I have
held my tongue
held my breath
held my heart
for way too long.

I just can't keep it in any longer
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If you are offended by the occasional wirty dord, obscenity, or naked truth please put on your sunglasses.

Wait.

I think you should all put on your sunglasses.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween

Last Halloween, I got the fright of my life, from which I have still not recovered.

In the space of three hours, I experienced the death of my most favorite things: The Illusion of Love and the Illusion of Family.

It’s said that what is taken away is replaced. If there has been a replacement, I do not perceive it.

Sure, other things have happened since, few have been positive. The stripping away that began last Halloween continued for 364 days. What’s left is the cold, hard truth: Most of the people with whom I have sought some sort of connection reciprocated because they expected me to fulfill/meet/assuage a deep, narcissistic wound.
  • Your refusal to connect with me was driven by an ego-fueled desire for me to not know how bad things have gotten for you. Newsflash: It was quite obvious how bad things had gotten for you in our first communication. I knew that going in. I chose to go in anyway. Out of love. That freaked you out even more. So, in the spirit of self-preservation, you destroyed me. Please consider how you have destroyed yourself in this process. For your own sake.
  • Your demands for attention are really directed at your Mother. However, you are over 45 and it’s time to get over it. Capitulation to your outrageous demands will not make you feel better. Sleeping with every person you pass will not make you feel better. Gossip and back-stabbing will not make you feel better. Newsflash: What will make you feel better is resolution and recognition from your Mother (the same goes for you, Previous Bullet Point). Please go back to the Source and work it out with her. Stop expecting the rest of us to hold your hand because Mommy upset you. And please, consider how spreading misinformation will come back to you in thrices. For your own sake.
  • No matter how much you wish me away, I exist. And will continue to. Newsflash: While my Dad breathes, no amount of dismissing or ignoring is going to remove me. He sees how cruel you are to me, so I suggest you change tactics. For your own sake.
So there it is: The sum total of the people I counted on, the people I placed my trust in, have not one clue as to what any of that means. They are too consumed by their unacknowledged anger.

What does this say about me?

(I know: Like attracts like. Let’s not discuss that right now.)

Yes, these Velveteen People have been replaced (for the most part) by real ones and for that, I am SO grateful. Thank you, Reals, for stepping into – at the last minute -- the holes left by the Pretends and wordlessly, without question, helping to put it all back together. I know who you are. (Finally).

What I am most pissed about is that Halloween is my favorite holiday and I have allowed my bitterness over last Halloween to mar this one. Well, no more.

This is NOT last year, and, while the most frightful things remain, most of the BS does not. The BS only continues because I keep thinking about it. Well, no more.

I may have to slit my throat to do it, but I will stop dwelling on my unwitting participation in the BS and stop being mad at the people who dragged me into it.

There are no friends or enemies, only teachers.

Thank you, Teachers of Displaced Infantile Rage. I have learned my lesson. I now give you my leave.


Saturday, October 16, 2010

2010

Unbelievably, I now hate 2010 more than I hated 2009.

Yesterday, I heard the most outrageous thing I have heard all year

As you know, there have been some DOOZIES:
  • Why can't YOU pay for my trash?
  • Do you think you can get me a job?
  • I DESERVE an explanation!
  • I have no idea what's wrong.
And yet, in the bright light of the beautiful autumn day, these pale in comparison to:

I have at least five tumors on my brain, one on my right eye and one near my spine.  All inoperable.

All good vibes in the Universe your way, TR.



Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Family

If you do not remember what happened,
and I do not want to remember what happened,
can we agree
that it never occurred?

Monday, October 4, 2010

Stubbornosity

It has been said that I raise being stubborn to an art form and generally, I am quite proud of that.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who are unable to stick to their own decisions. Of course, I am not talking about changing one’s mind because an initial decision turned out to be wrong or misguided or sheer folly – that kind of decision requires strength.

I’m talking about the kind of wishy-washy back and forth that, ultimately, is a betrayal of self. Vacillating on a decision so long that the thing/person about which a decision needs to be made leaves, withers and/or dies IS a decision: It is a decision to not actively participate in one’s own life – the ultimate form of betrayal, IMHO.

However, being so stubborn that one refuses to consider the existence of any other path is starting to piss me off, too. This is the kind of thing that can kill people.

Trying to understand the lesson of this latest development, I wonder what is being reflected back to me by the Great Mirror of Life. Have I been so stubborn that the only reason I didn’t kill someone was because of their own intractable stubbornosity?

I see the circles here: The only reason Blueprint’s intractable stubbornness didn’t kill me was because of my own and the only reason my Dad lives is because of his.

But what is being reflected back? How is it all related? I know Blueprint and I have tangoed for lifetimes, but my Dad and The Surgeon? How much of an asshole has my Dad been to have to suffer so much now? Who does he owe? And…when is it all going to end?

I realize Grace has blessed this situation since its inception; however, all of the aggravation and the frustration and the heartache and THE ENERGY IT HAS TAKEN TO NOT LASH OUT is disproportionate.

I realize I should be grateful for any Grace. Some people have none (or they refuse to see it, which is the same thing). I am depressed and angry about The Surgeon’s steadfast refusal to participate the discussion about why my Dad is worse today than he was before his $250,000 surgery, while at the same time beating myself up for being so upset when really, things could be so, so much worse.

It all seems to be a titanium circle that is getting tighter and tighter around my neck.