van Morrison played on the radio. He performed a concert in Denver that night and the local station played a marathon immediately prior.  While at a stop light, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the sun, a bright fire-red orb, slip behind indigo mountains, turning the sky into brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, and purple.  I was stunned, watching until the last sliver disappeared behind a dark purple peak.

The light changed and I continued on and soon the sun returned to the sky, then set again.  I hit a stretch of highway and sped up and once again the sun hovered over the mountains, about to set.  As I sped up a hill, the sun rose higher and higher until it was a few inches over the peaks. I smiled, thinking,

“How many sunsets does someone usually get to watch in one day?”

I reached the high plateau and headed south.  Sweet Thing by Van Morrison started playing.  I turned to see the indigo Rockies towering over the wide expanse of rolling golden plains. Sunsets defy time.   The moments leading to it seem to slow down as you wait, anticipating the last second, not wanting to blink for fear of missing it.  Each second lasts a minute and the sun taunts and teases until it finally kisses the Rockies and the plains blush a tint of red in response.  Then a shift: time speeds up and within seconds the last sliver of red disk disappears behind the peaks.

I stuck my arm out the window, opening my hand to feel the wind lift it then pointing my fingers to drop.  Repeatedly catching the wind in my hand and enjoying the sensation through my fingers and against my skin.  Before me the plains divided, bright and golden to the east and russet to the west until they disappeared into the blue shadow of the Rockies.

I felt something rise in my chest, my throat and then my eyes.  I was crying.  Gratitude. Awe.  Happiness.  That’s what I was feeling.  Complete satisfaction and joy, harmony with the Universe.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for this moment.”

I was desperate to cling to it and not let it fade away into the abyss that had recently engulfed my life.

I’ve been super busy at work lately, except for today.  Why not?  Absinthe= devil water.  You try a sip, it’s okay, nothing spectacular.  But then fifteen minutes later, you’re reaching for it again.  Then again, stealing more and more sips. Then before you know it, it’s four am and for whatever reason it’s a great time to clean your apartment. Not that you exactly remember what happened between eleven and four.

At seven, you’re climbing out of bed and dragging yourself to work thinking, “I hate black licorice.  How did this happen to me?”  At work you realize that you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth, and it’s nearly like a walk of shame but without the midnight tryst.  I think.

All I really know is that I need to finish this coffee and then brush my teeth because gross.

Fuck.

What am I, 22?  I’m too old for this shit.

Also? I should have considered deodorant this morning.

I can’t help it, it’s what I do.  New plans, procedures, ideas packaged and presented to me, “Mount, this is how we’re going to handle this situation in the future.”  I look at it and within a few seconds respond, “What if . . .” Sometimes it’s welcomed for troubleshooting at work and finding serious loopholes that need to be fixed before we are required to fight a fire.  Sometimes it annoys the crap out of people. Sometimes it freezes me- a temporary paralysis that won’t release its grip until I’ve figured out, what if?  It’s part of my anxiety disorder.

My parents moved to Michigan Wednesday morning and we went to dinner Tuesday.  I figured my aunt and her family would be my surrogate, make sure I’m okay, feed my cats, bail my ass out of jail- whatever.  However, one trivial comment by her sparked a revelation.  Hundreds of things always dormant in my memory jumbled together in a jigsaw box- phrases, words, actions-instantly pieced together.

My aunt is only superficially nice and generous. For fuck’s sake- we lived around the corner from her for two years and I still only saw her a handful of times a year.  Bottom line- she doesn’t like to be inconvenienced.  Even for her niece whose sister committed suicide and parents are moving to Michigan, leaving my aunt as the only family in town.  What an inconsiderate selfish bitch.  No wonder my mom was always pissed at her.  I was naïve in thinking it would change simply because my parents moved.

Then it started.  What if I’m lying in a ditch somewhere and no one even notices I’m gone?  What if I end up in the hospital and have no way to get home except by a $90 cab fare?  What if I have an emergency and need to leave town and don’t have time to line up a few friends to watch my cats?  What if I’m lonely?  What if I get a flat tire or my car breaks down?  What if I lose my job and I need food?  What if I get the flu?  Oh god- they were all remote and improbable until I hit that one.  What if I get the stomach flu and can’t get to the store to get stuff to make me more comfortable because I’m lying on the bathroom floor- crammed between the litter box and toilet, just wishing I’d die?

Logically, I know that I’ll figure it out and I’ll be fine.  But the full weight of how truly on my own I now am squeezed my guts.  The only two people in close proximity who give a fuck about me left.

Ultimately, what can I do?  I can only try to break the “what if” cycle and not worry about it.  And try to befriend one of my neighbors. And keep a huge container of powdered Gatorade handy in case I get the stomach flu and can’t drive the block to Safeway due to basement and attic problems.

Maybe I should get some popsicles too.

Just in case.

Speedy update for all those who are wondering what’s going on:

1)      Living alone is going pretty good, just getting used to bills and stuff. (Seriously Xcel Energy- I hope you fucking die an agonizing death involving maggots.  And then I hope bullet ants eat the maggots and then shit them out and maggots eat it.  And then you go into a vicious maggot-eating maggot crap that used to be Xcel Energy cycle. )

2)      The crack head hippie neighbors who live below me with their adult-wannabe-hip-hop-gangster-felon son, drive me nuts about 75% of the week.  Their constant smoking, screaming matches and unbelievable loudness in general cause me to fantasize about heavy objects falling through my floor and landing on their heads.  Is that bad?  Even though I’m a pacifist, I don’t feel bad about my violent thoughts. . .

3)      I have no internet or speedy computer, a contributing factor for my disappearance.

4)      I’m done hibernating in my apartment in front of Netflix.

5)      My GGBFF (Gay Gemini BFF), JD is moving away next week.  What a jerk.

6)      My commute to work ROCKS.

7)      I’ve done a few awesome spiritual workshops this past month.

8)      I’m beige right now. Call it neutral and coasting, a relief from the rollercoaster ride that is my life.  Or call it flat-lining.  Whatever.

9)      The waterboy quit his job, leaving us with a boring waterboy.  I asked the Universe to have me run into him again if he likes me.  He’s back.  I’m about 99% sure that this means he wants me in every unbiblical and biblical way imaginable.  Well, 99.9% sure.

10)  Parents orphaning me and JD abandoning me aside, I’m doing pretty well right now. Unfortunately, nothing interesting is happening. I’m beige.

11)  I’m  camping in Northern Utah next weekend-close to a 20-hour round trip for 48 hours of camping (meeting my Bozeman friend in Utah).  *sigh* If it were Central or  Southern Utah, I could go stalk Dirty Pirate Hooker on the way there. I need to plan a camping trip over a non-holiday weekend.  By camping, I mean I’d camp in her front yard.  I’d link to her, but my post is lame and I don’t want to insult her until after I stalk her.

That basically sums up my life at the moment.

I woke up this morning feeling morose and my face was wet from crying.  The radio was at full blast and I scrambled to shut it off.  I stared at the ceiling, trying to pluck an image through the fog of my interrupted dream. There was a bed and a suitcase.  What else?

Her face, her shape, the way she moved materialized. I was sitting on her bed with my knees to my chest, pleading with her. She was darting back and forth, dresser to bed, closet to bed.

“Don’t go!”  I pleaded with her

“I have to.”

She stooped down to collect things from the bottom dresser drawer and she carefully packed them into her suitcase.

“Please don’t go, I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I know honey, but I have to go.”

“Why?”

“You won’t understand.”

I watched her finish packing and I sobbed.  Why was she doing this to me?  When she finished she sat next to me and threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly.

“I love you.” she whispered, crying into my neck.

And then I woke up to my alarm, my face wet with tears and the full expanse of the hole she left in my life crushed my chest.

In packing for my move, we’ve had to sort through her stuff – the stuff we didn’t have the strength to deal with at the time so we hid it in boxes and threw it in the basement to deal with later.  The process is stirring up old emotions and ripping scabs off healing wounds.  What do we do with all of this stuff- the only tangible remnants of my baby sister?  The smell of stale Camel cigarettes rising from each opened box takes me back to her and I feel pathetic for wanting to bottle that up because her smell is gone.  A shower curtain, her leather jacket, her music, her cigarettes among miscellaneous artifacts-that’s all that’s left of her.

In my weaker moments when I’m overwhelmed with trying to afford my new life, I remember when my sister had to move. She asked me to move in with her as I was looking for a place too.  Just a few months earlier she had been in a huge fight with her boyfriend and she broke everything he owned, from his glasses to his Nintendo.  I told her no.  Less than a year later she killed herself, due in part to financial strain and not being able to pay her bills.  What if I had moved in with her? For fuck’s sake, I’m her big sister, I was supposed to help take care of her and I didn’t when she needed me most.

And that trigger?  When it’s pushed my body starts to crumble under the weight of the pain and guilt. And then I go numb.

It’s mornings like this- waking up aching for her that makes me realize what I would give for the chance to hug her one more time, to press my nose into her hair and breathe her in.  To hear her voice and her laughter.

God I miss her.

In the business of de-cluttering my life and preparing to move, I’ve come across many things that have been packed for nearly a decade. Yesterday I opened a box containing mementos from relationships past.  Letters and cards from that huge saga that didn’t end until he ran off to marry a Brazilian woman (SLUT!).   Reading these letters used to pain me- knock the wind out of me and leave me crumpled on the floor.  Oh, how I thought I’d never be able to live without him.

I was 21, young and stupid.  He was 10 years my senior.  We’d fight and break up, then end up in a honeymoon period of several months- we did this over and over again for 4 years. He’d worship the ground I walked on and then change.  He’d be distant, cold and withholding.  I’d go absolutely insane and rail against it, trying to manipulate him back to the man I wanted him to be. He would become so condescending with that whole “I’m older, I’m more knowledgeable and experienced than you.  You are immature.”  I told him that if I were his age I wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.

As I approach 32, I’ve come to the realization that he was right.  Experience tempered him and provided him the knowledge that one bad or stressful day wasn’t the beginning of the end. That failing to live up to every single expectation didn’t necessitate a fight and a break up.  What are expectations anyway?   He was a rock, moving and changing very little while I was the current racing around him. I was right too- I wouldn’t put up with his bullshit now.

If I ever have daughters, I will tell them not to settle down in college.  To focus on their grades and play the field and have as many experiences as possible. To be big and mighty and to never hide who they are.  To never let anyone try to break them or domesticate them.  To run and be free and discover themselves.  And if those stupid boys are still chasing them as they approach 25, then they might be worth a second look.

I threw out most of the letters and tokens from boyfriends past, but kept a few cards.  Just to remind me that I made the ground quake under someone’s feet at least a few times.  At least.

Last Sunday my mom and I were driving home from apartment hunting, I looked up and said, “Is that a-”

“Yes it is!” She answered.  We pulled over with 50 other cars under a bridge, trying to decide whether to abandon our car and run for a ditch or to stay and hope that seat belts and airbags would be enough if we were thrown. It wasn’t a huge tornado and it wasn’t in contact with the ground any longer.   However, it started hailing 1 inch diameter stones, which is very bad.  I called my dad and instead of running for the basement stairwell, he grabbed his camera and snapped a few shots. He said it was hard to tell what it was at first, but after watching it for a few seconds, he could see the rotation. (ckick for larger photos)

And just when he was ready to bolt for the basement, it broke up.

There were 5 tornadoes that day and countless funnel clouds.   In my area, the tornado touched and demolished a barn, that’s it.  However, the Southlands Mall in Aurora suffered some awful damage but luckily no one was killed.  It’s been insane lately-this past week we’ve had 3 days of tornadoes and more are expected today and possibly throughout the weekend.   And we don’t even live in Tornado Ally- we’re used to just a couple times a season.

My colleague and I were caught out in the weather today and heard the emergency weather sirens.  We took cover in a stairway, not sure what was going on.  Turned out to be nothing but lightning, however further east on the plains experienced more of this stuff.

The past 3 weeks have been a roller coaster ride, me flying high on relief only to plummet into the depths of anxiety.  Most of my waking time is spent going through my decades worth of crap I’ve had stored at my parents’ forever, sorting for garage sale, charity, toss and recycle. The remaining time is spent in brief, fitful sleep or searching every ad on Craigslist, trying to find a home.

This won’t be a masterpiece in writing, mostly because I’m so tired it literally hurts to keep my eyes open right now. So, here’s a list:

• The plan of me moving out with my friends fell through.  They decided to stay where they are- the landlord lowered their rent and we couldn’t agree on a location anyway.

• After spending a week trying to find other roommates, I submitted an application to rent my own condo.  It has an attached garage, is on the second floor, has a washer and dryer and over 800 sq ft of space. Keep it all crossed for me, people. It seems absolutely perfect for me.  I know they’re doing a background check right now, but I have no idea if I’m competing for it or not.

• Everything is still up in the air.  I need that first piece so I can effectively plan- rent a truck, beg people to help me, plan my possessions for the space so I don’t turn around needing to purchase a replacement.  It’s all so annoying.

• I really want that place, so I couldn’t fall asleep last night as I was so worried about it.

• If this falls through, one of my friends is letting me move in with her. Knowing I have that option is a relief, but it would just be temporary, and I’d pay for the cost of moving twice in a short amount of time. Plus storage. However, after I’m completely alone without any family and no money to visit them, a roommate might be nice.

That is all.

*Buffy, Graduation Day Part Two.

One of the funnest things about having an anxiety disorder is that it sneaks up on you.  It’s always there, lurking beneath the surface- hibernating until triggered to fight or flight. You’re fine, dealing with stressful people, things, situations.  But then when you least expect it you’re completely overwhelmed and you transform into this freak that no one recognizes- least of all you.

Though it may not progress into an anxiety attack, you’ve reached your maximum stress load and anytime the most insignificant event happens, you lose it.  You’re sobbing hysterically, lamenting on how this is far too much to handle and there are crazy impulses you have to fight to control. You obsess over a problem, unable to put it aside even when there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. You toss and turn at night, utterly exhausted and unable to leap into the sweet abyss of sleep.  And when you finally do, you dream about getting into fights with friends, people dying, losing your job, every horrible thing you could imagine happens in your restless dreams.  You wake more exhausted.

When the monster stirs, I take deep breaths, realize this is just my initial reaction, I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.  I’ll be okay.  If I don’t like this bar, this person, this situation I can remove myself from it.  The thought of escape instantly calms me down and then I’m fine. But when I can’t remove myself from the trigger, I turn into a weeping, frail, damsel in distress that needs rescuing. I’m so helpless, so hopeless. Furthermore, a part of me can see what is happening and I am so ashamed.  How can I be this weak?

I spent last week at my sister’s house in Michigan visiting my niece.  Everything went awesome.  I was fine on the plane without anxiety medication.  And then all hell broke loose when I landed. My mom informed me that my dad lost his job and was allowed to retire.  I have to move out ASAP, they don’t want the cats there while they try to sell the house. I have something like a few weeks to find a decent place, pack, move, and work full time.

On top of it all, my parents are going to be more than an hour’s drive away for the first time in my life. They can’t afford to live on my dad’s pension in Colorado so they’re moving to Michigan.  I’ve probably been overly attached to them since my sister died and it will be a good for me to move out. But all of this is so sudden and I have no time to prepare.  Everything is beyond my control.  I need this specific end result, but no time or means to get it.  I’m grasping, clawing, frantic for the situation to go away. Desperate to wake up from this nightmare.  I can’t find the flow, let alone jump into it and allow it to happen, do the Tao, trust that the Universe is conspiring for my greatest good.  I have to make it happen.  And I don’t even know how to choose tires for my car- how can I do all this alone?

Needless to say after two days of crying at the slightest irritation, crying every time I’m alone or overwhelmed with how to force it all together, I finally had to go to the doctor.  And much to my dismay I asked for medication to help with my stress and anxiety so I can sleep and maybe not lose my job too.  That’s probably a good place to start.  Now for the next step.  Whatever that is.

P.S.   Did I mention my computer is dead? I’m limited to a few stolen moments online here and there.  Nothing more.