Remembering Stuff

The leaves are changing color.  The air is a lot chillier when I step outside to head to work in the mornings.  For the first time in a very long time, we didn’t make the mad rush to get ready for school before the start of the semester, and I feel like something is amiss.  And yet, I can still feel the pull of nostalgia  --  the leaves, the wind, a light drizzle, dark mornings, goose bumps, wood burning in a fireplace….

I find myself in a very strange place.  I’ve been on my own for three years now, yet I constantly feel as if I’m starting over.  I want to be there for my children, but when we spend time together, I’m reminded that they are now grown men, men who have deep voices and shave and can go into bars….when the hell did that happen?  I know I put a lot of my own life on hold so I could make sure they made it to this point, and I’m trying to reclaim that part again.  I realized a few days ago that I’m experiencing the effects of arrested development  --  I find myself trying to pick up where I left off at the age of 23, and I don’t think that’s working out quite like I expected.  But on the other hand, I have a LOT more time to devote to myself and my interests, without having to rush off to marching band performances or pay for trips to Hawaii.  And it’s not that I have any regrets about the time and money spent on my boys – I wouldn’t change any of it!  I mean, come on….they went to Hawaii!  I’ve never even been to California.

I’m trying to change my mindset.  I don’t need to take care of anyone anymore, not even a spouse.  That gives a lot more time to turn my attention towards ME.  I feel slightly selfish for it, too.  And terrified.  My inner dialogue becomes something like this:

“Hm.  Ok, where did I leave off?  Man, I was in great shape when I was younger  --  let’s see…..OH MY GOD!!!  WHAT IS THAT???”

Yeah, it’s not pretty.  I do have a little bit of an excuse there – the ex would lose his mind if I tried to lose weight or get into shape.  He was convinced that the only reason I wanted to get into shape was to find someone new so I could leave him.  In addition to not being able to lose any weight, I ended up gaining a total of fifty pounds because of that.  And since I’m older now, it’s a lot more difficult to get all that goo off of me.

It’s not just the physical stuff, though.  I didn’t realize how off-kilter my mental state had become.  Every day, it becomes clearer to me.  Oh, yes, I am working to fix that, too.  For a while I was concerned that occupying myself with dance and music was just a way to escape who I am, but I’ve come to realize that those things ARE who I am.  The fat, depressed basket-case is still lurking somewhere just around the corner, but she’s getting further and further away.

I suspect my renewed sense of nostalgia comes from remembering my old self.  It’s actually a good thing to be able to feel that part of myself again.  It was gone for a long time.  I couldn’t find any real joy in the changing of the seasons and I’m very grateful to have this feeling again.  A part of the healing process?  I believe it is.

This Looks Like A Nice Rock to Hide Under

Confidence.  That’s supposed to be my number one problem right now – I don’t have any.  Sure, that can be a problem, but it could also be a good thing, I think.  Without confidence, there’s no massive ego.  Without confidence, I don’t run the risk of making a fool of myself.  Without confidence, I’ll never try to take credit for something I didn’t do.  Hell, most of the time, I don’t take credit for what I DID do, unless it was something I did wrong, in which case I have no problem taking credit for it.

Ok, so most of that was sarcasm.  Yes, I know having no confidence is a serious problem.  I can express an opinion or offer ideas when I get caught up in the moment, but if it comes to saying or doing something on my own, I pretty well suck at it.  I can fake it fairly well – I still remember how to dress nice enough to not embarrass people in public, and I do wear make-up so as not to scare small children.  But that’s about it.

The biggest crime that has come with losing my confidence is I’ve also lost my passion.  Nothing really drives me.  I question everything I try to do, and while I may feel that initial thrill at stepping out and trying to do something that once excited me, after just the briefest amount of time, I start questioning – is this really what I want?  How stupid do I look doing this?  Have I become an embarrassment to those around me?  Then I start thinking how bad I am, and how everyone around me must hate me for making them look bad, too.  I withdraw, isolating myself, convinced the whole thing was a bad idea in the first place.

I hate that.

I would like to gain some confidence in myself again, but I’m not really sure how to go about it.  When I was a kid, I pretty much didn’t care what people thought of me, so it was no problem.  No point in going into why I have no confidence now, but I do wonder if this is normal and I’m just world-weary, or if I should try to rebuild my self-confidence.  I don’t particularly relish the idea of spending the rest of my life standing on the sidelines, watching everyone else follow their dreams.  How does one regain confidence?  Is it even possible?  Does it even matter?

My Opinion

When I was growing up and going to school, we were taught that the USA was the bestest and most wonderfulest country in the world.  With enough hard work and dedication, you could do or be anything you wanted.  Absolutely, I believed it.  We were taught we had the best opportunities, the best schools, the homes, the best cars and we should always be proud of how great it is to live here.  Always.

My childhood was a bit of a struggle, but I had faith.  I truly believed that if I worked hard enough, I’d get everything I ever wanted and be happy.  After all, Abraham Lincoln grew up in a log cabin, and look what he did!  So I did well in school, and even though I didn’t finish college, I worked hard at my job and did the best I could – which, it turned out, didn’t matter because of the sexist attitude of management – but that was ok, because I knew I could get a better job and still have that great life! 

Ok, yes, I did end up dropping that dream of becoming an actress.  I was told by several teachers and competition judges that I did have talent, but somehow I just never managed to get to anyplace where I might actually get paid for that talent.  But it was ok.  I met a wonderful man, got married and started to settle down.

A mere handful of days after my first son was born, I watched the beginning of the Gulf War as it unfolded on TV.  I was shaken to my core.  Talk of reinstating the draft had been tossed about then, and for the first time in my adult life, I honestly feared what the government could do to our family.  Up until that point, I firmly believed in our rights as citizens, but it never occurred to me what it might be like to be forced into doing something I didn’t believe in.

My marriage didn’t last.  For a while, I found out what fun it was being a single parent with two young boys to raise on my own.  I worked, but I couldn’t afford daycare – but I also made too much money to get any sort of assistance for daycare.  I was very fortunate to have an incredibly patient and understanding boss who would let me bring my youngest to work with me any time I couldn’t get someone to watch him.  I kept plugging along, working diligently, just knowing in my heart of hearts, one day I would make it.

When I was laid off, I took the opportunity to go to school and learn a new trade.  I did very well, became certified in AutoCAD drafting, got a job, and absolutely hated it.  I stumbled a bit.  I didn’t know what to do at that point.  My dream was starting to become a lot foggier.

I tried to work things out with the boys’ father.  We decided it was in the boys’ best interest to work together and give them a good life, even if our dreams had been set back a bit.  But even then, there were good things to look forward to – we decided to have a house built, a beautiful home where I could pick my own carpet and finishing touches.  We started looking in September, 2001.

Please understand, I still love living here.  I know there are plenty of other places in this world where I would be dead by now for what I believe and even for expressing myself like I do.  I still like to believe there are opportunities for people, just not people like me.  You see, I’ve lost a lot of faith in all the crap I was told when I was a kid.  I find it hard to believe the rest of the world loves us as much as I was told back then.  And I’ve seen some of the most horrible things happen to this country and it’s people since September, 2001.

Me personally, I lost that innocence that said, yes, we are the greatest.  I think a lot of people did.  Some of them were able to pick up the pieces and recognize that we, as a nation, need to start working together with the rest of the world instead of being arrogant and acting like we should be the world police, or whatever it is we thought we were.  But then there are these other people who seem to think we can just shove everything back together and make ourselves out to be that great, arrogant nation and the rest of the world be damned.  Who cares about rights and constitutions and tolerance and peace?  More patriotism!  More churches!  More prisons!

Sigh….

Change is scary.  Especially when that change involves everything you’ve ever believed about your home.  I know I’ve been trying to create some semblance of normalcy for myself for a very long time now.  I’ve come to accept that it just doesn’t exist, at least not in the way I had always been told.  Some people will never be able to accept it, and so I believe we will have this division within our country for many, many years.  For those that are hoping to rebuild our nation in a new light, it will be an uphill battle, but I believe it’s absolutely necessary for our survival.

The world is a much smaller place now.  We really should learn how to get along with our neighbors.

What if We're Praying to the Wrong God?

I was taught that Deity (Gods, Goddesses, The Powers That Be, whatever you believe in) will give you only what you can handle or what you need. It almost sounds as if offering prayers or asking for anything is a waste of time, yet – as we state in our rituals – we offer our prayers.

But what if you pray to your Deity and whatever it is that you're requesting goes incredibly wrong? You do your ritual, make your offerings, implore your God or Goddess to help maybe move the energies about a bit to facilitate whatever it is you're needing, then go about your business – everything we're taught from day one about spellwork. Then things start moving just as you had requested. Looks like your spell is in motion! Hooray!

And then.....it all goes insanely crazy wrong. You get the money you need to cover your bills, but as soon as you pay them, a huge emergency pops up and you have no way to take care of it. You receive the job offer you were hoping for, but the terms have changed and you'll be making a lot less than you were before. You finally meet a seemingly wonderful person, but as time goes by, you realize this person is absolute the worst possible human being on the face of the planet – and they are never going to leave you alone.

What the hell????

Well, it occurred to me – what if we're offering our prayers to the wrong Deity? I'm not saying we should all drop Paganism and start practicing Christianity, because I've seen plenty of Christians that have identical problems. But here's the thing.....just about everyone I know chooses who they offer prayers to. Every once in a while, I do hear about someone chosen by their Deity, but that doesn't seem to happen too often. So....what if we've been choosing the wrong God? And when we pray to the wrong God, what if we just piss them off and they think it's funny to mess with us? You know, let us think everything is gonna be groovy, then yank the rug out from under us right when everything is good.

Just a thought.....

It's Not All My Fault

I wish it hadn’t taken so long for me to realize this, but everything that has gone wrong in my life is not entirely my fault.  Every failed relationship, every lost opportunity – it’s not necessarily all because of things I’ve done.

I’m not saying my life has been nothing but a bunch of failures.  There’s a lot that I’m quite proud of -  my boys, my various bands, my dance troupes, my amazing, strong, talented friends and family  -  but like any normal person, there have been disappointments, too.  I have taken each and every one of them very personally.  Especially those failed relationships.

I know everyone in the world probably sits there and wracks their brain, trying to understand why a relationship went wrong.  I’ve spent hours replaying conversations in my head, trying to figure out if it was what I said or didn’t say, or maybe the way I looked or the way I responded.  I’ve made myself crazy trying to decipher at what exact point did I screw everything up.  And it never occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all my fault.

I don’t know why I never thought of that before.  I’ve always just automatically assumed I was the one the screwed everything up.  Well, ok, there was one guy in Texas who was certifiably mentally unstable who smashed a mirror with his hand, then held a knife to his chest, telling me I should just shove it into his heart.  Yeah, I ran like hell from that one!  Pretty sure that wasn’t all me!

So except for the one in Texas, I’ve just always thought I was the one that failed to make a relationship work.  I was the one who couldn’t be flexible or understanding enough or giving enough…..never the other way around.  And of course, there are always plenty of people to tell me, yes, it’s all my fault.  Well, I don’t think that’s the case.  I think the only thing I’ve been guilty of is wanting so badly to be loved and be a part of a couple that I was willing to look past anything bad and just try to make it work.

Ok, maybe I wasn’t the best partner in my relationships, but there was always another person, not just me.  Take the father of my boys.  He’s a great guy, and I think the world of him, but we had no business getting together, let alone getting married!  He’s a small town boy, rather reclusive, low-key  --  in other words, my exact opposite.  But he had a stability I craved, and that was something I wanted for any family I might have.  I can only guess at what he saw in me, but I do know he thought I would change after we got married.  He thought we would move back to a small town and I’d give up the music and the social life.  Sigh. 

Of course, looking back, we can both see the flaws in our grand plans.  He really should have settled down with someone a little less social than myself, and I should have just gone on the road with Queensryche  --  but on the other hand, we wouldn’t have our boys if we hadn’t gotten together.  Anyway, the point is, I wasn’t the only one that made a mistake there.  We both had unrealistic expectations  - - I wasn’t the only one that messed up.

I wish I could have understood that years ago.  And I also wish I knew why I thought it was all my fault for so long.  That’s a lot of pain and guilt to carry around for such a long time.

It's Official....

I don’t know shit about relationships. 

For years, I thought I was pretty sharp about love and relationships and what it took to keep one going.  After all, I had been in a relationship of one sort or another since I was in high school.  But therein lies the problem – I never managed to maintain the same relationship for more than a few years.  I would date a guy, live with a guy, even married a couple, but it would all blow up in my face and I’d either dump him or he’d dump me and I’d me single again – for a couple of months, anyway.  I was never single for more than six months, and my life went that way for over twenty five years.  Until now.

Oh, sure, I’ve dated a few guys, but nothing’s been serious.  Not what you would call a solid relationship.  There were a couple that I thought had become relationships, because, you know, we talked about it and decided that’s what we wanted.  Silly me.  Why on earth should I actually accept someone’s words? 

So here I am, nearly three years single.  I’ve learned a lot, and one of the biggest things I’ve learned is that I don’t actually know anything.  My apologies to those of you younger than myself, but I’m afraid it doesn’t get any easier.  And at this point, I’m even wondering if it’s worth the effort anymore.

Some Ramblings on Being Stuck

I’m not really sure what to write about today – I just feel like I need to write.  There was something about emotional expression that’s been rolling around in my head, but I’m not sure how appropriate it would be to make comments about my own responses.

Sometimes, I feel I know someone, then I read something they wrote, usually from a couple of years ago.  Very often there’s a great deal of anger in what I read.  There is a lot of anger and frustration in this world, a lot that folks tend to keep hidden and never express except in the occasional angry bit of writing.  I can understand that.  We do feel the need to keep a bit of peace in our world, despite it all.  But so much of the frustration I see comes from missed opportunities and failing to move forward with a dream or a goal.  So much of the anger is misplaced blame – it’s always someone else’s fault that life has become unbearable. 

Oh, don’t worry.  I hated my life for quite a while.  Then I realized I could change it.  I quit letting other people push me into crap I didn’t want to do and I let a lot of negative people go.  My life is still far from perfect, but I’m getting a handle on it.  Took me long enough, right?

I’ve also come to realize some people just aren’t happy unless they can bitch about how awful their life is and how everyone is out to get them.  Because, you know, otherwise they would have to take responsibility for their actions, and we just can’t have that. 

I certainly don’t think I’m some kind of saint or whatever.  I’m just another person trying to get by and find my little bit of happiness.  I’ve learned some about what it takes to make me happy.  It’s stuff that works for me, but I’m always willing to share what I’ve got – maybe someone else can get something from it, too:

If you take a chance on something, what is the worst that could happen?

Could you live with that?

If you don’t take the chance, could you live with that?  

Is this something YOU want or is this something someone else THINKS you should want? (that’s always been a toughie for me!)

It’s your life – no one else is gonna live it for you.  If you want to be angry, be angry.  Eventually, you really ought to move past it, though.  It’s no fun being stuck.