After a few days of wallowing in self-pity again -- in which, thankfully, I refrained from posting in this blog -- I am back on the proverbial horse. And since this blog of mine has been heavy peasant food for a while I feel in the mood for some lighter fare. On to the music!
I have listened to music for as long as I can remember. It’s helped me keep my sanity through otherwise difficult periods. Honestly, there were some points where I don’t know how I would have survived without it. I was a nerd girl in high school and had a select few friends. I wasn’t very popular – and truly, I didn’t even want to be because I was happy where I was. I saw a lot of people trying like hell to be someone else and I wanted no part of it.
But I had my own share of problems. My parents had a strained marriage at the time, they were always arguing and such. I think back and realize now that they were just a few years older then than I am now. They were just two people trying to adjust to things between them and not always getting it right. Boy do I ever understand! I didn’t like the fighting but even then I think at some level I knew what they were going through. I just didn’t have the wisdom then that I do now.
Anyway, music helped me get through and that’s why the titles of all my blog entries are lyrics to songs. And now? Even though music still means a lot to me, my love for it has become an echo of what it used to be when I was a teen. The last years have been so stressful that I haven't let it move me like it used to or carry me through. Who knows, maybe I just lost the rememberence of it somewhere along the way.
I am planning to head out of town this weekend to an old friend's house...a friend who used to be my boss when he was in his 30s and I was barely 19. He was my journalism professor and my boss at my college newspaper. I'll affectionally call him Sgt from now on because he's the guy I think of when I think of the Beatles. I credit him with exposing me to more than just the new romantic/Brit pop stuff I limited myself to in the 80s. I can't express what an incredible gift he gave me by doing that. He taught me about the 60s -- the Beatles and the Doors and the Stones.
Following his guidance I moved on by myself into further exploration. I found the Monkees, a group I still absolutely adore. I own everything they did on vinyl -- some still sealed! Anyway, I followed them around on their tour in the late 80s and met all of them and hung out on Davy's tour bus and watched movies and ate breakfast with Peter and his family. Oh my, that was a great time! A rich time in my life for sure.
The trip this weekend to see Sgt made me think that I hadn't burned any of my Monkees stuff to my Zen. I did so last night and today here at work I've been listening to all the music that moved me in the late 80s and inspired me to run off with the band.
As each song comes on my Zen I'm wondering why I let all of them languish unheard for so long. My mind spins up memories; these songs are paintings from my past. My mood has lifted. I'm feeling so light. I'm smiling. My heart is swelling, I feel full and free and blessed to be alive. I feel like walking through that Door Into Summer. I feel like I could do anything. I feel ageless. Timeless.
And that is what music does. That's why it's the best.
((Song: "Listen To The Band" by the Monkees. Lyrics here:
http://www.monkees.net/DOCS/LYRICS/LISTENTO.html ))
Friday, January 25, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Straight And To The Point
There's something that flashes through my mind on occasion and when it does it always flashes through my mind at the same time and in the same place -- just as I'm laying my head down on my pillow to go to sleep. It's a simple enough statement: "What the hell are you doing here?" This is usually immediately followed by some variation of "you should be with your family."
It hurts for long minutes, maybe more. I wallow in the guilt of abandonment, feeling like a horrible mother, a horrible wife, a horrible woman. Sacrificing the relationship with my exh was one thing, but sacrificing my relationship with my daughter? I can feel the loss so sharply, like a neverending hollow pointed pain in my gut. I begin to accuse myself and point out that I have become peripheral to my daughter's life, of my own choosing. How could I voluntarily give away those seconds and minutes and days and weeks and months of her life that I should share with her before she grows up and I won't have that opportunity any longer? Why could I not have waited?
I feel the tears well up; sometimes they fall and sometimes I swallow them back down. I let myself feel it for a moment and then, purposely, I start my internal dialogue. I remind myself to stop creating worst case scenarios. I tell myself that my daughter is still available to me, she won't forget about me, I am still her mother. I tell myself that things are not as bad as I imagine and that I have much to pride myself on. And in that manner I talk myself back down and away from that mental precipice. Then, some time later, I fall asleep.
When I wake up the next morning I listen again. I have another voice then, my morning voice, one that is free of all the day's parading thoughts. I've learned over the years that it is this simple unadorned voice that is most tapped into the deepest parts of my soul. The what I want and what I need parts, the what is best and what is true and right parts. So I listen to it and it is mostly silent and quiet and clear. Inevitably I feel better.
This process is exhausting. I hope the two voices can find some sort of synchronization soon. I'll be relieved when they do.
I experienced this last night except that following the internal struggle of guilt and the talking myself back, I did not immediately fall asleep. I lay there thinking about a situation that had presented itself over the weekend concerning my roommate.
For the first time in my life, I am enjoying being by myself. It feels like a gift that has been given to me at just the right time....but it's not, it's a reward. I've earned the ability to feel this way. It is so liberating.
I look around me and everyone is wanting to be with someone or already is. I don't. I have noticed how people -- women, especially -- seem to need another man in place before they're willing to make the leap out of a relationship. I've never been able to condemn this because I have been one of those women my entire life. Until now. This time I didn't leave for someone else, I didn't need that crutch to support me on my way out the door. No, I left for ME.
I'm proud of that because it is so very unlike me. I'm proud of the strength of purpose I found somewhere when I needed it most. I'm proud even through the tears I have to suffer through when I think about my daughter. Sometimes I think about going back, as I've said, but one of the things that always comes up in that internal dialogue -- and inspires me to soldier on regardless of the guilt -- is the fact that I left because the alternative was waiting until I found someone else and walking out the door with that kind of crutch propped up under my arm.
I didn't want to be that woman any longer.
((Song: "Coin Operated Boy" by the Dresden Dolls. Lyrics here:
http://www.dresdendolls.com/downloads_n_lyrics/lyrics/coinoperatedboy.htm ))
It hurts for long minutes, maybe more. I wallow in the guilt of abandonment, feeling like a horrible mother, a horrible wife, a horrible woman. Sacrificing the relationship with my exh was one thing, but sacrificing my relationship with my daughter? I can feel the loss so sharply, like a neverending hollow pointed pain in my gut. I begin to accuse myself and point out that I have become peripheral to my daughter's life, of my own choosing. How could I voluntarily give away those seconds and minutes and days and weeks and months of her life that I should share with her before she grows up and I won't have that opportunity any longer? Why could I not have waited?
I feel the tears well up; sometimes they fall and sometimes I swallow them back down. I let myself feel it for a moment and then, purposely, I start my internal dialogue. I remind myself to stop creating worst case scenarios. I tell myself that my daughter is still available to me, she won't forget about me, I am still her mother. I tell myself that things are not as bad as I imagine and that I have much to pride myself on. And in that manner I talk myself back down and away from that mental precipice. Then, some time later, I fall asleep.
When I wake up the next morning I listen again. I have another voice then, my morning voice, one that is free of all the day's parading thoughts. I've learned over the years that it is this simple unadorned voice that is most tapped into the deepest parts of my soul. The what I want and what I need parts, the what is best and what is true and right parts. So I listen to it and it is mostly silent and quiet and clear. Inevitably I feel better.
This process is exhausting. I hope the two voices can find some sort of synchronization soon. I'll be relieved when they do.
I experienced this last night except that following the internal struggle of guilt and the talking myself back, I did not immediately fall asleep. I lay there thinking about a situation that had presented itself over the weekend concerning my roommate.
For the first time in my life, I am enjoying being by myself. It feels like a gift that has been given to me at just the right time....but it's not, it's a reward. I've earned the ability to feel this way. It is so liberating.
I look around me and everyone is wanting to be with someone or already is. I don't. I have noticed how people -- women, especially -- seem to need another man in place before they're willing to make the leap out of a relationship. I've never been able to condemn this because I have been one of those women my entire life. Until now. This time I didn't leave for someone else, I didn't need that crutch to support me on my way out the door. No, I left for ME.
I'm proud of that because it is so very unlike me. I'm proud of the strength of purpose I found somewhere when I needed it most. I'm proud even through the tears I have to suffer through when I think about my daughter. Sometimes I think about going back, as I've said, but one of the things that always comes up in that internal dialogue -- and inspires me to soldier on regardless of the guilt -- is the fact that I left because the alternative was waiting until I found someone else and walking out the door with that kind of crutch propped up under my arm.
I didn't want to be that woman any longer.
((Song: "Coin Operated Boy" by the Dresden Dolls. Lyrics here:
http://www.dresdendolls.com/downloads_n_lyrics/lyrics/coinoperatedboy.htm ))
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Cause Knowledge is Power!
Other than that sharp turn in Vegas where I had a great time, and an even sharper turn into sickness (from which I've recovered other than a lingering cough) I've been wandering about my apartment for weeks now, adrift, bored.
I've been wondering what to do, knowing that the things I once found fresh and fun and preferable to being wife and mother are now sour and stale, tasteless. I sit in front of the computer, once my lifeline, reading blog after blog until my eyes glaze over. I've plopped my ass in front of the TV and stared blindly at it to pass the time. I've read a few books but that doesn't occupy me much more than an hour at a time. I've been so restless that I've even -- perish the thought! -- considered playing online video games again even though they bore me to tears.
I remember back to my old life, the one I hated, and wonder why I hated it. I had focus. I feel like I've given that focus away and it was a good one, being a mother. I need something new so that I can find that urge again and take up the mantle of mother in a different way, that isn't attached to being "wife."
So this week I'm back at work, at this same nowhere place, going nowhere fast.....and I've decided. I can't do this any longer.
I have to have my own place. I have to have time to be a mother and a career woman. I have to go somewhere and do something with the rest of my life. I cannot stand being 40 and living with a freaking roommate.
Enough.
I'm going back to school.
((Song: "Knowledge Is Power!" from Schoolhouse Rock! Lyrics here:
http://www.schoolhouserock.tv/ ))
I've been wondering what to do, knowing that the things I once found fresh and fun and preferable to being wife and mother are now sour and stale, tasteless. I sit in front of the computer, once my lifeline, reading blog after blog until my eyes glaze over. I've plopped my ass in front of the TV and stared blindly at it to pass the time. I've read a few books but that doesn't occupy me much more than an hour at a time. I've been so restless that I've even -- perish the thought! -- considered playing online video games again even though they bore me to tears.
I remember back to my old life, the one I hated, and wonder why I hated it. I had focus. I feel like I've given that focus away and it was a good one, being a mother. I need something new so that I can find that urge again and take up the mantle of mother in a different way, that isn't attached to being "wife."
So this week I'm back at work, at this same nowhere place, going nowhere fast.....and I've decided. I can't do this any longer.
I have to have my own place. I have to have time to be a mother and a career woman. I have to go somewhere and do something with the rest of my life. I cannot stand being 40 and living with a freaking roommate.
Enough.
I'm going back to school.
((Song: "Knowledge Is Power!" from Schoolhouse Rock! Lyrics here:
http://www.schoolhouserock.tv/ ))
Friday, January 4, 2008
Look Who’s Alone Now, It's Not Me, It's Not Me
I've been upgraded to pneumonia and have been housebound and miserable for most of the week. Never been sicker in my life, really. Got a shot today and it's helped me bounce back a bit. I'm going stir crazy, I miss my kiddo, and even stranger than that, I miss my office! Someone shoot me, I'm obviously delusional.
It's given me a chance to touch base with the different men in my life. A remarkable number of them, really, so it's been a good week. But no, none of them are currently in the "relationship" category. Furthermore, I don't anticipate any of them being in the Relationship Future category though I can't say the same for Relationship Past. What can I say? I tend to stay friends with men I once cared for.
Talked to X a couple of times in the past few days. He's been keeping up with me and asking me how I feel. He mentioned our weekend in Vegas and had this to say about it -- and yes, I'm leaving some of his words out and only including the last couple sentences! Anyway, he said, "You know what I think that was? I think it was the perfect first date."
I just laughed. If it was, he's in trouble. How could he possibly top that?
I spoke to my friend CK on New Year's Day. He and his wife are about to have a little boy, due around kiddo's birthday. He and I dated when we were in our early 20s, matter of fact I was dating him when I met exh and dumped him for exh. No hard feelings ever existed between us though. We were always just meant to be friends though we certainly had our flirtations and escapades. He's living in a faraway state and he never keeps in touch as much as I'd like him to and I don't do it either, but when we talk the years fall away. I intend to keep better track of him this year.
Spoke briefly to Grey this evening. He was on his way home. He and the wife just bought a newer car since the old one was on its last legs so he took on newer payments. He's still stressed, I can tell. I could hear it in his voice and mentioned it to him, and he said yes, he was a bit down. He'd come off of vacation and was just in the throes of not wanting to start back to work at the same old job. I am glad I can be there for him to bounce his stress off of.
Spoke to HG a few times over the course of the week. He's still the same old HG; sexy and witty and more curious than George. I get the feeling sometimes that he wants to say more than he does on a few things, one subject in particular, but he is such an honorable fellow that when he makes promises, he keeps them. I don't push him to break his promises though I'd like nothing better. Hm, perhaps I should clarify. Not to see him break the promises, I mean, but to be able to share and analyze his thoughts and feelings on some topics that mean a lot to him as they develop. I feel I've helped him so far -- with HIS feelings and nothing else -- and it chafes that I have been locked out of doing so even though I know and understand and respect the reasons why. I'll continue to respect his wishes because I have the utmost respect for him, but I don't always have to enjoy it.
And lastly, BiB. He and I finally spoke tonight. It was a pleasant conversation. We caught up on current events and I learned about the new things in his life and how they were going. He did me the same courtesy -- something he did not do the time previously. He didn't seem drifty and he didn't devolve into one-word responses. And he seemed quite concerned about my health and rather warmly wished me a good evening. I came away from the conversation feeling all right about it. Maybe we're getting somewhere. Time heals all things, right? After all, it is the great Indifference Machine.
Bedtime for this man-overloaded lady. :)
((Song: "Wisemen" by James Blunt. Lyrics here:
http://www.james-blunt.net/lyrics/wisemen/ ))
It's given me a chance to touch base with the different men in my life. A remarkable number of them, really, so it's been a good week. But no, none of them are currently in the "relationship" category. Furthermore, I don't anticipate any of them being in the Relationship Future category though I can't say the same for Relationship Past. What can I say? I tend to stay friends with men I once cared for.
Talked to X a couple of times in the past few days. He's been keeping up with me and asking me how I feel. He mentioned our weekend in Vegas and had this to say about it -- and yes, I'm leaving some of his words out and only including the last couple sentences! Anyway, he said, "You know what I think that was? I think it was the perfect first date."
I just laughed. If it was, he's in trouble. How could he possibly top that?
I spoke to my friend CK on New Year's Day. He and his wife are about to have a little boy, due around kiddo's birthday. He and I dated when we were in our early 20s, matter of fact I was dating him when I met exh and dumped him for exh. No hard feelings ever existed between us though. We were always just meant to be friends though we certainly had our flirtations and escapades. He's living in a faraway state and he never keeps in touch as much as I'd like him to and I don't do it either, but when we talk the years fall away. I intend to keep better track of him this year.
Spoke briefly to Grey this evening. He was on his way home. He and the wife just bought a newer car since the old one was on its last legs so he took on newer payments. He's still stressed, I can tell. I could hear it in his voice and mentioned it to him, and he said yes, he was a bit down. He'd come off of vacation and was just in the throes of not wanting to start back to work at the same old job. I am glad I can be there for him to bounce his stress off of.
Spoke to HG a few times over the course of the week. He's still the same old HG; sexy and witty and more curious than George. I get the feeling sometimes that he wants to say more than he does on a few things, one subject in particular, but he is such an honorable fellow that when he makes promises, he keeps them. I don't push him to break his promises though I'd like nothing better. Hm, perhaps I should clarify. Not to see him break the promises, I mean, but to be able to share and analyze his thoughts and feelings on some topics that mean a lot to him as they develop. I feel I've helped him so far -- with HIS feelings and nothing else -- and it chafes that I have been locked out of doing so even though I know and understand and respect the reasons why. I'll continue to respect his wishes because I have the utmost respect for him, but I don't always have to enjoy it.
And lastly, BiB. He and I finally spoke tonight. It was a pleasant conversation. We caught up on current events and I learned about the new things in his life and how they were going. He did me the same courtesy -- something he did not do the time previously. He didn't seem drifty and he didn't devolve into one-word responses. And he seemed quite concerned about my health and rather warmly wished me a good evening. I came away from the conversation feeling all right about it. Maybe we're getting somewhere. Time heals all things, right? After all, it is the great Indifference Machine.
Bedtime for this man-overloaded lady. :)
((Song: "Wisemen" by James Blunt. Lyrics here:
http://www.james-blunt.net/lyrics/wisemen/ ))
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