Feeling like the world's biggest loser. Not sure of what the point is. Feeling like I wish my life was over because it really feels over. Over.
Not successful in my marriage. And I tried
Not successful in gaining any guy's interest and I am trying. In 24 hours, I was approached and rejected by two guys after sending them my picture. Am I so undesirable?
Not complete in friendships; hurt by someone I thought was a friend.
Not successful in my teaching skills and I am trying. Afraid I am going to lose my job. I am dying.
Not successful in making my finances improve, if anything they are getting worse.
Feeling more alone than ever. Feeling more of a loser than ever. A worthless human being.
Pathetic. Unwanted. Loser. Ugly.
The box where I might put those feelings is soiled tonight. Broken and decaying like wet cardboard; folding over itself; folding onto me.
I can't breathe. I can't even cry. I am dying.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Friday, November 27, 2015
Wedding Day
So I guess the thing is, as I type this, three vodka tonics under my belt today… I find I can not numb out the fact that he is no longer my ex- so much as her husband now. The anger, the frustrations of MY husband not working to be my partner, my equal lover, my heart…has now been made further invalidated (as though his prior actions were not invalidating enough). I am a has-been in his story book, and he in mine.
I wonder, did he feel anything today? Did he think of me? Are our kids okay?
My heart hurts, underneath this spinning room I am feeling. The picture from my sons instagram also belies a sadness. What will it all mean, I wonder.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
What makes love real?
What makes love real, I wonder
Soliloques of words professed?
Unconditional acceptance of who and what we are, what we look like?
Farting under the covers in bed, laughing?
Is it staying long after the fun of new romance has left,
With trust innured into a warm glow of heart, assurance, knowledge of permanence?
I don’t know, I have wandered into a room that I do not know,
The lights have turned off, and I spread my hands out in the darkness,
Tentatively, and nervous I will stumble, fall and hurt myself
The groundless feeling of being alone, stands in moments of silence
There is no pain.
There is no warmth from a lover
But there is me.
I guess I must seek this unconditional acceptance of who and what I am. What I look like.
My faults and gem will be mine to own, without guilt and question. So that I might share them with my lover someday.
Soliloques of words professed?
Unconditional acceptance of who and what we are, what we look like?
Farting under the covers in bed, laughing?
Is it staying long after the fun of new romance has left,
With trust innured into a warm glow of heart, assurance, knowledge of permanence?
I don’t know, I have wandered into a room that I do not know,
The lights have turned off, and I spread my hands out in the darkness,
Tentatively, and nervous I will stumble, fall and hurt myself
The groundless feeling of being alone, stands in moments of silence
There is no pain.
There is no warmth from a lover
But there is me.
I guess I must seek this unconditional acceptance of who and what I am. What I look like.
My faults and gem will be mine to own, without guilt and question. So that I might share them with my lover someday.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Dear Mom
Dear Mom,
I am writing this letter to you, even though it has been some time since we last spoke. I miss you, you see, not ever realizing that I would never see you again, nor hear your voice though I knew it was an inevitable happenstance. It just never honestly registered, until you were gone.
I miss you Mom, and the gift that you gave me in knowing that even though we did not see eye to eye on many things, and our communication was almost nonexistent, that I never doubted that you loved me. That you were there for me, as only family can be (even when you weren't there for me, that message was yet still conveyed, somehow).
Now that you and Dad are both gone, I feel really alone. My family is now my children, and I am the full grown up on this ship. It is a really tough thing to handle some days, and I wish you were here, if only to "tsk tsk" and provide some sort of input into my life, for these days there is very little.
A lot of things that are happening, are based upon my decisions alone. Ed is long gone, as I am sure you know. He is no longer my family.
Eileen and I are sisters and I love her a great deal, though I don't know if she really knows this. She is a floating island, set far and away from me; we contact with each other so rarely these days.
So I am alone now. With many friends, and supporters it is true. But that feeling, the groundless I don't know what it is like to have someone anymore feeling can be so overwhelming some days. And i guess, I can appreciate that my human condition is not unique to me alone. But it makes it no less lonely, nor makes me no less sad, some days.
So Mom, here is a shout out to you. Thank you for being my Mom. And I hope you are living your days and nights, happy in Heaven. I love you.
June
I am writing this letter to you, even though it has been some time since we last spoke. I miss you, you see, not ever realizing that I would never see you again, nor hear your voice though I knew it was an inevitable happenstance. It just never honestly registered, until you were gone.
I miss you Mom, and the gift that you gave me in knowing that even though we did not see eye to eye on many things, and our communication was almost nonexistent, that I never doubted that you loved me. That you were there for me, as only family can be (even when you weren't there for me, that message was yet still conveyed, somehow).
Now that you and Dad are both gone, I feel really alone. My family is now my children, and I am the full grown up on this ship. It is a really tough thing to handle some days, and I wish you were here, if only to "tsk tsk" and provide some sort of input into my life, for these days there is very little.
A lot of things that are happening, are based upon my decisions alone. Ed is long gone, as I am sure you know. He is no longer my family.
Eileen and I are sisters and I love her a great deal, though I don't know if she really knows this. She is a floating island, set far and away from me; we contact with each other so rarely these days.
So I am alone now. With many friends, and supporters it is true. But that feeling, the groundless I don't know what it is like to have someone anymore feeling can be so overwhelming some days. And i guess, I can appreciate that my human condition is not unique to me alone. But it makes it no less lonely, nor makes me no less sad, some days.
So Mom, here is a shout out to you. Thank you for being my Mom. And I hope you are living your days and nights, happy in Heaven. I love you.
June
Monday, September 14, 2015
Lost and Found
I am tired of being "lost" and am now ready to be "found".
I have done so much work and introspection and I have found my own strength, I know it is a lifelong process which I embrace
My heart has some scars; many I am sure
But this simply reflects a life lived;
Risks once taken, love met
And so much healthy tissue of the soul remains that i am encouraged
To move on
To live on.
To keep my spirit and find a mate
Uncompromised in my needs (and theirs), but now,
Better informed, truly
Older, wiser, loving, joyous
A critical moment in time...
I have done so much work and introspection and I have found my own strength, I know it is a lifelong process which I embrace
My heart has some scars; many I am sure
But this simply reflects a life lived;
Risks once taken, love met
And so much healthy tissue of the soul remains that i am encouraged
To move on
To live on.
To keep my spirit and find a mate
Uncompromised in my needs (and theirs), but now,
Better informed, truly
Older, wiser, loving, joyous
A critical moment in time...
Monday, August 24, 2015
Frayed thread
Could someone please remind me that I am not the loser I am currently feeling like? My self, an unwanted soul, looked upon as a nuisance to some, a discomfort to others...
It is not a nice feeling. I am grasping at straws to make myself feel the kindness that is essential to my self. But right now, my ass hurts because of my hip injury, I'm feeling alone, my kids are stuck somewhere else, and even when they are here, I feel... Free floating like a string that is being pulled from a frayed sweater.
I need to make this go away. So many call me strong, but I feel not. Strong. Not. Real.
Loving kindness is what I am seeking, but it is hard. I will take a moment. Remember. Remember.
It is not a nice feeling. I am grasping at straws to make myself feel the kindness that is essential to my self. But right now, my ass hurts because of my hip injury, I'm feeling alone, my kids are stuck somewhere else, and even when they are here, I feel... Free floating like a string that is being pulled from a frayed sweater.
I need to make this go away. So many call me strong, but I feel not. Strong. Not. Real.
Loving kindness is what I am seeking, but it is hard. I will take a moment. Remember. Remember.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
And so it goes
What I know, I know from experience, from my heart, from my intellect. But is it enough? Isn't this the same for everyone who tries to make sense of their world?
In that "what the fuck" moment, my feet dangle mid-air, my breath pauses, and my heart misses a beat. Am I doing the right thing? Am I who I am?
When I try to put my ducks in a row, I notice many of them are chipped now. How can they be ordered, when life keeps forcing me to knock them apart? Is this my life, my destiny? Will this be "it"?
Yes, I am depressed today. Feeling as though I should lay low today, keeping my head down because I do not want to share this negativity nor give it any credance. I am laid up, involuntarily anyway because of this sports related injury, a hip labral tear that put the fear of "what ifs" in me.
What if it is bad, what if I need surgery, who would take care of me, my kids. I can not call the asshat, I will not. My girlfriends stepped forward in response to my sending an alert "bat signal beam" into the clouds, but even that felt wrong. I hated asking for help; it felt like the thing you would ask family to do (as you'd do for them) without that feeling of being beholden). But aside from my sister (who did help with my mri run), I have no one. She is not someone I can ask for too much from, and again, I won't.
On a completely separate front, I am a bit sad for a different reason. The sweet, sexy, young Greek man I had been seeing and talking to for a month has gone...and I wont be hearing from him again, I am sure. And I can not blame him. Let us put aside the fact that I am 18 years older than him, a fact he had set aside himself. I enjoyed his company, he made me feel desired and sexy, a feeling that had been long forgotten. And I felt the same, oh my God. But I could not ask for more, since it was his decision in the end if he wished to continue seeing a woman not just his senior, but one afflicted with that one thing that can put the fear into anyone; I have herpes. Minor risk, given all that is known now, but why should anyone put themselves into that position when they don't have to. Did not ever think it would last, we had so little in common, but I was enjoying being with his soul. Regardless of what happens there, I wish him well. My heart and thoughts sends out a series of good and happy karmic pulses to him; I liked him greatly.
My own truth, less than pretty, speaks these words in my head: A less scrupulous someone could lie, lie about my age because I easily look at least ten years younger and not the dreaded 50s (53 this year). I have leftover baggage from an abusive ex-husband who is now happily becoming a figment of my imagination (with his fiance soon to be wife). My two beautiful kids keep me sane, but take my time and that is set (for no one shall meet them until I think that person were here to stay). And I have herpes. Sheesh, just shoot this old horse down now, the negative voice in my head WANTs to say.
I can't let it, I won't. And I am, and never have been, a liar. That game of self recriminations has gone on for too long, and I am done. Yet today, I will admit it is feeling hard. The pain in my leg has literally taken me off my feet, off my game. The pain meds which help this, is hurting my ability to think, not to mention stay awake. I want to get on with things, have fun, enjoy my own person who I am trying to be. But that doesn't seem to be the karmic plan for me today or yesterday. Is this a moment to pull a mindfulness check into being present? I have not done so in a while, so perhaps that is what I should do,
What I am "meant" to do. Okay. And so it goes.
In that "what the fuck" moment, my feet dangle mid-air, my breath pauses, and my heart misses a beat. Am I doing the right thing? Am I who I am?
When I try to put my ducks in a row, I notice many of them are chipped now. How can they be ordered, when life keeps forcing me to knock them apart? Is this my life, my destiny? Will this be "it"?
Yes, I am depressed today. Feeling as though I should lay low today, keeping my head down because I do not want to share this negativity nor give it any credance. I am laid up, involuntarily anyway because of this sports related injury, a hip labral tear that put the fear of "what ifs" in me.
What if it is bad, what if I need surgery, who would take care of me, my kids. I can not call the asshat, I will not. My girlfriends stepped forward in response to my sending an alert "bat signal beam" into the clouds, but even that felt wrong. I hated asking for help; it felt like the thing you would ask family to do (as you'd do for them) without that feeling of being beholden). But aside from my sister (who did help with my mri run), I have no one. She is not someone I can ask for too much from, and again, I won't.
On a completely separate front, I am a bit sad for a different reason. The sweet, sexy, young Greek man I had been seeing and talking to for a month has gone...and I wont be hearing from him again, I am sure. And I can not blame him. Let us put aside the fact that I am 18 years older than him, a fact he had set aside himself. I enjoyed his company, he made me feel desired and sexy, a feeling that had been long forgotten. And I felt the same, oh my God. But I could not ask for more, since it was his decision in the end if he wished to continue seeing a woman not just his senior, but one afflicted with that one thing that can put the fear into anyone; I have herpes. Minor risk, given all that is known now, but why should anyone put themselves into that position when they don't have to. Did not ever think it would last, we had so little in common, but I was enjoying being with his soul. Regardless of what happens there, I wish him well. My heart and thoughts sends out a series of good and happy karmic pulses to him; I liked him greatly.
My own truth, less than pretty, speaks these words in my head: A less scrupulous someone could lie, lie about my age because I easily look at least ten years younger and not the dreaded 50s (53 this year). I have leftover baggage from an abusive ex-husband who is now happily becoming a figment of my imagination (with his fiance soon to be wife). My two beautiful kids keep me sane, but take my time and that is set (for no one shall meet them until I think that person were here to stay). And I have herpes. Sheesh, just shoot this old horse down now, the negative voice in my head WANTs to say.
I can't let it, I won't. And I am, and never have been, a liar. That game of self recriminations has gone on for too long, and I am done. Yet today, I will admit it is feeling hard. The pain in my leg has literally taken me off my feet, off my game. The pain meds which help this, is hurting my ability to think, not to mention stay awake. I want to get on with things, have fun, enjoy my own person who I am trying to be. But that doesn't seem to be the karmic plan for me today or yesterday. Is this a moment to pull a mindfulness check into being present? I have not done so in a while, so perhaps that is what I should do,
What I am "meant" to do. Okay. And so it goes.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
My August
Sweet August bliss in the early morning filled with scents of unfamiliar comfort;
Days pass on with vanilla notes in a warm summer heat
My resolve is a mass of pulsing wants, needs, and action
Of things to do, obligations to address,
I am tired.
Of things to do, obligations to address.
I could say I want more, and i do,
But right now, I feel the reluctance to put myself out
In the blue seas of openness- take a chance, offer, neglect, regret a pulsing possibility I don't want to feel
The cool wind of September is starting to pick up in the horizon,
And what that brings I do not know.
But for now I sit still in the sunlight,
Closing my eyes, listening to the music buzzing in the background,
My cold glass of condensing ice water waiting for my lips to sip
Of peace, of solace, of sadness. And openness without expectation; desire.
Days pass on with vanilla notes in a warm summer heat
My resolve is a mass of pulsing wants, needs, and action
Of things to do, obligations to address,
I am tired.
Of things to do, obligations to address.
I could say I want more, and i do,
But right now, I feel the reluctance to put myself out
In the blue seas of openness- take a chance, offer, neglect, regret a pulsing possibility I don't want to feel
The cool wind of September is starting to pick up in the horizon,
And what that brings I do not know.
But for now I sit still in the sunlight,
Closing my eyes, listening to the music buzzing in the background,
My cold glass of condensing ice water waiting for my lips to sip
Of peace, of solace, of sadness. And openness without expectation; desire.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
What do I feel?
Why am I feeling the way I'm feeling?
I've never felt the hate before,
Never felt the loss like this
Why am I feeling the way I'm feeling
Just because he's getting married
Why why why would it hurt even after all he's done
Even as I moved on,
Even as she's moved in,
Even as the stars and the moons remained in the sky
When I thought all had been lost
And I know now that all had really been gained.
What does it mean to feel the way I'm feeling
Is it real, do I feel, can I cry or should I laugh;
The words have littered while my heart has healed
But why why why
Do I feel the way I feel
Is it real or is it surreal,
I'll never know.
I'll never know.
I've never felt the hate before,
Never felt the loss like this
Why am I feeling the way I'm feeling
Just because he's getting married
Why why why would it hurt even after all he's done
Even as I moved on,
Even as she's moved in,
Even as the stars and the moons remained in the sky
When I thought all had been lost
And I know now that all had really been gained.
What does it mean to feel the way I'm feeling
Is it real, do I feel, can I cry or should I laugh;
The words have littered while my heart has healed
But why why why
Do I feel the way I feel
Is it real or is it surreal,
I'll never know.
I'll never know.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
3 years, 7 months, 14 days after
I woke this morning in an incredible mix of physical pain and emotional anxiety. What has amped my usual morning sense of ennui? Life. Progression. That recurring fear of mine that I am alone and facing all the challenges of life (and even the pleasures) alone.
Those messages, internal and negative, sing the loudest in my sleep; my awakening is often met with them close by my side.
That lonely feeling of not having a male presence stinks; what is it that drives that desire, I wonder? Nature? Nurture? Sex? All.
I know it is time to live in my own skin and feel authentically good about it. REALLY. It is my chance, to live the karmic spirit of positivity I desire, the one that meshes with who I am without the negativity or trauma from another. But, of course, in that equation one can miss the delight and joy of being with a partner, the right individual who adds and doesnt take away from your life. So I am waiting, seeking, but not demanding- that last will only provide a quick trip off the path of sanity and joy. I can't make things happen but I can attract the right energies to me, I think. Or am I wrong?
Monday, June 29, 2015
Finding faith
What is my inner voice telling me? What does my heart say and how do my fears bend that message? Just like an addict going through withdrawal, things flush in and out into lucidity.
I am tired of meanness and sarcasm; I find I am questioning myself when my attempts of being kind and polite are subsequently met with apparent callous misunderstandings and suspicions; or perhaps indifference. I wonder is it me? Am I so far naive to not understand the "game" of being coy or appropriately "available, or whatever thing it is that makes others able to connect with partners quickly and with ease?
That feeling of being "different" persists; its been there since I was a kid. But I am coming to a place where I understand that I need to reconcile myself with who I am. To disregard others ideas of me, they are not allowed a place in my head. I can not hide who I am, nor should I? NOT ALLOWED IN MY HEAD.
Its different, I don't know if I can do this. But I don't want to let others tell me how little I am worth, or provide input as to how "inappropriate" I am... Is this my way towards happiness? Towards peace? Towards finding authentic love?
Towards finding faith in myself?
I am tired of meanness and sarcasm; I find I am questioning myself when my attempts of being kind and polite are subsequently met with apparent callous misunderstandings and suspicions; or perhaps indifference. I wonder is it me? Am I so far naive to not understand the "game" of being coy or appropriately "available, or whatever thing it is that makes others able to connect with partners quickly and with ease?
That feeling of being "different" persists; its been there since I was a kid. But I am coming to a place where I understand that I need to reconcile myself with who I am. To disregard others ideas of me, they are not allowed a place in my head. I can not hide who I am, nor should I? NOT ALLOWED IN MY HEAD.
Its different, I don't know if I can do this. But I don't want to let others tell me how little I am worth, or provide input as to how "inappropriate" I am... Is this my way towards happiness? Towards peace? Towards finding authentic love?
Towards finding faith in myself?
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Let's call it progress and then see...
I am tired of trying to make things happen. In my outward thoughts, I have developed an understanding that its good to try to plan for things that matter to you emotionally, financially, socially, etc. But I realize now that my internal mindspeak still relies on what I want to happen without giving a damn of whether its good for me or not.
I WANT LOVE. And not from anyone mind you, but from a person who fulfills a list of minimum criteria,. Age apparently matters: 47 to 53. Slender to slightly overweight. Fit. Attractive to me. Active. KIND. SMART. Respectful with a caring behavior that is focused towards me. Nonsmoker (occasional cigar events during "guy" events understandable). Unacceptable are men with an unkind sarcastic outlook, anger management issues, unsophisticated or completely uneducated men who have nothing to say that interests me.
Yet despite this shopping list of items, I can appreciate that many of those men are unattainable. Married, gay, or completely not ready. Or, of course, completely uninterested in me and what I have to offer.
It affects my self esteem to feel that it may never happen again, that I will find that "soulmate". Or that I may screw up any chance I have if I meet someone who could possibly be that special guy. Those whispers stating that I am attractive until they find out the truth. The imposter syndrome is so, so strong. The seedling that embodies my wants and my desires is wilting.
So my mindspeak frustrates my entire psyche. It makes me obsessive in a way that I do not want to be. It reminds me that I can and am, often so lonely. Yet my hours are not empty, there is so much to do, so much to accomplish in my day. Even in these hours of brazen turmoil, I fight to hold on to some semblance of fun and joy. Alone or not.
Downtimes filled with searching online for cute possible dates has become boring. I have been successful to a degree in meeting so many men, but the path has become blurred to what I want, particularly in relation to what they want. I am tired of that game, but my mindspeak prods me to go check again, and then again. It is time to stop.
Today, I am really going to try to move myself forward. Although I know that confidence is most certainly not the same as self esteem. I am going to tender the former, to allow my confidence and belief in myself move tentatively forward. To allow and give a break to my continually wilting self esteem. To allow my feelings of kindness and compassion to others take their natural course and hopefully spill onto my view of myself.
Call it an experiment. I have been recognizing how important this is to do. But perhaps, I have not really been doing it. I think I will try now. Just for today. Maybe if it feels right, I'll do it again tomorrow. Worry less about my "value", and work hard in doing what I know I can do, with confidence. I have done this with other areas of my life, let us see how this works when it is app,ied to love. No more online Match dating. No more fawning. Trust in myself, quietly without judgement. Let's see.
I WANT LOVE. And not from anyone mind you, but from a person who fulfills a list of minimum criteria,. Age apparently matters: 47 to 53. Slender to slightly overweight. Fit. Attractive to me. Active. KIND. SMART. Respectful with a caring behavior that is focused towards me. Nonsmoker (occasional cigar events during "guy" events understandable). Unacceptable are men with an unkind sarcastic outlook, anger management issues, unsophisticated or completely uneducated men who have nothing to say that interests me.
Yet despite this shopping list of items, I can appreciate that many of those men are unattainable. Married, gay, or completely not ready. Or, of course, completely uninterested in me and what I have to offer.
It affects my self esteem to feel that it may never happen again, that I will find that "soulmate". Or that I may screw up any chance I have if I meet someone who could possibly be that special guy. Those whispers stating that I am attractive until they find out the truth. The imposter syndrome is so, so strong. The seedling that embodies my wants and my desires is wilting.
So my mindspeak frustrates my entire psyche. It makes me obsessive in a way that I do not want to be. It reminds me that I can and am, often so lonely. Yet my hours are not empty, there is so much to do, so much to accomplish in my day. Even in these hours of brazen turmoil, I fight to hold on to some semblance of fun and joy. Alone or not.
Downtimes filled with searching online for cute possible dates has become boring. I have been successful to a degree in meeting so many men, but the path has become blurred to what I want, particularly in relation to what they want. I am tired of that game, but my mindspeak prods me to go check again, and then again. It is time to stop.
Today, I am really going to try to move myself forward. Although I know that confidence is most certainly not the same as self esteem. I am going to tender the former, to allow my confidence and belief in myself move tentatively forward. To allow and give a break to my continually wilting self esteem. To allow my feelings of kindness and compassion to others take their natural course and hopefully spill onto my view of myself.
Call it an experiment. I have been recognizing how important this is to do. But perhaps, I have not really been doing it. I think I will try now. Just for today. Maybe if it feels right, I'll do it again tomorrow. Worry less about my "value", and work hard in doing what I know I can do, with confidence. I have done this with other areas of my life, let us see how this works when it is app,ied to love. No more online Match dating. No more fawning. Trust in myself, quietly without judgement. Let's see.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
The backroads to peace
Solace can be reached by many paths; the chosen ways are generally not that road less travelled.
Yet when steered towards those rocky lanes, stumbling tentatively over the sharp spikes and barbs growing rampantly,
Lessons can be learned.
Of boundaries defined and not to be traversed, happily embraced and with sanity intact!
Of chosen memories cherished and honored amidst understanding that to survive the road now crossed it is important to keep eyes on that which is underfoot.
To know that it is possible to do better than "just survive", but to aim high.
Clouds rise in blue skies. Sweet air. Flowers and greenery beautiful and lush wind between crevices of granite, unknowing that their way had been encumbered at all. Just being beautiful.
Yet when steered towards those rocky lanes, stumbling tentatively over the sharp spikes and barbs growing rampantly,
Lessons can be learned.
Of boundaries defined and not to be traversed, happily embraced and with sanity intact!
Of chosen memories cherished and honored amidst understanding that to survive the road now crossed it is important to keep eyes on that which is underfoot.
To know that it is possible to do better than "just survive", but to aim high.
Clouds rise in blue skies. Sweet air. Flowers and greenery beautiful and lush wind between crevices of granite, unknowing that their way had been encumbered at all. Just being beautiful.
Monday, May 25, 2015
Happy Memorial Day 2015
I want to talk to you, but that would be "uncool", premature.
My seeking heart seeks, but I must let it wander on its own. Embracing, letting go. I enjoy the "now" (no real single moment but fluid), because dammit, the "now" is truly good.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Peaches
Am I okay? A strong heart, a set visage, a directed thought to move on...
Underscored by a constant low level anxiety, clutching within a deep place left of center....rising up in moments by both that which is happy... And infinitely sad.
Am I insane? I no longer know, it seems, how the puzzle pieces might fit in harmony. Prior life defined by the rules and regs of keeping us safe, growing, forward...no longer exists but then, I know anxiety of a different kind resided within my head then too.
So perhaps I've never known what it is to feel grounded, that place I have always sought. Its not that I want life spelled out for me, no not at all. What a bore that would be... I like the possibility of different,,,certainly...or better...
Uncensored joy is what I seek, in my heart, in the heart of those. I love. I have joy
I was told that:
"Change is not lacking"
"Change lets you progress forward"
But then why does it not feel that way? The feeling of being a loser, the one who is indeed lacking is very strong today.
I don't understand why some men feel it okay to treat me in a disregarded way, when they first appear interested. I hear HIS voice again, "yes you seem nice, but underneath you are still just you." And the feeling of devastation, shame, and heartbreak feels renewed. I know this is not the story of anyone else's but my own, at this moment. Perhaps this is for me to believe and not just know, my worth seems a bit hollow, even now.
The fit is important and to seek any connection simply for the sake of having one will be detrimental to me. I don't want that anymore. But what I seek is not coming forward, nor do I seem to be able to find it.
I don't know what the answer is, unless the great karmic answer to my prayer is "NO". But I know that while I await a change for the breeze that flows onto my face, into my soul that brings the replenishment of kinship, I must cradle myself in the loving kindness that is essential to my survival. To my happiness of self fulfillment.
I must not judge myself harshly in the way that has been familiar for way too long. And even if the actions of others succeed to make me feel badly, I must try hard, with deep resolve (!), to not allow myself bring that back to that all too familiar feeling of shame of who I am, along with the feeling of cruel self-reproach and disdain that comes slamming along with it.
Must try, try, try....
Underscored by a constant low level anxiety, clutching within a deep place left of center....rising up in moments by both that which is happy... And infinitely sad.
Am I insane? I no longer know, it seems, how the puzzle pieces might fit in harmony. Prior life defined by the rules and regs of keeping us safe, growing, forward...no longer exists but then, I know anxiety of a different kind resided within my head then too.
So perhaps I've never known what it is to feel grounded, that place I have always sought. Its not that I want life spelled out for me, no not at all. What a bore that would be... I like the possibility of different,,,certainly...or better...
Uncensored joy is what I seek, in my heart, in the heart of those. I love. I have joy
I was told that:
"Change is not lacking"
"Change lets you progress forward"
But then why does it not feel that way? The feeling of being a loser, the one who is indeed lacking is very strong today.
I don't understand why some men feel it okay to treat me in a disregarded way, when they first appear interested. I hear HIS voice again, "yes you seem nice, but underneath you are still just you." And the feeling of devastation, shame, and heartbreak feels renewed. I know this is not the story of anyone else's but my own, at this moment. Perhaps this is for me to believe and not just know, my worth seems a bit hollow, even now.
The fit is important and to seek any connection simply for the sake of having one will be detrimental to me. I don't want that anymore. But what I seek is not coming forward, nor do I seem to be able to find it.
I don't know what the answer is, unless the great karmic answer to my prayer is "NO". But I know that while I await a change for the breeze that flows onto my face, into my soul that brings the replenishment of kinship, I must cradle myself in the loving kindness that is essential to my survival. To my happiness of self fulfillment.
I must not judge myself harshly in the way that has been familiar for way too long. And even if the actions of others succeed to make me feel badly, I must try hard, with deep resolve (!), to not allow myself bring that back to that all too familiar feeling of shame of who I am, along with the feeling of cruel self-reproach and disdain that comes slamming along with it.
Must try, try, try....
Monday, May 11, 2015
Finding peace: en deux parties
I have been thinking about my need in "finding peace", I've written about it before. But until now, I did not appreciate the impermanence of thought that "peace" provides. I have learned that nothing is permanent -a thought truly offered in a non-pessimistic spirit. But finding peace, I kept thinking was a solid form, a coalesced concept on which I needed to strive for. But I was wrong.
Every cell death makes way for cell renewal, and this is apparently my time. But in this case, I realize that shedding the miasma of my previous experiences is like shedding my skin; snake-like in a casing that used to resemble me but always seems to give way to another layer of "somethin' somethin'".
I realize that generally speaking, I talk a good game. I know what I should be feeling. I know the talk of healing, balance and joy. Yet the truth is, I know nothing beyond that which resides past the end of my nose (if that).
But lately, only just lately, and after numerous situations where I have "dated" different men (ALL platonically, mind you)...I am becoming less and less afraid about the idea of when I am alone. Its not a state I wish for, nor even aspire to, since my dream is to authentically partner up again someday- having experienced what a nice existence that can be (when things are good, of course).
But I have also learned to hold firm my conviction to avoid the "pick-me dance" again. I am not pushing anyone to fit my mold, nor me theirs simply on the chance that I hope to find that special partnership. Life is about give and take, not force and mold..and I find that indeed I would rather move on than to hang on. There have been real tests of recent moments when I might have taken a different tact, as when I was younger. But I don't really want to anymore.
Finding peace is a dynamic process by which I am learning about who I am, and what it is that I need to attain that particular gold bar.
I do have wants; who knew? I have had my attractions (one way or the other).. But no relationship hence so far have yielded puzzle piece fits, and that is okay. In the wake of the panic that might have ensued in the past (I think??), I now have a toolset that lets me find my center, at least eventually. Exercise is a big one. Meditation. Reading, thinking, and yes..blogging.
But really the biggest thing is recognizing in that hiccup of a moment that exists between great sadness and anxiety and ...me, is the split second realization that I have been nurturing to: STOP, take a moment, and BE kind to myself.
It makes me want to cry.
I want to be kind to myself. I don't want the mean voices of those who have sauntered into my path to linger on. They are not welcome, though I know they don't care and will always hang on to some extent. They are a part of me, my lesson, my bane. In accepting those negatives, facing them, it feels better.
Life is filled with lessons, and though there are still so many for me to struggle through, as well as this one which will be my hovercraft..always there, jettisoning in when I am weak, or sad.. I am learning to try and pull out my strength. The boddhisattva. My spiritual warrior...she lives in me, and is growing stronger.
I write this sentiment in many forms over many entries because it is fundamental to my emotional growth. My survival to become the person I want to grow into. The kind one, grounded in what so many before have figured out.
Leaping into faith and the karmic collective. Facing fear. My fear.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Put it in the God Box
When you wake up and realize you are past 50 (or for me, 52) and divorced, and feel no one will ever want me.....
I need to remember that it is not my place to find all the answers in the world but to put those "insurmountables" into a box and hand it to God to handle. Put it in the God Box and let Him handle it, then importantly, remember to stop to listen to the messages.
"To own the pain but not to dwell in it." The pain must be witnessed, but not to let it stay. Christiane Northrup gives us that lesson- in her book, "Goddesses never age"; she makes me think.
So today, I will put it in my God Box.
And then, listen.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Crucial lessons of the b kind
I awake this morning to beautiful sunlight streaming through my window, yet also again to the resounding sound of "those" voices I struggle with almost everyday. The ones that say: "Who would want me, I'm ugly, I am fat, I am "different"."
I know the words are my low self esteem, and the fact that I am still alone; unable to find a suitable partner for my needs. That is not to say I have not put myself "out there", in a way I feel still maintained the respect for myself (read: no wild booty call flings). Many men have sent out "solicitations", only some have I felt a personal interest in pursuing (many I have not); yet all end in a non-progressive and slightly masochistic (it feels like) bend. Why is that?
As the song goes, am I looking for love in all the wrong places? Or could it be that it is not me, so many people looking seem alternately not ready to look, mismatched to my needs, or (worse for me, frankly) me to theirs. It just is.
Yet, of course, there is a little negative banter in my head that says, yes well look how "easily and quickly" the Ex found his "fianceé" and his "true love new beginning". Is it me? What is wrong with me ("you suck, you're controlling, you are just you")? It hurts, and in my heart, I know I still put too much weight in those unkindly offered words.
So the external factors are meeting up with my internal facets in a way that seems to present me with this regularly experienced dilemma. Why do I feel like I need someone at all; am I trying to force a cure to my broken or lonely heart, pathetic and desperate?
Nah, doesn't feel that way. Yes, my need to find partnership is there, I miss that and want that greatly. But not at the cost of my, or my kids', feeling of stability, safety, and self esteem. Importantly, I must acknowledge this as a real and valid need- for I realize that underneath it all, I feel guilt for feeling it. I want someone to love, and to love me. It helps to know I am not being unrealistic or desperate in my need because of the underlying sound of my Ex's voice (the one I still hear) patronizing, condescending, and letting me know he was sure I could find some poor sap to love me, probably someone he himself deemed undesirable (ie an ethnic guy of some sort). He is such an ass.
Maslow, a pretty renowned psychologist, stated that this was a basic need, the finding of love. His version talks about the two flavors of love: the "b" kind (and I wonder if b stood for "best") and the selfish love kind. The former, he wrote as the higher form of love, predominantly embraced by those lucky self-actualized people who have presumably figured it all out. In contrast, the selfish, "me" kind is given as a kind of masturbatory exercise to fulfill a quicker kind of itch; scratch me and then its done. He also lets us know that the majority of us poor bastards really love in a crosshatch of the two kinds.
I get it, in a way. The "b" kind is one that most parents know; it is limitless and filled with the sense that whatever your kid needs, you would gladly give it even if it was in lieu of filling your own wants. The concept of embracing this in a love partnership sounds a bit dangerous, certainly if it were to be one-sided. But if offered in a two sided manner..well, that is interesting.
I guess I need to address the guilt of feeling this need for love. It is a valid need and different from that provided for by my resounding (and mutual) love for my children. They are a blessing, it is true, but not, certainly, to be a replacement for romantic love (though I know many people prefer to just focus on that, and only that). I feel a need for more, and a willingness to open myself up for it.
Yet also providing a source of recent discomfort, is the friendship I have recently tendered with a man that I like, find attractive, and was interested in pursuing a deeper relationship with. Unfortunately, he is not interested in pursuing any kind of relationship except one that is platonic, albeit a regularly meeting one. It is his path, and I guess the notation in my confused brain seeking validation of any kind (sadly) is that he finds me "fulfilling" enough to be around. Valid, though for what, I have no real idea. I am a sounding board for his current state of affairs (going through divorce, finding a new, if not unconventional vocation, talking about his kids/exwife-to-be, etc), and to a much lesser extent, he is one for me. He doesn't seem as interested in my needs, concerns, wants, though he is very pleasant and kind. Fun to talk to because his personality is non-judgmental and easygoing. For me, that does scratch a need- because aggressive behavior is one I run from now. Yet I must also be aware that the laid back personality I find so appealing must not be confused for the uninterested, disconnected, or generally inattentive behavior that was also hallmark to my previous relationship. In other words, I don't want to make a repeated mistake in any new relationship- it triggers a feeling of codependence in me that I no longer wish to ever exercise.
Is that is what is going on here with this new guy? I do not think so, though it doesn't make the frustration any less; wanting someone to be interested in you in a way that he is not..is really frustrating. So my first instinct says to pull back, and remove myself from a situation that promises to be hurtful if I let it proceed. My codependent, doesn't want to be alone, ego wishes to ignore that. But even that is an oversimplification. I just genuinely like the guy. So hanging out for now, watching sports and listening to a new perspective is fun. And that, I realize, is okay too. Overthinking things has always been my weakness, and I am forcing myself out of that comfort zone. In any case, it is absolutely obvious that one action is painstakingly necessary to invoke: I must be kind to myself.
AUTHENTICALLY, UNALTERABLY, KIND TO MYSELF. SELF LOVE OF THE B KIND. It is my path to learn and carry out this lesson.
I know the words are my low self esteem, and the fact that I am still alone; unable to find a suitable partner for my needs. That is not to say I have not put myself "out there", in a way I feel still maintained the respect for myself (read: no wild booty call flings). Many men have sent out "solicitations", only some have I felt a personal interest in pursuing (many I have not); yet all end in a non-progressive and slightly masochistic (it feels like) bend. Why is that?
As the song goes, am I looking for love in all the wrong places? Or could it be that it is not me, so many people looking seem alternately not ready to look, mismatched to my needs, or (worse for me, frankly) me to theirs. It just is.
Yet, of course, there is a little negative banter in my head that says, yes well look how "easily and quickly" the Ex found his "fianceé" and his "true love new beginning". Is it me? What is wrong with me ("you suck, you're controlling, you are just you")? It hurts, and in my heart, I know I still put too much weight in those unkindly offered words.
So the external factors are meeting up with my internal facets in a way that seems to present me with this regularly experienced dilemma. Why do I feel like I need someone at all; am I trying to force a cure to my broken or lonely heart, pathetic and desperate?
Nah, doesn't feel that way. Yes, my need to find partnership is there, I miss that and want that greatly. But not at the cost of my, or my kids', feeling of stability, safety, and self esteem. Importantly, I must acknowledge this as a real and valid need- for I realize that underneath it all, I feel guilt for feeling it. I want someone to love, and to love me. It helps to know I am not being unrealistic or desperate in my need because of the underlying sound of my Ex's voice (the one I still hear) patronizing, condescending, and letting me know he was sure I could find some poor sap to love me, probably someone he himself deemed undesirable (ie an ethnic guy of some sort). He is such an ass.
Maslow, a pretty renowned psychologist, stated that this was a basic need, the finding of love. His version talks about the two flavors of love: the "b" kind (and I wonder if b stood for "best") and the selfish love kind. The former, he wrote as the higher form of love, predominantly embraced by those lucky self-actualized people who have presumably figured it all out. In contrast, the selfish, "me" kind is given as a kind of masturbatory exercise to fulfill a quicker kind of itch; scratch me and then its done. He also lets us know that the majority of us poor bastards really love in a crosshatch of the two kinds.
I get it, in a way. The "b" kind is one that most parents know; it is limitless and filled with the sense that whatever your kid needs, you would gladly give it even if it was in lieu of filling your own wants. The concept of embracing this in a love partnership sounds a bit dangerous, certainly if it were to be one-sided. But if offered in a two sided manner..well, that is interesting.
I guess I need to address the guilt of feeling this need for love. It is a valid need and different from that provided for by my resounding (and mutual) love for my children. They are a blessing, it is true, but not, certainly, to be a replacement for romantic love (though I know many people prefer to just focus on that, and only that). I feel a need for more, and a willingness to open myself up for it.
Yet also providing a source of recent discomfort, is the friendship I have recently tendered with a man that I like, find attractive, and was interested in pursuing a deeper relationship with. Unfortunately, he is not interested in pursuing any kind of relationship except one that is platonic, albeit a regularly meeting one. It is his path, and I guess the notation in my confused brain seeking validation of any kind (sadly) is that he finds me "fulfilling" enough to be around. Valid, though for what, I have no real idea. I am a sounding board for his current state of affairs (going through divorce, finding a new, if not unconventional vocation, talking about his kids/exwife-to-be, etc), and to a much lesser extent, he is one for me. He doesn't seem as interested in my needs, concerns, wants, though he is very pleasant and kind. Fun to talk to because his personality is non-judgmental and easygoing. For me, that does scratch a need- because aggressive behavior is one I run from now. Yet I must also be aware that the laid back personality I find so appealing must not be confused for the uninterested, disconnected, or generally inattentive behavior that was also hallmark to my previous relationship. In other words, I don't want to make a repeated mistake in any new relationship- it triggers a feeling of codependence in me that I no longer wish to ever exercise.
Is that is what is going on here with this new guy? I do not think so, though it doesn't make the frustration any less; wanting someone to be interested in you in a way that he is not..is really frustrating. So my first instinct says to pull back, and remove myself from a situation that promises to be hurtful if I let it proceed. My codependent, doesn't want to be alone, ego wishes to ignore that. But even that is an oversimplification. I just genuinely like the guy. So hanging out for now, watching sports and listening to a new perspective is fun. And that, I realize, is okay too. Overthinking things has always been my weakness, and I am forcing myself out of that comfort zone. In any case, it is absolutely obvious that one action is painstakingly necessary to invoke: I must be kind to myself.
AUTHENTICALLY, UNALTERABLY, KIND TO MYSELF. SELF LOVE OF THE B KIND. It is my path to learn and carry out this lesson.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Footwear
Sitting on the train going into the city, I am struck by how well my mind seems to function first thing (after a couple of cups of coffee, of course). The clarity of thought is temporary before the many events and responsibilities of my day push in and confuses my early am radar focus.
But for now, things are pretty clear. I feel strong today. The weather is beautiful, and I am chugging into an "upper management" meeting though I am not u.m. I like what I do, I feel like I am accomplishing something important, it makes a difference I think in a tiny microcosm kind of way. I have two large empty poster tubes straddled between my thighs, because I am schlepping into Harlem later to do one more chore, one more thing. But it oddly feels "cool" to do so, even though I know it is so NOT.
I guess the thing is, I am finding my identity; the thing that states in ten words or less who I am when I meet someone for the first time. Its a daunting task for anyone. Who am I ? Or more importantly, who do I want to be? The answer keeps changing, and is currently underscored with a sense of dynamic change.
I am at my job now for two and a half years. I am progressing at a clip. I feel comfortable, though filled with the prototypical angst that I will carry with me into any position I care about (will I measure up, will I do the right thing, will I not fuck up). Sheryl Sandberg says "lean in", so I am trying in a way that I can feel comfortable in, yet pushed to test my courage. It is interesting.
I am feeling what it is like to walk in my shoes. Not the one filled by the mother that I am (those I know well, they are comfortable and well loved- I know this). Not the daughter shoes, my parents are gone these many years now. Not the wife clogs that made me stomp around, doing what I needed to do for my ex, for my family, for US.
The shoes I wear now are lighter, with a more tenuous yet flexible sole. I like them though am afraid I might trip and twist my ankles. What will happen then? The woman I am, her voice is rising to tell me what will happen, and even more importantly what it is that I want to have happen.
This woman and I have been chatting over our coffee times, sitting with our Ipad to scratch out my own thoughts, to-do lists, needs assessment. We have figured out that I am often too hard on myself, and it is not a good thing for me or anyone around me. That has to stop as best I can, for angry and low self esteem Sybil does no one any good. I also know that I am a loving person, filled with a tendency to want and need strong attachments to people I love and respect. And I need that returned, in an authentic and even keeled way. I must remember not to sell myself short in my desire for that valid goal, no more pick me pick me!! It is a good thing, an active process. Letting myself grow into that is a tediously slow process, I must be patient.
I have also been talking to my CFO, me. We set up a board meeting with all of the other "me's" and determined after a cost base analysis that DEBT sucks, and puts ALL of us in fear of our lives. So CFO has put her foot down amd stated all debt must go before all else, save for retirement, health, and emergency cushion growths. It is fair, given that I do not anticipate that it will really take that long to do (I hope!). Moving on because my goals and objectives remain the same.
So there you have it. My train is just rolling through the tunnel just as my full mental assessment comes to a close. Bucket list comes next.
*****
Addendum: "Fun" me showed up late to the meeting and demanded that we still acknowledge, in a responsible way, debt allocations that still accommodate relaxing but occasional downtime at Starbucks, martinis with friends, and the occasional extremely cute shoe purchase. In full validation of all of me, we unanimously voted to do so on a reasonable basis, lest all work and no...well makes things boring.
***************
Its even later in the day, kids asleep: Feeling...
like I would like to talk, to a person that cared about me, a guy who pulled me into his tribe the way I would pull him into mine. Into his arms, into his life. A feeling of ease is pleasant, with no preconceptions, slate wiped clean; pristine. The saying of "if I knew then what I know now" doesn't apply because it IS the now, opportunity rises up to meet what I know.
Hugs, desire, laughter, trust.
Honesty, warmth, kindness, mutual respect. A moshpit filled with colors that are dynamic, moving, coasting into the ocean, the salty smell and sound of waves crashing..feeling real, hard, exciting.
I feel it as much as I feel the fear of "what ifs"; what if never, what if the again happens, what if. But then that feeling allays in lieu of want, and frankly, inner peace. Patience, openness to new things, balance. Sleep.
But for now, things are pretty clear. I feel strong today. The weather is beautiful, and I am chugging into an "upper management" meeting though I am not u.m. I like what I do, I feel like I am accomplishing something important, it makes a difference I think in a tiny microcosm kind of way. I have two large empty poster tubes straddled between my thighs, because I am schlepping into Harlem later to do one more chore, one more thing. But it oddly feels "cool" to do so, even though I know it is so NOT.
I guess the thing is, I am finding my identity; the thing that states in ten words or less who I am when I meet someone for the first time. Its a daunting task for anyone. Who am I ? Or more importantly, who do I want to be? The answer keeps changing, and is currently underscored with a sense of dynamic change.
I am at my job now for two and a half years. I am progressing at a clip. I feel comfortable, though filled with the prototypical angst that I will carry with me into any position I care about (will I measure up, will I do the right thing, will I not fuck up). Sheryl Sandberg says "lean in", so I am trying in a way that I can feel comfortable in, yet pushed to test my courage. It is interesting.
I am feeling what it is like to walk in my shoes. Not the one filled by the mother that I am (those I know well, they are comfortable and well loved- I know this). Not the daughter shoes, my parents are gone these many years now. Not the wife clogs that made me stomp around, doing what I needed to do for my ex, for my family, for US.
The shoes I wear now are lighter, with a more tenuous yet flexible sole. I like them though am afraid I might trip and twist my ankles. What will happen then? The woman I am, her voice is rising to tell me what will happen, and even more importantly what it is that I want to have happen.
This woman and I have been chatting over our coffee times, sitting with our Ipad to scratch out my own thoughts, to-do lists, needs assessment. We have figured out that I am often too hard on myself, and it is not a good thing for me or anyone around me. That has to stop as best I can, for angry and low self esteem Sybil does no one any good. I also know that I am a loving person, filled with a tendency to want and need strong attachments to people I love and respect. And I need that returned, in an authentic and even keeled way. I must remember not to sell myself short in my desire for that valid goal, no more pick me pick me!! It is a good thing, an active process. Letting myself grow into that is a tediously slow process, I must be patient.
I have also been talking to my CFO, me. We set up a board meeting with all of the other "me's" and determined after a cost base analysis that DEBT sucks, and puts ALL of us in fear of our lives. So CFO has put her foot down amd stated all debt must go before all else, save for retirement, health, and emergency cushion growths. It is fair, given that I do not anticipate that it will really take that long to do (I hope!). Moving on because my goals and objectives remain the same.
So there you have it. My train is just rolling through the tunnel just as my full mental assessment comes to a close. Bucket list comes next.
*****
Addendum: "Fun" me showed up late to the meeting and demanded that we still acknowledge, in a responsible way, debt allocations that still accommodate relaxing but occasional downtime at Starbucks, martinis with friends, and the occasional extremely cute shoe purchase. In full validation of all of me, we unanimously voted to do so on a reasonable basis, lest all work and no...well makes things boring.
***************
Its even later in the day, kids asleep: Feeling...
like I would like to talk, to a person that cared about me, a guy who pulled me into his tribe the way I would pull him into mine. Into his arms, into his life. A feeling of ease is pleasant, with no preconceptions, slate wiped clean; pristine. The saying of "if I knew then what I know now" doesn't apply because it IS the now, opportunity rises up to meet what I know.
Hugs, desire, laughter, trust.
Honesty, warmth, kindness, mutual respect. A moshpit filled with colors that are dynamic, moving, coasting into the ocean, the salty smell and sound of waves crashing..feeling real, hard, exciting.
I feel it as much as I feel the fear of "what ifs"; what if never, what if the again happens, what if. But then that feeling allays in lieu of want, and frankly, inner peace. Patience, openness to new things, balance. Sleep.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
I am a feminist. Apparently.
The connotation nowadays seems to be smeared with sticky,
icky feelings. The generation has now
reached a point, where it seems many of us don’t remember what it means to
really be crap not because of something we did, but because of something we are.
Can we get any more personal than that?
So when I say I am a feminist, it really means to me that I
am saying that I don’t want to be pre-judged by the fact that I am a
woman. Or for that matter, by my
ethnicity.
I am of Japanese heritage..although whatever the Hell
that means I am sure I don’t know. I
grew up in an all-white, middle suburban Christian neighborhood, and now live
in a predominantly all-white (with large smatterings of Persian) Christian and
Jews…so my ethnic identity is fakakta, to say the least. It’s not like I am trying to be something I’m
not..but really..how do people expect me to be “ASIAN” and all that that image
might represent to those of us who have been privy to the stereotypes (usually
unflattering) when my cultural identity seems more firmly ensconced in educated
white middle class girl. Yup..say it
proudly. WTF. It’s with a sense of humor that I have given
up on trying to figure out what I am because in the end, like Popye says, “IYAMWHATIYAM”
(or was that God’s quote in the Bible??)
It’s just that when other people keep insisting they know
me, I have to wonder. Who the F**k are you, and why do you think you know
anything about me??
In truth, I guess, I am really not different from other
people though. In trying to make sense
of a world that often has none, I (just like everyone) try to grab hold of
those facilitory guides that might give me a clue as to what people will do,
what they will say, and whether they might hurt me. So I guess my take is that, as a feminist, I
better be a tolerant one..So let me remember please…that extra layer of me, now
has an identified peel of pragmatic feminism
growing on me. I will be who I
am. I will be a proud and independent
woman (even if some days I still come home to cry and look for my mommy).
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Stories from the sidelines: Divorce chronicles #1
It may be inexquisitely trite to say this but:
I know what love is.
I was married for 25 years, at least as the crow flies, from the moment we committed to our lifelong love to the very moment the court judge scrawled her signature to our divorce decree. But by many people's interpretation, they might say this fact is validation of an abysmal failure, DIVORCE.
I felt this for a long time. Failure. Loss. Abject devastation. All CHECKED, as easily as I now could check the "separated/divorced" box on so many forms. This ticked item, coexisting with the alarming fact I could also check the "50 and above" age box, has essentially served to facilitate how people (myself included) could now identify me as to who I was now.
I walk in the path of many...but does that mean I am one of the faceless crowds of divorcees, huddling together in a proverbial cold spell of bitterness, fear, and loneliness? Not. Well, at least not on a regular day, thank you very much. While I will own to some of these feelings on occasion (most often, frankly, the last)... I, along with so many others of my "ilk", have found that it actually is okay to be divorced. Or in my case, to be "that woman".
No, I m not without financial problems (of the "squeezing my genitals 'til it hurts" variety), nor blithely co-existing without problems from/with my ex. Those issues still glide along as predictably as death and taxes. However, this tide of negativity is one that I understand would flow in no matter what my reality was like- ask anyone. Life is typically filled with trauma, angst, and the "ubiquitous anxiety" my heroine in life, Pema Chodron, speaks about so often. Yes, this really sucks.
Importantly, and this is a big one: the tide of good things roll in as well, no matter who you are. It is the push of life. The reason why newborn babies are so cute, after having to squeeze them out through a tiny passage of "OWWW!" Why, at the end of a limp hamburger and fries, we are treated to the "happy meal toy" of life...even me, and I don't eat meat these days. Its the perennial struggle of Darth Vader meets Skywalker (and all the family dysfunction that might imply), and truthfully why we must embrace life.
One truth, one axiom reigns supreme: I never, ever take life for granted anymore; it is a blessing to embrace regardless.
If for no other reason, I write this blog to remind myself that this tide of life is the POINT; if you get it, then being pulled down by the undertow is less likely. Even better, it makes it oh so much easier to taste the sweetness of when the good, the funny, the passionate bops in.... And I want to be open to notice it!
I know what love is.
I was married for 25 years, at least as the crow flies, from the moment we committed to our lifelong love to the very moment the court judge scrawled her signature to our divorce decree. But by many people's interpretation, they might say this fact is validation of an abysmal failure, DIVORCE.
I felt this for a long time. Failure. Loss. Abject devastation. All CHECKED, as easily as I now could check the "separated/divorced" box on so many forms. This ticked item, coexisting with the alarming fact I could also check the "50 and above" age box, has essentially served to facilitate how people (myself included) could now identify me as to who I was now.
I walk in the path of many...but does that mean I am one of the faceless crowds of divorcees, huddling together in a proverbial cold spell of bitterness, fear, and loneliness? Not. Well, at least not on a regular day, thank you very much. While I will own to some of these feelings on occasion (most often, frankly, the last)... I, along with so many others of my "ilk", have found that it actually is okay to be divorced. Or in my case, to be "that woman".
No, I m not without financial problems (of the "squeezing my genitals 'til it hurts" variety), nor blithely co-existing without problems from/with my ex. Those issues still glide along as predictably as death and taxes. However, this tide of negativity is one that I understand would flow in no matter what my reality was like- ask anyone. Life is typically filled with trauma, angst, and the "ubiquitous anxiety" my heroine in life, Pema Chodron, speaks about so often. Yes, this really sucks.
Importantly, and this is a big one: the tide of good things roll in as well, no matter who you are. It is the push of life. The reason why newborn babies are so cute, after having to squeeze them out through a tiny passage of "OWWW!" Why, at the end of a limp hamburger and fries, we are treated to the "happy meal toy" of life...even me, and I don't eat meat these days. Its the perennial struggle of Darth Vader meets Skywalker (and all the family dysfunction that might imply), and truthfully why we must embrace life.
One truth, one axiom reigns supreme: I never, ever take life for granted anymore; it is a blessing to embrace regardless.
If for no other reason, I write this blog to remind myself that this tide of life is the POINT; if you get it, then being pulled down by the undertow is less likely. Even better, it makes it oh so much easier to taste the sweetness of when the good, the funny, the passionate bops in.... And I want to be open to notice it!
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Facing the fear
Another day....
Its Easter. I hear the litany; Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will rise again.
I am curled up in a fetal position, curled within a faux fur blanket. The sadness feels palpable, like a bellyache that one could press on, its a spot that elicits a dull ache.
But the ache is in my heart. I feel sadness today. I shouldn't, my kids have just arrived home and are not due to go back for five more hours. Then why am I sad, feeling an oppressive weight sitting on my chest like a fat cold weight. It presses hard. "Does this hurt?" Yes, yes it does.
I saw her name come up on my Facebook link asking if I want to "befriend" her. No, no thank you. And I notice, oh look she has dropped her married hyphenated name. Off to new "beginnings" with Ex, having peeked at her Facebook page. I don't know why, it hurt me seeing this. A smugness in her page, it lies upon the acid washed bones of my sadness. On the discomfort of my children. On an unreal reality.
The feeling is that of being left behind and discarded, yet I am actually okay with that. I don't want him anymore. But I also don't want to be alone anymore, without a partner to call my own. No connection, no one to rely on or to be relied upon. It seems trite, being the woman left behind, the ex-wife.
He is taking our kids with this new woman, his new fiance, and her son, to an expensive resort that we had frequently gone to. I am financially strapped, no plans for a vacation for me or the kids. So I guess it is good they go with him.
But I feel like a loser, tonight.
It came on like a virus, after watching a romantic video on Facebook posted by a stranger; a young man who had posted an elaborate video of how he planned on proposing to his fiance, a beautiful young woman. It was sweet, but it made me start wondering if any one would ever love me that way again, if he had at all. It seems like an impossibility, for me to be truly loved by someone I could love as equally.
I saw yesterday again, he had posted a $220 charge on our old joint credit card on a stupid bauble meant for her. I need not know this but I do. I awaken to this strange reality, an amnesiac having awakened from their coma after so many years. How did this happen? I know it is good, that it did.. But what is there for me now? Where shall my life bring me?
Smirk perk lurk. I curl in deeper.
Its Easter. I hear the litany; Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will rise again.
I am curled up in a fetal position, curled within a faux fur blanket. The sadness feels palpable, like a bellyache that one could press on, its a spot that elicits a dull ache.
But the ache is in my heart. I feel sadness today. I shouldn't, my kids have just arrived home and are not due to go back for five more hours. Then why am I sad, feeling an oppressive weight sitting on my chest like a fat cold weight. It presses hard. "Does this hurt?" Yes, yes it does.
I saw her name come up on my Facebook link asking if I want to "befriend" her. No, no thank you. And I notice, oh look she has dropped her married hyphenated name. Off to new "beginnings" with Ex, having peeked at her Facebook page. I don't know why, it hurt me seeing this. A smugness in her page, it lies upon the acid washed bones of my sadness. On the discomfort of my children. On an unreal reality.
The feeling is that of being left behind and discarded, yet I am actually okay with that. I don't want him anymore. But I also don't want to be alone anymore, without a partner to call my own. No connection, no one to rely on or to be relied upon. It seems trite, being the woman left behind, the ex-wife.
He is taking our kids with this new woman, his new fiance, and her son, to an expensive resort that we had frequently gone to. I am financially strapped, no plans for a vacation for me or the kids. So I guess it is good they go with him.
But I feel like a loser, tonight.
It came on like a virus, after watching a romantic video on Facebook posted by a stranger; a young man who had posted an elaborate video of how he planned on proposing to his fiance, a beautiful young woman. It was sweet, but it made me start wondering if any one would ever love me that way again, if he had at all. It seems like an impossibility, for me to be truly loved by someone I could love as equally.
I saw yesterday again, he had posted a $220 charge on our old joint credit card on a stupid bauble meant for her. I need not know this but I do. I awaken to this strange reality, an amnesiac having awakened from their coma after so many years. How did this happen? I know it is good, that it did.. But what is there for me now? Where shall my life bring me?
Smirk perk lurk. I curl in deeper.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Alone
These days i have been walking around with a veritable smirk on my face. Smirk perk, lurk...it seems like part of me has awakened in a weird latent gene expression kind of way. I sit by myself more now, no longer feeling like I'm a loser as much as someone sitting in a moment of solace. I LIKE it, unbelievably as I sip my chai in Starbucks, tapping away on my Ipad. Alone.
It used to be a word that was synonymous with disaster in my mind. Abject loneliness. LOSER. Alone, so worthless. Why that was, I don't know. Perhaps some Freudian probe could define why some people feel more sensitive to it than others, though some have told me everyone feels this way. I don't believe it. Some lucky bastards, I believe are truly more at ease with the idea of being in singletude. And I think, in some ways I may actually be becoming one.
Full disclosure: The feeling of wanting more is still there. That guy, that connection...I feel it, want it, smell it so close in an odd way. A way that is familiar in that visceral sense that animals might smell each other's pheromones, or perhaps as when you first smell your very own newborn baby. Recognition. I know it now, but am taking my time in savoring it. Easing into a sense of...EASE, without letting me slip into that fear of what ifs...want me, need me...it could still be there but I don't want that monster grasp hold of me again, like a bad cocaine addiction or unhealthy masochistic want. No, I'll sip my chai and let the moment steep into what it is, what it feels..and let it feel good.
I hope that this sense is right, to be truthful, I don't really know. Will I meet that guy who will truly connect with me, love me in the way I need for ever more? And I them? I hope so. My Meyers Briggs personality test suggests its what I need; my ENFJ wanting that special introverted diplomat, apparently. But that is conjecture. I have learned there are no sure things. And I guess, would we really want that anyway?
(Okay, yes. But it ain't gonna happen)....karma baby.
It used to be a word that was synonymous with disaster in my mind. Abject loneliness. LOSER. Alone, so worthless. Why that was, I don't know. Perhaps some Freudian probe could define why some people feel more sensitive to it than others, though some have told me everyone feels this way. I don't believe it. Some lucky bastards, I believe are truly more at ease with the idea of being in singletude. And I think, in some ways I may actually be becoming one.
Full disclosure: The feeling of wanting more is still there. That guy, that connection...I feel it, want it, smell it so close in an odd way. A way that is familiar in that visceral sense that animals might smell each other's pheromones, or perhaps as when you first smell your very own newborn baby. Recognition. I know it now, but am taking my time in savoring it. Easing into a sense of...EASE, without letting me slip into that fear of what ifs...want me, need me...it could still be there but I don't want that monster grasp hold of me again, like a bad cocaine addiction or unhealthy masochistic want. No, I'll sip my chai and let the moment steep into what it is, what it feels..and let it feel good.
I hope that this sense is right, to be truthful, I don't really know. Will I meet that guy who will truly connect with me, love me in the way I need for ever more? And I them? I hope so. My Meyers Briggs personality test suggests its what I need; my ENFJ wanting that special introverted diplomat, apparently. But that is conjecture. I have learned there are no sure things. And I guess, would we really want that anyway?
(Okay, yes. But it ain't gonna happen)....karma baby.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Happiness
It is the wave of happiness and joy I feel today, and a quick shout out among my many diatribes to acknowledge, that yes, it does happen. Joy. Feeling of empowerment that has nothing to do with anyone but myself. Joy. And strength, in this moment of time. I suck in the feeling with all that I can muster. Smiling.
Monday, March 23, 2015
Spring 2015
It is now Spring, and there is an odd promise in the air,
but of what that promise is-- I have no idea.
I would like to be all dreamy and say it is of the promise
of love and unbidden, limitless passion..but can I ever believe this to be
again? And then again, do I really want
that? No, I don’t think so for my jaded perceptions of
life have garnished my views with some cynicism (til death do us part). It’s a mannequin sitting in my lap, my hand
shoved deep inside the lapel of the cheap velvet suit of this doll.
I know my life holds renewal; in a karmic laden embodiment
that ensures there will be happiness. It
is for this that I wait. And in the same
breath, I know sadness will always come too because that is how life flows for
us all. It is the tipping point into
sweet joy that I am going to strive for.
Balance with counterweight swaying towards the positive, a Buddhist view
to embrace.
I don’t know if I can pull it off. The messages of my past lives under my skin
like an underlayment of subcutaneous “ick”.
Is this my path, to constantly work to keep those feelings in check, the
sense that I am never meant to have true love in my life? I am a fake, a fraud in this version of my
unkind self.
Yet…. Joy, yes, I
feel this. Peace too, in a form that I
never thought I would experience again back in 2009. Many tell me that all
people feel this ubiquitous ennui, but I am not sure if that is true. Do we all
feel a sense of “not measuring up”? And
if we do, why does it express itself in so many different ways? I feel the child in my mind’s eye, asking and
searching for the answer of why are people so mean? My adult “mind” steps in to caution this
child to never mind, never mind but protect with the healthy boundaries that
should have been put into place long ago.
The boundaries that help me navigate the now, in a way I never have
before. And it’s scary, but true. A patent plan of action meant to preserve my
safety and sanity. I am a bundle of
conflicting emotions.
I am Eve, aware that I am covered with leaves and standing
in a garden of thorns and flowers. I don’t
fear the prickles (I know them), but
for some reason, I feel terror when thinking about smelling the blooms. I am alone, but am wondering if that is what
I am meant to be. To face that fear and
discover it is not a nightmare. I don’t
know. But I wait. And balance.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Pathos in the making
I had one of my dreams again. The intense kind, with that strange feeling of some internal messages being passed through, sitting in the steamy Indian tent under the influence of some strange peyote drug. My brain, the more likely candidate, is processing what is about to come.
It is my day in court. The one where I won't be back for a while (I hope). My lawyer tells me the court had made a decision, so I will know whether my Ex will have to pay what he owes me, have to follow the rules, etc.. And while I care...I don't care at the same time. It is like reading a dog-eared book that I've cried over, laughed over, obsessed over too many times. I'm done with it for now. But there is more. My dream tells me this.
As always, these dreams take place in the same venue, that of my childhood home. The "place" it might signify might be different (a hotel, a strangers home, etc.) but it is always my house from when I was a kid.
Tonight, it is HIS home, but for whatever reason it is mine on temporary basis too, having the children with me. I look and see the remnants of what "used to" belong to us, a picture, a statuette.. But it is shadows of the past, almost no emotional tie to them. The kids of my heart and currently the dream, wander about like usual, oblivious yet aware of happenings. They are okay.
Then I see Ex. As we walk up the stairs of this house, he is in his characteristically angry and irritated mood, expounding on what this person did, or what this environment has wrought to irritate him. As in the (real) past, that irritates me, and we bicker. I am then reminded; yes, this is what it was so often like. And I was feeling so done with that.. It is good.
Yet then we go inside and sit at a table. I look at him, and in his familiar visage I look at him, and remember- yes, but I do love you. And I wish you well, amazingly, despite all that has happened. Boundaries in place, my awake mind knows this, but it feels okay to say. Yes, after all this, it is a whispered yet real thought.
I ask him to please be mindful of the kids feelings. That even two years ago, our daughter asked if "Daddy had gotten married to his girlfriend", when clearly he could not- we were still married. It is almost funny now.
I feel sadness, yet am strangely at peace. It feels like an old story, one I have read countless times. But I am now starting to pick up a new novel, perhaps of a different genre. The story of a strong woman, like Sheryl Sandberg, open to all the possibilities of my life. Bring it on...
****
In court, my attorney tells me "he" won't budge. His attorney acknowledges he owes me money (easily $10k in child support), have spent much more on legal fees. I know I need my kids health bills paid. On time. No more delays for his amusement. So sad, how this story is constantly perverted. He doesn't pay medical bills, and I ask for what he owes me. He states he may owe me, but that I owe him too, for all his unreimbursed health premiums HE has paid over these last two years, conveniently omitting that he has never submitted the charges he expects to be reimbursed for. How can I pay, what I have not been billed (something that is, we now know, guesstimated to be about $2k). In the fun posturing that is now the anticipated, my lawyer talks about how this appears to be going to go to trial. I can not, he knows, afford an upcoming $30k court legal bill, that will likely never be reimbursed. I will have to let that go, and agree to let the kids medical bills continue under his plan even though he has not paid regularly (and there being an outstanding bill still, from last year)- and now won't.
I can only hope to recoup what he owes me, and some legal fees (the latter now to the tune of $18k). No choice, but to choose that let go. It is my responsibility now, he has relinquished that monetary responsibility so that I must. The bully in the street, he will learn that obstinance wins..again.
But his cost for the win, may be higher than the one I have to pay. I am done. I want to be free.
***
"Come on in ladies", the court officer calls in our two attorneys.
*******
Punka-punka-punka! My feet hit the treadmill as a Coldplay song blasts in my ear, an incessant beat to match the one pounding in my chest. Punka!
I should have known that no final conclusion would be forthcoming. A huge financial deficit with an outcome requesting for MORE information again, that which had largely been provided already. Expanding a legal bill already swollen and pussy. A small monetary relief coming my way, pales in comparison to that frustration.
My only physical respite was to leave for the gym, not wishing to be home. Alone. Kids gone to his house, melancholy ("I want to stay home!", wails one kid). Its fine, my heart has pulled back into my chest after a fast run, pulling out all the madness, angst. I decompress in a follow up session to my neighborhood coffee shop, and pretend I know the right path to follow. Or is that the right pathos? I don't know...
It is my day in court. The one where I won't be back for a while (I hope). My lawyer tells me the court had made a decision, so I will know whether my Ex will have to pay what he owes me, have to follow the rules, etc.. And while I care...I don't care at the same time. It is like reading a dog-eared book that I've cried over, laughed over, obsessed over too many times. I'm done with it for now. But there is more. My dream tells me this.
As always, these dreams take place in the same venue, that of my childhood home. The "place" it might signify might be different (a hotel, a strangers home, etc.) but it is always my house from when I was a kid.
Tonight, it is HIS home, but for whatever reason it is mine on temporary basis too, having the children with me. I look and see the remnants of what "used to" belong to us, a picture, a statuette.. But it is shadows of the past, almost no emotional tie to them. The kids of my heart and currently the dream, wander about like usual, oblivious yet aware of happenings. They are okay.
Then I see Ex. As we walk up the stairs of this house, he is in his characteristically angry and irritated mood, expounding on what this person did, or what this environment has wrought to irritate him. As in the (real) past, that irritates me, and we bicker. I am then reminded; yes, this is what it was so often like. And I was feeling so done with that.. It is good.
Yet then we go inside and sit at a table. I look at him, and in his familiar visage I look at him, and remember- yes, but I do love you. And I wish you well, amazingly, despite all that has happened. Boundaries in place, my awake mind knows this, but it feels okay to say. Yes, after all this, it is a whispered yet real thought.
I ask him to please be mindful of the kids feelings. That even two years ago, our daughter asked if "Daddy had gotten married to his girlfriend", when clearly he could not- we were still married. It is almost funny now.
I feel sadness, yet am strangely at peace. It feels like an old story, one I have read countless times. But I am now starting to pick up a new novel, perhaps of a different genre. The story of a strong woman, like Sheryl Sandberg, open to all the possibilities of my life. Bring it on...
****
In court, my attorney tells me "he" won't budge. His attorney acknowledges he owes me money (easily $10k in child support), have spent much more on legal fees. I know I need my kids health bills paid. On time. No more delays for his amusement. So sad, how this story is constantly perverted. He doesn't pay medical bills, and I ask for what he owes me. He states he may owe me, but that I owe him too, for all his unreimbursed health premiums HE has paid over these last two years, conveniently omitting that he has never submitted the charges he expects to be reimbursed for. How can I pay, what I have not been billed (something that is, we now know, guesstimated to be about $2k). In the fun posturing that is now the anticipated, my lawyer talks about how this appears to be going to go to trial. I can not, he knows, afford an upcoming $30k court legal bill, that will likely never be reimbursed. I will have to let that go, and agree to let the kids medical bills continue under his plan even though he has not paid regularly (and there being an outstanding bill still, from last year)- and now won't.
I can only hope to recoup what he owes me, and some legal fees (the latter now to the tune of $18k). No choice, but to choose that let go. It is my responsibility now, he has relinquished that monetary responsibility so that I must. The bully in the street, he will learn that obstinance wins..again.
But his cost for the win, may be higher than the one I have to pay. I am done. I want to be free.
***
"Come on in ladies", the court officer calls in our two attorneys.
*******
Punka-punka-punka! My feet hit the treadmill as a Coldplay song blasts in my ear, an incessant beat to match the one pounding in my chest. Punka!
I should have known that no final conclusion would be forthcoming. A huge financial deficit with an outcome requesting for MORE information again, that which had largely been provided already. Expanding a legal bill already swollen and pussy. A small monetary relief coming my way, pales in comparison to that frustration.
My only physical respite was to leave for the gym, not wishing to be home. Alone. Kids gone to his house, melancholy ("I want to stay home!", wails one kid). Its fine, my heart has pulled back into my chest after a fast run, pulling out all the madness, angst. I decompress in a follow up session to my neighborhood coffee shop, and pretend I know the right path to follow. Or is that the right pathos? I don't know...
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