ask, and you shall receive

love, meds, and femme-ininity: 2009 in review (and some ideas for 2010!)

I’m a few days late (hello 2010!), but, well, as they say: better late than never.

(Funny aside: when I was visiting visiting my family for Christmas, my brother and sister and I one day decided somehow (don’t remember why) that we would talk to each other only in cliches, idioms, and proverbs. Easier said than done! Ha. Ha. But certainly provided some entertainment.)

Anyway. I’m not usually a fan of reviews and resolutions, but I figure I’ll do one this year because (1) this has been quite an eventful year for me, and some of it’s made it on my blog and some of it hasn’t, so this will be a good way for y’all to come up to speed on my life where it’s at (Cliff notes, if you will), and (2) I’m hoping that 2010 will also be eventful and transforming for me, and so I’d like to make note of some of the changes that I’d like to see. Not so much resolutions as goals.

So, in 2009, I:

- fell in love with mi’lady. We started dating in November of 2008, but I definitely consider the falling in love part to have happened in 2009. It’s been my best relationship yet, without a doubt, and the sex has been the best sex I’ve had too. With her I feel safe to be my best and also sometimes (unfortunately) my worst, with the confidence that we’ll come out on top. With her I can communicate better than I’ve ever been able to communicate, and she inspires and motivates me to be the best person and lover I can be. There are ups and downs, of course, as there always are in any relationship, but I am deeply content and very, very excited about what’s to come for us this year.

- moved out of my former flat in the Outer Sunset in San Francisco, where I was living with a friend from college (a rocky situation at its worst, but absolutely lovely at its best), when she left SF to go to medical school in July. I moved into a tiny flat in the Mission with a wonderful roommate who has become one of my best friends here. Living with roommates I think can be very tricky, and our roommate relationship has its sources of tension and frustration, but we communicate through them pretty well, and I feel very lucky to be here.

- started taking anti-depressants for my PMDD (pre-menstrual dysphoria disorder), which was diagnosed in July after a particularly scary episode during which I was afraid I would actually do something really dangerous. I’ve had an interesting time with the medication, which I’ve discussed a bit on here, and I’ve actually stopped taking it temporarily because it was interfering with my orgasms (!!), but it was a really important step in my self-care regiment and in my acknowledgement that sometimes, it is really, really important to seek outside help.

- learned that my parents are getting divorced. Still processing this one, and I imagine I will be for quite some time.

- started coming to terms with my identity as femme. This has been thrilling! I don’t think I need to elaborate on this here at all, because I’ve expounded on it quite a bit on this blog already — just check out the archives.

- have been at the same job all year, and have become increasingly dissatisfied with it. I almost decided to leave it recently, and then realized that even acknowledging to myself that it is in fact my choice to be there (and that there are major advantages to being there, such as: the income, the fact that it’s a job I can leave behind when I leave the office) was enough to help me feel un-stuck for now.

- applied to several graduate programs in both public policy and cultural anthropology. I’ve yet to hear back from any of them, and don’t expect to hear anything until March at the earliest, but this is exciting for me and has also helped me feel more direction and purpose in my life.

- started working as a volunteer crisis counselor at a local rape crisis center, which has been deeply gratifying (while certainly not cheerful), has helped me feel more rooted here, and has been the catalyst for several new friendships. I haven’t written here too much about the processing I’ve been doing surrounding my own sexual assault(s), but I do plan to do so in the (near?) future, as it’s been a pretty profound influence on my life and my thinking and my sense of direction. It’s hard to write about, but it’s so so so important to me that I can’t imagine not doing so at some point.

- erased most of this blog and more or less started over! Writing here in the latter half of this year has been a source of comfort, comradery, introspection and motivation for me. Thanks y’all so much for reading!

And in 2010, I hope to:

- continue to fall in love and deepen my relationship with mi’lady. I’m looking forward to more great sex, more power play, even better communication as we learn each other through and through and more and more, mini-retreats (that hopefully won’t be too expensive), accompanying her to her sister’s wedding where she’ll be outing herself to all of her extended family and family friends, and maybe even moving in together (!) (but we’ll wait to see what my grad school plans are before we really talk about that seriously).

- start graduate school (speaking of).

- leave my job (which should be concurrent with grad school, but in case I don’t get into any of the programs I’m hoping to enroll in, I STILL would like to leave my job).

- continue to take care of myself and be strong enough to seek help in taking care of myself, from medication and therapy, but also from intellectual, spiritual, and physical mentors, as well as friends and family.

- come out to my grandparents. There. I said it. I made it a goal.

- continue to write here and use it as a platform for airing my relationship-, life-, and self-processing, and continue to strengthen my internet bonds.

Happy new year! In German, they say “guten Rutsch ins neue Jahr,” which means “good slip into the new year” and I love that, it makes the actual moment, the ball-drop at midnight, seem less critical and stretches it out, makes it seem softer and more gradual and a little whimsical, whoopsydaisical, and allows for some glitches and mess-ups. So, I hope you all have a good slip into 2010!

drug cocktails!

Dude, where’s the sun at? The Mission is supposed to be (a) the sunniest part of San Francisco, and (b) the warmest part of San Francisco. Since I’ve moved on Sunday, it’s been foggy and cold. Granted, it’s only been a day and a half, so I suppose I shouldn’t be making noise yet.

***

Things with mi’lady are good, and I’ve been pretty stable since that last low-point earlier this month (see here, here, and here).  I’m seeing a psychiatrist on Friday morning to hopefully start planning for some kind of drug cocktail. Haha, that sounds like I’m both a junkie and an alcoholic. (I’m neither, just fyi.) The truth is I know psychiatric medications are controversial. I know people scoff, people judge, people get on their soapboxes and preach about how all our children will be sterile, scaly mutants if we take anti-depressants. I’ve been there too, done that whole judging and scoffing thing, and I’m done now deciding for others what will work for them. It took me getting to a point where I realized, hey, I need help. And maybe drugs will help.

Because the thing is, I know this is chemical. I know that my bouts of severe depression are not about my emotions. They’re not about stuff happening in my life or my relationships or my work (though they can certainly be exacerbated by those things). They’re not banishable by just trying to be reasonable or do things that make me happier. They’re just really deep holes that are so deep I can’t tell that there actually is an opening at the top that the light shines through. I just need a ladder to get out of the hole. For me, I hope that medication can be part of that ladder. Psychotherapy too, and self-care, but I want to see if medications can be part of the mix. Because today, I’m doing alright. But next week? Who knows.

procrastinating, because I Hate Packing

I’m in the throes of packing. It really must be said that I HATE PACKING. I hate it with a deep, profound loathing. Something about it just seems so… inefficient. Because as soon as I get there? (there being only a half an hour away) I’M JUST GOING TO HAVE TO UNPACK EVERYTHING AGAIN. I’m putting my entire life in boxes, only to know that in less than 24 hours, I will already be taking it all out again. I wish there were a way to just, I don’t know, do a “select all” of my entire house, and then just cut&paste into the new place. THAT would be efficient.

So now I’m procrastinating.

***

Mi’lady is home! She returned Thursday evening; I met her at the airport. We slept at her house that night. Or rather, she slept; I had an early-morning EEG, which I was forbidden from sleeping before. I guess brain abnormalities  are more pronounced on lack of sleep. So I took Friday off of work and went back to her house to nap. She didn’t go to work either on Friday, since she’d gotten home so late the night before. So she worked from home, I slept, and it was just really nice. I mean, it wasn’t nice that I had to stay up all night Thursday, and it wasn’t nice that they forced me into seizure during my EEG, and it wasn’t nice that I felt so crappy all day yesterday, but it was nice to be back with mi’lady, and she was really sweet to me all Thursday night and Friday. The distance was good for us — as I wrote earlier in the week, a little bit of space helps to affirm a relationship. It gave me the time to realize I am, in fact, still me, still an individual, so I can go back to our relationship feeling just plain happy to be with her. Now I just have to be careful to maintain that — and not slip back into feeling like an alloy.

***

Okay, packing. So far packed:
bathroom
living room
spare bedroom
most of my bedroom (minus things I need tonight, computer stuff, and lamps)
shoes

Still need to pack:
clothes
kitchen

The kitchen’s going to be the bitch. Sigh.

last few nights by the ocean

It’s night, and the foghorns are sounding. I’m going to miss that about living out here, right next to the ocean — the constant reminder that my world ends, right here, I’m right on the edge. Just beyond my bedroom window begins the world of the sea, unknowable to me. Often when I look out my window, I see massive barges pushing their way solidly across the horizon towards the Golden Gate Bridge. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be crew on one of those barges. It’s just a life that’s unfathomable to me. I don’t mean I can’t fathom that other people do it. I can’t fathom doing it myself. I just have no idea where to begin imagining what it’s like. So it’s liberating to live out here, in a way. Just a look out my window and I’m confronted with the finiteness of my daily life. It’s a relief. The significance of my life has a visible boundary. I need that. It keeps me feeling whole.

The ocean is my spirit animal.

So, while I’m really boundlessly excited about moving to the Mission, hearing the foghorns bleat their warnings out to sea does render me a bit (preemptively) nostalgic. I’ll miss this place.

Moving on.

my refrigerator, British accents, and weepy drunks

I’m moving on Sunday (just across the city) so I’m trying to eat up all the food I have already rather than buying new food, so that I don’t have to end up just moving it. This is proving to require a hefty amount of creativity, given that these are the current contents of my refrigerator:

- two dozen eggs (I have no idea how they all got there)
- pickles
- feta cheese
- lemonade
- two yellow onions
- a grapefruit
- four different kinds of mustard (dijon, horseradish, tarragon, and plain yellow)
- sriracha
- sour cream
- frozen blueberries
- Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream
- Thai peanut sauce
- half a can of tomato paste
- lemon curd

Any ideas? Tonight I used up half an onion, my frozen spinach, two eggs, and the end of a block of cheddar cheese and made an omelette. That was about the last normal thing I think it’s possible to make based on what I’ve got left. I may be conducting some hazardous experiments involving a blender over the next several days…

***

Speaking of moving, yay! I’m moving! My new flat, although smaller, comes equipped with a washer/dryer, a cute little deck, an awesome neighborhood, a mere 15-20 minute commute to work, and an adorable British Indian (via Paris) chain-smoking roommate who claims she’s an alien sent down from outer space to record the human experience in downtempo spoken word trip hop. I kid not. She may be a bit eccentric, but at the very least she has a British accent, which counts for a lot.

***

Also, things are quite good in the lady department. She called last night, a bit drunk, and a bit teary (it’s that time of the month…), and bubbled over with worry that I was going to break up with her for moving to Oakland. It made me realize that I’ve been kind of a huge whore about the Oakland thing. She’s moving at the end of the summer to live with her band, and I haven’t been that happy about it because, well, she’ll be leaving the city. Oakland’s not far, it’s just across the Bay, but still… LEAVING the CITY! Who would want to leave San Francisco? Oakland is so far out of my realm of daily experience that it seems very, very far, and I’ve been apprehensive that her moving there will be a strain on our relationship.

But I realized last night that, while I’ve been trying really hard to be supportive of it, my stress about it hasn’t escape mi’lady. And it’s making her anxious. And that isn’t okay. I really want her to be happy, and if she’ll be happy by moving in with her band, then I think she should do it! I actually really do think she should do it. And so I just decided I’m not going to worry. Once she’s moved there, after all, Oakland will enter the realm of my daily experience, just by virtue of her being there. And it will work out. It will work out just fine. It will work out much better if she does move there than if she doesn’t and is unhappy about it. So I made the decision to let it go, and I have. I let it go.

Also, she’s just so cute when she’s drunk and weepy and tired that it just about melts my heart.