Processing

This new person has come into my life like a whirlwind. It's insane to think that I met her less than two weeks ago. She is insanely creative and high-energy, and a risk-taker. She's incredibly fucking perceptive as well, or at the very least she's one of those rarities to let her perceptions be known (just one example of the risk-taking). Either way, she's got me thinking, processing, digging, introspecting if you'll allow me to verbatize some wordage.

She's dancing with me, and I get that. Voicing directly to me what she had to say was certainly crossing a boundary, a face-to-face conversation most likely awkward. Putting it down for me to read would be better. Good call. Cyber-distancing allows that chance to think before responding. My writing this post is engaging in the dance.

::tangent for forewarning::
Verbal diarrhea ahead. Please excuse more mixed metaphors that will appear.

p.s. And whining.

::tangent on postscript in forewarning::
I realize that this is definitively incorrect. I'm over it. Please join me.
::end tangent on postscript in forewarning::

::end tangent for forewarning::

My mind is flooded. I love it when someone makes me think, gives me that kick in the ass I need to engage my brain, but I feel overwhelmed and don't know where to start. The brain has done some atrophying over the last several months. Even blogging daily for some time didn't do it for me. Nor have other things, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Of the thoughts blogged by... I suck at third-person writing... What to call her?... More brain drain... Crafty Girl - CG... k, let's continue.

Of the thoughts blogged by CG, several warrant response. Primarily was the following:

there is a sadness I feel in them and it’s not really my business to ask yet

The quick and easy answer is that CG has a beautiful 6-week-old son, and the timing for being near that sweetness is a little too close.

The longer answer isn't one I have yet but am working on with help. I've started to write a post about it, and that's probably how I fell off the wagon in the first place. I didn't know how to address it, so I let it go. Let it all go. ::sigh::

What I do need to make clear is the answer is not God. I've already forwarded my Examination series to her. (Note: Part IV isn't linked to the rest.) It's depression, a funk that settled on me once we got here that hasn't quite lifted. I blame South Carolina and my sensitivity to outside influences. This place sucks and the adjustment has been very hard, especially after enjoying Alaska so much. I've been trying to get over it, focusing on meeting people through Rack of Moms and enjoying my family and what South Carolina has to offer (which mostly involves lengthy car rides - ugh). If anything, God is too prevalent and... segregating?... here. While I've finally gotten to a point where I can say without shame that I don't go to church (in response to that church home question), I feel very judged by it. Again with the organized religion preaching loving everyone, when really it only means if they believe in the same God you do. Jesus would totally not approve of that, so I'll just keep my Jesus to myself.

I also realize that this is our first move that wasn't followed by an immediate pregnancy. Nothing like hormones and house preparation to distract one from anxiety. Mister mrtl and I are pretty sure we don't want such a South Carolina souvenir, which is probably why I considered getting a cat.

There's more here, but it's lunchtime. Gotta feed the spawn, which should stop Jem from scratching up the coffee table with her Filipe Handy Manny screwdriver.

Comments

[William]

My curiousity is piqued

[Calamity Jen]

Two male kittens. That's what you need.

[Susie]

As is so often the case, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I do love to hear you talk. I'm inclined to say "be careful," with that new friend.
Your "keeping your Jesus to yourself" makes me think of the song, "Your Own Personal Jesus." IMO, one's own personal Jesus is the real deal Jesus. (I do realize you're not making a 'profession of faith' here.) On behalf of Christians and Southerners, I am sorry that their questions have felt judgmental or have served to exclude you or cause you discomfort. Most un-Christian, and un-Southern behavior, on their parts. Southerners (forgive the broad-brushing here) assume that "what church do you go to?" is as neutral an ice-breaker question as "what school do your kids go to?" or "where do you grocery-shop?" Some of them really are trying to be friendly. And others are not, sadly.
This Christian Southerner loves you very much. Even though you are church-homeless :P