It's funny how everything you think you know about yourself and your life can change in 24 hours.
Last night, I was invited to a poker game for my friend's birthday. I went, of course, and I had a good time; I spent the night with a group of people I haven't really hung out with in over a year, maybe longer. I worked alongside them for the better part of a decade, some longer, some less. They continued their careers after I made the difficult decision to leave that path and take a new one. Schedules no longer synced, we didn't have as much in common to talk about anymore, and whatever other things came into play, we fell out of touch. This has happened before, and we've always picked up right where we left off, everyone knowing that sometimes life just gets in the way. I was hopeful and excited for this to happen once more, however, this time something had changed.
All night we laughed and joked, but there was an emptiness to it. I didn't feel the familiar tug at my heartstrings like I always have; one man that I love with all of my heart seemed surprised at the old familiar connections we share, as if he had forgotten how close we've always been and what got us there in the first place. I realized what was going on when I had my iPod on shuffle for the room and he said to me "you know, we listen to the same music." I looked at him for a beat or two, puzzled, then nodded silently, and I saw pain in his eyes. That was when my heart broke a little, realizing somehow we'd left each other behind. As I went home that night, the realization came over me that I had already let go of the past, and now it was time to move on.
I carried that profound melancholy all day today. Then, after work, I got a phone call from another friend whom I haven't seen in a while. He decided to surprise me and drive up to where I work to visit and see how I was doing; only problem was, he couldn't remember where that was exactly, because I'd changed jobs in the last year. By the time he called, he'd already driven to two different bars looking for me, and finally decided it was time to give up the charade and get directions. I couldn't believe how sweet (and kind of funny) that was. Once he knew where I was, he came to the bar with me and a couple of my new friends from work. We had a few beers, talked about life, laughed and had a good time. It was like he knew somehow that I really needed a friend today.
After he left, one of the girls and I were talking about how awesome it was that he did what he did today just to surprise me, and how it was a complete contrast to what happened with my other old friends last night. Near the end of the discussion, she said, "you've moved on from that phase in your life, and that's okay. Someday they may move on too, and then you'll reconnect when the time is right." It sounds silly, but her understanding and saying that to me, combined with his surprise visit, made everything okay again.
Once more, good people have renewed my faith in love and life without knowing I needed it.
What a difference a day can make.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Pouring rain
Mother nature amazes me.
When the skies open up out of nowhere and you can hear the rain assaulting the roof, seeming like it will break through any second ... then it's obvious, she is all powerful.
It's a heady thought.
My mind likes to wander when it rains. It's been wandering to this guy, muddling the thought of him around in my head for a while. I enjoy making him laugh. I have a bit of a love affair with getting to know people; I ask little questions, here and there, testing the waters to see if this is someone I might trust enough to let into my circle.
It's a very, very small circle.
In what I consider to be an era of my life that has been rampant with intentional solitude, it's nice to find someone who sparks the interest in me to dig.
Who knows. In another month I might be calling him an asshole. Stay tuned.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Love
It's officially the first of September. I always feel a renewed sense of faith in life once this date arrives. This is my time - I live for late summer and fall.
Against all odds, today was a good day. Maybe it's just my underlying heady excitement, but I'm smiling nonetheless. I changed jobs recently, and working in a new city, with different people in a much faster paced environment has been quite stressful, but I finally feel like I've found my groove. The possibility of a new career track is exciting and keeps me driven. A lot of things went wrong there today; a lot of silly mistakes were made, the majority of people around me were cranky and negative - honestly it felt like the whole building had PMS. I did my best to try and lighten the mood whenever possible, and I think I found some new friends in the process. It's amazing what you're capable of when you're determined to make the best of things.
Today, I felt the pattern break. I laughed and talked, poked and prodded, fucked around with and sang to someone I barely know. These are things I haven't done in over a decade ... and knowing it put a smile on his face warmed my heart and soul.
Surprise, surprise.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Just another day.
Yesterday was my birthday. As usual, it passed uncelebrated. One or more of my family always finds something better to do with their time that day; this year it was my brother, so I've just become accustomed to working and letting it pass. Somehow, it still hurts.
This year, I spent some time reflecting on why my life is the way that it is. I've said it before, and it still rings true; sometimes I feel like I'm paying for the sins of 100 lives. My paternal grandmother considered herself a bit otherworldly; psychic, witch, however you'd like to refer to it, she felt she could tap into things beyond the norm. I didn't see her much growing up, but when I was a child, she did a "reading" on me, and gave the details to my mother - all that has been relayed to me is that I lived many past lives on this earth, making me an old soul. Mom refuses to tell me the rest.
I wonder, sometimes, if she doesn't tell me because what was "read" was not at all pleasant. Otherwise, why bother hiding it?
Unpleasant past lives would make sense, considering how troubled my current one is. I know that all souls on earth have struggles, and face problems all their own that seem insurmountable. I do not mean to discount what anyone else goes through; all I know is that this life, for me, has been non-stop struggle and strife, bad luck and bad decisions. At the age of eighteen I had gone through more life crises than most fourty-year-olds, and the pattern just continues. To say I'm tired would be a gross understatement.
I'm giving up. I've had enough. My emotions are flat, my tears are dried up, and I've nothing left in my voice to scream. I'm tired of seeing injustice in this world, being an unwilling victim of circumstance, trying to stay positive, to see the silver lining just to get punched in the face, and never being able to get out ahead of it all to catch my breath.
I've struggled too much, been put through too much for this life to be a long one.
I've come to the conclusion that we do not need to fear going to Hell.
We're already living in it.
This year, I spent some time reflecting on why my life is the way that it is. I've said it before, and it still rings true; sometimes I feel like I'm paying for the sins of 100 lives. My paternal grandmother considered herself a bit otherworldly; psychic, witch, however you'd like to refer to it, she felt she could tap into things beyond the norm. I didn't see her much growing up, but when I was a child, she did a "reading" on me, and gave the details to my mother - all that has been relayed to me is that I lived many past lives on this earth, making me an old soul. Mom refuses to tell me the rest.
I wonder, sometimes, if she doesn't tell me because what was "read" was not at all pleasant. Otherwise, why bother hiding it?
Unpleasant past lives would make sense, considering how troubled my current one is. I know that all souls on earth have struggles, and face problems all their own that seem insurmountable. I do not mean to discount what anyone else goes through; all I know is that this life, for me, has been non-stop struggle and strife, bad luck and bad decisions. At the age of eighteen I had gone through more life crises than most fourty-year-olds, and the pattern just continues. To say I'm tired would be a gross understatement.
I'm giving up. I've had enough. My emotions are flat, my tears are dried up, and I've nothing left in my voice to scream. I'm tired of seeing injustice in this world, being an unwilling victim of circumstance, trying to stay positive, to see the silver lining just to get punched in the face, and never being able to get out ahead of it all to catch my breath.
I've struggled too much, been put through too much for this life to be a long one.
I've come to the conclusion that we do not need to fear going to Hell.
We're already living in it.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Unmedicated me
For the last five years or so, I've been on a mild antidepressant medication. I was put on it by my doctor after the breakup of my engagement, which in the end became extremely unhealthy and abusive, and resulted in my deep suicidal depression. I'm sure there's a blog or two about the specific events buried here somewhere.
About three weeks ago now, I was taken off said medication. Doc thinks I'm doing so well that I don't need it anymore. This should be good, right? I didn't even want to take it in the first place. Even so, I was a bit nervous as the bottle got emptier and emptier. What would happen?
My life and soul were such a mess five years ago, I didn't think I would survive it. Obviously now I am a different person than I was before. Ten years older, five years wiser, battle-scarred and a little jaded, but how much of my "healed" personality was/is dictated by this little pill?
Scary stuff, when you really think about it.
Some noteworthy observations:
The crazy intense dreams have become more manageable; fewer nightmares.
No more side-effect dry mouth
Insomnia is less frequent
My temper flares a little hotter
I laugh a little louder
I cry a little more often, and now when I get mad
My family gets on my nerves a lot quicker
My internal radio has come back, and switches stations more often
I'm a little less patient
Things that bother me stick with me a little bit longer
I'm more aware of my surroundings
I like what I see in the mirror far more often
I'm less self-critical
I don't think for quite as long before I speak
My memory is improving
My senses seem a bit heightened, although that could be the summer weather.
Coffee wakes me up again.
Nothing drastic, really - the hardest part is adjusting to the irritations that come with my family, and getting reacquainted with myself. I just find it fascinating how much even a little filter can alter your view on the world.
This is actually my first public discussion on the subject; very few people in my life know I've been taking antidepressants. Maybe being off them now has made me feel like more of a success story and less of a failure for not being able to handle my life on my own.
Whether or not this was a mistake will remain to be seen. Just chalk it up to another in the line from the queen of bad decisions. ;-)
About three weeks ago now, I was taken off said medication. Doc thinks I'm doing so well that I don't need it anymore. This should be good, right? I didn't even want to take it in the first place. Even so, I was a bit nervous as the bottle got emptier and emptier. What would happen?
My life and soul were such a mess five years ago, I didn't think I would survive it. Obviously now I am a different person than I was before. Ten years older, five years wiser, battle-scarred and a little jaded, but how much of my "healed" personality was/is dictated by this little pill?
Scary stuff, when you really think about it.
Some noteworthy observations:
The crazy intense dreams have become more manageable; fewer nightmares.
No more side-effect dry mouth
Insomnia is less frequent
My temper flares a little hotter
I laugh a little louder
I cry a little more often, and now when I get mad
My family gets on my nerves a lot quicker
My internal radio has come back, and switches stations more often
I'm a little less patient
Things that bother me stick with me a little bit longer
I'm more aware of my surroundings
I like what I see in the mirror far more often
I'm less self-critical
I don't think for quite as long before I speak
My memory is improving
My senses seem a bit heightened, although that could be the summer weather.
Coffee wakes me up again.
Nothing drastic, really - the hardest part is adjusting to the irritations that come with my family, and getting reacquainted with myself. I just find it fascinating how much even a little filter can alter your view on the world.
This is actually my first public discussion on the subject; very few people in my life know I've been taking antidepressants. Maybe being off them now has made me feel like more of a success story and less of a failure for not being able to handle my life on my own.
Whether or not this was a mistake will remain to be seen. Just chalk it up to another in the line from the queen of bad decisions. ;-)
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
I try to keep awake ...
Exhausted, without plausible cause.
I'm not sure what's missing; only that something definitely is. I seem to circle this bundle of emotional gunfire every once in a while.
Breathing, is the hardest thing to do ...
There are times in my life when words fail. It is these times that I wish I could just reply to everything with lyrics, shout them at passersby without provocation, scream them at the top of my lungs when no one is listening, and sit sullenly in a bar somewhere sipping a martini with the jukebox blaring.
No, I don't often drink beer at bars. If I'm in a bar paying for service, you can be damned sure I'm ordering a drink. I can crack a Corona Light and lime it with my eyes closed. If I walk into your view some night, fresh off the motorcycle, and you start making assumptions based on how I'm dressed or the way I'm walking, you're just the type I'd rather not speak to anyway.
Refer to the rock song of the moment for clarification, if you so choose. Sometimes I think the radio knows me better than any man ever will.
Suddenly angry and aggressive, without plausible cause.
Who am I kidding ... for that there's a very definite cause. One I've thus far been refusing to deal with on an emotional level.
With the lights out, this is dangerous ...
I walk like I mean it. If you know what's best, you'll likely get out of the way.
I'm not sure what's missing; only that something definitely is. I seem to circle this bundle of emotional gunfire every once in a while.
Breathing, is the hardest thing to do ...
There are times in my life when words fail. It is these times that I wish I could just reply to everything with lyrics, shout them at passersby without provocation, scream them at the top of my lungs when no one is listening, and sit sullenly in a bar somewhere sipping a martini with the jukebox blaring.
No, I don't often drink beer at bars. If I'm in a bar paying for service, you can be damned sure I'm ordering a drink. I can crack a Corona Light and lime it with my eyes closed. If I walk into your view some night, fresh off the motorcycle, and you start making assumptions based on how I'm dressed or the way I'm walking, you're just the type I'd rather not speak to anyway.
Refer to the rock song of the moment for clarification, if you so choose. Sometimes I think the radio knows me better than any man ever will.
Suddenly angry and aggressive, without plausible cause.
Who am I kidding ... for that there's a very definite cause. One I've thus far been refusing to deal with on an emotional level.
With the lights out, this is dangerous ...
I walk like I mean it. If you know what's best, you'll likely get out of the way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)