Have you ever had one of those days? You wake up--and everything seems decent, and then one small thing happens and you're instantly annoyed for the rest of the day?
Most would think that a person who is 'annoyed' is one who has this ring of negativity surrounding them. I, on the other hand have come to find annoyance, hilarious. This doesn't mean that I find all 'annoying' situations hilarious, nor do I find all 'annoyed' individuals to be likeable. However, it was one conversation yesterday, that totally made me look at the emotion of annoyance in a different manner:
"Everything annoys me this morning lol. I saw a post that said 'I'm so happy!' Annoyed. Saw the prego post. Annoyed. Saw (insert name here). Annoyed.'
To me, this was hilarious. Mostly because I understand this person, and, in all essence---we are the same person. Despite that, it was her ability to make her annoyance so hilarious is what made me laugh.
I guess what I am getting at, here---is that annoyance, or the state of being 'bothered' by something is usually fueled by something else. A catalyst, if you will. While this state doesn't bother me, because I definitely have short fuse when it comes to incompetence and stupidity (which is something I need to work on)--I suppose my wisdom for the day is this:
When you're annoyed, take a look at what's really bothering you. Then find the hilarity in any situation that is bothering you--or rubbing you the wrong way. Like my friend, she was able to vent---but make it hilarious, and I am sure for a short moment, her annoyances went away. Then for the rest of the day, it became a joke.
I have to go to work now, BUT those are my 2 'cents' this morning.
Enjoy the day!
A.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Fear
What are you afraid of? It's an interesting question because--we are all afraid of something. Even the toughest of people are afraid of something; a person can deny even their deepest fear--but in the end it's something we cannot run from.
Fear can come in many forms, and the notion of being 'afraid' of something starts when we are young. For example, when I was little, I was afraid of ghosts coming out of the closet. In order to protect myself from any mysterious creatures that might pop out in the middle of the night. I would sleep facing the wall, cover my entire body with the blanket--and wedge my face in between the wall and the mattress, so I could breathe. It became such a habit, that when I returned to this room a month ago, even at 25 years old I still sleep that way.
Yes, it is interesting to think about how my fears differ from when I was a child. As a child, I was this meek, insecure kid, trying to figure out where she belonged in the world. I know this is a story that many have, as most of our childhood is spent trying to figure out 'who we are.' Nevertheless, I think that I always had these 'nerdy' tendencies as a little girl. I was reading Titanic books, and teaching myself how to write hieroglyphics up in my room. I wore dockers and brown shoes for a good majority of my middle school years. I had big glasses and braces. I was always raising my hand (so much so, that one of my teachers told me to stop), and I was always trying to figure out who my friends were. In high school, I surrounded myself with academics and activities to keep myself busy. Yet, I really couldn't escape the way I felt. In grade school, they called me 'pug' because I had this smooshed in chubby little face with large glasses. Overly awkward in every way. In high school, they called me 'mini me' because I was short, plump---and sometimes overly chatty. I would pretty much talk to anyone, because the more friends I had---the less alone I felt in other ways. My fears in my middle/early high school days? Let's see. Needles, spiders, bad grades, being made fun of, letting my parents down.
Enter senior year...17 years of age.
April 20, 2005, 8:30pm--
In one moment, everything can change. When I look back on that night, and everything that followed Frenchy's accident, I changed so quickly and so much, it is hard for me to remember how I was before. With this loss, came the pressure to grow up--and quickly. It was like receiving a phone call with a recorded message from God:
Hello Alexandria, welcome to the real world. Yes, it does exist.
The real world. Our parents always threaten us with it, right? Especially when we take things for granted, they always seem to find a way to insert a comment about the real world, harsh realities and adulthood. As children, or teenagers we immediately roll our eyes and sigh with exasperation. It's all an act on our part, of course. To be frank, the idea of the 'real world' scares the shit out of us kids---and we'd just as soon live in our blissful childhood lives than address some of the things that await us in the future.
When a major event like losing someone occurs, our fears change. I'm not saying it takes losing someone for our fears to change--but what I am saying is that for me, losing someone changed my fears forever. Suddenly, human life didn't seem invincible, and the harsh reality that we all die reared it's ugly head.
Fears change.
College-Adulthood:
College is the time of your life. New friends, new environment, new aspirations. In college, you're on top of the world. Your fears from high school to college also mutate to take a new form. Adulthood is that much closer, thus our fear of life starts to rear itself. Graduating from college is probably one of the proudest moments a person can experience, but it's bittersweet---especially in today's society. With college graduates facing high unemployment rates, our generation is faced with a very real truth: Things aren't always as easy as we think they're going to be. You see, we grew up and based our aspirations on the words of our parents and teachers:
If you do well in grade school and high school, you'll get into a good college. If you graduate from college, you will get a job!
If only it were that easy. I can't tell you many of my friends took jobs because they had no other choice. Honestly, I couldn't be happier in my career. I don't dread going to work every day, and I know that I can grow where I'm at. For me, fear of my job has dwindled into nothing--because thankfully I realized early that I can never go back. While my initial experience with teaching wasn't exactly positive, I don't know if I had the patience for it. I don't know where I would be right now, if I had a positive experience teaching. It wasn't the children...it was the district, the politics, the instability. I'm grateful, though---because I was able to conquer my fear. Fear of failure, fear of change and fear of the unknown.
Fear of the unknown.
In life, we don't know where we are going and where we are going to end up. While most of us would love to be able to plan our lives down to the minute, and then follow all of those plans through flawlessly. It's that sense of mystery that carries us through life. Just when we think we've got it figured out---something changes and sort of knocks us off the course. My father has always said, "We make plans, God laughs." There are many instances in the past where I really should have thought of, and understood this. I thought I have had it figured out for the past four years, at least. How naive of me, right?
What are you afraid of?
I'm afraid of me, I think. I'm afraid because I don't know who I am right now. I am sort of walking around, just doing the same things all of the time. It's pretty exhausting actually---for me and for others. With the fear of figuring out who I am, comes the fear of being alone. The fear of being inadequate, not for others, not for someone else, but inadequate to me. Right now, I am my biggest critic. Screw what everyone else thinks about me. I'm scared because I don't know how to love me, how to accept me---how to not be afraid of me. I've been afraid of spiders, needles, ghosts, fish in lakes, bridges and multiple other random things. However, for me to admit that I am afraid of me---not because I am some kind of monster---but because I don't ever think or care about 'me'....that is a big step.
So, right now I have to figure out how to conquer that fear. Let me get my shield and my sword out, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
Fear can come in many forms, and the notion of being 'afraid' of something starts when we are young. For example, when I was little, I was afraid of ghosts coming out of the closet. In order to protect myself from any mysterious creatures that might pop out in the middle of the night. I would sleep facing the wall, cover my entire body with the blanket--and wedge my face in between the wall and the mattress, so I could breathe. It became such a habit, that when I returned to this room a month ago, even at 25 years old I still sleep that way.
Yes, it is interesting to think about how my fears differ from when I was a child. As a child, I was this meek, insecure kid, trying to figure out where she belonged in the world. I know this is a story that many have, as most of our childhood is spent trying to figure out 'who we are.' Nevertheless, I think that I always had these 'nerdy' tendencies as a little girl. I was reading Titanic books, and teaching myself how to write hieroglyphics up in my room. I wore dockers and brown shoes for a good majority of my middle school years. I had big glasses and braces. I was always raising my hand (so much so, that one of my teachers told me to stop), and I was always trying to figure out who my friends were. In high school, I surrounded myself with academics and activities to keep myself busy. Yet, I really couldn't escape the way I felt. In grade school, they called me 'pug' because I had this smooshed in chubby little face with large glasses. Overly awkward in every way. In high school, they called me 'mini me' because I was short, plump---and sometimes overly chatty. I would pretty much talk to anyone, because the more friends I had---the less alone I felt in other ways. My fears in my middle/early high school days? Let's see. Needles, spiders, bad grades, being made fun of, letting my parents down.
Enter senior year...17 years of age.
April 20, 2005, 8:30pm--
In one moment, everything can change. When I look back on that night, and everything that followed Frenchy's accident, I changed so quickly and so much, it is hard for me to remember how I was before. With this loss, came the pressure to grow up--and quickly. It was like receiving a phone call with a recorded message from God:
Hello Alexandria, welcome to the real world. Yes, it does exist.
The real world. Our parents always threaten us with it, right? Especially when we take things for granted, they always seem to find a way to insert a comment about the real world, harsh realities and adulthood. As children, or teenagers we immediately roll our eyes and sigh with exasperation. It's all an act on our part, of course. To be frank, the idea of the 'real world' scares the shit out of us kids---and we'd just as soon live in our blissful childhood lives than address some of the things that await us in the future.
When a major event like losing someone occurs, our fears change. I'm not saying it takes losing someone for our fears to change--but what I am saying is that for me, losing someone changed my fears forever. Suddenly, human life didn't seem invincible, and the harsh reality that we all die reared it's ugly head.
Fears change.
College-Adulthood:
College is the time of your life. New friends, new environment, new aspirations. In college, you're on top of the world. Your fears from high school to college also mutate to take a new form. Adulthood is that much closer, thus our fear of life starts to rear itself. Graduating from college is probably one of the proudest moments a person can experience, but it's bittersweet---especially in today's society. With college graduates facing high unemployment rates, our generation is faced with a very real truth: Things aren't always as easy as we think they're going to be. You see, we grew up and based our aspirations on the words of our parents and teachers:
If you do well in grade school and high school, you'll get into a good college. If you graduate from college, you will get a job!
If only it were that easy. I can't tell you many of my friends took jobs because they had no other choice. Honestly, I couldn't be happier in my career. I don't dread going to work every day, and I know that I can grow where I'm at. For me, fear of my job has dwindled into nothing--because thankfully I realized early that I can never go back. While my initial experience with teaching wasn't exactly positive, I don't know if I had the patience for it. I don't know where I would be right now, if I had a positive experience teaching. It wasn't the children...it was the district, the politics, the instability. I'm grateful, though---because I was able to conquer my fear. Fear of failure, fear of change and fear of the unknown.
Fear of the unknown.
In life, we don't know where we are going and where we are going to end up. While most of us would love to be able to plan our lives down to the minute, and then follow all of those plans through flawlessly. It's that sense of mystery that carries us through life. Just when we think we've got it figured out---something changes and sort of knocks us off the course. My father has always said, "We make plans, God laughs." There are many instances in the past where I really should have thought of, and understood this. I thought I have had it figured out for the past four years, at least. How naive of me, right?
What are you afraid of?
I'm afraid of me, I think. I'm afraid because I don't know who I am right now. I am sort of walking around, just doing the same things all of the time. It's pretty exhausting actually---for me and for others. With the fear of figuring out who I am, comes the fear of being alone. The fear of being inadequate, not for others, not for someone else, but inadequate to me. Right now, I am my biggest critic. Screw what everyone else thinks about me. I'm scared because I don't know how to love me, how to accept me---how to not be afraid of me. I've been afraid of spiders, needles, ghosts, fish in lakes, bridges and multiple other random things. However, for me to admit that I am afraid of me---not because I am some kind of monster---but because I don't ever think or care about 'me'....that is a big step.
So, right now I have to figure out how to conquer that fear. Let me get my shield and my sword out, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Letting Go.
I am sitting here in my childhood room, looking around at walls that have changed since I last stayed here for an extended period of time. In fact, much has changed since I actually lived at my mother and father's house. Right now, there is a dog bed on the floor, bookshelves with multiple sewing books organized and categorized ever so meticulously....and little trinkets of mine sprawled about the room. The trinkets, are reminders of the life that I so suddenly was uprooted from.
In the past month, I have floated through many emotions and state(s) of mind. Today, as I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling I thought about all of the conversations I've been having with people lately. The only conclusion that I can come to after thinking about said conversations--is that I need to let myself let go. So, what better way to do it, than here.
Break---okay, here we go.
Before I decided to write the blog you're reading, I looked through some of the pictures on my computer. I am not sure what I am going to do with them all, hence my resistance to let go. A normal person would just delete them. I'm stuck. Part of me wants to be so angry with him. The other part remembers a great love that I had for such a long time, with unprecedented happiness. The folder I opened, was that of pictures from our 3 year anniversary. An amazing day, where he took me to the shed aquarium--and we stayed in a lovely hotel, went to a beautiful dinner---and he gave me my promise ring. I know that I cannot dwell on these things; however these are the things that make me ask one question: How is it so easy for one person to fall out of love with another?
Let's face it....that is what happened to me. I am not sure what went wrong, or where it went wrong. It takes two to tango, and I am sure there was plenty we could have done differently. We fell in love when we were 19. At that time, I felt like I was on top of the world--because I was his world. Up until about a year and a half ago, I was his world. Then it changed, and other things became the focus of his life. I don't hate him for that because people grow up and they change. I am not saying he changed for the worse---I know that I changed and not for the better. I am not sure of the exact time when he fell out of love with me. All that resonates in my head is the last telephone conversation I had with him:
Me: Do you love me?
Him: Yes.
Me: Are you in love with me?
Him: I don't know.
That answer should be the very thing moving me forward. The insecure girl in me wonders what I could have done to make him not fall out of love with me. Could I have been mentally stronger? Could I have not let my depression take hold of me? Could I have made a better attempt to lose weight? Could I have done anything at all, to not have lost the flame that was once burning so bright---it was blinding? Despite all of these things I listed (which I feel were weaknesses that lead to the demise of our relationship) the fact of of the matter is, if someone loves you they will accept you for who you are---hands down---no questions asked. In the end, I need to know and realize that people grow up and sometimes they grow apart from each other. I need to stop placing all of the blame on me. I will always love him. I can't let go of that. I do need to let go of him, though--because holding on isn't doing anything at all. There is no reason to hold on.
I wish him nothing but success and happiness in life. I hope that someday, he will be able to find the person that makes him completely happy. Someone that he can give the love he gave to me for quite some time. They will be very lucky.
Now, I need to let go. So as I really make an effort to close this chapter, I might need some help; because finding out who you are and trying not to be afraid of it--is a scary thing.
Sometimes, the things we hold on to, aren't nearly as important as the things we let go of.
A.
In the past month, I have floated through many emotions and state(s) of mind. Today, as I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling I thought about all of the conversations I've been having with people lately. The only conclusion that I can come to after thinking about said conversations--is that I need to let myself let go. So, what better way to do it, than here.
Break---okay, here we go.
Before I decided to write the blog you're reading, I looked through some of the pictures on my computer. I am not sure what I am going to do with them all, hence my resistance to let go. A normal person would just delete them. I'm stuck. Part of me wants to be so angry with him. The other part remembers a great love that I had for such a long time, with unprecedented happiness. The folder I opened, was that of pictures from our 3 year anniversary. An amazing day, where he took me to the shed aquarium--and we stayed in a lovely hotel, went to a beautiful dinner---and he gave me my promise ring. I know that I cannot dwell on these things; however these are the things that make me ask one question: How is it so easy for one person to fall out of love with another?
Let's face it....that is what happened to me. I am not sure what went wrong, or where it went wrong. It takes two to tango, and I am sure there was plenty we could have done differently. We fell in love when we were 19. At that time, I felt like I was on top of the world--because I was his world. Up until about a year and a half ago, I was his world. Then it changed, and other things became the focus of his life. I don't hate him for that because people grow up and they change. I am not saying he changed for the worse---I know that I changed and not for the better. I am not sure of the exact time when he fell out of love with me. All that resonates in my head is the last telephone conversation I had with him:
Me: Do you love me?
Him: Yes.
Me: Are you in love with me?
Him: I don't know.
That answer should be the very thing moving me forward. The insecure girl in me wonders what I could have done to make him not fall out of love with me. Could I have been mentally stronger? Could I have not let my depression take hold of me? Could I have made a better attempt to lose weight? Could I have done anything at all, to not have lost the flame that was once burning so bright---it was blinding? Despite all of these things I listed (which I feel were weaknesses that lead to the demise of our relationship) the fact of of the matter is, if someone loves you they will accept you for who you are---hands down---no questions asked. In the end, I need to know and realize that people grow up and sometimes they grow apart from each other. I need to stop placing all of the blame on me. I will always love him. I can't let go of that. I do need to let go of him, though--because holding on isn't doing anything at all. There is no reason to hold on.
I wish him nothing but success and happiness in life. I hope that someday, he will be able to find the person that makes him completely happy. Someone that he can give the love he gave to me for quite some time. They will be very lucky.
Now, I need to let go. So as I really make an effort to close this chapter, I might need some help; because finding out who you are and trying not to be afraid of it--is a scary thing.
Sometimes, the things we hold on to, aren't nearly as important as the things we let go of.
A.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Perfectly Imperfect
Perfection is an obsession. It's interesting to think about the concept of perfection, and what it means to different people. Some think that perfection is winning a game, making the honor roll or losing 10lbs. Whatever form it takes, the ironic thing about perfection is that there is an inherent truth to it: perfection doesn't exist. No one is perfect. Nothing is ever completely perfect. The minute we think things are 'perfect', and we let our guard down--that's when shit hits the fan because, in the end, we should know that nothing is ever perfect.
Now, while I might seem cynical, because I have pointed out said inherent truth about perfection--you must know that I don't think there is anything wrong with striving for it. In all honesty, the concept of perfection is something that I have struggled with my entire life. From a young age, we grow up idealizing what the 'perfect' life is supposed to be. To me, it was getting good grades, graduating from college, getting a good job and making it on my own. Somehow, throughout all of those steps---I never seemed good enough for me. Yes, I was the person who cried if they got a 'B' on her transcript in any class. Yes, I'll say it again, I was that person. I suppose that I have always had a vision of what was acceptable and unacceptable. To me, not being able to perform above the average was a problem. In the back of my mind, there was always the potential do better, to be better. I don't necessarily believe that it's wrong to feel this way---but it can get to a point where it becomes unhealthy. For me, feeling like perfection is a far stretch comes from a lack of confidence. I will be the first to admit that I am probably the lease confident person when it comes to anything regarding me. This is a problem that I have had for a long time. I'll be the first to fully admit that. It all stems from one thing--that desire to be perfect. Those playing Devil's Advocate would pose the question, "Yeah, but what is considered 'perfect'?" I've got so many visions of what I think perfect is supposed to be. At the end of the day, it all comes down to the fact that I know I don't love myself enough to accept or deserve the love of another. I think that is where so much went wrong in the relationship I was in for 6 years. Being with someone who lacks confidence in themselves is exhausting. In that sense, I feel like I pushed him away with my poor self image. Doing nothing to fix it. Just continuing on a path of what was 'comfortable.'
At this point, a month later (how ironic, it's been a month--and today is Thanksgiving) I'll pretty much do anything to make myself feel human again. I got a haircut and highlights, a new pair of boots and a pair of jeggings. I felt like I was on top of the world---with a little spring in my step and everything. As the day went on, that sense of confidence started to dwindle. My haircut high was fading. I am not sure why it is so hard for me to appreciate myself. I don't know where it all stems from. I know that what I am feeling right now, stems from what I have been through. I always had a lack of confidence---but this has magnified it. It's hard to feel wanted when someone just walks away from you.
The conclusion I have come to, is that I don't need him---to be me. I need to become the person that I want. If that means going for a run, or cutting my hair, painting, laughing, doing anything at all....then that is what I need to do. I know what I miss, but that is a subject for the next blog. Right now, I need to go for a run to clear my head.....more later....
Now, while I might seem cynical, because I have pointed out said inherent truth about perfection--you must know that I don't think there is anything wrong with striving for it. In all honesty, the concept of perfection is something that I have struggled with my entire life. From a young age, we grow up idealizing what the 'perfect' life is supposed to be. To me, it was getting good grades, graduating from college, getting a good job and making it on my own. Somehow, throughout all of those steps---I never seemed good enough for me. Yes, I was the person who cried if they got a 'B' on her transcript in any class. Yes, I'll say it again, I was that person. I suppose that I have always had a vision of what was acceptable and unacceptable. To me, not being able to perform above the average was a problem. In the back of my mind, there was always the potential do better, to be better. I don't necessarily believe that it's wrong to feel this way---but it can get to a point where it becomes unhealthy. For me, feeling like perfection is a far stretch comes from a lack of confidence. I will be the first to admit that I am probably the lease confident person when it comes to anything regarding me. This is a problem that I have had for a long time. I'll be the first to fully admit that. It all stems from one thing--that desire to be perfect. Those playing Devil's Advocate would pose the question, "Yeah, but what is considered 'perfect'?" I've got so many visions of what I think perfect is supposed to be. At the end of the day, it all comes down to the fact that I know I don't love myself enough to accept or deserve the love of another. I think that is where so much went wrong in the relationship I was in for 6 years. Being with someone who lacks confidence in themselves is exhausting. In that sense, I feel like I pushed him away with my poor self image. Doing nothing to fix it. Just continuing on a path of what was 'comfortable.'
At this point, a month later (how ironic, it's been a month--and today is Thanksgiving) I'll pretty much do anything to make myself feel human again. I got a haircut and highlights, a new pair of boots and a pair of jeggings. I felt like I was on top of the world---with a little spring in my step and everything. As the day went on, that sense of confidence started to dwindle. My haircut high was fading. I am not sure why it is so hard for me to appreciate myself. I don't know where it all stems from. I know that what I am feeling right now, stems from what I have been through. I always had a lack of confidence---but this has magnified it. It's hard to feel wanted when someone just walks away from you.
The conclusion I have come to, is that I don't need him---to be me. I need to become the person that I want. If that means going for a run, or cutting my hair, painting, laughing, doing anything at all....then that is what I need to do. I know what I miss, but that is a subject for the next blog. Right now, I need to go for a run to clear my head.....more later....
Friday, November 16, 2012
The Art of Loss
Saying goodbye is never easy. Throughout a lifetime, there are many ways we have to say goodbye. Some of us learn it at a young age, and others never encounter that feeling until they grow older.
When I was 18 years old, my best friend died in a car accident. When this happened, I asked a lot of questions, shut myself down on the inside, and put on a strong face for those who needed me the most. I'm not sure I ever fully dealt with losing her, but perhaps I did it in my own way by being strong for others. As time went on, and as I grew-my feelings of sadness started to dwindle. That doesn't mean I forgot about her, or loved her any less. I just sort of accepted that she was gone, and took comfort in the fact that she was watching over me. A guardian angel at my back, always.
Losing someone is never easy. A friend, a pet, a lover. There are many ways we can lose someone. They can be taken suddenly, or they can live a long and happy life--going quietly into the night. You can sit and watch someone suffer, praying each day that they find peace. Someone we love might choose to end their own pain...a situation I don't want to dwell on, nor do I really want to mention it fully. Or a person could walk away from you, leaving you in the dust without thinking twice.
With loss comes many emotions. Hence, the 5 Stages of Grief that I discuss so often. But (and yes, I started a sentence with 'But') when we take the emotion or state of grief out of the neat packaging that psychologists have placed it in, it's a very dirty, messy thing. It's a form of angst, a form of cancer that invades your soul when you have lost something. In all honesty, no part of grief makes sense--and because of this, we as human beings full of emotion, spend countless hours trying to make sense of something that just cannot be figured out fully. Thus, comes the main question we all ask, when feeling the effects of loss:
"Why?"
Why? It's a question we hear a million times throughout the course of our lives. In fact, it's the first question we learn how to ask as a child. Why this? Why that? Why can't I stay up later? Why can't I have candy for dinner? Why can't I go out with my friends? Why? I suppose there is some good that can come of asking that question. Perhaps, if no one had asked "Why", there wouldn't be a cure for Polio. The wheel wouldn't have been invented. My father's heart wouldn't be beating right now. A lot of good can come from asking "Why." However, sometimes we tend to torture ourselves by asking the same questions over and over and over again. When it comes to loss, there is a simple answer to this question:
There is no answer.
There is no answer. When we come to accept that there is often no answer--is when we can finally start to rebuild ourselves without that person.
At the end of the day, what we have to work on, is accepting life without the person or being we have loved so much. I write this today, not because of my own situation, but because of something someone I love very much had to deal with today. It's been a rough go around for her, this year. Somehow, some way---she has been able to see the positive in every little thing that has happened.
Everything happens for a reason....
So, on a sunny day, when you're sitting by the water somewhere, you'll look out on the shoreline, and you'll see a man and woman with a black dog...running along the water's edge. It won't make you sad, no. It will warm your heart; because you know, your black dog--will be running along the water's edge---next to a fisherman. Fishing Pole in hand....and they will be walking off into a bright sunset---in the most beautiful place there is.
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)......
A.
When I was 18 years old, my best friend died in a car accident. When this happened, I asked a lot of questions, shut myself down on the inside, and put on a strong face for those who needed me the most. I'm not sure I ever fully dealt with losing her, but perhaps I did it in my own way by being strong for others. As time went on, and as I grew-my feelings of sadness started to dwindle. That doesn't mean I forgot about her, or loved her any less. I just sort of accepted that she was gone, and took comfort in the fact that she was watching over me. A guardian angel at my back, always.
Losing someone is never easy. A friend, a pet, a lover. There are many ways we can lose someone. They can be taken suddenly, or they can live a long and happy life--going quietly into the night. You can sit and watch someone suffer, praying each day that they find peace. Someone we love might choose to end their own pain...a situation I don't want to dwell on, nor do I really want to mention it fully. Or a person could walk away from you, leaving you in the dust without thinking twice.
With loss comes many emotions. Hence, the 5 Stages of Grief that I discuss so often. But (and yes, I started a sentence with 'But') when we take the emotion or state of grief out of the neat packaging that psychologists have placed it in, it's a very dirty, messy thing. It's a form of angst, a form of cancer that invades your soul when you have lost something. In all honesty, no part of grief makes sense--and because of this, we as human beings full of emotion, spend countless hours trying to make sense of something that just cannot be figured out fully. Thus, comes the main question we all ask, when feeling the effects of loss:
"Why?"
Why? It's a question we hear a million times throughout the course of our lives. In fact, it's the first question we learn how to ask as a child. Why this? Why that? Why can't I stay up later? Why can't I have candy for dinner? Why can't I go out with my friends? Why? I suppose there is some good that can come of asking that question. Perhaps, if no one had asked "Why", there wouldn't be a cure for Polio. The wheel wouldn't have been invented. My father's heart wouldn't be beating right now. A lot of good can come from asking "Why." However, sometimes we tend to torture ourselves by asking the same questions over and over and over again. When it comes to loss, there is a simple answer to this question:
There is no answer.
There is no answer. When we come to accept that there is often no answer--is when we can finally start to rebuild ourselves without that person.
At the end of the day, what we have to work on, is accepting life without the person or being we have loved so much. I write this today, not because of my own situation, but because of something someone I love very much had to deal with today. It's been a rough go around for her, this year. Somehow, some way---she has been able to see the positive in every little thing that has happened.
Everything happens for a reason....
So, on a sunny day, when you're sitting by the water somewhere, you'll look out on the shoreline, and you'll see a man and woman with a black dog...running along the water's edge. It won't make you sad, no. It will warm your heart; because you know, your black dog--will be running along the water's edge---next to a fisherman. Fishing Pole in hand....and they will be walking off into a bright sunset---in the most beautiful place there is.
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)......
A.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
This Is It.
Anger. It's a fickle thing. Some people are quick to be angry. Others, stew and brew until they can no longer take it.
I am the latter. Jimena said it was going to take anger to help me to move on, and now I think that I am there. Ladies and gents, he got a Facebook. The one thing, he always said was stupid and would never do. He even used pictures from our vacations to start albums. The profile picture he has, is one that took. Let's face it. He is a single, 25 year old man. The way my friend Alex, explained it to me is this: It's like a man going through a mid-life crisis--and buying a convertible. I completely understand that Facebook is not the end of the world, and nor is him getting one the end all be all of the universe. Yet, if you understood him and the way that he was---you would understand the way that I feel right now. If I had been a terrible person in our relationship, if I were a cheater, a liar, a psycho, a controlling maniac--I might have been able to rationalize all of this. I am not going to dwell on the details---but here we go.
As time goes on, I continue to get slapped in the face harder and harder. I am not sure how much harder I could get hit. If you could see me now. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a room full of broken furniture---begging him to hit me harder. No one can recognize me, and no one can hear me screaming.
Hit me harder. Hit me so hard you feel ashamed. I can take it. You've been doing it for the past three weeks, what's another few blows to my psyche? I'll take the hits, look you right in the eye, and my stare will not falter.
Today, he took a step futher away from me. A step closer to being someone I don't know anymore. If that is what you want, so be it. I can hit hard, too. Especially where it hurts.
So starts a journey to find myself.
Tomorrow I am going to start training for a 10k. I am going to put my best foot forward, and focus on work, and making myself better both personally and professionally. I am going to find me, in the aftermath of this storm. I am going to paint, and create, and laugh and write and be happy. I was once happy, and you were too. I don't know what happened to you, to me, to us. I don't know a lot of things---but I do know I can be happy again. You don't define me. As much as I have been defined by this relationship, and as much as my heart hurts because of all this---I know I am going to be fine.
I will no longer be someone you know anymore---and I hope it makes you die inside. I hope it does to you, what you have done to me.
So here's to the first day of trying to honestly and fully work through this pain, because to dwell on it will only let him hurt me more.
At the end of the day, I know that I can find happiness.
I am the latter. Jimena said it was going to take anger to help me to move on, and now I think that I am there. Ladies and gents, he got a Facebook. The one thing, he always said was stupid and would never do. He even used pictures from our vacations to start albums. The profile picture he has, is one that took. Let's face it. He is a single, 25 year old man. The way my friend Alex, explained it to me is this: It's like a man going through a mid-life crisis--and buying a convertible. I completely understand that Facebook is not the end of the world, and nor is him getting one the end all be all of the universe. Yet, if you understood him and the way that he was---you would understand the way that I feel right now. If I had been a terrible person in our relationship, if I were a cheater, a liar, a psycho, a controlling maniac--I might have been able to rationalize all of this. I am not going to dwell on the details---but here we go.
As time goes on, I continue to get slapped in the face harder and harder. I am not sure how much harder I could get hit. If you could see me now. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a room full of broken furniture---begging him to hit me harder. No one can recognize me, and no one can hear me screaming.
Hit me harder. Hit me so hard you feel ashamed. I can take it. You've been doing it for the past three weeks, what's another few blows to my psyche? I'll take the hits, look you right in the eye, and my stare will not falter.
Today, he took a step futher away from me. A step closer to being someone I don't know anymore. If that is what you want, so be it. I can hit hard, too. Especially where it hurts.
So starts a journey to find myself.
Tomorrow I am going to start training for a 10k. I am going to put my best foot forward, and focus on work, and making myself better both personally and professionally. I am going to find me, in the aftermath of this storm. I am going to paint, and create, and laugh and write and be happy. I was once happy, and you were too. I don't know what happened to you, to me, to us. I don't know a lot of things---but I do know I can be happy again. You don't define me. As much as I have been defined by this relationship, and as much as my heart hurts because of all this---I know I am going to be fine.
I will no longer be someone you know anymore---and I hope it makes you die inside. I hope it does to you, what you have done to me.
So here's to the first day of trying to honestly and fully work through this pain, because to dwell on it will only let him hurt me more.
At the end of the day, I know that I can find happiness.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Change of Pace
Nope. No song title today. I wasn't feeling it. However, what I was feeling---was something I did find on Pinterest that I wanted to share with you all. It's pretty hilarious, and true.
Truths for Mature Humans
- I think that part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
- Nothing sucks more than the moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
- I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
- There is a great need for a sarcasm font.
- How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
- Was learning cursive really necessary?
- Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
- I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
- Bad decisions make good stories.
- You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.
- Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes out after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.
- I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.
- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this--ever.
- I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? $***!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
- I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
- I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
- I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night, more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.
- I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.
- Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger, and suddenly realize I had no ideas what the heck was going on when I first saw it.
- I would rather try to carry 10 over-loaded grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
- The only time I look forward to a red light is when I am trying to finish a text.
- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand what the other person said?
- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!
- Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
- Is it just me or do high school kids get dumber & dumber every year?
- There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning you chair back a little too far.
- As a driver, I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate bicyclists.
- Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
- Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning a Tail on the Donkey--but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!
These are all true, and embody me in every way.
Goodnight for now.
A.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Well I've been afraid of changing....cause I've built my life around you
Acceptance.
The process of coming to accept what has happened to me has been and still is like ripping the bandage off of a fresh wound. This is the only way I can explain it....as I recently experienced this with my 'nephew.' Last weekend when he was at his dad's house he fell and skinned his elbow pretty badly. He needed to take the bandage off....and as I peeked under it, I could see that his elbow was still bleeding. In that moment, he was terrified of the prospect of pain to follow ripping the bandage off of his cut. It took lots of coaxing, heavy breathing and reassurance that everything would be okay...but we finally got the bandage off with warm water and minimal tears. If anything, it was more a mental strife than a physical one--despite the fact that both, at the moment, seemed equally distressing.
As I continue to try and live in the stage of acceptance, I find myself taking two steps forward, and ten steps backwards. However, I'm finding more and more that I'm tiring of myself and so are others. Thus making me feel more foolish for feeling sad.
Stay tuned.
The process of coming to accept what has happened to me has been and still is like ripping the bandage off of a fresh wound. This is the only way I can explain it....as I recently experienced this with my 'nephew.' Last weekend when he was at his dad's house he fell and skinned his elbow pretty badly. He needed to take the bandage off....and as I peeked under it, I could see that his elbow was still bleeding. In that moment, he was terrified of the prospect of pain to follow ripping the bandage off of his cut. It took lots of coaxing, heavy breathing and reassurance that everything would be okay...but we finally got the bandage off with warm water and minimal tears. If anything, it was more a mental strife than a physical one--despite the fact that both, at the moment, seemed equally distressing.
As I continue to try and live in the stage of acceptance, I find myself taking two steps forward, and ten steps backwards. However, I'm finding more and more that I'm tiring of myself and so are others. Thus making me feel more foolish for feeling sad.
Stay tuned.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Oh, I'm never gonna be the same again, now I've seen the way it's got to end...
How many of you have seen the movie, Men in Black? In case you haven't, it's one of those classic movies that our generation grew up with. The movie stars Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones as protectors of our universe--and fighters of intergalactic terrorism. Nevertheless, the film begins with us meeting Agent "K" (Jones), who in essence has difficulty finding a partner that fits his standards. James, (Smith) is an overzealous New York City Police Officer, who is frustrated with the apathy of his coworkers and encounters a villain who seems to be more than meets the eye; literally. Eventually, Agent "K" recruits James, and puts him through rigorous tests in order to confirm his inclination that "The Kid" is, in fact, right for the job.
Thus, James becomes Agent "J"--and sheds his identity to join MiB. Everything he once, was--he is no more. SSN, erased. Birth certificate, 'misplaced'. Fingerprints, destroyed. All indication that James ever existed---has evaporated into time and space; and just like that James Edwards is gone.
As "J" gets acclimated to his surroundings and the inner-workings of MiB, he learns that we are not alone--and that those who occupy this universe with us aren't always little brown alien men who become your best friend, repair cuts on your fingers--and beg to 'phone home'. No, as with everything in this life--there are the good, and there are the bad.
Enter Edgar the Farmer, His Wife--and "The Bug" (also seen as a giant angry cockroach)...
As Agents "J" and "K" attempt to track down "The Bug" that supposedly crash-landed on a rural farm. When they encounter the wife of the farmer who has gone missing, she describes her husband's behavior to the Agents:
"I know Edgar, and that wasn't Edgar....it was like something was wearing an Edgar suit."
The movie continues with "K" taking "J" along for the ride--in the effort to find and stop "The Bug" that will inevitably destroy Earth if he gets his hands on The Galaxy, which is ultimately what he is after. A few fight scenes, 50 hilarious one-liners, and a closing scene that includes vast amounts of juicy roach guts--our audience is lead to draw many conclusions from this comedy.
Thus, James becomes Agent "J"--and sheds his identity to join MiB. Everything he once, was--he is no more. SSN, erased. Birth certificate, 'misplaced'. Fingerprints, destroyed. All indication that James ever existed---has evaporated into time and space; and just like that James Edwards is gone.
As "J" gets acclimated to his surroundings and the inner-workings of MiB, he learns that we are not alone--and that those who occupy this universe with us aren't always little brown alien men who become your best friend, repair cuts on your fingers--and beg to 'phone home'. No, as with everything in this life--there are the good, and there are the bad.
Enter Edgar the Farmer, His Wife--and "The Bug" (also seen as a giant angry cockroach)...
As Agents "J" and "K" attempt to track down "The Bug" that supposedly crash-landed on a rural farm. When they encounter the wife of the farmer who has gone missing, she describes her husband's behavior to the Agents:
"I know Edgar, and that wasn't Edgar....it was like something was wearing an Edgar suit."
The movie continues with "K" taking "J" along for the ride--in the effort to find and stop "The Bug" that will inevitably destroy Earth if he gets his hands on The Galaxy, which is ultimately what he is after. A few fight scenes, 50 hilarious one-liners, and a closing scene that includes vast amounts of juicy roach guts--our audience is lead to draw many conclusions from this comedy.
- We always have the potential to be something else---even if it means our identity is sacrificed in the process.
- Not everything is as it seems.
- There is good in this world, and there is evil.
- We are not alone. Even if this is a comedic attempt at science fiction with a rap song in the end-credits. Think about the concept. We are not alone in the sense that, perhaps there might be something else out there in this universe. However, we are not alone because no matter who you are, there will always be someone there to help you get the disgusting roach guts off of your suit.
- Sometimes, the memories we have are not those we desire. Some of us would rather be "Flashy-Thinged" so that we don't have to deal with our past.
- There is always more than meets the eye, in every situation.
- We don't always end up where we think we will.
What I find interesting about my analysis of this movie, (which is not as deep of a plot as I have made it out to be, let's get real here)---is that there are many truths within the conclusions that our audience can draw. One of the biggest being "We don't always end up where we think we will." You see, I have been on a plan for so long---that perhaps I've lost the ability to see the value in spontaneity. Just as we have been told in our history classes: The unknown scares us. Yes, not knowing who I am, who I am going to be, where I am going, and if I am ever going to find love again scares the shit out of me. Planning makes things seem so much better, doesn't it? Planning makes things simple, makes the chances that something will go wrong, less likely. To play devil's advocate--planning also makes things worse; because when something doesn't go 'according to plan' the after-effects are way more devastating.
Right now, I'm in an "Alex Suit." I am me on the outside, but on the inside---I'm a big old hot mess. Plain and simple. I'm good, and I'm bad. I'm sane, and a little loopy. I'm jaded. Jaded, jaded, jaded---and cynical as hell. I'm uncertain. I'm just messed up---and I will admit it. This messed me up big time. I guess I am just going to have to try and let go--but I don't think it's as easy for me to walk away from the past six years as it was for him. Funny how things work out, isn't it? So I am going to continue to wade through the quicksand---and even though I keep getting stuck---there's one truth I know I can count on...
I am not alone, because no matter who I am---there will always be someone there to help me get the disgusting roach guts off of my suit.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
I gave my best, it wasn't enough.
"Then stop feeling bad for yourself and start getting mad at him for making you feel this way. He did this to you. Anger is the only way. Then you will be rational and accepting. But the anger will help you through."
Anger. It's the 2nd stage of grief. Everyone tells me that I need to feel angry in order to move on. Every now and then I feel twinges of anger, but it's like my heart is holding onto the sadness with a pair of vice grips. What happens when I get mad? What good is getting mad going to do for me? I get it. The more and more I continue to feel sad about the situation, the less likely I am to move on and work on me. I'm not entirely sure I am ready to let go. Letting go means it's really over. As much as I don't want it to be over, I have to accept that it's over.
We're going nowhere fast we've reached the climax. We're together now we're undone. Won't commit so we choose to run away. Do we separate? Won't give in so we both gave up. Can't take it back. It's too late. We've reached the climax, climax.
I feel like that is what happened. We grew up, and he got his dream job. Had the world at his feet, a girl, new house, new car, puppy, lots of friends and the image that girls lust after. What happens when you have the world at your feet? You take everything for granted. You're on top of the world. You go out with your friends and live the life, while keeping the rest of it tucked away in your back pocket. Eventually, maybe the grass seems greener on the other side. There is so much out there that is unknown...and so...without consequences---he let me go because at the end of the day, being able to live life without the thought of consequence looming in the background is much easier than doing something that will hurt that other person. I could sit here and try to rationalize his thought and action until I am blue in the face. At the end of the day, I'm alone---and I have to start over completely.
Yesterday I went to look at townhomes, because I thought perhaps it would make me feel better. It made me feel worse. I don't know why it made me feel worse. I think that it hurt because I had all of that. The house---the boy---and now it is gone. The thing is, I'm getting tired of myself and my own thoughts. I can imagine that everyone else is getting tired of my thoughts and emotions as well. Thus, I see the only solution to all of this is, in fact anger. With anger though come the questions, but most of them start with...
How dare you....
How can you....
So I move on with anger. No matter how badly I want to be angry, my heart does not fully want to let my mind be angry.
Anger. It's the 2nd stage of grief. Everyone tells me that I need to feel angry in order to move on. Every now and then I feel twinges of anger, but it's like my heart is holding onto the sadness with a pair of vice grips. What happens when I get mad? What good is getting mad going to do for me? I get it. The more and more I continue to feel sad about the situation, the less likely I am to move on and work on me. I'm not entirely sure I am ready to let go. Letting go means it's really over. As much as I don't want it to be over, I have to accept that it's over.
We're going nowhere fast we've reached the climax. We're together now we're undone. Won't commit so we choose to run away. Do we separate? Won't give in so we both gave up. Can't take it back. It's too late. We've reached the climax, climax.
I feel like that is what happened. We grew up, and he got his dream job. Had the world at his feet, a girl, new house, new car, puppy, lots of friends and the image that girls lust after. What happens when you have the world at your feet? You take everything for granted. You're on top of the world. You go out with your friends and live the life, while keeping the rest of it tucked away in your back pocket. Eventually, maybe the grass seems greener on the other side. There is so much out there that is unknown...and so...without consequences---he let me go because at the end of the day, being able to live life without the thought of consequence looming in the background is much easier than doing something that will hurt that other person. I could sit here and try to rationalize his thought and action until I am blue in the face. At the end of the day, I'm alone---and I have to start over completely.
Yesterday I went to look at townhomes, because I thought perhaps it would make me feel better. It made me feel worse. I don't know why it made me feel worse. I think that it hurt because I had all of that. The house---the boy---and now it is gone. The thing is, I'm getting tired of myself and my own thoughts. I can imagine that everyone else is getting tired of my thoughts and emotions as well. Thus, I see the only solution to all of this is, in fact anger. With anger though come the questions, but most of them start with...
How dare you....
How can you....
So I move on with anger. No matter how badly I want to be angry, my heart does not fully want to let my mind be angry.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
In the end-
In 3 days it will have been a week since I spoke with him. Well, really exchanged text messages with him. Lately, I have been finding it easy to act like my old 'self' again. Put a smile on my face, and tuck away the pain until I can deal with it. As of late, I've been trying to shut my brain off. No matter how hard I try, it seems as though that burning sensation, that twinge of pain in my chest continues to make itself present. Sometimes I wish that I could hand someone a fire extinguisher, so they could just numb that pain--that fire burning in my chest. Alas, it's just one of the many things I am going to have to learn to live with as I go through this.
This week has been better for me. I think I have cut myself down to crying only one time a day. Which, compared to last week, is a pretty big deal. Yesterday was tough. I rented a storage unit, so that I could push our memories into a 10x10 square for a bit. Whether or not this strategy will really work, I am unsure. Nevertheless, we trucked the furniture and various plastic totes up into that storage unit. We saved the pictures for last. I grabbed the large frames wrapped in plastic garbage bags, each of them labeled "I don't wanna see" in Stephanie's handwriting. All I wanted to do was look at them. Why? It's like I am glutton for punishment....
I just can't stop.
That is what got me. The pictures. After the storage unit, it was like a flood of everything returning. Again, all I wanted to do was call him---but that wouldn't do me any good......
More to come.....have to go to work and continue onward. As much as I could sit here and ramble on and on for hours.
This week has been better for me. I think I have cut myself down to crying only one time a day. Which, compared to last week, is a pretty big deal. Yesterday was tough. I rented a storage unit, so that I could push our memories into a 10x10 square for a bit. Whether or not this strategy will really work, I am unsure. Nevertheless, we trucked the furniture and various plastic totes up into that storage unit. We saved the pictures for last. I grabbed the large frames wrapped in plastic garbage bags, each of them labeled "I don't wanna see" in Stephanie's handwriting. All I wanted to do was look at them. Why? It's like I am glutton for punishment....
I just can't stop.
That is what got me. The pictures. After the storage unit, it was like a flood of everything returning. Again, all I wanted to do was call him---but that wouldn't do me any good......
More to come.....have to go to work and continue onward. As much as I could sit here and ramble on and on for hours.
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