h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

This is turning into another month of hell. I want it to be over.

I had a week of peace between Xmas and New Years Day, spent much of that time catching up on lost sleep. They started the bang bang bang promptly at 8:30 on the 2nd. It has been going on every single day since. I had one day when I was able to stay home with only sporadic banging, had the relief of working in my garden a bit. Every other day this month I have been forced to leave home or go totally insane again. I've been hanging out at Starbucks, the library, local restaurants, went to Sarasota to see the Ringling Museum one day (that was lovely, though when I learned that they built that whole mansion in two years it really drove home how dreadfully mismanaged this fiasco here has been as I'm now into the seventh month of this demolition derby on a small property). I spent one day painting a teapot at a ceramic studio nearby, must pick it up but I think it's going to be gorgeous. I am really tired of never being able to have a relaxing morning, never being able to sleep in if I need to, never knowing what I'll come home to. I took off on Wed morning when the roofers finally arrived, knew there was no way I could deal with that starting at 8:00 every morning. There is no escaping it. I got back from Naples Friday night late, my place is a total mess again. Plywood chips and termite balls are covering everything on the patio again. So much for having people over for barbeque on Sunday. I haven't the energy to clean up after these barstids again and again and again.

This morning, Sunday, I'd hoped to sleep in. I'm fighting off a cold, can't risk getting sick right now as I've gotten a bunch of makeup bookings to keep me out of this place and not spending money and wasting time for the rest of the month. Guess what! My neighbor who sometimes does cleanup work for the owner decided 8am this fine Sunday morning was a brilliant time to start scraping and banging lumber around in the place adjoining mine. INSTANT wake-up-in-kill mode. O joy! I cannot even imagine what the idiot was thinking when he started that. He KNOWS how upset I've been about the noise, the fact that I cannot have a life or get on with the work I've been supposed to be doing here. Just more careless, inconsiderate stupidity.

So I stayed in bed reading, dozing off, waking to the louder noises and got up around noonish. Made coffee, went out to water my garden. Guess what! The roofers left roofing nails in the decorative gravel in my yard. I got bit (that's the technical roofing term for having a nail puncture your shoe and foot.) Um. BOY was I twisted. Yes, the neighbors all around are well aware of just how loudly furious I was. Anyway, at least it didn't go *through* my foot, I stepped up pretty quickly once I realized it wasn't merely a piece of gravel in my shoe. I let it bleed for a while to clean out and poured hydrogen peroxide into the wound. And now I get to spend my day off with elevated foot, hoping that it doesn't swell and cause problems that make work impossible.

I called the management, left a scorching message on their answering machine. The manager called back, referred me to the roofer. I called and left him a less *ahem* vivid message. The good thing is that he'll be here tomorrow morning to pick me up and take me to a clinic for a tetanus shot (which he will pay for, of course.) So I'm very happy not to have been given another run-around. I'm *not* happy that I'll be doing that instead of going to help set up our new SGI activity center before work, as I'd intended.

If the weather holds the roofing will be completed this week. The drywalling next door has been installed, plastering shouldn't be noisy for me. They're planning to install hardwood floors. bang bang bang. If they get all that stuff finished this month then just *maybe* I can finally start February with a sustained focus on getting my photos ready for end-of-season selling. There's not likely to be enough time to have a proper portfolio of the individualized kid's fables I was going to market, but at least I should be able to get some work done so I'll have myself where I'd hoped to be by last October. I am sooooooo disheartened that the demolition derby has cost me a year of getting this part of my career functioning, but it is what it is. If I can just have a sustained year of peace to work here I'll be able to get back on track with my plans and should be able to have plenty ready for snowbird season 2007.

Today, having awakened with such disproportional rage, I'm worried that the PMS hormones are kicked in and I'll have to deal with that insanity for the next week and 1/2. I can't *do* that again, and I'm terrified that I'll be in the middle of it again while I'm booked solid with makeup work. Last month's overflow of venom did not ruin my relationship with the people who hire me, they were understanding about the circumstances I was in and the shortness of my temper. Another period of that.... well, they hire me because I'm good at what I do and because I make people feel good when I'm there. That's not how it goes when I look and feel like something the cat dragged in, and when I'm putting all my energy into not being nasty and vicious to the poeple I'm supposed to be helping. *sigh*

I've been taking the SAM-e for three weeks now, until today I felt *good* and positive and able to cope with this ongoing stress, even though this is nothing like the way I had planned to spend my January. I hope this anger is a temporary fizzle. I cannot have another period of self destructive behavior.

I have got to figure out a way to prevent myself going insane again.

This being insane thing is really bizarre. There's almost always an objective piece of my mind that sits 'outside' the turmoil. It can watch and comment but not become embroiled in the chaos and it recognizes, with great disgust, that this thing which is *me* is nothing like who I've always been. It's horrified, because there are times when the destructive part is everything, nothing else left.

Those times are mostly brief, so far they've happened when nobody is near me. But ... I don't know. I DO NOT KNOW what would happen if somebody who has been doing Stupid Things that wreck my 'safe spot' (home) were in front of me when I'm like that.

I've been through severe depression in the past. I know what that's like. It's only self destructive. I have never felt this crazy desire to make someone else hurt. Not when I was a kid and pulling the wings off flys is 'normal' for other kids. I've never been drawn towards random vandalism just to see what happens, like many teens do. It's *always* been pointless to me. I don't need other people to lose so I can feel like I'm winning. That's ...half-assed inneficient, and you're only a winner until you run across someone stronger who can beat you, anyway. That has no real value.

And now I have this throbbing, wake-me-up-from-a-sound-sleep thing in my mind that wants nothing but annihilation, and to take everything else along with it. I don't know how to manage that. Maybe most people do, because they get a taste of it when they're younger. I dunno. That's the scariest part.

I imagine that maybe this is how people feel who believe they're posessed by demons. I don't believe in demons, not as external forces, anyway. I can rationalize that this is just a symptom of chemical imbalance, but WHERE THE HELL DID THE VIOLENCE COME FROM? That's an alien invasion, of sorts.

I hope the Prozac kicks in quickly.

Thinking of you MoG.
And counting my blessings.

XXXX

I am feeling better today. I think the prozac has kicked in, but I also had some real good fortune last night.

I was trying to listen to political commentary on the internet, instead hooked into an hour-long radio show about stress that explained a LOT. What a relief! I am not actually going insane, which was a deep concern. I'm just having a standard mamal reaction to prolonged torture. It's called toxic hostility.

The program was broken into different segments that described the physical and behavioral reactions to different kinds of stress. Apparently our bodies have not learned to distinguish between life-threatening stimuli and daily frustrations in some people. So, longterm exposure to the adrenaline rush and chemicals we put out cause some neat physical manifestations, notably hypertension and adult onset diabetes. That's good to know! And yesterday, when I told mom of the weight gain and high blood pressure and described some of the other symptoms (needing a couple hours more sleep than usual in particular) she told me I must get my blood sugar checked as those are symptoms of diabetes and it runs in our family. hi ho! That's cheering, isn't it?

Anyway, when they tortured rats and allowed them no outlet, the rats got sick. When they tortured them (teasing them by setting out food and withdrawing it constantly to provoke stress hormones) the rats had four adrenaline-diminishing responses.
1) They'd go bite another rat. I guess spreading the pain is a 'healthy' response.
2) They'd go gnaw on wood. Distraction?
3) I think the third one was that they'd run around.
4) Sense of control: When they'd give the rat a lever to push that would sometimes stop the torment, pushing it relieved the stress even when it did no good. Also, telling humans when an electric shock was going to occur allowed them to prepare for it, so their bodies didn't spew chemicals in the same way.
I guess that explains the horrible, destructive thoughts that have been in my mind, why writing or painting seems to alleviate some of my distress, and why it's so important to me that the owner keep me informed of progress and projections (seems they change daily) rather than just come home to find another SURPRISE! wreckage.

It does help to know that I'm just experiencing a 'normal' reaction to torture, believe it or not. I guess being in the seventh month of this qualifies, I can sympathize with the rats who were teased with hope of food and occasional eating, for me it's peace of mind and stable environment to work and live in that's being dangled and withdrawn, is all. And even the Geneva Conventions consider sleep deprivation and exposure to loud noise to be official torture methods (unless Bush and his minions have approved it under the We Do Not Torture redefinition. <spit&gt

It's bad tonight. Just more reaction to stupidity, I don't think I can take it much longer.

So dumb. My privacy fence was taken down and replaceed, finally a response to the months of emails and bitching about the way the broke the fence during the plumbing fiasco. I just asked for it to be reinforced so it couldn't be pushed in, is all. And instead they put in a new one. Started the demolition at 7am today. hi ho. I asked the guy if the new one would be tall enough to prevent people being able to hop on a milk crate and peek over--we've had prowler problems in the neighborhood, I've called the police and even snuck up on someone messing around back there. I've been bitching about this to the owner for months now. So, the guy flat out lied to me, told me it was a couple inches shorter, but would be elevated from the ground so it wouldn't make a difference. And the old fence was tall, so a COUPLE inches wouldn't make a difference. Well, the shiny new fence is less than 6 feet tall. When I go on tippy toes on the alley behind my place I can look into all of my home, my bedroom, everything I own is exposed. Given the 16 feet of sliding glass doors on the 'solid' part of my home, the only actual privacy I have left to me is to go into the bathroom and close the door. Everything else I own is a free-for-all to whatever normal-height person decides they want to see what's in there. Isn't that just AWESOME!

So, after a long and late day of work, that's what I came home to tonight. Hi ho. I lost it. Totally. Screaming, howling, banging things. I AM SO OUTRAGED AT THE STUPIDITY!!!!!! And I can't seem to control myself, my head wants to explode, my body gets this sick-ochre hum all through that feels like just before lightning hits really close, when the sky is green and alien. And I lose it. And I still have that tiny, dismayed piece, helpless in the froth of the whirlppool, that *knows* how awful, how destructive, how not who I am used to being, NOT WHO I WANT TO BE this raving creature I've become is. My poor neighbors. The guy who tears shit apart is one of my neighbors. And I spoke horribly to him, because he flat-out lied to me. No mind, no brain, nothing but howling anguish left.

He didn't like it. I don't blame him. He doesn't understand why I react towards him, but he hasn't been living with the pounding, the thumping, the total lack of privacy, the not-being-allowed-to-work-like I GODDAMNCAMEHEREANDSETUPMYHOMETODO! incessant torment of it, in Britta's World. But he's in here, in my place, all the time. He's the one who decides 8am on a Sunday is a good time to start banging around and wake me up. Yes. I hate being nasty-mouthed and abusive to the workers who are only doing a job. But when they're DESTRUCTIVE, THOUGHTLESS, STUPID %$@#!, I don't seem able to prevent myself going loud and ugly and frightening.

I hate this monster I've become.

I don't seem to be able to find a way out.

Tonight I called the suicide hotline because I want to find a way throuhg this thing. I don't know if I will. The external stuff is temporary, surely. It's gotta be. I've been saying that since July. But the internal stuff, this writing mass of venomous-fanged worms that my mind has degenerated into, that is unsustainable. I'm creating horrible things, a vile environment for people around me. No matter how I try to keep my head in a civil place I can't. I fear for what I might do to someone else.

rats

That was supposed to say...........

Hi MOG I hope thngs have improved for you.

We talked some years ago about meditation, and I have followed your journal since as I enjoyed your tales of Buddhism and its effect in your life.

This is no good though, I cannot believe what you are going through here.

I won't stay as I have had less than one hours sleep and am having real problems seeing the keybord. Just wanted you to know that I am wishing you well. Don't let the bustards grind you down.

Once upon a Time there was a girl who knew that there was Light, and there was Darkness, and that Everything was made of both. For a while she forgot to look into the light, the darkness seemed more compelling. She forgot that she had a hand to flip the switch, and for a while she was lost in the darkness, though she could hear the voices of her friends calling to her, trying to lead her back out to a place where she'd be able to see again, clearly.

One of her friends shared The Secret with the girl. She'd had it for a while, but hadn't recognized it for what it was, so it sat in a pile of stuff and gathered dust.

Things went from bad to worse, to very worst indeed and the darkness permeated Everything, and the girl almost put the light out, permanently. But her friend reminded her that she already had The Secret, that it was time to open it and put it to use. So, feeling that there was nothing to lose, the girl looked at The Secret. And she remembered some things that she already knew, but hadn't been applying.

So the next day she decided to use The Secret. It worked, that day she came home to proof. And things began to feel safe again, and peaceful, and there was kindness and warmth all around, because she held the feeling of security and quiet and love in her mind, and made them extra strong when the dark things that had set up housekeeping in her head tried to reassert their power over her.

A couple days after that she was looking for her keys, she'd misplaced them months before and needed them again. They were nowhere to be found, so she decided she'd just have to go have more keys made. And that afternoon she came home and her keys had appeared, in a way that doesn't make any kind of logical sense.

The girl is mystified by the manifestation of The Key, she has no explanation for it. She has decided to just be happy that The Key came back at just such a time when rational skepticism was beginning to tarnish her freshfound joy. She has decided that, no matter what happened, the Key is not only a key, but is also a Sign.

It is a Sign that Everything is ok, and that the mind truly does create the environment in which we function, and that, while it's interesting to know *how* things work, it's more important to know that things *do* work, if you remember how to work them.

Thanks to all of you for your support through the past several months. I am ok now.

There really is a film called The Secret. It's like a documentary. Watch it, it makes sense.

It is about the power of attraction, and framing your thoughts so you attract the things you want. In a nutshell, it's about keeping your mind very focused on the things you *do* want, as opposed to devoting your energy to the things you don't want. So, instead of being anti-war, be pro-peace. Stop feeding the undesirable things around you and they'll wither away to be replaced with the things you're mind is creating.

I have not quite done this before, the deliberate, consistent framing of my reality. When I watched The Secret it was not the first time I'd heard of the idea, however it was the first time the concept went KERCHUNK into my brain, like a peg just made for exactly that hole. That feeling has been rare, it has always been life-altering right when I've gotten it.

So, the day I kept my mind on this stream of thoughts between customers (and I had a lot of time on my hands that day) I kept on thinking this:

My home will be secure and safe and peaceful.
I will still have my garden and my garage and all the storage space for my stuff.
I will have a lovely patio, and space for my studio, and space to entertain. I will have my privacy again.
I will find all this at my current rent, so I can finally work on my career as an artist and put myself in the place to afford to live anywhere I feel like.

I kept thinking that all through the day. I'd given up on the idea that I'd be able to stay here, the fence thing was the final straw and I felt like I'd been made a total target with everything I owned visible to everyone my height and above who passed through the alley. It freaked me out that the only non-visible place in my home was inside the bathroom, I don't even normally close the door to the toilet when I'm using it. And the owner had told me that he would not change it, because building code didn't allow for a new fence to be as tall as the original ones were. So I was pretty much just putting my mind in a place where the next place I lived would have everything I had fallen in love with here, back when I first moved in and got things set up.

I came home from work that night and the fence was down completely, from the front door I looked straight through to the alley behind my place. They were raising the fence on the fenceposts, are planning to kinda fill in underneath with dirt so the fence is high enough for privacy, but is still touching the ground at the bottom. Now, that was clever! Once they have the dirt in there I'll put some plants in to keep the dirt from washing away, the red ones will be gorgeous against the white fence.

That is the very first time since I've been here that I've come home to an unexpected change that made my living conditions better rather than drastically worse. That is an AWESOME change in the dynamics here.

The owner told me that they should be finished with the other side soon. They are working on the floors now, I can hear the saws and thumping, but it's nothing like the shuddering assault from the roofing project. They'll be doing electrical work still, and installing a new kitchen over there. He said that would be noisy. I'll sort that out when it happens. They still are going to stucco the outside of the place, that's more drilling and mess to walk through to get to my door, but hopefully it'll be a quick project.

Anyway, this month I am going to generate income-producing artwork, no matter what is happening here. I can take the camera and go on photo expeditions if I'm not comfortable here in the days, I can do the editing at night. A couple more friends are planning to visit this month, we'll go on Adventures and I shall be able to keep focused and productive and happy.

This month is a new beginning for me. The thing with the keys really did happen yesterday. I don't know how. I'm just using it as an affirmation that I've found myself a way that works, and things are going to be easier than I'd thought they'd be. That's pretty cool.

I'll keep y'all updated as I explore this method of using my mind.

I'm so pleased to hear you sounding more positive. I didn't know how to get you out of that dark hole you were in - but you've found the way out.
And think how strong you really are, having got through this

More power to your paintbrush, cherie.

Very glad to hear that things are so much better.

Bon jour!
I *am* doing better mentally, have been very mindful about keeping my mind-frame positive. I have had another challenge this morning, am very proud of myself that I didn't just lose it but stayed calm, though dismayed.

It seems the roofing is not over for me yet. I woke around 5am in the middle of a hum-dinger of a thunderstorm because I heard water splashing *inside* my place. This was not good. So, there are several leaks. By the front door. All along the seam where the two levels meet. My lamp and tv were full of water. They removed all the gutters and a protective roof extension over the northwest corner, that whole area is now flooded, cat litter is everywhere. And water has splashed in all along the screens because there is no gutter to manage the flow.

So, I am *not* losing it. Yay! However, I am righteously pissed off and concerned, in a once-removed kinda way. I'm expecting a special guest today around 2. He has been driving for two solid days to get here. We were very much looking forward to having some peace and privacy to get to know one another in person after all these months of long distance communication. It's forecast to rain for the next several days. I expect my home to stay dry and clean and cozy. I expect to come home to things as I left them. I expect that I shall be able to grill, and picnic in the garden, and introduce him to mojitos on the patio, and play quiet games of cribbage and lure him into a game of Scrabble. I expect to be able to stay at home as much as we like, and go out when we feel like--not to escape noise and workers and filth.

So, universe, I'm putting it out there that the next five days shall be absolutely fabulous, that the leakage is only a temporary speedbump and opportunity for me to keep my cool (and I did! ) and that All Is Well.

I've gotta say, at least these people are consistent. I called at 5:30am to let them know the roof had leaked and my place was a mess. I told them I was expecting a guest from out of town at 2pm. So, the roofer showed up around 9ish, he told me he knew what the problem was and that it would be taken care of. Cool! So I waited around for them to do something. It was still raining off and on, I wasn't going to start the cleanup just to have it all soaked again.

11:00, no word, no sign of anything happening. I called to ask if they had a game plan. Jessica was quite sweet, she said she'd be right over. I *explained* to her how important it was to me that I be able to have non-chaos and privacy when my friend arrived, a repetition of the email I'd sent that morning. She said she'd help with the cleanup and went to buy me a new lamp.

She got back around 12:30, started cleaning up the mess. I had my shower, started the jambalaya. At 1:50 Jake showed up with ceiling tiles so the sodden ones could be replaced. O joy! What a mess that made as the water dribbled all over everything and the tiles crumbled. I called my friend and told him to check into the hotel before coming here.

Now, Jake and Jessica were out of here by 2:30, the place looked ok. BUT at 2, when I *told* them I needed to have things back together and be left alone there were holes in the ceiling, a big stack of soggy tiles in front of the door, my furniture in disarray, a chaotic mess going on. *sigh*

So, they passed my friend as he arrived. And he is a total sweetheart. And we were sitting on the patio, beginning our getting-to-know-oneanother in person, when a ladder came down from the roof to the corner of the garden a few feet from us. My friend suggested it might be an alien invasion. So, we had the grand privelege of conducting our first hour together under the surveilance of the maintenance man. Privacy is a lovely thing, isn't it? And the next couple of hours were joyously punctuated by the sensual beat of walking on the roof above us and hammering. *sigh*

I tried to follow my friend's lead and just ignore the invasion, I recognize that things won't be fixed without someone fixing them. But I can't help feeling bitter because, once again, MY life, MY plans were disrupted because these people would not get it together and respect the fact that I AM TRYING TO CONDUCT A LIFE HERE! There is no reason they couldn't have been here at 8:30 to look ionto the problem and get started on a solution. Frankly, I have the impression that they had no intention of doing anything at all except wait for the roofer to take care of things, had I not called at 11.

It could be worse, but it could also have been handled much better. Even though I didn't lose my temper, and I didn't descend into a howling mass of victimization, and I'm ok, this continued mismanagement that I'm being subjected to is not ok. It seems there *should* be a week, just once in a while, when I'm not dealing with a 'home improvement' related mess. I am TIRED of wasting hours of my life every week dealing with the repercussions of their projects.

Anyway, universe, it would be *really* nice to make it through the rest of the month in a safe, secure, private,quiet, clean home and be able to spend my time on the things *I* plan to spend it on.

Thank you.

Hey you - yes you, Universe.
Enough already. Give the poor girl a break and get this cr*p sorted PDQ.

There - that told 'em.

Was thinking of you at the w/e when we heard there'd been some very bad weather in your state.

Gmail, oh beautious one.