Monday, September 27, 2010

When the weather gets hot

The homeopath thinks maybe all this bloating and stomach pain relates to the end of my relationship with Chris. I guess that’s around when it started. And maybe she’s right -- because he stopped me from feeling in the moment, I’ve never been able to cry about it. I cried on my father’s deathbed, sobbed. I cried when my grandmother was dying. But I haven’t cried about the death of this relationship that meant so much to me, more than those relationships except maybe not in that childlike way. In a different childlike way, the place of hope I was able to claim for myself in the new world I was creating, we were creating together.

It’s true that when I thought I saw Chris the other day, coming out of the convenience store across the street, the feeling hit me right in the stomach like someone punched me there, not a cliché but the actual feeling. Maybe that’s what I need now, is to cry about it, to release all this pain inside me. I think one of the first things I’m going to do when I get to Santa Fe is to find a therapist. And maybe I should find one now, even though I’ll only be here for another month or so, maybe I can figure out some kind of closure. Maybe I’ll call Chris again, just to see if he’ll offer anything, even though I can’t imagine he will.

The homeopath is sending a new remedy, one to take once for emotional release, maybe that will help too. At least she’s giving me something new to think about, I mean of course I’ve been thinking about how I’m still traumatized by the loss of my relationship with Chris, how I still feel it every day, how I still feel scared about seeing him, because of the last times when he was so angry, how it goes to that childhood panic, and then I’m still stuck. And maybe that feeling is stuck here, in this particular place in my body, too.

Now that I somewhat obsessively look at the weather in San Francisco and Santa Fe, I’ll admit it’s always comforting to look at Seattle -- cool and rainy, maybe that’s where I’ll end up after Santa Fe. Although it’s way too depressing to experience the seven eight months of dark you get, oh my -- not to mention mold mold mold. Okay, I’ll switch my focus back to Santa Fe. Today I tried out one of my new sun hats that’s actually kind of comfortable, except when there’s a gust of wind it starts to blow away. I think the problem with these hats is that they don’t really fit, I need something a bit larger I guess, although I haven’t found anything yet -- I guess women’s hats are made for people with small heads, or smaller heads than mine anyway.

Heat wave drama -- at least today it’s not so humid but my head is a mess -- allergies for sure, although today they say the pollen count is low. Maybe the pollution -- in the middle of the night there was all this smoke coming into my apartment, I almost got up and went in the hall to open all the windows, just in case. Not enough wind, I guess, wind to blow away all the pollution and maybe my downstairs neighbors are smoking in their apartment again, or someone else, but at least I’ll be gone in a month -- I just hope I don’t get any neighbors who smoke. I’m starting to wonder about car exhaust, since I’ll be so much closer to it -- pretty much everything in Santa Fe is one or two stories, mostly one in the neighborhood I’m thinking of moving to. Maybe I’ll have to look for something insulated a bit from the road. Have I ever lived on the ground level? I’ve lived on the first floor, but even that’s always been up a flight of stairs. Except in Provincetown. Then I had a little cabin behind a big house, that was nice. Maybe that’s what I’ll get again.

I guess this is kind of like a hot day in Santa Fe -- dry and warm, but when I go outside it’s okay because of the shade from the buildings, at least at 11:30 am. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think there will be any shade for my morning walk in Santa Fe -- definitely not much shade from the buildings, since they’re so small. Maybe I’ll leave when the weather gets hot.

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