Gone Girl

Oh David Fincher, you magnificent bastard. Once again, you’ve created a wonderfully moody and atmospheric film for us to enjoy. And did I.

It was a spur of the moment decision to go to a movie and a tie between Annabelle and Gone Girl. After seeing the preview, a mystery thriller seemed more like what the night called for. I am a sucker for a a good murder mystery.

On the day of their fifth anniversary, Nick comes home to find his wife Amy vanished under suspicious circumstances. The story of her disappearance is interweaved with entries from her journal, giving an interesting perspective of the decay of the relationship. The “did he or didn’t he” scenario is one all too familiar in headlines, with the revelations throughout being almost predictable, especially if you have ever watched a decent amount of Investigation Discovery. The twists delighted me in a wicked sort of way, but there’s no way I can expound upon that without giving away major spoilers.  My only major complaint is with the audio. I don’t know if it was the theater we were in or the film itself, but the soundtrack (which was once again a collaboration between Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross and perfect in every other sense) often dominated over the dialogue in flashback scenes. I’m guessing this was more of a tech issues with the sound system since these are seasoned filmmakers involved.

Final grade: A-

Here we go again

I am so sick of feelings. Wait, let me start out by saying that 90% of the time I am completely okay. I’m feeling good, getting shit done and living my life the way it was intended to be lived. That other 10% is where it gets shifty and annoying. It’s the stupidest thing that sets me off too, so I am usually a mix of angry and upset when I’m having a moment. These are the moments where I turn to my therapist and say “I don’t get it”. Luckily, she knows a thing or two about feelings and divorce and assures me that no matter how much I want this, no matter that this is a much needed change, there is still an emotional tie. There is still a grieving process.
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This grieving process is bullshit, but apparently I’m supposed to acknowledge my feelings and let them exist. That may be the hardest part of all of this – allowing my feelings to exist. It’s like letting that annoying kid who nobody likes have a turn with the ball because your mom lectured you about playing nice, but that doesn’t mean you’re not sitting there rolling your eyes and sighing and waiting for their turn to be over and silently cursing yourself for either being an obedient kid or having a stupid guilt complex. That’s what my feelings are like.
I’m also convinced that this week was completely knocked off track after an incident involving a friend and too many Olive Garden breadsticks that ended in a solemn vow to never, ever drive an hour while famished to an Olive Garden.

But the OG incident threw me off my running game, and I overcompensated with strength training and couldn’t bend my arms for two days. That was always fun when something got knocked over or onto the floor and my arms were essentially useless. I’d stare helplessly at the object and declare “Well, that is where it lives now!” As I mentioned lots of times, running and exercise keep me sane and help get out those boiling over emotions. I’m sure there is a scientific explanation for that helping, I just don’t feel like google. I’d probably ended up on WebMD and it would tell me that I have cancer or Lyme disease. Damn WebMD is such a downer.

I swear, I’m going to stop bitching about feelings one of these days. Today is clearly not that day.

Uproar Music Festival

I was recently told by someone close to me that I need to make the effort to have more fun. This whole summer has been me keeping myself occupied. So when a friend of mine was all “Uproar?”, I was on board. There are a good number of bands playing this tour, which was easily well worth the price of a ticket. My one hesitation about going was that I needed to avoid someone who I knew would be there. Long story short, I went on one date with this guy. We got along great, had a lot in common, talked for hours…all that good stuff. At the end of the date, however, he told me “I love you” as if that is a normal thing you’d tell someone after date #1. And when I side-eyed him and stated the obvious response most people would have in this situation, he insisted that we had a deep connection. I was all

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have no time for that sort of clingyness now or….ever, really. So I was not looking forward to running into him and possibly explaining my disappearing act. Cause, awkward. But luckily, we did not see him. I mean, it’s like one person out of a thousand or so, giving me pretty good chances of avoidance.
Anyway, we saw most of Buckcherry but booked it near the end of their set to claim our spot for the main acts. The first one up was Pop Evil, who I was familiar with but hadn’t seen before. They rocked my non-existent socks off. Seriously. SO GOOD.
I prefer the original version of this song, but this video shows all the bearded glory of the bass player, which is lacking in the original version. Rawrrrrr.

“Silence and Scars” is easily becoming my favorite song off of Onyx, even if it makes me a bit melodramatic. But I need a little melodrama now and then to release a lot of pent up emotion.

I know I’ve been wrong; I don’t have all the answers

I’m stuck in this hell somewhere in between

What I want and what I need; I don’t have a good reason

Cause now that you’re gone only silence and scars remain

Also, I would like to point out that this video was taken on the wrong side of Matt Dirito. Too far. Not A+. Would reconsider buying again.

Next on the list was Skillet. Don’t worry, I have no interest in fawning over their bassist. So, Skillet puts on a damn fine show but it turns out they are a Christian rock band. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I find myself usually switched off as soon as I find out a band is a Christian one. I suddenly worry that maybe I’m being brainwashed and I don’t know it. Subliminal messages. However, since I have been a lot more spiritual than I’ve been in a decade, I decided to let myself enjoy the band without worrying I’d become a Jesus freak. There are worse things, after all. When they started with this song, my friend turned to me and said it was definitely a song for me.

Musical therapy.

The final band on this stop of the show was Godsmack, whom I had wanted to see for quite some time. Also, they’ve been around 20 years and I cannot wrap my head around that. Godsmack was awesome, of course. Fireballs and bongos.

My only regret over this concert is that I was unable to get a picture of Braveheart of the Mosh Pit. The mosh pit formed rather quickly during Godsmack and grew to an impressive size. It wasn’t so much people moshing that made the pit so large, it was the ridiculous perimeter other concert goers were giving the moshers to avoid being jumped on. But there was one guy, who was either completely smashed or had just ran out of fucks to give, who defied all common sense of the mosh pit. He walked right into the middle of the pit, oblivious to the mayhem all around him, and stood there drinking his beer. I was all “That crazy bastard is my personal hero.” If someone ran into him, he’d regain his footing and give them a quick glance over the shoulder. He did eventually succumb to the draw of jumping into other grown people for kicks and whipped his shirt right off and dove in. Bonus entertainment.

Ups and Downs

I am slowly getting to a place where I feel like my head isn’t spinning and my world isn’t crashing on me- on most days, anyway. That is overly dramatic but having the rug pulled out from under me felt overly dramatic. I have been taking my feelings out for runs. In running news, I have shaved a minute and a half off my time. Woo woo. Emotions are a powerful fuel.
When I’m not running, I stay busy. I have to keep my mind occupied to shut my thoughts up. I don’t know where the past few months have gone. Everything is one big blur. The ups and downs on this emotional rollercoaster are exhausting, but I still get hit with insomnia on most nights. I think the overall drain is making me even more emotional. I’ve had a few nights where I throw myself on my bed the second I walk through the door and cry for a good 15 minutes before collecting myself and carrying on. I wish I could understand why something that is ultimately a good thing still causes so much turmoil.
Honestly, if I could deal with the negative feelings that insist on popping into my head, I think I would be okay. But all that self-doubt, self-loathing and the like are such asshole feelings that they drown everything else out. It doesn’t matter how many times someone tries to convince me otherwise, I can’t shake the feeling of not having been “good enough”. And having that feeling angers me so much. Then I run some more. It’s an odd cycle, but I suppose it helps. It’s gotta be better than crawling into bed and refusing to get out. I sure as hell don’t have time for that sort of thing.
Baby steps. I know somewhere there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Journaling

I recently pulled my old journal out of hiding and decided it was time to help write through my feelings– which is not as hokey as it sounds, I swear. Even better, I went through older entries to reflect. It was cringe-worthy at time, but the main thing I noticed is that I was not happy for a long time. It’s possible I didn’t write about the happy moments, but I seemed to be just torn about things. I had stopped writing at a certain point in the past 8 years. My journal was a source of contention. If I’m upset, I’d much rather jot down all those feelings as they come out instead of unleashing them in a heated discussion and run the risk of saying something I’d regret. I’m not sure if that’s a healthy way of dealing with the onslaught of emotions but it helped me. The problem was the lack of boundaries. I don’t write down in my journal with the thoughts of it having an audience. Eventually I grew tired of the invasion of that confessional and I put it away. Writing in it again feels wonderful. While I enjoy blogging, there are messy feelings that I would much rather keep in private. I’m hoping not only to scribble away my unhappy feelings but to make note of the happy ones.

Pippa “Pipsqueak” Wiggleton

This is my latest foster, Pippa. Or Pips. She was a Piper, but she’s classier than that.

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She’s 6 mos now and is a pit bull terrier mix. Very deadly. Terrifying. Like a mouse. She’s become best friends with Peanut, although he complains that she kicks him in the face and snores too loudly.

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She is really a sweetheart. Except when she refuses to come inside and makes me pick her up and carry her back into the house.

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And sometimes she refuses to get off the bed. I thought there wasn’t a dog who loved bed more than Bella. Then I met Pippa. I have to drag her off the bed just so I can get on with my day.

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Pippa will be available for adoption soon through Louie’s Legacy Animal Rescue. She is a snuggle pup and such a sweet, goofy dog.

Emotional Manipulators

A friend of mine shared this recently and it resonated strong with me:
8 Ways to Protect Yourself From Emotional Manipulation

Emotional manipulators have no sense of accountability. They take no responsibility for themselves or their behavior – it is always about what everyone else has “done to them”.

I have dealt with several of these manipulators and this part is always the same. I am always the bad guy, the mean one, the one who doesn’t care enough. Nothing is ever good enough for an emotional manipulator and they act like they are owed something, despite whatever bullshit they dump on someone. I owe them nothing. Not my compassion, not my kindness and certainly not my friendship. Those are given to those who truly deserve it.

Artifacts of a Life

How does one file away ten years?
It’s one thing to move on and never look back, but no one mentions what is to be done with the random shit lying around, waiting to remind me of all these feelings I’m trying to shut up. The wedding dress is easy; I found an organization to donate it to. And honestly I probably would have donated it anyway regardless of the divorce because what am I gonna do with a wedding dress? I’d much rather see it get reused and have a purpose. But what am I supposed to do with wedding photos and stuff like that? It was easy the first time I got divorced. Given the circumstances, I was completely fine setting all remnants into a bonfire and being done with it. I could purge myself completely of that person.

But this time…I just can’t do that. I mean, I could, but it doesn’t seem like the correct solution, or at least not like a non-emotional one. Do I just box them up for Peanut to have at some point? Do I toss them? Burn them anyway? I really don’t know. A wedding album does not have any use for me any more other than trudging up feelings of heartache, and I have no need for more of that either. I don’t want to revisit the past.

Did anyone write a manual on this stuff, cause I could certainly use it now?

Distance

I am finding that it was easier to deal with certain feelings 1200 miles away. I’m sure that’s the novelty of being out of town. Business or vacation, things feel far enough away to let my guard down and relax.
Today was a little more challenging than I’ve had in a while. I have this stupid emotional side trying to self-sabotage my progress and the logical, rational side doing everything it can to shut those emotions up. Once again, I am yearning for a switch.
I feel so drained and worn out lately. It’s most likely related to my just coming back from traveling, but there are moments when I think “Shit. I am on my own here.” In all honesty, I am never truly alone, but there is a tiny bit of fear and panic that creeps in now and then. When those feelings start to take over, every little thing feels like a pang to my heart. There’s not else to do but try to push those emotions aside and reassure myself that I’ll be fine.
It just takes patience, which I seem to be running short of these days.

Words of Wisdom

I have been told many things by many friends and family as they encouraged me to pick up and move forward with life. I am fortunate to be surrounded by such amazing people; people who are insistent that I am a much stronger person than I feel sometimes and people who seem to know how to put things in perspective exactly when I need it most. I definitely feel re-focused post-trip, plus I’ve been keeping busy which helps. Anyway, this bit of advice was shared with me in one of my less focused moments and it resonated so strongly with me:
 

Love is the thing that gets you through this. Love for your kids, for yourself…Love is what causes you to do what you have to do, no matter how hard it is or how much it hurts.