More of the same because #utah. #slc #sky
Community team works today, or whatever it’s called, a thing at work; so I spent the day volunteering at New Roots, a refugee community garden in west valley city.
We planted perennials to schmooze the bees when they bring in hives, built trellises for long beans and dug a trench to fix a broken wire on a water timer line.
New Roots caters to newer refugee applicants from all over the world; one of the reps said many are from Burma, but this year there’s even a woman from Ethiopia, one from Chad. They bring their babies on their backs, and families to help them garden. What else do I remember— the program is especially helpful to women who otherwise have nothing to do during the day, nobody to talk to, and are often just stuck around their new homes in a strange environment.
Local volunteers teach the refugees the best water irrigation techniques to use here in Utah (a drip system), though many refugees are used to some kind of farming and have a lot of their own efficient and resourceful techniques from their home.
The garden gives families the opportunity to grow otherwise ethnic and foreign crops locally, providing them with familiar nutrition, health, economic opportunities, a chance to socialize and more.
I’m very grateful for the opportunity to have worked with the folks of the irc & new roots farms today. Thanks, job, for providing the benefits.
I get so mopey and depressive sometimes, tired and lazy. I read on the Internet how our mind is always out worst enemy and getting in our own way. We warp our realities and use language to act defeated and down trodden; I’m def my own worst enemy. Then I meet people who I think are awesome who think I’m awesome in return, then it’s like, fuck you brain, why are you always trying to bring me down just like my mom? We’re all just trying to survive.
I hold on to things for so long. I try to stay stuck. I just mourned a little bit about how I have baby cravings and I lied to myself for forever about it and only just right now admitted that I secretly wanted to have the viking’s babies I guess?, fuck you uterus, you know? I feel that loss. Like he’s horrible and mean to me, he’ll come back and say things like, you’re too important for us to not be in each other’s lives, then April comes around and he goes again. He always just stops talking to me, ignoring and blocking me or whatever. If I try or don’t try talking to him, he will never ever respond. He has the most incredible and cruel will power to do this. It tears me apart. I wish I never told him how much it hurts me because I think he uses it to his advantage, like he has some part of him that benefits from power and having my love & affection & then taking it away in the blink of an eye.
He hasn’t even been around, he lives across the world now. He came home for Christmas or some time in the winter for his sick belly. He fucked me every day he was back and afterwards I’d have solid tears streaming down both temples, my arms and legs wrapped around his body, like some dumb tree-stoned, love-drugged koala.
I told myself recently out loud as a sort of revelation that I’m no longer afraid to lose him, not that he’s mine, but his leaving wouldn’t hold the same power.
It didn’t when he stopped chatting me again several weeks again, but sometimes I get obsessed and think and dwell. He is like some creepy possessive ghost in my lovesick memory, always popping up. I think of him and my heart races, tears well. I see the baby pictures with the baby puppies and find myself angry with my uterus for caring so much. The process of disconnecting from all these feelings takes so long and takes a lot out of me.
I’m emotionally unavailable to everyone in my life except some of my physically closest friends. I take a lot of naps. I also take a long time to heal. I’m a lot better but also he haunts me and so I’m working on letting go.
I think I hate my job and I feel like I’m going to do some restless, rash thing like quit and move. They have all these options to help you live and get better but I don’t want to promise my life to them. I want to write and paint and live in a studio warehouse with my dogs and make films or whatever, you know? I want to create and express because I know that’s my purpose & it ignites me.
I just feel very shut off. I’m afraid; I’m afraid of opening up and sharing. I don’t know why I care so much but also maybe because my heart can’t handle it, I need to be more aware and less sponge-like in regards to absorbing people’s feelings or criticisms or power: I want to be free and help everyone else free, too.
I feel like this requires a lot of naps in the dark with sleeping dogs. I do a lot of thinking so I need to do more acting and following through now, it’s my goal. Less panic and more productivity.
I’ve been eating mostly rice. I gained 10lbs or so again recently because I haven’t been walking. Don’t ask me about the vacuum. I pretty much stopped shaving but it still makes me self conscious. I want to not shave my legs and still wear all my dresses and be fabulous looking. So in my own little world I guess.
#dog #snowdog A new personal favorite picture of Oakley. He looks like he’s a swimming sea otter or something.
So excited to finally get my pretty paws on this book. Yes, I do plan on crying throughout. #lindenberg #loveanindex
I need to reply to an email from months ago but have been hesitant to do so for fear of making myself too open. I don’t know how much to keep to myself; it’s always been difficult to know when to say enough or when I’ve said too much (a life struggle with balance.) A part of me thinks, why hold anything back? Why ever hold your tongue? Another part says, why does that person deserve to be exposed to that vulnerable & open side of you? Why expend the energy, what’s the point?
Then there’s the whole thing about not knowing how or where to unclench my fists and just let go.