Dream Into Me
February 26, 2022 § Leave a comment
I’ve been having super intense dreams about you. They make me not want to wake up. I feel myself tread lightly in them, walking on eggshells, desperate not to upset you. Unfortunately, I feel the same sense of dismissiveness in the dreams that I get from you in real life. I wish I could shut off my brain. Flip the switch that tells it not to think about you, in real life or dream land. It encircles and suffocates me, like I’m under water and I can’t swim. I gasp for air, but all I take in is more longing, more sadness, more pain. I want nothing from you and yet, I want it all. But you cannot give anything, won’t give anything, don’t want to give…anything. I wring the yearning and desperation out from my body but I can’t seem to keep my brain from absorbing you. Your touch is gone but everything else indelibly remains.
Writing Out Loud: Six Weeks
February 16, 2022 § Leave a comment
I should have known it was going to be destructive. The intensity was present from the moment we met. It made me as uncomfortable then as it does now. Except now, my eyes are open wide and I understand the dynamic happening between us. The push and pull of it, one of us craving intimacy, one of us actively avoiding it, is maddening.
Six weeks. Six weeks was all it took for that intensity to explode and leave me feeling lost and confused. The worst part is there’s no communication about any of it. Any attempts are met with arrogance and condescension. I know now it’s no longer okay. It was never okay.
It’s so painful to untangle oneself from something so intense. Despite that, my mind has been opened to possibilities and relationships that wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for this dynamic and for that, I’m appreciative. Six weeks was all it took to upend my life. 💔
Emotional Validation
December 1, 2012 § Leave a comment
If I could express what I’m feeling right now it would be a vast sense of emptiness. It doesn’t feel like one giant hole but a million tiny pinpricks. My body is covered with them and I imagine people can see right through me, as if an eyeball peering through a keyhole. But you haven’t seen inside of me, only through me. The secrets I keep hidden deep inside are too complex for even me to sort through so how can I expect someone else to start digging around in that mess. But I don’t want to erode away. I seek emotional validation. I think we all do. I just don’t understand why, for it to be worthy, it must come from outside of us. We all want to feel accepted, to be ourselves and to safely share our feelings and thoughts. We often do a lot of invalidating by engaging in negative self-talk. I think this is one of the most damaging things we can do to our psyche and yet it happens so often and it is so difficult to change. I spend a lot of time attempting to modify my thought patterns. It’s challenging but it can be done. Or so I’ve been told. I jump to conclusions a lot. And those conclusions are almost never based on facts or reality. It almost always has something to do with interpersonal relationships. I am certain that when a person says she is going to call and doesn’t, it is because I’m an awful, smelly, turd of a human being who is neither fun to be around or engaging to talk with and she’d rather devote the evening hanging upside down by her ankles reading Latin and drinking concrete through a straw than spend a couple hours in my presence. So when she finally does call and apologizes for not calling sooner because she had to spend the afternoon taking care of a sick grandparent or cooking at a homeless shelter I consider what needless suffering I put myself through in negative thoughts. The process of thinking positively about oneself is just as simple as it is to think negatively. The tough part is believing it.
The List
November 17, 2012 § Leave a comment
A single moment. Or a culmination of many. Regardless of how much you hold your breath, waiting, almost craving for the bubble to pop at which point the time will come to say to yourself, I predicted you’d been in an incoherent messy heap on the floor. It’s the wonder and joy of listening to another person nicely parse it all out for you. Something you are desperate to achieve but cannot, holding back because if just one more piece slips out, the entire fragile works comes unhinged and shatters. This time…beyond repair. On the edge of sobs. You, so unlike you. Skating around the emotions because it’s what I do best, or at least, it’s the only thing I can think of to do. And the tedious shrillness of it all grates me this time. Different than the rest. Someone did tell me to make it go away. I’m not sure who to believe.
You are fucking brilliant. I lay here, listening to your mind working, unsure if what I’m hearing is created solely for me or if it’s been tucked away in that dusty file cabinet in the back of your brain labeled “pretty girls”. I know men can get hurt; I’ve hurt a lot of them. I give what I get. And because I’ve gotten so much my giving has been elevated to that level most find themselves alone at for a very long time. It’s certainly doesn’t bother me, although I feel a couch session coming on; forgive me if I’m wrong.
You think you know me. I’m torn between giving you that opportunity or to allow myself to let go and find out. If I don’t know what I’m getting, I don’t know what to give.
So far you’ve achieved the following from my list:
smile.
make me laugh.
use your hands.
smell great.
say my name.
dance.
look into my eyes.
listen and hear.
don’t think too much.
give kissing a chance.
don’t spend all of your time on the “usual” suspects.
read a book.
be true.
be honest.
be yourself.
Not bad.
I know the support, for both, was critical. You know I’ll be here for you.
Smitten
November 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
I have simultaneously longed to write this post while dreading it. I think it is because it is going to make me sound conceited and a tad bit neurotic. But this part of my life has been so all consuming that if I don’t think it through and get some perspective I may find myself on the edge of a very steep cliff with no where to go but down. So I guess with that fabulous build-up, here it is.
It’s about dating. I know, groan. Another crazy girl story with jumping to conclusions and making mountains out of molehills as the action scenes. Just the fact that I’m writing about this demonstrates my insecurity and yet the compulsion is too strong to stop. I finally met someone that makes me swoon. I mean literally, I’m smitten. It has only been a couple of months but I’m the kind of girl that knows exactly what she wants and when it’s not there, I don’t keep looking for it. I know almost immediately on the first date if I want to see the person again or not. While I haven’t been on too many dates this year, it has been exclusively nothing but not, until now.
When I am with him, it is like we’re the only two people on the planet. Not only am I incredibly physically attracted to him, he is charming and smart and terribly clever; like I said, I’m smitten. He is a single dad and I adore how dedicated he is to his son. I also admire and respect his work ethic as his job takes him out of town almost every week, making it extremely difficult to have any semblance of a normal life. It is clear to me he is a genuine person of substance who is independent and doesn’t need someone else to validate his life. He and I are very similar in that respect. When we’re together, he says and does all the right things. When we’re together, he is generous, kind and thoughtful. When we’re together, he makes me feel like there’s no where else he’d rather be. When we’re together.
The problem is that those together times are becoming more infrequent and in between the times I do see him, I almost never hear from him unless I initiate the contact. No texts or calls. Maybe once in a while I get a tweet. I am a fairly confident and secure person but no contact whatsoever until he deems it convenient can unnerve even the most independent goddess. While he has told me that he likes me, his actions or lack of them, indicate differently so I’m really unsure about where I stand with him. I am not sure if what he’s doing is “normal” dating behavior for him and he sees nothing wrong with going three, four or five days without contacting me. This is where the neurotic part comes in. I haven’t dated in a long time and have never been one to really take the slow approach so perhaps this is how one who does take it slow behaves. Perhaps I need to adjust my thinking but I can’t help but wonder about the incongruity of his actions when we’re together versus when we’re apart.
While most everyone has their baggage, me notwithstanding, I am a confident, independent, intelligent, accomplished professional woman who has raised an amazing child and continues to evolve and grow as a human being. I’m proud of who I am and I would hope whoever I’m with would be proud of me as well. I’m what some might consider a “catch”. This is where I start to sound conceited. But I believe in who I am and what I have to offer. Which is why I don’t understand the feeling of rejection I’m getting from him. I can feel the distancing happening and it’s painful. I expect that at this point in this “relationship” he should have the compassion and courtesy to tell me in person. There’s nothing for me to do but to watch it unfold. I’m sure you’re asking yourself, why not just talk to him? I have been trying to do that for weeks but I can’t get him alone and in a space where a conversation can occur. I’m not giving up just yet but I see the writing on the wall.
If you’re reading this, call me.
Hope
November 14, 2012 § 2 Comments
Lack of inspiration and limited time have kept me from writing lately. I started my new job as a psychotherapist last week and I’ve been spending a lot of time learning and observing. It’s fascinating work and I cannot believe I get to do it every day. I have finally achieved contentedness, possible verging on happiness. My life is amazing and I’m finally at a point where I’m comfortable with who I am, what I do and how I impact other people. The one thing, however I have been struggling with a lot lately is just being myself. And that’s very disconcerting because I should be the most at ease with myself; no one knows me better than I do.
What it means is that I’m hyper conscious of everything I say and do, or don’t say and do. I want everyone I meet to see hope coming from me. Hope calms people, makes them feel comfortable and gives them a sense that everything will be alright. That’s important when we live in a world of chaos. And not just for people with mental illness. Everyone struggles at times with sadness, anxiety, anger and a myriad of emotions that interfere with daily living. Life as an adult is challenging.
So I’m very cognizant of how I interact with everyone and that can be problematic because I know I’m not going to appeal to everyone I meet. I’m sensitive and that rejection is painful but I realize that is the issue of the individual person and not due to my lack of care or concern.
Still the anxiety that comes along with saying or doing the wrong thing (perceived or otherwise) can be overwhelming, almost to the point of paralysis. I work through that the best way I know how: acceptance. Accept the fact that not everyone will like me. That is terribly hard. Not only do I want to be likable but I want that likability to translate into allowing the other person to feel better about themselves. Maybe I try too hard and sometimes that shows through. I personally think that boosting a person’s self worth through how I treat them creates hope, for them and for me.
I Voted
October 31, 2012 § 3 Comments
I’m going to write about politics. I know that I shouldn’t but I cast my vote early today and it was a very difficult decision for me. I have always felt that my political story was written by virtue of the nature of my career choice as a social worker and counselor. Social programs are the way I help my clients. They are the way I pay my mortgage and feed my family. But government fiscal policies leave me feeling just plain icky as I watch the our national debt sky rocket. This is why I refer to myself as a “hand-wringing liberal”. But overall, my investment level in politics has been low. I do not seek out confrontation with hardcore political types because my knowledge of the actual issues and, to be brutally honest, a thorough understanding of my own beliefs, is vague. The fact is my apathy was stronger than my interest. And why should I care because I have a built-in reason for voting the way I do. Seems pretty easy. And that is the problem. I do not do easy. This is a significant election and the easy way doesn’t seem appropriate right now. I do not take the easy way in most everything else that I do so why should I leave this choice up to an expectation of some nebulous concept that dictates how I should vote?
I decided to change that this time around. I did my homework and not just on the talking points. I researched the party platforms, established which issues I truly do care about and discovered which party, and viable candidate, aligns most closely with the way I believe. And still, even with all this information, my little black marker hovered over those ovals for President. The seconds ticked by and I was acutely aware of those in the room noticing my hesitation. Consequently, I was the only person under sixty there and Lady with the Cat Eye Glasses had her face all squinched up waiting for me to vacate the little voting cube. I peeked over the top of the barrier and made eye contact with her. She quickly looked away and thankfully another booth opened and she scurried over to steal it from Guy with Suspenders. Turning my full attention back to the ovals I asked myself one question, am I better off now than I was four years ago? After answering truthfully, without hesitation, I made my choice. I want to say that in that moment my apathy vanished. My research and reading and investigation advanced my understanding and knowledge more than relying on my gut but in the end, I had the right answer all along.
Best Friends Forever
October 30, 2012 § 2 Comments
I was married once. My marriage disintegrated because of a combination of misgivings or misfortunes or however one chooses to mischaracterize it. I do accept some responsibility but only so far as it relates to my youth and the fragile psyche with which I entered into that terribly unhealthy relationship. But the philosophy that I ascribe to remains that all experiences have shaped who I am and obviously, if I had not married I would not have my son. But this isn’t about my marriage because, despite the fact that a hardness of my heart persists which has overshadowed all relationships since, it has been over for sixteen years and no sense of nostalgia or bitterness or anger remains. This is about my best friend Kristine, who, we joke, I was awarded custody of in the divorce. Kristine is my sister-in-law. My ex-husband’s sister has been my closest confidant for almost twenty years. The precariousness of her situation is not lost on me and I am amazed at how well she maintains her loyalties without throwing either her brother or me under the bus. She is my support system and I never forget to thank her for that. Everyone loves to be around her because she has a way of making people feel comfortable and good about themselves. While Kristine doesn’t need to be the center of attention she often is and she engages others brilliantly through her generous spirit and larger-than-life personality. It is only when we are alone that I see how vulnerable she can be and how the weight of life can tamp down that bubbly, mesmerizing strength. She is the one person in the world who accepts me unconditionally, without expecting anything in return, and many times I take that for granted. Yesterday she told me that she had a terrible nightmare in which I had taken my own life and she was left to deal with my son. She said the feeling of grief was so palpable and so overwhelming in the dream that, for a second, she thought it was real. She called to make sure I was alright. While I still might be able to function without my best friend, life wouldn’t nearly be as joyful or as fulfilling or as crazy. Kristine is the spark to my fuel and I love her for her willingness to risk getting burned and still stand by my side.
Legacy
October 28, 2012 § Leave a comment
Friday was my son’s twentieth birthday. My only child is a constant joy in my life and every single day I wonder how I raised such a brilliant, warm, charming, ambitious, polite and engaging person who continues to amaze me every single day. I was so young when he was born – only nineteen – and I didn’t truly understand the gift that I had been given. In fact, it wasn’t until he became a teenager and no longer needed me that my eyes were opened to just how significant being his mother meant. I would have no more bedtime stories or snuggles. No more kisses just because. No more first days of school or masterpieces to hang on the refrigerator. I would no longer be the first person he would hug at the end of a really bad day or talk to when his day was great. I wouldn’t be seated in the front row at Christmas pageants or holding his dinosaur-costumed hand as we walk through the neighborhood Trick-or-Treating. I thought I had more time. I thought he would be my little boy for much longer. But he’s not, he’s a young man now and that time is gone forever. But the joy I experienced as a young mother is heightened ten-fold because I truly treasure all of those childhood moments now and see the man he’s become, and continues to develop into. It’s a different kind of relationship now, one of mutual respect and love, and while I still get an unsolicited hug or kiss on the cheek, I know he is as proud of me as I am of him.
Moving Toward Fear
October 26, 2012 § Leave a comment
I ventured outside of my comfort zone today and attended a political event where Vice President Joe Biden was supposed to be the speaker. A friend of mine invited me and because I enjoy the company of said friend and would like to have more of it, I jumped at the chance. (Perhaps more on that later.) It wasn’t because I was too terribly interested in the Veep rambling on about Big Bird and binders full of women and horses and bayonets. No, I can get that kind of rhetoric sitting in front of my laptop licking the Cheeto dust from my fingers and downing half a two-liter of Orange Crush. I decided to go because life isn’t going to wait. If I want to really experience life then I need to get out and live it, not passively sit back and hope it’s going to call me over and make me the captain of its kickball team. I love my life and all of my achievements and intelligence notwithstanding, I lack a certain level of confidence to put myself out there and make things happen. Lots of people have said to me, you seem to have it all together, you’re so confident and you make it look so easy. Making it look easy is extremely hard. And I am by far my worst critic, as most of us are. It doesn’t stop me from pushing forward. And I will continue to seek out people and events and experiences that buoy that confidence. What’s important is to begin with a solid foundation of self-worth. The power of belief is critical. Believe in who you are and others will believe too. No one else can make that happen, and I wouldn’t want them to. Don’t look down and shuffle your feet in the dirt. Move toward the fear. Trust yourself.
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