My apartment search ended this weekend with my John Hancock on a great little one bedroom place both near my office and not very far away from where I'm living now. It's tucked away on a side street behind a suburban subdivision instead of on a busily traveled road. The complex is clean and well-maintained and feels safer than most of the places I've looked at so far. The price was right, I get to choose a color for an accent wall, and the best perk? The complex is paying a moving company to move my stuff from my current apartment to my new one. Score!
My BFF has made a joking comparison of my living situation. She says it's as if I'm coming full circle again from my youth until now. When I first moved out of my parent's home I moved in with a roommate. I then graduated to living by myself for a few years before marrying and settling in with my husband. Now I'm doing the same thing but in reverse. After my divorce I moved in with a roommate. Now I'm "graduating" again to my own place.
All this is true on its face, but I certainly hope this doesn't mean that my next "graduation" is moving back in again with my parents! Ha! The horror........
I'm so looking forward to this. My own place! Those two weeks without my roommate helped cement my desire for a space of my own and spurred me to decide to start looking. I can't wait to decorate and stamp it with my own personal style. Yeah, I know. I'm a big doofus. Bring it on!
((Song: "Seven Nation Army" by the White Stripes. Lyrics here:
http://www.whitestripes.net/lyrics/lyrics-elephant.htm ))
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Don't Tell Them To Grow Up And Out Of It
A conversation I had yesterday about my daughter....
"I don't agree with her lifestyle. Of course I love her, that goes without saying. But if she asks me if I agree with her choice of lifestyle I won't feel right lying to her. I'll have to tell her that I don't."
"So you think it's a lifestyle?"
"I think it's a choice, yes."
"I see." Long pause. "So.....okay. A choice. So you could choose to love women?"
"Well......no."
"Then why do you think she can choose to love men?"
---
This exchange has probably bothered me more than it should.
On the one hand, I know my daughter is secure enough about who she is to spend precious little time worrying about what other people feel about her sexual orientation. As a friend of mine said, she is intelligent enough to know that not everyone will embrace who she is, or understand, or even wish to bother to make the attempt. She knows some might try to strike out at her with verbal or even physical abuse. She knows this but follows her own path anyway. It's something I admire about her, to be so self-actuated at her age.
On the other hand, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration, exasperation, indignation, impatience, contempt and superiority sweep over me at the words. My daughter isn't a freak and I resented the implication. I could see not being able to accept someone's choice of action or behavior, but being unwilling to accept my daughter for being lesbian is like being unable to accept me because I'm not. Hating on people because of the way that they're born is singularly stupid.
I realize that's applicable only if you believe that orientation is something you're born with. But....how can you not believe it? Setting aside the people who do choose to have relationships with one sex, the other sex, or both sexes (because there are those who make a choice to do so) there are a great many more who were simply born that way. I was born heterosexual. I didn't wonder or question my basic orientation. I experimented, sure....many do. But anyone who was born hetero should be able to acknowledge that they didn't make that choice; nature made it for them a long time before they had any concept of choice or belief. They simply embrace the reality of what they are and society embraces it along with them. I wonder what they'd do if society suddenly decided something else was "normal?"
I knew what my daughter was before she did. She was a little girl, and I knew it. I couldn't articulate it then, it was an amorphous knowing, but it was instinctive and it was correct. She didn't "choose" to like girls when she was 6 or 7 years old. She simply behaved according to her biology, as the rest of us do. I saw and experienced this awakening in her and there's no way anyone will ever convince me it isn't a natural phenomenon. To many, many people, it's not something they can grow out of. It's not a choice. It's who they are.
Yet I know that not everyone has the benefit of my experience to guide them as they're building their belief system. Attitudes are changing now, thank goodness, but there are still many people for whom any other option but Tab A into Slot B "just ain't right." I'll concede that it's much easier to do when you've been on the inside instead of the outside looking in. And I guess I'm being too hard on people -- you can only expect a certain amount of give in each of the people that you know, according to their capabilities. I know the urge to protect my daughter and defend her from judgment is what spurs my desire to obtain their acceptance as well as their tolerance. I know from experience, though, that many people can't give what they haven't got. I hate being a hypocrite, so I shouldn't expect from others what I can't do myself.
Still, she's my girl. My Mama Lion instincts are strong ones.
((Song: "Changes" by David Bowie. Lyrics here:
http://www.teenagewildlife.com/Albums/HD/C.html))
"I don't agree with her lifestyle. Of course I love her, that goes without saying. But if she asks me if I agree with her choice of lifestyle I won't feel right lying to her. I'll have to tell her that I don't."
"So you think it's a lifestyle?"
"I think it's a choice, yes."
"I see." Long pause. "So.....okay. A choice. So you could choose to love women?"
"Well......no."
"Then why do you think she can choose to love men?"
---
This exchange has probably bothered me more than it should.
On the one hand, I know my daughter is secure enough about who she is to spend precious little time worrying about what other people feel about her sexual orientation. As a friend of mine said, she is intelligent enough to know that not everyone will embrace who she is, or understand, or even wish to bother to make the attempt. She knows some might try to strike out at her with verbal or even physical abuse. She knows this but follows her own path anyway. It's something I admire about her, to be so self-actuated at her age.
On the other hand, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration, exasperation, indignation, impatience, contempt and superiority sweep over me at the words. My daughter isn't a freak and I resented the implication. I could see not being able to accept someone's choice of action or behavior, but being unwilling to accept my daughter for being lesbian is like being unable to accept me because I'm not. Hating on people because of the way that they're born is singularly stupid.
I realize that's applicable only if you believe that orientation is something you're born with. But....how can you not believe it? Setting aside the people who do choose to have relationships with one sex, the other sex, or both sexes (because there are those who make a choice to do so) there are a great many more who were simply born that way. I was born heterosexual. I didn't wonder or question my basic orientation. I experimented, sure....many do. But anyone who was born hetero should be able to acknowledge that they didn't make that choice; nature made it for them a long time before they had any concept of choice or belief. They simply embrace the reality of what they are and society embraces it along with them. I wonder what they'd do if society suddenly decided something else was "normal?"
I knew what my daughter was before she did. She was a little girl, and I knew it. I couldn't articulate it then, it was an amorphous knowing, but it was instinctive and it was correct. She didn't "choose" to like girls when she was 6 or 7 years old. She simply behaved according to her biology, as the rest of us do. I saw and experienced this awakening in her and there's no way anyone will ever convince me it isn't a natural phenomenon. To many, many people, it's not something they can grow out of. It's not a choice. It's who they are.
Yet I know that not everyone has the benefit of my experience to guide them as they're building their belief system. Attitudes are changing now, thank goodness, but there are still many people for whom any other option but Tab A into Slot B "just ain't right." I'll concede that it's much easier to do when you've been on the inside instead of the outside looking in. And I guess I'm being too hard on people -- you can only expect a certain amount of give in each of the people that you know, according to their capabilities. I know the urge to protect my daughter and defend her from judgment is what spurs my desire to obtain their acceptance as well as their tolerance. I know from experience, though, that many people can't give what they haven't got. I hate being a hypocrite, so I shouldn't expect from others what I can't do myself.
Still, she's my girl. My Mama Lion instincts are strong ones.
((Song: "Changes" by David Bowie. Lyrics here:
http://www.teenagewildlife.com/Albums/HD/C.html))
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The Tick-Tock Of The Clock Is Painful
I've been looking for a new place. I checked out a sweet little garage apartment today and if it had been 100 sq ft bigger I would have taken it. It was built in the 40s and had dark wood trim and a blue-tiled kitchen floor. It had charm and I could really see myself there. Unfortunately, it had a tiny little bathroom as well as no place to store much of my stuff -- just one small closet and no other storage. Not to mention I would have to cool with a unit and not central air, and heat with space heaters. Oh, and it was furnished, so I'd have to use other stuff I didn't want while storing my own. But still.....rats. I wanted quirky and fun, which is what this place has. I dread having another boring old apartment and I certainly don't know that I'll be able to find a more eclectic place in the city I live in.
I haven't given the owner a definite "no," but I imagine that's what I'll end up doing. I wonder if I could possibly downsize that much??? Bleh, probably not. Rats.
Last night Grey and I had an interesting discussion. We spoke of Zen and Buddhism and had some back and forth about a number of thought processes that are entertained by practitioners of the belief system. We spoke of our own personal issues and gripes and stressors and it helped sharing them with another. We also spoke of time; how our lives are ticking away and the days of our friendship ticking along with it, yet we only get to see each other once a year, or twice if we're lucky. Neither of us liked that very much. Time always ends up feeling like the enemy.
I think he said it best when he said it should all just be "easy peasy." I find myself thinking that a lot more often these days.
((Song: "Inside Out" by Eve 6. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsdemon.com/72636/eve-6/inside-out/))
I haven't given the owner a definite "no," but I imagine that's what I'll end up doing. I wonder if I could possibly downsize that much??? Bleh, probably not. Rats.
Last night Grey and I had an interesting discussion. We spoke of Zen and Buddhism and had some back and forth about a number of thought processes that are entertained by practitioners of the belief system. We spoke of our own personal issues and gripes and stressors and it helped sharing them with another. We also spoke of time; how our lives are ticking away and the days of our friendship ticking along with it, yet we only get to see each other once a year, or twice if we're lucky. Neither of us liked that very much. Time always ends up feeling like the enemy.
I think he said it best when he said it should all just be "easy peasy." I find myself thinking that a lot more often these days.
((Song: "Inside Out" by Eve 6. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsdemon.com/72636/eve-6/inside-out/))
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I Am Gonna Make It Through This Year If It Kills Me
Many people who know me well make it a point to tell me they believe I'm a pretty self-aware person. I try like hell to be, so I take their words as a very high compliment. I feel a sense of pride when they say that because it means my internal efforts are externally noticed. Who doesn't like that?
So it frustrates me all the more when I'm confronted with a brazen example of the breadth of my own ignorance. This morning I was working along like I normally do, listening to music and doing my job, when I suddenly realized my shoulders were hunched over the keyboard. I deliberately relaxed them and went back to work, only to realize a half hour later that I was all hunched up again.
It got me to thinking.
My left eye's been twitching for two days now. My neck is sore and stiff, something I've been attributing to working out and sleeping wrong. I have to struggle on a daily basis to regulate my breathing by breathing in deep and breathing out again in a slow pattern -- even trying it now, it's an effort, and I feel pretty relaxed.
Seriously, am I under this much stress? STILL? And if so......WHY????
I've always thought of myself as a relaxed sort of person. I chuckle about that now because I admit to being a control freak and I get antsy when I don't feel safe and secure. Who knows. Maybe in all my so-called self-awareness, I somehow missed the memo about the amount of stress I have always had. Perhaps I was just used to the amount I had and piling more on like I've done in the past couple years has finally pushed me past my comfort zone. But in the past I could always manage to find some way to soothe myself.
I'm having trouble with that now. It's finally sunk in.
I don't have the subtle security of a home and a family. My friends (once representing the different life I imagined I wanted more than the one I had, but couldn't get since I was married and had already made my choice) aren't the place I can run to any more either; they all have lives of their own. And you know, that's as it should be. We aren't in our 20's any longer. Now that I have the opportunity to have that life I thought I wanted, I find I didn't really want it as much as I wanted the lust for it. That lust is gone. I don't have much left to want.
So I just don't think I know how to soothe myself anymore.
The result? The stress is piling up. Without someone else to share the burden it's sitting on my shoulders alone and they're beginning to hunch over from it. There's got to be a way for me to release it. I can't even pin down all the originating factors -- if I could, maybe I could excise them, though I doubt it. There's this....this urgency.......inside me. Time is running out. For me, I mean. Mortality. No one to lean on. Did I really realize what I gave up?
Being here alone this week really makes me realize it now.
((Song: "This Year" by The Mountain Goats. Lyrics here:
http://www.themountaingoats.net/lyrics/sunset_lyr.html ))
So it frustrates me all the more when I'm confronted with a brazen example of the breadth of my own ignorance. This morning I was working along like I normally do, listening to music and doing my job, when I suddenly realized my shoulders were hunched over the keyboard. I deliberately relaxed them and went back to work, only to realize a half hour later that I was all hunched up again.
It got me to thinking.
My left eye's been twitching for two days now. My neck is sore and stiff, something I've been attributing to working out and sleeping wrong. I have to struggle on a daily basis to regulate my breathing by breathing in deep and breathing out again in a slow pattern -- even trying it now, it's an effort, and I feel pretty relaxed.
Seriously, am I under this much stress? STILL? And if so......WHY????
I've always thought of myself as a relaxed sort of person. I chuckle about that now because I admit to being a control freak and I get antsy when I don't feel safe and secure. Who knows. Maybe in all my so-called self-awareness, I somehow missed the memo about the amount of stress I have always had. Perhaps I was just used to the amount I had and piling more on like I've done in the past couple years has finally pushed me past my comfort zone. But in the past I could always manage to find some way to soothe myself.
I'm having trouble with that now. It's finally sunk in.
I don't have the subtle security of a home and a family. My friends (once representing the different life I imagined I wanted more than the one I had, but couldn't get since I was married and had already made my choice) aren't the place I can run to any more either; they all have lives of their own. And you know, that's as it should be. We aren't in our 20's any longer. Now that I have the opportunity to have that life I thought I wanted, I find I didn't really want it as much as I wanted the lust for it. That lust is gone. I don't have much left to want.
So I just don't think I know how to soothe myself anymore.
The result? The stress is piling up. Without someone else to share the burden it's sitting on my shoulders alone and they're beginning to hunch over from it. There's got to be a way for me to release it. I can't even pin down all the originating factors -- if I could, maybe I could excise them, though I doubt it. There's this....this urgency.......inside me. Time is running out. For me, I mean. Mortality. No one to lean on. Did I really realize what I gave up?
Being here alone this week really makes me realize it now.
((Song: "This Year" by The Mountain Goats. Lyrics here:
http://www.themountaingoats.net/lyrics/sunset_lyr.html ))
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Change Is Gonna Come
I've been wondering for a while whether I chose wisely when I decided to pursue a paralegal certificate. I've been working verrry part time at a lawyer's office since January and it's been a bit of a tough row to hoe. I've enjoyed the people I've been working with but I haven't always enjoyed the work. I haven't been learning as much as I hoped to learn because there's simply not enough time to dedicate to instruction. This is mainly because the office is run slapdash, at breakneck speed, and there's too much work for too few employees. I've told my friends that the best way to illustrate how I felt about working there was by comparing it to a hamster running in a wheel.
I've been wanting to leave the office for about a month now and free myself up to pursue other things but I've grown accustomed to it. Financially, certainly, but moreso because I'm stubborn in the sense that once I start something, I don't like to change unless change is somehow forced upon me. I'm basically not a boat rocker.
Well, that change has just been forced upon me. I've been let go. Sure, there's this little part of me that's nursing some wounded pride (I should have done it first, waaaa!) but the rest of me is breathing just a little bit easier. I can look at it philosophically and assure myself that now I've been set free to find something else that fits me better. I've learned things here of both a practical and an emotional nature and that's worth the effort I put in.
But man, I'm sure gonna miss the extra cash!
((Song: "A Change Is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke. Lyrics here:
http://theband.hiof.no/lyrics/a_change_is_gonna_come.html ))
I've been wanting to leave the office for about a month now and free myself up to pursue other things but I've grown accustomed to it. Financially, certainly, but moreso because I'm stubborn in the sense that once I start something, I don't like to change unless change is somehow forced upon me. I'm basically not a boat rocker.
Well, that change has just been forced upon me. I've been let go. Sure, there's this little part of me that's nursing some wounded pride (I should have done it first, waaaa!) but the rest of me is breathing just a little bit easier. I can look at it philosophically and assure myself that now I've been set free to find something else that fits me better. I've learned things here of both a practical and an emotional nature and that's worth the effort I put in.
But man, I'm sure gonna miss the extra cash!
((Song: "A Change Is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke. Lyrics here:
http://theband.hiof.no/lyrics/a_change_is_gonna_come.html ))
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Let's All Celebrate
Well, it's (sort of) official, at least in my mind. If I'm not celiac, per se, I'm definitely affected by wheat. I haven't eaten wheat for a week or so now but I decided to have a fried egg sandwich last night because I was lazy and didn't want to fix anything else.
Ugh. This morning I feel as bloated as a beached whale.
So yeah, it appears that it's time to re-evaluate my diet and make permanent changes. If I have colitis, and I may, then the wheat-free diet has seemed to help keep flare-ups to a minimum. So be it.
I'd been feeling a little down again -- as I mentioned a few posts ago -- but the last couple days have improved my mood considerably. I hope it signals the beginning of an upswing instead of a glitch. The roomie is headed out of town for a few weeks and that means I get the apartment to myself. Two whole weeks! Whoo hoo!
Well, gee. Whatever shall I do?
((Song: "Celebration" by Kool and The Gang. Lyrics here:
http://www.energyexpressband.com/lyrics/wedding%20lyrics%20celebration%20kool%20the%20gang.htm ))
Ugh. This morning I feel as bloated as a beached whale.
So yeah, it appears that it's time to re-evaluate my diet and make permanent changes. If I have colitis, and I may, then the wheat-free diet has seemed to help keep flare-ups to a minimum. So be it.
I'd been feeling a little down again -- as I mentioned a few posts ago -- but the last couple days have improved my mood considerably. I hope it signals the beginning of an upswing instead of a glitch. The roomie is headed out of town for a few weeks and that means I get the apartment to myself. Two whole weeks! Whoo hoo!
Well, gee. Whatever shall I do?
((Song: "Celebration" by Kool and The Gang. Lyrics here:
http://www.energyexpressband.com/lyrics/wedding%20lyrics%20celebration%20kool%20the%20gang.htm ))
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Tyger! Tyger! Burning Bright
I had a dream last night that I'm sure was a reflection of how I passed the evening.
In my dream I was standing on the porch of a farmhouse I recognized as my grandparent's home back in the midwest, wearing a 1940's cotton dress and with a washbasin cocked on my hip. I was absorbing the night air when I noticed how still the creatures of the night had become. Not even the cicadas were singing. Just then the clouds parted and the light of the moon poured through, bathing the cornfields across the road in a pale light. A pair of tigers were out in the cornfields. I watched them for a moment, hardly believing what I saw, and then froze. Instead of backing into the house as I should have done, though, I watched one of the two dogs I had -- a big shaggy black one -- do its best to protect me. The dog darted out into the field to meet the pair and one of them engaged the dog, knocking it down with a swipe of its paw and setting upon it with fang and claw while the other continued methodically toward the porch.
The other dog -- a little terrier -- burst out from under the porch, barking, and began to run toward the one tiger approaching me. It was then that I backed up toward the door and called the dog to me urgently, trying to get him to come into the house. The dog didn't listen to me no matter how demanding I was, though, and the tiger ignored it as it pursued its one goal....me. I don't know if the dog died or if he simply got brushed aside. I tried to slam the door but it was too late and the cat came in.
It didn't turn on me, though, at least not to my recollection. The dream became blurry and I awoke. Afterwards I felt no lingering fear from it.
In my dream I was standing on the porch of a farmhouse I recognized as my grandparent's home back in the midwest, wearing a 1940's cotton dress and with a washbasin cocked on my hip. I was absorbing the night air when I noticed how still the creatures of the night had become. Not even the cicadas were singing. Just then the clouds parted and the light of the moon poured through, bathing the cornfields across the road in a pale light. A pair of tigers were out in the cornfields. I watched them for a moment, hardly believing what I saw, and then froze. Instead of backing into the house as I should have done, though, I watched one of the two dogs I had -- a big shaggy black one -- do its best to protect me. The dog darted out into the field to meet the pair and one of them engaged the dog, knocking it down with a swipe of its paw and setting upon it with fang and claw while the other continued methodically toward the porch.
The other dog -- a little terrier -- burst out from under the porch, barking, and began to run toward the one tiger approaching me. It was then that I backed up toward the door and called the dog to me urgently, trying to get him to come into the house. The dog didn't listen to me no matter how demanding I was, though, and the tiger ignored it as it pursued its one goal....me. I don't know if the dog died or if he simply got brushed aside. I tried to slam the door but it was too late and the cat came in.
It didn't turn on me, though, at least not to my recollection. The dream became blurry and I awoke. Afterwards I felt no lingering fear from it.
Possible Interpretations (gathered from http://www.dreamota.com/):
- Seeing corn in your dream means abundance, growth and fertility.
- A dream about a farm can be interpreted as nurturing and cultivating aspects of yourself. Perhaps the time is ripe for some project or idea to reach harvest.
- Tigers represent female sexuality and aggressiveness, power leashed or unleashed anger. If chasing you or another for the kill, what is there in yourself that you are trying to get rid of?
- Dogs in dreams could symbolise a large variety of ideas and concepts, but mostly they are symbolic of the dreamer's defensive structure and may represent personal boundary issues. Dogs could represent the more basic or "animal" parts of our nature and some think that they specifically represent male energy. They also symbolize loyalty or fidelity, especially to one's own values or intentions. Their appearance may indicate a treasure (skill, knowledge) you've ignored or forgotten that needs to be activated, or has the potential to be activated; some idea or aspect of yourself that you need to guard more carefully. Is something happening in your waking life that you need to be on guard about or need to guard against?
Fascinating. Don't you think so, HD?
((Poem: "The Tyger" by William Blake at http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/198.html ))
Monday, May 4, 2009
The Gap Between Crack and Thunder Is Closing In
I had an interesting weekend.
I went to visit a man I've known for about fifteen years now, off and on. Through the years we'd get in touch periodically but the last time we actually saw each other was about ten years ago. He and I have been back in touch for a couple of months and have been speaking on the phone every once in a while, catching up with our lives in the interim. We kept talking about getting together for lunch but our schedules never seemed to sync.
He left me a message on Friday and I called him back later that evening. Finally he asked me what I was doing on Saturday, saying that his next three or four weekends were booked. I told him I was free so we agreed to get together.
As I hung up I knew he had more than lunch on his mind.
Long story short, I was right.
The interesting part is that I'm in uncharted waters. I've always had this separation in my mind -- being friends was casual and relaxing and they were people you could be close to and hung out with. Dating, however.....now that was serious. I've always been the type that never wasted my time unless it was going to "go somewhere."
This won't, though. I don't want it to. He doesn't want it to. There are a hundred reasons why that's so and there's no need for me to explain further. The proof will ultimately be in the pudding. That being said, it's more than a little offputting to know that going in. I feel like I'm suddenly at odds with my fundamental self. There's a heavy whiff of that "so then why even bother?' feeling skating through me.
I know, I know. So okay, here's the thing. I'm trying to color outside the lines for once.
((Song: "Sometimes" by James. Lyrics here:
http://www.asklyrics.com/display/James/Sometimes_Lyrics/152106.htm ))
I went to visit a man I've known for about fifteen years now, off and on. Through the years we'd get in touch periodically but the last time we actually saw each other was about ten years ago. He and I have been back in touch for a couple of months and have been speaking on the phone every once in a while, catching up with our lives in the interim. We kept talking about getting together for lunch but our schedules never seemed to sync.
He left me a message on Friday and I called him back later that evening. Finally he asked me what I was doing on Saturday, saying that his next three or four weekends were booked. I told him I was free so we agreed to get together.
As I hung up I knew he had more than lunch on his mind.
Long story short, I was right.
The interesting part is that I'm in uncharted waters. I've always had this separation in my mind -- being friends was casual and relaxing and they were people you could be close to and hung out with. Dating, however.....now that was serious. I've always been the type that never wasted my time unless it was going to "go somewhere."
This won't, though. I don't want it to. He doesn't want it to. There are a hundred reasons why that's so and there's no need for me to explain further. The proof will ultimately be in the pudding. That being said, it's more than a little offputting to know that going in. I feel like I'm suddenly at odds with my fundamental self. There's a heavy whiff of that "so then why even bother?' feeling skating through me.
I know, I know. So okay, here's the thing. I'm trying to color outside the lines for once.
((Song: "Sometimes" by James. Lyrics here:
http://www.asklyrics.com/display/James/Sometimes_Lyrics/152106.htm ))
Friday, May 1, 2009
If I Squeeze My Grape, Then I Drink My Wine
You know how you get those days when all you want to do is get in the car and drive? Go nowhere, really, but just go? Listen to the music pour from the speakers and wash over you as you let everything weighing you down just empty out of you?
I'm having one of those days.
I thought about Grey today when I heard some Kenny Wayne Shepard pop up on my mp3 player. I texted him and we chatted a bit. Just touching base with him made me smile and feel better. I've been wondering if I'm not sinking a little bit again; dipping my toes in and breaking through the surface of a tiny depression. All the symptoms are there again. By now you'd think I'd know to anticipate that my moods will ebb and flow, but it concerns me that it seems the ebbs are coming closer and closer together as I am growing older.
Am I happy? Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it? When my thoughts turn to escape -- even if I'm not really sure what it is that I'm trying to escape FROM -- it usually means no, or at least an "I don't think so."
When I first got divorced I went through a "celebratory" period, for lack of a better term. Going over to friend's houses, listening to music, dancing and singing and laughing. It wasn't that I hadn't done that before -- I had -- but it no longer carried the underlying frisson of "reporting" in to someone. Feeling that freedom was a wonderful antidote.
That celebratory feeling is gone now. I don't spend as much time with my friends and haven't because I'd rather spend more and more of my time in my room, alone. I don't feel the desire to go out and I don't feel as connected to my friends as I did then. I just feel very alone in a way that my friends can't fill.
I'm also frustrated at some health issues. More than each one independently, all together they make me feel helpess and useless and have made me look at my own mortality and the faster and faster passing of all-too-important years. It's one thing to think abstractly of your own finiteness and quite another to get old enough to really grasp its totality. I know that I'm in the midst of working through some existential issues and I won't get them sorted out until I reach an acceptance of both the inevitability of my own ending and my inability to prevent it from occurring. Right now I get angry and scared and feel indignation, injustice, desperation and futility instead of that place of calm acceptance.
This is a really hard battle for me. I'm a natural half-empty girl. Pessimism is my drink of choice. Maybe I'm just exhausted with the battle -- mentally, that is. When I'm in good health I'm a lot more upbeat and social and don't dwell on all these sorts of things. I need to remind myself that I won't always be in picture perfect health. I simply have to find way to enjoy life no matter what, instead of spending what years I have (and they could be a very many yet) in a funk fueled by my anger at losing what is, in actuality, only an illusionary control. After all, when my time does come, I want to be able to handle it with dignity and acceptance and not despair.
So anyway, these feelings, which I've experienced in the past, are back with a vengeance. That's why I think I've been dipping my toes into the waters of sadness again. Such is my lot. I comfort myself with the fact that after I forge through these issues I'll be in a better frame of mind. My mom tells me her 50s were much better than her 40s. I suspect that's because these sorts of things had been resolved. At least I hope so.
((Song: "Grey Room" by Damien Rice. Lyrics here: http://www.eskimofriends.com/lyrics.asp#grey ))
I'm having one of those days.
I thought about Grey today when I heard some Kenny Wayne Shepard pop up on my mp3 player. I texted him and we chatted a bit. Just touching base with him made me smile and feel better. I've been wondering if I'm not sinking a little bit again; dipping my toes in and breaking through the surface of a tiny depression. All the symptoms are there again. By now you'd think I'd know to anticipate that my moods will ebb and flow, but it concerns me that it seems the ebbs are coming closer and closer together as I am growing older.
Am I happy? Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it? When my thoughts turn to escape -- even if I'm not really sure what it is that I'm trying to escape FROM -- it usually means no, or at least an "I don't think so."
When I first got divorced I went through a "celebratory" period, for lack of a better term. Going over to friend's houses, listening to music, dancing and singing and laughing. It wasn't that I hadn't done that before -- I had -- but it no longer carried the underlying frisson of "reporting" in to someone. Feeling that freedom was a wonderful antidote.
That celebratory feeling is gone now. I don't spend as much time with my friends and haven't because I'd rather spend more and more of my time in my room, alone. I don't feel the desire to go out and I don't feel as connected to my friends as I did then. I just feel very alone in a way that my friends can't fill.
I'm also frustrated at some health issues. More than each one independently, all together they make me feel helpess and useless and have made me look at my own mortality and the faster and faster passing of all-too-important years. It's one thing to think abstractly of your own finiteness and quite another to get old enough to really grasp its totality. I know that I'm in the midst of working through some existential issues and I won't get them sorted out until I reach an acceptance of both the inevitability of my own ending and my inability to prevent it from occurring. Right now I get angry and scared and feel indignation, injustice, desperation and futility instead of that place of calm acceptance.
This is a really hard battle for me. I'm a natural half-empty girl. Pessimism is my drink of choice. Maybe I'm just exhausted with the battle -- mentally, that is. When I'm in good health I'm a lot more upbeat and social and don't dwell on all these sorts of things. I need to remind myself that I won't always be in picture perfect health. I simply have to find way to enjoy life no matter what, instead of spending what years I have (and they could be a very many yet) in a funk fueled by my anger at losing what is, in actuality, only an illusionary control. After all, when my time does come, I want to be able to handle it with dignity and acceptance and not despair.
So anyway, these feelings, which I've experienced in the past, are back with a vengeance. That's why I think I've been dipping my toes into the waters of sadness again. Such is my lot. I comfort myself with the fact that after I forge through these issues I'll be in a better frame of mind. My mom tells me her 50s were much better than her 40s. I suspect that's because these sorts of things had been resolved. At least I hope so.
((Song: "Grey Room" by Damien Rice. Lyrics here: http://www.eskimofriends.com/lyrics.asp#grey ))
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