Recalling Pineapples

     This post kind of feels like it's coming out of nowhere - which is partially true.  I had a memory come to me in the form of a vivid dream that literally woke me up out of a deep sleep.  I wondered why my brain brought up that memory for.  Was it trying to remind me about someone or trying to prove something to me?  I realize I probably sound a little loopy, but if you've ever had a dream so vivid you wake up feeling a little guilty for something you did in it, then you can understand where I ’ m coming from.  Ever since waking up from this dream, these stories have been dying to come out of me.  As I fall asleep, my brain rewrites over and over again the first section you'll read here.      I think part of why I've put off sharing this is because I've always been a little unsure of where the line is between appropriate and inappropriate.  Where the line is between telling my stories, and telling other people ’ s stor...

My depressed means that the wrong statement can send me over the edge My depressed makes me want to crawl into a hole and hide My depressed makes me recoil at the thought of physical contact I’ll turn mirrors to face each other or the wall I’ll rush from work to home to avoid the eyes of strangers Who probably don’t see me anyway But my depression makes me feel like a giant My depression makes me feel like an ogre My depression makes me want to do whatever I have to do to make up to you whatever I did wrong to you But my depression also makes me feel unworthy of forgiveness My depression makes me feel incapable of helping or fixing My depression makes me push you away, Because my depression says I don’t deserve you My depression says I’m awful and terrible and you could do so much better My depression does not want attention My depression wants to be alone Because I don’t want you to see me like this, to feel like this, to experience this My depression doesn’t keep m...

For the last couple of weeks, my current boyfriend, Todd, and I have had this bizarre back and forth. As he starts talking about his upcoming ten-day trip to California - talking about his lists his plans, or to remind me of when his flight out and his flight in is, I am wracked with anxiety. Eventually I'll tell him, "Okay, I need to stop thinking about this because it's stressing me out." "Why is it stressing you out? You're not going, and I'm not stressed." "I don't know, I just am, and I need to back burner this for now." I usually make a joke about how I don't know how to go on a vacation, because the only vacation I've ever been on was a family one that we took when I was twelve. Sometimes I blame my anxiety on my Type A personality and how I need to feel like I'm in control of everything. But I finally put my finger on it. The last time I had a significant other going on a long-ish trip, it was a disaster. Yes, I'...

We had only been dating for about three months, and a concert had been announced for December.  Winter in the Midwest means the weather is unpredictable.  Making plans that require long drives – or driving at all really – need to be taken seriously.  So, I asked you weeks in advance if it would be worth the price of concert tickets if it meant driving over an hour away in December.  You said it would be.  That any price, any drive, any location was worth me being able to see my favorite band.  I asked if maybe you could drive since I’d be swallowing the price of the tickets.  I asked if maybe we could get a hotel room; we’d go to the concert on Friday night, sleep over, and spend the next day exploring a city neither of us had spent much time in.  You agreed wholeheartedly that it sounded like a great time.   I looked forward to that concert for weeks. I counted down the days, I was excited for a little getaway with you where we could unplu...