Rain and more Rain

According to the National Weather service:

A low pressure center over Puerto Rico is not yet a tropical depression but could become one soon . A flash flood watch has been posted for Puerto Rico and the U. S. Virgin Islands and flash flood warnings are in effect for parts of eastern Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands. Dangerous flooding and mudslides will be an issue through Monday.

We have gotten 15 inches of rain since last night, reports claim we will average approximately 4 inches of rain per hour today. The temperature has dropped from 98 degrees to a chilly 72 degrees. You are probably thinking 72 isn't chilly but when your home is built of cinder block and cement and you live on a tropical island with extreme humidity and the temperature drops more than 25 degrees, trust me it's a chilly damp air that invades your core, OK my core but whatever.
That's the view from my balcony, behind all that gray are green lush mountains and palm trees. Yesterday after a little housework I spent the day in bed, looks like today I am doing the same.

"Into each life some rain must fall, some days must be dark and dreary"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Time

It's been a long time since I posted. I haven't really felt like saying much. I'm not socializing, keeping up with my email, or my blog comments, in fact I am not doing much of anything. I am still just struggling to get through each day. I have never been very good at sharing my pain or hurt. (although I am better than I use to be) I have this tendency to isolate myself from life when I can't get things to make sense to me. I go through the motions and do what needs to be done but I do as little as is needed to accomplish the task. I talk when I have to, drive when I have to, yeah, basically I just live because it seems I have to. I have been sick a lot in the last 4 months and still feel a non specific physical malaise. If you look at all the signs (and I have) depression seems to have reared it's ugly head. Anger is way up there as well. Yeah and all those other stages of grief have followed. Having loved ones die sucks the juice of pond scum.

My cousin Tony says "time heals nothing, you just have to set your mind at healing and do it". I agree it's all a mind thing, an attitude thing but time does allow you the room to start healing. Time allows you the freedom to ponder, reflect, contemplate where you want to go and even why taking certain paths are the wiser choice. My cousin Olga said that when her sister died (my cousin Gilda) the hardest part was realizing that no one understood the depth of her grief. I find that to be true as well. Everyone around me has also suffered a loss but no one understands the magnitude of my loss. (not that they should). It's one of the many pieces which leads to isolation. I need to be alone with my pain because no one feels it like I do, no one lived it like I did or have. I have felt so broken in the last 4 months that I was surprised everyday that I bothered to wake up and get out of bed. Sadly many days I wished I hadn't bothered to get up.

Many years ago I read a quote that I have always held close because it somehow matched how I felt I lived my life. I can't remember who said it ( I could look it up but why bother) it read " When you come to the end of all the light you have known and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown. Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught how to fly". Through all the trials and tribulations of my life I have found I've always had something solid to stand on. Right now, at this moment in my life I am hoping to learn to fly.

Which brings me back to time ... time is slowly teaching me to fly. I am doing better, each day feels lighter. Each day sucks a little less then the day before. That's progress. I still don't feel physically well but I am sleeping better and that helps. I have managed to go shopping and buy clothes that fit. It's rather surprising how much weight I have lost in four months. Then again maybe it's just as surprising how much I had gained prior to the last 4 months. Either way, I now have pants/shorts that fit and people are constantly commenting about how skinny I have gotten. Time allowed me to realize that losing weight was a good thing, how I went about losing weight was a bad thing.

I am doing better. I need to make some life decisions, find a new direction. I am mentally making note of things I need to do and how it will affect those around me. I've been keeping up with the news. Although I am a U.S. citizen, I am not a resident of the U.S. so I can't vote in presidential elections. If I could vote I would not be voting for the duo that insults my intelligence and stands for taking away my freedom of choice. My body, my choice, 'nuff said. We haven't been in a hurricane's direct path (like in Haiti or Cuba) but the extreme weather did cause us to lose power and water for 5 days. I don't really give a shit about Lesley Lohan and her sexuality. Nor do I care much about who is currently entering rehab and why. I do care that Lawrence Fishburn is joining the cast of CSI.

Time doesn't heal but it compliments the healing process. It's been a slow process and I don't really feel much like "me" right now but I can sense that I am still here, just a little more convoluted then I use to be. I still feel hurt but not as broken. I still want to sleep the day away but not as often. I still want to isolate myself but am starting to miss my family and friends. I still don't feel well but sleeping normal hours and eating daily meals are happening more often. I don't feel like I have something solid to stand on but with time on my side I am learning to fly.

Finally (yeah, bet you thought this post was never gonna end) I must thank each and everyone one of you (again and again) for the emails, comments, texts, phone calls, threats, bribery, and positive energy sent my way. I may be depressed but I never lose sight of the love. Muchas gracias from the bottom of my convoluted corazon. I hope to be back posting more often after a couple more flying lessons.

Cabo Rojo

I have absolutely nothing of any real substance to post about right now. But while I was pondering how to advertise for a new muse, I went to the beach. I live on an island that's what we do when we need an escape from ... well you know, an escape from the lush vegetation. I went to Cabo Rojo. (you can read about Cabo Rojo by following the link). I'm still working on getting rid of this massive void in my heart but the sun and ocean did some good. I did take a few pictures for your viewing enjoyment. Salt flats More salt flats
One of the many things Cabo Rojo is known for is it's salt flats. In Fact "el Combate" beach is so named for the fights that took place among locals for possession of the salt flats. (salt was once worth a pretty penny)

El Combate Beach, it was this crowded all week.

Look at those crowds! There must be 10 people in the water.

My beach chair, where I sat pondering life, on the very crowded beach.

Nothing like bringing a 16 year old along when you ponder life. (my brother, Albert)

An even better thing to do when "pondering life" is to bring 3 sixteen year olds with you to the beach. See that look on my brothers face? He was really into the whole pondering thing.

The beach was fun, I got a little sun burnt, I left with no answers to any of my life's questions but I escaped the sadness for a short while and that was worth it. (And my hives are almost gone, in case you were wondering).

Get the party started

I haven't been here in a while. The last few weeks have moved at a snails pace and often times I have felt I was watching from a distance. Watching from far away but not too far, just far enough to stay engaged yet not let on to how I really feel. Know what I mean? The hives are better, yet the grief is worse. The energy involved in day to day living is exhausting. I'm tired. The insomnia is kicking my ass. If I sleep it's for short spurts. I toss and turn, my mind wanders. I ponder the last 4 months, the last year, the last 4 years and so on until I fall asleep again. Not the flowers in my hair nor my favorite red pants are helping to get me out of this funk.

Ever have one of those moments in life when you question all the whys? Why did he have to die? Why are people so stupid? Why does my cat think he can get his big fat ass into that small round space? Why are the lizards in the back of the house bright green and the ones in the front of the house brownish? Why do I feel so alone lately? Why am I here? Why are life's lessons so fucking hard? Why can't I find shorts I like? Why are my boobs breasts standing between me and that great t shirt that doesn't come in my size because I happen to have boobs breasts.? Why do some women insist on wearing clothes that are 2 sizes too small? Why do these women think they look sexy? Why can't these same women get a fucking pedicure before they squeeze those ugly cracked feet into too small sandals? Why do I find myself weeping at the most inopportune times? Why do I feel I should rant to you about all this shit? Because I am having one of those moments where I question the whys. And I'm miserable and you know what they say, "misery loves company" and I just invited you to my "misery party". Lucky little huckleberries.

My party decor will be brown, I hate the color brown. I'm adding a little splash of some bright cheerful color (like red or purple) because well, I'm miserable not suicidal. There is a guest register, be sure to sign in. Otherwise I may not remember you were here. Misery = forgetful, your mind gets a little cloudy from sadness and lack of sleep. What about misery party food? I'm supplying mangoes and avocados (they are fabulous not miserable) but they are in season right now and I can't give those things away. We'll add a few rotten ones just to take the misery down a notch. We have plenty of bananas as well, take some on your way out. There will be several Jello molds, nothing like 3 or 4 Jello molds to bring a party down. As for beverages ... hell yeah, plenty of that. only the alcoholic kind allowed. Alcohol fuels misery, don't ya know. How about drugs, you ask? Drugs, sure, bring your own. Just keep it on the "low" those are illegal, and I would never do anything illegal. (wink wink, nudge nudge). Party favors? Absolutely! Misery loves presents. Your "Misery party bag" comes in your choice of colors, brown and another shade of brown, both festooned with gravestones and the grim reaper in a glittery beige hue. Copies of Silvia Plath's (aka Victoria Lucas) "The bell jar", and " The Stranger" by Albert Camus will be among the fabulous gifts inside. I'm including some gummy bears and chocolate (because again we are miserable not suicidal) and lastly one of those rubber/plastic bracelets to commemorate the miserable occasion. It will read "Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated" (quote stolen from the Borg). Please feel free to bring me a gift worthy of my sadness. Party on my little huckleberries.

In comments please RSVP and let me know if you are bringing anything or what you're wearing for such an inauspicious occasion.