Maybe I will try writing around here again.
Maybe I will try giving the zero fucks that are required to do such a thing.
It's exhausting trying to find the place that fits. The place where I can be myself. The place where I can write with some sort of abandon. It feels like I am lost. Well, not me, but the me that exists inside my head. She used to always have a place to live, but for the last 10 years or so has just been drifting without a home.
On the outside, life goes on as usual. You'd never know to look at my life that there is this other thing going on internally. I mean, some of you would know, because you actually know me, but mostly not.
So... let's just get down to things and see how this goes, shall we?
I'll start with things I am obsessed with and whatnot.
Wait. This is not fucking working.
There are two people who love me.
Now that feels like a start. I know it's a start because I felt like I could be writing for a while and was suddenly in a panic when I realized I have a cake in the oven and that I would have an interruption. Let me tend to the cake.
Okay. So, there are two people who love me. There has been a lot of uncertainty in my life, but about that there can be none. Those two people are my son and my husband. Different kinds of love, but both total and unwavering. Previously in life, I've gone forward knowing that "I am a rock. I am an island." I accepted various forms of help from people and participated in relationships of dubious merit. I hoped on some level to be accepted or at least understood but didn't count on it happening, didn't need it in order to function, and of course, didn't desire it from those whose opinions I don't respect on at least some level. So, my relation to the rest of the world has always been one where I deal with it as needed yet realize that I am really the only person who is looking out for me in any real way.
That probably sounds incredibly selfish. Or self-centered. Except it's not. It's actually more about self-reliance. It's following my own heart and mind, which often leads me to very selfless places where there is empathy and compassion and where I am able to give of myself freely. Never mind that giving of myself freely seems to be the place most often where predatory taker types lurk and suck the fucking life out of me. Lessons learned. I still always end up in that place somehow. Despite the fact that I just really do not trust people, I am hopeful and *want* to trust people. I want people to be trustworthy, I guess is more like it.
Well, so much for the good start. Now I am blocked because I want to say something but am trying to figure out ways to encode it so that I do not come across as cold and mean. Ah, but that is part of me as well. Perhaps if I'd always stuck with the cold, mechanical, logical instincts and given the firm "No" and "Not just no, but hell no" then I wouldn't have had to deal with so much arbitrary, wasteful bullshit in life.
I will be nice today and not speak of it. But it's coming. It's enough for me to take notice of it and let it go today. Like meditation. I see you there, little thought. I release you. You'll be back, but for now, other things...
So, this love thing. It used to be me that kept me grounded. But now it is the love from and for those two people. That is the kernel through which I receive all my instructions. This is not the sort of "I love you" that people toss around casually at every falling leaf or blowing wind like the useless bark of a chihuahua. This is not that sort of love that people profess for each other even as they can't really stand each other and will, at every opportunity, screw each other over. This is not dysfunction. This is a deep, meaningful love that is ever thoughtful. This is serious shit.
At any rate, when I feel I'm discontent or unhappy, all I really have to do is bring these two people to mind. Not because they bring me so much joy or are a bright spot in my day that snaps me out of my sadness. It's nothing as superficial as that like kittens or rainbows. Rather, when I think about the reason I am feeling discontent and I focus on the two people who love me, I realize that I'm discontent about something the outside world is telling me. Not something I am really concerned about myself and not something that one of them thinks or believes. When I am unhappy, it is because of outside interference.
And I'm done with that shit. And I should have been done a long time ago. But I try to be nice. I try to be tolerant. I try to put myself aside and avoid conflict as much as I can. I try to reason with imbeciles and give up when it proves impossible. I try to think of the greater good, which is seldom ever greater. Or good.
The two people who love me are capable of reason. Capable of having conversations and arguments involving a well-rounded and even-keeled assortment of things like logic, intellect, facts, observation and emotion. They are capable of weighing matters and thinking deeply. Recognizing feelings, naming them and putting them in the proper perspective. Admitting that they don't know everything but never ceasing in the desire to know more. These two people understand me and don't want to change me. These two people do not disapprove. These two people are not nasty, hateful and judgmental. These two people do not think I am alien. These two people are genuine with me. I know them. They know me. These are the relationships that matter.
And this is my life. And this is my family. And I'm going to talk about it.
A picture for the day:
In my family, you take the back roads. And when you see a camel at the side of the road, you stop and talk and see if he or she wants a little grass. You don't just keep driving.