kateeviscerate











{August 17, 2011}   Being Here Now

Just finished an AMAZING book by Noah Levine called Dharma Punx. It’s about a junkie/gutter punk from Santa Cruz (now why on earth would I empathize with that?) who finds himself (or salvation if you go in for all that jazz) through meditation and Buddhist practice.

I love recovery autobiographies. Actually, books, films, trashy Lifetime network movies…anything to do with someone spiraling into the hell of their own creation. My usual pattern is to read voraciously during the juicy parts-I sucked dick for crack, got stuck in my neighbor’s dog door while stealing a vcr, crashed my car with a bottle of JD in my lap and vomited on the good samaritan attempting to pull me from the flaming wreckage- you know, the good stuff. Once the book’s hero is on the road to recovery however, I schlog through the rest of the reading like it’s homework. (Fun Kate Fact #47: I almost NEVER not finish a book. I guess its one of the only areas of my life I am excellent at followthrough.)

This book was different. Drugs were never the main focus, the punk rock scene was. The feeling of homecoming you get when something is really, really right he found through music. So did I. He lost it through anger, fear, and drugs. So did I. Noah begins to use meditation and undertakes a massive spiritual quest to square his outsides with his insides- to be both a punk, and at peace. At least according to his version of events, he succeeds. I hope to follow.

“All of this is to say:wake up! Look at your own life and see what is true about yourself. Freedom is available, the trick is to stop looking out there for it and to sit down, shut up and see for yourself that your truest nature, however deeply buried or obscured, is closer to love than anythign else.” Noah Levine



That’s Elliot Smith, for those not in the know. He eviscerated himself as well, although a bit more literally than me…

After eight months of radio silence, my sister called my work today. She wants something from me. That’s standard. Never anything like money etc, cause she’s “successful”. She ignores me until she feels bad about herself- she’s like a puzzle and I’m the only one with the answers. As long as she’s whole I’m useless to her.

So once again I jump on the carousel, grasping for the brass ring that is “good enough”. I know I can’t get there. Even if I am really good enough. Even if I may be better than good enough. i will always be seen as substandard in the eyes of my mother, sister and relatives. It was that way before I took up “horse riding” and it sure as hell is that way now….



{August 11, 2011}   Somebody thinks I responsible!!!

So my boss hasn’t paid me in three weeks and I think I need to start looking for a new job.
I haven’t managed to accomplish any of this week’s goals…at all.
My brother had to break into the upstairs apartment to find the tweekers hiding in the walls and forcibly evict them. I have been verbally (first sympathetically and then violently) encpourgaing them to leave as they were unpaid as of the first.

But I met the property manager today. And MY LANDLORD TRUSTS ME!!!! I can do a lot with the trust of a good person. I may be a screw up, but if I know someone who I care about (who deserves it) depends on me, I’ll break myself to help them. The property manager thanked me profusely, has offered to pay me, and I get the opportunity to help a lady (the landlord) who gave me a chance when I had nothing. It feels so fucking good to be the repsonsible one!!! He actually told me that ” as far as he and the landlord are concerned this house is mine” They trust me THAT MUCH!
That said, as of Tuesday my boss will owe me $850 and that’s him getting away with paying me NOTHING. I sort of hope my hours do get cut so I can get a job where I get paid.

Even so not even being broke or gross porn renters or sneaky squatters can ruin my mood. *knock on wood* I’m happy and dare I say proud

knock on wood
knock on wood
knock on wood
(I really hope I didn’t jinx myself…)



{August 8, 2011}  

I should have just walked away. (a little background) I am the caretaker of our house. A week ago I went to collect rent from upstairs and they said they needed a few days. I called our sweet little old lady landlord and she said no problem. For the past few days the neighbors have been getting harder and harder to pin down. They will scoot past my room to buy from dopeman, avoiding eyecontact like they get paid to do it. And I have been getting physically sicker and sicker wondering how I am going to deal with the landlord. Haven’t kept food down in three days but, Hey? Who/s counting? I’ve been begging doepma n for minutes for my phone but inststead skank needed a new 200 flat iron (so she can job hunt lol) I shouldn’t have. Really. But I asked the dopeman for a taste. A little piece of dragon to chase the nightmres away before I h=ve to get up at six AM, shlog to the clinic and hen head to work where i call the landlord to tell her the upstairs tenants stole 1420$ from her and trashed the apartmen t. He made me beg In a room full of laughing junkies. Don’t get me wrong, I still did it. I just shouldn’t have.



{August 6, 2011}   MMmmmmm…Brains

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R-V846_Mm8



Like pretty much every kid, there were days when I prayed for adulthood.  Ididn’t care about getting married, raising a family or having a career. I just didn’t want anyone to freaking tell me what to do.  EVER AGAIN.  In a way, I’ve achieved that.  My boss at the video store is pretty hands off, my roommates are never gonna yell if I don’t do my laundry or make my bed.  In esscence, I’m the boss of me.  Lately, though I’ve begun to wonder if that’s such  good thing.  I have a generalized anxiety disorder that makes it really difficult for me to leave my house-especially if I’m travelling into uncharted territory.  For the past few years my coping process has been to not do anything I don’t feel comfortable doing.  Thus my life consists of work, methadone clinic, a little hanging with the roomies and watching endless amounts of movies in my room.  Comfortable, yes.  Happy? Not exactly.  Fulfilled? No way.  So I’m going to do my damndest to step outside my safe little cave.  For starters, here is a list of things I am NOT going to flake out on this week.  You heard it here first, folks. Now hold me to it!

1. Meeting my friend Mac after work tomorrow. I don’t care how tired I am.  It doesn’t matter that he’s seven months sober and I won’t be able to grab a post work beer.  His dog just died, and he needs a friend. It’s not like he expects me to throw him a goddamn parade, just be there…and, for once, I plan to whether I feel like it or not.

2.  Check out the health realization meeting after work on Sunday.  I already called the contact lady and not only does she seem really nice but she told me it’s fine if I’m a little late (the meeting starts at six which is when my shift ends).  I really need some sort of soberish support group.  I’ve only been talking about it for three years. I think I can devote an hour of my oh so precious time to this meeting.

3.  Calling O and A.  They are customers at my work who have gone out of their way to befriend me.  They have extended numerous invitations and their house is directly on my way home from work.  When O found out I was working a twelve hour shift tonight, he stopped by with some uber dank just to brighten my day.  I like these people and would love to be friends with them.  I’m just terrible at picking up the phone.  But not this week.  I WILL call these people.  Perhaps I will even venture over to their house with a six pack of fat tire and a good attitude.  The sky’s the limit 🙂

 



et cetera