Distraction

Youtube has a lot of "self help" videos, i've recently noticed.  Well, i noticed as i was searching for "how to mend a broken heart" like a 16 year old.  I'm not someone who likes pain, contrary to popular belief.  I want to laugh.  I want to feel happy.  I want to feel lightness, and joy.  So- this feeling of something squeezing my chest so i can't take deep breathes without starting to cry- THIS is not how i want to be feeling.  My brain says "shut it down" my heart says "not a fuckin chance bitch". Thats why i'm searching for videos to tell me how to make the hurt stop.  Give me directions on how people get through a break up from a long term relationship that they weren't ready for.

But truthfully.  Maybe i did see this coming and maybe i was ready for it.  Not at that moment, and not IN that moment- but yes, I did know we weren't happy and doing nothing about fixing it.  I had become comfortable in my discomfort. I didn't want to not see him every day, or hear him, or feel him.  I kept hoping for the happy version of him and most times that is not what was coming home.  And yet, I still did nothing.  Oh, yeah i talked at him, I asked him for what i wanted and accepted that he didn't want the same.  I was willing to let this go on indefinitely and as much as this hurts me (and he is also hurting I know) I am grateful that he was strong enough to say "enough".   I never would have.

Along with feeling this loss I am surprised to recognize a feeling of curiosity - what will happen next?  I've spent so much of my time waiting to be seen, to be heard, to be valued as a priority, as a partner that it almost feels good to shed it all and be "new" again.  This is my clean slate.  It was handed to me and i would be a fool to not appreciate it.

After my marriage ended I knew exactly what i did NOT want.  During this relationship i have learned what I do want.  If i hadn't learned anything from either of those long term (20 and 13 years) relationships I would say i'm a hopeless cause.  Could i have learned the same lessons during brief and multiple relationships?  I don't know.  I don't think so though.  I was a different person in both relationships in order to acclimate to their lives, their expectations of me.  At 48 i'm still wondering what do i want to do with the rest of my life - I thought it was "be with him".......is that as lame as it looks in print?

This is my time.  This is my year to figure out what MY life is, what i want it to be and where I'M taking it.  Not someone else.  Me.  I'm not a grand person, my aspirations are not that exciting.  I love home, and comfort and peace.  I love deep conversations, i love to dream out loud.  I love great big real hugs.  I love watching people and eaves dropping.  Can't help it, i'm nosy.  Nosy about what makes people do what they do.......and so much more.  It's safe to say i'm not looking to dive out of a plane or bungee jump, or have any death defying goals.  I'm not an excitement junkie - i hate seeing people get hurt.

I'm told i need to make a list of the qualities i want in a relationship.  Not so much a check off sheet but a reminder.  I'm told it will change - because i will change.  I've never been alone.  I've been in a relationship my entire adult life with only a short time in between the two.

I was sad thinking this happened right before the holidays.  But is there ever a good time to break up? I'm grateful for the friends that have wrapped themselves around me, so i don't loose any of the parts that have shattered.  I'm grateful for my children who show their love for me in the way that they care for both our well being, him and I.  It is a relief to know that my kids are grown, independent and happy.  It is what i aspire to be.

This list, I must start it.  And because it's this time of year i know one thing I will require: A man who knows how and wants to celebrate me and one that will allow me to celebrate him.  I don't mean fancy gifts........i mean meaningful and purposeful shows of celebration of each other.  (the two best gifts I ever received was a hand delivered home made valentine and a  classic childrens book I had never read)  I want to feel the excitement of knowing he is planning something and I want to be able to do the same and have him never take it for granted.  I want to have fun at the holidays, like a child.  I want to go see lights and get hot chocolate and watch the lighting of christmas trees.  I want to shop together for other people.  I want to participate in what the holidays mean for him, and me.

So.  There's the first item on my list.  The ability to celebrate each other.  

For the past 5 years, my ride in to work has been all beautiful back roads through Wolcott, Cheshire and Hamden.  For so long I hated my commute but i've grown to love this one.

The houses are beautiful and i love to see how they are decorated during the different seasons and holidays. I have my favorites of course, the ones i fantasize about what it would be like to live in, and how I would decorate and the parties I would have.  Its not even the big huge expensive (although i believe they are ALL expensive) homes that attract me.  It's the different ones.  The ones that you can't tell what the layout is from the outside.  You just know there are cozy nooks in that house.  One of my favorites is located on a tight curve and it is nestled right into it.  One of the trees on the road has wooden arrows pointing in all different directions with the names of cities all over the country painted on them.  They had that up BEFORE pinterest.  And the rest of the house and yard look like someone who really loves their home lives there.  It looks cozy, warm, inviting.  Friendly.  I love to drive by that house.

The other thing i see and have grown to take comfort in the familiarity of is two men.  One used to walk his dogs (3 or 4 depending) while he goes through peoples trash cans.  He lives in a huge red house (I've seen him sitting in the yard with the dogs) but he walks around trash picking.  This isn't a poor area.  If he's living in that house, i'm thinking he has no need to pick. So I always wonder about him - is he a hoarder? Extremely frugal?  Nosy?  He has wild long white hair and a matching beard, but he doesn't look homeless.  More like a hippie.  Maybe he's recycling.  Recently I've started seeing him on a bike, no dogs.  I felt sad the first time i saw him without the dogs.  I hope they are okay.  

The other man I don't see as often but when i do I get so excited.  He walks the cheshire path and he has the determined look on his face, he's almost marching, and swinging his arms - he hits, not slap, not touch, not swipe, HITS the post as he walks around it to go back in the other direction down the path.  I see him at a crossroad.  It's his turn back point.  And he isn't playing around.  He is Half Way and he is making it real.  Why does this tickle me so much?  Because i do the same damn thing.  Before the walking trail was brought all the way around Woodtick Reservoir I would have to pick a side to walk on.  If i went on the shady side through the woods (which i usually did because thats my favorite part) I would walk right up to the end at the road and hit a rock that i HAD to walk around before i could head back in the other direction.  I know what he feels.  I don't know him.  

So weird that my personal life is the exact opposite of that statement.  I do know him, I had no idea what he felt.  Not for lack of trying.  

So I did get to see the season change to fall, and drive down all the roads where you can't see sky because the trees meet each other over the road.  I did get to enjoy my views and take in the beauty of my morning ride.  I did get to see The Sleeping Giant every morning, usually misted although through a bunch of netting put up to stop the golf balls from shooting on to Whitney Ave.......It is still majestic. And I have hiked it several times.  I may again, but it won't be the same, and that's okay.

I feel like i'm saying goodbye to something I loved.  Silly, as it's "just" a ride, and duh, I can drive down it any time I want.  It just won't be my commute. My time of day to appreciate the beauty in nature AND man made buildings.  I've had so many peaceful happy trips down these roads.

And now I will find new ones. 

 

It must be an awful feeling to rip apart someones life, so I get that you would want to try and make me (yourself) feel better by reaching out with nonsensical messages such as "hope you're having a good day".  I mean, i know the intention was a good one, but really?  Fuck you.  My good days are on hold for a "bit" until I can begin to recognize my life again, thank you.  Do I sound angry?  At this moment, i am.  Try me in 5 minutes and there may be snot pouring out of my nose and lot of trying to suck air in between the wrenching sobs.  Or I might just be registering students for next semester.  Who the fuck knows what emotion will pour out of my face and body in the next moment?  Do you?

I want to thank you for not doing this to me while i was trying to get my own shit straight.  Seriously. Had you not been so chivalrous you may have had a bridge jumping on your hands.  Smart move to sit tight during my crisis of "why do i feel like such shit all the time".  Oh, here, have a pill and try some therapy and we'll get you back to manageable.  It's great that i have such clarity on the lack of control i have over my life.

I hate this feeling of sarcasm and self loathing and white hot anger.  Hate. it.  And the disappointment in you and in me and in the fact that I still haven't learned.  When am i going to stop hating my lunch hour or any minute that isn't filled with some kind of mental activity so that i don't have to think about this and FUCK UP MY MAKEUP again.

You have no right to make yourself feel better by trying to comfort me.  Stop it. You wanted this and you finally worked yourself into saying it so now you need to own it. It hurts to let go of something you are used to having.  I know.   Don't be afraid.  The hardest part is done.  Your happy days are coming right up. You let me worry about mine.

how to break up part one

Selective memory isn't something you want when your spouse is breaking up with you.   During the first few days, at least from my personal experience, you will only remember all the good things you are losing as you walk back and forth between the same two rooms not knowing what the hell to do with all these FEELINGS. You will hurt, you will rage, you will want to beg (don't) you will want to make deals, or talk them into not leaving you.  These aren't to be shared with that person.  That person gave up the right to know your innermost workings.  Fuck that person and i don't mean literally.  You need to remember ALL of it, like all the NOT so good things you will no longer have to deal with.

And to the person DOING the breaking up- be honest, be kind, be quick and be the fuck gone. It is not a kindness to the person you are breaking up with to be too nice.  I'm here to tell you that it will be taken as a ray of hope that you are changing your mind, that you have come to your senses, that OF COURSE you can't live without them either!  Here's the key, have a place to go BEFORE you blow up the world of your live in partner.  That way you can exit stage left and leave them to begin their healing.  And your healing.  Hanging around thinking you are "helping" the person being left is, lets be honest here, more about your feelings than theirs.  IF you do have reason to feel bad, then feel bad.  From a distance.  DO NOT place any more hurt on the person who has just had their life as they knew it balled up and thrown away by you.  YOU are not the person to comfort them.

Do NOT keep telling that person you "love" them.  That is the biggest line of bullshit around.  Love goes through growing pains, Love learns, adjusts, sacrifices and supports.  Love gets help when it can't do it alone.  Love holds on during the storm.  People who do NOT love each other break up, give up, walk away.  Don't mix it up.  Don't use it to lighten your guilt.  Be responsible and clean up your business respectfully, and without conditions.  Even if you don't love that person any more, at one point you thought you did.  Do the right thing.

Over

Over. When asked if he wanted this relationship he said "do I have to tell you now?".....Yes, and you already have just by that answer but I need to hear you say it. "No".

What more is needed to end love, when yours is no longer wanted.  "I'm not attracted to you anymore"... that.

To have the lips you have kissed a thousand times sneer at you during this, the moment of your heartbreak....is to seal the fate of this malnourished love. The final gasping breath caught in my chest, hard as a rock.

I loved you with all of my heart and accepted the love you gave me but you are right, i'm not the same. I can no longer accept less than being loved wholly and unconditionally by the man who shares my life. Or I will simply not share.

I wish you no ill will, and I hope that one day you remember me with a smile. I hope that one day I remember you with a smile. For now, I will try to smile and hide my pain, move forward and leave you in my past.

Re-visiting this blog renders feelings of guilt - something i haven't kept up on that i really felt i should.  Something that would be productive,if only for me- and positive, again- only for me.  So i begin by apologizing to myself for not being diligent in upholding the promises i make to myself- this blog being only one failed promise in a long line of well meaning intentions.

The problem: How much telling is too much?  Why is it okay to write about these things but not THESE things?  Who says?  Ultimately who cares?  Aside from the person or two or three that may identify themselves here either correctly or incorrectly, no one will care and yet some may be mildly entertained. Or maybe even knowing it is not them of which i speak, they will identify the sameness that sticks to all of us.  

You may not have walked a mile in my shoes but i'm sure you've taken some of the same steps.  Not the exact same as her over there, or him in here, but the same somewhere.  Because like the saying goes, we are all more alike than we are different.  In other words your heartbreak, my heartbreak?  Not original.  Not even a little. It's all been done before so THEREFOR why can we not speak of things that seem like "too much information" or "over sharing".  Why must we only share smiling pictures and joyful events on social media or be considered an attention whore, or drama queen?  It's all the same bullshit when it comes down to it.   Knowing i will survive as many before me have almost makes it an adventure. Similiar to walking on coals when you don't truly believe your feet wont burn and SURPRISE- your feet got burned.  Does anyone need understanding or empathy getting through the good times?  doubtful, as there are usually plenty of people wiling to share in the festivities. When your heart is dark people scatter and i think it's because they are afraid its catching.  They don't want your darkness to make them remember their own. Because we all have it in us. Only fools think otherwise. 

I'm going to try something different.  I'm not going to dull it down or leave out the grit because it makes someone else more comfortable with my experience...  Because i've been going through some shit and here feels safe, like a place to unload (or as its popular now to say "unpack") it.  Let's refer to it as a record of my growth from caring about others more than myself, to caring about myself enough to care more about others.  

Yeah that.  I want so badly to be able to talk to that one person who will weed out the emotions and care enough about me to hear my fears and say "me too.  you aren't alone.  I'm in it with you" and i think that maybe that is some ridiculous 70's music lyrics or 80's movie because that's not real life.  Maybe for some but are they being real?  Is it really possible? 

i have not yet had the privilege of being truly accepted with all my faults and imperfections- that unconditional love that comes first from parents - nope.  From a mother?  um, nope.  Parents are people first and they make mistakes but there are those that never bond, never fall in love with their children.  My mother had me when she was 19 years old and "had" to get married to a mean man who was my sperm doner.  All i remember of him is that he made my mother cry a lot, and he liked to hit.  I was forced to go with him on a few visitations which have left me forever with the fear of heights, (jump i'll catch you) and the memory of having to bring coffee cans filled with pennies to my mother (child support) and on another occasion a check written on toilet paper, also child support. I remember this because I made my mother cry when i gave it to her.  My father was a class. act.  and therein began my relationships with men.   But now i want to talk about my mother.....first.  yes, please imagine a heavy disgusted sigh because the only reason i'm opening this box of memories is because my therapist has suggested to me that my little bubble needs to be burst where my feelings about good old mom are concerned.

Therapy seems to think my life has been so busy with all the living i've been trying to keep up with, that i've lied to myself about being okay and having moved on with all the mother issues.  I personally called it making peace and not losing any more sleep over being completely and utterly abandoned by my mother at the age of 16 (well to be honest at birth although she was physically present) Therapy believes that because my children have flown the coop, my job is relatively secure and peaceful, and my living conditions are stable that time has chosen to bite me in the ass rather than reward me with peace.    Kind of like getting sick on vacation.  

So i'm going to begin writing a lot of things that will probably make me sick and might finally be purged.  I honestly don't know what the point of rehashing the past is, considering it's not going to be changed and certainly not fixed.  How much making peace with it do i need to do?  I've had all of the feelings already.  Doing it again makes very little sense to me but i like my therapist so i'm going to try it her way and try not to complain about it.

My mantra has always been "don't go back".  Once i've moved along i do it with a vengeance. But fuck it.  I'm game.  It's not like i'm being asked to go back to an ex.  Because that's where i draw the line, even if others don't.    If you have given birth to me, and had some responsibility in the making of my DNA and odd quirks, you may treat me poorly and i will work through it over and over and over again because it seem like the respectful thing to do.  There will definitely be too much information and there will be the implied eye rolls and heavy sighs. 

a lesson on impermanence

Memorial Day weekend usually finds us in New Hampshire with friends.  "We" being a group of our friends who all own a party house together, my boyfriend of 12 years and myself.  Through the years our activities have changed, but the underlying vibe is to hang out with good company, away from work and chores and electronics and just RELAX.  There is also almost always tag-sales and flea markets to stop in and check out.  This year was no different.

The whole field was covered with flea market tables, tents and vehicles.  As far as i could tell in a quick glance there was nothing there I was going to be interested in.  I have this horrible fear that I will become a hoarder, therefor I have a bad habit of throwing everything away- so what is the point in buying?  I do, however, collect Buddha's (and more recently elephants) both because they bring me joy.  Simple.  I bought my first Buddha years ago in West Virginia, believe it or not.  Since then he keeps popping up and i don't ignore things that keep popping up.  My rule is that if i find more than one, in a thrift store, antique shop, flea market- wherever, I can only take one.  I don't know why.  It feels wrong to me to take more than one.

Back to the flea market- I eventually found a table filled with the kind of items i like- an olive wood mortar and pestal being the first thing to slow me down to come see what else might be found here.  The people, an older couple, were smiling and friendly.  I liked them immediately.  Not that i like or dislike people immediately, i just don't normally "take" to perfect strangers within moments.  We got to talking, and they told me this was their first time trying to sell at a flea market. (I had commented that their prices were almost too low)  They were clearing out their house that they had lived in for almost 50 years because they were downsizing.  I told them i'd love to go shopping in their home.  She picked up an elephant that had been hand carved by a friend of theirs, his initials on the back.  It was meant to be- and i told her i had started collecting elephants and asked if she happened to have any Buddha's?  Her whole face lit up and she walked me down the table to show me a small framed starving Buddha that had been hand painted on a see through leaf.  It was gorgeous.  And it was affordable.  She told me when they had purchased their home all those years ago the woman who owned it previously had left them the Buddha as a housewarming gift.  She told me it was in a flat box and it had taken her years to finally find the "right" frame.  She was really happy it was going to someone who would appreciate it.  I love random connections with strangers like these.  

I left my booty in the vehicle when we returned to the house, not wanting to forget to bring it home. A little while later D and a few others decided they were going fishing and D drove his truck.  I thought nothing of it.  The next morning, when i came downstairs D approached me and said "you are going to kill me and i'm so sorry"........which is never a good way to start the day.  What could have possibly happened so early in the morning in New Hampshire?  Then he told me he had taken all our stuff out of the truck to make room for people to sit when the went to go fishing.  He had been in a hurry and had put everything under the parked truck next to his (that he knew wasn't going anywhere) to "protect" it until they returned, and he could put them back in the truck.

Well he forgot to put the items back in the truck.

One of our friends didn't look under the truck before he started it, and backed up over everything.

My Buddha was demolished.  The broken glass had shredded the leaf.  To say i was angry is an understatement.  I saw red.  This was a once in a lifetime find.  It could never be replaced.  And it had been left on the ground and run over.  For fishing.  I suggested to D that if he didn't smoke so much pot he probably wouldn't have put the stuff under a truck, and then forgotten it.  He knew enough to walk away as I tried not to blow my shit up. 

I was really in a rip.  I'm talking, furious.  And then all at once, I thought to myself "it's a thing.  just a thing.  And every thing is impermanent." I literally felt the anger lift out of my body.  Yes, it sucks that i didn't have it anymore but I had the experience of it.  There was no evil intent in D's actions, it had been a mistake.  So i let the anger go.  And I made sure D knew i was over it and I was not angry with him.  We carried on with the day and the rest of the weekend.

But that's not the point to this seemingly pointless blog.

While we were away my sister-in-law was taking care of our kitties, making sure they were fed and had clean water.  She had asked me if I minded her transplanting some of her plants into our flower bed and i had been more than happy to oblige her.  I didn't realize she was going to do it that weekend and it was a nice surprise to come home to a a pretty flower bed.  We entered the house with all our bags and weekend stuff and threw it on the kitchen floor to be dealt with later.  That's when i saw the three brass Buddhas sitting on my kitchen counter.

My brother in law (I call them in-laws because D and i have been together for 12 years and how does one identify the relatives of a spouse who minds well be married to you even if you both have NO desire to marry, anyone, period?) Anyways, my brother in law had found the three buddhas in his house, which used to be his grandmothers house.  They had been there for as long as he could remember, so a long time.  He polished them up (they fit into each other to stack) and left them for me.

So- three Buddha's instead of one, given to me instead of purchased.  All having a history, a personal story.  A lesson.