Finding My Limits VII

The irritation was only strengthened once my flight was delayed for an hour.  I have no idea why I cannot depart on time even once and worse yet is that I can never seem to get constant Wifi in the LaGuardia airport...so here I sit fuming and waiting to take off and unable to fight with Mike.

I walked back up the corridor to grab a coffee and anything I could find that was gluten free, delicious and not a piece of fruit or vegetables.  I was too pissed off to eat healthy; I wanted some comfort food.  My options were terribly limited so I grabbed corn chips and found a corner in the airport where I could play Candy Crush and forget that last twenty four hours of my life...

Finding My Limits VI

This guy has some serious nerve! Now the only reason I wanted to go to Long Island was to punch him in the throat but I hailed a cab instead and headed straight to LaGuardia.  I was furious, throwing my bag in the trunk and trying my best not to snap at the driver.  I sat in the back seat and reread his email a few times hoping something would click and clear the anger from my thoughts to reply in a productive manner but each time I read his message my blood boiled and I was nearly frothing at the mouth.

I started a sentence at least half a dozen times before I settled on just a few and as much as I wanted those words to be "Fuck you"...they were not.  I have told Mike off more than one time in the past and he never got the message or maybe he never took me seriously so this time I went out of my way to be cutting with my words.

              Dear Mike,

              I no longer wish to be invited to your pity parties.  I find it sad and disgusting as you             wallow in your hurt and expect me to constantly give in to your victim mentality.  I owe you nothing     and when I tried to be a friend you chose to be a jerk.  The next time you send me a picture of a gun I am calling the police.

                Nat

I looked up to discover I was at the airport, I pressed send and made my way into the Westjet counter still vibrating with anger and sadness...

Finding My Limits V

I was standing in Penn Station debating whether I should store my luggage, change my flight and grab a train to Long Island or take the cab to LaGuardia with hope he didn't do anything desperate. I pulled my luggage a couple of blocks and ducked into a Starbucks for a coffee and moment to regroup my thoughts and anxieties...but mostly it gave me Wifi to check my email to see if he finally got back to me.

I held my breath when I seen his email pop up. I felt awful when my first thought was that he was alive and I could finally put the lid back on Pandora's box if I just never say another word and walked away free and clear...but I care for this man deeply.  I'm not in love with Mike, but I do care about him and feel bonded through our darkness.  I opened the email expecting a few words explaining how he drank too much and passed out but that wasn't the case...he was angry and mean...this wasn't over...

Finding My Limits IV

I was stuck in traffic for over an hour trying to get Cleo to her kennel and hoping I would be back in time to catch my flight.  I still haven't slept and knew I wouldn't until I was in my own bed and even then I wasn't entirely convinced.  It had only been a few hours since my last email to Mike but I haven't heard a word and I even went to the extent of calling him and leaving voice mail messages.  I'm not ready for this type of support group and although I work closely with those suffering from addiction I don't really know Mike...I only see what he shows me and I have no idea if this is a cry for help and if it is I don't know the path to direct him to.

I pulled up to the giant warehouse of kennels and doggie daycare for Cleopatra and cried all over her pretty face wishing I didn't have to leave her and knowing she suffered from separation anxiety.  I watched her walk into her daycare class before I made my exit and I felt better knowing she was playing and not just watching me have to abandon her there.

Forty-five minutes later I was back in the apartment and finished packing my things.  It was time to go and nothing felt resolved...helplessness is an awful feeling as I am sure he is aware.

Finding My Limits III

I sat on the edge of the bed petting Cleopatra and holding my phone in my hand.  If I never heard from him again I would have no idea what happened nor would I have the comfort of closure.  I don't think he would hurt himself but then again I have no idea how much alcohol one needs to follow through with their darknesses wishes. I know he wants to live and have the picturesque family but just can't seem to get his shit together to have it or even encourage it into his life.  The emails stopped over an hour ago and I have sent one every few minutes hoping for any contact.  I have to drive Cleo to the kennel in a few hours and then make my way to the airport...could I really leave not knowing anything more?  I knew I would get on the plane if it was at the gate and ready to go. I can't play his game because I get pulled in far beyond my abilities...if I could just get him to go to a therapist then at least he would be on the right path...but how?  How do I get him to agree to going to a therapist?  I laid down beside Cleo and tried to relax; hoping for my phone to buzz and wishing I didn't care so much.

Finding My Limits II

I lost track of time flipping through my pictures and making notes on loose papers in my purse for my first chapter.  When my third beer arrived I decided to turn on my data for the internet since Mike will only use massage apps to talk with me.  My email had seven new messages so I started to open them. I knew he was at home drunk as soon as I opened the first one, it was a link to a youtube video for some song he was relating to...this was exactly his style...gets drunk then starts to find pity songs that he feels describes his life.  I opened four emails all pretty much the same with different links to songs and I was feeling pissed off that I was stupid enough to agree to meet him.  The last three emails made my stomach turn with anger and sadness; the first was a picture of bullets on his bed, then a rifle sitting beside them and finally one with him holding the gun.  What the fuck did he expect me to do?  He was on Long Island and I was in Midtown hours from heading back to Canada.  I hated him for doing this to me, I didn't even know his address anymore and he knew I couldn't go to see him.  It felt like he was looking for some company for his misery, he loved to torture me for some reason...perhaps he was testing my friendship...I didn't like the constant battle of proving myself to him.  I asked for the bill and finished my beer...his super power is making me feel as helpless as possible.  I walked out into the streets, took a deep breath and ran to the ally to throw up my Heineken...

Finding My Limits I

I was sitting in Carmine's in Times Square at a table for two that Mike reserved.  I wondered if he picked Carmine's because it was where we had our first date and if that's the case what was he expecting other than dinner.  This new relationship he is in seems just as toxic as the rest of his life and I worry, but stay clear.  I have leaned to keep him at arms length knowing that I'm easily drawn into his darkness and chaos.  He knows I won't feed him lies or garbage he wants to hear, but he also knows that I'll help him work it out when he is ready to do the work.  I remember when Dan said to me, "You can always talk to me but one day you might want to talk to someone who can give you insight and direction".  That's how I was feeling with Mike but with less of a tolerance than Dan.  I ordered a drink and reviewed the menu while I waited for my late dinner date.

Coaches and Classes XXII

Three hours from the time I locked my door in Jersey I was walking back through it and was instantly happy that I turned on the air conditioner before I left.  Cleo had moved to the couch and looked annoyed that I woke her up.  I found my pyjamas and crawled right back into bed, I planned to sleep for two hours, run for two hours, write for a few hours then pack and call it a night.  I had to take Cleo to the kennel and make my way through the city to LaGuardia by 3pm.

Less than half an hour after I closed my eyes I could hear Cleo whining to go outside and wished she could open the door to the roof without me.  I pulled myself out of bed and let her out. I grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the couch waiting for her to finish up.  I could hear my phone buzzing which was weird because I almost always have it on silent...it was Mike, and he was not doing very good.

I let Cleo in and dressed for my run...so much for sleep.  I'll meet Mike for dinner in a few hours...assuming he's not knee deep in vodka and self pity...

Coaches and Classes XXI

I flopped on her couch and closed my eyes while I listened to her talk to a client from Israel; I hoped she was running late and this was the beginning of her hour and not the end.  It took every ounce of energy to get me into the city today and the only thing I was dreading more was the run I had to complete when I arrived back to Jersey.  I reached down beside the couch and fumbled through my bag trying to feel around until I found my phone.  I didn't have any messages, I just wanted to cancel all other plans for the day.  I started with Mike and our late lunch in between shows he was shooting and  then I cancelled dinner plans for later this evening with someone I had yet to meet.  I decided to head back to Jersey after my coaching session and crawl into bed for a few hours, hopefully that would make me feel better and rejuvenated to complete my run.  I didn't mind Cleo as my dinner companion and as the trip was winding down I felt more of an urge to write and less of one to play around the city. 


I could hear her wrap up her call so I sat up and grabbed my notes from my bag.  Today I am doing my synopsis and parts of a query letter...I'm hoping I can have it done in an hour and home in two...

Coaches and Classes XX

I don't even remember falling asleep and I hit the snooze button at least four times.  My eyelids felt like sandpaper when I finally opened them and I would have slept all day if I didn't have so much on my plate that I needed to do.  I grabbed my towels and headed for the shower, stopping along the way to let Cleo out onto the roof.  I stood in the shower with my eyes closed only fear of falling if I fell asleep kept me awake.  I was going through my list of things that needed to be completed in the city before I would have to come back and run thirteen miles.  I wish I was better at training and actually would stick to a training schedule.

I was standing in my room trying to find shorts and secretly jealous that Cleo was already back sleeping on my bed.  When I was finally able to decide on something to wear, I threw my hair up on top of my head, grabbed my sunglasses, metro card and keys and headed for the streets.

I was just coming around the corner when the bus blew by me; it would be less than five minutes until one followed but I couldn't help but feel like it would be a representation of how the rest of my day would pan out....

Coaches and Classes XIX

I got back to Clarence's just as Cleopatra was bouncing off of the walls so I dropped my books and leashed her up.  We walked up the street to Kennedy BLVD and turned left to head back to her favourite park which was deserted at this time of the day.  I felt great but exhausted and this time I couldn't blame the heat.  I felt emotionally drained from all of the anxiety I had leading up to the reading and fears that went along with it.  After all was said and done my feed back was great and I intended to take all their suggestions and make my work better.  I knew coach was happy with my work and how well I managed to fit in with the group that had been closed for years.  Sometimes the soul knows where to go and what it needs to feel full and nurtured.

I watched Cleo bounce around the park like a puppy, it made me sad that I was leaving soon and I would have to drop her off at the kennel until Clarence returned.  I shook her leash and she ran over to me to continue our walk.  I have a noon appointment with my coach tomorrow and I can hardly wait to climb into bed.

Coaches and Classes XVIII

"Please slow down, you're reading too fast".  Well fuck lady I'm super nervous and scared, but fine I'll attempt to slow it down without sounding like I can't read.  Right out of the gate and I felt pounced on although not for my writing, just for my nervous reading.  Ten pages seemed to take forever to get through and I would hesitate when I felt self conscious about certain lines regarding my efforts as a mother; forgetting of course that they had my work in front of them and could read on without me.  I placed my last page down on the table and watched the class continue to write all over their copies.  Here is the difficult part about listening to feed back on the chapters I have written, first was that I started with the third chapter because that is where I needed help clarifying and second because they have no idea about what I have already written I am ambushed with questions I am not allowed to answer...part of accepting the feedback is not giving answers...I was going to explode while having to remain silent.  By the time the third person started to talk my coach started laughing and had to stop them to explain my book and how all their issues were discussed leading up to my 'Role Modelling' chapter.  When it was all said and done we spent the last thirty minutes discussing my private life...something that was not so private anymore.  Who knew I could shock and awe a bunch of New Yorker's.

We all walked down the stairs and into the streets of the East Village, it was nice to be back in a class.  We wandered down the street and stopped for a drink before we all went our separate ways until the next class.

Coaches and Classes XVII

Class was a great way for me to test out my new 'go fuck your standards' attitude because it meant putting myself out there and hoping for the best, but also trying to convince myself that it would be okay if I was light years behind my fellow writers.

There was ten of us sitting in a group and I wasn't entirely sure what to expect but I was okay going in blind.  I had all of my copies printed, stapled and ready for them to be ripped apart and inked up with comments and suggestions from my classmates.  The first person to read was a woman from Vancouver who was a trapeze star in an Asian circus something similar to Cirque de Soliel.  Her writing was great, I would easily read her book and learn about her life and the experiences she has had.  When she finished up everyone started to look around the room for who would begin the critiquing and just like in school when I didn't know the answer I stared at my feet.  When the young blond started to speak about the piece I knew immediately that I had a lot to learn in terms writing and editing.  The things they critiqued on I never even noticed...like how two characters have the same voice.  When it came to me I was able to weed out a few inconsistencies that needed clarity and gave a lot of positive feedback to lines I thought were genius.

I grabbed my bag, I was shaking while handing out my work...these people are about to see through a small window into my life.

Coaches and Classes XVI

I walked down the three flights of stairs and turned right when I stepped out onto the sidewalk.  I decided to stay close to save on travel time but wanted to grab something to eat.  I walked a couple of blocks then headed west on 14th Street, it was paved with restaurants and shopping.  I had all of my notes with me but left my computer behind to avoid carrying it any more than I had too.  I found a little vietnamese restaurant tucked in-between two shops and found a spot right under the air conditioner.  I ordered a vermicelli bowl with grilled chicken and proceeded to make the area my own personal work station.  The place was pretty empty for dinner hour so I didn't mind taking up the space.

I didn't even notice the young lady deliver my food, I was caught up in my notes and trying to write down as many points and ideas as I could come up with in my head.  I had just over an hour until I had to head back for class.  I felt a little intimidated, this class has been together for years and they have all written books...what was she thinking letting me into this?  I poured the fish sauce over my dinner with some hot sauce and tried to forget that I was out of my element...but there is no change if you never leave your comfort and comfort had become boring for Dan and I.  We wanted more than just existing together...we wanted the opportunity to take a shot at our dreams even if that meant living apart.

I gathered my things and paid the bill...I wondered how the class would receive my story but more importantly I was concerned if they would enjoy my style of writing...she must see something in me that made her think I was a good fit...right?

Coaches and Classes XV

The humidity is ridiculous and sitting in her apartment is not much better.  I couldn't possibly wear any less clothing and still be considered appropriate...by anyone's standards.  We were scheduled to complete the blueprint for my book and I am so excited to start the process not knowing of course what the entire process would entail.

She met me in her living room with her computer, note pads and a container of pens and pencils.  I prefer to write out my thoughts and arrange them before I begin typing but she is an old hand at this with six books and a Broadway play under her belt.  I admire her, it took over ten years to get her first book published and seven for her second, but then everything started to flow beautifully for her.  I liked that she was a Canadian transplant who's writing brought her to the Big Apple...it's relieving to know that it is always possible.

I moved from the couch to the floor just to feel the coolness of the hardwood on my skin, it's difficult to focus when the heat is slowly putting me to sleep.  I looked up and watched her staring at the ceiling and mumbling to herself...I grabbed my notes and pen...she's ready to start....