Duped again.
Same trap.
Love and deceit.
Unanswered questions.
Bewildered.
Dumbfounded.
Beside myself.
Grieving an ideal.
Another loss.
Amazed at audacity.
Took a risk.
Fell flat.
On my face.
Mouthful of dirt.
Choking on dust.
Embarrassed.
Mortifed.
Was it worth it?
Trial and error,
Illogical for a mended heart.
Lost connection.
Fell into you.
Then passed you.
Straight to the ground.
No one to catch me.
Left to my own devices.
Consumed by thoughts.
Questions of legitimacy.
Was any of it real?
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Who knew social media could elicit such feelings?
It is so easy to get sucked into Facebook. Someone once told me looking through other people's profiles on FB felt like a form of voyeurism. According to this person, most of the "friends" on your FB page aren't really even friends. We just know who they are and are being nosy. The more I thought about this, the more I thought they might be onto something. It never fails, I see something that piques my interest and I just have to delve deeper looking for the back story; the history. I click on the picture and get sucked into the life of someone else. I'm a relative stranger looking in. Observing through pictures and comments; piecing together every day life or at least their life at that moment. It's an easy trap to fall into and I admit it: I become a FB stalker. At least in that moment.
For whatever reason, you may find yourself (or, at least I do) with hundreds of friends on FB and you may actually talk to an eighth of them on a regular basis in real time. You "friend" them b/c you went to high school with them, but haven't seen or spoken to them since graduation. They may be a friend of a friend, but because you hung out as a group one night, they have become your "friend" on FB, but not in real life. You run into someone you haven't seen in years who asks, "are you on Facebook?". To which you respond, "I am! Look me up!". I recently just fell prey to this last one. I was so surprised to hear myself say it. It was as if the words never really left my mouth.
I have just recently attempted to be more social on FB. I cruise the wall, make comments on random things, "like" others. I used to not be a very interactive FB'er, but everyone else was doing it and I didn't want to seem antisocial, so what the hell. Unfortunately, my attempt at being more interactive has brought on feelings I have only allowed myself to experience a handful of times over the past year.
As I look at other people's pictures, I see happily married couples and families. People seemingly smitten with one another. Even though I am certain they aren't always that happy with one another, the sight of it makes my heart ache and with great effort I try not to cry. I become deeply saddened at the loss of my family. It pains me to no end realizing I walked away from it. I made that choice. I sometimes think back and ask if I could or should have done anything differently. I left my husband with our two very young children a year ago. It is absolutely surreal to me. One, that I left. Two, that it has taken me this long to feel any sense of myself. Three, that I still mourn.
I look at my two boys and can't help but feel this suffocating grief and fleeting, but overwhelming regret. This wasn't what I wanted for them. Even more so, I didn't want them to keep experiencing the insanity of living with two sick parents. I wanted so badly to get better and I have. I just knew there was nothing left to do in my situation. Or, was there?? Even though I felt confidant in my decision, I still question it sometimes. I made sure I had done everything I could to salvage my marriage before I walked out. I hate to think how much worse I would be a year later had I stayed and survived. I am convinced, had I stayed, I would have killed myself or (after our last fight in April 2011) he would have killed me had I challenged him again.
Either way, I can tell you I lived every day with the most overwhelming sadness. I operated and survived on flat out, fucking rage. I experienced a resentment that completely consumed me. I became OBSESSED with trying to control things completely out of my control and then behaving like a lunatic; a literal mad woman. I don't know I will ever be able to fully explain it to someone who hasn't experienced firsthand the literal insanity of addiction and codependency. I don't say that in a, "you have no idea" tone. I say that in a "I thought I knew until I lived it" tone. I had no idea I was capable of some of the things I had done. I never thought he'd do some of the things he did. In my wildest dreams (nightmares really) I never thought I would become the hateful, violent, person I once was. I never knew it was possible to not only lose all sense of self, but to hate yourself with a passion.
I don't really claim to know much. I know what I feel and I know what I think. However, this fractured mind isn't always the most reliable. Details often get lost in translation. One thing I know for certain is I am going to continue to make mistakes and have to ask for forgiveness. I will continue to be humbled and I am completely OK with that. I also tell you, I like the person I have become a whole hell of a lot better today. I used to live consumed by regret, resentment, and remorse. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. My hair was falling out. I had constant chest pains. I even scowled, I think. I felt like I was drowning. I don't have to be that way today. It may have taken me longer than I expected to get back on my feet; to get back to everyday functioning. The reality is, it's been a year. Seems like much longer, but really not long at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. Especially looking back at how sick I was. In fact, I would say I am doing remarkably well given the demise of my 5 year "plan". I am no longer suffering in silence.
I may become mournful over pictures I see of seemingly happy and madly in love people because those moments don't exist for me anymore. The reality is, those moments were few, far between and typically substance induced. The moments in between those snapshots of eluded happiness were so horrifying, it started to not be worth the Kodak moment. I have no problem posting pictures of just me and my boys on FB having a grand ole' time because a year ago, I had no idea how to enjoy them. I can tell you for certain, those moments are genuine. And the times that carry me to Kodak moments today (even though chaotic) make me smile more often then not.
For whatever reason, you may find yourself (or, at least I do) with hundreds of friends on FB and you may actually talk to an eighth of them on a regular basis in real time. You "friend" them b/c you went to high school with them, but haven't seen or spoken to them since graduation. They may be a friend of a friend, but because you hung out as a group one night, they have become your "friend" on FB, but not in real life. You run into someone you haven't seen in years who asks, "are you on Facebook?". To which you respond, "I am! Look me up!". I recently just fell prey to this last one. I was so surprised to hear myself say it. It was as if the words never really left my mouth.
I have just recently attempted to be more social on FB. I cruise the wall, make comments on random things, "like" others. I used to not be a very interactive FB'er, but everyone else was doing it and I didn't want to seem antisocial, so what the hell. Unfortunately, my attempt at being more interactive has brought on feelings I have only allowed myself to experience a handful of times over the past year.
As I look at other people's pictures, I see happily married couples and families. People seemingly smitten with one another. Even though I am certain they aren't always that happy with one another, the sight of it makes my heart ache and with great effort I try not to cry. I become deeply saddened at the loss of my family. It pains me to no end realizing I walked away from it. I made that choice. I sometimes think back and ask if I could or should have done anything differently. I left my husband with our two very young children a year ago. It is absolutely surreal to me. One, that I left. Two, that it has taken me this long to feel any sense of myself. Three, that I still mourn.
I look at my two boys and can't help but feel this suffocating grief and fleeting, but overwhelming regret. This wasn't what I wanted for them. Even more so, I didn't want them to keep experiencing the insanity of living with two sick parents. I wanted so badly to get better and I have. I just knew there was nothing left to do in my situation. Or, was there?? Even though I felt confidant in my decision, I still question it sometimes. I made sure I had done everything I could to salvage my marriage before I walked out. I hate to think how much worse I would be a year later had I stayed and survived. I am convinced, had I stayed, I would have killed myself or (after our last fight in April 2011) he would have killed me had I challenged him again.
Either way, I can tell you I lived every day with the most overwhelming sadness. I operated and survived on flat out, fucking rage. I experienced a resentment that completely consumed me. I became OBSESSED with trying to control things completely out of my control and then behaving like a lunatic; a literal mad woman. I don't know I will ever be able to fully explain it to someone who hasn't experienced firsthand the literal insanity of addiction and codependency. I don't say that in a, "you have no idea" tone. I say that in a "I thought I knew until I lived it" tone. I had no idea I was capable of some of the things I had done. I never thought he'd do some of the things he did. In my wildest dreams (nightmares really) I never thought I would become the hateful, violent, person I once was. I never knew it was possible to not only lose all sense of self, but to hate yourself with a passion.
I don't really claim to know much. I know what I feel and I know what I think. However, this fractured mind isn't always the most reliable. Details often get lost in translation. One thing I know for certain is I am going to continue to make mistakes and have to ask for forgiveness. I will continue to be humbled and I am completely OK with that. I also tell you, I like the person I have become a whole hell of a lot better today. I used to live consumed by regret, resentment, and remorse. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. My hair was falling out. I had constant chest pains. I even scowled, I think. I felt like I was drowning. I don't have to be that way today. It may have taken me longer than I expected to get back on my feet; to get back to everyday functioning. The reality is, it's been a year. Seems like much longer, but really not long at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. Especially looking back at how sick I was. In fact, I would say I am doing remarkably well given the demise of my 5 year "plan". I am no longer suffering in silence.
I may become mournful over pictures I see of seemingly happy and madly in love people because those moments don't exist for me anymore. The reality is, those moments were few, far between and typically substance induced. The moments in between those snapshots of eluded happiness were so horrifying, it started to not be worth the Kodak moment. I have no problem posting pictures of just me and my boys on FB having a grand ole' time because a year ago, I had no idea how to enjoy them. I can tell you for certain, those moments are genuine. And the times that carry me to Kodak moments today (even though chaotic) make me smile more often then not.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Starting over...
Jeggings. I got into (what was supposed to be a friendly) debate with my sister over jeggings. An article of clothing I swore I would never buy. I did however. And I like them. So, kiss my ass. I couldn't find a pair of jeans that fit into my boots the way I liked because I was losing weight so rapidly. In fact, my jeggings are now getting baggy. This debate, razzing, joke, literally brought me to tears. My family looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Crying. Over jeggings?? REALLY?!? After my sister left and sent me a text apologizing and trying to make amends, I realized it's not about the jeggings. The jeggings are representative of a bigger issue I hate to think about; let alone speak about...dating.
I am panic stricken about embarking on the dating world again. And I mean panic. Chest pains, short of breath, excessive sweating, senseless rambling, panic. I just don't know that I have it in me. I don't have the time, patience, or attention to be someone that I'm not. I don't want to worry or give extra thought to what I am wearing or what I'm saying. I am what I am; and that's a hot mess. I'm a spastic, flighty, impulsive, sweaty, mess. I am moody. I can't keep track of shit. I forget constantly. I like to be comfortable. Which means I don't typically look "sexy". I cuss like a sailor and spit like a ball player. I burp, fart, and poop. I put my feet in something that resembles a Chinchilla bath before I put my socks on. I love my yoga pants and sundresses. I love my cowboy boots and would wear them or gym shoes any day of the week. I hate bras, but like something to absorb boob sweat if need be, therefore I opt for tanks with the built in bra when at home. Never fear, I wear a bra in public at all times. And considering this post started by talk of jeggings, I would like to point out that I do not own sweatpants with writing across the ass. My ass does not scream, "JUICY", "SEXY", or "PINK". If you have some of these pants, more power to you. I am not attempting to draw any attention to my ass. I do a fine job of making myself look like a complete ass without any extra attention to the real thing.
Point being, I can't imagine someone sticking around for long if they really knew me. I can't imagine someone wanting to be with another person who requires a handbook and comes with disclaimers. I'm good in small doses. I don't want to do fear and rejection. I just want to be ME. Unfortunately, over the past several years I lost myself. I frequently found myself saying that I didn't know who I was anymore, I didn't like who I was becoming, and I felt like I was going crazy. Not to mean, my life has dramatically changed over the past 5 years. I don't know where to begin. I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to say or not to say. I am still finding me. And, for the most part, I'm OK with that. I'm better off daydreaming a future with someone because the reality of it is beyond my imagination. Those around me make it sound like there are all these "rules" to dating. I can't keep track! This is reminiscent of me trying to learn euchre. Too many rules. You know what rules I'm talking about. When and how often do I call or text, what do I say, where do we go, what do we talk about, what do I wear??
Since when is meeting someone for lunch worthy of a panic attack and embarrassing pit stains? I am the person who breaks all the "rules" apparently. I don't make good eye contact. Mainly due to my ADD and my inability to focus when looking at someone; especially someone I find attractive and who shows an interest in me. But, also because I get so nervous, I turn into a blushing, bashful, stuttering, school girl (it's ridiculous, really). I give way too much information. I tell people I am medicated. My personal favorite, is when I recently told a man (the pit stain provoking lunch man) I was like Rain Man (which by the way, is a phrase I use often). He responded that probably isn't the most flattering way to describe myself. But, it's so true! I am a creature of habit. I thrive on routine. When it gets fucked up, I am beside myself! Most days I adjust and make do, but depending on what it is, it can cripple me. I ramble. I am tangential. I can have six different "side bars" before I ever finish the first thought in a conversation. I "hyper focus", meaning I can get stuck on something and ignore the rest. I reference conversations from days ago because something stuck in my mind and I replay it over and over until I get it out. The list goes on.
I honestly think I sabotage myself because I am afraid of rejection. I have experienced some pretty painful rejection in my time. But, being left to my own devices during a suicide attempt by my (now ex) husband was a kick in the dick. It took the wind right out of my sails. However, I can't keep going back to that. I picked myself up and walked away. I am not that person anymore and I refuse to go back. So, why do I continue to go back to that? Why let him continue to effect my life at all? I have good qualities. Hell, some may even consider them great. People really do like me; idiosyncrasies, oxymorons and all. Some people appreciate the fact that they don't have to question where they stand with me. Other people, not so much. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I shoot straight from the hip. I try to be conscious of others feelings, however I develop a stutter when I am struggling to say something difficult. I am compassionate. I am passionate. I am empathetic. I am more humble than I've ever been. I love helping people. It pains me to see any being suffer. I want to bring them peace or at least show them another way. Not that my way is always right. I can admit when I am wrong (another good quality I think). I relate to people and I just want them to know they are not alone. I may not know exactly what they are going through, but I don't want anyone to ever feel alone. I am here. I have a good sense of humor. I make people laugh. However, my sarcastic, dark-sided humor has known to offend or make me seem careless and crass; which isn't the case at all. I care so much and deal with some terrible situations. Humor is my coping skill. If I didn't laugh, I would cry. Contrary to popular belief, I am sensitive. I get my feelings hurt easily. I am headstrong (sounds much better than hardheaded). This characteristic can go into both the pro and con columns. I may bitch, moan, groan, scream, or cry; but once I've had my "moment", I will typically move on. I am a survivor. I am strong. I am a fighter (not physically). In fact, I hate physical violence and am ashamed I have resorted to it in the past. I am slowly accepting who I am. However, gaining confidence in that person is very difficult. I have been beat down and am in the process of being remade. I am a work in progress; that's for damn sure. I have come a long way and have a long way to go. But, I am proud of where I am at. I really am. This may not be my ideal situation, but I am feeling better than I ever have. I have a lot to contend with, but I also have a lot to offer. If only, I would focus on the good qualities instead of listing all the negatives straight out of the gate. If only I believed in myself as much as others and quit being so damn hard on myself. If only, I would stop saying "if only" and move my ass! I need to accept that fact that this is the way that God made me and realize He loves me, flaws and all. And maybe, some day, He will bring me someone else who loves me for me. Someone who may not like all my idiosyncrasies, but at least tolerates them because my light shines bright. I just have to continue to trust where I am at. Be patient with God, myself, and others. Focus on me and becoming even better. Most of all, I have to continue to have FAITH...
I am panic stricken about embarking on the dating world again. And I mean panic. Chest pains, short of breath, excessive sweating, senseless rambling, panic. I just don't know that I have it in me. I don't have the time, patience, or attention to be someone that I'm not. I don't want to worry or give extra thought to what I am wearing or what I'm saying. I am what I am; and that's a hot mess. I'm a spastic, flighty, impulsive, sweaty, mess. I am moody. I can't keep track of shit. I forget constantly. I like to be comfortable. Which means I don't typically look "sexy". I cuss like a sailor and spit like a ball player. I burp, fart, and poop. I put my feet in something that resembles a Chinchilla bath before I put my socks on. I love my yoga pants and sundresses. I love my cowboy boots and would wear them or gym shoes any day of the week. I hate bras, but like something to absorb boob sweat if need be, therefore I opt for tanks with the built in bra when at home. Never fear, I wear a bra in public at all times. And considering this post started by talk of jeggings, I would like to point out that I do not own sweatpants with writing across the ass. My ass does not scream, "JUICY", "SEXY", or "PINK". If you have some of these pants, more power to you. I am not attempting to draw any attention to my ass. I do a fine job of making myself look like a complete ass without any extra attention to the real thing.
Point being, I can't imagine someone sticking around for long if they really knew me. I can't imagine someone wanting to be with another person who requires a handbook and comes with disclaimers. I'm good in small doses. I don't want to do fear and rejection. I just want to be ME. Unfortunately, over the past several years I lost myself. I frequently found myself saying that I didn't know who I was anymore, I didn't like who I was becoming, and I felt like I was going crazy. Not to mean, my life has dramatically changed over the past 5 years. I don't know where to begin. I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to say or not to say. I am still finding me. And, for the most part, I'm OK with that. I'm better off daydreaming a future with someone because the reality of it is beyond my imagination. Those around me make it sound like there are all these "rules" to dating. I can't keep track! This is reminiscent of me trying to learn euchre. Too many rules. You know what rules I'm talking about. When and how often do I call or text, what do I say, where do we go, what do we talk about, what do I wear??
Since when is meeting someone for lunch worthy of a panic attack and embarrassing pit stains? I am the person who breaks all the "rules" apparently. I don't make good eye contact. Mainly due to my ADD and my inability to focus when looking at someone; especially someone I find attractive and who shows an interest in me. But, also because I get so nervous, I turn into a blushing, bashful, stuttering, school girl (it's ridiculous, really). I give way too much information. I tell people I am medicated. My personal favorite, is when I recently told a man (the pit stain provoking lunch man) I was like Rain Man (which by the way, is a phrase I use often). He responded that probably isn't the most flattering way to describe myself. But, it's so true! I am a creature of habit. I thrive on routine. When it gets fucked up, I am beside myself! Most days I adjust and make do, but depending on what it is, it can cripple me. I ramble. I am tangential. I can have six different "side bars" before I ever finish the first thought in a conversation. I "hyper focus", meaning I can get stuck on something and ignore the rest. I reference conversations from days ago because something stuck in my mind and I replay it over and over until I get it out. The list goes on.
I honestly think I sabotage myself because I am afraid of rejection. I have experienced some pretty painful rejection in my time. But, being left to my own devices during a suicide attempt by my (now ex) husband was a kick in the dick. It took the wind right out of my sails. However, I can't keep going back to that. I picked myself up and walked away. I am not that person anymore and I refuse to go back. So, why do I continue to go back to that? Why let him continue to effect my life at all? I have good qualities. Hell, some may even consider them great. People really do like me; idiosyncrasies, oxymorons and all. Some people appreciate the fact that they don't have to question where they stand with me. Other people, not so much. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I shoot straight from the hip. I try to be conscious of others feelings, however I develop a stutter when I am struggling to say something difficult. I am compassionate. I am passionate. I am empathetic. I am more humble than I've ever been. I love helping people. It pains me to see any being suffer. I want to bring them peace or at least show them another way. Not that my way is always right. I can admit when I am wrong (another good quality I think). I relate to people and I just want them to know they are not alone. I may not know exactly what they are going through, but I don't want anyone to ever feel alone. I am here. I have a good sense of humor. I make people laugh. However, my sarcastic, dark-sided humor has known to offend or make me seem careless and crass; which isn't the case at all. I care so much and deal with some terrible situations. Humor is my coping skill. If I didn't laugh, I would cry. Contrary to popular belief, I am sensitive. I get my feelings hurt easily. I am headstrong (sounds much better than hardheaded). This characteristic can go into both the pro and con columns. I may bitch, moan, groan, scream, or cry; but once I've had my "moment", I will typically move on. I am a survivor. I am strong. I am a fighter (not physically). In fact, I hate physical violence and am ashamed I have resorted to it in the past. I am slowly accepting who I am. However, gaining confidence in that person is very difficult. I have been beat down and am in the process of being remade. I am a work in progress; that's for damn sure. I have come a long way and have a long way to go. But, I am proud of where I am at. I really am. This may not be my ideal situation, but I am feeling better than I ever have. I have a lot to contend with, but I also have a lot to offer. If only, I would focus on the good qualities instead of listing all the negatives straight out of the gate. If only I believed in myself as much as others and quit being so damn hard on myself. If only, I would stop saying "if only" and move my ass! I need to accept that fact that this is the way that God made me and realize He loves me, flaws and all. And maybe, some day, He will bring me someone else who loves me for me. Someone who may not like all my idiosyncrasies, but at least tolerates them because my light shines bright. I just have to continue to trust where I am at. Be patient with God, myself, and others. Focus on me and becoming even better. Most of all, I have to continue to have FAITH...
I really don't know anymore...
While going through the hundreds of emails that I cast aside for a later date, I came across a couple of "thoughts" I emailed myself on December 14, 2011. I emailed them to myself with every intention of finishing them and turning them into posts. However, much like most of my thoughts, they hit me like a ton of bricks then fall into the recesses of my mind. I thought I would share them anyway. If anything, you might get an iota of an idea of how this fractured mind works; as I emailed these all at the same time, prior to 7am. Meaning, I had them one right after the other. Thoughts flowing into one another so quickly, I didn't even have time to finish the previous before another one came to me, and so on...
****
When you have someone who's been such an integral part of your life, adjusting without them is difficult. Unfortunately, it seems I've "started over" so many times, I'm getting used to it. Difference being, this time my life is significantly different. As unstable as my marriage was, I continued to have hope that we could make it. No matter how minuscule, there was hope; along with lots of ups and downs, false promises with good intentions, but something always in the way.
****
I hope one day, they too can be humbled as I have been. When you're living one day at a time and sometimes less than that, one day is a good day. One day that I get up is a good day. One day that I don't cry is a good day. One day that I laugh is a good day. One day that I don't want to die is a great day. It's easy to fall into the vicious cycle of insanity and old behavior. It's harder than hell to get back out. When you live one day at a time or, an hour at a time, its hard to focus on anything else. I did good today and that should count.
****
Lonely. Regret. Fear. Confusion. Lost. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. That's the list of feelings that come to mind currently and I've probably only identified an eighth of them. My eyes feel swollen from the crying. I can't imagine how they'd feel if I actually gave in to the temptation to cry every time I felt it. If I cried as much I wanted to, I would probably look like someone having an allergic reaction; eyes swollen shut, red, and blotchy face. I look in the mirror with no make up on. Dark circles, permanent creases in my forehead from a frequent furrowed brow. My big, brown eyes. I have gotten countless compliments over the years. I have been stopped in public in order for an admirer to compliment. However, as I look at them now; they look so sad. So lost. I look into the marvel of my big brown eyes and I wonder, have they always looked this way? All the years of insanity; repeating the same behavior. Why am I just now noticing? Then I impulsively check my teeth to make sure there isn't any leftovers. While I do so, I instinctively notice the small chips in my front teeth from constantly having them clenched. Always on edge. Always on guard. I am looking forward to the day in which I can actually live. I'm so tired of being in "survival mode". Putting out one fire after another at an exhausting pace, always realizing the small individual fires could take over and set the whole damn forest ablaze. I put out one fire and turn around to see the flames of another quickly approaching.
I have always been pretty good at "pulling myself up by my bootstraps". I have done it countless times. I grieve in my own way and then distract myself with someone/something else.
I have always been pretty good at "pulling myself up by my bootstraps". I have done it countless times. I grieve in my own way and then distract myself with someone/something else.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
A Reformed Morning Person
I have never been a morning person. I have always valued my sleep. I used to be an 8-10 hour girl, easy. I worked 2nd and 3rd shift. I wasn't a fan of 3rd, but I liked 2nd. No rushed mornings. Time to relax and drink my coffee in my pajamas. Lounge around and be. Once upon a time, I was able to just BE. I don't like to be rushed. Ironically, I always feel like I am rushed. I frequently feel like the ball in a pinball machine. Bouncing from one thing to another. I have a friend who used to ask me frequently where I was running. Even when I really have no place to go, I walk fast. As if I am on some sort of mission. I have to be reminded to slow down. 
Since having children, I have seen more sunrises than ever. I remember when I found out I was pregnant, my biggest fear was how I would survive with little sleep. I remember waiting for the elevator at work one morning completely sleep deprived. Between a newborn, a teething one year old, and on call, I was awakened every hour. While standing there in my dreary haze, it dawned on me...you just do it. There is no rhyme or reason. There is no secret. You don't get sleep when you have children and you just manage to function. 
Here recently, I have started to learn the beauty of sunrise. Every once in awhile I get the opportunity to just get lost in it. I used to meet my friend for early morning hikes on the weekends I didn't have my boys. I was able to slow down and just be. As difficult as it might be to drag my ass out of bed, the reward is awesome. Especially when the weather starts to turn and it gets cold in the morning. I love the cold and sun. I love to see the sun reflect off the frost. Millions of tiny crystals covering everything and reflecting the light. I could literally stay out there for hours and just take pictures. Completely mesmerized by the beauty of nature.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to borrow my sister's amazing camera. Luckily, she now trusts me to borrow it. Maybe since my children are still alive, I am more trustworthy with an expensive piece of equipment. I was up very early and it was very cold outside. I walked outside and straight in front of me was this beautiful sunrise. I turned around and noticed the moon still hanging on. I found it to be quite amazing. The sun rising and the moon slowly making its descent. Like yin and yang in a face off. 
What I loved the most was the contrast in colors. In front of me was the bright oranges and yellows. Signs of a bright, brand new day. Behind me was the darker pinks, purples, and blues. Darkness descending. Marking the end of another day. In this quest, mission, journey...I still don't know where to start most days. Maybe I should say I know where to start and I am just procrastinating. I don't know that I am up for the work, to be quite honest. I have such a difficult time getting my bearings in all other areas of my life. I am not sure I am ready to open Pandora's box.
I have my moments of martyrdom, self-loathing, and self-depreciation. However, in all the mayhem, I have started to make a conscious effort to thank God every day for this day. My 5 year plan may have fallen by the wayside. I may not be where I want to be right now. I can tell you I am the most uncomfortable I've been in a long time. But, no matter how shitty it seems, I can always find something to be thankful for. I have a job. I have two healthy boys. I woke up today and therefore get to have one more with them crammed into one bedroom at my parents house. As uncomfortable as that seems, the reality is I am not visiting them in the oncology ward at Children's Hospital. They may drive me crazy sometimes, but at least they get the opportunity. I am starting to be more grateful in my life. Sadly, some might say I still complain too much. Truth is, I probably do. I continue to be a work in progress. I have been bouncing around for years. I have recently realized, I like to get lost in nature. I like the calm; the peace. I like the sounds of trees creaking in the breeze; leaves crunching underfoot. I like to be stopped in my tracks and staring at a deer or seeing them bedded down in the leaves. I am still in awe of how nature works. I am not sure how anyone can look around them and not realize there is a God. A Being much more powerful than us. It seems every day is a miracle. So, as the sun sets and the moon rises, I feel blessed to have another day. As this cycle continues, I will continue to be amazed at the beauty of the Earth and the intricate design of Mother Nature. I hope I am continuously afforded the opportunity to get lost in it. Most of all, I hope I am afforded the opportunity to share it with my children. And as long as I am afforded the opportunity, I hope to have a camera in hand. I don't know I have learned how to capture the majesty of Mother Nature yet, but I'm just getting started. Even if I am not the next Ansel Adams, I have found another therapy. Another way to BE...
Saturday, December 24, 2011
When all else fails...
At the end of the day, when your heart is seized by so much pain that your chest literally hurts; when you feel like your heart is so heavy, the bottom will drop out and you are tired of crying yourself to sleep, you can always rely on Ani Difranco to help turn that pain into resentment and anger, getting you through another lonely night. When all else fails and you're tired of hurting, listen to this song and take a moment to feel jaded and bitter. As much as I don't like to get stuck in this mode long, sometimes it feels better than feeling like a sorry sack who was duped again. So, because I don't think I could say it any better, I am going to post the lyrics to one of my favorite songs by Ani Difranco. A pick me up, so to speak. Hope you enjoy...
Need I say more??
Oh yeah, Happy Fucking Holidays!!
And peace be with you...
"Untouchable Face"
by: Ani Difranco
Think I'm going for a walk now
I feel a little unsteady
I don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
I could make you happy you know
If you weren't already
I could do a lot of things
and I do
Tell you the truth I prefer
the worst of you
Too bad you had to have a better half
She's not really my type
but I think you two are forever
and I hate to say it but
you're perfect together
So fuck you
and your untouchable face
And fuck you
for existing in the first place
And who am I?
That I should be vying for your touch?
and who am I?
I bet you can't even tell me that much
Two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
Neon sign on the horizon
Rubbing elbows with the moon
A safe haven of sleepless
Where the deep fryer's always on
Radio is counting down
the top 20 country songs
And out on the porch the fly strip is
waving like a flag in the wind
Y'know, I don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
You'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
And I won't know what to do
And I won't know what to say
Except fuck you...
I see you and I'm so perplexed
What was I thinking?
What will I think of next?
Where can I hide?
In the back room there's a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
And when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
There's a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
I see orion and say nothing
The only thing i can think of saying
Is fuck you...
I feel a little unsteady
I don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
I could make you happy you know
If you weren't already
I could do a lot of things
and I do
Tell you the truth I prefer
the worst of you
Too bad you had to have a better half
She's not really my type
but I think you two are forever
and I hate to say it but
you're perfect together
So fuck you
and your untouchable face
And fuck you
for existing in the first place
And who am I?
That I should be vying for your touch?
and who am I?
I bet you can't even tell me that much
Two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
Neon sign on the horizon
Rubbing elbows with the moon
A safe haven of sleepless
Where the deep fryer's always on
Radio is counting down
the top 20 country songs
And out on the porch the fly strip is
waving like a flag in the wind
Y'know, I don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
You'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
And I won't know what to do
And I won't know what to say
Except fuck you...
I see you and I'm so perplexed
What was I thinking?
What will I think of next?
Where can I hide?
In the back room there's a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
And when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
There's a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
I see orion and say nothing
The only thing i can think of saying
Is fuck you...
Need I say more??
Oh yeah, Happy Fucking Holidays!!
And peace be with you...
Friday, December 23, 2011
Please tell me I was wrong...
The end of the day is the hardest. Typically on my way home, the reality sets in. I don't have a home. I share a room with my two toddlers. I sleep in a California King bed alone. Vast space surrounding me as I curl up on one side. Yearning to walk through the door and into someones arms. Desperately trying to understand how I ended up here. Parts of me deeply regretting the red flags. Other parts of me realizing some really amazing things have happened regardless. Then there is a part of me which is grateful for this incredibly humbling experience. I try to thank God every day for the many blessings in my life. Even though it seems I have pain in epic proportions, I am so dearly blessed. There are so many out there far worse off than me. In fact, when I really think about it, I have no reason for complaint. However, the reality of my situation still hurts like hell. I waited to get married and have children in hopes to avoid a situation like my current one. However, by the time my 3rd anniversary rolled around, I had two children and was separated. In the past 6 months, my life has changed dramatically. I stand in awe of the situation frequently. One of the catalysts over the past 6 months was someone who I thought of as a dear friend. My support. My cheerleader. Feelings developed on both sides outside of the realm of friendship. A reality we both tried to ignore and then flat out deny. We spoke of a connection like no other we had experienced. Even with our spouses. I really thought I found my soul mate; kindred spirit; best friend; partner; you get the point. I finally found a person who's goal was to help me become better. In the short years of my marriage, we endured counseling, retreats, etc. The one thing I remember hearing time and time again was to wake every morning asking yourself what you could do to make your spouse's life better. I rarely (if ever) got the impression that my ex-husband had that thought. But, with this new man, I did. I was flabbergasted. Completely smitten. Someone actually cared about ME and wanted to take care of ME! Instead of me neglecting myself to care for others (enter martyrdom). As the months unfolded, a picture was painted of this life together. A future. The future I had always dreamed of. Having a partner; a REAL partner. Working beside me in tandem. Someone who loved me as much as I loved him. Someone who, when they said they had my back, did in fact have my back. Someone I could rely on. When he looked at me as I was filled with fear and doubt and said, "it's you and me", I believed him. I felt safe. I thought, even if I had nothing else, I would always have him. Finally, someone who would be a constant in my life. A given. However, somewhere along the line, it all crumbled. We changed. Boundaries blurred. Confusion, anger, fear, resentment, and tortuous pain set in. I thought I had stepped off the roller coaster when I divorced my alcoholic ex-husband, only to board another one. I got sucked back into the "back and forth". Saying things without really saying things. Questioning. Uncertainty. Feeling like I have to read between the lines b/c nothing is ever said for sure. At the end of the day, I have been crushed. Again. When my marriage was over, I grieved the loss of an ideal. Now, I grieve the loss of something I really did have in my grasp. However, like sand squeezed tightly in my fist, it slowly drained out until there was very little left. Only remnants. Not enough to really see, but you can definitely feel the grains in your palm. Much like my relationship with this man. You can't really see it, but sometimes I feel the minuscule grains. Grains of hope. Crushed by reality. I have told myself many things to be OK with this situation; to make it less painful. I have turned my pain into anger. I have told myself it was all bullshit. I have told myself he never really loved me. I have told myself he is not the one for me; in addition to the "ageless symmetry" we had, there was too many discrepancies. But, at the end of the day. When it's all said and done. I just can't believe that the connection was a fake. I want for him to just tell me it was all a mistake. A mirage. Tell me it's not real. Please tell me I was completely mistaken. It seems so much easier than not knowing. It seems so much easier than thinking I actually did have the dream within my grasp only to have it trickle through my fingers, regardless of how hard I squeezed.
I want to know I was wrong.
It seems far less painful than it all being real and now all being lost.
I want to know I was wrong.
It seems far less painful than it all being real and now all being lost.
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