the yellow rose of texas

“And the worlds got my dizzy again; think after 22 years I’d be used to the spin.”

                My anxiety has been getting worse. I came to a realization tonight, I’m alone. I have friends, yes. Thank you for pointing that out, but I’m alone. This force I have been running from is finally catching up to me. I’m not much of a runner anyway. We all know me to be more of a spinner. So tonight, I decided to go for a good long spin.

                Yesterday, I woke up to something I didn’t want to hear, I fought with people I really didn’t want to fight with. I had a panic attack, my shoulders are still sore from it. Sometimes I wish I had a little note keeper in my head, I have a really fun dialog in there sometimes. Today at work I wanted to write about how much it pisses me off when people blame their actions on drunkenness. I’ve done some stupid shit when I was drunk, some really stupid shit. But I knew what I was doing, even the times when I’ve been black out drunk, at the time I remember knowing what I was doing, I don’t remember what it was but decision making is still involved. I can recall thinking to myself, “I’m going to remember this in the morning” and waking up to a blank page. That’s not good for my head, I know.

I wanted to write about how I hate when people describe themselves as “broken”. No one can break you; our lives are ever changing puzzles. Just because the edges of the pieces are changing and moving around doesn’t mean you are broken. It will never be the same, yes. But its not broken. They didn’t break you, you didn’t break you. You aren’t broken, you are different. You might not even be put together, that just makes you separated, but not broken. You don’t need to be fixed, you don’t need to be healed, you just need to rearrange some things.

Instead I’m going to write about how fucking scared I am. The anxiety, its terrifying. Its to the point where I get breathless when I think people are mad at me. When I think I have let someone down. Or if I have too much caffeine.  Knowing that I’m all lonely, its scary. I’m scared I’m going to turn back into that 13 year old girl who is sleeping alone for the first time and dreaming of murdering the mother that isn’t speaking to her. I was sitting outside smoking a cigarette, there was a shadow dancing in my eye, it felt like there was something in the corner of my eye. My eyes were trying to adjust to the darkness and I could feel it. That scares the shit out of me; I don’t want to feel the dark. Its dark and scary. I don’t really want to feel this alone, but I’m going to. I still have people that I’m going to hang out with; I probably even have someone to kiss this weekend. But that’s a casual thing that is surprisingly one of the most consistent and healthy relationships I have right now. He doesn’t put up with my shit, well he might, but I haven’t really given him any shit to work with. I keep my shit together around him. Except for that one time with Lil John and Vampire Weekend, but that was “adorable” so eh. I’m scared of getting used to being alone, to just dealing with it and getting so warm and cozy in the one person life I’ve created that I don’t leave room for anyone else and I end up alone forever. Alone with a house full of cats and whiskey.

I thought about my Papa tonight. I miss him terribly. I started thinking about my nephew, yesterday I was playing with him. He was throwing pillows at me and climbing all over the loveseat. He slipped and bumped his little head on the back of the couch. It hurt, he hit it good. He cried and Elaine, his mother, consoled him and calmed him down. It occurred to me that mothers are wonderful people, a child’s first best friend. She is the one that plays with him, and makes him smile, his company. All parents really, that isn’t just a mother thing. Dads are pretty awesome too. My grandparents were a really huge part of my early childhood. Most of what I remember from before the divorce is being over at Granny and Papa’s house. James will never get to meet my Papa, and that makes me really sad. I need to spend more time with my Granny because I know she won’t be around for forever. But its hard because Papa isn’t there. He died quite a few years ago, 2004. But he is still in my head, in my heart. I was his yellow rose, hence the yellaroses. He used to sing “yellow rose of Texas” to me all the time. My middle name is Rose, for those of you who didn’t know. My next tattoo will probably be a rose, for my Papa. They were married for over 50 years, Granny is alone now. Over half her life spent with this one man.

“And it only feels worse when I stay in one place, so I’m always pacing around or walking away.”

Landlocked Blues - Bright Eyes