Rambling

So much happened this week that my mind is overrun with ideas and things that I need to get out of me. It's still hard for me to do this because I am scared of who may be reading and what people may think. But you know...that kind of fear keeps you from doing things that you are meant to do and from finding what GOD has set aside for you.

At one point I tried writing fiction - stories, poems, etc. - because it was a way to write, be creative, and be me behind the curtain of a character. And I actually enjoyed it and the stories were half way descent. (Is that an adjective or did I just use the word for going lower...homonyms maybe...oh well I warned you about grammar and spelling). Anyway I could possibly continue to write fiction, but I find more satisfaction with working through my life on a page. The problem is that other people are involved so I find myself being...general…when sometimes I really need to process specifically.

I recently read Peace from Broken Pieces by Iyanla Vanzant, which is weird for me because I don't do self help and I back away from all things Oprah and/or Oprah related (Another entry but don't worry I respect her...yada yada yada) Anyway Iyanla really bared her soul and exposed herself in a way that made me relate to her. I had heard her story before but this was different...it was truly humble and it was an examination of how she got to where she is rather than "let me tell you how I pulled myself up from nothing." I've heard that story a million times. Same reaction...great story but it seems so out there and so removed from my truth. The story she told about herself...of feeling unworthy and 'less than' and constantly trying to prove herself, and of generational issues, was one I could understand and link to themes in my own life. It was regular woman stuff...not "I have crazy money now let me guide you po’ folk" stuff.

I say all that to say that I want to be able to process me without worrying about the fall out. I want to tell my story without making the participants uncomfortable...which is damn near impossible. I'm not trying to teach or preach or guide - although it would be majorly cool if someone got something out of this and ended up staying a virgin longer or having good credit based on me sharing some of my nonsense. People...trust that I have much nonsense to share!

Anyway as I was saying, this week was high on the Karma meter for me. Apparently this was my pay week in the circle of life and I don't mean that I got paid.  Work was hell, my kid was testing my Clare Huxtable School of Parenting skills, and my personal life - read "love" life - was well...let's just say that Venus was not in the Scorpio house of love and relationships. LMAO. All I want is a drink and a pan of Bread Pudding with that yummy creamy sauce. (I think a nice Port would go well with Bread Pudding) I want to watch Love Jones and You've Got Mail and The Age of Innocence on my couch in some sweats and a head-wrap. I want my mom to make me some curry chicken.

Sidebar: My mom's curry chicken is the BOMB! She may not know how to hug and talk things through and do TV mom shit, but she will sure feed my blues away and damn it, I'll take it!

I just want this week to end already. As always I am thankful for my MANY blessings but this week it was hard to remember them, and I hate when I am like that. It serves no purpose to wallow but I am sooooo good at it. Oh well - 2 hours to midnight and then on to a new week. I think I will settle for a cup of tea and leave the Port for another night. You know the deal...I will be here...even if no one reads...talking in any case.

Quiet Time

So the hardest thing about being separated is the quiet. Yesterday just sucked. Work was overwhelming and the politics were too much to deal with. All I wanted was a glass of wine, someone to listen to me vent...that knew all the background, and a pair of strong arms to hold me. Those are the things you forget in the heat of the battle. You forget the little things about the life you built with someone. And once you have been used to that for as long as I had it...the days like yesterday knock you down.

I spoke to a girlfriend of mine who has been without a partner for a while and who has always lived alone. She told me that even when you have never had those arms on a full time basis...you still miss them. Well I wouldn't know her pain and I am not begrudging her, but I KNOW what I am missing and it effin' sucks.

The weeks that my daughter is with her father are my test weeks. That's when I meet me and figure out if I would even be friends with such a person. That is when I can't use the kid excuse to define my entire life and all my activities. Don't get me wrong it is not a break from parenting because that never turns off, but it is a time when you find out what you would fill your life with if you happen to have 5 extra minutes. Is it work? Is it writing, or music, or working out? My interests were "our" interests for so long. There was always noise and "stuff." And all of a sudden the quiet of my life was deafening.

That first week with out her I cried constantly. The next few weeks I filled with phone calls and visits to girlfriends because being alone meant tears and screaming fits and eating everything I could find. I worked late into the night so I wouldn't have to come home to the quiet. But when you don't do what you love...that doesn't last for long. I drank way too much wine and watched TV to escape my head. Anything to create noise and fill space.

I am not used to being alone. I lived alone for about 18 months after college before moving in with my future husband. And even before that...my relationships ran one right into the next. No rest stops, no vacancies. I have been with someone since I was 14. That's 24 years of shared interests and space and time. My adult life was mostly spent with my husband. I was defined by our relationship. I am that sort of woman. I don't mean that I lose myself...I mean that I am a relationship girl. I was built and designed for that. That is where I thrive. So this new phase...this new life is so... foreign. The prospect that once my daughter is like 13 - and I am only her chauffeur and bank book (she'll realize my worth again when she's around 30 so I'm good) that I may actually have to live with ME defining me is scary as hell. My Hell has spiders so that's pretty damned scary.

Gradually though, I have started to find my place in the quiet times. I looked up one day and recognized the damage I was doing to myself  by escaping and indulging. (24 extra lbs in a year helps you recognize that fairly easily) And I realized...shit I used to be a lot more interesting than the tragic girl I see in the mirror. I am rediscovering what I used to like that didn't need a support group or a second opinion. I am less apt to fill space now and I am  very grateful for some quiet time with nothing to do.

Still though - days like yesterday suck. They really effin' suck. Last night I longed for noise...any noise that would help put the day behind me. I looked at the wine bottle. I looked at the fridge. I looked at the phone. I decided on...ZUMBA! Yes Zumba. But that is yet another entry. Thanks for reading. Hope you'll  keep reading. I'll keep talking in any case.

Talking in Circles

Tonight I had a lesson in miscommunication. The thing about all of these ways to reach people is that you cut down on the talking. Yes - writing gives you a platform, a way to express things that you may not feel comfortable saying aloud. But you lose something. You lose tone and nuance and flavor. You lose the look in someones eyes that reveals truth or treachery.

I used to rail against my ex-husband (oh god that is hard to say but that is another entry) anyway...I used rail against his use of text messaging to argue. I fought it and fought it, but eventually I gave in and began to engage him in it. It was around the time of our demise. I found that text messaging allowed the fight to continue long past the expiration date. No one ever got the last word. We never had to stop because we would be late for work or to drop our child off. We could just continue via text. And it was easier and more potent than email because it was an immediate exchange. After those dark days you would think I would learn. But then there came...BBM.

BlackBerry provided a new and exciting way to communicate without waiting and without trace unless you stupidly decide to email your chats to yourself as I have...so you can reread a love note or relive a heated argument. NOTE: Never keep anything...commit it to memory and press delete. TRUST ME...yet another entry.

Tonight I mistook a loved one's concern for my heart as a dismissal. They wanted only to remove me from drama and I took it as a sign that they wanted me gone for other reasons. Thank GOD we cleared it up after some time, but in the moments that I believed the worst...I couldn't breathe. I should know better. I have studied enough mediation techniques to know that I should ask clarifying questions. But when your blood is boiling and your heart in involved...who the hell remembers that.

Anyway - it was a close call. But it made me come back to write after a month and a half. That and a million other reasons. I won't apologize for being gone so long. I can't. It's my thing you know...I start and stop.I hardly ever finish. I reread and then delete. I have a million and a half entries in various places at home or at work. But hey...it's for me so no apologies here. Do what you want with it. I'll keep talking in any case.

'Night people.