going with the flow, swimming upstream, and resting on the shore

there are times in my life when i’m just going with the flow, doing my thing, comfortable with life and stuff until i realize i’m not in the right place, i’m in the wrong branch of the river, so to say. so i have to swim upstream, dodging obstacles and dealing with the heavy current so i can get back to where i need to be and then go with the flow again after taking a break hanging out on the shore. there has been a lot of swimming upstream these past two months.

at the end of july, i packed up all my things, threw my bed out of my window, and moved my cocoon into my backpack so that i could close the door on the richmond era of my life. i knew it was time to leave, to go to something, somewhere new with my family of choice. two months later and i’m still in the liminal stage between eras.

up until last week, i’d been in suffolk with my bestie, who’s been letting me cocoon with her while we plan our next big adventure to colorado. last monday, she and her husband and i took a little vacation to the virginia beach oceanfront. sleeping with the door open to the sounds of the ocean is one of my favorite things. it was a good week despite our weird moods. bestie was dealing with / processing the shitty week or so we’d had back at her house and i was hormonal and hangry and wanted to eat all the things. that was one of my ways, i guess, of processing and dealing with everything.

i didn’t expect the time in suffolk helping bestie begin the stages of closing the door on her era in that house to take such emotional work. it’s been exhausting. the week we left was like the white tip of a tidal wave. once she was more clued in on our colorado plans, bestie’s mom wrote me a five-page letter telling me she doesn’t think bestie and hubby are ready for such a big move so far away from family. that we should get a place somewhere closer. that my great need for change is pushing them into a situation that will be disastrous because they need more time to prepare, to practice. she accused me of taking advantage of bestie’s ‘vulnerability’ because she can’t say no to me. i was heartbroken by her perspective, her accusation. i sobbed a lot. drank a whole bottle of wine by myself. (unusual for me, i’m a smoker, not a drinker.) one night my favorite pipe randomly broke and i lost it and cried for like an hour because i missed my bed and my cats and my richmond people and i hate it when people are mad at me and i just want everything to be okayyyyyfuckkkk. i wrote her back an angry letter and didn’t send it and went to sleep. i woke up and wrote a nicer, gentler, better-written letter about my perspective on the situation. i was really honest. like maybe a little bit more punch in the face honest than she was expecting. 

i told her that being in her house is difficult because her husband’s ways of coping with untreated depression and anxiety and anger issues creates a cycle that is toxic. that bestie needs to get away from it. that she’s not a baby bird like her mom had said in her letter, but an adult bird whose wings had been clipped ‘by the sins of her father.’ that the only thing i’m doing is giving bestie and hubby the gentle push they need to begin a new life they want. that i was heartbroken by her accusation that she could ever perceive me as taking advantage of bestie, who is my soulmate and sister. it was a damn good letter, if i do say so myself. i wrote some things that people needed to hear.

bestie’s mom’s knee-jerk reaction was not good. she was really upset and cried asking if it was her fault that things were messed up, that bestie hasn’t yet ‘left the nest,’ that i have no clue how hard things are. i cried and told her that i see how strong she is, how she holds her family together. that i’ve seen it all the sixteen years we’ve been in each other’s lives. we hugged and cried and she asked bestie if she’s really ready. bestie nodded. “okay, then go,” she said, and began talking logistics.

the next day, bestie’s dad flipped out at her about something. bestie didn’t care to deal with it, was too focused on getting out of the house for our vacation. then i overheard him talking to bestie’s mom, saying that bestie ‘needs to cut off them bloodsuckers,’ referring to me and bestie’s hubby. we’re both unemployed currently, which means of course we’re taking advantage of her. ugh.

after our four nights at the beach, bestie and hubby left for an important weekend in michigan and i came to stay at my mom’s. my mom lives with her husband and their two cats in a small rv, a motor home. they both love it. my mom couldn’t be happier with her little house. but for me, it’s a little bit claustrophobic. i have my own little space in the loft above the front seat, but the bed i’m using isn’t really a bed. i like spending time with my mom, reconnecting. i realized the other day how long it’s been since we’d lived together, read a journal entry about a time she and i had a huge fight because we were basically just done living together. she lives about nine blocks from the ocean, so yesterday we walked to the beach, sat in the shade and people watched, went in a few stores. i was looking for a purple fluorite stone but couldn’t find any. we ate pizza. it was cute.

after so much swimming upstream, it’s nice to take a break in the shallow pools of the shore. 

bestie is back in the area but i haven’t heard from her yet. i’m sure she’s exhausted from the megadventure she had during her exciting weekend being rebaptized into the spiritual journey that heals her and helps define her.  

her mom called me today to let me know that she was home and passed out last night after getting back. and to let me know that it might not be a good idea for me to come back to suffolk because her husband, bestie’s dad, read part of my letter and is not happy with me right now. i want to talk to bestie before we decide our next move. i’m totally willing to brown-nose if i have to, manipulate him into thinking we’re cool. i just want to do whatever gets us closer to denver. we have a lot of planning and packing and stuff to do. we need to find a place, and finding a place to live in a city is super hard when you’re 2,000 miles away.

i might go to richmond sometime this week to hang out with my kitties and some friends. a little bit more time on the shore. i miss my cats so much. fuck. i can’t wait to have my own space, my own bed, my cats with me, and my family in a new city on a new adventure. i’m still not quite sure how i’m going to get there, but i’m ready. just a little bit more swimming upstream before i can get comfortable again and continue going with the flow.

my view
just got my eyebrows done and i’m not sure how i feel about them
for when you can’t even
Ferguson from my TL

julianahuxtable:

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(From what I understand, the police thought they heard a gunshot and started throwing tear gas into the crowd. Correct me if I’m wrong)

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(Source: thewilsonblog, via boyinflowers)

fakegaysluttyantics:

anyone concerning themselves with trying to prove that michael brown shoplifted from a convenience store believes that black people should be executed extrajudicially for petty theft

(Source: mountaindewgamerfuel, via qkaboo)