ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Mon, Jun 28, 2010 at 12:46 AM
It's been 6 years since you left. Funny, it doesn't seem like 6, but
there it is.
You left March 5th 2004. We had my cousin's wedding to attend that
night! You couldn't have picked a worse time to leave!
Of course, you weren't worried about timing.
I woke up & went into the livingroom. Grandma & the cousins were
sitting around talking. It was complete numbness for everyone
apparently.
Some of them were carrying out furniture, Dad included & those who
weren't were sitting there talking.
I asked what was going on & you said you were leaving. I felt like I
was 3 again, & semi acted like it.
I followed you & Dad around the house asking if I could help with
anything. I couldn't, so I just kept wandering.
When you left Dad went with you & I thought he was crazy! Why was he
helping you move out when there were other people there to help???
That wasn't his job!
But even in the end he bent over backwards for you.
You took the good furniture & allowed it to waste in Grandma's basement!
But I don't care about that.
You didn't pay child support for becca & Dad let you get away with it
even though we were suffering!
But I don't care about that.
You left Dad with a $133000 loan up against the house, & now I have to pay rent!
But I don't care about that.
You blamed me for your divorce:
"Well, you're right. I'm not good enough for you or your sister or your father!"
But that only hurt a little. . .
You came into the house & attacked Dad verbally & physically, which
almost lead to your demise! (Which would have left me in prison thank
you!)
But that only hurts some.
You left becca & Dad in the dark! I had to carry their weight, plus my
own! I had to suck in all my pain & fake my way through it!
That hurt even more.
But the worst thing you did was rip my foundation out from under me!
& that I care about! That hurt, still hurts!!!
I could say all kinds of things to you, call you a bitch & a whore for
sleeping around on Dad while you were married!
But that won't solve anything.
You made me question my morals, my values! Everything I ever new, ever
believed in, you broke it! You crushed it, shattered it & still that
wasn't enough!
You had to jump on the shards of glass, use your heels to ground them
into the floor, make them disappear! Leave them lost, unreachable to
me!
& for that, I still hate you!
You left some of your clothes behind in the early days. Some of your
high heeled shoes & I sat in your closet inhaling the scent from those
clothes.
I held those shoes & remembered clomping around in them when I was a
little girl.
You said you were sorry, but then you screamed at me to get over it!
You said if your parents divorced when you were 3 & you got over it, I
could surely get over you & Dad!
But I couldn't for the longest time.
Even now I hate this house. We have a new mom, 2 new sisters, new
dogs, new cats, a "new life" as it were.
But this house still holds you in it. & the house across the field
where we used to live holds even more of you.
You seem to seep into everything!
Why can't you get out?? Why can't you leave me alone!!
I still cry when I hear "Family Portrait" from Pink. It's nearly
unbearable listening to Evanescence's "My Immortal".
& forget Mario Whinan's & P. Diddy's "Don't Wanna Know".
I can still hear becca singing:
"Oh mommy, we don't wanna know, if you're creepin' keep it on the low,
cuz our hearts just can't take it anymore!
Oh mommy, we don't wanna know."
& Britany's "Every Time" "Every time I try to fly I fall, without my
wings I feel so small".
I still cry. & I could go on forever with this list, but I won't.
There was a time when every little thing reminded me that you weren't
around & some days, I feel like I'm still back there.
Most days I feel ok, but the other days I don't.
I've given up talking to you, your hopeless!
You act like we should feel bad, like we're the ones who left.
Well screw you! You left us! Y.O.U. left us!
Then you got sick. Scleroderma, your going to die. Probably from the
drinking & smoking first though at this rate.
Sometimes I wish you were dead, then I could pretend you really loved
& missed me while you were gone, or even better, I could pretend that
you never wanted to leave, that you died & that's why you left, & it
wasn't your fault.
It was out of your hands. But that's not so.
I loved you. I remember your depression, I remember you crying, the
rape when you were a child.
I remember all that. How could I forget?
& it's the one thing that makes it hard for me to push you completely
out of my life.
I keep seeing that damned little girl! That scared, frightened, lonely
little girl! & she's me! She belongs to you, but I have my own & so it
makes it a million times harder for me to push it, you away!
I still hate you! But I still love you. I'll never figure out why, but I do.
You left me afraid of men, afraid I'd never gain your approval, afraid
of losing your love (which I never had), afraid to love others, to let
them in & take my guard down!
You left me clinging to broken blood stained memories even after everything!
You shook me when I pissed you off when I was little. You screamed at
me! Tried to control my thoughts, my feelings, to speak for me!
You tried to keep me locked up with you & keep me away from other
women because you were so insecure!
But I loved you! I'd have walked through fire for you! I did walk
through fire for you!
We all did! Just like "My Immortal" says!
We held your hand, we wiped away your tears, we tried to fight off all
your fears!
We were a family!! A FAMILY!!! & you took it away!
Divorcing Dad was one thing, but you divorced us!! We cramped your
style & you visit only when it works for you! We're the last "things"
to do on your "to-do" list!
You carried us! I thought that meant something! You gave birth to us!
Doesn't the fact that we came out of your body, that you heard our
hearts beat & counted our fingers & toes mean anything????
Some will blame it on your addiction to alcohol, but that's just a cop
out! You had quit drinking & smoking for 6 years & you started back up
because YOU chose to! Nobody held a gun to your head!
You wanted to be a teenager again, not that I know why, because your
teenage years sucked! But you chose it!
& yet, I still have the common decency to want to make sure you're
taken care of before you die.
I don't want you in a nursing home for fear they won't take care of
you like I would.
I hate you for tangling me up & I hate you for jumbling all my
thoughts & trying to run my life & control my relationships!
But I still love you.
m.o.m.
I will not bow to this anymore though. So if I see you I see you & if
I don't I don't.
If we talk we talk & if we don't we don't.
If you're proud of me great if not I don't care!
It may take me 6 more years to release all this agony I had to cover
up while helping Dad & becca, but I'll push through it one way or
another.
& once I'm gone, I'm gone. I'm not looking back & you can forget
having a phone number or a forwarding address, cuz it's not happening!
My whole life you've tried to control me, break my relationships up
(grandma & Dad, on the Dad score you failed, but grandma has her own
bs to apologize for)!
But you can rest assured you won't do it again. I won't give you the chance.
Michelle
Showing posts with label to. Show all posts
Showing posts with label to. Show all posts
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
To My Daughter
If you aren't interested in 'woo woo' SKIP THIS POST!
Dearest Olivia,
I have no idea where to begin with this. I've had an urge for quite some time to write this but have pushed it away. As much as I've learned about myself the past few years, about the power of positive thinking, affirmations etc, some things just still seem 'over the top.'
On Monday March 5th 2012 though, something happened that I COULDN'T ignore.
I was diagnosed as having polycystic ovarian syndrome *PCOS* back in my late teens. Radical hair growth on my face and rearend and weight gain suggested this. I could also say my flaming temper suggested it, but truth be told, I come from a long line of hot tempers so the truth is that probably didn't play as much of a role as I would like it to sometimes. In other words, I won't ever say: "The PCOS made me do it!" It's just not a defense. And as for the weight gain, your grandmother and great grandmother have had gastric bypass and stomach stapling respectively. Your great aunt and second cousins either are or have been overweight and so on it goes. So the truth is, I was given this diagnosis after two separate ultrasounds found NO cysts and because hormone tests revealed an elevated level of testosterone. I guess if it walks like a duck but doesn't quack like a duck *no cysts on ovaries* it's still a duck. Hopefully by the time you read this letter that won't be the case anymore.
This diagnosis also came on the heels of my missing period. I started on my 11th birthday, what a present!! and then just stopped abruptly. I was put on birth control but was so sick of taking pills I eventually quit them.
Aside from being told I had PCOS I wasn't told much of anything else other than: "You probably won't get Pregnant."
Add to this something entirely different. As a young teen I was also told that I had a 25% chance of having a baby with a Tessier Cleft, only not only would it be more severe than mine, it would also leave my Baby deaf on top of being blind and mentally disabled. That 25% chance was translated into a 1 in 4 chance, meaning if I had 4 Babies, it was likely that one of them would be born with my birth defect. I fought to hold onto hope as I ONLY DESIRED ONE Baby, just ONE!
So fast forward all these years later. It's March 5th 2012 around 3:20 in the afternoon and we're heading to my doctors appointment. I was having a recurring ear infection at the time and no matter what they did it just wouldn't go away! So we're on our way there when my Body just starts doing Her thing! I leaned up front and asked Rebecca if anything besides blood would come out of me at such a high volume. She suggested discharge but I intuitively new that wasn't it! Sure enough, when I got out of the car your Grandfather said I'd left a stain on his backseat! Lol. He also yelled: "Your pants are dark! Noone will know!"
Truth be told, that wasn't my first thought. My first thought was: "I can get Pregnant!!! I! CAN! GET! PREGNAAAAANT!!" I had no partner at the time nor even any prospects for one but I didn't care!
Whereas most women back then dreaded their periods I was ecstatic!! I wanted to run into the office shouting at the top of my lungs! Lol! I didn't do that of course, but I wanted to!
Ever since I was young I had Desired a Baby so desperately that I had a doll Melissa whom I attempted to breastfeed! After that I would tell anyone who listened I was going to name my daughter Aleata! I'm still not sure where the name came from, but it stuck for a long time. I volunteered at a daycare center in high school, hated that my best friend, your Aunt Holly could get babysitting gigs and I couldn't, and even felt flutters in my stomach. My stomach would flutter and flip like you were already in there!
That day when I got my period for the first time in to many years to count, the fluttering came back! I was so excited to think my Body had come back of Her own accord! I hadn't taken any pills *I DO NOT begrudge those who do and signed petitions often when birth control and the right to it was under threat* but I myself had rejected it in favor of Goddess and Universe and it had worked in my favor!
Today is Saturday March 10th, and I'm excitedly awaiting my next chapter.
I started reading a book called "Calling in the One" by Catherine Woodward Thomas a couple months ago and it is designed to 'call in your soulmate.' I had no idea whether or not it would really work, especially considering my living conditions at the time, severely strapped finances and relying on your Grandfather for transportation, which meant I was never alone, nor did I frequent trendy cafes or other places where I might have met a partner, but the other Women in my study group predicted changes for me anyway, and I have to confess I'm now wondering if this wasn't one of those changes.
I also let go of your grandmother in love around this time *thanks to the book* and wrote letters to Congress members, rockstars, movie stars, journalists and anyone I thought could or would help. I started making lifestyle changes, one of which involved getting on the treadmill for at least an hour each day. You would have had to know the old me to know that this WAS NOT something I would have done back in the day! I called it exercise instead of a lifestyle change and complained bitterly that I HATED exercise! It was 'the E word' and off limits the way other people make words like damn and shit off limits! Lol. But reading that book changed me in subtle ways and getting my period again changed me in bigger ways. I was ELATED! ECSTATIC! IN ABSOLUTE ECSTASY over it all!! I wanted to roll around like our family Cat Tigger did after we gave him catnip!
Anyway, I suppose there is no real closing to this letter, I just had to put this all down in hopes that you will someday read it and know just how much you were Desired and loved. I talk to you often when I'm on the treadmill and feel like quitting. I talk to you when I'm drinking a half cup of chocolate milk instead of a giant glass that holds 2 and a half cups. I talk to you when I'm contemplating the 6 pack of Reese Peanut Buttercup Eggs they have out for Easter and when I'm longing for an ice cold can of Coke! And believe me, I do long occasionally. I talk to you when I'm foregoing McDonalds and Tony's and Panda Express and I talk to you when I'm reading about preparing for a Pregnancy and having a preconception visit with a doctor. I haven't even found the right provider yet, but I know I will!
Finally, I talk to you when I'm reading about the oldest sperm bank in America and considering picking a donor. Part of me wonders if this is selfish and thinks of what it would have been like without your Grandfather around. Another part of me aches for you so badly and fears I won't conceive you until I'm 'old' and old to me is 30! It's 30 because at 35 chances of birthdefects begin to increase and with my PCOS and no prospective partners I fear that by the time Goddess provides for me my chances will be gone! It is at that precise moment when I realize I'm coming from a place of fear and close down the sperm donor website. I have bookmarked it but won't be back until I can say I'm there because I Desire to be and not because I'm afraid. I'm there out of love and not out of fear.
With All My Love,
Mom
Dearest Olivia,
I have no idea where to begin with this. I've had an urge for quite some time to write this but have pushed it away. As much as I've learned about myself the past few years, about the power of positive thinking, affirmations etc, some things just still seem 'over the top.'
On Monday March 5th 2012 though, something happened that I COULDN'T ignore.
I was diagnosed as having polycystic ovarian syndrome *PCOS* back in my late teens. Radical hair growth on my face and rearend and weight gain suggested this. I could also say my flaming temper suggested it, but truth be told, I come from a long line of hot tempers so the truth is that probably didn't play as much of a role as I would like it to sometimes. In other words, I won't ever say: "The PCOS made me do it!" It's just not a defense. And as for the weight gain, your grandmother and great grandmother have had gastric bypass and stomach stapling respectively. Your great aunt and second cousins either are or have been overweight and so on it goes. So the truth is, I was given this diagnosis after two separate ultrasounds found NO cysts and because hormone tests revealed an elevated level of testosterone. I guess if it walks like a duck but doesn't quack like a duck *no cysts on ovaries* it's still a duck. Hopefully by the time you read this letter that won't be the case anymore.
This diagnosis also came on the heels of my missing period. I started on my 11th birthday, what a present!! and then just stopped abruptly. I was put on birth control but was so sick of taking pills I eventually quit them.
Aside from being told I had PCOS I wasn't told much of anything else other than: "You probably won't get Pregnant."
Add to this something entirely different. As a young teen I was also told that I had a 25% chance of having a baby with a Tessier Cleft, only not only would it be more severe than mine, it would also leave my Baby deaf on top of being blind and mentally disabled. That 25% chance was translated into a 1 in 4 chance, meaning if I had 4 Babies, it was likely that one of them would be born with my birth defect. I fought to hold onto hope as I ONLY DESIRED ONE Baby, just ONE!
So fast forward all these years later. It's March 5th 2012 around 3:20 in the afternoon and we're heading to my doctors appointment. I was having a recurring ear infection at the time and no matter what they did it just wouldn't go away! So we're on our way there when my Body just starts doing Her thing! I leaned up front and asked Rebecca if anything besides blood would come out of me at such a high volume. She suggested discharge but I intuitively new that wasn't it! Sure enough, when I got out of the car your Grandfather said I'd left a stain on his backseat! Lol. He also yelled: "Your pants are dark! Noone will know!"
Truth be told, that wasn't my first thought. My first thought was: "I can get Pregnant!!! I! CAN! GET! PREGNAAAAANT!!" I had no partner at the time nor even any prospects for one but I didn't care!
Whereas most women back then dreaded their periods I was ecstatic!! I wanted to run into the office shouting at the top of my lungs! Lol! I didn't do that of course, but I wanted to!
Ever since I was young I had Desired a Baby so desperately that I had a doll Melissa whom I attempted to breastfeed! After that I would tell anyone who listened I was going to name my daughter Aleata! I'm still not sure where the name came from, but it stuck for a long time. I volunteered at a daycare center in high school, hated that my best friend, your Aunt Holly could get babysitting gigs and I couldn't, and even felt flutters in my stomach. My stomach would flutter and flip like you were already in there!
That day when I got my period for the first time in to many years to count, the fluttering came back! I was so excited to think my Body had come back of Her own accord! I hadn't taken any pills *I DO NOT begrudge those who do and signed petitions often when birth control and the right to it was under threat* but I myself had rejected it in favor of Goddess and Universe and it had worked in my favor!
Today is Saturday March 10th, and I'm excitedly awaiting my next chapter.
I started reading a book called "Calling in the One" by Catherine Woodward Thomas a couple months ago and it is designed to 'call in your soulmate.' I had no idea whether or not it would really work, especially considering my living conditions at the time, severely strapped finances and relying on your Grandfather for transportation, which meant I was never alone, nor did I frequent trendy cafes or other places where I might have met a partner, but the other Women in my study group predicted changes for me anyway, and I have to confess I'm now wondering if this wasn't one of those changes.
I also let go of your grandmother in love around this time *thanks to the book* and wrote letters to Congress members, rockstars, movie stars, journalists and anyone I thought could or would help. I started making lifestyle changes, one of which involved getting on the treadmill for at least an hour each day. You would have had to know the old me to know that this WAS NOT something I would have done back in the day! I called it exercise instead of a lifestyle change and complained bitterly that I HATED exercise! It was 'the E word' and off limits the way other people make words like damn and shit off limits! Lol. But reading that book changed me in subtle ways and getting my period again changed me in bigger ways. I was ELATED! ECSTATIC! IN ABSOLUTE ECSTASY over it all!! I wanted to roll around like our family Cat Tigger did after we gave him catnip!
Anyway, I suppose there is no real closing to this letter, I just had to put this all down in hopes that you will someday read it and know just how much you were Desired and loved. I talk to you often when I'm on the treadmill and feel like quitting. I talk to you when I'm drinking a half cup of chocolate milk instead of a giant glass that holds 2 and a half cups. I talk to you when I'm contemplating the 6 pack of Reese Peanut Buttercup Eggs they have out for Easter and when I'm longing for an ice cold can of Coke! And believe me, I do long occasionally. I talk to you when I'm foregoing McDonalds and Tony's and Panda Express and I talk to you when I'm reading about preparing for a Pregnancy and having a preconception visit with a doctor. I haven't even found the right provider yet, but I know I will!
Finally, I talk to you when I'm reading about the oldest sperm bank in America and considering picking a donor. Part of me wonders if this is selfish and thinks of what it would have been like without your Grandfather around. Another part of me aches for you so badly and fears I won't conceive you until I'm 'old' and old to me is 30! It's 30 because at 35 chances of birthdefects begin to increase and with my PCOS and no prospective partners I fear that by the time Goddess provides for me my chances will be gone! It is at that precise moment when I realize I'm coming from a place of fear and close down the sperm donor website. I have bookmarked it but won't be back until I can say I'm there because I Desire to be and not because I'm afraid. I'm there out of love and not out of fear.
With All My Love,
Mom
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Week 1: Lesson 6, Imagining My Lover
I went into this late night meditation with a perfect memory of what
my Desire was. . .
I managed to sit on the floor for a full 10 seconds or so before my
mind kicked in and I wasn't thinking about my soulmate.
I started thinking about my ear infection and whether it was
completely gone, that it was interesting that my doc put me on
steroids to 'dry me out' *I have fluid behind my eardrum so kept
hearing a whooshing sound in my ear* since I'd never heard of anyone
being put on steroids before for an ear infection. I'd already done a
course of antibiotics.
Anyway then I started thinking about this commercial break
80scommercialvault posted on youtube.com quite a while back.
The ad break is from MTV back in the 90's, and one of the commercials
is a public service announcement about drinking and driving. "Old
Ainsign" is playing, the car crashes and the narrator says: "Don't
play with death. . . don't drink and drive!"
Sidenote here, I'm fully blind, no light perception even, and have
been terrified of public service announcements since I was a little
girl. I mean terrified to the point of waking my mom or Dad up at 3AM
in a panic or refusing to get out of the bathtub until a scary psa got
over. In our old house the bathroom was just off the livingroom so I
could hear it from the tub.
I managed to push through the fear and even tried to hear my voice
saying: "I'd like to tell you a secret. . ." in line with imagining
telling my soulmate a secret about myself, thinking if I could imagine
myself saying the words I could pull myself back on track. No dice.
Then I started thinking about how hard my floor is, how I ought to
vacuum it soon, how my hands and feet are cold. . . their always cold
in this house! Dad keeps temps at around 70, and with our house being
so big the heat whether from the fireplace or the furnace doesn't warm
the entire house so the bedrooms are almost ALWAYS cold in the winter.
So cold that we all sleep with several blankets sheets and comforters
on our beds. I currently have flannel sheets and two comforters.
Then about my posture, I'm not sitting up FULLY straight. . . I moved
my arms from my sides to resting on my knees. I called it off after
that.
I'm thinking maybe if I go back to doing 'Morning Pages' from Julia
Cameron's "The Artists Way" maybe that'll help.
Interestingly enough, when I spoke to one of our members a couple
weeks ago though, I was doing much better then and I hadn't meditated.
She just told me about the assignment itself and I said something to
the effect of:
"I imagine I'd feel giddy! Ecstasy would run through me! Elation! I'd
Desire to stay with that person and not leave their side *I would of
course*, but the feelings of excitement and joy would be such that I
would Desire heartily to stay in their presence because I'd feel so
'up!!' when I was around them I wouldn't Desire the 'come down effect'
that happens."
For example: when I'm going to a concert I get excited!! I mean I wake
up after only 4 or 5 hours of sleep thinking I NEED to sleep longer
but can't because I'm so excited about what the night holds. I spend
all day waiting waiting waiting! The closer it gets the more euphoric
I get and by the time we're climbing out of my Dad's car and walking
towards the building I've got butterflies whooping in my stomach! I
hear the music pounding and people talking cluttered near the open
door and smell the cigarette smoke from the designated smoking area
outside and feel like sprinting past everyone into the building! When
we get in the first door and I'm standing with my ID out waiting to
have it checked and get a wristband put on it's almost too much for me
to bear! It's like my brain is on overload and almost shuts down as a
coping mechanism. It's almost too much. When we get our IDS' checked
and wristbands on and head inside I smell smoke and alcohol and hear
tons of hooting and hollering, some people are already drunk and
though I'm not a huge fan of being around drunk people the euphoria of
knowing I'll meet the band after they play outweighs any feeling of
discomfort or nervousness the drunk people would normally evoke in me.
Then there's being in the mosh pit itself, the feel of bodies on
bodies, but not slamming or crowd surfing. . . rather the people that
tend to cluster around me are more LIKE me so our bodies rub together
and bounce up and down and sway side to side together. It's like we're
moving as one person, one body, of one mind and one feeling! All is
forgotten, whether it's an aching ankle or the need for a bathroom,
whatever it is, I forget it. After the show is over I hit another even
higher state of euphoria waiting for the band to come out. I RUN to
the bathroom and pray the whole time that the line won't be too large
by the time I get there. While I needed the restroom, it's also
keeping me away from my true Desire, too be near the band, hug them,
shake their hands, thank them. In the case of a lead singer it's
keeping me from sharing more than just a 'hi' with them, keeping me
from connecting on a wildly deep level with them, hearing their voice,
touching and being touched by them *whether it be physically or
emotionally and it's almost always both*.
After the meet and greet as we're leaving, there's a part of me that
longs to do it all over again, too stay longer spend more time, get
closer. . .
So I write all this to say I imagine that is what being with my
soulmate would be like. Only, since I'd be with them forever, the ebb
and flow would be different. There would be concert highs brawn out
for weeks followed by a plateau for weeks or months followed by
another great high.
The plateau happens in the concert when a band comes out that I'm not
interested in. And as I said, when we're leaving part of me is longing
for it to never end. Another part of me goes into review mode and I
usually can't come home and go straight to sleep. I have to eat, to
relax to evaluate everything the singer said and everything I said.
As for that blasted psa, I know it had nothing to do with the
meditation at hand. . . however, if I felt like analyzing, and I do, I
analyze EVERYTHING, I'd say it represents my fear of intimacy, of
closeness, of dropping my guard to ANYONE who doesn't already know me.
The trick about me is: I can tell you anything and I mean ANYTHING.
Whether we're online or offline, I can tell you anything! But the next
time you call me I might not call back. The next time you write me, I
might not write back. So I run before you can run from me. I appear as
an open book and will tell anyone anything, but where as you might
think: "She really trusts me. I feel honored." I might be thinking:
"Ok, said too much, time to make a break for it!"
This doesn't always happen and it happens with women much less than
men, but it still happens.
my Desire was. . .
I managed to sit on the floor for a full 10 seconds or so before my
mind kicked in and I wasn't thinking about my soulmate.
I started thinking about my ear infection and whether it was
completely gone, that it was interesting that my doc put me on
steroids to 'dry me out' *I have fluid behind my eardrum so kept
hearing a whooshing sound in my ear* since I'd never heard of anyone
being put on steroids before for an ear infection. I'd already done a
course of antibiotics.
Anyway then I started thinking about this commercial break
80scommercialvault posted on youtube.com quite a while back.
The ad break is from MTV back in the 90's, and one of the commercials
is a public service announcement about drinking and driving. "Old
Ainsign" is playing, the car crashes and the narrator says: "Don't
play with death. . . don't drink and drive!"
Sidenote here, I'm fully blind, no light perception even, and have
been terrified of public service announcements since I was a little
girl. I mean terrified to the point of waking my mom or Dad up at 3AM
in a panic or refusing to get out of the bathtub until a scary psa got
over. In our old house the bathroom was just off the livingroom so I
could hear it from the tub.
I managed to push through the fear and even tried to hear my voice
saying: "I'd like to tell you a secret. . ." in line with imagining
telling my soulmate a secret about myself, thinking if I could imagine
myself saying the words I could pull myself back on track. No dice.
Then I started thinking about how hard my floor is, how I ought to
vacuum it soon, how my hands and feet are cold. . . their always cold
in this house! Dad keeps temps at around 70, and with our house being
so big the heat whether from the fireplace or the furnace doesn't warm
the entire house so the bedrooms are almost ALWAYS cold in the winter.
So cold that we all sleep with several blankets sheets and comforters
on our beds. I currently have flannel sheets and two comforters.
Then about my posture, I'm not sitting up FULLY straight. . . I moved
my arms from my sides to resting on my knees. I called it off after
that.
I'm thinking maybe if I go back to doing 'Morning Pages' from Julia
Cameron's "The Artists Way" maybe that'll help.
Interestingly enough, when I spoke to one of our members a couple
weeks ago though, I was doing much better then and I hadn't meditated.
She just told me about the assignment itself and I said something to
the effect of:
"I imagine I'd feel giddy! Ecstasy would run through me! Elation! I'd
Desire to stay with that person and not leave their side *I would of
course*, but the feelings of excitement and joy would be such that I
would Desire heartily to stay in their presence because I'd feel so
'up!!' when I was around them I wouldn't Desire the 'come down effect'
that happens."
For example: when I'm going to a concert I get excited!! I mean I wake
up after only 4 or 5 hours of sleep thinking I NEED to sleep longer
but can't because I'm so excited about what the night holds. I spend
all day waiting waiting waiting! The closer it gets the more euphoric
I get and by the time we're climbing out of my Dad's car and walking
towards the building I've got butterflies whooping in my stomach! I
hear the music pounding and people talking cluttered near the open
door and smell the cigarette smoke from the designated smoking area
outside and feel like sprinting past everyone into the building! When
we get in the first door and I'm standing with my ID out waiting to
have it checked and get a wristband put on it's almost too much for me
to bear! It's like my brain is on overload and almost shuts down as a
coping mechanism. It's almost too much. When we get our IDS' checked
and wristbands on and head inside I smell smoke and alcohol and hear
tons of hooting and hollering, some people are already drunk and
though I'm not a huge fan of being around drunk people the euphoria of
knowing I'll meet the band after they play outweighs any feeling of
discomfort or nervousness the drunk people would normally evoke in me.
Then there's being in the mosh pit itself, the feel of bodies on
bodies, but not slamming or crowd surfing. . . rather the people that
tend to cluster around me are more LIKE me so our bodies rub together
and bounce up and down and sway side to side together. It's like we're
moving as one person, one body, of one mind and one feeling! All is
forgotten, whether it's an aching ankle or the need for a bathroom,
whatever it is, I forget it. After the show is over I hit another even
higher state of euphoria waiting for the band to come out. I RUN to
the bathroom and pray the whole time that the line won't be too large
by the time I get there. While I needed the restroom, it's also
keeping me away from my true Desire, too be near the band, hug them,
shake their hands, thank them. In the case of a lead singer it's
keeping me from sharing more than just a 'hi' with them, keeping me
from connecting on a wildly deep level with them, hearing their voice,
touching and being touched by them *whether it be physically or
emotionally and it's almost always both*.
After the meet and greet as we're leaving, there's a part of me that
longs to do it all over again, too stay longer spend more time, get
closer. . .
So I write all this to say I imagine that is what being with my
soulmate would be like. Only, since I'd be with them forever, the ebb
and flow would be different. There would be concert highs brawn out
for weeks followed by a plateau for weeks or months followed by
another great high.
The plateau happens in the concert when a band comes out that I'm not
interested in. And as I said, when we're leaving part of me is longing
for it to never end. Another part of me goes into review mode and I
usually can't come home and go straight to sleep. I have to eat, to
relax to evaluate everything the singer said and everything I said.
As for that blasted psa, I know it had nothing to do with the
meditation at hand. . . however, if I felt like analyzing, and I do, I
analyze EVERYTHING, I'd say it represents my fear of intimacy, of
closeness, of dropping my guard to ANYONE who doesn't already know me.
The trick about me is: I can tell you anything and I mean ANYTHING.
Whether we're online or offline, I can tell you anything! But the next
time you call me I might not call back. The next time you write me, I
might not write back. So I run before you can run from me. I appear as
an open book and will tell anyone anything, but where as you might
think: "She really trusts me. I feel honored." I might be thinking:
"Ok, said too much, time to make a break for it!"
This doesn't always happen and it happens with women much less than
men, but it still happens.
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