DAR: A Super Girly Top Secret Comic Diary » Archive » Super Power.

I had a “what if” dream last night. It was about something that had already happened but instead of the way it did play out – this was the alternative ending. It was just kind of weird.

This morning I told Poeks and I realized that if we didn’t talk and didn’t try our best to open and what not with each other – there would be many more instances where we tiptoe around each other or just don’t trust each other.

This isn’t to say we’re perfect, we’re definitely not – but we’ve spent a lot of effort and tears trying to find a balance. We’re not there yet. I’m not sure if we ever will be, but at least I’ll know I tried my hardest which is the hardest I’ve ever tried in any relationship.

I normally break up, run away, or just act like a jerk with people I date… mostly because I expect them to leave me when they really get to know me because deep down I’m dark, intense, and in many ways still a little kid hiding under the bed. For some reason Poeks hasn’t run away yet, even though she’d definitely wanted to and we’ve had our moments where we thought we were over…

There’s also been moments where one of us will say or do something to the other one that hurts and our friends will sometimes ask “Why are you putting up with that?” or “You deserve better” or even “This doesn’t sound good.” And it’s not to say they aren’t right – but – what you think you’ll do and what you do are sometimes two VERY VERY different things.

Last night I was on the phone for about 2 hours with a friend just talking about whatever and at one point we started talking about 80s movies and what ones we saw as a kid in the theater. We also talked a little about toys, clothing, and whatever. It was funny to remember lines from Pee Wee or some other movie. Of course you know my life revolves around Ghostbusters and who knows how many times I’ve watched it – but I can’t recite a single line. It’s as if my mind just chose to not remember things like that. Yet, I can remember lines of poetry, song lyrics, and other things.

I have a friend in North Carolina who works with people who have autism and she had recently come to NYC for a few days. During that time we talked about the kids and adults that she works with and how some of them learn to talk and express themselves through music. She is a music therapist and has used some techniques such as asking a question while beating a drum to give it a rhythm and the child answers back to that rhythm.

I wonder if in some way I retain information or quotes better in my brain if I can associate it to a beat or pulse. When I was in high school I could never memorize things – but then when I started taking poetry classes in college, I could recall lines, phrases, and then deconstruct and interpret their meanings. I even ended up taking a graduate level english course my senior year because I had time, and it was a poetry course.

I’m not in any way saying I’m autistic but I know there are ways the brain develops in people and helps them learn, understand, and also compensate for a weaker part – like idiot souvants or such. So I wonder if my little brain likes musical things and remembers it better than a speech, book, or movie. I do tend to remember conversations but I think of conversations as verses to song. The thing is, I’m not that musically inclined. I can’t play music by ear, my aural skills weren’t good enough to be a sound recording major, I am not able to play many instruments, and I struggle to read music if it is not in a key of C. I never learned how to really read music, only whatever basic things I was taught in grammar school — you know, FACE, EGBDF – that stuff. So jumping to another key takes me a few minutes to transpose the notes.

Well – the point of this is:

I may never ever be able to recite a sonnet but I bet I could tell you every word to “It’s The End of the World” by R.E.M.

I complained in a joking manner on Fri night that I’m always in transition… that it’s always my “Blakean Year.” In some ways that’s a good thing – it can mean I’m always evolving.  In other ways it can be frustrating, hard, and feel like there is no end goal. Then again, some people would say the journey is the destination.  What happens if you tire of the journey though?

Moving to Portland, Or is exciting and I’m not as scared about it as I was back in May.  I’m looking forward to leaving NYC even though it won’t be easy and I’ll be sad when the day actually comes around. This is my home, I know the places I like to go by heart even if I can’t remember the street name it is on, how to get there, or what it is called – it’s just instinct at this point and my pathways to certain parks, stores, and bars may not be the most direct route but they are my routes and my ways of getting around the city.

There are plenty of things I’ve never seen or done in this city – touristy or not – and that’s ok. I’m not leaving for good.

The other strange thing is that I keep thinking – thinking about things that aren’t relevant to my current position in life or perhaps they are in some way – since in some ways I’m leaving memories behind or something.  It’s not as if I’ve never lived away from NYC before. But my college days were temporary 10 month dorms or houses and I guess that affected my brain differently than this.  I almost moved to Boston one time, almost moved to San Fran, almost moved to Rochester. What kept me?  Money… money and doing it alone.  I’m not the most brave soul in terms of traveling.  I will willingly stand in the line of fire for a friend, an animal, but not always for myself and not always go on an adventure or take a risk.  I’ve gotten better at this and getting closer to being bold.

Where am I going with this?

A friend of mine called me Fri night and was in the “Bell Jar” – we talked but it was impossible to get anywhere with the conversation since he was at a bar and I couldn’t always hear him and he couldn’t hear me.  The few things that we did clearly talk about sunk into me that night and made me start thinking or brought to the surface things I’ve been thinking about for a while but haven’t allowed to really drown me.  Then Sat. I got a text from him asking all these “have you ever” sort of rhetorical questions.

I answered honestly that YES I have felt hopeless, I have felt helpless, I have felt electric and burned out, I have felt that my strides to get somewhere have been useless… and that in the end, here I am… with my demons and my distortions all breaking me down and some days are better than others.  Some days are calm and others are one big wild fire that can and has consumed me.  I told him he needs to really start seeing his therapist again.

Then camera shift to my better half:

She’s been busy working, playing around on the interwebz, and making art. I love the fact that there are paints in the fridge, unfinished art projects in the kitchen, and her photoshop application is ALWAYS open. I love that she’s looking at photography, paintings, and media art by other artists and learning about new ones on a regular basis.

Aside from this she is also expanding her circle of random internet-based friends, as am I.  However, she pointed out to me that it is exhausting and sometimes exasperating. She’s also noted a few times to me that some of her random conversations with people seem like she’s in some sort of “sister” role or “mother” role which is not like my gf.  She’s more so the friend, the one who listens and then might fidget a little since she’s not sure what to say and will default to what is definitely needed – a hug.  You can’t hug online.  But the sister role has only been one I’ve seen between her and her sister… ONLY.

To see this role being transferred to someone else was good and seemed to give my gf a little boost of “Hey, I’m in a position to offer advice and talk.” However, I’m also seeing the negative side of this appearing on her face. She’s definitely more mentally worn out than before. She’s communicating her thoughts a little less to me, which is noticeable since my gf has a hard time talking about herself to begin with… and even the slightly fractional change makes a difference to me. However, she is talking to me about the thoughts that run through her head regarding the newly formed friendship and it’s interesting to see a newer side of my gf appear and hear her think out loud to me.

On a selfish note: I get the feeling my gf is retaining facts and things with more precision than she usually has executed.  It seems she’s remembering stories, events, and things that are being told to her lately better than what I’ve told her.  Last night I asked her what date something happened to me and she got the date wrong.  It wasn’t a big deal but at the same time it was… I know she never remembers and often times I also forget when the day itself rolls around. However, like I said – this is the selfish note.

On the other hand – I tell people things about me in such a matter-of-fact way that most probably think I’m over it, worked through it, and it’s done… the cards were dealt and I played the hand… and that’s that.  For the most part, that’s how I view it too but when I am in the state of mind I’m in – I suddenly feel like I’m drowning in all these past-present things and it annoys me. But I also want sympathy and yet don’t want it. The notion of being vulnerable like this is disgusting to me on many levels and also necessary to my well-being. I’m aware of that.  It’ll help me be stronger, smarter, and more able to deal with my future as time goes on.

At this moment in time – I’m just blech… and it would be nice of my better half was a bit more involved in a dialogue with me than with these imaginary friends. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been asked anything personal by her or to really rehash anything and I can almost guarantee she doesn’t know everything. It’s like the unspoken gorilla in the living room… just walk around it… just walk… around it.

Friday night when Poeks and I went to dinner with my friend and former prof and two other former Fredonia alumni – Sept 11th was brought up. I mentioned that I lost touch with a friend after that. She basically called me, then came to visit, and then that was it.

This was someone who I had once thought I loved, or was in love with – and really, it was just friendship that was blurred and unhealthy and well, she strung me along a little too. In the end, I was the doormat. But anyway…

Julie & Julia takes place in 2002 – and has some reference points to 9/11.  I wasn’t prepared for it, didn’t know it, and immediately got a tightened chest and felt anxious.

No, I didn’t work at WTC. I have family that did and thank god none of them were there or had made it into work yet. I have friends who worked there – and all of them survived too. What I did lose was a “big brother” – my friend Dave’s big brother who was a firefighter.

These things take years to wash over me and penetrate my brain. At the time going to a few funerals and watching, recording, and reading all about the incident didn’t affect me.  Now, it does.  I must be slow to react or have some odd post-trauma thing going on.

Same thing is happening recently with other losses I’ve had in my life. I’m facing up to a lot of death lately and it’s no fun. NO FUCKING FUN AT ALL.