The Wordsmith

I was thinking about the way I write, the way I talk...... me.  Sometimes  from growing up a good Catholic Girl, I think I am supposed to write a way that is according to  "The Rules." Not mine, just so I can stay middle of the road,  not to shake things up too much. Sometimes the real me is a little too real, or boring. I definitely swing either way. The way I talk, the  people closest to me.... know I just let it rip. What I think is funny, deep, whatever it may be.  Unfortunately, I have a slight fascination with certain cuss words. When I said them as a child, I got soap down the throat for saying just the  mild ones.
Makes sense I would go for some reactionary words later. I am still chuckling thinking about what old senile nuns would do, hearing it.  I must not get out much.
Things like that have always made me laugh. The price was so steep, so when you got in trouble for anything in Catholic School, or at home, you'd better be willing to pay. It wasn't that I dug paying, it's just that I always loved the reactions, and could live a while on  them. So pleasurable to me, especially coming from so much repression. So, life's simple pleasures for this gal, an occasional cuss word still has me sheepishly grinning that I am going to The Confessional for it..... for certain.

I have always played with words, much to my Mothers dismay. She was a Teacher, speaking  English  correctly being critical to her life .  It wouldn't make sense if I didn't say "Ain't" constantly. Unglue her with her hillbllly daughter's ways. She is so literal, that it made the game all that much more fun. Content of what we were saying mattered so little usually, and with six children, it was a free-for-all.  Usually as long as we said it right, that was good enough. But boy oh boy  did  those ears perk up when we threw a  few choice cuss words around. She seemed to have a spark in her eye...... get the biggest friggin bar of
Ivory Soap known to mankind out. No worn down ones with this gal. She had a mission.
She was going to teach us Heathens  a lesson. That soap was crammed so far down our throat.
Good times at the Gagliardi household.

I actually am realizing as I write this, I have a lot to thank that Old Dame for. Through her constant criticism, it actually made me play with words. Have fun with them. I have always enjoyed
words so much. I never realized the backwards gift she gave me. It takes what it takes.
Sometimes to create, we have to come at it from a different angle. Maybe I needed an angle like her to be me. Not one I would wish on the feint of heart, yet somehow I am starting to see, just this year....
is it in spite of? What would be the proper term and who would care. I am here, I have figured it out, or am well on my way, and I am leaving the Ghosts behind. Ain't that something?

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall.......

I haven't written  in a long time. No desire. it happens when it happens, usually in spurts.
Today would be born completely out of pain. I am riding this wave until the finish. I know it will be a biggun. What kicked it in to overdrive.....fear. Nothing less, bone chilling, gut wrenching, feel like puking your guts kind. So  here I  type, ready to slay another dragon. This one is one of my own making.
I thought it was "Out there,"  but alas.... this sucker belongs to me.

I have reunited with a childhood friend. It has been wonderful. Great fun reminiscing. Sharing stories of past times, our families, etc. I have enjoyed this time immensely. What I didn't realize about myself, is the separate life I keep. I really got it today more than ever. The Private Lives of Clare Spencer. I have lived them in one form or another for so long, I had just forgotten. Always representing the truth, the picture I wanted people to see..... depending on what crew I was with. I am sure many people show the many faces of their lives. This is probably quite normal and healthy. Called boundaries. Some things are appropriate  with one person, totally inappropriate with another. What I realized today through uncontrollable tears, my fear of being accepted for me. All the way through. My story. Who I am. Not the glossy, cleaned up version. The one that I can make so normal, funny, whatever I need to.  The real me. Foibles, warts, fears, pain, and all.

Yes I love a good laugh, in fact live for it. Thrive on it, crave it. Get's me through everything. Literally has saved my life. But the real me, is one intense little lady. Built on some very intense experiences, that quite frankly I wouldn't  wish on anyone. I am so glad I had them, though. They have made me~ who I am.

I am stronger, wiser, much more compassionate.  I was one very lazy gal pal. My experiences shook me to the core, and then some. I was supposed to be shaken, just as I was today. I tell everyone else to love themselves. Yet I lack so much compassion for me. Today I came face to face with terror.
For being me, all the way through. My friend may soon see all my stories I have written, not just the two funny one's  I sent him. I will be revealed for my humanity. My weaknesses.  For me. This had me very frightened. Yes, I am still uncomfortable. The truth is, I finally understood, as I am supposed to......
it is time to face myself. Obviously imperfect, but a throw away  as I am suggesting. No.
Mirror, mirror on the wall...... am I still lovable after all? Absolutely.

Looking Up

I am making a conscious choice, today right now. I am walking down a new road. Creating the life of my dreams. I have been off to a pretty good start, I think I just forgot to look up.

I have had my nose to the grindstone for so long, I didn't see the life I have created.

It is coming together. It has been bound tightly with guilt and shame. They no longer fit.

Now I see love, trust, faith, endurance, and beauty replacing the former occupants... bye bye.

The things I placed so much importance on, will now be placed neatly on a back shelf.

I have a renewed zest in health. Imagine that, tired of feeling sick? Hmmmm? 

It seems like a new way of life and acceptance I possibly feared, is coming to me. I have fought the quiet. Today when my hubby and I were  at   Home Depot, I asked him if I were hyper.  He just laughed and said of course. I wondered why no one gave me the memo. Isn't that funny that I don't see myself as hyper. I'm not really sure what I have seen myself as. Many different things, I suppose.

I am antsy and have a hard time sitting still, my mind goes a million miles a minute ,with one idea after another..... I exhaust the poor fellow. Seems normal to me. "Two speeds," he calls me.

On and off. I keep going until I crash. Time for another life of balance and kindness.

Knowing it is perfectly okay to rest. I have fought this my whole life. I have never been a good at rest person. The more tired I am, the more work I do. As if that will teach me, snap out of it!

Feel like a complete failure. I have always been jealous of people who go on vacation, and rest.

Walk on the beach. I come back from vacation more exhausted than when I left.

Time to learn the fine art of rest and relaxation. People come over our house and say it feels like vacation. I look at them like they are on crack. It  has been anything but that for me, for Ray because it has taken so much to create an atmosphere of beauty and serenity, from nothing. Less than nothing.

Today however, something changed. Raym and I went out and bought the simplest Weber kettle BBQ.

The gas BBQ we hardly used ~I think I know why. It didn't smell good. That wonderful BBQ smell

that only a real one can provide. We had so much fun.  Music was playing all afternoon in the backyard.

Matt and his friend were swimming, and all seemed right with our world. We had such a nice dinner, followed by the best s'mores. The sweet simple  things in life. I looked at my family, and my heart  welled  with such love and gratitude. This world I am creating, I don't think I need to worry.

I looked up today. It is here ~ now. I have done the leg work. Faith and gratitude go a long way.

Looking up is never a bad way to go. It was time, and boy  am I glad. What a sight.

My Convictions

I felt certain I was ready to make this decision. I take nothing lightly. Too much has gone on from the past for such flippant behavior. This past week has been Boot Camp. Hell Week. I have not written in weeks. I have had so many feelings brewing inside, I just didn't want to add more.
What I have is insidious. Only writing this, do I understand the trickery. Several things I bought into.
That I had come so far, I had done enough work. Let go of enough demons, I could downshift just a little. I always talk to my Doctor first. I decided I would self diagnose. Just a tiny bit. I know why. I did not honor myself. All the experts, The Naturalists on the Internet. Believe me, there is one every where I look. Until I saw Ron Howard  and Glenn Close again,  talking about real life. Through a little Angel who posted Mental Health issues today. Very uncool. Treat every one with herbs..... natural concoctions. Until it comes to YOU.

I am the "YOU."  This is my story. I am Bipolar. I played so slightly with fire, lowering my dosage of medication. Not very smart. Even when I write that word, I want to take it back and scream no, it's not me. I'm writing about somebody else. There's been a mistake. Just  say it's depression, sounds better.
I could feel my emotions starting to change. I figured it was only down by a third. I had conquered this beast. Until the depression and tears came flooding in~ again. FAST. I immediately started back a week later. I have allowed myself, this is one hundred percent on me~ to buy into societies belief that you can just take natural  remedies to cure all that ails. Guess what? I feel rage. Wait until it happens to you.
I am past being polite. Politically correct. I have been a good girl my whole life. I have listened, tried,
and done every possible method under the sun. Lighten up and let there be enough room for both sides.
Quit making people feel ashamed for needing help and not doing it  one way. Please.
That is the most narrow way thinking in existence. Why do you think people hide out in their rooms,
homes, darkened hovels? Judgement~  deciding that if they can't get better the natural way. Bullshit. Sometimes chemicals are just off. Are you going to blame someone with cancer, tell them if they don't do it naturally, they are bad, wrong? I am so tired of being ashamed, towing the line.
I will not hide who I am anymore. I have survived and thrived BECAUSE  of medication.
I tried every way known to mankind first for years. Thought and planned my death every day during that time. Just didn't work for me. Got healthier though. I love doing both. Still do. Just not
 going back there, that world~ to be anyones friend. To say I did it naturally. I am me. I am standing up proud, strong. I am a success story. I have come through. Not just come through, I have flourished.
Because of the help of my medication, therapy, psychiatrist..... most of all: LOVE. SUPPORT.
BELIEF IN ME. REBUILDING A HUMAN FROM THE GROUND UP. This is my life.
I am proud of me. I would never again want to be around someone who does not accept me for me.
That is my declaration. I have a family that is healthy and happy. Thriving. What more could I ask for?

What I Want

What amazing words there are in our vocabulary..... to actually say what I want. Not what I need, or what I can do for you. Need is entirely different than want. I need sleep. I need to brush my teeth. I need to eat and drink. But what do I want? That has not been one I have focused on too much in my life. Much more, what  others wanted so my life could run smoothly. That sounds odd, but it was the way it worked for me. It kept the fear down, the bugs out. The boogeyman at bay. I read minds, anticipated needs from a very early age.  Of course it was all fear based. I needed to have things controlled. Work for me in a very out of control household. I was not a disciplined child. I have become an extremely disciplined adult. This has taken many years to change the bad habits I grew up with. Work in progress.

How that came to be, I think desperation, and there was nowhere else to turn. I had to clean up my life.
Quite simply there was no one left to blame. It was not working,  very seriously out of control and not getting better any time soon. I was lazy, and was relatively okay with it from an early age.
I thought studying was stupid, when I could be out having a good time. Hmmm, good thinking!
No wonder I am such a late bloomer. I thought smart people rocked, had deep respect, envied them like nobody's  biz. Just never in this lifetime saw myself in that category, and no one was racing to tell me
I was Einstein. So.......... I took a very different road. The hard headed kind. I didn't know that all roads eventually lead you back to where you originally came from. Sooner or later you have to face what plagues you. I called it my "Retarded Gene." I truly feared I was retarded. I felt like something was wrong with my brain. My mother had told me time and time again, she spilled  hot water from the spaghetti on her stomach, when she was pregnant with me. Could that be when the gene kicked in?
In no way  am I mocking anyone with special needs.  I truly felt like I was special needs.

Only later in life in High School, when my teachers would comment that I had good writing skills,
did I begin to feel slightly humanoid. Of course at the time I did not believe them {my teachers}
when they told me to go to College to  be a Writer. I just thought they were on crack. {Well, maybe not crack, whatever was popular in the horse and buggy day.}I never heard a peep from my mom about College, or any silly thing about being smart. These teachers were definitely on something.
So in one ear ~out the other. Enough of that nonsense. Writing, who would ever want to read my stuff?
I hid it, kept it very close to the vest for many, many years. Actually until this year.
I set it free. Made it public. How many years later? I have never taken a writing class since High School.
It has been the Clare Spencer College  of one. I have been gun shy ~  about being self taught.
Didn't know the rules about Real Writers. Until I finally got out there and figured out there are no rules. I had to just learn, be a part of it. See for myself. Everything I took in College, interestingly~
not writing. Hmmmm? Immersed myself in everything Psychology. Just didn't want to pick that scab.

Here I am. All these years later. Can't stop writing. Some will like it. Some won't. That is no longer my problem. I write for me. To tell my truth. That's all I can do. These are my feelings , my experiences.
This is who I am, as I go. This is what I want. Simply to be me.

It's My Turn

Starting over again with anything is never easy. I feel like everything in my life is about that right now.
Take two ~ with my health. I am humbled because I am exhausted again. I went to My Ear , Nose and
Throat Doctor today. He performed  surgery on me almost three years ago, which changed my life significantly. I could not breathe. I had gone to many Doctors through the  years, all passing me along.
"Nothing out of the ordinary." "You are fine." Meanwhile I would get one infection after the other.
This has gone on my entire life. When I was sixteen, due to so many sore throats and infections I finally got my tonsils removed. Didn't change much, but I got to eat lot of ice cream.  I was thrilled I lost ten pounds during that time.

When I was three, I had  gotten pneumonia so badly I almost died. I was in LA Children's Hospital for two weeks. So began my immune system challenge. Having been given so many antibiotics through the years  and never getting to the true source of the problem, the problems merely multiplied. By the time I had gotten to my Doctor I was a mess, and no longer believed I could be helped. He is one of the leading in the Country for what I needed. Fancy that. He listened and understood. He got it. He seemed to get me. He told me I would be able to breathe again, I wasn't crazy. Music to my ears.

I had the surgery, and the quality of my life improved substantially. He also tested me for mono. I found out I had gotten that as a teen, that was part of my exhaust. Also tested me for Epstein Barr. Tested positive. He has a protocol, that he figured out while at USC that helps people with Epstein Barr regain strength and  energy. While he was in the Navy, as a surgeon it was used, so he brought it into his practice here in Los Angeles. Lucky us that he figured this stuff out. He is very compassionate.
 I began taking it. A shot every month that helped with energy. It seemed to be working fine.
I later decided to have mercury removed from my teeth. I knew for some time that had been a problem for me. I made the appointment, and  soon began this process. Again, another compassionate doctor.
I had seven removed in one sitting. One of the most grueling experiences I have been through.
I had two caesareans~ this was right up there. It was a very tough process. The exhaust on my body from the toxins, for months  after made me question many things.  I had this procedure this past September. It was done by an extremely competent Dentist, trained  specifically for this kind of procedure. I wouldn't have gone to just anyone, I wanted someone who really knew about mercury.
So, to be back at this state I am once again, this past month is very upsetting and mystifying.

I went to the ENT Doctor today again mainly just to pay a bill, stopping by it had been awhile. I love all the gals who run the office. Life has a way of challenging what you believe, where you are at.
I decided to stick around for an impromptu appointment. My Doc informed me it had been almost a year since I had last been in. Tension was in the air. We have always gotten along pretty well.
I felt his anger. Or was it frustration? I knew I had to do it my way, as always. He has been incredibly good to my family. We have been very grateful. I was not trying to be disrespectful in any way. I just needed to try something different. So today was our show down. Whoa. Two fiery people.
I  just didn't want to be back in a Doctor's Office again. I have lived so much of my life in those walls.
How could I explain that to him? I needed to fly out of the nest and try it on my own.

I  got some lunch and waited for the Pharmacy downstairs from his office to reopen. I felt so defeated and alone as I sat in  a small cafe, listening to hipsters talking about the movies they were working on..... producing. I knew Ray would have laughed and said, "Shoot me,  it feels like I am at work." We would have laughed about those "Hollywood Types" he has to have meetings with every single day. Instead I just sat there and said "shut up" in my head. A very weak shut up, I was feeling sorry  for myself, and quite lethargic. Time stood still as I fiddled with my food. I wished I was with a friend at that moment. All my independence and I can do everything alone.......I was feeling it all. Just needed a friend.

So back I went, prescription shot in hand, getting ready for that wonderful  needle in the hip.
Memories. I think I have fought this so much, because I could not will my body well. I have done
unbelievable amounts of letting go, especially since October. Body battering~ non stop.
Perhaps that is the point. I haven't stopped. Writing, releasing, feeling....... bleeding my soul.
My body is just fried. Any humans would be, but mine,  did not have this kind of energy in the first place. The twenty pounds I have gained, I sure am not digging. I do not like being a chubbette. I want to be back in my cute clothes. My basic black are not cutting it. Summer is coming.
Part of the weight gain has been feeling safe, while doing this work. The other part only now I am really recognizing, I am scared. Having let go of so many of my fears that have haunted me, I want to feel safe in my body all the way. I have exposed so much of me. My truths, my secrets, my life.
My little extra cushion has helped.   I have to face my feelings without stuffing my feelings, vomiting them, putting extra weight around my body to protect myself. I am here to protect me. I am more than capable of this. It is okay to be female. It is not a crime. I am not bad for it. It is okay to want to attempt to feel pretty. The Pretty Police aren't going to come after me and write me up for not being pretty.

I am who I am. I look how I look. I have never  really known how I looked. It has always been veiled
by voices from the past of anger, hatred, disdain. Monster images have always floated before me when I looked in a mirror. I have prided my self with wit and humor. Being a do~er. A pleaser.
Never just for me. Could never imagine that in the past. Today that is all changing. I believe my health shall, too. I am enough. I have done enough. I really can't do anymore right now, my body is screaming that. Somebody else can pick up the torch, for now. I have kept it burning a long time.
I need to just sit and watch the glow, simply bask in it. That is how I will heal,  I KNOW IT.
Enough Clare. You have done your job to date, and you will do it again. Time to rest. Heal.
Enough humble pie. I have had a lifetime of it. I am declaring, it's my turn.

Comfort Of Friends

   Last night I slept better than I have in a long time. I still woke up in the middle of the night.
But I was finally able to go back to sleep and feel like a human being. I know that is for many reasons.
Yesterday was a turning point for me. Having gone to Linda, my friend and Kinesiologist~who always helps me figure whats up when my body goes haywire. My body had gone haywire for about a month, but I was ignoring all the signs~ again. She quickly and accurately accesses the situation, and brings my fear down. The reason to begin with I felt like I was the walking dead~ my electrolytes were too low.
I could barely move. The pain of Fibromyalgia has been more severe than usual. She informed me my alkaline/ acid balance in my food was off. Time to change again. I am used to changing constantly.
Severe allergies, like I have said in the past.... too  many things to talk about that have happened to my body in this process of "Healing." I just usually don't say a word. Would scare most people off or bore
them to death, or the usual~just get over it. So I usually have said nothing through the years, kept to myself. My friends literally are the people who treat me. Chiropractors, doctors, because they understand   what my body goes through.  Yesterday was the first time I wrote about Fibromyalgia.  An old friend from grade school  lovingly told me she had very similar things in her life.  I can't tell you how less alone I felt.

I am realizing  more than ever the comfort of friends, being able to really communicate.
Say what is on your mind. I have always done it in my own home. My husband and children and I freely
express this. It is safe and necessary to build a healthy and happy home. It has taken many years to learn.
I have been gun shy in relationships, because my high need to say how I feel, good bad and in between.
This only positive shit is just not real. It get's you nowhere, and limits you. Darkness and light, yin and yang. Balance. It all is part of life. Twenty six years of marriage~ if we were all smiles, well that is funny in itself for anyone who has been married. But it comes with the territory. You get the complete package.
Everything, just like with kids. Matt is almost 25. I have been a parent for a while now. There are ups and downs. You just take the ride. Darkness falls and than the morning comes. It's how life works.

I have built a relationship recently with my sister, where there was once complete darkness, devastation.
I saw no light coming. We had one of the best lunches at The Cheesecake Factory yesterday, than I think we have ever had. I saw her in present moment, present time, for I think the very first time. Really.
Who she is today. It's been building up to that. There was just so much pain and unfinished history between us. She had softened. Changed. It has taken us months of both letting our guards down, working out the kinks. I think yesterday was the reward as we walked over to the mall afterwards,
into  Borders. Looking at Cookbooks~ James Taylor was playing in the back ground. I thought,
this is pretty good. We haven't done this in a billion years. I was happy. Such a simple act.
Two sisters in a bookstore together. These two sisters hadn't done this in a good fifteen years.

The same two sisters who were roommates, best friends. It was the three of us, when I started seeing my husband twenty eight years ago. The same two girls who would have Happy Hour for dinner at restaurants and laugh. We never had enough money, and never wanted to cook. There was always food at Happy Hour. Were each others Maids - of- Honor in our  weddings. Than distance came.
It would take many years to find our way back. This was the year. I never would have believed it could have happened......EVER. Miracles do. Forgiveness, growing up. Finding the true comfort of friends.
I look forward to all the catching up we have. Melding our families together. Really learning to trust.
We both want the same thing. I'd say we are off to a pretty good start. We weren't so different after all.