So......

...it's been a minute since I wrote last. Too much time on Facebook. And therein lies the problem... cuz now there's so many folk I know on Facebook I'm reluctant to tell my tales since if they wander over here--and some do--they can probably figure out who I'm talking about.

Not that I tell unpleasant tales.

And not that there's that much to tell.

I'm sort of rattling around in my head. Feeling out what my next step will be.

I got into a discussion with Fatlady the other night about meds. I go back and forth about the whole thing, and I don't knock anyone who decides to go that route... I really don't. But I guess I have a fundamental distrust of them, since I don't see the difference between them and say, ganja. Having grown up in a country where a spliff was a common medicine--even though technically it was illegal--I guess what I don't trust is the line that meds help take the edge off so you can deal with your problems. Well, so does herb. So does tequila. For instance, tequila makes me downright euphoric and able to cope. But I wouldn't go and self-medicate with it on a regular basis because I know that 1.) there are side effects and 2.) ultimately nothing really changes except that you feel momentarily better. Same with meds.

I guess I've been wondering about it because most of the people I know who consider meds or who end up using meds have something in common and that is that they tend to be artistic. And most of the artistic people I know are downright crazy. They either write well, or paint, or sing, or have a musical talent. The especially crazy ones do more than one thing. We already know sensitive artistic souls carry with them issues that drive them mad. But at the same time it's what drives you to create. Who are you without that sensitivity? Artistic people who go on meds report feeling better, but many of them say they can't play their instrument, or sing, or write. And then they end up going off the meds. And feel worse because they know the difference between "feeling better" and not "feeling better." And feeling better is in quotes since I question what "better" actually means.

And so I wonder.

I went to an exhibit of Graffiti art at Hostos Community College in the Bronx last night. A room full of nuts. Seriously. One guy was walking around with a kerchief over his mouth and nose that was printed with the words "Art is my weapon". One guy had lost an arm, probably doing something he shouldn't be doing, and was definitely strange. To say nothing of the old dudes (really my age or a little older) who were walking with so many issues that it made them appear older than they were. Yet the work on the walls was out of this world. If you're in the neighborhood it's a show well worth seeing.

Having gone through my bout of extraordinary psychic pain very recently, I wonder. My problems haven't gone away; without meds I feel better and am coping, even though technically my problems have escalated. But I guess going through all that pain and coming out the other side, ultimately I'm stronger. I could have done without the pain, no doubt. It sucked. And it sucked my time up. But I came to a few conclusions about myself in the process and had I taken meds I wonder if I would have come to the same place?

Out of fire comes new life, new growth...

So here I sit, wondering where my life will go. My conversations with the Fabulous are still going on... but he like me has that "thing" and he procrastinates and I'm not sure I'm all that patient anymore, although I may have fired him up. But I'm running out of time. There's things I want, having gone through all that pain I know for certain what I'm looking for and what I want, but I know my time is short. Two years, tops.

And so I came up with Plan B. Fostercare. And I find it a little amusing how quickly people tell me to "be careful" or that it might be more than what I can handle.

But there are sooooo many children in need of love and support, many of them of little brown babies, who are in need of a home.

And I realized, through all that pain and hell, that I need to love. On my own terms in my own strange little way. And children don't challenge you on HOW you love, so long as you love them. Receiving love is good, and I need that too, but I have the need to give it. So I wonder...

The cons are though, that it would pretty much wreck whatever chances I have of actually going someplace to meet anyone interesting. So maybe I'll wait two more years before I get into it. I haven't made up my mind.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

My Sun's photo, along with his classmates, appeared in the NY Daily News. His music school's violin ensemble was asked to play at the Children's Inaugural Ball in Washington, D.C. He had sort of casually mentioned the possibility the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, as I took him and the Moon to school. Monday I was going through his school's Purple Folder (how parents and the school communicate) and saw I needed to sign a consent form for photos to be taken. Tuesday the News came and photographed the kids. Wednesday it was out in the paper. We had gotten to school at 6:45A because the Sun and Moon were going on their 4/5 grade camping trip, and on the way I picked up the paper. By the time the kids were off on their trip and I'd gone upstairs to help out on a new-parent-tour of the school, the office phone was ringing off the hook. NBC News wanted to come in and interview the kids.

It was probably just as well the entire (well, most of them, anyhow) 4/5 class was out. Gives the hoopla a chance to die down...

But it's cool. He's going to play for the Obamas!!!!