Tag Archives: life

IT’S NOT ABOUT ME

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I have fallen behind in this Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m behind in my Daisy Yellow Index Card a Day Challenge. I have fallen behind in life. I feel as if I’m always playing catch up. I’m up burning the middle of the night oil. I’ve been up since 2 am and unable to get back to sleep. I awoke with all the anger and frustration that I took to bed with me. It’s a wonder that I got to sleep at all. I could feel the anger and frustration building across the tightness of my chest. I decided that it’s best to get out of bed. I feel just helpless in bed.

It’s amazingly cool for a July night. Life has certainly not been kind this year. First, Sheba’s ear hematoma in December. She had to have it drained 3 times. Poor baby! I won’t go into it again. There were sleepless nights like this, sitting up with her, taking her out in the middle of the night. She recovered from her ear thing and we had a few good months, going to the park. But we lost her middle of May.  Another difficult night and morning with her before our final goodbye.

It’s not quite 2 months since she’s left. I’ve not had peace in mourning the loss. Trouble resume fast enough with the woman next door. It’s at least 12 years of on and off harassment. It’s too much to go into. I’m still singing my old song. It is exhausting. The police liason officer finally came yesterday about the June 11 incident. I was overcome with emotions. I’m not sure how clear I came across. But I did show him the video of June 26th without explanation. Halfway through, he asked if she has a mental health issue.

I did express that I think she’s a psychopath/narcissist, that she’s more trouble now that she has enlisted ‘Al’ to help her. I am not hopeful at all that the police will have any effect. We all are sure that when she presents her side, it will be quite different. But how many ways can she explain her actions? Her outburst and intrusion into our yard was caught by my camera as is her ripping out our signs. It is not logical to plant a row of spruce trees in a 6 inch space beyond your driveway and right against our raised bed on our property. I would not call that cooperation but malice.  And why and how can she prevent us from mulching our cedar trees on our own yard? But somehow she has done that thru bullying and belligerence. She will not allow me to talk. She talks over me. And I have to yell and shout but I will not succeed. I will become angry by all this. I have.

It is not just one thing. It is about everything. She is very definite and sure I can not cross the what she consider is her line. If my bean crosses the fence, she will snip it off. But she says the bylaw gives her right to come 2 feet into my yard. She does not offer me this same courtesy. She has crossed my line many times – into my yard to spray and weed. She has added on top of my fence (it is a fence I paid for and 2 inches within my property)  without permission. All this sounds very petty. It is. When you examine it, it really is about nothing. And yet here I am, bothered and bewildered , tapping out my angst in the middle of the night about all this f’ing nothingness. It can and does drive me mad.  It is 6 in the morning by this time.

I am really disgusted that I’m spending so much energy and getting so emotional  about this malicious nothing of life. And yet, when I try to walk away, she won’t let me. She would say or whisper something to insinute, to malign to cause trouble. She is very good at this and I have fallen into her trap many times. She tells me that my neighbours hate my yard and that they leave their keys with her. That’s a suggestion that they are on side with her and against me. This, of course, is heresay, made up . But lying is not against the law. She whispers her pretend sympathy and support that I should not have to do the yard work. I’m retired and should be enjoying myself. She’s insinuating my partner is doing nothing, getting a free ride, taking advantage of me.

When I tried to disengage, she interferes with my work, removing my landscape rocks, tossing them at me. When I put down my hoe and try to walk away, she calls out that I can’t keep her out. She can tear down anything I put up. This was last fall. When I try to walk across the street to maybe get Al to talk to her, she calls out, ‘Al is not home’. That was the first time I called the police for help. Enough is enough.

Last fall, we each had our separate talks with the police liason officer. We were both not to trespass, stay on our side of our imaginery wall to the sky. Spring comes. Things haven’t changed. She hasn’t changed. We cannot do anything on our property next to her driveway without her noticing and interfering. And here I am, in my space, still tapping my angst. I like to think I have changed, made some progress. I like to think I have some insight. This is not about me. This is not just about property issues. This is about harassment. Before, she did not talk about ‘it’s her property’. She talked about doing ‘our work’ scraping the natural mulch and weeding around our cedars though we don’t want her to.

Way back when she first moved in, she was intent on shovelling all her snow onto my yard, even after I asked her not to. I have problems with moisture getting into the basement with the spring thaw. It fell on deaf ears. She even threw the snow over the back fence, had her handy man clear the snow off her roof and dump it onto my backyard.

Now my cedars have grown, with no or little gaps between them. We have placed a raised bed where they ended. They make a natural fence line. With that and her big driveway between us, there are clear boundaries. Given that there are 6 inches between the fence line and her driveway, is that enough room to plant spruce trees there, right beside our raised bed. And to ask the Weedman spray all along the edge is just nasty. We grow vegetables in the bed.

I’m unloading a lot of crap of 12 years onto the page. I have to. Otherwise all this shit will kill me. It is especially frustrating and lethal because it is all about nothing.  After talking with the police liason officer, I felt the frustration over the years all the more. I felt more helpless and powerless. In the end, I felt: ‘what the hell was all this?’ She will spin her tale. She knows and plays the game so well. She is quite skill in it.

I know that it is wise for me to let this crap go. It is NOT about me. I’m not the one who is trespassing on her property. I’m not the one weeding and spraying on her side. I’m not the one who is doing anything to her, except report her to the police. I am standing up for myself. I have to stay true to myself – to who I am. I have to look after myself. And if there is a time to swear, it is now. F*^#k!! The police did say it would be ok for me to douse her with water if she is trespassing on my property and causing trouble. But no punching. But if anyone had pulled out his signs like she did, he would punch them. (VBLOL)

** I’ve written quite a mouthful. It must be equivalent to 3 posts. I might sound crazed but  hope I make sense. I consider myself all caught up with the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

 

 

HAVING A PLAN, MAKING LISTS

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I’m listening to the pitter patter of raindrops on the deck roof. It’s rhythmic and soothing. Just what I need. Today, I feel rattled and aggitated, waiting for something bad to happen, more drama from next door. The sight of her ‘across the street friend’ crossing over with tools can do that to me. I feel a bit of a coward. But I’ve heard about men with tools. They can be mean.

Maybe it is just the clouds that brought on the nerves though it was sunny this morning. Despite and maybe inspite of my nerves, I went for a bike ride to our community garden. You know what they say about sunshine and fresh air. And it did help some. I got out and moving. Sometimes my anxiety holds me housebound and helpless, my mind like white noise or snow on TV screen. It’s in these times that having a plan and making a list would help me.

There’s no time like the present to put that in action. So I entered the numbers in for the police, police liason officer and my other neighbour’s on my phone. It’s easier and quicker to get help in a hurray when I’m alone. I don’t want to hit 911 too many times if I can help it. I’ve been caught off guard, like a deer in headlights too often lately. Doing this single thing helps clear the snow. My mind is quieter. I must give lists and plans more thought. A wing and a prayer are not enough.

TO INSPIRE AND BE INSPIRED

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I think it is better for me to use my time to inspire or to be inspired. These last while I have lost my mind and energy in stress over the pettiness of nothingness of someone else – not a friend or a relation. So in effect it was a nobody. How foolish is that? It is the foolishness of being a human, susceptible to trickery and evil. I’m over that, at least for the time being.

Who inspires me?

  • Anne Lamott and her Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. I admire her honesty and frankness. I am inspired by her advice on witing in a one-inch picture frame and as far as you can see in the length of a headlight’s beam. When you get there, you start again. That is how you can travel the distance, inch by inch, beam by beam.
  • Laurie Wagner of 27 Wild Days. Her 27 video poetry prompts, one each day inspired me to write from my heart. She reads a poem twice. Then it was up to me to write without censorship for how many minutes – 15-30? It doesn’t matter.
  • It works much like Julie Cameron’s Morning Pages.
  • Then there are all those creative souls in my Instagram Community. There’s too many to name. I’ve learned and been inspired so much by them – the textile and other medium artists. They share their ideas and methods   freely. They are generous in their praises and encouragement.
  • My mother is most inspiring of all. I don’t even know how to begin. Perhaps that could another post.

This is enough for today. I’m learning to write in a one-inch picture frame. Tomorrow is another day and another inch. I’m learning to let go of what does not serve me. I’m going towards people who inspire instead of destroy.

 

LIFE IS FOR PASSIONS

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Here it is, the 8th day of July and the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I am finding life a bit of a challenge. I am sure we all are with the Covid-19. I’ve lost my fur baby of 14 years in May. I’m still grieving for Sheba. There’s not a day that I don’t think of her. On top of that, the neighbour is still on her harassment path. Summer is here. There’s the garden and yard to tend to. I cannot do anything near our cedars beside her driveway without drawing her attention, followed by her drama. The purpose of this month and challenge is to help me disengaged from her negative energy. I want to live in peace alongside her property.

Most days I feel I’m going nowhere. It has been 12 years now, off and on that she has been harassing me. I am tired and fed up with her in my thoughts constantly. I am sick of working on the problem. I took some time this morning just standing and watching the plants sway in the wind. I felt as if I was swaying with them, letting their rhythm soothe, empty and calm my mind. I’ve given away too much of my time and energy to the woman next door. It’s doing me in. Time to stop.

It’s not as if I’m lacking for things to do. There never seem enough time to do all the things I want to. I could lose myself for hours puttering in the yard and garden. There’s harvesting each day – lettuce, spinach, Chinese mustard greens, strawberries. Today I got a handful of blueberries and haskaps. Then you have to do something with the harvest. Otherwise they would spoil and go to waste. At each day’s end I am tired and wishing for more time.

I really must get myself back from overthinking and stressing about the neighbour next door. I have much better things to think about. I’m over a week behind in the Daisy Yellow Index Card a Day Challenge. I made time today to catch up a little today. It was a much better time spent, making art on a 4 x 6 index card. Sheba came alive again – on paper. Life is too short for someone to rob me of my passions.

 

 

 

GERBIL ON A WHEEL

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Some days I feel like a gerbil on a wheel, going around and around, not getting anywhere. The more I try to change, the more I stay the same. Or so it seems. Now, I’m looking at the drama that my neighbour creates as opportunity to change. Sure, it brings distress,  but the disruption gives me a pause to examine myself and my life. I ask myself:

  1. What is it that is here before me?
  2. How and what led up to it?
  3. What can I do about it? What has helped? What hasn’t?
  4. Who owns this property?
  5. Who owns me?
  6. What is important to me? What isn’t? What are my core values?
  7. What are my goals for this month of writing for the Ultimate Blog Challenge?

I find it necessary to revisit and review my goals and purposes, if not daily then weekly. My biggy is to fall madly in love with life again. To do that I have to work out and disengage my feelings from my narcissistic/psychopathic neighbour. She has wormed under my skin and seeped into my soul. I have become as obsessive of her as she is with me. I’m a bit of a drama queen, but only with words. They are a fair discription. I am more articulate with the written word. Verbally, I sound defensive and blaming. That’s not who I am. But I am guilty of being a self blamer.

Assessing how I’ve done this past week, I think I am doing ok. My storm within has chilled. I can look at my video of our drama together without the cloud of emotion. I can see that she had set me up again. I’m still that gerbil on a wheel. She was prepared for the camera, set for the game -apologizing, apologizing. What she didn’t say on camera was that she had been chucking my landscaping rocks at me the previous time. And she never apologized.

Some of people not knowing our history would see that I was the provoker. She was, after all, apologizing over and over and in her yard. What the video doesn’t show was she was ‘weeding’ around stuff I had just planted a few days ago. When I came out (I think she baited me), she high tailed into her flowerbed. She started calling me names and such. That’s when I turned the camera on. What matters though is I have captured her trespassing. The police does know the history.

She is right that the fence line is 6 inches from her driveway. My surveyor’s certificate has my fence sitting 2 inches inside my property. She already has the extra 2 inches in the back where the fence stopped at the front of my house. So why would she not give permission for me to access her property so the fence guys can extend the fence to the street? Then there would be no dispute and she can have her 6 inches. And she is the one who tells me she has the right to have a 2 foot access into my yard.  Of course she doesn’t talk this way with the police liason officer last fall. She also didn’t tell him that she knows alot of people at city hall and the police department. That’s what she tells me.

I am getting a little disturbed and distress recounting this. I will stop now but it was necessary for me to see with more clarity. She is very clever and good at this. I am not and I don’t want to be. I continue to find little gems of wisdom from this man. Hopefully I can get off the wheel at the end of this Ultimate Blog Challenge. Wish me luck.

MY TRUE SELF

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July 6th, the 6th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m a day behind. I should stop talking about catching up. I’ll just keep going from where I am. I don’t know why I am so busy. I live such a boring mundane life. I hardly go anywhere. I go shopping only when I have to. It’s an ordeal when I do. I’m exhausted when I get home, more so in these Covid-19 times.

I’m feeling that way now, exhausted. I’m sweating and sipping dandelion tea. Beer would be more cooling. I’m pecking away at my keyboard, hoping for a steady flow of words and thoughts. So far, so good. Some days I struggle and stutter. I really do not want to struggle so much. I do not want to allow the woman next door make me feel as if I’ve just come through a great illness. That’s how her energy affects me. I’ve found Dr. Les Carter’s little short videos helpful in steering me in the right direction.

I’m working on disengaging from her energy. She loves to tantalize and get me worked up. She is quite clever at this. I have to give her that. She must spend time studying my habits and routines and my responses. Of course she’s had 12 years to do it. I, on the other hand haven’t been smart or observant. I fall into her traps frequently. The only thing I know for sure is she won’t/can’t change. But I can.

I know I am not a mean person. I don’t go out of my away to cause a neighbour harm or annoyance. But after years of harassment sometimes I do feel maybe it is my fault. But when I come down to it, I wonder what and why is it my fault. I don’t do anything to her. I don’t trespass on her property. I don’t engage with her except when provoked. She, on the other hand, has trespassed on my property many times, sprayed pesticide in my garden, had her friend cart off stuff she thinks is junk on our property, pushed and scraped away all the mulch around our cedar trees, pulled out our fencing to hold the mulch around our cedars, throw my landscape rocks at me. I could write a book about her.

Maybe I will one day when I’m feeling better. Now, I am working on not letting just the sight of her get me riled up. This morning I watched in silence as she skipped across the street and back with coffee from her man buddy, Al’s. I’m working on less conversation about her. More will be poison. Obviously I have to talk about her here. I know I cannot eliminate it altogether. I am, alas, too human. I am like Sheba with a bone. I will do the best I can. I know I am a good person. I do not work at causing somebody misery for no reason. I know my true self.

 

ROY ROGERS AND TRIGGER

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A beautiful Sunday morning. My mind is in a bit of a tizzy with a messy floating list of things to do. I did not take time for my meditation. I thought I would save time. I slept in a little later than my usual 6 am. I was rewatching Schindler’s List on Netflix last night. Each time I watch a movie about the Holocaust, I’m more horrified by the evil and cruelty we human beings are capable of. In Schindler’s List, both the evil and the good are shown. Oskar Schindler was a flawed man, but the war brought out the hero in him. I needed to see that it is possible.

I’m trying my best not to be triggered by the woman next door. It is damn hard. I’ve just looked up from my tapping and what do I see? Her man friend from across the street up her tree, the one who helps her with her nastiness. He wasn’t that way before he hooked up with her. He used to smile and wave at Sheba and me on our walks. So I take a deep breath, releasing my own bad energy. I need to focus on my own power, confidence and boundaries. I close my blinds.

Of course when you try to avoid something, it becomes all that much harder. I’ve been to the store and back, to my mother’s and back. I’m watering and weeding my raised beds in the front. I see that she has watered those little spruce trees she planted right next to my raised bed – 9 inches from her driveway. Who does that? I’m triggered again. I’m pissed. I gave them a few squirts of water myself. I hope that they will grow huge, over her precious driveway, scratching her car. I know that’s not the right way to feel or to think. But I am a flawed woman. I try to get the triggers out of my mind. Roy Rogers and his horse, Trigger came to mind. I will try to hold that in my mind’s eye when I encounter that woman. It is a much better picture. I can learn to be heroic like Oskar Schindler. Maybe just a little.

So ends day 4 for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Still a day behind. Heavy big sigh.

 

THE LADY DOTH PROTEST TOO MUCH

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Morning has broken. Another beautiful Saturday morning. No, I cannot go for my regular Saturday swim at the YWCA yet. Convid-19 still dictates on what we can and cannot do. But in a few minutes, I can do a yoga session on Zoom. I will let you know how it goes. And I do not have my Sheba at my feet any more. She is all around me. I am more at ease with her physical bodily absence. I still tear up at the thought. She is still my baby. It’s 7 weeks since she’s left. Yes, I’m still counting.

I am enjoying my sip of tea between key taps. I still show up because it is what I do. It is my mental health practice. Sometimes I am too tired, like yesterday. It has been exhausting experiencing the narcissistic, psychopathic woman next door. And it is very next. My kitchen window looks right onto backdoor and her driveway. I am often triggered just seeing her, especially when she is tripping back and forth across the street to the man who helps her interfering in our yard. I am dedicating this month of the Ultimate Blog Challenge to work my way out of losing my energy and power to her. I do not expect her to change, but I can. I found one helpful source this morning.

The power lies in me. I already know that. I want to stop explaining, explaining and trying to proof the truth of my words. In the end I can do more damage to myself. There’s much truth in the phrase, “The lady doth protes too much, methinks.”

The Zoom yoga class was a bust. It was my first one. I’m not familiar with the instructor and I’m as stiff as can be! I’m not in love with it. I’m better off with my qigong or Yoga with Adriene on YouTube. Nothing ventured nothing gain. Now I better move my butt and go for my bike ride. Get some sun and serotonin. Change my brain, change my life. Maybe I can come back later and catch up. I’m a day behind this Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m a over a week behind Daisy Yellow Index Card a Day. I have no time to be maudlin.

 

MY WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY

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Day 2 of this writing challenge. It is a challenge, too. Maybe I should have started in the morning when I was fresh and had no time to be depressed yet. Now in mid afternoon, I am tired and stuck on my treadmill of thinking and thinking. I’m reminded of Portia Nelson’s poem, There’s a Hole in the Street. There’s a hole in the street and I’m in it.

It’s not that I’m just sitting and thinking. I’m tapping on my keyboard and sipping peppermint and ginger tea. I think I will take a tylenol to rid this overthinking headache. I’m not crying, Oh poor me! Really I’m not but poor me anyways. This is not where I want to be in life right now. But it is where I am. I better just suck it up.

I love Pema Chodron. I love her book When Things Fall Apart, Heart Advice for Difficult Times. I love her quotes.

“The most difficult times for many of us are the ones we give ourselves.”

“Rather than letting our negativity get the better of us, we could acknowledge that right now we feel like a piece of shit and not squeamish about taking a good look.”

“Our whole world falls apart, and we’ve been give this great opportunity.  However, we don’t trust our basic wisdom mind enough to let it stay like that.  Our habitual reaction is to want to get ourselves back—even our anger, resentment, fear, or bewilderment.  So we re-create our solid, immovable personality as if we were Michelangelo chiseling ourselves out of marble.”

“We don’t set out to save the world; we set out to wonder how other people are doing and to reflect on how our actions affect other people’s hearts.”

I do feel as if I’ve fallen in that hole. I’ve been going down that same damn street forever. Now I don’t even have Sheba to keep me company. Yes, I do feel that my world has fallen apart. Nothing stays the same forever. I shall use this window of opportunity to find a new street to walk.

 

 

 

GOAL FOR THE ULTIMATE BLOG CHALLENGE

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I can’t believe it’s July. I’ve entered the Ultimate Blog Challenge again. I’ve been doing it for a few years now. It didn’t seem to pose much of a problem or challenge before. I was writing almost every day regardless. This writing space has been my saviour, my therapist’s chair, more so in recent times. Now my words are more difficult and slower in coming. They seemed to have lost their luster. Reading back to my first posts in 2012, I seemed to have regressed. I obsesse and repeat myself over and over.

I have lost my way, losing bits and pieces of myself along this journey of life. All of it is hard. It always has been. I’ve been losing heart, too. It’s been damn difficult. It’s enough to make one cry and I have. I don’t like to admit it but I have. I think it is the first time for me. Other times I just bear down, grit my teeth and hold it all in. But with the loss of Sheba, I just sob. The dam has burst open. I’m all the better for it – I think. And I’ve been losing my energy and power to my badass neighbour over and over. She’s stealing my soul. I have to stop it, stop feeding her. I have to feed and nourish myself instead.

So I dedicate this month of the Ultimate Blog Challenge to tap myself back to health of mind and body, to the recovery of magic and beauty of the word, to regain optimism and belief in the good of this world. I want to fall head over heels in love with life.