The days are the same

Every morning I wake up trying not to check social media. Every day at work I struggle to focus and not wonder why my phone is so quiet. I try not to notice if the boy I'm sporadically seeing is on gchat. I try not to think about whether the other guy I've been talking to is going to finally make real plans to hang out.

Then I decide I should do something to fix it, and I write, usually to a buddy. Today I feel like I've probably fried my regular buddies. I have no plans this week, and T is about to go to Germany for 10 days. I guess I do have plans Tuesday, but that's it. I left my gym bag home today because I forgot it's Wednesday, so I guess I'm not going to the gym. I need to set more volunteer training sessions, but I keep trying to keep my nights open for plans that keep not getting made. And running the store by myself will probably be kinda lonely.

I am not someone who thrives on my own. I am someone who loves having time alone when it's not the norm. I can take care of myself fine, and I can survive loneliness and boredom, but I don't like it. And I'm really really tired of not liking the most common theme in my life.

Time to talk about my mental health again

Silly as I know it is, I hoped my depression would fade when I moved to Boston. Far away from the things that hurt, and in a new place where my only task would be to build up rather than watch my life fall apart, I figured my poles would be nostalgia and happiness. I was wrong.

I love my job, but it's still a job, in an office, with stress, and occasionally without anyone else around all day. I still watch/listen to a lot of tv and radio news to keep from feeling so isolated. I like where I live, and my roommate is one of my dearest friends. My money is holding up ok, which has been helped by the fact that I don't eat out during the week. I go to the gym 3-4 times a week and soak up the endorphins. I cook all my meals for the week on the weekends, and I have a routine that's comfortable. I have a few friends, including two of my best friends, and I can generally find people to hang out with when I want to. I still talk to several friends and my mom every week. I'm even dating some people, one who's flaky and hard to get in touch with.

And yet I'm depressed. Bored and lonely. I fret over whether anyone will like me, whether I'll ever find a partner. I get home in the evenings and just stare. Or watch TV. I assume that's ok for some people, but it's not ok for me. I don't want to live like this, temporarily or permanently.

I'm taking steps to build things. I'm volunteering at the local anarchist bookstore, and I'm embarking on a plan to visit museums and things that I want to visit. I have a second date with someone in two weeks, and I'm confirming a first date for tonight. I'm pretty excited about the former, but I know that I want to be in something more serious and I'm not sure he can do that. Plus it's hard to think about it without knowing where he is and how he's feeling. I'm bad at not thinking about it. But his life is full, he has several partners and hobbies and school and family. And I'm just floating out here, needing validation and company.

I need to be satisfied with my life as I've built it. Boredom is temporary. My life is mine. Still, I can't conceive of my life feeling full without a partner, but I know that I can't be in a relationship until I'm ok with the idea of my life feeling full just on my own. I always know that I'm depressed rather than sad because I can't see a way out. Sadness has a path out, even if it seems unattainable. Right now I can't imagine any situation where I'm not depressed. I often wonder, rationally and without emotion, if there's any point to keeping up trying to live. Why would I want to keep being miserable? Since I'm not in a tail-spin at the moment, I recognize that that's not a healthy thought. Last night I finally shared that thought with my bestie. I promised them I would tell someone else so the burden wasn't totally on them. I also explained that I'm not in a flurry of emotion that would cause me to hurt myself. Because it comes from a thought process, however irrational it truly is, I'm also able to intervene and reach out and ask other to take care of me until I can be distracted enough to move past it. I'm not in danger. But I'm not happy and I'm not ok being unhappy.

So it's time to find a new doctor and get my next birth control shot, a therapist to deal with the codependency issues, and possibly a psychiatrist to figure out how I can be on 150mg of zoloft and still be depressed all the time.

Time for a new plan. Today, I'll call my new insurance-provided PCP and make an appointment. I'll call mom, get work done, eat lunch, get work done, have my afternoon coffee. Then I'll enjoy my date tonight, and I'll send an email back to the guy I'll see again in a few weeks. I'll bake vegan cupcakes for an event tomorrow with a group I've never met before, and I'll go to bed. If I'm going to feel like a depressed zombie, I'm going to keep moving. I know the only way to break out of the coating of blah is to keep moving, even if it doesn't seem like it's going to help.

Why do some foundations give only to 501c3s and others give to non-501c3s?

Question:
Why can some foundations (like Crossroads) give to any organization, but others with similar missions (like Resist) don't give unless the organization is a 501c3?

Answer:
Basically, Crossroads isn't any different, they're just sticking their neck out further than most.

Crossroads is a foundation, which means it's a 501c3 that spends its money on other organizations rather than "doing the work" itself. In this case, they make a distinction between private foundations (which get money from a small group of sources) and public foundations (which get money from several sources). They are still only required to give out 5% of their total assets in a year, including whatever they spend on administration. (That is my personal pet peeve about foundation requirements. So much damn wealth stored up for no reason.)

So, here's the key: Foundations almost only ever give to 501c3 organizations, but that isn't strictly required. They can give to non-501c3 organizations, so long as the grant is still for a "charitable purpose." Which means that non-501c3s can get grants if their lack of 501c3 status is a coincidence. The risk of proving the organization's charitability falls on Crossroads. Crossroads can stick their neck out and give a grant to an organization that might not be approved for 501c3 status, but if the IRS disagrees, Crossroads has to stop giving to that organization. However, nothing I can find says that they'd have to pay the money back. So that's good. More likely than a foundation giving to a radical organization doing "charitable" work is that a foundation would give money to a for-profit organization to do "charitable" work. I'm guessing the ability to exploit it for personal or corporate gain is the far more likely purpose and use of this loophole.

Crossroads does require organizations have a bank account in the organization's name, which usually means having an EIN, which means filing an SS-4 (I think) with the IRS, which still means being legally recognized and regulated.



Sources:
http://www.washingtongrantmakers.org/s_wash/images/client/TopTenTrouble.pdf
http://www.grantspace.org/Tools/Knowledge-Base/Funding-Resources/Foundations/What-is-a-foundation
http://www.guidestar.org/FinDocuments/2012/363/092/2012-363092907-09004c8e-9.pdf

Footprints

I used to love that old story about someone walking through the sand, and Jesus picking them up and carrying them when things got hard. I have a different view of God, where God is love and love is expressed through other people. And this revision seems appropriate:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed a set of footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were a few sets, sometimes just one.
When I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat,
It seemed the whole world came rushing in to trample on me.
Finally I asked my friends why I got pushed around when things were so hard
And my friends replied,
"That was when we all came and took turns carrying you on our shoulders."

Goodbye, Marcus

Goodbye, Marcus. I loved you. I wanted the best for you, and for us, even though I knew that would mean we couldn't do it together. I can't bear to see you happy with someone else, because I know what happiness is for you. It's shutting things out. It's trying to be impressive. You are impressive when you stop trying.

It was your birthday about four months after we started dating. I took you to the zoo to see the Komodo Dragon, and to a comic shop, and out for chicken and waffles. On the way home, you had tears in your eyes, because no one had ever really done anything for your birthday, except your mom when you were a kid. You couldn't believe I loved you enough to do that.

We went to Florida and went to GatorLand. You were so happy there. You loved everything about its reptiley goodness. We had fun, and we went back to our hotel and had incredible sex.

We went to New Orleans in the middle of a rough patch, and stayed in a crappy hostel. It was weird, having free days to roam a new city, but you indulged me when I looked up GPS coordinates for thw where the levees broke, and visited them.

On the road trip there, we pulled over to have sex in Mississippi because who knew if we'd ever get the shot. We threw the condom out the window. We had sex in seven states. You were the best sex I ever had.

I don't think I'll ever see you again. You couldn't wait two and a half months for me. I don't know that I can heal from that. I don't know if I can forgive you. I can't keep loving you.

You went to Las Vegas by yourself and got a tattoo that says, in Latin, "where there is love there is pain." I hope that that isn't true in all of your relationships, Marcus. But you can add this one to the list of Brittany, Dana, Rebecca, Helicia, and Holly. We had great love. And now we have great pain.

And here I thought I wouldn't leave an impression on your life. You got what you wanted. Another wound.

I crashed tonight for the first time in a while, and when I began to come back up, I remembered some amazing things that I've done in the last two months.

• I lost 12 pounds on purpose.
• My resting heart rate is about 15-20 beats per minute less than it used to be (from 90s to 70s).
• I can stay on the elliptical at level 5 or 6 for 75 minutes, even after lifting weights.
• I can run up two flights of stairs without flinching, AFTER working out.
• My left foot used to hurt regularly, and it doesn't. My left knee used to hurt when I worked out, and it doesn't.
• There's a little faint line of bicep showing
• I've gone to the gym 5 to 6 times a week for two months now.
• I eat well six days a week.
• I cook nearly all my own meals.
• I regularly wear tank tops into the shark tank gym full of skinny undergrads.

Invisibility

It's become clear to me that L is living in the house I shared with E. None of our mutual friends will confirm or deny, on my request, but I'm pretty sure it's true. It hurts so badly to be replaced.

I am so much happier than I've been in a long time, and I'm moving forward with my life. It's 12:30 on Monday, and I'm taking care of myself as good as I ever have, but I'm crying. I don't know what to do, or what to say. I can't think of anything that will make me feel better and for eight months I've just been relying on time to heal this.

The thing is, I don't know that I actually miss him. I just feel invisible. I feel erased. I honestly think that if I didn't leave my room for a week, no one would notice. Maybe my boss if I didn't get to Atlanta at least once that week, but all of the people I relate to are far away.

I need closure. I need it so bad. I want to call him, say goodbye, hug, and leave forever. Anywhere but here.

That's what friends are for

i have said many times that i have the best friends in the world. and it's true. i do. i had an awful fight with my mom the other day, and i didn't know who to reach out to. but, as always, my friends knew just where i was. i talked to d about it on the phone, and t via chat, and i told m about it the next day but left out where the conversation started. here's what i wrote in a few different iterations.

mom is suddenly being awful. i know that she is completely freaked out
by interracial relationships, and she can't cover that up by
pretending that she's against polyamory. (that's what she did during
the first year or my relationship with m.) i haven't told her
about my plans with him, or that things are getting more serious. i
told her that the visit was great and i feel really good about it, but
she can barely hear anything about him at all. so i've tried not to
talk about it.

last night i called her on my way home from atlanta, and asked in a
very calm, mature way what the nature of her concern is. she liked him
as a person, and having grown up on military bases he lacks a lot of
the mannerisms, speech patterns, etc that would usually scare my
mother. she flipped. she acted as if i was telling her i had bought
her house out from under her and was selling it and kicking her out.
just so upsidedown and instantly hysterical. the closest thing to a
better understanding is that there are "cultural differences" between
races that cause problems down the road in relationships, and it's
something she just finds disgusting at the core of her being. i find
it almost funny that she'd worry about the future of this relationship
(code for kids) and not about my relationships with e or d,
where there were significant legal risks for being long-term partners.

i expected the racism. what i didn't expect was for her to tell me
that i'm still at a stage where i make choices in order to rebel
against her. if that's how she really sees me, there is absolutely
nothing i can do to fix it.

earlier in the conversation i'd told her that i was eating really well
and feeling really good, and this calorie counting thing i found
suggested 1,200 calories a day on non-workout days. she said the idea
is that 1,200 calories a day should eventually get me down to 120
pounds. that's about half my weight and i haven't been 120 pounds
since before puberty, so i laughed. she was serious.

after we hung up, she sent me an email. i didn't read it until today.
she says she doesn't know how to solve this "disagreement" between us,
but she hopes i'll pay attention to wisdom, and do i even bother to
pray anymore? and then she said maybe if i lost 50 pounds, my world
would "open up." she thinks i want to be with m because only he
(or probably only black men) would love a fat girl, and i'm
comfortable with it because it goes against the grain of society.

i haven't cried about this, and i have no desire to fight with her
about it. i also have no plans to call her. if i can't talk to her
about m, or my future, or how i'm taking care of myself on a
daily basis, what's the point? we're planning a big trip for her 60th
birthday in june, and at this moment i can't see that happening. i
can't see where this ends.

the responses i got from the people i talked to about this were spot-on. here's one.

 this is horrible. they need to have a PFLAG for racist parents. i'm so sorry you have to deal with this.

the body comments are so tired. i'm sure all this hurts, but i hope you can get some distance and see that it's not about you but rather about forms of oppression that she's tapping into to exert dominance over you. presumably because she feels powerless in her own life. again, not about you.

clearly, your mother has boundary problems (which prob. set you up for codependency). and the only way to be safe around someone with no boundaries is to create them for yourself and vigorously police them. and remember that we are victims of victims. i'd bet your mother has experienced deep misery over her body and her race issues-- not to mention her boundary issues. just a hunch. maybe her misery isn't so literally connected to what she's doing. but happy, mature people don't behave in this way.

ok, maybe that's all too honest? i'm sure you love her and want her respect. but she's a long way from being able to give you that. so some grieving is in order. and then, some rosie the riveter.

and the other. 

WOW that is a lot. i am so sorry that your mom's freakout resulted on those kinds of claims on your body. that is a lot. i think you're right to try to keep your distance from it, because it sounds like she hasn't found the real concern yet--even though her concerns are Big Concerns for a mom, i still don't think she's found the real one. from the outside, it looks like irrational parent freak out (like something my dad has done to me before, for example). 

i am so sorry...there are no words for this kind of thing. i am sending you the biggest hug. if it starts to go downhill and you need someone to talk to you/remind you to take an ativan, i am here.

so now i'm remembering that having and enforcing boundaries is not the same as cutting someone out of my life. and i am very, very strong.

Dreams

I've been having weird dreams lately, and I only remember snippets and feelings. Some of these are transparent, but I have no idea where the Biscuit ones come from. I'm not feeling any Biscuit-related angst lately.

-Me and T are in a car, on a winding bridge. I keep trying to make the hairpin turns at too high a speed, because I'm talking about something that upsets me. Eventually we go over the edge and dive into the water alongside the bridge. It's not urgent or scary, it's just like "oh damn."

-E answers my phone call or returns a call, and I ask him to tell me if his grandmother dies. She's been ill forever and I probably won't ever see her alive again, so I want to at least be at the funeral. He says he won't, and he explains why not. We talk about a few other things, I think about whether to be friends, and he explains honestly and calmly where he is and why it's not a good idea for him. I cry because it's not what I wanted, but I'm relieved that we could have an adult conversation.

-Me and the Biscuit are hanging out and we start having sex. It's hot, and incredibly comfortable.

-Later, the Biscuit and I are saying goodbye after a party with friends, and I hug him, and he says "I love you." I respond, "Awww, that's so sweet!" and he gives me exactly the look you should give someone when that happens. Sort of "huh?"

-I'm at a party and E and L are both there. It's uncomfortable, and I have the sensation of wearing scratchy wet wool lace. I think about whether to say anything to him, and eventually I come up with something I want to say. I think it's about his grandmother or something. I go up to him to say it, and he grabs me in a big hug. I pull away, surprised, and he hugs me again. Then we both go our separate ways, and it's fine. I don't think I ever said what I was going to. The feeling of reconciliation is palpable.

Relationships are weird.

Turns out, it wasn't just me. M and I are now considering how to give our relationship a real try. If I don't get into one of my top three (of five) grad schools, I'm moving to New Mexico. If I do get in, we don't know what will happen. I'll know by March. I need to remember to keep growing and keep fighting codependency even if there's love and a relationship on the horizon.

In the meantime, we're still seeing other people, and I'm trying to move ahead with my life. I'm finishing my applications, and the GRE is tomorrow. Marco came over a few days ago, and D came over today. He's still a total flake, but it was as amazing and fun as I expected it to be. I now have three impressive bite marks on my neck and chest.

A good friend is having a birthday potluck tonight and warned me that E would probably be there. I took the friend to lunch instead, because I really need to be able to live as if E doesn't exist. I thought about bringing someone with me -- the Biscuit would be a lot of fun and would make me a lot more comfortable in the space -- but I think I'd actually just end up putting too much stress on a friendship.

This bite mark, though. That's making me reconsider.