Thursday, September 11, 2008

when you're in trouble, go into your dance

i've been horribly depressed....and stressed....and generally kinda flipped out.
it hasn't been pretty.

i'm feeling a bit better these last couple of days. scraping myself together.
managing to laugh at things. this is crucial.

its scary when i can't find the laughter.

ive managed to plaster over the chaos w/ a thin veneer of -its okay-. for now anyway.

i seriously can't take this isolation anymore. and while its not quite as extreme as it was in chacon,and at least i'm not hungry now and i have running water and plenty of electricity, i'm done with it.

at my wits end.

coping mechanisms are worn out and ragged.

like an old poem of mine, "...some old car with tics and dings and rusting parts beyond repair..."

i feel i should have made a bigger leap when i sold chacon. this here place is too similar. and w/ gas costs getting higher and higher its harder for me to go places and its just as hard for people to come here. and theres too many animals....blasphemous but true, and most of them aren't even mine. but at one point in the throws of my breakdown i was convinced i needed to not only get rid of the sheep and chickens but also the dogs and cats...all of them. no dependents...i suspect so that i could then truly spiral downward into certain disinegration or demise w/ out feeling like i'm abandoning anyone. but alas...a long as i'm still here there's still animals that need me...they aren't mine and its my job...dammit.

its easy to romanticize this life. the farmer, the shepherd, the spinster. i do it, when i can. altho i fear its now one of my newly defunct coping mechanisms. i'm going on 6 years of no tangible community. everyone i know is really really far away. no one stops by. ever. my last 4 birthdays have been just well as christmas, new years, all solstice and equinox get the idea.

this past week i've felt distinctly like i was slipping through the cracks.
you know...
if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it...does it make any sound?

so....if its now -operation end isolation-...what do i do? i look almost religiously for a place to buy w/ my ever dwindling nest egg from selling the chacon cabin. but w/out any mortgage capacity its slim pickins'.usually something that would be at all attainable is just another middle of nowhere situation...and on the verge of needing to be torn down not lived in.

and even though renting can be a mine field for e.i's, i look for rentals in town but everything would require my entire ssi check...and then some.

santa fe civic housing is flat out NOT accepting section 8 applications right now..."maybe starting next year". with the economy tanking and the housing scene so fucked up its no surprise everyone and their mother is after section 8.homeless shelters are seeing record numbers as well.

lingering in the air is still this idea of building in my friends backyard...but oy veh...we're a long way from reaching consensus on like i lingers...and i'll tell ya, i'm not too fond of havin' all my eggs in a lingerin' basket.

but like i said, for now i've managed to paste over the fear and futility with this eerie calm. a hard earned skill.
I weave,i chat with animals like doctor fucking doolittle, i watch movies, i dance and stretch, sometimes i pace and talk to myself or stare out the window.
sometimes i start to weep...just a little
and i sing while i do the farm chores...
"what if your hinges all are rusting
what if in fact you're just disgusting
razzle dazzle em' and they'll never catch on....."


Anonymous said...

Damn Erin, this sounds way tough. With your last poem I'd thought you had gone ahead and moved. I'm only a virtual visitor, but yours is the first website I go to every morning when I get to work. Just checking in to see how you are, what you have to share...I don't often comment, but often think of how you might be doing.

The great horned owl I wrote about early in the summer ended up hanging around all summer. When we bought our place we must have moved into his/her territory. It's favorite hang out is the bent over aspen on the edge of the pond. One time there were two of them there sleeping in the morning sun. This fall the ravens have spent several days picking on it. They circle around cawing, then take turns landing next to it and picking at it. We've actually thought about defending it. It never did take any more of our poultry, but a neighbor's two chocolate labs came in one day and killed all the ducks and geese. Well, actually mauled them and left them to die. We were able to salvage much of the meat, but that was little solace. They deserved better. Anyway, what I was saying was, through all that I thought about you and your owl experiences, and life in general.

Have you thought about relocating somewhere cold and dry for much of the year? Somewhere with lots of light in the summer? Somewhere in which snow is expected in the next week or two, but wouldn't be surprising right now?

Sending my positive thoughts your way, and a virtual hug, though I suspect you could use a really good massage even more.


Jbeeky said...

Hey Erin,
I am thinking of you and its true, I romantasize your situation. It is hard not to when you are this amazing poet and live on what seems like the cusp of the world. But I want you to feel community and touch and closeness, you deserve it. I am thinking of you, Erin.

erin ambrose said...

hey sweet people, thanks for the kind words.
and kalaska...could you be suggesting i move to the great white north? hmmmm....its food for thought eh?

where to live suggestions are always brain is in a rut.

you blog-folk are the best.


Anonymous said...

Well, I love Alaska, so it always seems like a good idea to me, but when I visit other parts of the US I can see that other places might be worth living in also. Perhaps you read Hobo Stripper? If so, that may give you a little idea of some people's mentality up here, some real rednecks, and some people doing the best they can to live in attunement with the natural world and find companionship with animals and fellow humans.

I was thinking that ei might be less of an issue here, depending on where you live, then I remembered that air quality can be really poor in some places during the winter. But you don't have to live in a big town (big being a relative term).

Like anyplace there are people and places to love here, and community to find. Fairbanks and Homer are pretty artsy towns you could check out.

I'm just blathering. I'm hoping that you are feeling a bit better, and thinking of ways to find community, in person. You are a warm, demanding, lovable person (duh), I can tell by your pictures and writing, and deserve to be loved and cherished. Wishing you all the best a bright fall day has to offer.