"I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear." - Joan Didion








Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Death of Communication

Recently I received an email (and subsequent replies) from certain members of the Bunny's side of the family - the side that I have learned, through past negative experiences, to steer clear of. Curiosity getting the better of me, I scanned through that first message. What caught my attention was the use of the phrase, "to my family." It was this sentence that stopped me cold.

I thought for a moment about who I consider to be part of my family. To me, "family" are people - through blood or association - who value my contribution to their lives. People who listen to me, ask my advice, call me out of the blue to just see what I am up to. People who emotionally support me. People who tell me when I am being stupid; but in a kind, unhurtful way. People who show me - by their actions and behavior - that they love me, no matter what.

In thinking back to those past experiences with the Bunny's relatives, not one speck of this criteria is met. But interestingly enough, this realization doesn't inspire any powerful emotional response from me. My thought process follows this vein: Me, them. Different values. Different lives. The Problem: their expression usually causes me pain. The Solution: close off access.

And the answer was suddenly clear. Their power is only as significant as the focus I give it. Kind of like that scene in Nightmare on Elm Street, where Nancy realizes that if she just turns her back on Freddy Kreuger, he won't be able to hurt her. She turns her back, and he vanishes into a puff of smoke.

I read two sentences of the second email, then I deleted it. By the time I received the third email, it was easy to delete without reading because all of my desire to communicate, to connect with these people, has died. In fact, the feelings I have for 'everything Bunny' - the human being he was, our life together - is more alive to me than anything with these people will EVER be.

One other thing that sticks with me from that first email. The on and on of how the Bunny and this person had such a "solid relationship." Yea, right. Talk is cheap. You can fantasize all you want about the relationship you think you had, now that the Bunny is dead and you have no opportunity to walk that talk. Just in the same way the people you care about - if they exist - might fantasize about you, when your day comes. But that doesn't change history. That doesn't change all the hurtful things you are capable of doing to people you supposedly care about while they are alive.

So, here is where we officially part ways. I wish you well in the life of your choosing. I choose something different.

Peace.



Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Edgy

I dreamed last night that my husband was making love to me... and I woke up very early in the morning (unusual for me - I'm usually not crawling out of bed until after 7AM) feeling VERY agitated. "Antsy" is my word for it. So that was how my day began today. Not a good sign, at ALL.

People that know all of my most intimate secrets know that as far as physical relationships go, I've never been what you'd call an "expert." Not to imply that I would rather be a big slut, mind you, but as far as sex goes the whole concept has always been somewhat baffling to me. Which is quite ironic, given that the Bunny was a guy with a fairly active sex drive. And I came to realize that, when my heart and my mind and my soul are tied up in it, I am a much more willing participant.

I worry about that now. I worry about the fact that through my relationship with the Bunny, I evolved into a higher comfort level in terms of physical intimacy. I know I probably come across as this intimidating, aggressive woman in real life - which invariably scares most men off - but I am definately no "ice princess." Even now, where I feel like I am capable of being in another such relationship, I don't really have the desire or energy to expend on the "looking."

And why not, you may wonder? Well for me, it begins in my head. And what I am afraid of is that the barriers and obstacles and walls around my brain are so thick, so strong, no one's going to be able to break through them. No one is going to be able to get to... me. I think my underlying fear is that even if that were to somehow happen, once they get in there they aren't going to understand me. Accept me. Love me. And the thought of that sort of rejection is too painful for me to bear.

I never understood how I managed to be lucky enough for the Bunny to find me. Because that's exactly what happened - I certainly can take no credit for finding HIM. In fact, if it were up to me, we never would have dated each other. That's how bad MY judgement is. And at this point in my life, that's probably about as good as my ability to recognize and appreciate another potential mate is right now. Crappy.

I spent some time visiting Liz this afternoon. I couldn't wait to get there, and when I did I immediately burst into tears - kind of like I knew it was okay to cry in that place. With my best friend close by. But I felt far from comforted; I felt very, very alone. I felt abandoned. I tried to talk to Liz, but because I knew she wasn't listening to me and couldn't talk back, it just wasn't the same. And I looked at the beautiful blue sky, and the ripples in the nearby lake, and the leaves gently moving in the trees - and I asked God why. Why am I destined to lose all the people that love me?

And as I was sitting there, crying, feeling sorry for myself... my boss and another gal on our team walked up, with an older woman. They were showing the woman some property. And my boss (who is the only other person I've met in my life who is very similar in personality and characteristics and experiences to myself) crouched down next to me on the grass, gave my shoulder a squeeze, and told me how blessed she was that I had come into her life. That I did a lot of great things for a lot of people, and that she admired my strength. I was an inspiration to her.

She wasn't put off when I sobbed, "I hate my life right now" and insisted I didn't know what I was doing. She smiled, looked deep into my eyes, and told me: "Shirley, sometimes you need to take some time for yourself. Just put all your worries to the side, and do what you need to do for YOU." And I thought of all the things I was worried about, and I thought back to my advice to everyone around me going through some of the losses I have also been going through: "It's going to be okay. Just take one day at a time."

And I got the message. I didn't lose all the people that love me; as long as I am alive and I have the capacity to love others, I will always have people that love me. I have to trust in that.

Here's a good quote I came across today. Compliments of Mr. Spencer W. Kimball, it fits the vein of this post:

"God does notice us, and He watches over us. But it is usually through another person that He meets our needs."

For all of you out there who are hurting, for whatever reason, whatever the circumstances - you must believe that there are people in your life that love you. They do. Absolutely. Those people may not be perfect, and they certainly aren't mind-readers. So whatever you need, it's up to you to communicate it. And if you keep putting it out there, and keep putting it out there, and keep putting it out there... the Universe, your friend, will find ways to help you get those needs filled. Peace.



Monday, November 1, 2010

Realignment

I was having lunch with a friend the other day; he asked me how I was doing. I am starting to get busier working with my families on the advanced planning side, drumming up more singing opportunities, feeling myself settling into some sort of routine - but I'm not happy. I think back to the Bunny and in comparison to how I felt during our marriage, no. Definately not happy.

Which doesn't mean that I am unhappy exactly; it's a very strange condition to find myself in. To add to my emotional dilemma, my kid was sworn into the Marines a week or so ago which means I've been forced to acclimate to the idea that he will be leaving my home in a very short period of time to start his own life. I'm glad I've managed (as a parent) to get him to this point, and naturally he is very excited; but as far as how I am going to feel without him close by every day? I won't be able to answer that question until he leaves. People close to me have asked me for that answer as well - I understand the worry that motivates those inquiries. But this is life. Life continues to move forward, and I must continue along with it.

If I had to pinpoint where I am right now, I would say that it is "in transition." I'm in between. As always, hoping for the best. Searching for inspiration. Trying to connect with people - trying to make it easier for those people to emotionally affect me. Interact. And ultimately, bring back my life's meaning. Sometimes it's a struggle, sure. But this is life.

And life is the keeper of my salvation. I just have to have faith.