Rainy Days Get Me Down.

The Carpenters - Rainy Days And Mondays

Talkin' to myself and feeling old.

Sometimes I'd like to quit;

Nothing ever seems to fit;

Hangin' around, nothing to do but frown;

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

What I've got they used to call the blues:

Nothin' is really wrong;

Feelin' like I don't belong;

Walkin' around, some kind of lonely clown;

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Funny, but it seems that I always wind up-a here with you;

Nice to know somebody loves me.

Funny, but it seems that it's the only thing to do:

Run and find the one who loves me.

What I feel is come and gone before:

No need to talk it out;

We know what it's all about.

Hangin' around, nothing to do but frown;

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do,

Run and find the one who loves me

What I feel is come and gone before:

No need to talk it out;

We know what it's all about.

Hangin' around, nothing to do but frown;

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do,

Run and find the one who loves me

Hangin' around, nothing do to but frown;

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

Yes, talking to myself, feeling down, feeling old as I sit here in the cabin watching the storm roll in over the mountains.  Feeling alone isn't new, Alone and I have become old friends.  Feeling down isn't new either, as being Bi-polar provides plenty of 'feeling down', along with other challenges, which is probably the reason Alone and I are such dear friends.  Few manage to stay around for long, but the few that have are all great people.  "You cannot run away from me!" is what I heard the other day on the phone, and my reply was, "I stopped trying to run away from you, that's why I decided to marry you."  No, I'm not really married, she's already married, but we share something special so I'm her G'usband and she's my G'wife.  I'll never be sure of why such an amazing woman supports me, even when my moods are uncontrollable.

Hangin' around, nothing to be but frown.  Yes, just hanging around wondering when I reached this place and doubting if the smiles will return.  I've always enjoyed rainy days as the darkness is something I'm comfortable with, not to mention I enjoy the feel of the rain on my skin, how it glistens and pools together, and the fact that I can do my crying in the rain without anyone knowing.

Escaping, Writing, and Turning 50

Escaping, Writing, and Turning 50

Driving for 10 hours with a knee in a brace through the mountains of Colorado put a lot of pressure on the knee; however, I made it to the house in Winter Park.  My mind hasn't been geared towards writing so this morning is just for my personal blog, as I need to refocus my mind towards writing.

Fifty isn't an age I ever believed I would see, let alone be celebrating.  Yet, here I am about to celebrate 50 years of living in this physical realm.  As seems customary, I'm alone.  Fifty years and the only birthday party I've ever had was the one I threw for myself when I turned 30.  I rented a space in the only Country Western gay night club in Arlington, Texas, and invited the people I knew to come celebrate and dance the night away with me.  I used to love to Country Western dance, something I haven't done in many years.  The club scene doesn't appeal to me much anymore, not to mention it is difficult to find good dance partners.  That night 20 years ago began a change, as that was the night that someone younger than I chased after me.  You see, I've always enjoyed the company of older men.  Maybe it was because I found them refined, intelligent, or it was simply because I felt that I could relate to them.  I seldom had friends my own age growing up.

For three days I have driven, because my friends were concerned about me driving after knee surgery.  Yes, they all know how stubborn I am and when I want to do something, I do it.   For years now I have denied something of myself, my heritage - that of the simple country bumpkin running around the farm with my animals, riding my horses, going rodeing on the weekends, water skiing with the family every Sunday (every day on the weekends if there wasn't a rodeo).  Thus, yesterday I visited the American Quarter Horse Museum, the night before I bought myself my birthday present - Wranglers, Justin Ropers (I didn't know they didn't make the Lace Up Ropers anymore), a cowboy belt, and a cowboy hat (which I had shaped into my own personal style).  Yes, I'm returning to my roots.  Every moment of which has brought memories long buried.  I don't remember much of my life, either by choice or because of the many challenges with my brain.

The last month has taken me to the point of extreme exhaustion, to the point that I could no longer deal with people. Buried somewhere inside the rough exterior is the loving, caring, gentle child that life pushed inside the now strong walls for protection from the evils of the this world.

How does one reconnect with that inner child and to allow that child to reimerge knowing it is safe to exist even when there are chances that pain may present itself?