Saturday, July 20, 2013

next step into my personal "pit of despair"...

It seems the next step is anger.  But I am not the kind of angry where I am screaming or raging.  It is disconnected, perhaps closer to a volatile version of sadness.  I decided to look for some of my old things- I have two binders that hold the poetry I wrote when I was in high school.  I know we have them here somewhere.  I thought I knew where.  But when I went to look, the amount of stuff that was there was overwhelming.  The thing is, there were games and Christmas stuff...and boxes and bags and piles of John's stuff.  And I realized how much of my life I have spent closing doors to my past.  Maybe it wasn't so much about closing, but about moving on in a way that leaves almost everything behind. Maybe it is just that I moved on so many times... I feel like my few things are just buried by all his stuff....I always felt a little like I was on the sidelines...we were both adventurous.  He was more so, by far.  We were both talkers, and he was more so. It wasn't his fault...I wanted to try to enter his life as much as I could.  And he always encouraged me to keep writing, to dance, to do those things that I loved that were only mine.  I just didn't know how to reach out to do that.

So I ended up frustrated with his diving and trampoline stories...I love swimming, but was afraid of diving and only really let him give me one series of lessons.  I really liked bouncing trampoline, but it felt so odd to be so much older than kids doing so much more than me...and it was so much fun when I started to get the barani (front flip with a half twist) and even did it into pools!  Then, I got pregnant and everything just went so damn fast after that...my mother dying, insane stress at school, losing the house, living in his parents' basement all crammed into two rooms, then Neil and then cancer and then...and I never felt cool enough around most of his friends.  I was embarrassed that I was not from their world, not able to do the things they could...I felt like so much less than him, so often.  I felt like I didn't fit.  He hated that I felt that way and always tried to reassure me, but I have old issues with self confidence.


I am not alone.  I keep saying this.  There are songs about love and longing…about desire and hollowness.  Since the beginning of time, there has been heart ache.  Till the end of time, there will be heart ache.  It often seems that one of the things that touches me, that reaches inside and helps me feel this, is music.  Beautiful voices, lamenting and melting, coating and covering, sad and strong and  magical:  Ella Fitzgerald, Pavarotti, Billie Holiday…

But I am alone.  I feel like I am a ghost of walking desire.  It isn’t only the sensual touches, the lips and kisses and arching backs…it is the feelings that bring you to the place where those things are the natural consequences of everything else you are with another person.  



I feel like I am a ghost in general.  I can't keep functioning in his world without him when I felt like I barely fit beside him.  And without him, I have no world.  Don't get me wrong, I have a terrific school where I have been since he proposed, so they know my journey.  I have a wonderful church community with open minds that value curiosity, compassion, and that witnessed John's determination and positive force first hand.  But that's it.  I keep thinking I would like to take dancing lessons.  Who would babysit?  I'd like to start working out more regularly, but my stupid psoriasis hurts my feet and there seem to always be kid issues.  Or not enough energy to even get out of bed.  I would love to travel again, but that would mean finding someone to care for the pets, in addition to money I don't have.  I hope to be able to continue singing in my church choir but, again, who will babysit when it is something so regular?  And I have thought about poetry readings at cafe's downtown, or cooking classes, or Parents without Partners dances...When you rely on the kindness of previous students and friendly folks from church to babysit for free because paying sitters is so hard to do when money is so tight, you can only find help so often...that is a big part of my problem in general.  There are many many amazingly sweet people who have been there to help and who have supported my family in various ways.  But their families do and should come first in their lives.  And I know I need to ask for help, it's just the fact that I keep on needing it, and will likely continue to need it for some time...it is the repetitive nature of my need that is intimidating and that makes me feel like it eventually becomes a burden and not a blessing....

So I am listening to music that sends waves deep into my heart;  watching movies so I don't cry alone; reading books to go to places other than where I am; reaching into the past to remember days before this kind of pain.  And the kids are living off Little Bites muffins, V8 Fusion, peanut butter and jelly, hot dogs, and pizza.  Oh, and popcorn, or course.  I am living off coffee with vanilla creamer, luna bars, crackers and cheese or hummus, raw veggies nibbled direct from the fridge at random moments, too much red wine, and green machine with a splash of hemp oil.  



The Pit of Despair...in case someone didn't know...