30 TRUTHS IN 30 DAYS - DAY FOURTEEN

Truth #14: We tend to cram people especially those closest to us in the box labeled PERFECT and then when those people disappoint us by being less than perfect, it hurts us deeply. We tend to forget that nobody is perfect. We all make mistakes. And unfortunately those closest to us are the people who will hurt us the most in life. But it's entirely up to us how we handle that hurt and disappointment. We have a few options: We can isolate ourselves so we are insulated from hurt and disappointment. Good luck on that one because it's a lonely existence being a hermit! We can forgive and go about our business knowing that to err is human and to forgive is divine or we can fall into the trap of the endless tit for tat game of I'll show you how it feels to be hurt and disappointed. All that does is breed hate and discontent. Revenge is a horrible game to play! The truth is people will hurt and disappoint you sometimes, but if it's a continual pattern and you feel used or cast aside like day old trash until you're needed again then you might want to reevaluate your own self-worth and move yourself into a different box. Face it, if someone continually hurts you and disappoints you, they aren't as perfect as you thought they were and they might be more comfortable residing in the ASSHOLE or BITCH box.  

Is There A Contractor In The House?

I was just sitting here scanning over my adult life in respect to the serious relationships I've had and well...it didn't paint a very pretty picture. It probably most resembled a Jackson Pollack masterpiece "Male and Female."  Understand that and you might understand the jumbled mess inside my head. I can't say I've ever had a healthy, intimate relationship with the opposite sex.  Once sex got thrown into the picture all bets came off the table.  Why that is I most likely can come up with a fairly accurate answer, but at this stage in my life I'm wondering how much does it really matter. Don't we all have baggage? Some suitcases just weigh more than others.

When my last relationship ended, I put myself in what I called "time out."   I guess for most people after a break up, they need time to adjust before they get back out there and throw their line back in the water to do some fishing again, but my time out has lasted 15+ years. Oh yes, you read that right. I have been celibate for 15+ years and I'll go a step further...I haven't even been on a date in that time period. Before all of you scream "WHY?" in unison, I'll give you my five cent explanation. It's rather hard to go on a date or to meet anyone if you've become a hermit. I had a rather cozy cave.

I jokingly referred to myself as a hermit on my blog over the years, but I don't know how many people actually took me seriously or knew to what extent my being an actual hermit had become a reality.  I think I was really on the verge of developing agoraphobia. When someone once called me a troglodyte as an insult, I adopted the word because I liked it better than the word 'hermit". Hermit sounded too common and who likes being thought of as being common or ordinary...or normal? Certainly, not me!

Anyway, in January of 2019 my hermit days abruptly came to an end. A childhood friend, came for a visit and ended up moving in right next door to me. Martha (Linda) was the little red-headed girl who lived next door to me in Maine and we grew up together. We've known each other since we were 4 years old and did typical Mildred and Martha secret, naughty things growing up.  Having Martha back in my life was a much needed wake up call. It was one that I hadn't fully realized I needed until now.

Physically, I was barely living when she arrived. I couldn't stand up for more than a few minutes without the pain being too intense for me to bear.  In fact, I struggled to stand up from a sitting position and sitting was uncomfortable. Doing anything seemed like a struggle.  I had fallen down the stairs and fractured my vertebrae and the recovery was very slow.  Sometimes I wondered if I was ever going to recover. My legs and feet were swollen to the size of tree trunks, but not from the fall. I didn't find out until later that I had fluid around my heart. Before Martha moved here I went days without getting out of bed and I just didn't care about myself anymore. I had given up and no one was getting on my ass about it.  Nobody wanted to deal with the wrath of Mildred so my family just left me alone unless it dealt with my safety like when my adult children banded together and moved my bedroom downstairs after I fell. They banded together because they expected me to give them a real hard time about it, but I fooled them when I never said a word.  I knew I couldn't walk up and down the stairs and they were doing the right thing. I would have been a real bitch if I had given them a hard time about being concerned about my well-being. I'm a lot of things, but being a real bitch isn't one of them. All you assholes out there who think I'm a real bitch better keep your opinions to yourself or else Mildred will have her way with you! lol 

After Martha got here, I started doing more physical things and now I can work outside all day long in the heat and humidity of Florida like I did when I was younger. In fact, I'm in better shape now than I have been in 20 or 25 years. I've lost a ton of weight and I feel good physically and mentally most of the time.  And when I don't, I smoke some weed and then I feel better. When my back hurts, the weed comes out.  When I have trouble sleeping, you know the drill. And when I just feel like kicking back and getting stoned, well I kick back and get stoned. What can I say? I'm a hedonist!

When a person becomes a hermit they forsake their need for other people.  When I went into "time out" I went into time out all the way. I wanted to cushion myself from the world and I did a great job of it for 15+ years. Nobody came knocking until Martha rapped on my door. You see, I thought it was just going to be a visit and then she left to move to South Florida. but when she left I knew she was going to move back here even though she didn't know it at the time. It was just a feeling I had and I was okay with that feeling. It didn't put me in a panic to think about not being a hermit anymore. 

And I was right! She moved here shortly after she left for South Florida. Who wants to live in South Florida with all those people anyway? (There goes that hermit in me talking!) When the house next door to me came up for rent, Martha jumped on it and moved in. What I discovered is that I'm not a hermit after all. I enjoyed having a friend to do stuff with and even when we weren't doing anything, but goofing off doing nothing we still had a good time doing it. You know why? Because we're Mildred and Martha and Martha and Mildred, that's why! We're one hell of a team!

Unfortunately, Martha moved back to Maine about a week ago.  Sometimes things happen and make it so we have to make difficult decisions.  Doing the right thing is rarely easy.  Right now, we all live in difficult times.

I'm empty now and I'm scared. I definitely know how to be a hermit, but I don't want to be a hermit again.  Is it wrong that I want someone? That I need someone?  Oh, I know we're in a pandemic...blah, blah...BLAH and social distancing and all that hoopla and I have to be a hermit to some extent and yeah, I can do that. I'm good excellent at it, remember? I did it for a very long time! Geez! I thought something was wrong with me when I kept reading on other people's blogs about how blue they were about being locked down during the coronavirus. I was afraid to tell anyone that I was okay with it because I had been doing it for so long that it was just second nature to me. It was no big deal. But now, what?

My grand plan that Martha and I used laugh about was that when the pandemic was over and I felt I was back to my old running shape I was going to start hanging out....not in bars...fuck that! but I'd go to Lowe's or Home Depot in the Contractor's section and pick-up a contractor so I could get someone to help me to fix my house (you know we could work something out in trade...). I'd say, "Baby, show me your tool belt, your tools and your truck...and definitely your financial statement!"  He'd probably call security on me and have me kicked out of the store.  Hey, it's been awhile since I've picked someone up, but I bet I can still do it.  My daughter gets aggravated whenever we go anywhere together and men flirt with me and not with her. ha! I think it's hysterical.  My pheromones must be stronger than hers.

Anyway, I miss my Martha. I talk to my dogs. I talk to the birds and of course, Cecil. I talk to all the plants I planted in my backyard. I talk to myself. That's a trip. Damn it! I need a person. Maybe I should buy a mannequin or a blow-up doll. What do you think?  Does anyone want to volunteer to be my person?  Mildred does not bite! Much :)

QUARANTINED AND BEYOND

No, I'm not stranded on some tropical island! That would be nice, but I'm still here in good old Pensacola, Florida. Well, I never got my test results and I don't know who to contact to get them so I just said fuck it. Lately. I've said fuck it to lots of things. I feel fine and just chalked it up to another amazing clusterfuck. Go figure! I've just been hanging out in my backyard and doing lots of hard physical work weather permitting and when Mother Nature drives me inside I have lots of inside projects. 

I'm slowly redoing my upstairs cave, but I promise this time I won't fall downstairs and fracture a vertebrae.  Another change to my cave is that it's in a different room and it has 8 windows in it so it has plenty of wonderful natural light. I guess it really isn't much of a cave compared to my last cave that was painted a deep Bohemian red and rarely saw the light of day blinds closed and heavy drapes drawn. I look back on that rather long period of my life and I really was a hermit or a "troglodyte" as the dreaded Psychedelic Pariah used to call me. I guess none of you remember him and that's a good thing! 

Another change to my cave is that my cave now is strictly for creative use and I won't be sleeping there. Now my bedroom is downstairs. So, in my cave I'll be able to paint, write, sew, do crafts, wood burn when the kit arrives in the mail (if it ever does) and probably talk to myself and my dogs and cat, listen to music and wish the world was a better place to live and so forth and so on...

Several weeks ago I witnessed a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. I held the new butterfly in my hand before it flew away. My fence and area around it was covered with chrysalis waiting to emerge with beautiful butterflies. Other than hating fire ants, I feel like a real nature's child.  I feed the birds. I talk to the birds. I swear at the squirrels and the various insects. I talk to my flowers. My dogs started to eat the suet that I give to the birds. I swear they'll eat just about anything. I better watch out they might start flying around with the birds. I think I'd like to see that just as long as they didn't poop on me when they fly around. Martha talked about cutting down trees and the next thing she knew she had birds pooping on her. I'm thinking that they knew what she was talking about and was just giving her their opinion on the matter. 

Also on the whole bird situation...I have a ton on baby cardinals that are ravenous. I swear they can empty a birdfeeder before I walk back to my chair. I keep telling them to go get a job to pay for the bird seed! Or better yet I think mom and dad need to get a second or third job to pay for the dozens of babies I'm feeding. Does anyone know how many babies a cardinal has?

So that's about it. I have good days and bad days like everyone else.  I hope all of you are safe and well and staying sane throughout all this madness.

A Bohemian Style Revival

What comes to your mind when someone brings up Freddie Mercury? The first thing that comes to my mind is that I share a birthday with Freddie and since the mid 1970's, I always eat one piece of birthday cake for me and one piece for him. When I think of Freddie, a quote from The Who's lead singer says it best. Roger Daltrey called Mercury "the best virtuoso rock 'n' roll singer of all time. He could sing anything in any style. He could change his style from line to line and God, that's an art. And he was brilliant at it."

When I first discovered that a movie about Mercury's life was made and being released this fall, I immediately wondered who would play the part of Freddie. Who could play the part? When faced with portraying a legend, any legend how does a person prepare to undertake such an enormous endeavor?
My original thought was that Adam Lambert would have been a logical choice for the Freddie Mercury role, but apparently I wasn't consulted before the auditions began. I'm sorry, Adam! No one ever listens to me.

Although Rami Malek has been working as an actor since 2004, I never actually "noticed" him until he played the lead role in the television series, Mr. Robot. Now, portraying the legendary Freddie Mercury (Farrokh Bulsara) in the film, Bohemian Rhapsody, Malek is challenged to resurrect Mercury on the big screen. I hope the spirit of Freddie fills every pore in Malek's body and what we witness is not a mere portrayal of a dead superstar, but a true rebirth of someone who may be gone but was never forgotten.

One source claims, "Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury is the gift that Queen fans deserve." Being a true hermit limits my social outings, but I think Miss Troglodyte USA, will put on her glad pants and venture out to see this movie instead of waiting for it to hit Netflix, Hulu or Amazon Prime.


Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me...

LET GO AND LET IT HAPPEN

Sometimes we have to let go and just let it happen in order to get past the difficult times and ultimately move to the other side where inner peace can be reached.  I know letting go is a frightening thing.  I also know how putting your life in other people's hands or trusting someone else's judgment is equally frightening.  I just spent a few days at a psychiatric facility.  I want to write about that experience and will do so as the words come to me.  I also want to write about the people who were instrumental in helping me through my crisis. 

I'd like to start with thanking an old boyfriend for reaching out to me shortly before I was admitted to Baptist Hospital's Behavioral Medicine Center.  I think it was his words that initially let me know that letting go was the right thing to do.  I had done it many years before at a time when I had retreated into a very dark place.  It was a time he had viewed firsthand. Due to the pain I had suppressed for many years as a child I finally lost my ability to function normally as a teenager.  I eventually found drugs numbed my pain and allowed me to live in a void absent of all feeling-both good and bad. Outwardly, it was a "safe" place to reside, but inwardly I was slowly headed towards total annihilation.  When I finally let go, I came close to dying, but I can honestly say that without letting go back then I would have definitely died at a very young age.  As defiant and hardheaded as I was way back then, on some level I allowed myself to trust people enough to pull me through so I could go on living and eventually learn to thrive.

Most people know my life is pretty much an open book no matter where I am.  I share things that most people try to keep tucked safely away in some dark, cozy closet.  I share things that cause others much angst and shame.  I use Facebook in much the same way as I use my blog only to a lesser degree because most people there don't like to read lengthy updates from people.  Somehow social media seems to have created a population of ADHD-minded people who like to "skim" through their friend's and their family's lives.  They get all the highlights without any real substance most of the time.

Sometimes I post links from my blog on Facebook so that my friends and family (those people who aren't in my everyday life) can remain "with" me.  I learned long ago that shutting people out is a very damaging thing to do and that relationships don't thrive on neglect.  Yes, I have slipped into becoming a hermit in the last 10 years or so, but my hermitude isn't completely void of people.  My problem seems to be that the people I'm closest to live the farthest from me with the exception of my children who live close by.  Through my written words I manage to stay connected to the people in my life who are most important to me and they never lack knowing what's up in Mildred's life.  

About two weeks ago I posted a very lengthy update on Facebook (or at least lengthy for Facebook standards) that clearly let people know I was in emotional crisis and headed towards a place I should avoid.  I ended that Facebook update with what I thought was a little humor, a very "Mildred" thing to do... 

"One last thing...do I get a gold star for the longest Facebook status update?" 

 

I didn't expect anyone to address my question due to the nature of the rest of my update, but I received confirmation from a blast from my past that indeed the update was a little on the lengthy side.  That confirmation also came with many thought-provoking items.  Although relationships can change and people come and go from our lives, some bonds/connections/friendships are meant to last in strange, unexplainable ways. The private messages Wayne sent me brought me to tears for several reasons.  The most important one was that he cared enough about me to reach out to me in my time of need.  For that, I am truly thankful.  Without knowing it his words were the catalyst that opened the floodgates that needed to be opened so I could finally let go and just let it happen in order to get past this difficult time and ultimately move to the other side where inner peace could be reached once again.

EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT HERMITS BUT NEVER ASKED

As defined in the dictionary, a hermit is a person who has withdrawn from society and lives a solitary existence often times for religious reasons (Mildredism).  The primary residence of a hermit is called a 'hermitage'.  I lovingly call my hermitage "the cave".  Several 'hermitages' in close proximity make up what I call a 'hermitdome' which most people might consider to be an enigma or a paradox since hermits like solitude above all else. Urban and suburban hermits may live in solitude together, but the rare rural hermit is revered by all hermits for he/she lives in true solitude! Regardless of where a hermit dwells, clustering too closely together is clearly avoided...or at least hermits claim they don't cluster unless it's mating season.  Then you need to batten down your hatches and put up the NO VACANCY sign. Trust me, there's nothing more menacing than a hungry hoard of horny hermits (now that's a tongue twister in more ways than one.) Say it 5 times quickly without smiling and you get a prize! 

A collection of 'hermitdomes' comprise the 'hermitsphere' or better described as the solitary cosmic universe in which a hermit spiritually resides.  The atmosphere inside an individual 'hermitage' is called the 'hermitude'.  A 'hermitude' is a true depiction of who the hermit is and reflects the hermit's general attitude...and altitude at all times.  It can be dark, and dank inside and or it can be sunny and inviting or it can fluctuate between the two depending upon the ever-changing mood of the hermit. A 'hermitage' can be as simple or complex as a hermit wants it to be.  Usually it's structured to fit the specific needs of the hermit that dwells inside so that outside contact can be kept as minimal as possible...except during mating season and then anything goes!  

Does anyone care to interpret the dream I had last night? I spent last night dreaming about a rather large crack I have in my hermitage that was letting the sunshine inside.  What a revolting development that was! I sat in my cave pondering the best way to repair the crack and then I noticed it!  A huge FOR SALE sign was hanging by my front door.  I sprung to my feet and quickly started trying to remove the sign, but the harder I pulled the more securely it stayed hung.  I looked around and thought, "These deep red bedroom walls have to go!  It's time for a change!"  Yes, indeed it's time for a change!  Any suggestions?  Maybe purple instead? Perhaps I should wait for mating season and get a big, burly hermit to fix my crack. Oh no!  I didn't just write that.  What's wrong with me? Could it be that I'm one of those hungry, horny hermits, too?  Okay folks, it's time to batten down your hatches and stay away from Mildred until she stops drooling.  I'll wave a white flag when it's safe to come out of hiding...

To all my fellow hermits and kindred spirits alike, in the words of Robert Frost:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep...

MEDICATION TIME

If giving is more important than receiving, when is the right time to stop thinking about ourselves and our own needs? I'm one of those people who give my 150% in anything I do, but have felt at times my giving nature has set me up to be used. Since I don't know how to be any other way and have no real desire to alter who I am, I'm left with the question of when is enough really enough?

If the strong really will inherit the earth, is it the emotional vampires (people who drain us completely dry) who will reign supreme eventually or will it be the do-gooders and hermits of the world?

I'm tired of my cave, but afraid to meander out amongst the masses for fear of the unknown. The unknown has screwed me over too many times. I feel weak and fragile right now. Sleepy? Yep! You betcha! I had a horrible day yesterday and couldn't unwind enough to close my eyes.

One friend was talking about suicide and another one was ranting and spewing venomous hate and discontent my way. I actually got accused of not knowing what real pain feels like. I was told I didn't know how it feels to lose a parent who was more than just a parent, but also a friend. I was told I didn't know how it feels to lose everything and to have nothing. I was told I don't know what it feels like to love so intensely that mere words cannot come close to describing the feeling. Yes, it was another exhausting session with Buddy!

[Karen, you stupid bitch, pay attention when you're in the presence of greatness, a legend in his own mind and learn to be humble! lol Like that's ever gonna happen in this lifetime!]

Gratitude statement: I'm extremely grateful that while not answering the phone may be morally or ethically wrong...it's not illegal! Self-preservation rules, baby! Thank God, yesterday is over!