The traffic has never been as bad as it has been since the floods. “Detour routes” is what they’re calling it. There’s still parts of the city that are impassable. The detoured routes happen to be right where I live so my 3 mile drive home from work has taken anywhere from 30 minutes to, like today, an hour and 45 minutes.
After work today, before I realized that my route home would equate to the reading time of War and Peace, I started on my drive. Providing I’m not rushing to get anywhere else it’s usually a calm drive. I have my music and just a little bit of peace as I keep my phone on mute and sing along to whatever comes on. Today, however, a song came on that I couldn’t stand and I decided to turn off the radio completely. There I was sitting behind three accidents without any exit in sight with nothing but the quiet hum of my car.
I have been reading about different types of meditation to find one that’s a bit easier for me. I’m not so good at regular meditation so I did this thing where you actually train your brain to “chase away” thoughts and it’s a long winded explanation but it actually worked for a moment. So, there I was without a thought at all and my mind felt so empty and light. This was a feeling that I haven’t felt for a very long time. It was a peaceful, tranquil moment and in that very moment, when I didn’t think of anything, I felt happy. I wasn’t trying to be happy. I wasn’t doing something that made me happy. I was just happy in that moment because I wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone. For that instance, there was no deadline, contract, or proposal that had to be done. I wasn’t thinking about getting my steps in through exercise or what I needed on a grocery list or the stack of dishes that had been there for a week.
So my obvious summation of that moment was that I needed to practice some sort of meditation or request some amnesia inducing blunt force trauma soon. I realize that being in a peaceful place in my head is something that I’m not sure I’ve ever really felt. I grew up way too fast and had way too many things to think about from a young age which is partial why the appeal of drugs was so vast. Even my first true love, music, can sometimes betray me. I find myself listening to a lyric or ten and realizing that those words were ripped out of my own head or heart and for a brief moment I feel vulnerable or violated until I realize that there’s some sort of sick sadistic comfort in knowing that someone else has felt that type of pain.
But I know that silence is something that I don’t hear much and not just symbolically in my head but in reality. While I’m at work, there’s the clicking of keyboards, ringing of phones and the faint sounds of everyone else’s music co-mingled with mine. On any one of my many drives to no where of importance there’s the sound of my music or the teeth gritting noises of traffic, construction or emergency vehicles. When I’m at home there’s a grotesque sound that comes from my fridge, the background noise of the TV, upstairs neighbor or people chatting outside. While I’m in bed there’s the sounds of a beautifully hypnotic thunderstorm that is supposed to induce my sleep. Never is there nothing.
This might be why, on some of my more elaborate running away day dreams, I dream of a far off forest where I just pitch a tent and sleep under the stars far off from the noises of a city life. But, to this day, it’s just a day dream never having come to fruition. Peace… Peace of mind, heart, soul and sounds is what I am craving right now. This is why they say, “Ignorance is bliss”. If you’re ignorant to most everything then you have nothing to worry about. Me, on the other hand, worries every day. I worry about work, family, my future, my friends, my place in all of this.
My peacefulness in my drive tonight only lasted a moment, until I was ready to come back to reality. Since my reality is worrying about everything I suppose I had some catch up to do. I worry about my job. Works crazy and we’re about to go through something very big in the company and I’m worried about the other employees. I worried about my family and what we are going to do about my mothers birthday and since it’s on the same day as mother’s day it’s especially hard to come up with something new and different every year. I worry about my health because I worry about everything else so much it’s usually the last thing on my mind. I worry about friendships and the future… It’s amazing what you can worry about in such a short amount of time, if given the chance.
Being that I’m a control freak, it’s hard to just “let go and let God”. Truth is, I still don’t think he listens to me or if he does then there’s parts of my life that are for His soul purpose of making me a punch line. Okay, maybe I don’t actually believe that but this is not where I would have put myself 20 years ago.
One more thing that made me happy though is the chance for more rain this weekend. I know that sounds selfish considering there’s so much water everywhere round here but rain and thunderstorms has always given me an excuse to stay home and be sort of a bum. There’s speculation that Saturday and Sunday will bring floods again and this time I’ll probably be entertaining myself through the storms, unlike last time. I haven’t heard from my friend and not even sure he was bothered by my sleep retreat last Sunday or if he even noticed. I, of course, worried about that friendship too on my drive home. I worried that his attention span or his patience will get the best of him and he’ll find something new to do on Sunday’s now. But because I’ve thrown up my hands in defeat I’m not sure that his absence will destroy me like it has in the past. I’ve decided that whatever happens is what’s meant to happen. I’ve done all I can with us. I’ve been patience, nice, kind, loving and understanding. I think I’m just exhausted at giving a shit anymore which has always been a one way street.
We shall see what this weekend has to offer though. What I’m expecting or actually hoping for is an early rise on Saturday with coffee and then to just bundle up on the couch and watch a list of documentaries that I saw of flipboard. I’m expecting to come in and out of a sleep induced coma all day and maybe, just maybe, get a small bit for work done. I might even choose to turn off my phone starting Friday night till Monday morning. Possibly indulge in a bit of wine. I don’t know but so far, none of the requests to “do something” this weekend have filled me with near as much happy as the moment that I thought of absolutely nothing today.
Today’s drive was a blissful piece of happy that I needed. Sometimes, silence really is golden.
This last week has been strange. While contemplating it last night, I was up till almost 5 am then awake again at 9 this morning. I was exhausted but looking forward to spending some more time with THE friend because Game of Thrones was back on tonight and it’s one of our many shows that we watch. However, things did not go as planned.
To say his moods are all over the place isn’t fair. Mine are as well and they’re usually dictated by his. I assumed (which you should never do) that after an text “argument” the other day that things would feel a little different tonight. I suppose more so that I wished they’d have been different. He still holds the reward for the person that I’ve been most honest with ever. Things may not get worked out the moment they happen but we usually discuss things after the fact. They might change for a moment or two but they usually go back to where they were. This used to be ok.
Over the last week while he was here, which I was happy about, I had some issues. Clean up after yourself. Don’t eat things that I ask you not to because they’re for my breakfast and a few other points. I admitted to him that he made me feel invisible and that it always feels as though he never really wants to be here. Those words hurt the worst to admit because I’ve never felt that before. I thought with his response of “that really bothers me that I make you feel that way” that things would change. Again, that’s what I get for assuming.
I have many friends that I see more often than him and that I speak to more often than him and yet we always find things to talk about. We put our phones away and just talk about anything. Tonight, however, there was a moment when there was 37 minutes of silence because he was buried in his phone. 37 minutes is a long time when all you want is for someone to prove to you that they actually want to be here. So, I went into my room to charge my phone and lied down for a moment. The next thing I know I’m waking up about an hour later to a dark house.
I don’t blame him for leaving but in a funny twist of fate I wonder if he realizes that that’s what it’s like to be around him. Here’s the other funny part. I live my life, with him, in two sections. The first being how I feel and how he makes me feel. The second is why he does the things he does and how he feels about things. I never want to upset him. I never WANT to argue with him and I NEVER want to make him feel like he makes me feel. Why? Because it fucking sucks.
On the way home the other night, when I knew he was still at my home, my mom decided that would be a great time to call me and tell me that my dad is going blind. My family has a strange way of breaking bad news. When I got home I thought that would have been a nice time to “let him in” and tell him and maybe have him help me inventory my feelings about that except he was passed out in what looked to be a depressed slumber so I decided not to ruin his night and decided to forgo what might have turned in to an emotion conversation.
That’s the thing. I think about his feelings. I try to step lightly on egg shells ALL THE TIME. Half my grocery list is things that he likes, or wanted, or mentioned in passing. I think about him way more often than I should and I suffer for it. He can’t see what he’s doing to me because he can’t see outside of his own self. He has no idea what goes through my head and this next part is the part that would hurt him beyond what I’m ever willing to do. He has no idea how hard it is to be his friend. The next part is the hardest for me to admit to myself and that’s I often wonder how the hell I’m still in love with him but I am. Through all the shitty conversations that we’ve actually had, through the shitty things he does and says and through all HIS tough times it is still the hardest decision in my life to leave him even though I feel like he doesn’t give a shit about this friendship. He takes me for granted all the time and sometimes, I think he manipulates my feelings to see what I’ll do. Or what’s worse than that is that I am more terrified to realize that he doesn’t think about me at all. That would be the worst case, I think.
For some reason, he knows the emotional me. No one else really knows that. I thought about this the other night. I’d gone out with some friends to our usual Friday night spot and was flirting with the very young waiter. I was being who I usually am around others. By the end of the night he’d slipped me his phone number and said we should hang out which is pretty much any young man’s code for lets get nasty. I thought about that tonight because THE friend and I don’t have that type of relationship. There’s so much crap mixed in everything. There’s emotions, favors and secrets. Not so much secrets between us but I think we hold a lot back from each other. Maybe we don’t. Short of some sort of miracle or intervention I can’t see this getting any better. As much as I talk about it on here I think I can already write our ending which might just be coming way too soon. I think I always knew our story never had a happy ending but I wished that there was so much more happy in the middle.
What I need from this “ship” is to know that he actually wants to spend time with me. That I make a positive difference in his life. I need to know that this isn’t a friendship of convenience for him or that this is his last resort. I need him to not make me feel like an invisible piece of shit and I need to know why I can’t “quit him”.
It’s a bit funny that I try to give all the worst parts of this relationship to my therapists and they’ve all had some sort of insight that goes way beyond what I’ll ever understand or believe. I explain to them all the shitty parts of this and how I feel so completely unappreciated yet they always have come back with some insight as to where his feelings might actually lie. So the therapists, the fortune tellers, the shamans and my own best friend all betray me with the impression that he does actually care and have feelings that he might not even know he’s got. I hear all that and want to act like a child by putting my fingers in my ears and screaming, “NONE OF YOU KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! THERE ARE NO FEELINGS! HE DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT! AND HE CERTAINLY DOESN’T LOVE ME!”.
It boils down to this… You can say anything you want. It doesn’t matter. If your actions don’t backup those words then you’re just lying. Bottom line. You can’t say, “I love you and care about you” and then treat me, my home and my words like they don’t matter. Life doesn’t work like that. But instead of screaming, fighting and saying things that could hurt him, I just fall asleep in a dark cold room 20 feet away because sitting next to him in 37 minutes of silence, while he desperately seeks out the rest of the world and shows me that every one else is more important was the easier thing to do.
I would love to know why he feels the need to take the harshness this world has bestowed upon him out on me, the one who’s been here with everything that he needs, wants and could ever have for three plus years now. Where the fuck is my happy ending and if I don’t get one then what’s the point in all of this anyway? About a month after we starting spending time together, three plus years ago, he once told me that he felt I was an angel that came to him. I wish that his actions made me actually believe that because it might have been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. That seems like such a long time ago now. The trouble with memories is that you can always remember a time that was better than it is right now.
I can’t believe I’m crying over him again. When will I use up my tears on this one boy? Why will my tears not dry up? I’m sick of crying over someone that’s never cried over me.
Yesterday I was feeling bad, pain-wise. I slept most of the day. I went into the kitchen later in the day to fill a water jug and just saw nothing but a mess. There was spilled wine, loose rice, caked oil and both sinks full of dishes. It seemed to be the appropriate symbolism for the relationship that created that mess. It annoyed and upset me because in my mind it’s just disrespect. I couldn’t even fill a water jug and didn’t have the energy through my pain to fix this mess.
I tried to not let it assault me personally but I couldn’t help but feel that it’s this complacency that I dread. These are the reasons that I feel like I’m losing a connection to someone that I once felt I’d never lose. That makes me sad.
I think I’ve not felt that connection for some time now but have been trying to lie to myself about it. It’s all about that, that’s what bound us together. So what binds me now? We have no real “friendship”, it’s not sexual or spiritual. It used to feel that way. Neither one of us tells our friends that we hang out. It’s like some weird, strange shameful secret, on his part. On mine part it’s because I don’t want to upset him by saying something I shouldn’t.
This is an unacceptable place that we have gotten to and one that can no longer be sustained. It’s so unfair to me because I get nothing from this except sadness. I thought my feelings would change from my last post. I thought that I’d feel better but I feel worse.
I’d read my last post again and thought it might have sounded as though I was done because he doesn’t love me. I’ve always been clear on that. It has to do with the callousness of his words he uses. Who needs their own feelings trampled on, and thrown back in their face with disrespect? No one. I would never discuss “finding the one” with someone that had feelings for me as if their heart didn’t matter and never did.
It reminded me of when we were more than just one night of the week. When we laughed and made each other mix CDs. Then I realized that after each and everyone of his “sweet” moments came a request for a favor. How did I become this carpet of his to do with how he pleases? How did I become this human trash can for him to dump the crap on?
I had this thought that if I was actually a close friend to him and I was telling him of all the things someone did to me likes he’s done, if he cared he would have told me that I was stupid and that I deserve to be treated better than that. Funny how that would have worked. This would be where the good days no longer are more than the bad days.
I can’t believe I’m in this place. I can’t believe I’ve let things get this bad. For what? For what? I know that I’ve never treated anyone like this so its not karma. Especially with this relationship. I’ve been more kind, concerned and accommodating than with anyone else in my life and it’s the worst return in history. I guess it’s one of those compensation things.
I just realized that he hates these feelings that i had/have but they’re what’s kept me here for him so long and now in a karmic twist he treats my feelings like my home and makes me want to be further away from here than ever. So amongst the spilled wine, the dirty dishes and the broken glass I found you’ll be able to see my heart at the bottom of it all. It’s in tiny pieces with his foot prints all over. What did I ever do to be treated like that? The answer? Nothing. I have never done anything like that.
My therapist is going to enjoy me today. At least I can be done knowing that there’s nothing more that I could have done. Thank God for therapy, exercise and knowing what I deserve. This too shall pass after a good scrub down of my kitchen later.
I’ve spent years trying to look at our situation through both our eyes. I wish, just once, he would have done the same.
There’s a fine line between hopes and fears and sometimes you can hope and fear the same things. Hope for love but fear getting it because then there’s something to lose. Hope for independence but fear for it because someone might not be there to catch you when you fall. Hope for a different place than where you are but fear that place might be worse. It’s a tough thing.
I read an article the other day about people who stay in a deep dark places because they don’t feel that there’s anywhere further down and in hopes that they don’t lift themselves up only to be let down again, they are (for lack of a better word) happy to be at their worst.
Over the last few weeks, months and possibly years I’ve felt like I’ve let so many things go in my life out of fear but I gift wrapped my decisions by saying that if it was meant to be then it would be. Some days I still feel that is the case but others I feel like I just effed up.
I think that it all boiled over this week, starting on Sunday then just got progressively worse until I finally saw someone. I decided to go back to my therapist because my dark side was starting to spill over into others worlds and it wasn’t fair. Of course, the first question begins, “So what brings you back here, again?”. My answer or what I could muster is that I was afraid that who I was spilling on to will get sick of it and leave but then again, maybe I was pushing him away anyway.
So, all the things I’ve talked about that I want and need in my life right now are here in this blog and it’s a long list of sometimes normalcy and sometimes specific but all these things I was getting. From someone that has no expectation to give them to me. It started to get worse because the more and more I wanted certain things in my life the more and more he’d do these things but the real problem here? We’re not a couple. We’ve never dated and it was hard to see him as just a friend because he was checking all the boxes of things that I NEEDED but without the intimacy. It was starting to drive me crazy.
I’m tell the therapist about this, him and m close friends, and work. She’d asked why I didn’t talk or bring up my family. Then came out the truth there. We have never all been close and because of some certain reasons I don’t even speak to my parents much aside from the normal “Happy Birthday” here and there. I explained to my therapist that I’ve made up my own “family” through the years and it consists of a few really close friends. People do say that friends are Gods apology for family anyway.
We talked about my job and how stressful it is to work for two men that hate each other. Why I’ve stayed as long as I have and to be honest it’s because I can be myself there and because I feel like that company that I work for is mine too. I was there when it started and I helped it grow. Because of some very poor decisions on the owners parts it’s in trouble now but has strangely always been able to survive going through rough times. I could easily accept any one of the jobs that have been offered to me but I feel like I’d be giving up on this company that seems to have a life all on it’s own.
I explained to her that I’m no where I thought I’d be at this age. I want a family and I felt like I’d given up on all those dreams because I gave up on all those men. So she asked what it was about the one man. I’d realized that on one of my last post I’d said just how much I crave to hear the words, “I love you” or “I’m in love with you”. They are both entirely different to me. But when I was leaving Monday morning and he was half asleep on the couch he mumbled “I love you” and in my emotionally challenged world I realized that that actually helped, hurt and confused all in the same breath.
It helped because I need to hear it. It hurt because it just solidified that those words will never mean the same to him as they mean to me. And it confused me because hearing those words made me want to cry for all the times that I couldn’t say it back, just like then. I stood there with my back to him, grabbing my keys and tears gathering in my eyes inside this dark, what felt like the tiniest room ever and just walk out the door saying what felt like a millions words of silence.
He’d later sent me a text saying that he was so hurt and felt horrible because I wouldn’t talk to him. Which reading at work, in the bathroom, had tears streaming down my face. I could recall everything about that morning. I literally felt like someone who was awake during anesthesia. I wanted to scream, or just say SOMETHING but nothing would come out except in my head. I was saying all those things inside my head. I was screaming to be heard but all in silence.
It’s not fair and it’s not his fault. These are my flaws and these are my issues to fix. Exercise only works so much before something else has to happen to. There’s a lot of fixing things on my end that I need to do. There’s a lot of secrets that are inside my head that need to be dealt with and I’m working on that and some of that has to do with the look I saw on his face out of the corner of my eye when I rejected his touch and his help. That broke my heart.
It’s obvious that I need to take time to try to repair things in my life so that when I get to a happier place I can still say that I’ve gone through all of this for a purpose. The only upside to being sad is that it doesn’t make you hungry and you exercise like a crazy person so my pants are a lot looser right now.
I am never going to stop wishing that his “I love you” meant more than it did but I’m also so very thankful for it. I’m never going to be okay at this place that I’m in right now which gives me the strength to get up and move somewhere. I have a lot of grief and things that I need to deal with but at least I have a starting point now. At least I have a goal. Who knows who will be there at the end but all I can do until then is to make myself better so that there are good, decent and loving people there at the end.
So, I’m not great and maybe not even good but I’m getting there. I hope you are having a blessed week and that there is someone there to tell you they love you even if it’s too painful to hear. You might realize one day that it’s the one thing that has saved you from yourself.
I’ve told you all that I like to read and learn things right? Well, in my journey to be a better and more understanding person, I’ve read lots of books on mental health, psychology, PTSD and grief. Know why? Because A LOT of shit has happened to me in my life that wasn’t great and also to a lot of people that I know. I like to act as a therapist sometimes especially when I can see someone hurting and know that I might be able to do something about it. Today, I got to throw out some therapy which I was surprised was so well received.
The day started early (for me) while planning out my week of health and then it was off to my friend and insurance agents home for my monthly hair “trim”. There’s a lady that used to be a high end stylist till she realized that her clients were a-holes so she decided to leave that and just keep her family and friends as clients so once a month she travels to a bunch of homes and does her thing. Because I’ve always done something to my hair, color, straighten or heat the crap out of it, it’s been pretty over processed in the past but since I’ve been seeing her it’s so much healthier. But this time I wanted a change. It’s been slowly getting back to it’s natural color but that wasn’t enough. Today, I just decided to have her chop off half a foot. Sounds much more drastic that way than saying six inches doesn’t it?
She kept asking, “Are you sure? You really want to do this?”. Well, since she’s know me I’ve been the long, long haired really blonde girl but my response to her was, “Yep, it’s hair. It’ll grow back”. However, women get very emotionally attached to their hair. But with that said it was very cathartic to chop so much off. I felt like some of the bad shit that’s happened had been removed a bit. It’s healthier. I look younger and it’s kinda cute.
The reason I brought that up was because I was explaining the process of getting rid of things and then turned the conversation to my friend, the insurance broker. She’s much older than me but we’ve always gotten along because we don’t bullshit each other. I first met her probably a decade ago and she was happily married to an amazing man. It was just the two of them and a whole lotta dogs. After about a year or so something changed in her husband and he became so drastically depressed. She knew it was a warning sign and she tried everything to do what she could but he was so far gone that one day he decided to brutally take his own life, in the bedroom.
She saw everything. She witnessed the aftermath of the bedroom and him after the most selfish thing he’d done. I can’t imagine, not just losing someone whom you consider the love of your life, but to witness the carnage left behind. Sometimes humans shock me in the most honest, vulnerable yet strong ways ever with how she handled things.
For a long time she was pushing back all her emotions and she’d even admitted later that if she didn’t carry so much Jewish guilt over suicide she might have followed him. She battles daily with the thought that he’s no longer here. She stayed in the house, had some things redone but his presents is everywhere in that home. She holds so much emotional attachment and anger towards him that I’ve tried many times to explain to her that she needs to release that anger or it will kill her from the inside out.
So there we were today, in her kitchen with our hair stylist and half a foot of my hair is dropping all around me. I was surprisingly calm and I looked at her face and she was just in shock. I explained to her that part of the Buddhist philosophy (not that I’m 100% there) was about dropping your emotional attachments to things and people. Letting go… You’ve all heard the phrase, “Let go and let God” right? Well the Buddhist believe that while we carry these ‘investments’ in tangible items we’re shorting our lives for their true worth.
I didn’t get that corny about it but this was all for more than just releasing her husband. She’d started dating someone a while ago and for the first time in the years since her husband past, this guy is truly a great guy. I don’t mean he had money or a great job, I have no clue about that stuff, but what I do know is this man takes care of her and forces her to let his. She’s a tough strong woman and rarely has relied on someone else and especially NOT a man. So, I asked for one thing for my birthday since she wanted to get me something. I’d asked her to take something that was her husbands that meant a lot and put it away for 30 days. Out of sight.
At this point, I really thought she was going to tell me to eff off. But I could see what her near issue would be. Her new man wanted to move it and she was going to have a huge issue getting rid of her past. All I wanted her to do was to put it away for just a short time. It’s more about moving past those things and it’s really hard to do that while ever corner you turn there’s another reminder. There is literally 90% of that home that reminds her of him. But shockingly enough, she actually did it. I think her action was less about me than about her finally wanting to move on.
I’d also asked her to do one other thing. This, to me, was the most important. She was to write her husband a letter. This would be a letter releasing every single emotion she’s still holding on to, the anger, the sadness and the guilt. She’s been given till the next time we meet to write this letter. Then it’ll be her choice whether to burn it or keep it but in my experience the burning of the letter symbolizes more about letting things go than anything but it’s her choice.
It’s strange but such a simple act of me cutting my hair may have helped someone who’s been suffering for the longest time with things that are out of her control and things that she can’t change. I pray that this lightens her life just a bit so she can totally and completely let the new guy in.
Now, if I can only take my own advice at times. Maybe if I did I wouldn’t feel like there’s such a wall between me and the people I care about the most. I’m working on one thing at a time but today made me realize that much more how much I need a man in my life that can take over for me when I’m feeling weak. I think I said it best in this previous post Letter To My Future Husband Sometimes, even when we’re not ok, helping others is the best way to get there. I need to remember that every single day.
And that, my friends, was my excruciatingly long post for today. Hope you’re having a great weekend.
My day was rough. My night was much better but I’m still working out the rough part of the day. I think I’m going to focus my weekend internet usage on searching for a new place to live… This place is just getting worse. However, when it comes to the “new home search” I barely gain much momentum. I just always assumed I’d move right from this place to Austin unless something magical happened. Nothing magical has happened.
I’m going to go soak this day off in the tub. Hope you had a nice day.