Last week was pretty close to the week from hell. It felt like everything was happening at the same time to make me feel like utter shit. 1) Angie and the rest brought the munchkins to the city to go to the Magic House and, rather pointedly imo, didn't tell me until afterward when she posted a note on Facebook about it. 2) Major, major communication breakdown with a friend triggering all my abandonment fears. 3) The ex-husband called me at work out of the blue to ask if we could try to renew our friendship, triggering a whole host of *other* types of fears. I don't think a single day went by without major tears last week.
This week is better and a lot of my tension has ebbed away again. And, I do want to give myself some small pat on the back for putting myself first in the exhusband situation. It was difficult and there are still residual doubts about turning him away but the alternative was not a good possibility for me.
I also think I learned a bit more about what are hot buttons (for lack of a better term) for me and what I need when I'm feeling stressed and scared. I forget sometimes just how differently people (even people I trust and feel close to) react to stressful situations. Somehow, I feel as though I need to become far more comfortable with not having someone to catch me at those moments or provide reassurance.
As for the situation with the munchkins... It doesn't seem like there are many good options other than trying to maintain contact with them from a distance. I have some ideas for care packages I can send them periodically and I hope that they'll be able to at least respond to the notes I include with those. I hate that that's the best I can do but at least it'd be something.
PSG starts this Sunday and I need it. I may not get another post in before that but I'm sure there will be plenty to say after.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
6.13.2011
Happy Working Song
First
They make tiny cuts
Vertically
Here and there
Chest and knees and scapula get marked
A map for them to follow with their
Scarlet hot instruments
They take exquisite care and inch
Your skin downward
Away from your ruby flesh
The hobgoblins sing as they flay their victims
Happy working songs
To cover the whimpers
Of the naked souls
On whom they toil.
First
They make tiny cuts
Vertically
Here and there
Chest and knees and scapula get marked
A map for them to follow with their
Scarlet hot instruments
They take exquisite care and inch
Your skin downward
Away from your ruby flesh
The hobgoblins sing as they flay their victims
Happy working songs
To cover the whimpers
Of the naked souls
On whom they toil.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
6.4.2011
Someone suggested today, after hearing a story from my childhood that I haven't shared with anyone but a therapist and (maybe) my exhusband, that this may be a time when that pain could actually heal. And, I started this blog planning to share it but I'm still not sure. I feel the need to get it out, to express it but... I guess I need to process it more.
Life is okay, getting better in some ways, staying the same in others. In other words, the bio family stuff is the same except even quieter. I had what was an epic date last week and look forward to more time with someone I almost instantly clicked with, a kindred spirit. :) I have been working on meditating more and I keep making my focus what makes me happy and starting each day with acceptance of where I am and being present as much as I can in each moment.
I'm ready for PSG. More so each day.
Life is okay, getting better in some ways, staying the same in others. In other words, the bio family stuff is the same except even quieter. I had what was an epic date last week and look forward to more time with someone I almost instantly clicked with, a kindred spirit. :) I have been working on meditating more and I keep making my focus what makes me happy and starting each day with acceptance of where I am and being present as much as I can in each moment.
I'm ready for PSG. More so each day.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
5.3.2011
Okay...today is a day when I wonder how well people around me, those to whom I feel close, really know me. Am I too open or not open enough? Does it appear that my life is one of misery when that's actually not the case? Well, aside from work which just sucks most of the time. Oddly, I remember a time when I was much happier with this job and delighted with the comfort and security it honestly does offer. That fact makes me feel like I've become far too prone to finding the negative in a situation and not viewing the positive in it. It's true that I feel conflicted about what goes on at this research university and my part in it. It's also true that I don't really work that hard and I have benefits that I thank my lucky stars for after having spent years working the system and doing without basic health care. If you were to ask me what I wanted out of my professional life now, though, I do want to get to explore more ways to rediscover my sparkle (more on that below, I promise). It may be raw egotism but I do believe I have gifts and abilities that I just can't employ here or in any type of Office Job. I want work that I can smile about doing.
So, to the sparkly stuff. Picked up this book at Pudd'nhead Books the other day that I both love and hate. I think it is a beautiful creation and something that might be good for Em to have at some point. I know I wish I'd found it as a child and been able to keep and return to it as an adult. However, it also reduced me to a sobbing mess as I thought about how crushed and inhibited what sparkle I had as a child was. This is the book in question. When I was the 7 year old I picture in my mind, the girl with crooked teeth whose family told her to change her laugh, the teenager who was (I know now) really skinny whose mother pushed her to keep losing weight and to conform, conform, conform... back then, I knew exactly who I wanted to be. I wanted to be the intelligent, accomplished, hippie who made her own rules. And, I see myself now and I wonder if anyone sees glimmers of that woman peeking through the carefully created/developed in response to dire straights person I am most of the time. Deep down, I wish I had a guide to shedding this fearful outer shell and living the life I dream of. I tell myself(and I hope that it's true) that I am working toward that little by little. I just don't know if it's obvious that it's a continuing process from the outside or if I just appear the fool who believes she can be something she can't.
So, I'm struggling with that. I'm also struggling with feeling like too much of my life is filled up with "shoulds" instead of the things I want to do. Some of that comes from feeling tired of this job but some of it comes from continuing to feel responsible for parenting those who should have parented me instead. I'm torn between guilt at avoiding that obligation lately and relief that I'm able to and a feeling of elation at the times when obligations other than that seem to disappear, a thing that may be making me into a shitty friend. If I bail on something I planned with anyone reading this, I'm sorry--I'm just trying to find a balance somehow, some way.
So, to the sparkly stuff. Picked up this book at Pudd'nhead Books the other day that I both love and hate. I think it is a beautiful creation and something that might be good for Em to have at some point. I know I wish I'd found it as a child and been able to keep and return to it as an adult. However, it also reduced me to a sobbing mess as I thought about how crushed and inhibited what sparkle I had as a child was. This is the book in question. When I was the 7 year old I picture in my mind, the girl with crooked teeth whose family told her to change her laugh, the teenager who was (I know now) really skinny whose mother pushed her to keep losing weight and to conform, conform, conform... back then, I knew exactly who I wanted to be. I wanted to be the intelligent, accomplished, hippie who made her own rules. And, I see myself now and I wonder if anyone sees glimmers of that woman peeking through the carefully created/developed in response to dire straights person I am most of the time. Deep down, I wish I had a guide to shedding this fearful outer shell and living the life I dream of. I tell myself(and I hope that it's true) that I am working toward that little by little. I just don't know if it's obvious that it's a continuing process from the outside or if I just appear the fool who believes she can be something she can't.
So, I'm struggling with that. I'm also struggling with feeling like too much of my life is filled up with "shoulds" instead of the things I want to do. Some of that comes from feeling tired of this job but some of it comes from continuing to feel responsible for parenting those who should have parented me instead. I'm torn between guilt at avoiding that obligation lately and relief that I'm able to and a feeling of elation at the times when obligations other than that seem to disappear, a thing that may be making me into a shitty friend. If I bail on something I planned with anyone reading this, I'm sorry--I'm just trying to find a balance somehow, some way.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
4.26.2011
Hands up if you like the random, list-type blogs! The rest of you: Sorry, but that's what you're getting.
1) Letting go of expectation, the illusion of control, and anything else similar to those things is the best feeling.
2) I got a summons for jury duty. I actually want picked! I could use that time to do some *serious* reading.
3) I registered for Pagan Spirit Gathering. That leaves, over the next two months, getting Hal's tie rod replaced and just getting the camping equipment I'll need together, expenditure wise. Suggestions on food for the week I'll be out in the woods are welcome.
4) I got to see the Munchkins briefly a couple weeks ago when I went to Marion for Emma's baptism. There's just never enough time with them.
5) I currently have about five different books at different stages in the reading process. I LOVE Sara Gruen and am flying through Ape House after devouring her first novel, Water for Elephants. Stranger in a Strange Land is another, very different story. Reading lots of non-fiction lately--how odd is that??
6) Peace seems to be growing exponentially with ever more time without being treated to my mother's bullying tactics of conversion.
7) I've been a bad jeerleader and book club participant lately but, at the same time, the Queer Book Club I started seems to be really taking off. I feel all accomplished about that.
8) I had to take a break from the walking/jogging that I was doing because of some inflammation in my hip but I'm ready to get back out there now. Oh, also, I was seduced into roller skating and didn't hate it.
9) Still on a hiatus from any romantic pursuits although there is some very interesting potential that could go either way depending on whether we can be in the same state for any length of time. This one... She definitely brings out the flirt in me and makes me forget a lot of my hangups and shyness. It's a distinctly different type of grin, what she inspires.
I think that's it for now. I make no promises but there may be more on the whole 'roller skating' thing soon.
1) Letting go of expectation, the illusion of control, and anything else similar to those things is the best feeling.
2) I got a summons for jury duty. I actually want picked! I could use that time to do some *serious* reading.
3) I registered for Pagan Spirit Gathering. That leaves, over the next two months, getting Hal's tie rod replaced and just getting the camping equipment I'll need together, expenditure wise. Suggestions on food for the week I'll be out in the woods are welcome.
4) I got to see the Munchkins briefly a couple weeks ago when I went to Marion for Emma's baptism. There's just never enough time with them.
5) I currently have about five different books at different stages in the reading process. I LOVE Sara Gruen and am flying through Ape House after devouring her first novel, Water for Elephants. Stranger in a Strange Land is another, very different story. Reading lots of non-fiction lately--how odd is that??
6) Peace seems to be growing exponentially with ever more time without being treated to my mother's bullying tactics of conversion.
7) I've been a bad jeerleader and book club participant lately but, at the same time, the Queer Book Club I started seems to be really taking off. I feel all accomplished about that.
8) I had to take a break from the walking/jogging that I was doing because of some inflammation in my hip but I'm ready to get back out there now. Oh, also, I was seduced into roller skating and didn't hate it.
9) Still on a hiatus from any romantic pursuits although there is some very interesting potential that could go either way depending on whether we can be in the same state for any length of time. This one... She definitely brings out the flirt in me and makes me forget a lot of my hangups and shyness. It's a distinctly different type of grin, what she inspires.
I think that's it for now. I make no promises but there may be more on the whole 'roller skating' thing soon.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
4.20.2011
Before Cornelius Eady Reads
Poetry is
Supposed to kill you.
A sudden, non-eroding
Clutching flash of death.
The mid-sex heart attack
While crying out your satiation.
Not
The silent creep of old age
Nursing homes and unturned calendar pages.
Poetry is
Supposed to kill you.
A sudden, non-eroding
Clutching flash of death.
The mid-sex heart attack
While crying out your satiation.
Not
The silent creep of old age
Nursing homes and unturned calendar pages.
Monday, April 4, 2011
4.4.2011
I set out this month to complete the Poem a Day challenge but I got stuck on the very first prompt. "How did you get here" I've repeated those words to myself over and over again since Friday. How *did* I get here? There are obvious answers in biology and genetics as well as in the material I read and the people I've surrounded myself with and been surrounded by. I still don't have a complete answer although the poem I wrote, Origins, attempts to answer some of what is implied in that question. (See my post from 7/30/10 for it) I got where I was until the time of my divorce by playing it safe and calling it something else. I stayed there out of fear--a deep seated fear of being who I was inside, the person I was taught was bad and defective, coupled with sheer terror at failing at marriage and being alone forever. It still amuses me on a certain level when people respond to me saying how long I was married with some kind of statement about it being an accomplishment. I suppose that might seem dismissive. After all, it does take strength to endure and hold on. It has to be weighed, though, against the motivation behind it, I think. To hold on out of fear of change to *anything*, is a negative behavior, in my opinion. Growth occurs through change, through taking risk. I am still not where I want to be in that regard but I'm moving toward it by inches (or so it feels some days).
I remember the little girl I was and I keep trying to eradicate some of the disdain I feel toward her. She was silly and light-hearted and wanted nothing more than to create, and to get to be in a world where people were happy. At a certain point, the effort to hang on to that began to seem foolish and, well, childish in a world that demanded an acceptance of responsibility. Thus develops an adult who finds it hard to stay put, to not seek constant escape in one form or another.
Over the weekend, it occurred to me that my greatest challenge now may be to return to the creativity that was so strangled from within and without for years and to stay put rather than seeking escape. Stay, stay, stay, I kept feeling a tiny voice say to me. I'm setting aside the books that I escaped into over and over again and pushing myself to focus on ones that ask me, instead, who this person holding the book really is. I'm signing another lease soon and listening to that voice. Since the last time I wrote, also, I'm feeling more level in general. Thanks, all, who kept that positive energy sent this way. More of it will continue to be appreciated.
<3
I remember the little girl I was and I keep trying to eradicate some of the disdain I feel toward her. She was silly and light-hearted and wanted nothing more than to create, and to get to be in a world where people were happy. At a certain point, the effort to hang on to that began to seem foolish and, well, childish in a world that demanded an acceptance of responsibility. Thus develops an adult who finds it hard to stay put, to not seek constant escape in one form or another.
Over the weekend, it occurred to me that my greatest challenge now may be to return to the creativity that was so strangled from within and without for years and to stay put rather than seeking escape. Stay, stay, stay, I kept feeling a tiny voice say to me. I'm setting aside the books that I escaped into over and over again and pushing myself to focus on ones that ask me, instead, who this person holding the book really is. I'm signing another lease soon and listening to that voice. Since the last time I wrote, also, I'm feeling more level in general. Thanks, all, who kept that positive energy sent this way. More of it will continue to be appreciated.
<3
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