Wednesday, March 11, 2009
It still makes me sick
It's been 15 years and it's still the one thing I'm not sure will ever go away. Every single time I see the arch or catch a glimpse of the hospitals in St. Louis, I am instantly nauseated. In person it's worse but I caught a glimpse tonight on a television show and it was like the floor dropped out from underneath me.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Oh the drama
This is a prologue of sorts to something I started writing way back in 2005. I was in a dark place during that time, so I suppose that's where the drama comes from. It's a struggle to type it out and not make a million changes but I've refrained. I'd write this so differently now. Maybe I'll delve further into her story sometime.
She had to leave him.
She had finally realized the grim reality.
She also finally understood that that big "sign" she was waiting for wasn't going to happen. His passivity would never end. There would be no dramatic or heroic gestures to make her change her mind. Maybe he too, knew it was over.
So it came as a bit of a shock to her that she could feel so much pain, standing before him, telling him it was over.
But, true to form, he said nothing. Did nothing to change her mind. So that even though she felt as though her life was falling apart around her, her resolve held.
She cried all night long. In her best friend's guest bedroom she cried until she couldn't cry anymore. When the tears finally stopped, just as the sun was rising on the horizon, she let out a loud, ragged sigh.
A sigh of fear.
A sigh of acceptance.
A sigh of relief...
And here's part of what I wrote beyond that...
Eighteen months later...
It had been rough at first. He hadn't contested anything in the divorce. There had been no late night phone calls or mad rushes into bed for the familiarity of it all. He hadn't turned mean or bitter. His passivitiy hurt her to the core and reinforced that she had been right. He woulc never love her the way she needed to be loved.
Like I said. OH, the drama.
She had to leave him.
She had finally realized the grim reality.
She also finally understood that that big "sign" she was waiting for wasn't going to happen. His passivity would never end. There would be no dramatic or heroic gestures to make her change her mind. Maybe he too, knew it was over.
So it came as a bit of a shock to her that she could feel so much pain, standing before him, telling him it was over.
But, true to form, he said nothing. Did nothing to change her mind. So that even though she felt as though her life was falling apart around her, her resolve held.
She cried all night long. In her best friend's guest bedroom she cried until she couldn't cry anymore. When the tears finally stopped, just as the sun was rising on the horizon, she let out a loud, ragged sigh.
A sigh of fear.
A sigh of acceptance.
A sigh of relief...
And here's part of what I wrote beyond that...
Eighteen months later...
It had been rough at first. He hadn't contested anything in the divorce. There had been no late night phone calls or mad rushes into bed for the familiarity of it all. He hadn't turned mean or bitter. His passivitiy hurt her to the core and reinforced that she had been right. He woulc never love her the way she needed to be loved.
Like I said. OH, the drama.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Moving lyrics
I stumbled upon this today. Yes, roaming Twilight stuff, but that's not the point. The point is that this song is fantastic. Rpattz was singing the version I heard and it was nothing short of phenomenal but it's the lyrics that grab me more than anything. I suppose in some small way they resonate with me a bit but more than anything they are just really powerful lyrics.
I Was Broken. By Marcus Foster
I was tied, but now unbound
My head is off the ground
For a long time I was so weary
Tired of the sound, I've heard before,
The gnawing of the night time at the door,
Haunted by the things I've made
Stuck between the burning light and the dust shade.
I said now I used to think the past was dead and gone,
But I was wrong, so wrong, whatever makes you blind
Must make you strong, make you strong,
In my time I've melted into many forms
From the day that I was born, I know that there's no place to hide
Stuck between the burning shade and the fading light,
I was broken, For a long time, but It's over now.
Yes and you, and you, well you walk these lonely streets that people send, People send.
There are some wounds that just can't mend,
I do pretend, pretend,
I am free from all the things that take my friends
But I will stand here till the end, I know that I can take the moon,
In between the burning shade and the fading light
I was broken, for a long time, but It's over now
I was broken, for a long time, but It's over now
I Was Broken. By Marcus Foster
I was tied, but now unbound
My head is off the ground
For a long time I was so weary
Tired of the sound, I've heard before,
The gnawing of the night time at the door,
Haunted by the things I've made
Stuck between the burning light and the dust shade.
I said now I used to think the past was dead and gone,
But I was wrong, so wrong, whatever makes you blind
Must make you strong, make you strong,
In my time I've melted into many forms
From the day that I was born, I know that there's no place to hide
Stuck between the burning shade and the fading light,
I was broken, For a long time, but It's over now.
Yes and you, and you, well you walk these lonely streets that people send, People send.
There are some wounds that just can't mend,
I do pretend, pretend,
I am free from all the things that take my friends
But I will stand here till the end, I know that I can take the moon,
In between the burning shade and the fading light
I was broken, for a long time, but It's over now
I was broken, for a long time, but It's over now
Sunday, January 25, 2009
My incredibly bizarre dream from last night.
It was winter. Very cold and tons of snow on the ground. There was a boy in the dream whom I knew to be my boyfriend. He was very tall and built. (Not beefy buff) He was strong but scared. He had brown, wild hair. I know exactly who he looked like in my dream (Someone famous. I won't post who b/c, well, that's my little secret) and who he was (a cross between that someone famous and a character from a movie a few years back.) I always had a feeling throughout the dream that he was frantic for my safety. But I seemed at peace with my fate and kept focusing on helping him not feel so frantic. Although, I never actually *did* anything in the first part of the dream to help him, I knew I was somehow. I was me but not the real me. There was no husband, child, nothing resembling my current life. He, I and a bunch of other people were at this house in the middle of nowhwere. Under the snow the ground was plush with grass and trees. None of them was dead but just totally covered with this thick snow.
If I had to guess, I'd say there were maybe 50 -60 people there. About half were outside. The people outside were wearing hats, scarves, gloves-all bundled up. They were standing spread apart, not moving, facing the house. For some reason, we all knew that they would not or could not come in. However they weren't a threat. It was as though they had given up. (More on that in a sec.) A girl in the house was opening the door to get heat to them but they wouldn't come in. The lady directly outside the door looked at us sadly but also peacefully. Anyhow, we all knew they weren't a danger to us but something else was. Something was going to come in the air and probably kill us all.
We made the girl close the door because we were safer inside and they had chosen to be outside. I think we also had the idea that the heat might run out at some point and we needed to preserve as much of it as possible. I remember I kept thinking if everyone would just come in, we could cram together in one room to create more heat. But I had accepted the fact that they wouldn't be coming in and that those of us inside would have to deal with it without them. How heat was crucial, I have no idea. And we associated the ending of the heat with the scary threat looming.
Throughout everything, I accepted the threats without much fear for myself. I was constantly fixated on easing his fear.
The thing is, we had NO idea of when the danger was coming or even exactly what it was. We could get vague clues from reading the paper but we still didn't know when or exactly how it would happen. It could have been YEARS.
Then the snow was all melted and for some reason the fact that spring came and we were still alive meant that we might have a chance to survive.
I don't know how I got outside but I did. I was running across the grass and kept looking up at the sky like I was expecting this sinister thing to move in from the sky and kill us all. Like a mist. I wasn't scared for myself until I felt odd bits of hope that spring was here and the snow was gone and that we might be able to survive. Feeling those bits of hope made me more fearful and I kept trying to push the hope away and stay in acceptance because it was so painful to think of surviving and then possibly have it yanked away again. I was running to get to him and calm him. I remember running back to the house to tell him. The ground was just running with the melted snow as if it had all melted at once. Everything was saturated and water ran in rivulets and streams all over the place. The grass was definitely bright green and the trees all had leaves.
Once in, I ran to the bedroom and saw him there. He looked terrified. He was dividing pills of some kind from a giant bottle into smaller ones. They looked big, not quite as big as Necco wafers but bigger than a sweet tart. They were white. He said he was going to sell them to the people outside (Who were still there but had moved now and were much more spread out) to try to save me. He held my right hand and squeezed it while he spoke to me. That's when I touched his face/jaw.
It was so vivid that I can still feel it and feel how I felt when I touched him. His skin was shaved smooth as silk. He had a hard, square jawline and I pressed my left hand up against it, cradling his cheek and jaw in my hand. He leaned his head in and briefly closed his eyes. I could feel the weight of his head in my hand as he squeezed my other hand in his. He didn't say it but I knew he was frantic to get on with what he was doing so he could save me from...whatever. I was completely sure of his love/concern for me. I think I tried to tell him that we might be okay and it might not be necessary to do this but he was reluctant and wanted assurance and to go ahead with it anyhow just to be sure.
I think he hugged me but I was waking up by that point.
And that's it. How bizarre is that?! And no, I don't take drugs or even drink really so it wasn't some sort of bad trip. I just found it to be extremely interesting.
If I had to guess, I'd say there were maybe 50 -60 people there. About half were outside. The people outside were wearing hats, scarves, gloves-all bundled up. They were standing spread apart, not moving, facing the house. For some reason, we all knew that they would not or could not come in. However they weren't a threat. It was as though they had given up. (More on that in a sec.) A girl in the house was opening the door to get heat to them but they wouldn't come in. The lady directly outside the door looked at us sadly but also peacefully. Anyhow, we all knew they weren't a danger to us but something else was. Something was going to come in the air and probably kill us all.
We made the girl close the door because we were safer inside and they had chosen to be outside. I think we also had the idea that the heat might run out at some point and we needed to preserve as much of it as possible. I remember I kept thinking if everyone would just come in, we could cram together in one room to create more heat. But I had accepted the fact that they wouldn't be coming in and that those of us inside would have to deal with it without them. How heat was crucial, I have no idea. And we associated the ending of the heat with the scary threat looming.
Throughout everything, I accepted the threats without much fear for myself. I was constantly fixated on easing his fear.
The thing is, we had NO idea of when the danger was coming or even exactly what it was. We could get vague clues from reading the paper but we still didn't know when or exactly how it would happen. It could have been YEARS.
Then the snow was all melted and for some reason the fact that spring came and we were still alive meant that we might have a chance to survive.
I don't know how I got outside but I did. I was running across the grass and kept looking up at the sky like I was expecting this sinister thing to move in from the sky and kill us all. Like a mist. I wasn't scared for myself until I felt odd bits of hope that spring was here and the snow was gone and that we might be able to survive. Feeling those bits of hope made me more fearful and I kept trying to push the hope away and stay in acceptance because it was so painful to think of surviving and then possibly have it yanked away again. I was running to get to him and calm him. I remember running back to the house to tell him. The ground was just running with the melted snow as if it had all melted at once. Everything was saturated and water ran in rivulets and streams all over the place. The grass was definitely bright green and the trees all had leaves.
Once in, I ran to the bedroom and saw him there. He looked terrified. He was dividing pills of some kind from a giant bottle into smaller ones. They looked big, not quite as big as Necco wafers but bigger than a sweet tart. They were white. He said he was going to sell them to the people outside (Who were still there but had moved now and were much more spread out) to try to save me. He held my right hand and squeezed it while he spoke to me. That's when I touched his face/jaw.
It was so vivid that I can still feel it and feel how I felt when I touched him. His skin was shaved smooth as silk. He had a hard, square jawline and I pressed my left hand up against it, cradling his cheek and jaw in my hand. He leaned his head in and briefly closed his eyes. I could feel the weight of his head in my hand as he squeezed my other hand in his. He didn't say it but I knew he was frantic to get on with what he was doing so he could save me from...whatever. I was completely sure of his love/concern for me. I think I tried to tell him that we might be okay and it might not be necessary to do this but he was reluctant and wanted assurance and to go ahead with it anyhow just to be sure.
I think he hugged me but I was waking up by that point.
And that's it. How bizarre is that?! And no, I don't take drugs or even drink really so it wasn't some sort of bad trip. I just found it to be extremely interesting.
Friday, January 23, 2009
My big Pif.
So I have this term that I use (mostly to myself) when I'm writing. When I finally make a connection, or write something that brings things together or get a good idea, I tend to call it a Min Pif. It means a small epiphany. Something small that makes sense of everything.
Today I had a great big Pif completely unrelated to my writing.
I had a very inconsequential exchange of sorts. Nothing of importance. Not an argument or a problem in any way. Just a short conversation. But I was still left on an unsure note.
As I sat in my car later, contemplating this exchange, I began a very interesting thought process. I began to think, well what does this mean? Is this person pissed? Will they decide they don't want to talk to me anymore? Did I do something wrong?
I analyzed every bit of the exchange always asking myself if and where I went wrong.
Then, in my mind, I became defiant. Well if they don't want to deal with me anymore that sucks but fine. I'll just have to deal with it.
Then something clicked into place in my head. (This is where the Big Pif happens, people.)
I recognized this thought process. This is something I do damn near ANY time I have a conversation with anyone that turns out less than perfect. Especially in my work but not limited to that realm.
I immediately assume something might be wrong. Next I assume I have done something wrong to cause this. Finally I actually leap to the conclusion and accept that this person is done with me outside of any obligation they may have. In my warped mind, I can some how readily accept that it would be so easy for someone to, basically, leave me behind.
Huh.
Now this isn't some sappy, sentimental post. I just thought it was bizarre. If someone had asked me point blank before if I do this exact thing, I probably would have been confused and answered no, not at all. It wasn't until I was able to recognize the process AS it happened that I even realized that I do this.
After realizing this, I reflected on my interactions with people who have been of lesser importance-people I've met in passing, people I've never met because I was too afraid to talk to them or reach out. Same pattern with the only difference being that I never believed myself to be someone who could offer anything that they would want. I reflected on many, many paths I've dreamt of taking over time and never took one step in that direction. Same pattern. It was not possible for me. I don't really know why I felt like that, but I did. Maybe still do? I dunno. This a fairly new Pif.
Talk about some deep rooted shit!
Where does this come from? What experiences in my life left me with this belief that it's normal for people not to want me? Well, I guess the obvious is my Mom leaving when I was a toddler. Little more than two years old. As an educator I know that the experiences we have in the first three years can actually physically alter brain structure, such is the impact. Could that be it? Could that one experience have resulted in this?
I'm no psychologist but it is interesting to wonder about. How to fix it? Well I'm going to guess that even realizing you're doing it is helpful. Beyond that, you've got me. I teach people about brain development every single day and I have no idea.
I just thought it was interesting.
Today I had a great big Pif completely unrelated to my writing.
I had a very inconsequential exchange of sorts. Nothing of importance. Not an argument or a problem in any way. Just a short conversation. But I was still left on an unsure note.
As I sat in my car later, contemplating this exchange, I began a very interesting thought process. I began to think, well what does this mean? Is this person pissed? Will they decide they don't want to talk to me anymore? Did I do something wrong?
I analyzed every bit of the exchange always asking myself if and where I went wrong.
Then, in my mind, I became defiant. Well if they don't want to deal with me anymore that sucks but fine. I'll just have to deal with it.
Then something clicked into place in my head. (This is where the Big Pif happens, people.)
I recognized this thought process. This is something I do damn near ANY time I have a conversation with anyone that turns out less than perfect. Especially in my work but not limited to that realm.
I immediately assume something might be wrong. Next I assume I have done something wrong to cause this. Finally I actually leap to the conclusion and accept that this person is done with me outside of any obligation they may have. In my warped mind, I can some how readily accept that it would be so easy for someone to, basically, leave me behind.
Huh.
Now this isn't some sappy, sentimental post. I just thought it was bizarre. If someone had asked me point blank before if I do this exact thing, I probably would have been confused and answered no, not at all. It wasn't until I was able to recognize the process AS it happened that I even realized that I do this.
After realizing this, I reflected on my interactions with people who have been of lesser importance-people I've met in passing, people I've never met because I was too afraid to talk to them or reach out. Same pattern with the only difference being that I never believed myself to be someone who could offer anything that they would want. I reflected on many, many paths I've dreamt of taking over time and never took one step in that direction. Same pattern. It was not possible for me. I don't really know why I felt like that, but I did. Maybe still do? I dunno. This a fairly new Pif.
Talk about some deep rooted shit!
Where does this come from? What experiences in my life left me with this belief that it's normal for people not to want me? Well, I guess the obvious is my Mom leaving when I was a toddler. Little more than two years old. As an educator I know that the experiences we have in the first three years can actually physically alter brain structure, such is the impact. Could that be it? Could that one experience have resulted in this?
I'm no psychologist but it is interesting to wonder about. How to fix it? Well I'm going to guess that even realizing you're doing it is helpful. Beyond that, you've got me. I teach people about brain development every single day and I have no idea.
I just thought it was interesting.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Daily Motivation
Well, day one of really making an effort to work out is a partial success, I think. I managed to work up a really good sweat as I spent 15 minutes trying to make theWii fit board work. When that failed, I had to resort to the ridiculously chipper Denise Austin whose dvd is my backup plan. I nearly didn't do it. But then I found the motivation. Found the motivation through the sexiest voice on earth saying the words "Feel like it's dirty. Feel like it's wrong" through my earbuds. Yes, thanks to my parter in hormone related crime, I now have that mp3 on my IPOD and talk about motivation! Whoo!
So I faced my fears and spent 20 minutes flailing about while alternately imagining punching the chipper bitch and remembering those beautiful words. Dirty. Wrong. Indeed!
So mission accomplished. Got my workout in. One down. Thousands to go. And as long as his voice is there, waiting to taunt me, I may just make them happen.
So I faced my fears and spent 20 minutes flailing about while alternately imagining punching the chipper bitch and remembering those beautiful words. Dirty. Wrong. Indeed!
So mission accomplished. Got my workout in. One down. Thousands to go. And as long as his voice is there, waiting to taunt me, I may just make them happen.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Darkness and Light
I'd like to start this post in with the words of one of my new favorite characters, Dark Edward.
What the Fucking, Fuck?!
Seriously, Jesus H fucking french toast why do people act so stupid? Is it not possible to just go to a grocery store without people acting like complete and total jackasses? I won't get into specifics. If you're at all coherent, you know what I'm talking about.
I don't really intend this blog to be about my daily experiences but it relates to what my blog will be about in this way: I really just wanted to tell all the fuckers to Fuck off and Die. But I can't because of what I'm supposed to be. That, my friends, is the very essence of my blog. Who I am vs. who I pretend to be. Who I want to be vs. what is acceptable for me to be. What I want to do vs. what I have to do.
Making any sense? Probably not. Just know this is probably not what you'll expect from me. Very, very few people know me. In fact, I would venture to say there might only be one person in this world who really knows me. She'll be reading. :) And probably not surprised because she's known me for at least a decade now.
The truth is, I haven't always known me. Does that confuse you? It should. It confuses me. So this blog will be a place for me to reminisce about experiences past and ponder how I got from there to here and how I went years without any identity. How I went from whole to torn completely into separate pieces and maybe now, whole again. It might be a place where I share some of my writing. It also might just be a place for me to say Fuck you and Die to whomever I want without having to worry about the ramifications. And if you really want to get fucking dramatic my ventures into the darkest of dark and back into the light.
And if you're wondering, my blog title is inspired by an amazing book that all literature lovers should read called A Separate Peace.
What the Fucking, Fuck?!
Seriously, Jesus H fucking french toast why do people act so stupid? Is it not possible to just go to a grocery store without people acting like complete and total jackasses? I won't get into specifics. If you're at all coherent, you know what I'm talking about.
I don't really intend this blog to be about my daily experiences but it relates to what my blog will be about in this way: I really just wanted to tell all the fuckers to Fuck off and Die. But I can't because of what I'm supposed to be. That, my friends, is the very essence of my blog. Who I am vs. who I pretend to be. Who I want to be vs. what is acceptable for me to be. What I want to do vs. what I have to do.
Making any sense? Probably not. Just know this is probably not what you'll expect from me. Very, very few people know me. In fact, I would venture to say there might only be one person in this world who really knows me. She'll be reading. :) And probably not surprised because she's known me for at least a decade now.
The truth is, I haven't always known me. Does that confuse you? It should. It confuses me. So this blog will be a place for me to reminisce about experiences past and ponder how I got from there to here and how I went years without any identity. How I went from whole to torn completely into separate pieces and maybe now, whole again. It might be a place where I share some of my writing. It also might just be a place for me to say Fuck you and Die to whomever I want without having to worry about the ramifications. And if you really want to get fucking dramatic my ventures into the darkest of dark and back into the light.
And if you're wondering, my blog title is inspired by an amazing book that all literature lovers should read called A Separate Peace.
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