Thought Passages

For weeks, (months?), my body has been filled with tension, and has exhibited many of the various symptoms that stress uses to get our attention. Also the emotional me has been flitting about hyper-actively. None of which is really new for me. Except, of late, I am more aware of the ambiguous nature most of my thoughts follow. My over-analysis of self, my self-involvement, or self-absorption has been placed on hold...to the extent that one such as I can do so.

I don't know if it is a result of my time away from home, the mindf**kng encounters I had with soon-to-be-ex last weekend, or just the passing of time itself, but two things have occurred that I am now attempting to hold onto, very very tightly.

I am entering the acceptance phase, the "It's going to be OK." phase, of the grief process regarding my divorce, and, I woke up on Friday morning with, "I AM NOT GOING TO BE A VICTIM ANYMORE!!!" reverberating through my head. The words truly felt as if they were echoing within. They gave me such a feeling of strength. The next thought for me was,"Some may think I've become a Bitch, but I don't care, I refuse to lie tummy-up in my usual submissive pose, if those important to me wish to think I have become a bitch, then so be it!"

I am achanging. There are some things about this process I acknowledge, (1) I know reversing years of being mindf**ked years of beliefs is extremely difficult, but my core beliefs about myself and the world at large are still inside, hiding maybe, but they're there, (2) The rational side of me knows there will be times when my old (the last 33 years) way of thinking will take over again, (3) But, I want/wish/hope/need these new thought processes to take root in my rather dense brain and stay.

The time away from home/family/friends was good for me.

I spent hours and hours walking my first two days in Houston, hours that were much needed. Although gotta say...Houston is not a city designed for walking, at least not the portion of it I was in, I have a feeling most Houstoners (Houstonites?) drive even if only going a few short blocks. But the walks served their purpose, I finally found the bottles of wine I was searching for, not easy on a Sunday morning in Houston! More importantly, the tension had left my body, my mind was less fretful, I allowed myself no internalization of thought, if one attempted a landing in my mind, I would shew it away, to fly on the breeze like dandelion puff seedlings, telling them to go tickle someone else's brain for awhile. Doing so was important...it allowed me to loosen my focus in all other areas of my life...in fact I refused to focus on the past or the future... at times there was a lot of shewing going on... but, I accomplished my goal, in large part I stayed very much in the moment I was experiencing, and if thoughts of home/family/friends entered my head (I might make a call to soothe a worry), but, then I would let them loose as well.

On the Sunday evening I was away, I met a truly gorgeous man, who in the space of only a few brief moments seemed to see directly into me. "You need to open your heart, it's time, you've been closed off too long." There was more to our conversation, but those are the words that have stayed with me. He was someone I felt I was supposed to meet that day. His words and actions left me feeling beautiful, they fed my soul. As my days in Houston passed, there were several times the thought entered my mind to go back and thank him, but I never did. He had made it very plain to me he wished to spend more time with me by offering to take me to dinner that night, but I didn't take him up on his offer. There are many reasons why, all rather ambiguous in nature.


Passage: A movement from one place to another, as by going by, through, over, or across; transit or migration. The process of passing from one condition or stage to another; transition.

I have spent that last three years plus of my life transitioning.

I was, and at times, still am, weary, so very weary (I think I have blogged that before) of it all.

Since my return home, the visualization of living a segmented life has been with me. My brain just conjured up one of those huge green tomato worms. I want to be done with all that. I am ready to morph into something else...but...but...what? Wrong species, but the image of it metamorphosing into a lunar moth when I complete my journey just flickered into being. I wish to fly to the moon and back again, (yeah I know they don't, but its the thought).

**Another image...I have been beating against the walls of a glass jar for years, no wonder I am full of ambiguities at this stage of my life.**

Midweek, of the week before I left for the conference, I gave myself a few stolen hours. Hours that were, in some ways, an enrichment of myself, stolen hours, hours that were gifted to me by another. An evening in which we attended an amazing musical event, which then segued into a story out of time. As the night wore on, and the wine glasses emptied, I was given the gift of someone's personal history. I was given treasure. I was told the story of two amazing people. Their lives were filled with angst, death, travail, grief, sorrow, and truly unimaginable horrors, but throughout each word of this history, each word was sprinkled, no, each word sparkled, with love. The love the couple in the story felt for each other, and the love my friend feels for them, a love that is embedded into the very depths of his soul. His words transported me back in time. The time of his parents youth. You dear man, (since you read my blog I will speak directly to you), have a way of telling a story that truly encompasses the thespian legacy your parents gifted you with. You brought them into being, into living color for me. Thank you.

The concert we attended, left me with the feeling that I must find a way to create once again, even though I hold no talent. I must find a way to have beauty emerge through my fingertips. Questions. Do I try painting again? My painting, (if one can call it that), was usually bright, colorful and a somewhat crafty/folksy/whimsical take on the natural world. Is this what I need? Or, do I finally concentrate on a new/old path, and begin taking piano lessons again? As I have always promised myself? I began piano lessons at the ripe old age of 13, my teacher was a gifted young man of 16. He doted on me, he adored me, mostly... he lusted after me. The intensity of his feelings for me frightened me, so I quit the lessons after about six weeks, and switched to tennis lessons. Life was easier, but I was a lousy tennis player. Even then, I remember thinking, someday...someday I will take up piano lessons again. I never did. I tried self-teaching, but I couldn't achieve the level of learning I wanted. So, now, my keyboard gathers dust at my old home.

Anyway...

We then spent the next day embracing some of the true glories of the universe. The natural glories of the animal world, and the botanical world. I reveled in these glories. There is sustenance, beauty, and true joy in the viewing of these many beasts that inhabit our earth. Beauties we humans are destroying, but finally, in that very destruction, some of us are also learning. We humans have been, and are, so very destructive. In this aftermath of devastation, I hope we eventually learn to savor. I hold onto that hope. The hope we learn from the vileness we humans can wreak upon our fellow living beings. I hold onto the hope that we learn from the death cries resounding throughout our world. That burning ache we feel, are the scalding tears of mother nature. My hope is...we feel the burn, that we listen to the death knells of our fellow living creatures before it is too late. (Hmm, it seems I momentarily stepped onto a soapbox).

When I returned home from our brief sojourn, I truly did not have the time to absorb all I had seen/heard/felt, as I had work, family, a graduation, and a trip to deal with.

I used my trip to Houston to just be there, and to absorb without thinking.

Upon my return I had no true wish to dig deep into my psyche, I had too much to do to spend time on me, no time for self-analysis. Added into all of that, were/are the people, the many people who briefly touch my life because of the work I do.

My work is filled with people in dire need, often, more often than I like, I can only listen, commiserate, and offer very few options.

In the space of one week, I was visited by two young mothers, one is losing her home, another trying to find one. Within days both families may be homeless. I could not help them. I tried, I tried everything I could think of...but it all came to naught. They cried, I cried. But in the end...they... their children...will have nothing. Nothing. I did nothing.

In addition, I was a part of an event for caregivers of dementia patients. The speakers were two men who have true passion for what they do, because they live it daily. Two men who make a difference.

Then, a phone call from a 69 year old woman, living with breast cancer that has metastasized through out her entire body. As her story unfolded, I also found she has been a paraplegic for 40 years, and raised her granddaughter for 24 of those. She needs a little help at home, because she wishes her granddaughter to move on with her life, her granddaughter has been her main caregiver throughout these years of cancer treatments, and she wishes to see her granddaughter begin creating her own life. What makes her so special is her attitude, she is filled with acceptance, and joy. Yes, joy, she feels she has lived her life as best she could, and is now seeking a way to end her life in peace and contentment by giving her granddaughter the freedom to begin her journey through life. More tears.

Thus, my work also has its own lessons to impart.

Thought fragments...

Memories... where my mind flees at times when I seek to understand.

As I recall the stories I had heard, the love story I heard during the wee hours of a Tuesday/Wednesday past, the brief snippets of life stories I heard from the people I met in Houston, those I hear from my callers and clients, my own story, my own memories begin to flicker in my mind. Portions of my own childhood, and marriage. Then those of my children. Landing on one thought that is continually with me. I wonder, have I given my children the legacy of love and warmth I so wished for them to have as young babes in my arms?

As I contemplate the early years of my children's lives...

What strikes me are the songs sung with them in my arms, the books, the nursery rhymes and stories. The routines and rituals. Family life is filled with rituals, traditions, and if we are very lucky...love, so much love. More thoughts to ponder at another time.

So this week, as the dust has settled, as I absorbed it all, as I came to accept...all of those thought fragments have finally begun to coalesce into meaning...

the funny thing is...

even though I know the meanings will change over time...

even though I know bone deep that the pain of divorce is far from over...

I know...

It will all be OK.

And, I will plant flowers, many many flowers as summer begins.

* * * * * * *

Meet, Sylvia, one of my new friends from Houston.
In the Armadillo race we landed second place.

Lighting My Way

The room was dark, I could barely see the outline of her head on the pillow, I placed a kiss on her cheek, and whispered, "Good night, I love you."

"I love you too Mommy."

The world righted itself, my heart felt an ease it had not felt for days, my soul smiled.

Nothing and Everything

Five days, four nights, hundreds of people, hours of walking, nine workshops, myriads of sights, sounds, and scents. Of most importance though, five people, five souls who touched my life briefly but oh-so-intensely. Four of which I met, and one I did not meet, but would love to, an artist who's work I had somehow never encountered before, Markus Pierson. An artist who's words resonate within me as much as his visual art, if not more so. At this moment, all leaving a portion of me numbly calm.

While in Houston, there were moments when I was fully there, and moments in which I felt as if I was not truly there, now I am home, and yet, I am not home.

I am numb. And yet, Anna Nalick's Breathe (2am) lyrics have been, and keep, running on repeat through my mind.

Information overload, surprises, experiences, faces, emotions, conversations to be assimilated, needing to be assimilated. Yet no time in which to do so.

My mind is filled with images and words, important words, words that may change my life. If I allow them to.

From the moment I boarded my outgoing plane, my senses, my mind were fully opened, ready to absorb. Absorb I did. Each night when I arrived back to my hotel room I was emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. So much so, I couldn't seem to take the time to refresh and re-energize. Each night as I attempted to write the day's experiences in my journal, I found myself unable to record the day just passed. Pages filled with thought fragments, and incomplete sentences.

Fragments that must eventually be examined and placed in their proper perspective.

I surprised myself because there was not one point in time in which I longed for home, nor did I feel lonely. When I needed to interact with people, I could, and it came easily to me. Another surprise, as I am very introverted and can be quite shy with strangers.

I was not ready to return home.

And yet...home again I am.

In these few moments I have before the next 48 hours of craziness fill my life (Miss Daughter is graduating this weekend), and even though I am still numb, there is a thought process that I must eventually follow through to its end. Hiding, yet peeking through, is a strong conviction that I have reached an important place in my life. One which fills me with hope, excitement, and dread. Because it involves a new way of thinking, and believing.

These thoughts center around a common theme. Grief, and letting go. I have been in mourning for years, and never fully allowed myself to realize it. I mourn for the abused child me, for the childhood she cannot cherish. I mourn the young adult woman I buried away because I feared her courage and strength. (this may sound crazy, but it is so much easier to be weak). I mourn the wife I could not become. I mourn lost dreams. I mourn a love that was not meant to be. I mourn loved ones lost to death, and otherwise, of whom I do not feel I expressed my true depths of feeling to. I mourn what my marriage could have been. I have been lost in the land of mourning, grieving for what could have been.

There is a time for grief, a time for mourning, it is a necessary part of our growth and health as humans beings. But there is also a time to move on from the grief, to let the past go, to embrace today, and tomorrow.

The threads of my life seem to be intent upon weaving a new and brighter design to my life tapestry. When I step away to view this new area, the background has been shaded in with the colors of midnight. An indigo field with a sprinkling of stars. The rest is unknown, unimagined, anything is possible.

If a new pattern is to emerge, I must follow one rule only.

This rule was defined for me by a beautiful stranger four nights ago.

Within only moments of meeting me, he said, "Open your heart, it is time."

He is right, it is time.

Many fragments of thought...hinging on one...my walls of protection are still in place...I have shaken the foundation, but I got a whole lot more shaking to do before they come tumbling down.

* * * * * * *

"She lingers, staying past the sunset, past the end of the evening, on into the night and its many mysteries. She is strong, very, and unafraid to face those mysteries. She looks across her horizon. She has but one wish; for love to rain down upon her, to cover her completely and hold fast, to stay strong over time...and I will. There is no mystery there."
~Markus Pierson~

* * * * * * *





*

Yikes!

I woke up this morning, and it all hit me...

OMG! I have so much to do! How will I get it all done?

So, I started rewriting my To Do list, as this usually helps calm me, I become more focused and can prioritize.

But, suddenly it has morphed into...multiple lists.

I know what I have to do, I know how to do it. I know who to delegate to. Yet, my anxiety level always goes ballistic every time I look at them, every time I think of all that must be done! I have multiple things to accomplish all with deadlines within days of one another.

Being a procrastinator sucks!

*Inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, once...twice...three times.*

Telling myself, "I can do this, I will do this, and everything will turn out fine, just fine. I know this. It always does."

Why don't I believe myself this time?

* * * * * * *

To add to my topsy turvy emotions, Digger Bob died yesterday. I am not sure why, but, Kiko killed him, she broke his neck. I assume she was playing too roughly with him, as she had that tendency with Moose when he was smaller, it could be frightening to observe, in fact I spent time training her to play more gently with him. Yet, Digger Bog, our six month old kitten, is no longer with us.

I can accept this better if I think she was just playing too roughly. She and Digger Bob seemed to adjust quite well to living in the same house together. Several times I observed him walk over and stick his nose into the food bowl while she was eating, he even ate a few bites. In essence sharing the same bowl, and not once did she express agitation or aggression toward him.

Whether it happened in play or not, he died, and not gently. My heart aches, and I am having a very difficult time showing love to Kiko right now. My stomach does flip flops every time I am in the same room as she. I know, this too will pass. Soon I hope.

* * * * * * *

In some ways, even though it is the main reason for my increased stress level, I am kinda looking forward to my trip to Texas next week. As long as I attempt to keep from worrying about what is not getting done at home, and what is not getting done at the office. (Although I will have the laptop with me, so at least some of that stuff I can do from there.)

Once I am there, I should be able to focus mainly on the conference (at least during the day), the new people I will be meeting, And, in the evenings, if I am lucky, I will get to walk the streets of the city...something I truly enjoy.

* * * * * * *

Right now, 'tis time for me to take a long walk here in the country, I won't think of it as a time waster, because the end result will be a more relaxed and focused me.

*I did call my mom, and thank her for being my mother. That was a good part of my morning, a very good part.*

Missing What Once Was

It's been one of those weeks, when each day felt as if it were a week in itself. I know a part of my exhaustion comes from the fact I am still recovering from my bronchial virus...a slow steady recovery...too slow...I still sound like I am coughing up a lung... that's a lovely image isn't it?

Added to that, I have several deadlines approaching (gasp! rather quickly!), so my stress level keeps rising...higher, and higher and higher. I try to tamp it down, telling myself, I can do it, I will do it all, I always come through...at least I always have before.

Overloaded at work right now, because I will be gone away from the office for ten days, and my program has money left over, lots of money. So, I'm trying to intake new clients as fast as possible. Which is a good thing. I love being able to offer services to family caregivers, and since I have lots of discretion on how the funds are used, I can supply families with a wide variety of needed items...I like that part of it. What I don't like is the paperwork, for every new family, there is a minimum of two hours involved inputting all of the data into the program, creating files, and authorizations...I often end the day with a major crick in my neck, and my bangs standing on end, from the way I grip them when I become frustrated. But...I am joyfully happy to be able to provide...I do love this part of my job.

Plus, due to my insane need to procrastinate, I have so much left undone in my personal life, which currently has me in a tumbling mind numbing mind spin. I know I will get it all sorted out, and completed before I leave next Saturday... I know I will. Except...except it all takes money, which I don't have. I have decided I need to learn an easily barterable <-- (yeah not a word, I know blogger!) skill, I think life would be so much more enjoyable that way. I just don't know what it would be. Maybe I could polish up my writing skills, and sell personalized erotic fantasies, (I was joking, but now that I think about it, maybe I can advertise myself on craigslist), tis a thought, since I am sadly lacking in any other marketable skills.

Betwixt and between my current uberbusyness (blogger says that is not a word either, whodathunkit?), I am also playing Miss Lovelorn for three friends... a regular Dear Abby I am. Sigh, we humans make life so complicated.

In the midst of all this relationship madness though, I have learned a few things about myself...which could have been the Universe's intention...or...not.

* * * * * * *

Earlier this week my friend DR, and I, spent hours on the phone, actually many hours off and on, since the conversation would occasionally be interrupted by his Ladylove's latest toing and froing, sometimes she loves him, sometimes she thinks they need to end their relationship, all within a few hours. While, at the same time, I was in the midst of a senior picture photo shoot with Miss Daughter, (we got some absolutely amazing shots). Anyway, I would be setting her up for the next shot when my phone would ring, and it would be...DR, needing my input into Ladylove's latest bit of craziness, all of this is also very bemusing to me, since he is a shrink...he knows this stuff...he just can't shrink himself. I listened, sometimes cajoled, sometimes teased, sometimes mothered him, but mostly just listened, occasionally adding in my two cents worth. By late evening, I had him laughing, and had soothed his worries. In the process though, he had me thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

The portion of our conversation that filled me with so much ponderment, in which I currently still don't have any answers to, centered around love of course, and...missing.

At one point when we were discussing Ladylove, he said, "You two have so many similarities, it amazes me sometimes. How alike, yet so different, you are."

"Yes darlin', I know, you have told me this soooo many many times. 'Tis a fact, I've been told this very thing quite often about other men's lovers. Sometimes, I think I'm just a generic woman or something."

His reply, "No, never that, you are you, a very special to me you, , I haven't been a very good friend, calling you at odd hours of the day and night with my problems. Thank you though, you're always ready to listen to my incoherent ramblings. Plus, you're very insightful when it comes to her."

"Like you said, we share many of the same characteristics, I just think about how I would feel, how I would react, in similar circumstances."

This very similarity often sets me to wondering, how we each end up the way we do, so messed up when it comes to love, yet dealing with it in such different ways. I feel a lot healthier than her emotionally, even though we are the same age. Her similarities to me, the similarities of our marriages, and the dissimilar way we deal with them, had me pondering my own loss.

He said, "It's your turn now, how are you doing? Really doing?"

"You know me, I muddle through. Even on those days when I feel so lost. And...I...there are some moments...when I can't seem to find it within myself...to...make it all seem right."

He asked, "What do you want? Right now, this minute, what is it that you want?"

"It doesn't exist."

He asked, "What doesn't exist, and why not?"

"My want, it doesn't exist, not anymore. What I want, is something that once was, but can never be again. What I want...are only memories now...and...even though he gave me those memories, I miss them, not the memories themselves, but the feeling...yes...that feeling is what I want to feel again. I miss it..."

I let out a huge sigh, "I can't have what I want. I will probably never have it again. Which makes me feel very sad."

Putting on his shrink cap, "What was it, what is it, that you think you will never have again."

"You were married for a long time too. When it was good, hell, I bet even when things weren't so good, and you had days when everything just seemed to go wrong, when everything was...messy? Work, the kids, one of those topsy turvy anxiety days? With all of those years together, the two of you knowing each other so well, she knew didn't she? When she saw you, she knew you'd had a really rough day. She knew you needed something special, and she gave it to you, just like I know you did the same for her. If you needed a hug, or some quiet time, just the two of you, she provided it. Right?"

He said, "Yes, we did have that, sometimes we still do, we've been able to stay close because of the kids. What did he give you, I mean, I know what he did to you, and I don't like him for that, but on your bad days, what did he do that helped you?"

Sighing over the maddening lump appearing in my throat, and fighting tears, I tried my best to answer him, to answer me. "Sometimes, it was...this...this heart, mind, body enveloping hug. If he was home when I was having a bad day, or if he knew I was really worried about someone. He seemed to know this worry carried a higher need. Of course, this was before we became pretty much lost to each other, but even during those last few years, we could still...sometimes...give that added encouragement, that little bit of caring to each other. Sorry, I'm rambling. Anyway, he would hold me, he had a special hug for those times, he would turn me around, stand behind me, sometimes rub my neck and shoulders, and then he would simply wrap his arms around me, I mean really wrap his arms around me, it was a meaningful hug, you know? He would rest his head on top of my mine. And...we would...just be there in our little circle of...of...caring support. We were...home for each other. Other times he would pull me down on the sofa with him, he would settle his back against the arm rest, legs outstretched, and I would lie back against him, with my head resting on his chest, and, again, he would wrap his arms around me, sometimes we wouldn't say anything at all. But I knew I could let go, just let it all go. His hands are rough and calloused, but they felt right. He would run them up and down massaging my arms, or his fingers would softly sift through my hair. Those few moments, I knew I could be free of worry, I was safe."

His shrink self again, "Do you miss him, or the feeling of being home with him?"

"It's funny, those moments never lasted long, and when he was disappointed in me, he would never remember that I could be full of worries too, in fact, he would often accuse me of not worrying about anything. But really, I just don't express my worries out loud like he does, at least not until they're overwhelming me. Anyway, there were times when he seemed to know...I just needed to feel it, to feel that he wanted to hold me, wanted to soothe me, wanted me to feel better. There were times, when it seemed like he wanted me to realize that I didn't have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. With those gestures, he told me he was there to share it all with me. We could soothe each other. Those hugs told me we could handle anything, find the solutions...together."

He asked me again, "Do you miss him? Do you want to go back?"

"No, its not really him I miss... Oh, you're good at this shrinking business! No, that's an easy answer. I don't want to go back, I don't miss him so much, it's the loving touches, it's the feeling of the shared life, the intimacy of that very sharing. He knows the right buttons to push to have me feeling really bad about myself, but for a long time...he also knew the right buttons to push to let me know he was in it with me. I miss that part of it. The sharing, our minds in sync, and most especially being held, feeling secure and safe for those few moments...he was my home."

DR then ask, "Sunny? Why do you think you will never have that again?"

"I don't know, maybe it really does take years and years of living together to reach that point. I...I don't know. Will I have that with someone else? I just wonder...will I ever feel... maybe it is possible...but, right now...I just don't know."

"We've known each other for so long. There were times when we...we worked, you know? Anyway, it doesn't matter now. If I am really lucky, eventually he will forgive me, and we can be friends, maybe, because of our history, because of the kids, maybe some of the warm feelings will return. The thing is, once that happens, I know that side of him well enough to know, that if I were in trouble, frightened, badly injured or ill...he would be at my side in an instant, in fact I think...he would now. I hope he knows I will always try to be there for him. Is that love? Is that the result of our growing into adulthood together? Is it just the memory of the love we once shared? The family we created? I can't answer my own questions, and maybe it's just wishful thinking. Because, I know, I will always hold love for him in my heart, and he holds that same kind of love for me in his...at least I hope...once he lets go of the anger he will again. "

"What all this boils down to is the fact that I am a needy little wimp sometimes, and, at those times, I really miss and need those gestures of love and caring."

"You are NOT a wimp! We all need that, you deserve to have it again, and if someone tells you they don't need it too, I'm not sure I would believe them. "

"Anyway, I don't have it now...so...I gotta learn how to do it for myself."

"No, you don't, even though I have been a really rotten friend lately, you know you can have a hug whenever you need it. You do know that right?"

"You have not been a rotten friend, I like being needed...anyway crazy man you keep me amused, and, you're the needy one yourself right now! Anyway darlin', I appreciate the offer, and will probably take you up on it sometime, but it's still not the same, and you know it."

"I know darlin', I know."

* * * * * * *

Missing, missing something that once was, and will never be again.

It's funny, once I let some of my guilt go, then I started missing those rare and precious moments. Then, I began to remember the moments he cherished me. Then I remember soon-to-be-ex didn't always dislike who I am, he didn't always wish I were different.

I fight anger sometimes, anger at him. Because his life is so much easier than mine right now. And, then I feel guilty for the anger, because this was my choice, my way of saving me. I know I've hurt him. I really wish I hadn't. He hurt me too, for so many years, but, I really don't think he has any concept of that. He once told me he doesn't know how to empathize. So, how could he know? How can I blame him for something he has no concept of? But, I do, sometimes, I do.

Even with the anger, even with the pain, maybe because of the pain, I miss what once was.

Yum and Yuck

It hit me hard, and once it did, I couldn't get it out of my mind. I was filled with an insatiable craving, filled with the desire to revel in its sinfully rich decadence.

I kept imagining the pure bliss of that first bite...imagining my teeth lightly crunching through the flaky thin outer layer, and into the moist, ooey gooey chocolatey caramel center, tasting the sweet earthiness of pecans crunching against my teeth. The more I tried to forget it, the more I wanted it. I swear at one point, I was sure I smelled the scent of fresh baked brownies, and roasting pecans wafting through my office door.




I craved. I desired. I really, really, really wanted a chocolate caramel pecan brownie...I don't know why, I rarely crave baked goods. Although, I can be a chocolate fiend at times. The craving surprised me. It was so huge, that during my lunch break I purchased the ingredients to bake some. I won't though, the craving has passed. I know, the imaginary brownies would have been so much better than the reality.

For about thirty minutes, my mind kept wandering to that imagined plate of brownies though. They were perfect. They were the perfect bite, they were perfection personified, freshly baked brownies at their peak, still warm from the oven, the mouthwatering moment when the soft fudgy center becomes chewy and the pecans are full flavored, the caramel stretching between the two pieces the brownie becomes when I break it in half.

Sigh.


Then I felt my recent nemesis crashing in and annihilating my delicious daydream. A heated flush suddenly enveloped me, I could feel it creeping across my face and down my neck as she made her presence known to me once again. I have tried to so hard to deny her existence. I thought I had another year at least before she struck full force. But nope, these past two weeks as my body's defense system has been weakened by seasonal allergies and bronchitis, she has been visiting me multiple times day and night, she never seems to sleep, and loves interrupting mine. No matter how much I try to deny her, she won't stop her annoying little interruptions in my day. I...gulp...I think...I am being haunted by...sigh...hot flashes. Grrrrrrrrrr!

To Leave or Stay? That was the Question.

"The Direction Of Happiness ~Leaving A Relationship~

One of the hardest decisions we ever make in life is leaving a long-term relationship that just isn’t working. When attempts at repairing and working out issues aren’t working, it may be time to examine moving on. We are emotional creatures, and when our heartstrings are tied to those of another, separating from that person can feel like an act of courage. It is not something most of us will take lightly, and many of us will struggle with our desire to stay in a relationship that is unfulfilling simply in order to avoid that pain. We may question whether the happiness we seek even exists, and we may wonder if we might be wiser to simply settle where we are, making the best of what we have..."

A friend sent this Daily OM to me, I had read it before, but didn't remember I had until after she pointed out to me that I had. I remember it striking a chord within me on that first read too. But it wasn't until I read it connected with the message from my friend that it sunk it deep, kinda bopped me on the head and said..."This is something you need to remember for the rest of your life."

* * * * * * *

One year ago, on the first Sunday of May 2007, I physically left my marriage (emotionally I had left long before then), I can honestly say, I have never in my life felt so emotionally unstable, so frightened as I did that day. Once I had made my decision, and told my husband the day was at hand, I thought I would feel elation, strength, courage, and be energized

Instead, I let fear be in charge, no matter how hard I tried to bury it, push it away, I couldn't. I was utterly consumed by fear. I felt as if I were drowning in an undertow of fear. I wasn't sure enough of myself, nor did I trust myself enough, to know if I could fight the inertia fear was filling me with. Saying I was overwrought, is an understatement. There was only one course of action for me to take. I did something I had rarely done before, I asked for emotional reinforcement of the deepest kind. Seeking that level of support from another person has always been difficult for me, my very life experiences from childhood on taught me it would rarely be available when I needed it. In my marriage the lesson was reinforced. I learned over the years that the one person I wanted/needed/expected support from was most often unwilling, or unable to give it. So, I eventually stopped seeking it. It is not to say he did not provide the support I needed on occasion, but there were also times when I had the sense I was supposed to give him support, that my own needs were silly, and unimportant, or maybe, he was simply emotionally incapable of it. Because of his inability to give me emotional support, I was often left feeling emotionally weak and needy. I detest both of those feelings, thus I had to be my own source of strength, I knew I could rely on no one else.

* * * * * * *

Unable to truly face the depth of my fear that week prior to my move, I wrote this.

In fact, I was very unwilling to face a lot of my deepest feelings that week, in an entry written the day before I moved, I glossed them over, while still trying to forgive myself for leaving. I wished/still do, to be fair to him, even today, I often dislike myself when I say or write negative things about him.

* * * * * * *

On that weekend, one year ago, fear was winning, I couldn't allow that. I called my sister. The moment she answered the phone, all the emotions I had desperately tried to keep at bay, overwhelmed me. The enormous level of fear, the sense of failure, utter despair and desperation, self-loathing and guilt. I could barely speak through the lump in my throat. But I knew, if she were with me the next day, I could do it, I would have the strength I needed to battle the fear, I would have the strength to pack up what few possessions my guilt allowed me to take, and do it. I simply needed her presence, nothing more, through my tears, I asked, "Be here for me please, I'm afraid, I am so afraid I won't do it if it's just me. Please, please come, just be here." She didn't even hesitate, she just told me she would be there the following morning, unless I needed her that night.

That Sunday was insanity in the making. At times my anxiety level rose so high, I would lose myself in the panic. The last few boxes I packed were not even organized, I just threw items in, items I had not really planned on taking. And, left items behind that I should have taken. Even in the midst of all my fear and anxiety, the little bit of the rational me that was allowed out, would question my level of fear. Yes, my husband's behavior could be unpredictable at times, he often seemed to have unknown levels of anger seething below the surface. But, he had never ever physically harmed me. So, I questioned my fear.

Last year I didn't understand, last year I wasn't completely capable of allowing myself to see the true source of my fear.

I wasn't just afraid of his anger, or what his ultimate long-term reactions would be. I was afraid of me, and the punishments I would enact upon myself. Guilt, and self-loathing were my constant companions that day, (and off and on for many months to come), I was still sending myself the message, "If only I had tried harder, if only I could have been the woman he needed instead of me, maybe if I had loved better, if only, if only..."

But with the help of my dear baby sister, the move was accomplished.

When we had moved what little there was to be moved, and unpacked the few things I had brought with me, we took a few moments to sit down and talk. I then suffered another minor emotional meltdown, wondering what I had done to my children, how badly I had harmed them in breaking up their family, hating myself for causing the three people who had been the center of my life for over 26 years so much pain. But my dear sister wouldn't let me sit there and punish myself unnecessarily. She wiped my tears, held my hand, and pushed me to the next necessity of the day, she rode with me to the supermarket to buy food to fill the cabinets of my new home.

When we returned and as I looked around at the dinginess of the mobile home, at the sparseness of the furnishings, looked at the fact that my neither my daughter, nor I, had furniture in our bedrooms, except a mattress on the floor, a small desk, and boxes to use as nightstands. I once again allowed my guilt to take over, hysterically saying, "This is not the way my 17 year old daughter is supposed to be living!"

But my loving sister wouldn't allow that either, she grabbed my shoulders, forced me to look in her the eyes, and said, "It's Ok, she's not upset about it, she's happier than I've seen her in months. Yes, you were totally crazy to not take any furniture from the house, but for some bizarre reason its the only way you could do it. As time passes, it will get better. You know why? Because you'll finally feel free. Sunny, you've spent a lifetime thinking you had to be his idea of the perfect wife or you weren't good enough, that he wouldn't love you. You've spent years trying to control every aspect of your lives so he wouldn't be disappointed in you or the kids. Years, and years of hiding you. You don't have to be in control of everything anymore. Just be."

What I heard was the word control. It was an epiphany of thought. I was shocked. I had never thought of it in that way before. But that had been my life for so long. All the years flashed through my mind, all the years of trying to be a different woman when in my husbands presence. All the years of trying in a loving way to keep our children in control when he was home, so they wouldn't feel his wrath and disappointment. All the years of receiving the message I had to put him first over everyone in my life, including my children, and failing miserably. I had lived two lives for so long, the more spontaneous free spirited me when he wasn't around, and the controlled me when he was.

It took me months to let it go, to realize that my every move wasn't judged by him anymore, to realize I didn't have to attempt a level of control that is the antithesis of who I am. It took me months, and months to learn to let some of that go. I still haven't been able to let it all go, that will take years, hopefully not as many years as it took me to learn it. But I am getting there. My own self-judgment is not as harsh as it used to be. When I feel as if I failed myself, or my children, I am eventually able to let the feeling of failure go, and move on. I am a much more serene individual because of it.

I still find it very difficult to ask for emotional support, or reassurance when I am feeling vulnerable. It takes a very high level of emotional angst to be filling me before I do ask. My sister pointed this out to me recently. In what I considered a moment of extreme weakness, I spilled my guts to her. She listened, she heard me, she acknowledged my feelings, which was all I needed. Then she told me how happy she was that I had done so. Wow, another epiphany for me. She was pleased I had turned to her, pleased she was able to return in kind what I have given her for so many years. In my turning to her in my need, our former closeness has returned. Our hearts are once again fully open to each other. Just because I allowed myself to express my emotional pain fully. She accepted it almost as if it were a gift.

As I have contemplated this, I realized it does feel like a gift to me, when a friend or loved one turns to me in their time of need. When they just need someone to listen, someone to give them a hug, someone to give them the reassurance they are loved, or they aren't insane. When they turn to me for that, they are giving me the ultimate gift. They are trusting me with a most intimate part of themselves. It is a gift.

* * * * * * *

Four days after my move I wrote this .

My life has changed so much in the past year.

I still have my moments of serenity, when I will revel in the feeling of just being me. I allow dreams and hopes to fill me, but then I will back away from them, as I am not quite ready to believe in my possibilities yet. For several months I experienced a deep depression as I began to allow myself to grieve. I felt the effects of depression darkening every aspect of my life, so I turned to medication, it helped, I was able to regain some focus and get on with life in a bit more efficient manner. But once I reached that juncture, I also realized the medication was no longer necessary, it served its purpose. But it was also affecting me in other ways. It was dulling me. I am not fully capable yet of expressing it, but it was as if the medication placed a dull filter on my personality. I wasn't experiencing the little joys as fully as I used to, my spark, the light of me was filtered out. So a little over 2 months ago, I stopped taking it. I have sensed no detrimental effects of no longer taking it.The timing was perfect as spring is here, thus the very aliveness, the deep rich colors of spring, the ever increasing lushness of new growth fill me with pure pleasure. And,even though I have allowed my excellent ability to procrastinate full reign, I am not in panic mode over all that I have to accomplish in a little under 16 days. I am feeling a light level of stress, but I recognize it, it is the level that gets me moving, accomplishing, succeeding.

I am sure I will experience more deep, dark emotional lows. I still have fears, money or the lack of is ever constant, fear of soon-to-be-ex's anger has diminished somewhat, but it is still there as well. Fear that I will not make the attempt to follow some of the paths my many dreams are opening up to me in the future. If I look for them, there are many negatives in my life right now, but there are also so very many positives. The scales of my life are off balance, life is heaviest on the content and happy side. That's a good thing.

Jeles at Common Ties

I find these thought provoking.

Jele (noun, pronounced "jelly"): Obscure journalism jargon for a showcase story that lasts through the weekend.

Common Ties asks the world 20 questions, pair the answers with art, and publish their favorites every Friday.

There are many more at Common Ties.












The Questions:
1. What door do you wish you never opened?
2. What is your most obsessive thought?
3. Where is your favorite place in the world, and why?
4. What's the one thing your parents don't understand about you?
5. If you could relive a single day or moment, what would it be?
6. What were the strangest circumstances under which you have been intimate?
7. Under what circumstances have you been closest to death?
8. What is the most gracious act of kindness you have witnessed?
9. What is the worst betrayal you have ever experienced?
10. What is the most bizarre thing you have seen or done?
11. What is the greatest risk you have ever taken?
12. What is your earliest, most vivid memory?
13. What is the most meaningful "I love you" spoken by you or to you?
14. What was the single most terrifying moment of your life?
15. If you have experienced a moment of sudden faith or loss of faith, what prompted it?
16. If you could take back one thing you have done, what would it be?
17. What is your greatest talent or accomplishment?
18. What is the most joyful moment you have experienced?
19. What is the most painful moment you have experienced?
20. Open Question: Submit your own question and answer. No answer is off-limits, and can be on any personal theme. Here is a sample list of 20: abortion, addiction, adolescence, break-ups, crime, death, depression, eating disorders, humor, lucky breaks, mental disorders, moral dilemmas, pets, poverty, racism, religion, sex, suicide, turning points, war.

A Political Wednesday

Hillary visited my hometown this evening, I went, I saw, I heard, I was impressed for the most part. I went as an Obama supporter. I left an Obama supporter, but I also left with the knowledge that if for some idiotic reason he does not get the nomination, I can switch my support to Hillary with no qualms. There are a few issues I don't agree with her on, there are some kinks in her health care plan, but it is still better, much better than what we have now, and not that different from Obama's.

This was the first political gathering of this sort and size I have ever attended. When I heard she was going to be here today, I knew I had to go.

No matter how politically cynical one is, no matter how blasé some of the attendees attempted to appear, the air of excitement of having Hillary Clinton, former first lady and presidential hopeful, in the midst of our city center was palpable. A part of me couldn't help but view some of it with an air of amusement. A few local political hopefuls were moving up the several blocks long line shaking our hands, and introducing themselves....no one cared, they were there to see and hear Hillary. Cameras were there aplenty, cell phone cameras too, with folks jostling, and angling in and around the crowd, even climbing trees to get the best shot.

I think she did an amazing job speechifying. It's funny the things I noticed...
In business, we are told if you want to make someone feel good, if you wish to draw them in, you should say their name when conversing with them. She did just that, in the first 15 minutes of her speech, I bet she said the name of my state as many times. It does work, it did draw us in, even more so when she dropped the name of our favored democratic senator, and how closely she has worked with him. I also admired how smoothly she remembered each point she wished to make, even though she has probably said it all many times today, and thousands of times in the past year, she came across fresh and strong.

I was also surprised in a number of ways.
I expected a lot of clapping, a whole lot of cheering, there was some, but not nearly the amount I thought there would be. I was also slightly disappointed in the crowd, as her speech ended, and we all lined up to wend our way homeward, I expected to overhear my fellow attendees thoughts on what they had just heard. Nope, the conversations were not about the issues, they were not about her viability as a candidate. What I heard were children crying for their suppers, people complaining they had to stand around and wait for the barricades to be reopened before they could leave. There was very little discussion of what we heard, or why we were there. True, we all knew ahead of time how she stands on the issues, we all pretty much knew what she was going to say, I expected more discussion though. To me it appeared as if the crowd was more interested in having seen her, they were fans seeing a rock star, or movie heroine. More interested in trying to get one last look at her as her motorcade drove away, or buying a button or T-shirt. Maybe it is because it is so late in the primary season, it's all been said, it's all been heard. I also had expected to see people clamoring to sign up as volunteers for her campaign, to man phones, or provide rides to the early voting sites, or for primary day, but nope, the sign-up sheets were mostly blank. Although if Hillary supporters are like me, they signed up weeks ago to help her campaign. (although as I mentioned, I'm signed up for the Obama team)

All in all I am very glad I went, very happy I heard her speak, I enjoyed it, it is much better to hear it in person, much better than reading it, or hearing a sound bite or two on the radio.

I really wanted my children to attend, but they were unable to due to other family duties...sigh...it would have to have been with the republican side of their family.

* * * *

I was talking to a friend this evening, and he brought up the idea of watching the Republican/Democratic presidential hopefuls televised debates in a sports bar. I think that an excellent idea. Part of the reason could be because I don't have television, but it's also because I think a smaller more personable setting, with the added social inducements of food and alcohol available, would encourage more discourse and the exchange of ideas. Probably be a few shouting matches as well. If not that, then perhaps I will try to set up a gathering at a friends house, of course it would have to include both republicans and democrats to keep it interesting. Yep, sounds like a great idea to me.

* * * * * * *

Trail Update...eh...Non-Trail Update

My son arrived home last night, exhausted, and sunburned, but very happy. He seems ready to live the changes he spoke of. I have to admit, I do not quite trust this epiphany of his yet. That will take time, and actions, I guess I need physical proof to fully believe. These doubts carry a burden of guilt with them, but it is how I feel. I am hopeful though. Time will tell...as the saying goes.