Saturday, June 13, 2009

Where is Diana? Is she in India?

I am still alive! I am doing pretty well, very well, volunteering with the kids at the childrens home has gotten me over the whole pressure to get married thing (no biological rush-I have kids now) and given me a sense of purpose/desire formore in my life. I have been impressively social, I still am on facebook way too much, but one step at a time.

I don't know what I want to do with the blog now, I have really gotten out of the habit of writing, and fortunately been sharing
More of my anxieties with my friends, which is really healthy.

I began Diana Crabtree when I began therapy, while suicidally depressed. I went for two years, consistantly took my medication and made changes in my life, slowly but surely, and the depression has been in remission for ages. I have a LOT to work on with myself, lots of mess, as fat as ever, but I am no longer my own enemy, so I can solve my problems, or manage them, without putting myself through hell.

I am so grateful for the way Diana Crabtree helped me come out of my shell, and gave me a place to organize and let out my thoughts. I suggest anyone else suffering create a similar blog, just remember to hide your identity (it's a dangerous world out there) and remember, vulnerable people might be reading it, so don't get too dark or give advice that can trigger someone else, stay positive.

Thanks for reading, who knows, I may start writing again one day :)

posted by Diana Crabtree at 8:58 PM 7 comments links to this post

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Vomit. Vomit. Vomit.

Men plague me even when I am not looking for them.

I am in India, and a member of the family I met and fell in love with last year and I have been IM/e-mail friends since last year. We even flirted, and thought about dating. We sort of "broke up" before I even came out here, but when he learned I was back, heres how it went:

He said he sort of had feelings for this girl here, (21 year old, he is 34) I was expecting a prim & proper little church girl, but instead it was a hot bitch little church girl. So when he knew I was , he said now he wasn't sure about her. I made it easy for him: Pick her. I dont fight over men, men fight over me.

So now she broke his heart and he is jealous that I have a 23 year olbackd taking me to Old fort. My response to that was "younger and prettier always wins"

posted by Diana Crabtree at 9:12 AM 0 comments links to this post

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Music makes me lonely

I have put together a nice little entertainment center for myself. A TV, DVD player, VCR and little radio the has an auxiliary option that I can use for my iPod or computer. Right now I am listening to a few of my favorite CDs that I have been able to upload to my iPod, and getting this familiar ache.

What I am about to say isn't a revelation, it isn't even my idea, and I probably have said it already a dozen times. I am not lonely for a man, I am lonely for myself! I believe this is why I can't commit to a nice, boring cubicle worker...I keep wanting a man to bring me the stimulation that I am not giving myself in my life!!!

Look at the guys who do it for me...musicians, filmmakers, writers, photographers; successful business or activist types; scientists; people who regularly participate in active things like biking & hiking. Now this is all well and good, you should share interests, but that ache isn't for their company, it's for their inspiration. Its the reminder of myself. I have not been successful at any of these things, and so I am making that antiquated "woman" mistake of trying to create fullfillment from someone else's accomplishments.

I know this was the attraction with Toronto Jackass. His music is just. fucking. brilliant. God he was a jackass, and of course with that 30% sympathetic personality, it just kept me hooked, even with the complete knowledge that he was a jackass. I started writing back and forth with him while I was seeing Mike. He started it. I just responded on Myspace that I loved the music, and the conversation went from there. The hours we spent writing inspired me to ask Mike for more time together, and during our online chats I got to observe the creation of the most beautiful song, which comforted me through the breakup with mike, and the blow-off from Jimmy, the brother of the man that married my cousin. The way T.J. acted I would not put up with from anyone, except maybe him, or a member of Fischerspooner or Royksopp. He pulled that creative part out of me, and I am happy to say I don't want to put her back.


God, I can't believe how conformist I have become over the years. One thing I wonder is if I need to leave my state, where people are very subdued. I constantly feel like I am "too much" and I can't think that withholding my enthusiasm is good for my mental health. I think back to how obsessed I would get with things, particularly music. I would buy a "Q" magazine and just melt into the pages, fawning with the "ravers" in particular, in denial of how much drugs were involved with their elaborate personas. Now I try not to get too excited, because I know I sound like a nut-job. But the only time I get anything creative accomplished is when I let myself get lost in my own head. (did I mention I wrote a poem about how much my company pisses me off? :) )

This is not an "I'm gonna" post. I already am changing. I had my tonsils removed in December, and it helped me make a big leap forward in my depression. I am pretty sure I had sleep apnea (It was never officially diagnosed, but they removed the tonsils anyway because I am frequently sick) and I am pleased to say I have noticed far less depression. It was the norm for me to wake up 4-5 times a night, I didn't know I was capable of sleeping the night through. Now that I can, I am a completely different person. I am getting so many little projects done, ones that seemed so big before. I sincerely think I have been living my life half asleep for as long as I can remember. Who knew that tonsils could be so disabling?

Also, I have pulled myself out of my depression by being easy on myself. I got myself in it by pushing myself so hard to be this perfect person, and I had to change my way of motivating myself. I have let myself take it easy, as I emerged from the depression, but I have been in remission for awhile now, and it's time I stop focusing on survival, and frankly, getting a life!

I am so glad I have my stereo set up, so I can be reminded of that "special someone" that I deserve in my life. My old self!

SIDE NOTE, me & T.J. have barely spoken since our tryst. He had a girlfriend with an "open" relationship. I believe him, or I wouldn't have done it. He made her out to sound like a big drug addict, and I shared with him what I know about addicts, that all you can do is support them getting better or leave. He did, but he got defensive about my (perfectly sensitive) response to the news. I tried to open dialogue, but it never went anywhere. He is touring in India now, and based on my Facebook stalking him, I am pretty certian they are back together, or going to be. There are two good things I can say about this. One, he posted something about his religious pilgramage, and how it made him want to be a better person. It makes me feel good to know that he will have more peace in his life, and two...I knew what I was getting into. I knew I wouldn't get what I needed or deserved from him, but I followed my passion, and didn't get (very) hurt. I can even listen to his music now without feeling a pang. It may be because I feel hope he will have a better life. It sucks to see someone being miserable, and have the gut feeling they will remain miserable (because they are a jackass)

UPDATE: After writing this I was taking a shower, and felt this old, familiar feeling...happiness. I know my life will be better when I make these changes. How 'bout that!

Labels: Creativity, Depression, Men, Sex, Sleep Apnea

posted by Diana Crabtree at 5:17 PM 2 comments links to this post

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Locked out

I am struck with a sudden case of melancholy. I think it comes from the rings. Every day that I age, all the appealing men that appear to find me attractive are wearing a ring. I don’t feel like I can peacefully wait for my match, because my match is already married, and he just had his second kid. My match is in the process of planning his wedding. My match and his partner just got another dog, and bought a house with a large yard together. These rings feel like a growing chain link fence, made of gold, silver and platinum circles. I am left out, and I feel like I don’t climb to the other side sometime soon, I will be completely shut out.

Of course, the chains on such fences are weak. They have a success rate of 50%, surely I will have an opportunity when these sadly inevitable links break. But what will I be acquiring, someone who has been hurt. Someone a little more jaded about love. Someone who did not successfully hold a marriage together. I may go in with a bright cheerful perspective on what a marriage can be, but I might look into my match’s eyes, and see the reflection of the much darker “reality.”

One thing for sure is I am learning I hold a lot of responsibility for the place I am. I hold men at an aloof distance, not trusting them to be strong or unselfish enough to earn my trust. I assume they will be weak, either to their own Id, or to their fears, and that they will give up in difficult times just like my father, leaving me alone to hold a burden of a life that is only half mine, if I am alone at least my full responsibility is for a life I created with my own judgment, and I am always carrying my own share.

One of the tools I use to keep men at arms length is objectifying them. I see them as sexual objects, and relate to them that way. I don’t relate well with men without some sort of flirtatious or sexual undertones to the relationship. I am a person who, if someone wants to have sex with me, and neither of us is taken, if they are remotely attractive I probably want to, and soon. I have little patience for building sexual tension. I need to get it over with so I can just relax.

Yesterday I decided to reach out to a warm French-Canadian CSA who has been repeatedly flirtatious, in a very gentlemanly way. I wrote my e-mail on a card with a joke to make my intentions less formal and more fun, but when the CSA came down the stairs, it wasn’t him, he worked the prior flight only, and I wont be going back for 2 months, at very least. I casually threw the card away, trying to tell myself “oh well, better luck next time” but I felt more disappointment, the chemistry planets aligned with no planetary rings blocking the electricity, and yet here I am again, alone.

I used to believe that my chubby body was interfering with finding my partner. I know that this is only partially right. My insecurity has no doubt interfered, but the size of my thighs and waist could only turn away the wrong men. I do want someone that I can be active with, but the last thing I want in a man is someone who could be turned off by a few extra pounds. I can’t say I like the look of a gut that sags over a waistband, but if the mental and physical connection is there, the silly gut just becomes a mushy thing to press my body against. If my husband gains weight after working hard to support me and my family, I wouldn’t want him less, and I would hope he wouldn‘t want me less, after I have given birth to 2 of his children.

What is now interfering with me finding someone is anxiety. Wow. That is really it. I am anxious he will cheat. I am anxious he will lean on me too hard. I am anxious he will not be dependable. I am anxious the sex wont keep me satisfied. I am anxious we will be too different. Even if I found someone, the anxiety keeps me from being myself. I can hardly be myself in the regular world, I am “too much” like the flamboyant gay man who had to leave his small town where he can be the big, beautiful queen that he is.

The one-two punch of losing my grandpa, and going through tonsil surgery with no-one to refill my humidifier, has made the chain-link-fence of wedding rings all too obvious to me. I am sincere in being ready to compromise, to be there to support someone else, problem is, I feel the narrow field of candidates gets smaller and smaller, and I don’t know if any of them who are left would even still match me, even if I were given the opportunity to meet each and every one of them.

I feel too weird for the normal people and too normal for the weird people. I want my partner to match me, but I feel too unusual to find a match. I have to be honest in the fact that I am losing hope, or worse, am feeling desperate. I can’t just settle for something that wont last, but I have to learn to stop seeking the perfect match, when the person I am is far too complex to classify as it is. I know this post is dark, but its just expressing the way my heart feels.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 8:24 PM 2 comments links to this post

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Douchebag ruins the night

I have so much going right in my life, but I spend more time on facebook and sparkpeople that I never blog on here about it. When do I ever write on DC? When it is about sex or depression. Something secret. It creates an awfully one dimensional picture I think.

Here we go again...tonight I went to Mongolian stirfry with Carter and some other pilots & a flight attendant. I was really excited, because in this circle is a pilot who I like, and I am not sure, but could like me, if we spent more time together. He wasn't there. It was looking like a fun night of drinks would be afterwards, but who should show up? That Italian douchebag that I fooled around with to forget about Daniel Shnieder, the married overly-flirtatious man who I had a crush on since elementary school.

I wouldn't have called him a douchebag, except for two things. One, I had said I just wanted to kiss, before anything...but he took all of his clothes off in the blink of an eye. I finally went along with it, and wasn't upset, but now of course I totally regret it. Why? Because he has a big fucking mouth. His friend added me on facebook only a month or so after, and started asking weird questions. I played along with it, but later realized that the fact he was doing this meant that dipshit opened his fucking mouth. I never admitted to anything, except I dropped a hint that *that night* I was interested in someone else. Douchebag was my second choice.

So he showed up, and so I didn't want to go out drinking anymore. But I really did want to, but not if he was going to be there. To make it worse, I am attracted to him, and it makes me want to throw up in my mouth. He is my physical type, black hair, arm hair, & with broad shoulders. And he has a dorky, nervous insecurity which is pretty endearing, sadly.

So now my night has been ruined. I regret that stupid night, though I am so glad that in high school I never made the mistake of fooling around with anyone in a "crowd." If I feel humiliated, as a grown adult, having that be exposed about me, imagine how awful it would be in high school. I had a bad reputation in Jr high, just for developing early, imagine having the reputation but "deserving" it.

Oh well, thats life. I am happy to say that at least my sex drive is under control right now. Even if it was offered to me I don't think I want it. I have been thinking about it, sex without feelings is like food without salt. You can enjoy food without salt for years, but once you have tried food with salt on it, it is bland without it. I might have a tryst with a 23 year old in India next month, but there is an emotional element there. I am not even sure I want to do it. He is 23, and a little brooding. I am not sure how good of company he will be, since when I met him we were instructed to be silent for 3+ days.

So moral of the story? Don't ever go out to dinner? who knows

UPDATE: If you want to visualize what the douchebag is like...imagine "the todd" from scrubs. Oh, I wish I was joking. Dead on.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 10:18 PM 0 comments links to this post

Saturday, January 10, 2009

I had sex with Toronto Jackass and deleted and blocked him from my facebook, myspace, yahoo & MSN messengers. PUHLEEEZ let me stay strong. He still has my phone number and e-mail address, so I am not completely safe, especially from myself

posted by Diana Crabtree at 11:35 PM 0 comments links to this post

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I don't care if I bond with my family

The family is talking about politics & Africa, all things I have plenty to say about, but when I spoke up with a very good point about corporal punishment and my uncle who is from out of town just spoke right over me, without a "oh, sorry, what were you saying?"

I just walked off, not dramatically, subtly. Its my own fault, I am smart & talented, but who will know unless I assert it. i just don't care enough. I don't care enough, even if it means not bonding with my family. Even if it means excluding myself to "scan pictures" I just cant take it right now I guess. I am not severely depressed, but I am mildly depressed.

The funeral is tomorrow, I hope the crying will soften me up. I don't know where this anger comes from, but it's there. And screw my uncle for being so dismissive. Yes, he lived with my mom when I was a child, but I am older than my cousins he is having an intelligent conversation with, so fuck him. Sadly, i am going to hold a grudge about what could easily be an ADD type of mistake.

I probably know more about what they are talking about than all but one of them! GRRRRRRRRRRR

posted by Diana Crabtree at 7:01 PM 0 comments links to this post

Friday, December 26, 2008

Grandpa Died

I can't write the post now, I guess. I got my wish, both my wishes...I got to be there, and he got to die soon. I was going to drive home, but a voice kept telling me "You know you are too tired to drive- what are you doing? You need to turn around" And I did. I laid in bed, and 2 hours later he was gone.

Grandma was listening. She came and helped him out of his body.

It doesn't matter that I am not Christian, he was a congregationalist minister, he is going to heaven to be with his wife and my mom. I don't believe it, but he did, so I believe it for him. Even if there was no heaven, there would become one, for him. He deserves it.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 9:51 PM 0 comments links to this post

Thursday, December 25, 2008

My Grandpa is Dying

Last night, Christmas eve, I was wrapping presents alone at my aunt's house in the north of my state, while the rest of the family was at church. The phone rang, but I decided not to answer it, I figured it wouldn't be for me, and if it was, they would call my phone or I could hear them leaving the message.

My aunt came home, and said "grandpa is having trouble breathing." and hugged me hard. We packed into the car, and I cried silently.

When we got there, I wasn't sure of where he was, or how lucid he would be, but I could tell things would be bad when I started hearing loud gurgling sounds like a walrus coming from room 575. I stood outside and hugged the gathered aunts and uncles, and was told grandpa was saying my name. I came in, held his hand. Said hello to him, and that I was sorry that he felt rotten. I told him I loved him, and that if he wanted to die I understand. I sat with him, and held his hand, and at one point realized my 17 year old cousin hadn't had a chance with him. After an hour maybe I decided I wanted to tell him to look after my mom. I knew it might be my last chance. It wasn't.

It happened for hours and hours. Grandpa would doze for 30 seconds, then choke and panic for 2 minutes or so. Someone holding his clenched, bruised hands would be comforting him, telling him he is in the hospital, or that he should look for the angels. Over time, my uncle said something very reasonable "I don't think he is going anywhere yet" he is strong, and his skin is warm and has color. He has pnemonia right now and can't sleep because of it. He is really drugged up, and he had a stroke, so he might have lost some of his logic. Everyone chatted about it and agreed, the nurse had just gotten on her shift, and may have misinterpreted his symptoms as being the end. My aunt set up a schedule where the family sits in 2 hour shifts with him, and all but one of us went home.

I went to my shift this afternoon, Christmas. On the way there, I listened to a Buddhist tape set I bought at a garage sale. Shortly before exiting the car, the tape said "to truly love someone, even when they are suffering, is to simply be present with them." Perfect.

He was so much better than the night before. He was resting for 30 seconds and awake for 30 seconds, and panicking much less. He got a nebulizer treatment, and a new medication, so he seemed better at least, not good, but better. He would hold eye contact with me, and at one point I could very clearly hear him say "I love you so much" which the nurse said she heard too. I reminded him over and over that he didn't need to ask God to take him. I told him he would take him, and all he needs to do is rest. I reminded him that the pain he is in is temporary, and that he will either heal from the pnemonia, or be free from this life, so one way or another, this is temporary.

Now I am in a selfish place. I am proud to say that I am not being so selfish that I want him to live, but I am selfish enough that I want him to live for another week, so I can be there when he dies. How can I want that? He may live. He may live for months. But how can I prefer he lives 6 more days? How can I wish that for him? I really want this to end for him. Soon. I just don't want to be seperate from the family when it happens.

When I left the hospital, I felt really happy and alive. I really felt peaceful and connected to him. he looked deep into my eyes. I swear he said he loved me. I really felt like he understood that his family was by his side, loving him. I really felt that he approved of me. He said it before, even though I am just a flight attendant, he was proud of me. He was proud of my volunteer work. He was proud of me sponsoring an orphan with the money that was supposed to be my Mother's, but he let me have instead. He approved, and now I can show him how much I love him, and he knows.

I suppose I should leave tonight with the expectation he will die this week. Maybe with the hope that he will. I would love it if I could chat with him in 2 weeks and learn how this experience went for him, but even that, could mean that he would have to go through some trauma again. I know how it is to have a flu. I know how it is to be in bed on vicodin, in a daze. I had such an awful night the other week when I had phlegm in my throat and woke up every hour. How could it be waking up every minute?!?!?!?

I should get to packing, I am going to take a 12-2 shift, then driving 3 hours in the dark and dangerous cold. I need to get home for work, so I will do it. I think I can let go of my selfish wish. I can hope this is goodbye. Please let this be goodbye.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 9:32 PM 2 comments links to this post

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

A one day love affair

Ok, so I enjoyed one day of feeling all in love with Toronto Jackass guy. Good for him! He managed to NOT be a jackass- twice!

The next day, I was over his ass. I had written "go to sleep" to him, and he hung up instead of saying "ok, ok" or anything. Perhaps he didn't see my message, that is the most minor of possibilities, and frankly, it wouldn't matter, the spell is broken.

I have online chatted with him twice more this week, and he is just- dumb. He sent me a weird video game, and I sent him a silly link with a dog licking the screen. He said it was ridiculous, I said "and cute." I said "admit it, you giggled." he said "I dont understand people who like to look at pictures of pets." I said "ok, dont admit it, but I know." and his response was "Im going to sleep." and hung up.

Behavior like that is how he got the name "Toronto Jackass Musician" and eventually I got sick of his ass and deleted my windows messenger program. He is not a charming man. He is great looking, and I like his music, but dude does not have a great personality. Its interesting...his EP is titled with a term similar to "I am negative." Appropriate.

I dont know what to do now. I have all these overnights there, and plans to see him, but who even wants to? Sheesh he knows how to make me feel like shit, and I should be immune, because its not like this is the first time!

Oh well, I got to feel ultra-infatuated for one day. It was nice.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 1:48 AM 0 comments links to this post

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Chatted to Jackass Toronto guy

Yeah. A few weeks ago I sent him an email saying he will never get a girl without ulterior motives if he doesnt act like something besides a jackass (paraphrasing) I decided I was sick of his fucking with my mind, and I was done. Of course I knew I wasn't done. But I did know I wasn't going to contact him again. The ball was in his court, and I have given him enough chances. He needed to contact me. Period.

He did. And better, we actually chatted. I suppose we used to chat back in the day, but I got so sick of him hanging up without saying he was leaving, that I removed windows messenger from my computer 100%

I cant remember what happened next- oh yeah. He put my name in a song. I hate to be cliche, but it softened me up.

Fast forward, he finally acted 10% normal and had a conversation with me, saying he wanted more than just to sleep with me. I was willing to go for it, as in try to get to know him better- but he would barely give me the time of day. I realize he was finishing his album, but I am a patient person, he blew it. I decided to send him a letter, to maybe help him with future girls, and to kind of write it in stone for myself that I was fed up. You know? Like to draw an end line.

But again, I knew it wasn't an end line yet. I felt it coming, but some dumb thing in me wasn't done with it just yet. I actually was doing well, not even thinking of him, but then an update on the album showed up on facebook, and I swear to bob, I LOVE his music (myspace was how we "met") and I do want to buy the album, even if he never knows or if we never speak.

And yes, I was sending psychic messages to him to write me. Ha ha. But yeah, he finally did. And finally acted "normal" (in quotes for a reason) and now I feel like I am in fucking love.

You know what...I am going for it. I can tell it might be a mistake, but I feel something. I think I operate on logic a little too much in the relationship game. I find a flaw, and I say "I couldnt marry him." I think I need a boyfriend, not a fiance. It's a dangerous game to let yourself fall for someone who may not last the whole nine yards, but I am doing something wrong in my life, so I think I need to try new things.

More updates as they come.

Dayum

posted by Diana Crabtree at 3:05 AM 0 comments links to this post

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Dear Facebook Friend

When playing stupid, useless, facebook games, and the quiz asks you if you think your friend is happy, you say YES! It's not ANONYMOUS! Now I have to walk around knowing you don't think I am happy! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? SAYING I'M NOT HAPPY!

I AM VERY FUCKING HAPPY DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

posted by Diana Crabtree at 10:58 PM 0 comments links to this post

Note to self...

A woman as boy crazy as me should really make it a priority to get in shape.

My lord. The world is full of sexy, SEXAY men. I mean, come on. I don't have to partake, but if I get & maintain a great body, I have the availability of many, many men until I take the plunge and get married, and I am sure after our inevitable divorce ;)

You know, quite honestly, weight gain saved me a little. I used to be a little out of control. It's hard to resist temptation, especially when it involves people you work with, people you care about (or hate) and any other inappropriate people who might look appealing during lonely/boring/drunk/convenient times.

Im a big girl now though. I am smart & strong enough to resist temptation. Its time to get back into comfortable skin! 4 days and I can start working out again!

posted by Diana Crabtree at 6:45 PM 0 comments links to this post

Friday, December 12, 2008

Knowledge

I am up at 3AM, wearing a tight red t-shirt that says "knowledge" but might as well as say "knockers" and was listening to the music of the mind-fucker in Toronto. I was shaking my head, feeling unsatisfied, and not sure why. Is it my job? My love life? If something needs to change, how should I change it?

What about men? What the hell. I see the ads on the side of facebook with a hot guy that I know is supposed to lure me to the site, and I think they all look like they are asses. I look at pictures of fat, lonely guys, and I think they look like clingy bloodsuckers. I am not coming from a positive, open place when it comes to men.

I thought about the Toronto man, and how annoyed by his mind-fucking I have been. Fortunately, he has hardly been on my mind at all for ages. He IMmed me one day, and everything was really clear communication. He said he thought I was mean, and really seemed to come out and say that he "likes" me, not just wants to sleep with me. I was open to it, really. I want someone in my life (maybe) and he is great looking and creative. But shortly after, I was IMing with him (barely) and suggested he call me. He didn't, nor did he suggest I call him. I soon made an excuse and signed out. Soon after I wrote him a really constructive letter, saying no girl would want him if he acted that way unless they had ulterior motives. I wont contact him again. Sadly, I am sure he will contact me again, and the tiring, endless, useless game will go on.

In the end, I sense he likes a little drama. Keeps the artistic juices flowing. It isn't me he likes, but the idea he has created with the little snippits of me he has seen, and if he were to actually make an effort it would A) require effort and B) reveal that I am actually a bit stable, and in turn=boring. I admit it. I dont have to be boring just to be stable, but I am both.

I thought about it- DAMN, I am 31. I am with it, damn it. I am a fucking ADULT. I am too old for crap. I have a new suggestion: if you are a woman over 30 and not a dumb ass. Stop looking. You had your chance to get married when you were young and impressionable. Once you have a vision in your head of how the world is, and how you want your life to be, you are too smart to fantasize into believing a anyone will give you what you need from a relationship.

CASE IN POINT: I thought about my mom. She had me when she was 25, so at 31, I was 6. I thought of what her life must have been like when she was my age, then I remembered, she knows plenty about dumb-ass men. She married my dad. I am happy to say I remember one example of a good boyfriend (who is now a state congressman- a good one! and has been for years) but she knows as much as I do about rediculous men. Well, almost as much. I got to see what happens when you die, and your child is left to be raised by one.

I really realized after having my tonsils removed, I am really lonely. I would love to have a family, or at least someone to give a shit about me when I had surgery. My dad really sucked at taking care of me. I asked him to be in charge of my medicine. Not surprisingly, I did that, despite being completely out of it from anesthesia. I sent him a link about the stages of my recovery to print for my grandma, I doubt he even read it. I even filled my own humidifier, even though I wasnt supposed to be bending. It hurt. I was dumb enough to think I would be taken care of this week. What a dummy. I am home now, and my roommate is a sweetheart, who certianly cares, but I am good enough now to look after myself. My friends offered to drop in, but I was in the suburbs when they did. I will see them in a few days, but I just would have loved to have a parent on those first few days. I wasn't helpless, damn it I am never helpless. I just wished I could have been. Just rested, let someone else do the thinking for that one day when my body was sliced open.

Speaking of...crying usually feels good. I treasure it when it comes, but right now, it hurts. It is stretching out my throat. I dont know if I should try to stop, or just put up with the pain in my throat.

Even when I do find someone, I need to get closer to my friends again. I have just become to shy with myself. I only want to see people when I have it together, when I'm not crabby or dense or mopey or exausted. I loved being in India with all of those people living together. You annoyed? Well too bad, you are surrounded by people, so get over your mood or we will make it worse. And what happens? You eventually forget what you are annoyed about (some of the time) and you arent alone.

This post wasnt supposed to be about my dad, but it is going there. What am I supposed to do with him when he ages? I can't fucking stand him. For some time I thought I would take care of him, but how? Hes so negative and bitchy. Hes so- stupid (and stubborn about it.) Aha! And I just figured something out...he probably thinks he is smarter than everyone, which makes him even more useless. "Common sense" is for commoners, right?

Uh. OK, that was a pretty good cry for a girl with part of her throat missing. Enough of this.

Sad not to have my ma. It would be good to have her on nights like these.

Oh...and can a person get vicodin withdrawl after only 11 days?

posted by Diana Crabtree at 2:58 AM 0 comments links to this post

Thursday, November 27, 2008

A provacative dream

Last night I dreamed I was a combination of myself, and "Fergie" from the Black Eyed Peas. I was an actor in a film, and I was fired, for a small thing, but a reasonable thing considering the scale of the film. In the dream I realized that acting is what I really wanted to do, it was where I was meant to be.

Now stop fucking laughing at me! When I say "acting is where I was meant to be" it doesn't mean "I was meant to be a star" I think my dream was about the creative part of me that needs desperately to be let out, I have an artistic mind, and I am quite talented at music (pitch & a pretty voice [to my ear anyway.]) I do write pieces of songs, and come up with art "installations" (no, don't ask me about the one with the latex dildos with faces on them.) I have this in me, why hasn't it come out?

That's easy. When my mom died, and dad was drinking, it was all survival for me. Art represented my dad, the guy who couldn't keep it together, I looked at the men in suits or polo shirts & khakis, thinking "those guys seem to have it together, I need to be like them." Let's face it- accounting offers security, medical careers offer security, singing and drawing don't.

Also, when my brain is stimulated, especially when I was younger, my mind would go crazy. If I read an article about astronomy that interested me, I would think of how much there is to know about space and the universe, and I would think I should learn about all of that stuff, and I would get so overwhelmed that once I started an interesting article I ought to put it down.

Music is the perfect example of me going nutso. The chances of me being a gifted astronomer would be small. I am smart, but not as smart as the people who study that regularly. Much of it would go over my head. But I was raised with music and art all around me. My brain is structured for music and arts, so if I put in the time, I could actually be good! I am not saying I would ever perform in front of strangers, but to just create some music that I like, and to sing and play guitar with my family, perhaps keeping the tradition going, could actually happen.

I just saw the movie "Once" tonight, which is what sparked my memory of the dream. The process of the two of them collaborating made me want to stand up and pace. There is so much in life I need to do! I guess now that the depression has lifted, I am back to the old, anxious girl, overwhelmed by her potential, so remaining instead on her bed, with her computer, reading Dlisted.

And the acting dream brings up memories so far back I barely remembered them. When I was young I put on shows. I loved reciting plays from textbooks on tape recorders. I put on impromptou plays, and I remember deciding one day in my elementary school yard that I would put on a show of the Wizard of Oz. The planning lasted 2 days at least. I was into it. It was going to happen.

I think Jr. High, coincidentally when my dad started drinking, is when the wind left my sails. The teasing finally got through, self-conciousness prevailed. The girl who was a leader and a performer learned to hold her head down. They teased me in elementary, but that didn't stop me I guess. I guess what stopped me was no longer having the ultimate ally, a parent, cheering me on.

Writing this brings me back there to that apartment when he started drinking. It was such an innocent time for me. The time I was still trusting, still- "me." The time when I still believed some of my life would be the same. I had no idea what the years ahead of me would be like. I had no idea that the person I was would dizzolve. I had no idea that Jr high, & high school would be all about fear, terror really. I saw my life go from a decent one, and for things to slip away, and get progressively worse. My innocent mind could only guess that it would only get worse, and that I was doomed to a life of torture and pain. I am so glad suicide didn't enter my mind until I was 18.

I guess that is just why these feelings are popping up now. As I am on the path of getting healthier and healthier, I have to re-learn who I actually am. I am not a yuppie. The yuppie goal was not one I chose because it fit me. I chose it out of fear that there was no other path for my life that could keep me safe. Now that I know I am safe and responsible, I can use some of my time to explore art more, which can free this creativity which is probably causing me anxiety, because I won't set it free.

It's time to stop being so damn "safe."

posted by Diana Crabtree at 1:18 AM 0 comments links to this post

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Explain, please.

Does somebody want to tell me why I am looking at Craigslist "missed connections" when I have been in bed with the flu the last 3 days?

posted by Diana Crabtree at 3:10 PM 0 comments links to this post

Sunday, November 09, 2008

The best new weight loss plan: the flu

I was supposed to be at work today, instead I laid in bed, unable to breathe, and hardly sleeping. I went to Jane's house with her 3 year old daughter and 9 month old twins, and my Carrie's 6 month old. It was so much fun! I remember 2 years ago when they told me they were pregant at the same time. I had just broken up with Charles and the news couldn't have brought me down more, but this time it was just fun.

Well we spent the night at Jane's house, but when I woke up I didn't feel well at all. I was supposed to go to a cheesy jewelry party, but I wanted to go because it was with old friends I havent seen for ages. But I couldn't even stay awake in the car ride home! (no, I wasn't driving) And when I got home I was in bed until, well, I am still in bed.

Anyhoo, I lost 2 pounds from not eating anything! yay

posted by Diana Crabtree at 8:59 PM 0 comments links to this post

Friday, November 07, 2008

Di Crabtree, back in the gutter in record time

When depression reared its ugly head a week or so ago, I felt a renewed spirit to write, and wondered if "Diana Crabtree" would return to it's mental health oriented roots, but overnight, I have gone from a post about love, and loneliness, back to the theme that dominated "Diana Crabtree" for so many years- ACTION!

I got bangs, and I think I look damn cute. Its time for change America! I am happy to say I am verified "Lice Free" from my infestation from the children's home in India (did I ever write that story on here?) and that is quite a relief. After my haircut I went to some airline friends' house, and had drinks and played board games. Two male pilots were there, a man from New Zealand (you know how I am a sucker for accents) and a sort of douchebaggy, but nice pilot I have flown with before.

I ended up drinking an entire bottle of wine. How did I do that? Wine is weird. I drink it, but don't notice I am getting drunk until I am already drunk. Even then I can't tell as much. Well I came on to this kiwi pilot like gangbusters. He was Buddhist and left wing, but kind of condecending about it. I was excited to meet a Buddhist in my city, because I want to find a sangha, but he proceeded to explain Buddhism and the world to me, which was annoying and boring, but I didn't care, because I would have made out with him even if he was a gun enthusiast, the way I saw it, if he passes, I will go for the douchebag, who I assumed was a sure thing, and, he was.

We were supposed to just make out, but he took all his clothes off in like, zero to sixty in 4.2 seconds, and eventually I obliged his silly hopes. There was no sex, but things were fully inappropriate, and I feel just fine about it. I am hurting. I feel lonely in my life right now, and having my childhood crush be so flirtatious and unavailable was really hard for me to deal with. I just felt like I deserved a good makeout session. Maybe I do deserve sex (yes I do) but not in my friends' living room.

The douchebag was the perfect victim for my mojo-recharging lust. He is not an actual douchebag, he is a dork, really. He is a nice guy, and yet not very crushable. My only regret is he is Italian, yet has removed all the hair from his chest and privates. What the hell is up with that? My lust for the Mediteranian, Middle Eastern & South Asian men is not for their abnoxious patriarchy, it is for their lucious dark chest and arm hair. The room was dark anyway, but I made sure to mock him for it anyway.

So now I am home. I left the apartment at 6AM. It started snowing and visibility was so bad I pulled into a community college parking lot and took a nap. I am glad I left, I was not sleeping well, and it just feels right to leave the scene of the crime. I feel confident that he will be a gentleman about it and not tell anyone. Again, he is only douchebaggy by appearance, inside he is a nice, but goofy guy. I am quite grateful for the favor of letting me take out my sexual frustration on him, I am sure it was quite the sacrifice.

posted by Diana Crabtree at 8:23 AM 0 comments links to this post

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Its called a crush because it hurts

I couldn't write this yesterday, yesterday wasn't about me, it was about Obama. What a wonderful day. My heart wasn't heavy yesterday, but it is now.

When I was a child, there was a boy named Daniel Schneider. He was a nice boy, friend of a friend, younger brother of my friend's big brother. Sort of in the periphery of my childhood life. I had a childish sort of crush on him, not like I wrote "Diana Schneider" on my notebooks, I just noticed him, and he became sort of a template in my mind, a nice, smart, good boy.

I went to a different Jr. High than him, then we went to the same high school. He symbolized, a bit to me, the old world I lived in before my mom died, while I was still innocent, and relatively happy. When I went to Jr. High my grades slipped, I became a "bad" girl, and boys like Dan seemed so distant to me. They would never like me. Different social classes. He was a "smart" boy, I was "stupid" (too anxious to focus on a schoolbook) and that was that. I remember once talking to him, and asking about Bosnia. Weird. He didn't remember me from high school apparently, but I did not bring that memory up, because I am embarrassed to have been so casual in talking about Bosnia, where people suffered so much.

So I had added him as a friend on facebook months ago, and of course I facebook stalked him a bit, looking at his pics, seeing how he looks now, and left it at that. He would regularly update his status, but thats all the "communication" that took place. Well one day he left a comment on a status update saying "I know why this rep is so scary looking, her face doesn't move" He mentioned he would be doing door knocking for her competitor, and I mentioned he should call me when a group does that, because the Dem. office never called me, and I have offered to volunteer TONS.

He did contact me, and he suggested we carpool. I was nervous, but the second I got in the car it was just warm and friendly. It was just me and him, and everything was calm and relaxed immediately. It started with a touch on the arm, which is a nice way for people to connect, but it didn't take long for me to sense that the attraction I felt was mutual, which I took as quite a compliment. We went to the office and got our instructions, and went out into the field to start knocking on doors.

We spent 5 hours together, talking, laughing, it was great! Basically it was like an awesome date. But you see, this was no date. He is married. He has a young son, and a baby on the way. I'm not a bad person, I know it means he is off limits, but the crush was deep. To make it worse, he touched me...a lot. He touched my arm, he let his arm rest against mine. He touched my knee, he put his hand on mine, he even put his arm around me! I was fully aware that this was inappropriate, but my dream boy- no, not just my dream boy, the boy who became the template of what sort of image I would like a boy to be like, was touching me! I loved it! I did try to subtly move away, like by talking with my hands so he wasnt touching me anymore, but I am sure I sent non-verbal cues back to him. I couldn't get myself to say out loud "um, you are touching me an awful lot."

The lamest time was at a gas station, where there was some sort of "get the gasoline smell off your hands goo" that he put on his hands. It smelled like wintergreen, and I said it smelled good, like wint-o-green lifesavers. He got out of the car, got some of the goo, and rubbed it on my hands. Quite transparent. I told him how when you bite a wintergreen lifesaver in the dark it sparks, and he said something like "we can check it out..." and I am like "eh...no, I have seen that before, you should show your son that." *eyes rolling*

At the end we got some lunch, and we chatted. I learned that Mr. perfect's dad was an alcoholic too. It goes to show you cant judge a book by its cover. He drove me back to my car, and fortunately, he did not seem to want to linger for long after. I am glad. I had thought about it in my head, and actually thought "if he kisses me I will let him, THEN I will tell him it's not right, and then stop. How much worse is the actual kiss than the attempt? Not much." I feel guilty for the thought, though I realize it did NOT happen, and so I don't know what I would actually do if it did.

I drove straight home, and made my decision between chemistry.com, and the toy. I grabbed my credit card, and went out and got myself a new boyfriend. I named him Daniel. Daniel is not that great in bed, unfortunately. But, I already committed, I can't return him after I used him!

Fortunately he hasn't written the normal follow up "yeah Obama won! Thanks to us, go team!" he is ignoring me and I am ignoring him. Maybe he also realized how inappropriate things were. But the problem is, just because my brain knows it's good we aren't speaking, my heart doesn't get it. All my heart can understand is I spent the day with a boy I like, and he liked me. My heart feels pain to know I can't talk to him, see him again. It feels like another breakup.

I am also sick and fucking tired of this pattern of "clicking" or whatever with married and attached guys. Just a week or two ago I had this captain who looked like Tobie Maguire. I thought something was there, then "zing" I learn he is engaged. Then there is my beloved Dutch pilot. He is 47 and I totally have the hots for him. We sat and chatted, and the chemistry is unmistakeable. One of the things we chatted about is the daughter he is soon to adopt, as soon as the paperwork is finished. Then howabout the men I knew before they were married? Marathon Man and I cant remember the name I invented for him, but the bicycle man (who keeps inviting me to ride on his motorcycle- um, awkward!)

I don't want someone elses man! I can't even have a fantasy about them, because there is always a hurt woman, sometimes with a child, in the way of my turn-on. I chatted with a friend (another attached crush) who pointed out it could be fear of commitment. But you know what? It's not! I really want to find a partner, and its not working! My heart can only take so much! Mike and Jimmy were such a one, two punch, that I can't fathom putting myself out there again, and then we have these 2 guys, the captain & Dan, sending me the signals, making me feel brave enough to come forward, but I cant answer those signals! They are off limits. Well I am sick of off limits men!!!

Hmm, maybe it is not ME thats attracting them, its me thats attracted TO them, because they arent trying to get me, so I like them. Isn't that why women like gay guys so much? I don't know. If I am sitting and thinking about this so much, maybe it is time to go looking for someone. I dont know. Until then, I have my new friend who is mine and mine alone.

...oh, and to add to the list of attached men...Jackass Toronto Musician who put my name in a song. We arent talking now because he is a Jackass, and I think he is probably single now, (because he is a jackass) but for ages he has flirted with me, even though he had a girlfriend, and they had an "arrangement" good for them, still nothing worthwhile for me

posted by Diana Crabtree at 8:48 PM 1 comments links to this post

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

The boy I have a crush on...

...IS PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No tears yet, I am tired from door knocking. Pray for him, every day. Poor guy! Lost his grandma. She never got to see it. :(

...BARACK OBAMA IS PRESIDENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

posted by Diana Crabtree at 10:48 PM 0 comments links to this post