I miss you from across the southern ocean
These days I’m a little worse for wear
Thinking ’bout your care and your devotion
And too many times I was too rushed to hear
Never quick to anger, quick to harsh words
Yeah, I’m learning and unlearning all the parts
Got so used to reacting out of past hurts
That I forget how a conversation starts

So let’s talk about the way that your heart’s so worried
Let’s talk about the cancer in your father’s body
Tell me how she spun you out, let you down, never said sorry
Your pain is my pain with a different story
With a different story

I’ve been listening back to some of the songs I was listening to a lot when I wasn’t leaving the house, part of it is to see if it brings up anything I felt then, part of it is trying to find the right name for a new cocktail. I almost always lean on music for the names of cocktails, every cocktail has a story behind it, just like a song.

More often than not I use hard times in life to push my creativity and with that comes a new drink. Or a new blog. Or a wood working project. Something always comes from when I’m going through a hard time because my biggest coping skill, and fault, is I like to distract myself. I don’t like to sit with how I’m feeling because it’s a fast pass to feeling worse and worse.

Got so used to reacting out of past hurts
That I forget how a conversation starts

In a social setting, outside of work, I really don’t know how to just say hello how are you to someone, I don’t know if it’s the mundaneness of small talk, or something wrong with me. I make it a point to say hello to my staff as they trickle in at work each day, I believe a good leader takes the time to say hello how are you, even though it’s only a couple seconds, I could almost always be doing something else in that time. I do it so they don’t think I’m above them, because I don’t think I’m above them. Hell if you knew how I felt about me, it would probably make you uncomfortable, it’s not good things.

I think as time has gone on, I lose more and more social skills, and have the occasional(almost always) verbal diarrhea instead of saying what I want to say, I’ll hurl an insult at someone. That’s a defensive mechanism because I’m afraid if I’m kind to people they’ll think I’m weak, or lame or something. The truth is it’s kinda the opposite. Anyone can be an asshole in today’s world. It takes guts to be polite, to be kind, to say how you really feel.

So let’s talk about the way that your heart’s so worried

Some days my heart is so worried and overwhelmed it feels like it’s going to give out. I’ve always said my nerves will be the death of me. At this very moment I pretty much have two safe spaces, and no safe space in terms of the people around me. My safe spaces are work and home. Anything outside of that is questionable. As far as people who feel like a safe space, well that doesn’t fully exist for me these days. I think most of my hard times recently are self induced, because I don’t feel like I can just talk to anyone and express myself, so I’m holding it in and it’s only a matter of time before I explode. What that means I won’t know until it happens I guess.

Let’s talk about the cancer in your father’s body

I think my dad finding out he’s developing mesothelioma in some ways was a blessing. It’s made him a softer person, finally after 28 years he’s not always yelling at me about something. It’s too bad as time continues his time is finite, and only dwindling. I think about it often, mostly because he doesn’t like to face what the doctor has to say, and doesn’t like to share the whole truth which can be frustrating.

Tell me how she spun you out, let you down, never said sorry
Your pain is my pain with a different story

It doesn’t take much to spin me out these days, I think I’m still really working at mending my mental health from all that’s happened over the last couple of years. I’m currently spinning out, trying to figure out how to catch myself before it’s too late. I’m not sure I can catch myself from this one without drastic change, whether it be moving out of Boston, or moving on from beacon hill. Ultimately I enjoy my job but I have a hard time of letting go of mistakes I’ve made. I recently made one that’s sort of put me in a place where I no longer feel like I belong where I am.

If we all slowed down for a moment we’d quickly see we’re all sharing a similar pain, but maybe the story of how we got there is different.

Your pain is my pain with a different story

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.