Feeling a Shift

I’m feeling a shift, internally, lately. I can’t say from what to what, I don’t know. But I’m having a hard time sleeping. And writing, which is weird for me. I have been so used to just writing…whatever was in my head. I’m concerned now, with only writing something that means something. The internal workings of the mind are fraught with things that may or may not be true. I’m trying to decipher mine.

It suddenly seems ridiculously self-serving to talk about my love life, or actually, lack of one. Whichever it happens to be at the moment. To talk about how I ran errands, how nice the weather is here. As if it’s even interesting.

I suppose that it helped me, through a huge transition in my life. But it’s one of those things that I’ve now finishsed with. I’d like to write more poetry, less essays. The poetry has to come from my heart though. At my age, I have plenty to draw on to write about. Accessing it….that’s a different story. Well, a lot of us write poetry, and I’m sure we all have our methods. I still have a page and a half of a fictional story I started, but I am still blocked on where it’s going.

I feel like I think Liz Gilbert did, when she posted on FB one day saying, “Why is writing so exhausting?” She went on to say how hard it is sometimes, so emotionally draining. Especially her first book. Right now I’m exhausted. Not really from writing, but from attempting to. It’s ridiculous when you HAVE to write, and find a stop sign down every road your mind takes. I suppose it will change.

So back to the shift…..I have to sit with it until it is complete I guess.

A friend called me last night (see here I go again, the minutiae of my life) but she reminded me we have a big fund-raiser for the Veterans Art Center, some kind of networking event, tomorrow night. I’m glad she remnded me, it’s nice to have something to look forward to. She also told me she has the free Silver Sneakers program so can go to the Y for free, and is excited to go with me. She said she signed up but never wanted to go alone. I’d like to drop another 10 lbs, so hopefully with that, I’ll be able to.

And my bestie from home is coming Friday evening. I just found out, from this blog, lol, that there’s a big block party at a bar called O’Maddy’s, down on the waterfront for St. Patrick’s Day. So we’ll have something fun to do when she gets here. It will probably give me a real lift to see her.

Well, gradual change I guess, is how shift happens. Life is good, especially when I can go take a nap in the middle of the day, lol.

Love and light, all.

Just Wondering

This morning for some reason, when I was making my coffee, I wondered if my ex ever thinks about the times he would rage, and break dishes, and throw food all over the floor, and walk away from it, leaving me crying, scared and having to clean up. I wonder if he remembers ever, when he broke our whole set of 12 Norman Rockwell plates, which we’d purchased at $40 each from Franklin Mint. I wonder if he thinks about what he put me through ever. Or if he just pretends it never happened. I wonder if he ever regrets making us drive hours to and from my son’s hockey games, the whole time verbally assaulting my son.

I’d like to think he does, and regrets all the things he did to me and my son. But, I don’t think so. Most people would feel so bad, once they realized how out of control they had become, and how much they’d hurt people that loved them, that they’d have to make at least an effort to apologize. He’s never apologized to me, except once. He had started a fight with me the day before I was scheduled to have labor induced for my son. Big fight, almost physical, yelling, stomping. I went to my sister-in-laws house for the night and she came with me to the hospital, not him. He finally showed up at the hospital after I’d been in labor all day because his sister shamed him into it. After my son was born by c-section in the middle of the night, he apologized. It was the only time in our 40 years together.

Even S repeatedly apologized for what he did to me. Of course, it didn’t change him, so the apology was only sincere in the moment. But at least there was a moment when he could see what he’d done. And of course, then he went on to spew lies about me to his girlfriend,and tell her intimate things about us, which was very painful for me. Having to listen to the lies come out of her mouth and having him back them up was heartbreaking. But he knew it was wrong. He knew he was doing it to make her secure.

I have forgiven them both for all of it. Their own behavior is something they have to live with. My heart, my psyche has healed from it all. It was all a good lesson for me. One drawback to growing up in a loving family is that you are unaware that there are people out there who would do those things. The reason they do them is because of a flaw they perceive in themselves, not in you. But a loving family of origin also gives you a base of love to fall back on, a way to find your own worth again, and allows you to move forward. I was blessed beyond words to have that.

It’s coincidental, (if you believe in coincidences) that when I came out on the deck this morning in the still dark, and opened my email, the first one I clicked on, by mistake (I actually wanted to open the email above this one), was an email from the Daily Om. It was a lesson from the book A Course In Miracles about forgiveness, and how it is really our only function.

I’m an Aries, and one of my traits is I cannot hold a grudge. For me to be angry for a week over something is really stretching it. Luckily, I am also aggressive and persistent, and know what’s good for me and what’s not. Although with both the men I’ve loved, I accepted the bad behavior for far too long, and kept them in my life far too long. Even if it was just on the periphery. I can still say I love them both, which is important for me, not to hate those I loved intensely. I feel sorry for my ex, because even if he doesn’t face it consciously, he lives a life that demonstrates the effects his behavior had on him, being broke and all alone, and having no relationship with his son. S—I don’t know what effect his behavior has had on him because we don’t talk.  He’s disappeared. But I feel for him anyway, because the games he plays over and over keep away the people who love him.

It’s been a weird morning, thinking about this stuff. Funny what bubbles up. Maybe it’s because I had a date last night with a man who doesn’t seem to be a game player, or manipulative, or controlling. But I can’t say for sure yet, I’ll have to get to know him better to know that. But I think maybe it’s the contrast between him and my old loves that brought this stuff around this morning.

Anyway, it promises to be an extraordinary day today. It was 63 when I came out on the deck before the sunrise. It’s going to get up in the 80’s. People are saying it’s unusual to be so warm in December. I’m more than happy about it. I might be able to wear shorts to the artwalk tonight.

Love and light, everyone.

Tumbling

  1. Crashing waves.gif

I rode the wave
Into the shore,
Thinking it might be fun
To let it have it’s way with me.
I tumbled as it broke
With a violent effort
It tried to break me.

Over and over
I tumbled
Tangled in the chaotic froth,
Lifted to the surface,
Driven down again
To scrape the bottom.

Just as I thought it would own me,
The wave receded
It left me on the shore,
Breathless and dizzy
Naked and scared
Sand-scuffed and bruised.

Laying face down
Hair matted with grit
I breathed and
I rose.
I stepped back from the edge
And watched.

The wave kept coming back
Washing up on shore
Trying to convince me
It had changed it’s ways
That the ride would now be gentle
And pleasant,
As it tried to grab my ankles
To pull me under its spell again
And toy with my life.

But the power was mine now.
I could dance on the edge
Or run from the madness
Of the breaking wave.

There will be other victims
Who think it might be fun
To roll with the wave.
Until they get sick of being left
Face down in the dirt.

The wave will retreat.
It may regroup
Come charging back into the shore
In a mad show of power.
I’ll be gone.
I’ll be gone.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Leaving

leaving

Asking for strength
To get through the next days.
Friends buoy me,
Mark my channel.
Keep me centered
Grounded,
In the flow.

Looking back at my life
Here
for so many years.
Easy to have regrets
But I balk at regrets.
Lessons, not regrets.
Things I needed to learn
To grow my soul.

In the end,
I have loved,
much more than
I have hated.
I have laughed
More than I’ve cried.
Joy has filled
What pain tried to take away.

So young when I came here
Just legal age.
I leave 44 years later
The largest part of my life behind me.
At least, of this life.
Time for change,
For the next great adventure.

Love and light.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images

Off, But Not Quite Running

Nice to be sitting in my family room, sipping on a cup of coffee again. Yes, I miss my kid, but I’m not devastated by it. At least, not most of the time. Because I know he made the very best choice possible to live the kind of life he wants. I know he’s happy.

We were talking about when we could see each other again. He was saying to come maybe at Christmas, or in January, because he already has so many people coming for Christmas. I said, “Um…I don’t think I want to come in the winter!” LOL. He said, “Oh well, I thought you might just miss snow since you won’t see it any more.” I laughed and said, “Oh maybe some day. But I’m not there yet….” He laughed. I said when he can put together a 3 or 4 day weekend after he’s done with his initial training, he can come see me. I want him to see my little house, and my new life. So we’ll see. If I miss him too much maybe I’ll brave the snow, lol. But fact is, I hope to be working before Christmas too. We’ll just have to see how it works out.

So much to do today. And every day until I leave next Thursday. I woke up in the middle of the night making lists again, Grrrr. Finally I read for awhile, and managed to get back to sleep for a few more hours. I hope I don’t keep doing that all week! Geezus.

My friend Susan who is driving with me to Florida and I talked last night. She said she’s happy to drive us to the Tappanzee Bridge in NYC, because she’s from New Jersey and has been that way so many times, as long as I can navigate us through the other side of the Hudson River. We’ll have GPS but it always wants to put you on I-95, and we definitely don’t want to go that way. That would take us through all the traffic of NYC, Philly, Baltimore, and DC. Um, no. lol. So I’ll see if I can get the GPS to take us another way. The friend who picked me up last night told me to get the app WAZE, and it will show all the routes, and updates in real time for traffic and speed traps!

I can’t believe I’m gonna get back in the car for 2 ½ days, in 6 days. Yikes. It will be fun with Susan. We’re trying to pick audible books to listen to. She was part of my book club.

Well, off and not quite running yet. But I will be, I have to be.

Love and light, all.

Life Without My Stuff

(I had such a hard time titling this post.  I kept wanting to call it Breaking My Life Into Pieces but thought that sounded too much like a sad love affair, and I’ve surely written enough of those, lol.  Athough the emotion is not dissimilar, strangely.  Big change comes hard, most times, whether it’s a love affair, your kid moving out, or you moving away.  There is always some degree of loss, and some degree of gain.)

The people who bought my deck furniture two weeks ago finally came back and got it last night. The wife is very excited to have it, which makes me feel good. But now, I can’t sit outside in the morning and write and have my coffee and listen to the birds and feel the cool morning air because there is no place to sit. I can’t even take a chair from my kitchen table out because I sold the kitchen table.

It feels like watching my life get broken into pieces and sold off, or given away. I was able to schedule the Salvation Army to come pick up my son’s couches on Sept 12. I’ll give them a bunch of other stuff that I have that’s in decent shape. I have to call a guy whose name a friend gave me, to take a bunch of stuff to the dump for me. I have a large collection of half burned candles I want to give away….Good Yankee candles for the most part. But I think I’ll have to throw them out.

I never thought I was attached to things. Really. My ex is attached to things, he can’t let go of anything even when it drags him under. I’m not attached like that, I can divest myself of what I don’t want to take with me, but it is harder than I expected to walk through my house without all the stuff that is normally there, just part of my life. I am a bit shaken by it.

I’ll be glad in a few weeks, when I can start putting it back in a place I want it, in Florida. When I can again have my house with my stuff, and feel like, yeah, it’s my house when I come through the door. Right now, even my bedroom is beginning to look strange to me. The nightstands almost cleared off, the closet with nothing in it except shoes, and my summer clothes. Drawers have been emptied out.

I’m making lists of what has to be done yet. Call the insurance co, call the utilities, call the cable company, call the garbage pick up. I wish honestly I’d quit working last Friday. I just have so much to do before I take off for Denver.

Which is another stressor altogether. I should be down about 10 lbs by the time this is over. I know my friend, my bff, is planning a goodbye party of some kind when I get back from Denver. She invited me to dinner the 9th. But I KNOW her. Besides her nephew said to me last time I saw him, “Well, we are having that party for you anyway, right?” LOL. Gave it away, lol. But I’m not telling her, I will fake it and be surprised. That will be nice, really, to see everyone one last time before I go.

I’m sure my blogs are getting kind of boring, just about the stress, and the angst, and things I have to do to accomplish this. Let me say it is WAY more stress than leaving my ex-husband was. For one thing, I was running full-tilt boogie from a life that was killing me, literally. I couldn’t wait to get out of the pressure-cooker of that house, away from him and his lying power trip. I couldn’t wait to live somewhere where I could wake up and everything was the same as when I went to bed. I didn’t take much with me, and I was going a mile and a half away.

This move…the life I have here is wonderful, and I don’t particularly want to leave it. I just want to stop working and I can’t, and live here. And I am sick to death of winter. It’s so difficult when you are on your own, and have to deal with all the snow, and cold and heating bills by yourself. I’m sick of driving to work and/or home in snow, shoveling my car off, getting snow in my shoes, when I leave work. But mostly sick of having to go to work anyway, lol.

My life….I’m just blessed. My son and I are happy sharing the same space while we both have our own lives. I have a ton of friends, so I’m not usually alone unless I choose to be. But I can’t keep this house if I don’t work, and I don’t want to work, so off I go to my mortgage free bungalow in Florida. It will all be good, but the transition is difficult, really difficult.

Time to get this day underway. Love and light, all.

Emotional Packing

 

packing

I’ve found I can only pack and sort things for about 2 or 3 hours a day. I just get too emotional. So attached to some things, which it would be stupid to take, but it’s so hard to let them go. One of them….well, I just stuffed it in a box. It was a huge teddy bear that was a Christmas gift to my son for his first Christmas. I just couldn’t let it go. It’s been sitting in the rocking chair in my room since forever, even before I left his father.

So many other things. I had emails between S and I that I’d printed out, I had pieces of writing from 20 years ago, I had memories, memories. So hard. I managed to throw most of that stuff out, but it made me melancholy, to be leaving everything I have known as an adult. I lay down on the chaise in my living room and cried for a few minutes. I laid down on my bed, and just closed my eyes to process all that has happened to me in the 40 years I’ve lived here.Everything that has brought me to this moment, of packing up my life of 40 years, and sorting out the things I want to take with me.  Lay there for about an hour.

My son asked me twice today what was wrong. I just said, “You know, it’s just big changes…so many big changes.” But I decided that I was done packing and sorting for the day. I changed my clothes, put on some makeup and went to the store to get laundry detergent and limes so I could have a drink when I got back, maybe read a book or something.

I got to the store, and as the universe does, I walked through the parking lot right into my bff who I am able to tell anything to, and told her how my morning was. She knows me, she gets it. She is always, has always been there for me. Even when I didn’t listen to her about S, she stuck with me while I figured it out. So we talked, it was the best thing that could have happened to me to run into her. She said she’d pick me up at the airport on the 8th when I get home. Awesome.

When I got home, instead of making the drink I was going to, I made a frozen peach strawberry daiquiri for my son and myself. It wasn’t bad, considering it was the first time I’ve made one in maybe 20 years, lol. Then I sat on the couch and began really mapping out our trip to Denver. We’re going to do somewhere around 500 miles a day, and then the last day only have about 350 to do. I got hotel phone numbers so we can call and make reservations.

Then I did the same for the trip to Florida which is a full day shorter.

Then a girl which whom he is close friends came over, had the last of the daiquiris and they decided they’d make me dinner. 🙂  Good kids.

I think I’m at the point I can stop obsessing about making sure everything is packed up for my mover’s date. I think I’m well ahead of the game now. When I stop working next weekend, I’ll have all week to get most of the house finished. I will leave the kitchen until I get back from Denver.

It gets more real every day. Most everyone I know I’ll see again. They’ll be down to see me, or I’ll be up to see them. There are some people I won’t see again though, and some I won’t get to say goodbye to. I guess I just have to do the best I can. The love I have for them will always be. I think they know that.

Love and light, all.