Am I Crazy

I am crazy. Fact.

I am crazy. Fact.

The title of this post is a rhetorical question. Hence the lack of a question mark. I already know I'm crazy. Take a peek into my unedited brain. I've attempted to write an authentic Stream of Consciousness. It goes in order of my thoughts as they popped up tonight (Saturday), post yoga, post a half-assed meditation, while dinner cooks on the stove.

Ok. My pointer finger knuckle hurts. Pretty sure it's arthritis. 
Not exactly insured. Now it's a pre-existing condiiton.
Should stir the curry.
Curry stirred. The electric range is supposedly fancy, yet trying to get it to work started this joint pain.
Am I actually thinking something more important now? 
Not really no.
I want to bike to the beach tomorrow, but not bring my laptop. I really don't want to work tomorrow. 
Yet that requires me to work for 90 minutes tonight.... It's 8:47. Ok, I can work.
I don't get paid enough to work on a Saturday night.
Tonight's dinner is vegan. I'm not getting skinnier.
Oh yeah, alcohol.
What am I thinking? Not much. I like the silence - in my head and this apartment.
Yoga will be good for me tomorrow. If I can find it. I know I will be a rushing anxious mess bc the train arrives at 7:59.
Setting myself up for anxiety. Cool.
Does my internal monologue sound whiny?
Am I mentally healthy?
Will I ever find someone who loves me 100% including the craziness?
Am I actually really normal and just like to think I am crazy to seem interesting?
No. I am crazy.
I think not in a diagnosable way - just like a little OCD and anxious.
Ha when ____ flipped out because I chucked the shampoo bottle and shattered it. He was a little scary then.
Not scary to me in general.
Why do I get myself into those messes?
Dinner smells good. 
Stop trying to force thoughts into your stream of consciousness to seem more interesting.
Seriously. This is a learning exercise.
I wonder if this is boring to read?
Oooh. I seriously don't give a fuck about ______. Maybe I should just ____. So close to zero fucks.
Is a vegan Vietnamese themed dog rescue cafe really my dream? 
A lot of times when you get what you want it isn't what it was cracked up to be. 
I should hustle some more and put money into savings. Paradoxically, people live on so little and are happier. So maybe "should" is really relative.
Money absolutely has almost zero correlation with happiness.
_____ are pretty miserable. 
Toys are nice though. White Vespa and white Specialized bike.
Why white? 
Because it's trendy or because I like it? Also, a Fiat.
Those things cost money. I don't have money.
Well some. 
Where do I want to go next? Do I even care to get to Africa? 
It's scary. But scary things are what help you grow.
Maybe I am done growing.
I like being alone. 
Banana pancakes for breakfast. I should try and meditate again now. 
I wonder if other people think I go off on ranting tangents when I talk to them. Sometimes I see people's eyes glazing over. I talk less now.
That's sad.
__ used to say I had melancholera. A disease of unhappiness. Maybe it was because I was dating him.
Or maybe I am just bound to be unhappy with whoever I am with.
Or maybe I just need to find the right person.
Maybe I need to be the right person.
I wonder if my list is too specific. Tony Robbins thinks no. He and his wife seem happy. 
"Seem" so many smoke and mirror shows.
Who really is happy?
WTF is happiness?
Why couldn't I get out of bed this morning? 
I need to figure my shit out. 
Or don't I?
No one saves anyone. 
I want to find that thing that makes my soul expand. 
It's out there I think.
I have almost traveled all the way around the world. In December I will have done it, plus 400 miles.
Where will I end upppp? Fuck.
My contacts are dry.
It's 9pm. I should probably work.
I should do whatever the fuck I want.
I don't really want to drink. Drinking alone is pointless. 
Hm, Does drinking ever have a point?
I drank too much Thursday. I don't like how that feels.
My stomach looks fat. Maybe another month off the sauce.
I want to travel. But from this as my home base.
A few plans already.
Maybe re-downloading Snapchat was a mistake. Too many channels to get worn thin on.
Another social media cleanse?
I should blog more.
When I die will I look back on my life and think "I should have blogged more"? No. Shut up.
Dinner is probably ready. I didn't make rice. On purpose.
I hope I don't go blind.
Why did I cry?
"I am not empty I am open" - remember that horoscope. 
Am I boring now?
I want a hug. Now I am sad. Fuck I sound like a crazy person. 
Well mom said it was brave to do an unedited stream of conscience. Is it conscious?
Sadness passed.
Numb now. 
Definitely crazy. 
I probably have a layer of thoughts I am not tuning into, maybe they are more interesting than this layer. 
I wonder if she will be mad if I _____.
Some things are too personal to type out.
I want to be off computers and phones and technology 100% for a while. I won't be able to work though. Maybe I should WWOOF. Will I write postcards?
I want Frank's phone number. Not to get an inheritance. Because I miss him. I will bet that's why that bitch wouldn't give me his number. I will just write him a postcard. I have been planning on doing that for 8 months. Why did I delete his number? Oh right. I am crazy. 
I blocked a lot of people and deleted a lot of numbers through the years. I wonder if I owe anyone an apology. Yes. I do. I wonder who the most? Probably _____. Or __. Or _____? Oh I apologized to him already.
Emotional warfare. But not intentional. 
Oh or _____. He hates me.
No comment. 

I live here.

I live here.

Saying Yes

The Universe gives back what we put into it - gratitude, love, money, even fear. It is endless in extent. 

After a foot shattering car accident in 2014, I took this to mean that saying yes where others might not would lead to extraordinary things - and it did. It also led to some really shitty things. Let me explain. 

oh Burning Man...

oh Burning Man...

Romance

Thanks to Tinder in 2014, I met an enigmatic, wild-child like myself. Within 2 days we booked Burning Man and Europe. We had so much fun together, but because I said yes to too much up front, it was nearly impossible to end things after I found him in the back of the Bronto-Bot with another girl. So we proceeded to Germany, France and Amsterdam, where this darling asked if I wanted to watch him with one of the Red Light girls. No.

After realizing Tinder might not be my best bet, I joined Match. I met 2 men off the bat. The first was an ex-pro football player. He was hot AF, unmotivated, loud, and totally my type. I ripped myself away from him and went for the sweet, dorky, tech guy. Not one for learning lessons, I accelerated the relationship by suggesting the Love Study (a fun exercise, but give it some time it really speeds up the L word) and then we booked a trip to Colombia. 5 hours into the trip I felt claustrophobic. For the remaining 4 days I drank myself into a stupor and broke up with him on the flight home.

A week after Colombia, I reached out to a friend for Southeast Asia travel advice. She connected me to her brother in the Middle East. You see where this is headed... Yup. After 5 months of talking online he booked me a flight to Bali. My heart was overjoyed. I had taken 5 months to get to know this guy and even though we hadn't talked on the phone that much, our core values seemed to align. After our 3 week vacation he asked me to leave my life in the States, my career, and live the nomadic lifestyle with him. With trepidation and a few glasses of wine I said yes, despite some pretty big red flags that had already come up. We all know how that wound up. Here I type, solo again.

Work

Last year as I paid off my debt, I was also learning how to position myself as a freelance digital marketer (an ongoing learning process). I had an intense deadline at work to launch a new website in time for a major campaign, had said yes to 3 freelance jobs and had just launched my blog. On one day in particular, Maggie came over as a bereft and naked me couldn't even make a decision on what clothing to wear. 

time to make big girl choices

time to make big girl choices

The next month I went to Bali. What a shock that I didn't want to return.

You can change your mind!

I am not suggesting that saying 'No' is the best option. I am the perfect example of how taking risks can have some extraordinarily awesome consequences. However, as a woman and a people-pleaser I need to get better at saying 'No' and changing my mind as soon as things don't feel right.

Here is the problem: When I change my mind I feel like I've failed at the decision in question. This guilt leads to me sticking with bad choices far longer than necessary. 

Traveling solo as a female is the perfect time to employ saying 'No.' It's a matter of survival. No, I will not meet an exes friend, late night at a coffeeshop. Yes, it was a poor decision to take a cab with the 2 men I met at the sushi restaurant.

Ultimately, I have no regrets. But as this journey progresses, I am getting better at pushing back and creating a forcefield around myself of un-fuck-with-ability.

Cheetos, Wine, Dark Chocolate

Petunia!

Petunia!

The monitor lizard is stirring in the roof again. I am guessing that he weighs between 10-15 lbs and his tail (the only part I've seen) is >15 inches. T created a trap for him 3 times now and all 3 times the lizard has escaped it , leaving it in pieces. Our housemaid Ann also took it upon herself to take down the trap. This caused a tourette's style fit from Crocodile Dundee (le sigh...). She should have known better, as she was the one who let us know the lizards bring in big money when sold to the locals.

As I'm writing, a cat has strutted through the apartment. This actually happens quite often. Unfortunately though, my Christmas miracle Petunia has decided not to return once she caught on that each visit required a bath. Pretty sure she had fleas, whoops.

romance in the sky

romance in the sky

As of this writing, I definitely smell. The power is out (this occurs almost daily in El Nido as the power grid can't keep up with all the tourists) and so the fans are not cooling me. Also, my generally malaise about taking a shower is extreme. Luckily it's my "day off" - my life is a vacation, so what exactly constitutes a day off? I am not in the dive shop and get to blog and cook dinner for the guys. For the next few weeks I'm running the social media show for the shop to defray some of my divemaster financial obligations. Yet another reminder of how happy I am to be on the back-end of a business instead of babysitting adults under the sea. 

One of the great benefits of my semi-employment is that I have so much alone time. SO MUCH. It's a special treat. Almost as good as some of the Western amenities I crave - rich dark chocolate, a perfect cabernet, Cheetos. Yes. Cheetos. 

RIP Divemaster

sea-turtle-girl-diver-divemaster

I really love to dive. It's a sort of meditative exploration where you're seeing things in a distorted way (30% larger and seem closer) and you're floating by them for much longer than a human should actually be able to. Observing all sorts of ocean life and anemones as well as bountiful coral reefs, creepy cuttle fish, protective clown fish, sea turtles + spotted sting rays is magical.

But I really hate breaking up my meditative exploration to deal with some dumbass motherfuckers buoyancy. Helping others and empathy is just not my forte. At. All. I am a really compassionate person to animals and to those few that I am close to, but even then my patience wears thin and I need excessive alone time for happiness... After completing 42 fun dives to get myself to the start point for divemaster coursework, I had a day of shadowing as an assistant. The BS of hand-holding and babysitting weren't joyful teaching moments, oh no. They made for a day of annoyance and rethinking the entire career path. I soon realized that I could still be a part of the diving world via marketing, but the saint-like position of divemaster or instructor shall be reserved for those far better and more patient than I. In a glorious twist of fate I burnt off a chunk of my finger with a firework on NYE so I can't dive now anyway. Hello universe stop LOL'ing at me, or maybe with me in this instance, that conclusion is reserved for if my finger ends up getting staph/SARS/MRSA/chopped off/gangrene/lepracy (you never know, cleanliness and clean water are not what southeast Asia are known for). 

I know that I am always searching for lessons and the meaning of experiences to evolve and grow from them, but sometimes I've already learned the same damn lesson. This is a perfect example of that. Years ago I left a career in physical therapy/exercise science because of patients and my personal lack of empathy... Yet now I saw myself as a tanned, outdoorsy, informative, chill divemaster... EERRMMPPHH (buzzer noise for wrong answer). Oh well the diving was fun + beautiful (and pricey...ugh)... Lessonz...