archived I hear you, sometimes

Sometimes when the most tragic of events occur there is no drama, no screaming, dropping to your knees, no one to hold you and tell you it will be ok. Rather you find yourself in an empty tunnel, if you scream you will hear only the echo of your own screams. It will go on echoing untill it fades leaving you alone and quiet again. The world continues to rotate, at neck-breaking speeds, images swirling together unlike any roller coaster that could ever exist. At that moment the only thing that you can focus on is yourself.

Sometimes when you find your way out of that tunnel, and poke your head up like a burrowed animal, the light is blinding. Humanity is still racing, groping, pushing to get ahead of one another. The pain is piercing, the sounds are crippling, and no one even notices that you have burrowed away like the tiny rodent that you are, worse is that they haven't noticed that you re-entererd their world, or that you were ever missing at all.

Sometimes you notice how self-serving, self-absorbed the broad majority seems to be. Politeness is overlooked, common courtesy dismissed, a sense of entitlement replacing graciousness. Parents neglecting their children, family's broken and patched together, friendships destroyed by jealousy, lack of time, lack of compassion.

Sometimes in this place you look inward, farther than you ever knew you could go. Again you are blinded by a light, a light that all of your ancestors before you have carried and buried in your soul, the light that burns to keep you warm, comforted, secure. The strength of those who endured the unthinkable, who fought for you to be here, who persevered in times you can't even endure thinking about.

Sometimes you realize that this breath inside you is a gift, the heart that beats inside you a symbol of strength and power beating, beating, beating, in a rhythm of its own, indifferent to your trivial pursuits and disappointments, for you, on and on and on.

Sometimes you see that other people are hurting, they too have burrowed in their holes, some deeper than you realized the earth could go. Some just underneath the surface, and you too have failed to realize that they were gone. Failed to realize when they re-entered, stronger or weaker from their own personal batttles. Perhaps you have suffered similar losses, sifted through similar lessons, caught glances of one another in the wars.

Sometimes, you just need to take a moment, take stock in your being, remember what makes you thrive, find your backbone, dust it off and stand tall because of it. Remember whose shoulders you stand on, remember who is standing on yours.

Archived ET phone home

Wouldn't it be cool if everyone had a heart that lit up when they saw someone they loved? There would be no confusion when you reached out to touch them your lights would unite. As cheesy as it sounds-really I think it would be useful. No mixed signals-no lies or betrayals, if you saw that light fading you could make an exit promptly and save someone the hurt and surprise of all those nasty ways people break up. Maybe you could save yourself all the trouble and negative self talk assuming nobody really cares about you -if you could see them light up as you entered a room. People aren't very good at communicating-or perhaps I set that precedence for others toward me by not communicating myself-therefor a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. If you don't use those communication skills for years at a time-do you lose them? If there is no one wanting to communicate with you-does it mean you are not communication worthy? If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it-it still makes noise, right? So it stands to reason that I still might have some communication skills if they were ever needed again, yes? I hope so.
It is strange to me how people do choose to communicate-through lists, texts, emails. What ever happened to good old fashioned face to face one on one conversation? Surely people still do this-but I look around and don't see much of it, even with the married couples I know. They talk briefly over coffee in the morning, or through emails throughout the day, but people seem so self-involved do they really Talk to each other? I like my time alone, knowing that I set my own schedule, eat what I want, never need to take someone else into consideration when I want to go shopping or to the gym, but perhaps there is some middle ground. A way to keep your independence AND love/be loved. A time to sit down with someone you cherish and who cherishes you and tune out all other things so that maybe you can see their heart light up like ET and they can see yours. Here's to believing in ET and other fantasies.

Searching for the Wizard

I am attempting to press pause on my mind for a few days while I wait for results from the dr. from my upper endoscopic procedure. In the meantime I am frantically searching the internet for some answer that is really impossible to obtain. I am not actually that worried, I don't feel like my health is in grave danger, but I do feel like I am caught up in the eye of the tornado. And I feel that there must be some root problem to all the health issues. And in this process I feel like Dorothy looking for the Wizard. My yellow brick road is the internet, but alas I have no good witch Glenda helping me along the way. In my quest for optimal health I am willing to try all sorts of things, different diets, different medications, acupuncture, etc...and of course they are all good things, but is one of them the answer? I have seen countless doctors, and they all will give me a different type of medicine for one thing or another, but it can't all be disconnected right? There has to be one underlying thing that is the cause of all these different ailments, there has to be, I am just not convinced that these issues are all separate. I am searching for some kind of medicinal wholistic approach, that must exist, right? The more I see different types of Doctors the more I start to feel like they are the men behind the curtains. They don't have my answers, or at least I haven't met one yet that does. They act like they do, they seem confident, but I guess science really is just trial and error much like every other aspect of life. I suppose I must come to terms with that somehow, continue my search and stay positive. Now, where are my ruby slippers?

Gluten Gluttony

I am mourning more than usual at the end of this holiday season because I know in my heart what doctors have been suggesting for years is true. I have a gluten sensitivity. I have unsuccesfully tried to go gluten free in the past and it never lasts more than say...a week?
Here is the thing about lifestyle change-it Consumes YOU. And inevitably I feel like a huge burden to those poor souls who are kind enough to listen. So rather than blab, bitch, and be unbearable, I will document on my blog. This isn't really an original idea-thank goodness other brave souls have gone before me so that I know at least I am not alone in the cyber world. Today my friend Becky found this blog that I adored simply for the title: glutenhatesme.com. Because that is how I feel. Gluten HATES me. AbHOres me. And it REALLY hurts my feelings, not to mention my head, my stomach, my chest...etc...
I feel like the best friend I have had all of my life died. Gluten. Everywhere I look there are places we used to get together. Gluten gave me bread, cake, cookies, every special event in my life-gluten was there. Birthdays, special dinners, breakfast, lunch, and treats. Sometimes we were alone, sometimes we socialized, but we were Always together. Always.
Right now it isn't too bad if I just stay home alone and pretend Gluten never existed. But if I venture out of my house the reminders are Everywhere. So today I am still in mourning. There might be a private funeral. I am not sure.
Today I made chicken parm. with gluten free bread crumbs. :-/ We shall see!

The ugly holiday truth

This blog is not for the feint of heart. The holidays. An anticipated time whether your dread them or look forward to them. I feel both. Mostly I preoccupy myself with buying gifts for people I love, starting in October. I scour the sales advertisements every Sunday at Panera while I drink my coffee. Then I set out with a simple budget and spend all day carefully pawing through store after store with a smug attitude. My sister will love this, she won't be expecting it, I can't wait to give it to her. I like to buy unexpected gifts to make people feel special and good. There is this warm, self-serving satisfaction in spending months planning gifts for people who aren't expecting gifts.
This year my first gift recipient of choice was my Salvation Army Angel. An 11 year old from Nashville. I bought her a winter coat, an outfit, a comforter linen set, and a special Wizards of Waverly Place magic spell pillow. I was pleased. I got everything on her wish list. After that I started on my nieces and nephews, my hairdresser, friends, my stepmother, and the family I would be spending the actual holidays with.
It was glorious. It was invigorating. Apart from seeing people actually receiving my gifts, it was my favorite part of the holiday. And then for me, comes the worst part. The depression that follows all of that giving. And it is deep and sad.
For months the giving momentum builds and builds and I am gleeful in the process.
Then the day of giving is over and I am left with the next 10 months of loneliness. For those few months my mind is magically tricked into thinking that I am HAPPY. The message my brain is getting is powerful and tricky, it is fully engaged in that old adage that you get more from giving than receiving. And it is. 100%.
My depression starts with the impending New Year holiday. I HATE this holiday. People judge your whole year based on your New Years. So I suppose it is no surprise that if I am at home in bed (alone) than that is a pretty good indicator of how the rest of my year is going to go. Which is totally fine with me, I don't buy into the commercialism of New years, the whole must find someone to kiss at midnight, etc...
However, it is suddenly becoming a metaphor for the rest of my year and I don't like that.
This year quite a few people have pointed out to me that I am not married and I do not have children(shoot, I don't even have the POSSIBILITY of that). Some people just like to point it out to me (in case I didn't realize?), some people have even outright said If you aren't married by my age, there is a reason for that: NO ONE WANTS YOU.
Well that is bit harsh. I mean hurtful, I mean BRUTAL. MY GOD. REALLY? But this is how the holidays get me. I start to take into account my successes and failures of the year, and there it is inevitably staring me in the eyeballs: Nobody wants me. I dated all year, took risks by going out with people that I was willing to give a chance to. I got "out there" let people set me up, I even went on 2 dates in one night-I didn't blog about it because it was completely uneventful.
Maybe it is true. Not just about me, but anyone else who falls in my age bracket. There was some game of musical chairs for spouses, and I totally missed it. Like I didn't even know such a thing existed let alone when it was and when I was supposed to go.
But here is the cold, hard, ugly, holiday truth: For the rest of the year I will struggle with knowing I am totally fine, of sound mind, sometimes semi-attractive, a super communicator, an independent and strong woman, but for some reason it is just not enough to attract a worthy mate. I am shocked. Aghast. It never fails to startle me every time I think about it, which is mostly at night.
Occasionally I get the drunk middle of the night call from some past flame who thinks for those few drunk hours that maybe they missed the boat on me. Then they sober up. LOL. "OOOPs. Sorry-didn't mean it,I felt sorry for you and I knew you would answer your phone." Thanks.
I watched Eat, Pray, Love the other day. Part of our society that says if you go through a certain pattern of self-discovery all of the love in the world is waiting for you like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But it isn't the truth. I know more about myself than most people my age, shit, I have had A LOT of time to think about it. I know about life, death, love, work, fear, and every other emotion you are supposed to experience before you "become whole" and find your "soul mate". The only conclusion I can come to is that all that just isn't for me. Not because I don't want it, because I do. I know the Grinch's heart was 2 times too small. Mine is 2 times too big, it is just mostly empty. I feel like I must apologize for this holiday rant. I know YOU are special, you are basking in the light of your loved ones and all of your material goods you got for Christmas, and knowing that YOU are loved. Someone wants to hug you, kiss you, and tell you how much they love you. Enjoy it. As far as I am concerned you won the lottery that I never got a ticket to. Merry Christmas.

Goodbye and goodnight.

I was running on the treadmill tonight and i started to cry. It just sort of all hit me at once. I miss you. The "you" here is a collective "you". Is that odd? But it is true. I started thinking about 1 particular person I will miss because the nature of our relationship has changed. And that turned into the missing of another person who I wish was here to console me, which promptly turned into a 3rd person that I missed because they never lived up to what I had hoped they would be. Pheewww, that is exhausting. I miss them all for different reasons. I miss the ex-boyfriend because it is difficult to see into the future for the hope of being loved that way again. I miss my mother because she seems like a person who would reassure me that there will in fact be a future. And I miss/mourn other people who have consistently let me down, lied to me (and probably themselves), and generally behaved in a manner unbecoming of a human. I should probably insert a rainbow or puppy picture here. I am not a Debbie Downer all of the time, but sometimes the realization that I lack all of that love is...well...unspeakable and paralyzing.

Dreams Deferred

37 years old tomorrow and I have not yet accomplished my lifelong dream of traveling to Africa and volunteering my services. Africa has tugged at my heart since I was 16 when I wanted to give up school and help end Apartheid. It was the book Kaffir Boy that lit my fire and it has never faded. In 1989 this was an impractical idea for a naive white girl from the suburbs of Baltimore. My mother laughed at me, the same woman who hyphenated our last names because she believed taking someone else's last name was an outdated practice from slavery showing ownership. The last 20 years have been marked for me by great literature, as an English teacher and a reading addict sometimes it consumes me. The Power of One; Things Fall Apart; Cry, the Beloved Country; and the Poisonwood Bible have taunted me! It takes money to volunteer. And so on the eve of my 37th birthday I can't help but feel down in the dumps -my mind running back to these ideas-my mother died at 45 (I was 21), although illogical, I feel like I have an expiration date. I thought I would be married with children by now. Not the case! I don't suffer from any great social or physical deformities. But I have love I need to give and receive. My friends believe that I am the ultimate independent woman-and I am! And proud of it! The bottom line is this-I willingly gave up the majority of my twenties and some of my thirties because I wanted to believe that my siblings absolutely needed me. In hindsight, they did pretty well on their own. I believed I was sacrificing my own life to ensure the vitality of theirs. It was a great distraction from dealing with my own motherless daughter feelings. I don't want for much-I mean school loans will plague me forever-but they can never take my degrees away. But Africa, with its haunted past, beauty, and fight for independence still has a story to tell me. My dream is to fulfill this calling in my soul and maybe even put it into a book of my very own.