Ali Undone

come back

so maybe this is me caving in. come back. if you read this at all, come back. I can't stand it anymore.

I try to remember how good it had been. I try to reach back in the far corners of my former self to collect moments that meant something - anything at all to tide me over this unbelievably deep rut that I am so mercilessly dumped in. I try to remember what warmth there was, but every memory is so distant, remembering succeeds only in more stinging tears. I hate crying. There really is no point to all the water-works. It never solves anything and it only makes me feel uglier with all the puffy slits that pretend to be eyes and the blotchy nose.

Right now, I like having my face licked and caressing the soft almond colored curly fur. I like the furry warmth in my bed next to me and tiny paws on my chest trying to wake me up. It is my most welcome distraction from this sorry excuse of a life. but wouldn't you know it, it's like I'm seven again and all alone with a dozen shadows to talk to.

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I have been attempting to get a hold of myself. Every day I try my best to be patient and to just let thing go. But what a complete and total failure I have been. It all feels like each day just goes from  bad to worse.

I see myself teeter tottering. I am afraid and lonely. How do I explain myself when I am unable to make sense of anything? I am so tired like no one would believe. I am just so very very tired. No amount of reading or writing or pilates can seem to shake it off.

So the other day I bought shoes in the hopes of finding freedom in running. It made things better when I was alone and sick and miserable in college. I think I have a bigger problem now because I am still sick and miserable even when I am supposedly not alone anymore.

I don't even understand why I ended up here. It shouldn't be like this. I was supposed to be happy sharing my life with somebody. Instead we sleep with our backs to each other and cold conditioned air in between. There is a growing lump in the middle of the mattress and I am unable to make it go away.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I just want to be happy.

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the monster rears its ugly head

Every day is like a test with this husband. Every single day he wears me thin. It's as if he has taken it upon himself to find out just how much I can take before I boil over into an uncontrollable fit of anger.

The infinitely annoying smart aleck in him irritates me to no end. I don't need sass. I have enough on my mind to keep me occupied for the rest of my life. I don't need someone who makes it his goal to annoy me. There are enough annoying people in my life. I don't need extra aggravation. God knows I pray for happiness every morning when I regain consciousness. Now wit is something else. But believe me, his answers to serious questions are not witty. I wish they were.

Its a lot like being a balloon that is endlessly inflated until it finally loses the battle and explodes all over the place. If there was powder in it you'd see traces. But because I am not a balloon I rage and wail and throw things. I scream into the pillow, into the wall, bang a wooden spoon on the kitchen counter and succeed in breaking it. I cry too.

I cry mostly out of frustration. I hate being out of control. I was crazy so many times in my life but I was never out of control. All the things I did I did with purpose - whether or not it made sense- there was purpose in it. Even acts of stupidity. But I've never had to deal with this much anger. I feel like I am two different people. I am starting to be afraid of my angry self. But this husband could not be begged for help. I tried begging for mercy too. But none came.

So in the darkest of nights I think to myself that maybe it's time to let go of this relationship. I had hoped to be married to someone who would bring out the best in me. This man it seems, has turned me into this incredible monster. I have never been so angry with somebody, so many times in my entire life.

Did I make a mistake when I married him?

Tags: anger, marriage, relationships, crap

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Must Love Dogs

I have this favorite scene, where she runs in desperation after this man because she had something to say. It was so important for her to say it right then that she believed she had to jump into freezing water just to reach him right away. And because she overcame her fear, the dog did too. And it all ends well.

I wish I could say I had known what it was like to be ready to explode with truth and brutal honesty that I did something ridiculous just to have it out with. But no. Unless you count the million times I saw it in my mind's eye.

I wonder how many revelations end so well. Half time, the things we choose to hide are usually stuff that will probably hurt or disappoint. Who wants to reveal any of that? Maybe at the brink of death, we might feel that since there is no time to suffer the consequence of such revelations, we might as well spill the terrible beans. But how cruel to share the secret at the end of time! How depressing to leave a path of unknown ache as we pass away.

But where do we get the courage to just come out with it? Shouldn't our lives be about striving to make it so that there are no ghosts up the attic? Ah but what do I really know?

Tags: must love dogs, movies, secrets, blah

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at my wits end

He's been picking on me for days. days I tell you. days. I have had it. I want to strangle him and watch him die. Maybe tear his heart out while I'm at it. I am so mad at him.

I tried crying and screaming to let all the frustration out but it has not fixed me.

I just want to spend my days with someone who actually believes that I matter. I just want to live with somebody who will not force me to eat green stuff that I never like. I just want to be with someone who will not laugh at me when I am upset over something.

I just want to be happy. Is that too much to ask for?

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bad bad belly

Went to bed last night with a bad belly. Woke up this morning to a bad belly. Spent half the morning in the bathroom trying to coax the bad stuff out. It staunchly refused. It came out in the most annoyingly stubborn painful trickles.

It's Saturday. How can it be the ickiest crap day of my week?

Tags: crap day, bad belly, tummy ache, loose bowels, ick, yuck

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fun. :) I wish I could make something like this.

TV1: Beach from sixty40 on Vimeo.

Tags: stop motion video

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The Best Time

I will be thirty years old in December.

People have been relentless in reminding me that the biological clock is ticking - therefore, I should have kids like right now. I've said it once before and I say it again and again that it will happen in God's time. I say in God's time because I really don't know when it's going to be. Some people just jump right into it. Most people just grow into it knowing what to do. I don't know what to do. Come to think of it, I am twenty nine years old and I'm not so sure I know what I really want. I mean I do want things to happen but I am never sure if I truly want them to happen until they actually happen. The experience is usually different from the dream.

You think you know what it's gonna be like when you flip the scenes over and over in your mind but when you finally reach that moment you realize that it was never all that you had hoped for it to be. Mostly because you didn't know that moment as a whole. You think that if you had the snippet you imagined, that would be all there was to it. But it's never like that. At least not for me anyway.

But I am a firm believer in the best time. I am convinced that things have a way of happening when they're supposed to happen. Who knows when the exact moment will come? Do I really want to know?

Tags: life, time, experiences, waiting, hope

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Smoked Salmon on baguette

The Mister's friend sent us a bottle of Zinfandel. We decided to have smoked salmon on baguette to enjoy it. And it worked. :)

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Paella for lunch

I made paella for my father today. We had it for lunch. I think he liked it. It seemed like his cook liked it too. I hope they really liked it. I worked so hard to make it good.

But I really don't know for sure if they truly liked it because it tasted like good paella or if they really liked it because they knew I worked so hard making it.

The happy thought of the day is that it does not matter whether they tasted good paella or my dish full of love, because either one of those things taste really really good! (although I would have liked it to be a technically good dish...)

Tags: paella, lunch, love

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