More of Me to Love

I've been thinking a lot about how I am as a person. Single, at work, with friends… I have come to the conclusion that I don't do well with people who constantly need to impress people and/or be the clown to feel better about themselves, who judge others to raise themselves up, who must do or have something because, otherwise, what would people think??? I have the carnage of history behind me to prove that point. 

I love who I am. Right now. As a single woman. I am calm, happy, dare I say care free, and no longer battling. No longer feeling less than because I don't measure up to expectations. No longer numb. I find myself getting very irritated very quickly with the "pay attention to me" attitude when I am confronted with it. I turn away, thankful that I have a different outlook, one that I value greatly and never want to give up or suppress for anyone in my future. If I ever decide to put myself out there again… oh, dear Lord, I can't even think about that right now. Happy girl!

Happy FAT girl. Oy! The two plus years of serious depression and depression meds, focusing on the inside instead of the outside, have made me rolly polly all over again. Hello unwanted pounds I already shed! How did you come back so quickly and when I wasn't looking? Now that I am nearly weened completely off of the meds and am of sound mind - well, semi-sound, none of us can say we are of completely sound minds - it's time to think about getting the sound body. Of course, we all know what is good for us. Good ol' fashioned exercise and a balanced diet. Sooo boring. Right? Sorry, li'l pumpkin! No other way around it. Strap on those shoes , get off your ass, and start walking.

After a nap...

The Heat Is On!

So, it's summer in New York City. In case you can't tell by the rising temperature, you can surely tell by the gaggles and gaggles of tourists and smelly garbage and even smellier homeless people, usually sitting close to me on the subway. In a hot car. With no air conditioning. That makes you go home and immediately take a Silkwood shower to decontaminate yourself.

Ahhh, summer is on like Donkey Kong! In a stroke of genius or sheer stupidity, I have decided not to install my air conditioner. I'm moving out at the end of July, so why should I go through that hassle? I can't even lift the damn thing by myself, so I'm not going to risk the hernia. I can tough it out, I thought. I am an adult, I have a fan. It has three speeds, I can just turn it up if I get too hot. It would be just like it was when I was a kid growing up in Indiana. Except without the pool. Or the cool basement. Or the naivete of being a stupid child.

Instead, I go home, throw open the windows - it's hotter in my apartment than it is outside - open the curtains, and place my fan in front of the window. I turn it on. Nothing better than a soggy, hot breeze! Fail. Next, I strip. I don't do this willy nilly nor to any strip club music. I know that's the image you have. As if. Now, I have to be very careful. I face the back of another building with no occupied apartments facing me on the first floor. The second floor is another story. One day - not literally one day, but one of a few days - before I felt the need to strip, I was sitting on my couch working on my photography. I happened to look out my window to ponder an incredibly smart idea when I noticed a voyeur. A middle aged woman was at her window staring at me. My first thought was ewwww. My second thought was, am I fully dressed? Thankfully, that answer was yes. My third thought was how long has this creeper been staring at me??? And she is still staring at me, even thought it's been a good minute since our eyes locked. I quickly get up and closed the curtain. Before I close it, I flip her the bird. Yes, I did it. It's New York. I have become a New Yorker. I told a cabbie to go fuck himself the other day after honking at me as I was crossing the street with the Walk sign. Don't judge me.

Now, instead of throwing my curtains wide open, I just open them at the bottom. Fuck you, old lady voyeur.

The heat keeps ratcheting up. It got so bad one night that I turned my fan up from slow to medium. I fell asleep to a faster soggy, hot breeze hitting my body. And I fell asleep rather quickly, which is incredibly odd for me and my insomniatic brain, so I must have passed out from the heat. About 1/2 hour into my sleep, I am rudely awakened by an incredible clanging. In my sleep/heat induced stupor, I thought the aliens had finally arrived to take over the planet. And my apartment was chosen as their headquarters. I fumble and turn on my light and realize that the blades have fallen off of my fan and are rattling around inside the metal cage as the spindle continues to turn. About 20 minutes later and drenched in sweat, my fan is reassembled and on low. I strip off my pj's and lay on top of my sheet in defeat.

So this is what melting feels like.

Ready, Set, Go!

Okay. More crazy! Two years ago, a year ago, even 8 months ago, I would not have enjoyed and done well with this. Oh, how times have changed! I am relaxed, reveling, and ready. For what? Hmmm…

I am moving. Where? Out of my apartment for now. It's just too much moolah on my current salary. Before, this would have sent me spiraling and into paralysis. OH MY GOD! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO??? GAHHHHH!!! Cut to me in a fetal position. Now, I am actually excited. It will open me up to other opportunities, big and small. I'm out by the end of July. Hopefully, a kind soul will give me some floor space until I figure out where to land - renting a cheaper apartment, finding a roommate. Anything can happen between now and then. Exciting thing #1!

To continue moving forward, I am working on improving the financial flow. Aren't we all?!? So, I've opened up my Etsy shop for my photography. I have some of the photographs from my Provincetown trip on there now. More will follow soon! I am working on creating blank note cards as well. So much fun! Not necessarily the guaranteed way to earn extra money, but I love it. I want to share my view. I've been working through so many things in writing to express myself; it's time I do that through how I view the world. Exciting thing #2!

I'm also working on a better paying job. I've made no secret of it at work that I would be more than happy to take advancement in another city. Why not? I have nothing tying me down here. We are getting ready for a new fiscal year, and performance reviews are upcoming. Does a new fiscal year mean potential job openings? Maybe. I'm hoping! Again, absolutely no guarantees, but I have many people in my corner. Exciting thing #3!

Yep, I'm in a great place. I'm ready!

Ready to Fly

Life is getting a little crazy. Good crazy, not bad crazy, but it's still a bit stressful to deal with it. I have never been one to enjoy anything crazy because I always had to keep the order, keep the peace, tow the line, so someone else could be footloose and fancy free. I really hated that about myself, but I could never say no to the responsibility and disappoint in yet another instance. No more. I feel like I'm beginning to fly by the seat of my pants. And I kinda like it!

One of the things I did was take a vacation. By myself. For myself. A gift to myself. Could I afford it? No. But I did it anyway. I was looking to recharge my batteries and find passion again for photography. I succeeded in doing both. I woke up everyday, when I wanted to. I decided what to do, when I wanted to.  I took photos of whatever I wanted, when I wanted to.  I LOVED it. Aside, of course, from it being commonly known as a big lesbian weekend at this little hot spot - I was the square peg in the round hole = not a lesbian, oy vey! - but I still loved it. And I loved the photographs I got as a result. And the passion for it I found again.

What an amazing feeling it is when you find something that you lost. That, perhaps, you thought you had lost forever.

Photography is still very new to me, so I have a lot of exploring and catching up to do. I found photography at a time in my life when it was already a quivering mess. I latched onto it but couldn't make a serious go of it because I was surrounded by too much emotional wreckage. I couldn't look up. I couldn't look forward. I could only look down. Now? I'm looking up. I'm looking forward. I'm not looking down.

I'm looking to fly.

Me.

Happy Mother's Day, Mama!

Today is a special day, a day to celebrate our mothers. Now, we all well know that mothers should be celebrated every day because of the job that they do, but I am taking this special day to share and celebrate my mother, Sara aka "Sally". I was going to get her a card, but I wanted more than just my mother to know how much I love and appreciate her. So, this is for you, Mama.

Born on March 28, Sally was one of three children, and the only daughter, of Hugh and Helen, in a small midwestern town. Raised in that same town, she met my father, Jack. They married and, despite troubles and alcoholism, had five children - four of which are my brother and sisters. When I was very young, the troubles became too great and the marriage ended. My mother was faced with the task of supporting five children on her own and raising us on her own. Thankfully, my grandfather took all of us in so my mother could work and support us. While it may not have been my mother's dream to move back in with her father with five kids in tow, she did it to give us a chance at a better life. Choice was not a factor; she did it  because she loved us, not because it was what she wanted to do for herself. I cannot imagine the feelings and emotions that went into this decision, how much of herself she had to swallow and sacrifice. For us.

Sally made it through all of our pre-teen and teenage years, as we all did despite our best efforts to go a little haywire. Lessons have been learned, some lessons are still being worked on, and I'm sure there are many many more down the road. She continued to work and care for an aging father who didn't always show appreciation for her efforts, and five kids who were screaming at, fighting with, laughing at, and loving and hating each other. It's a wonder she didn't kill any of us - I am sure, many times, she thought about it! :)

Now that we are all grown and on our own, my mother has been dealing with a life on her own. My grandfather died when I was a teenager and left her an inheritance that had sustained her well until the recession. She's taken a hit, but she is still a survivor, making it work. Sally wishes we were around more often. To help out around the house, yes, but also to share our lives together and continue laughing and loving. She continues to be there for us with support, the loving word, the harsh word when necessary, and always ALWAYS the open heart. She will always know what is best for us even when we don't listen. She will always love us unconditionally whether we are making a mistake or making a dream come true. We are still her children, and she will love us all well beyond when death separates us. I cannot imagine my life without her in my corner, always cheering me on.

Mama, you are the best mother for me and Tricia, Helen, DeeDee, and John. I love you with all my heart and soul. I appreciate you and what you have sacrificed for us. You are my Mama. I love you.

Happy Mother's Day!

Just Another Statistic… But So Much More

Well, it's done. The divorce is final. Very bittersweet with a sense of relief. A relief for the finality of it. He moved on as soon as he could well before the final verdict - I've been completely replaced by a "friend". It doesn't help that I am finally expressing myself, and that is "inappropriate and detrimental to others". Yeah. Bullshit. Being replaced hurts, but it's a hurt that I will get over. Knowing that, in the long run, the best decision for that current situation was made. Cowardice or bravery, it doesn't matter. It's done. Breathe in the good air, and out with the bad air. In with the good, out with the bad. Ahhhhhh!

Focusing on the present and dreaming of the future is what I'm doing now. ALOT of dreaming! So much so that I'm pinching every single penny out of financial necessity to keep the spending down and increase the travel opportunities. It'll take a long time on my current salary, so I've been working on that, too. The down side to that is I'm not doing much. Walking around, okay. Watching movies, alright. staring at the ceiling, yawn… pretty boring, when you get right down to it. :) It is giving me quite a bit of time to think and continue to work on myself, interruption free. But even I get sick of myself after awhile. As interesting as I think I am, I'm really not all that interesting. Even I stop laughing at my jokes!

So, I will probably break out the camera and venture out over the weekend. I haven't done that in a very long time. I haven't felt like it. I always felt like I was being pushed into doing things for the impression it would make on others. That's tarnished many things for me, but I need to start taking all of that back to have more joy again. So, the camera battery will be charged for Saturday/Sunday excursions. Where? No idea. Maybe I'll hop on the train to Brooklyn and get off wherever I feel like it. Flushing Meadows Park? Chinatown? Bronx Zoo? Botanical Gardens in Queens? Hmmmmm….

Any suggestions? Wanna come with?

A Coddler No More!

We are stronger than we know. It’s our strength that keeps us putting one foot in front of the other as we continue to search for that something that everyone else seems to have so easily. And we keep trying. And trying. And trying. To share, to live, to laugh and love. To do that, we must communicate. 

Now, I am not the best communicator. Yes, I see you nodding your head and I hear you saying, “No shit! I’ve been telling you that for years!”. Yeah, thanks. Luckily, I am not alone. I can look to my right and to my left, and I can see people struggling to communicate. To express and share without fear of being ridiculed, talked down to, or told we are wrong. Everyone loves to judge, but we all hate to be judged. Ironic, isn’t it? The truth is, we are all terrible communicators. See that? I’m judging. :) But I promise, I have a point. 

Even those who say they are an open book are terrible communicators. Why? Because we don’t speak the same language. And I’m not talking about English, Spanish, or French here. I’m talking about tone, word choice, inflection, patience, understanding, and care. So often we fail to give each other that safety net of unconditional love, support, and acceptance as we express ourselves in our own ways. We let our own judgments cloud and interpret what we are hearing and not hearing. We put so much of ourselves on the other person that we forget to let them be themselves, that we force them to cater to our needs.

I have been a coddler for years. A coddler to tow an even line, to make life easier for some of those around me, so they would feel better about themselves. I stopped being honest and expressing myself as I need to in order to open up and be free. I did so to try to protect someone else. Did it work? Of course not! In coddling them, I ended up coddling myself. Giving myself the out for various reasons in many situations. In protecting them from “the unacceptable me”, I in essence put up a protective barrier around myself. It was a barrier of brick and mortar, steel and stone. Inpenetrable once it became so thick, to those trying to get in, and to me trying to get out.

Now, I am in a position where I am no longer bound to that coddling. You could say that I’ve taken a vow of non-coddling from now on. And instead of being silent, I am going to speak up and be heard. It’s better for both sides, even if speaking up hurts some feelings for awhile. Hurt feelings fade, and logic comes in to reason it out. It’s just getting to that point, and no longer giving myself the out.

Coddling, you're my bitch now!

Depression, meet my fist.

Depression. It's a bitch. I've dealt with it for years without even realizing I was dealing with it. And, trust me, I didn't deal with it all that well. At all. It affects nearly everyone, but we are so ashamed to admit it because it may be viewed as a weakness. I no longer care, and neither should you. I have been dealing with depression for YEARS. It has colored my world view and taken part in my decisions - even taking many decisions away from me.

Depression is an emotional, psychological, and chemically imbalanced monster that is so insidious, you don't realize it's there most of the time. It hides itself in overeating, oversleeping, overreacting, anger, lethargy, fear, and insecurity. Depression makes you feel so out of control that you grab on to the littlest things to "over-control". It shames you into keeping it to yourself so it can continue to eat away at you. Depression wants you to be alone. It wants you to push away loved ones who are concerned because it doesn't want you to hear what they have to say to help you. Depression colors concerned words into judgment of your self worth. It's a beast!

A dear friend just realized she has been dealing with depression for years. It has affected her relationships, just as it has mine. I want to let her know that she is not alone. She doesn't have to hide. I will not judge. Those who love her, if they truly understand (and explanation with questions, while uncomfortable, will lead to understanding), will not judge. The support is there. You, my dear, are not alone and valued greatly.  You can now be calm and take the time needed to find your footing and your true self. To find the joy in the little things and laugh. This is about you; if a partner or loved one cannot handle it, then let them fall by the wayside for now because they will only pull you back in to the depression. Absolutely, it will hurt like hell. But you have the strength to do this and whatever may happen so you can get back to you. Depression is no longer a death sentence! Just take it one hug at a time.

Hugs are so underrated!

All That Glitters...

A spark came back today when I found these shoes:

That's right. A pair of glitter Oxfords. I saw them and wasn't sure about them. But I still decided to try them on. When I did, I giggled. Yes, giggled. I love them! Sure, they may be trendy and a fad that I won't be able to wear for long, but they brightened my day! So I got them.

Only in New York City, friends.

I'm giggling again. Literally and metaphorically. Giggling! Weeeee!!!

Get along, little doggy...

Traveling. That is one thing that I have not done, that I've always said no to, because I was/still am afraid of flying. It's the height that terrifies me. As well as the crashing factor. It absolutely boggles my mind that people willingly pay money to fly in a bullet with wings that could just drop out of the sky. It's like finding out that someone who says, "I'm on your side!", then they run away from you. Insane!

HOWEVER, I am gaining new perspective. I am feeling freer than I have in a really long time. I am feeling freer to be myself, to do what I want. I don't have the pressure of doing something to impress someone. If I do something or don't do something, it is my choice and no one else's business. Nice! I am choosing to do what I want to do, and not to satisfy someone else. Constraints are gone, my yes is coming back, and I'm starting to feel adventurous. I have nothing holding me back. I'm a free bird!

So, I am saving my pennies and deciding where all I want to go. So many possibilities! I would rather avoid the tourist traps, because I don't care if I am seen or not. The Caribbean? Nice, but everyone goes there. That's a place to be seen. But that could be a nice, short trip. How about a longer one? Sweden? Mother Russia? Iceland to see the Northern Lights? Thailand? Berlin? Northern Canada even?

The thing is, I don't want to go just to go. I want to go with a purpose. Even if that purpose is to meditate and reflect on my life. To live in someone else's shoes for a day. To explore and confirm that there is more to life than impressing and coddling and being likable. So, where to?

I like that. 

Dreams

I had an incredible dream last night. It's not often that I have a dream that leaves such an impression on me as this one did…

I dreamt that I was naked, swimming through the streets of New York City. I was deliciously curvy and deliriously happy. When I got out of the water and stepped onto the sidewalk, I was no longer in New York City, but I was in a place that was home. The sun was bright and shining, the sky was clear blue with tufts of beautiful white clouds - just like heaps of cotton balls - and the air was warm and cool at the same time. I was in a city with new and old buildings. There was incredibly green grass, young as well as mature trees in full beauty, and stunning flowers all around. As I walked home, feeling my nakedness, the landscape was sometimes flat, sometimes hilly. No one noticed my nakedness, all just smiled warmly at me as I passed by. I felt welcomed and accepted for the first time. Fred Thompson walked for a short while in front of me, as if he were there to lead me home if I needed it.

Awesome dream.

Once

There are moments in life when your vision changes. These can be big moments or little moments. It can be a large shift or just a small one. I suppose it depends on how important it is that you see it happening. My biggest changes have happened in the smallest, most intimate moments for me. No, not in the bedroom. For me, they have happened when I have been witnessing a true and achingly beautiful moment on the stage. And it's typically through a tragically beautiful character in a tragically beautiful moment. Last night, I experienced one of these moments as I witnessed Once unfold onstage.

This story, through its emotionality and soul connection, touched me deeply through self recognition, awareness, and longing. Two people experienced and shared in five days the emotional connection most of us long for throughout our lives. There was not groping, panting, or fucking. It was just two people who, through the course of a week, emotionally changed each other's lives. For the better? I don't know, possibly. They came out wiser and with a more open heart. They came out with a desire to live and the courage to move forward.

I came out with a desire to live and move forward. To stop wasting time. To know that human connection is worth it in the face of the pain and heartache that it can bring. That opening yourself up is opening up your world. Don't sell yourself short. Believe in yourself and pull yourself up by your boot straps. Face it. Live it. Love.

With the right and unexpected connections, it's totally worth it. Scary, but totally worth it.

Day 1.

Infatuation

Infatuation. Many confuse this word with love. It is not love for another person. Infatuation is the love of an idea, not reality. It is conditional; it is not lasting. Infatuation is my "love" for Hugh Jackman and Chrstian Bale. It is not based in reality.

Saying you've been infatuated with someone for years is not a compliment. Not really. Saying "I love your work!" is a compliment. "You're a great actor!" is a compliment. Saying you're infatuated with someone just means "I love the idea of you.". It's like, "I'm your biggest fan! But why did you drive drunk? I would NEVER do that. Why would you go out with that guy? I don't approve of him. Why would you watch that TV show? I hate that show." It's having the idea of someone else but not allowing reality and humanity to be included in that idea.

When you realize that someone you love has been infatuated with you, some things start to make sense. Like, it doesn't matter how much of yourself you gave up to try to make the other person happy, because it never would have worked. While someone may be in love with the idea of you as strong, they cannot handle that in reality. They may praise you for being outspoken but hate it when you speak up and voice your opinion when you contradict them. They love your independence but then shame you because you won't go to them to show your vulnerability; when you do show your vulnerability and show that you need someone, they are aghast. It ends up being a catch 22. 

Finding someone who truly loves you unconditionally is tough. My mother loves me unconditionally. It won't keep my bed warm at night, but it will certainly keep my heart warm. I may never find a man who loves me unconditionally for all of my strengths and all of my flaws. It certainly isn't what I need to survive. I'll keep living. In New York City for now, but who knows what my future will bring? I don't.

But it sure would be nice to have a warm bed... 

Acknowledge!

Self reflection. Many loathe those words! Many fear those words. Many avoid those words at all cost. It's never pretty when the blame game meets self justification. My response?

Shut the fuck up. Listen. Stop going to your yes men - or women - for your sympathy and self justification. When you go to others for your answers instead of focusing on the truth from within, the answers you get are wrong. Flip your switch from pouty child to responsible adult and accept your part. No one person is to blame. Playing the blame game gets you nowhere because there are two sides to everything. It's time to pull up your big boy or girl panties and acknowledge that.

Acknowledge silence.

Acknowledge truth.

Acknowledge self value and self worth.

Acknowledge value in others instead of making them feel "less than" due to your perception of their flaws.

Acknowledge and accept imperfection in yourself and others.

The path to emotional freedom and well being is not through others but through yourself. No one can make you happy because of what they can do for you. Only you can make you happy with what you can do for yourself. Stop looking to the outside for your happiness. That's just noise and distraction and temporary. Find it from within what resides in us all.

And no, I'm not reading a bunch of self help books. I am reading, but I'm not following someone else's "10 Steps to Happiness!". It is true self reflection. This is about me. You think it's about you? Why? Does something strike a chord or nerve and force a reaction from you? Okay. Then it's about you, too.

I'm gonna let that stew for awhile. Marinate. Infuse and spread.

Hello, Again, Hello

Well, hello. It's been quite some time, hasn't it? I dropped off of the face of the Earth for awhile as I turned my life upside down. Don't know how to get it right side up, but I suppose that's all part of the process. I stopped writing because it was hurting someone else’s feelings. They didn’t know how to not take it personally. So I stopped. I stopped expressing myself. Again. To prevent them from hurting. I never should have stopped. It just made it worse again.

Divorce is a bummer. Especially when you can't give the other person what they need and you have no idea what it is you want. Because you don't know who you are anymore. That didn't happen overnight, but the realization certainly creeps up on you and smacks you in the face. Ouch. It all comes down to the choices we make that we think will make it easier for the other person. For good or bad. For better or worse. Sometimes it's just kinder to let the other person go so you can stop putting them through the slog that you can't figure out yourself. Time and distance gives perspective and answers; therapy and Zoloft help too.

Divorce sucks, especially if you still love the other person. It really sucks when you get to a point that you can't love them they way they want to be loved. This has happened to me. I am not an anomaly in this situation, it has happened all before to people far better than I. And each situation is unique yet oddly the same. The reasons vary. The result is the same. Hurt. Pain. Loss of a friend. Not being able to give a good answer. Letting them go. Was it the coward's way out? Maybe. Was it the right decision? No idea. But there was no way for me to find the answers in that situation. That had to change in order for perspective to be gained because it wasn't happening any other way.

The answers you finally find don't make it any better. What is tough is that, even though you're going through the motions you can get through when you're in that situation, you aren't feeling the emotions you should because you've buried them. I buried them. I buried them because it caused a riot in the other person when I expressed them. I buried them because it wasn't acceptable how I expressed them. I buried them because they didn't fit into the version of what I was expected to be. The problem is is that I buried them so deep, that they couldn't be reached anymore. No matter what I did. No matter what someone else tried. Because the situation never changed. I became emotionally and physically paralyzed. I lost my yes. I was a prisoner of my own fear, withdrawing from everything. Wow, it's so much easier to see this now! Hind sight is indeed 20/20.

The fact is that we all have baggage. From a divorce. A breakup. Family. Our parents. It's hard to recognize it - so easy to overlook it and pretend it's not there but see it in others. That we're the exception to the baggage. No one is the exception to the baggage. You don't have baggage now that you've been through this; you've always had it, and it has impacted how you handle the situation. This situation. Now.

So, as I come back around to myself, the self that's been buried for so long, don't expect it to be smooth sailing. I expect it to be bumpy. And painful. Sometimes quick and sometimes painstakingly slow. But I'll get there. And when I do, I will be me again. Me, not some version of me. And I will be loved and accepted for that. Not for who I should be, could be, would be, but for me now. And forever. No matter if I become something or stay nothing. I will be accepted and loved, if just by me.