I've never been the best sleeper but the last year has made sleep even more difficult to come by. I go through periods of insomnia that last a week or more and the frequency of those periods vary. This week is one of those weeks, though.
I lay down at night exhausted but once everything is quiet, my mind starts racing. I just can't get my mind to go blank....or at least focus on pleasant enough things to make me sleepy. I have so much on my mind...so many things I'm trying to figure out in my life and so much of my life up in the air. It's hard not to incessantly worry. Anyway, I end up reading or playing solitaire or flipping channels....and wondering if I'm the only one struggling with sleep. I gotta believe there's a whole contingency of other insomniacs doing the same thing as me.
My cats aren't at all sympathetic either. They don't like my insomnia. They get fed up with the lack of quiet and/or darkness and go find somewhere else to sleep. I find myself calling them traitors as they flick their tails on the way out of the room....
I've tried all of kinds of sleep remedies. They rarely work. Apparently they're no match for my neurotic mind.
I think I got 4 hours last night. In fact, I think I've averaged 4 hours of sleep a night all week. I miss sleeping normally.
Maybe tonight?
Insomnia. Ugh.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Who Knows Where the Time Goes
Long post....fair warning. You may want to grab some popcorn....
Several times in recent months, a cousin of mine has posed the question, "if you could give advice to your 17 year old self, what advice would you give?" It's the kind of question that I normally have a funny answer for in the moment it's asked but later on in the night, when I'm alone in bed and left only with my thoughts, I truly wonder what I would tell myself. Twenty-one years have passed since I was 17 and I am nowhere near where I thought I'd be. I imagined many things for myself at that age and I can't imagine that 17 year old me would be willing to listen to anything 38 year old me might have to say. And yet the question stays with me. What would I tell myself? What advice would I give?
I think I would tell myself first and foremost to start believing more in myself. To stop doubting any number of things and start figuring out how to make peace with the fact that I am who I am and who I am isn't bad. I think I would tell myself not to worry as much about what other people think. I say this with the understanding that the ability to set aside this kind of worry generally comes with age or through great tribulation and oftentimes with both. But I quietly and incessantly worried about what other people thought. I hated feeling disliked or judged. A lot of that has ended as I've gotten older but I wish my younger self could have understood what I understand now - that we're all fallible, mortal human beings and that there is no requirement for others to like us nor is there a requirement for us to like certain other people. There will be people you will like, love, be flat out crazy about and there will be people you just don't click with. This is life.
This leads me to my next thought. There is a quote by Maya Angelou that I keep with me now - "when people show you who they are, believe them the first time". I think young females have a difficult time understanding the meaning of this. They have a hard time with the concept that there are some people in this world who don't have your best interests at heart. Sometimes those people will be complete strangers. Other times they will be people you thought you could trust. Regardless of who they are, when they show exactly who they are, you should believe them. This isn't to say that forgiveness or second chances aren't possible, but it does require you to be realistic when dealing with these people. I wish I had understood this so much earlier in my life. It would have saved me a lot of heartache.
Which leads me to....people are who they are. You can't change other people. People only change when they alone want to. Again, we're fallible mortals which means we all have emotional limitations in certain areas of our lives. Understanding and accepting that keeps you from needlessly banging your head against a pointless wall of wishing. There are battles worth fighting in life, but trying to make someone into who you want them to be isn't one of those battles.
I would also tell myself that having my heart broken is inevitable. And that it will be broken more than once and in more than one way. Some heartbreaks will be absolutely devastating....others will be painful but easier to take. And no matter how much pain I'm in, I'll survive it. I would warn myself that there will be times when I think I can't possibly go on, but I will. There will be times when I'll be convinced that nothing good will ever happen again....but it will. Life is an ebb and flow. Both good and bad times come and go. Eventually the bad times will pass and when they do, you will amazingly find that you're still standing. So don't be surprised at how strong you are.
Learn to ask for help when you need it. The people who love you and care about you won't view it as an imposition. To be fair, I'm still working on this one....
I would recommend taking more chances and being less cautious. I've lived my life as the good girl overall. I've tried to make careful, deliberate decisions. I've tried to make good choices. I've tried to do the right things for the right reasons. Most of the time, this has been a good thing. There will be times, however, when it will be wiser to throw caution to the wind and take some risks. I will know those times when they arrive and I shouldn't question them when I see them. I should just jump in with both feet and enjoy the ride.
Cut out the sodas, take the right vitamins and stay out of the sun. Never go to sleep with make-up on. In fact, go ahead and adopt that skin care regimen you're thinking about. The earlier, the better. Your skin will thank you as you approach 40. Seriously, it pays off - I promise.
It's perfectly normal to be obsessed with cute shoes. And cute handbags. A cute pair of shoes can turn the most rotten day on the planet into a simply delightful afternoon. Don't even get me started on what cute handbags and purses can do.
Start considering museum work while you're working on your bachelor's. I wish I would have. Museums are awesome - just as interesting to work in as it is to visit them.
Dr. Who is cool. You'll find this out eventually. This will happen around the time it occurs to you that you enjoy sci-fi as much as you enjoy history. Don't bother questioning the dichotomy of this. It's all good.
Yes, green beans are gross. Don't doubt this or feel guilt about not liking them. And don't give into peer pressure to eat them. Just say no and walk away.
Trends to stay away from: low-rise jeans (I really shouldn't have to explain this one), reality t.v. (I'm not sure why I'm mentioning this - you're smart enough to avoid it once it starts), George W. Bush (ok, he'll never be a trend, but you should be warned about his administration anyway. Yes, we'll survive. Barely.), boy bands (especially one called the Backstreet Boys - they're big throughout the 1990's - trust me when I say grunge is better), pashmina shawls (yes, they're pretty but really....what do you do with them?) and dessert trends like cupcakes and crepes - all desserts are equally good and should never be discriminated against. There are more but I'm running out of room....
Finally, don't lose your sense of humor. There will be times when it will be one of the things that carries you through the difficult times. In other words, keep watching Monty Python. After all, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.
Several times in recent months, a cousin of mine has posed the question, "if you could give advice to your 17 year old self, what advice would you give?" It's the kind of question that I normally have a funny answer for in the moment it's asked but later on in the night, when I'm alone in bed and left only with my thoughts, I truly wonder what I would tell myself. Twenty-one years have passed since I was 17 and I am nowhere near where I thought I'd be. I imagined many things for myself at that age and I can't imagine that 17 year old me would be willing to listen to anything 38 year old me might have to say. And yet the question stays with me. What would I tell myself? What advice would I give?
I think I would tell myself first and foremost to start believing more in myself. To stop doubting any number of things and start figuring out how to make peace with the fact that I am who I am and who I am isn't bad. I think I would tell myself not to worry as much about what other people think. I say this with the understanding that the ability to set aside this kind of worry generally comes with age or through great tribulation and oftentimes with both. But I quietly and incessantly worried about what other people thought. I hated feeling disliked or judged. A lot of that has ended as I've gotten older but I wish my younger self could have understood what I understand now - that we're all fallible, mortal human beings and that there is no requirement for others to like us nor is there a requirement for us to like certain other people. There will be people you will like, love, be flat out crazy about and there will be people you just don't click with. This is life.
This leads me to my next thought. There is a quote by Maya Angelou that I keep with me now - "when people show you who they are, believe them the first time". I think young females have a difficult time understanding the meaning of this. They have a hard time with the concept that there are some people in this world who don't have your best interests at heart. Sometimes those people will be complete strangers. Other times they will be people you thought you could trust. Regardless of who they are, when they show exactly who they are, you should believe them. This isn't to say that forgiveness or second chances aren't possible, but it does require you to be realistic when dealing with these people. I wish I had understood this so much earlier in my life. It would have saved me a lot of heartache.
Which leads me to....people are who they are. You can't change other people. People only change when they alone want to. Again, we're fallible mortals which means we all have emotional limitations in certain areas of our lives. Understanding and accepting that keeps you from needlessly banging your head against a pointless wall of wishing. There are battles worth fighting in life, but trying to make someone into who you want them to be isn't one of those battles.
I would also tell myself that having my heart broken is inevitable. And that it will be broken more than once and in more than one way. Some heartbreaks will be absolutely devastating....others will be painful but easier to take. And no matter how much pain I'm in, I'll survive it. I would warn myself that there will be times when I think I can't possibly go on, but I will. There will be times when I'll be convinced that nothing good will ever happen again....but it will. Life is an ebb and flow. Both good and bad times come and go. Eventually the bad times will pass and when they do, you will amazingly find that you're still standing. So don't be surprised at how strong you are.
Learn to ask for help when you need it. The people who love you and care about you won't view it as an imposition. To be fair, I'm still working on this one....
I would recommend taking more chances and being less cautious. I've lived my life as the good girl overall. I've tried to make careful, deliberate decisions. I've tried to make good choices. I've tried to do the right things for the right reasons. Most of the time, this has been a good thing. There will be times, however, when it will be wiser to throw caution to the wind and take some risks. I will know those times when they arrive and I shouldn't question them when I see them. I should just jump in with both feet and enjoy the ride.
Cut out the sodas, take the right vitamins and stay out of the sun. Never go to sleep with make-up on. In fact, go ahead and adopt that skin care regimen you're thinking about. The earlier, the better. Your skin will thank you as you approach 40. Seriously, it pays off - I promise.
It's perfectly normal to be obsessed with cute shoes. And cute handbags. A cute pair of shoes can turn the most rotten day on the planet into a simply delightful afternoon. Don't even get me started on what cute handbags and purses can do.
Start considering museum work while you're working on your bachelor's. I wish I would have. Museums are awesome - just as interesting to work in as it is to visit them.
Dr. Who is cool. You'll find this out eventually. This will happen around the time it occurs to you that you enjoy sci-fi as much as you enjoy history. Don't bother questioning the dichotomy of this. It's all good.
Yes, green beans are gross. Don't doubt this or feel guilt about not liking them. And don't give into peer pressure to eat them. Just say no and walk away.
Trends to stay away from: low-rise jeans (I really shouldn't have to explain this one), reality t.v. (I'm not sure why I'm mentioning this - you're smart enough to avoid it once it starts), George W. Bush (ok, he'll never be a trend, but you should be warned about his administration anyway. Yes, we'll survive. Barely.), boy bands (especially one called the Backstreet Boys - they're big throughout the 1990's - trust me when I say grunge is better), pashmina shawls (yes, they're pretty but really....what do you do with them?) and dessert trends like cupcakes and crepes - all desserts are equally good and should never be discriminated against. There are more but I'm running out of room....
Finally, don't lose your sense of humor. There will be times when it will be one of the things that carries you through the difficult times. In other words, keep watching Monty Python. After all, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Girl vs. Refrigerator
Let me be Julia Sugarbaker for a moment....
Over the last week, my refrigerator has slowly stopped working. Really it's just the refrigerator part - the freezer section is working fine. But the refrigerator part is barely cold now. I've called the complex maintenance people and yesterday afternoon, Mr. Maintenance Man showed up. Oy vey.
Mr. Maintenance Man proceeded to tell me that I clearly had done something wrong since the refrigerator was only 6 months old. The thing is, I've been in my apartment almost a year and when I moved in, I was told the refrigerator was a year or two old and said as much to Mr. Maintenance Man. Also, I owned my own refrigerator for many years and never had any problems. And finally, I've had other problems with this stupid appliance since day one (the ice maker leaks and the maintenance people have attempted to fix it no fewer than 5 times). He most definitely didn't like me pointing these things out and proceeded to tell me again that I had done something wrong. I asked what he thought I'd done and here are the possibilities of what I may have done (in his opinion):
1. overpacked the freezer (it wasn't, by the way)
2. mistakenly left the freezer door open (????? The last time I checked, I wasn't five years old and didn't just, ooops, forget to close the freezer door)
3. messed with the knob controlling the temperature of the appliance and therefore causing the temperature to go haywire (because at 38 years old, I like to sit and play with the knobs on the refrigerator...)
His solution? Turn off the refrigerator and let it completely thaw/defrost and then turn it back it on and the refrigerator should magically start working again. This is crap, of course, but I figured why not humor him so at the very least I could point out how very mistaken he was later on down the road. I did what he suggested and of course, no magic took place (what did take place was throwing out everything in my refrigerator and buying new groceries). I will be pointing out the mistake of his crappy suggestion later on today....
Here is the real problem. Mr. Maintenance Man is one of those men....the short kind with the Napoleon complex and the attitude that no woman could possibly be intelligent or have a valid opinion. I don't throw out the accusation of sexism lightly but this little man was blatantly and swaggeringly sexist. It came off of him in waves. He all but patronizingly patted me on the head and called me little lady.
In everyday life, I believe in being considerate and polite. I believe in treating people with respect and being ladylike and appropriate. But everyone has limits. And being treated as less than intelligent based on gender alone is where my limit is. Anyway, by the end of our little tete-a-tete, he clearly didn't like me and I most decidedly didn't like him and it ended with us glaring at each other across my counter top.
I am again left wondering (for the millionth time in my life) what it is about being female that makes me seem less than intelligent? Why do women have to work overtime to prove that our problem/opinion/issue/thoughts are valid just because of our gender and that we aren't over-exaggerating? What is it about a penis that creates immediate validation? It's just an appendage for Pete's sake. And let's be honest here...it's not even an appendage that, on average, uses a lot of common sense either.
Don't get me wrong, though. I really like men - for so many reasons and on so many levels. I've met plenty of men over the years - plenty of strong, decent men - who prefer strong, intelligent women. Those men represent where the bar should be set. I both like and admire those kind of men. They're easy to be around. Who doesn't love a man who is easy to be around? Furthermore, who doesn't love a man who loves you being strong and intelligent? Nothing is more attractive than that - sign me up for that kind of man!
Here is where I admit something I'm not always proud of. When I was married and I encountered this sort of attitude, I would just turn it over to my ex and he would deal with the sexist schmuck of the moment. You eventually get tired of fighting the battle to be taken seriously; it's tedious and tiresome. When the opportunity arose to not fight the battle for a while, I admit I often turned it over to my ex. Consequently, I had forgotten how difficult it could be to take care of problems and issues as a single female and I am now beyond irked.
The ironic thing about sexism is that it comes across as prissy and high maintenance. Seriously. The first thing I think when I'm around sexist men is how personally weak they appear. No strong, secure man gets so intimidated by someone that they talk down to them or denigrate them. Sexist men are the ones who whine when things don't go their way or become belligerent when they hear something they don't want to hear. Sexist men are overgrown children.
I know I'm ranting now but I can already picture the week ahead and I don't relish the fight I'm facing. I shouldn't have to spend the coming days trying to convince someone that a working refrigerator is necessary in this day and age. I spend enough on rent each month that it should be a given that fixing my refrigerator is a must. Now to convince the prissy little maintenance man of this obvious fact.....
Here endeth my Julia Sugarbaker moment.
On a side note - the temperature setting on my washer just broke. I kid you not.
Over the last week, my refrigerator has slowly stopped working. Really it's just the refrigerator part - the freezer section is working fine. But the refrigerator part is barely cold now. I've called the complex maintenance people and yesterday afternoon, Mr. Maintenance Man showed up. Oy vey.
Mr. Maintenance Man proceeded to tell me that I clearly had done something wrong since the refrigerator was only 6 months old. The thing is, I've been in my apartment almost a year and when I moved in, I was told the refrigerator was a year or two old and said as much to Mr. Maintenance Man. Also, I owned my own refrigerator for many years and never had any problems. And finally, I've had other problems with this stupid appliance since day one (the ice maker leaks and the maintenance people have attempted to fix it no fewer than 5 times). He most definitely didn't like me pointing these things out and proceeded to tell me again that I had done something wrong. I asked what he thought I'd done and here are the possibilities of what I may have done (in his opinion):
1. overpacked the freezer (it wasn't, by the way)
2. mistakenly left the freezer door open (????? The last time I checked, I wasn't five years old and didn't just, ooops, forget to close the freezer door)
3. messed with the knob controlling the temperature of the appliance and therefore causing the temperature to go haywire (because at 38 years old, I like to sit and play with the knobs on the refrigerator...)
His solution? Turn off the refrigerator and let it completely thaw/defrost and then turn it back it on and the refrigerator should magically start working again. This is crap, of course, but I figured why not humor him so at the very least I could point out how very mistaken he was later on down the road. I did what he suggested and of course, no magic took place (what did take place was throwing out everything in my refrigerator and buying new groceries). I will be pointing out the mistake of his crappy suggestion later on today....
Here is the real problem. Mr. Maintenance Man is one of those men....the short kind with the Napoleon complex and the attitude that no woman could possibly be intelligent or have a valid opinion. I don't throw out the accusation of sexism lightly but this little man was blatantly and swaggeringly sexist. It came off of him in waves. He all but patronizingly patted me on the head and called me little lady.
In everyday life, I believe in being considerate and polite. I believe in treating people with respect and being ladylike and appropriate. But everyone has limits. And being treated as less than intelligent based on gender alone is where my limit is. Anyway, by the end of our little tete-a-tete, he clearly didn't like me and I most decidedly didn't like him and it ended with us glaring at each other across my counter top.
I am again left wondering (for the millionth time in my life) what it is about being female that makes me seem less than intelligent? Why do women have to work overtime to prove that our problem/opinion/issue/thoughts are valid just because of our gender and that we aren't over-exaggerating? What is it about a penis that creates immediate validation? It's just an appendage for Pete's sake. And let's be honest here...it's not even an appendage that, on average, uses a lot of common sense either.
Don't get me wrong, though. I really like men - for so many reasons and on so many levels. I've met plenty of men over the years - plenty of strong, decent men - who prefer strong, intelligent women. Those men represent where the bar should be set. I both like and admire those kind of men. They're easy to be around. Who doesn't love a man who is easy to be around? Furthermore, who doesn't love a man who loves you being strong and intelligent? Nothing is more attractive than that - sign me up for that kind of man!
Here is where I admit something I'm not always proud of. When I was married and I encountered this sort of attitude, I would just turn it over to my ex and he would deal with the sexist schmuck of the moment. You eventually get tired of fighting the battle to be taken seriously; it's tedious and tiresome. When the opportunity arose to not fight the battle for a while, I admit I often turned it over to my ex. Consequently, I had forgotten how difficult it could be to take care of problems and issues as a single female and I am now beyond irked.
The ironic thing about sexism is that it comes across as prissy and high maintenance. Seriously. The first thing I think when I'm around sexist men is how personally weak they appear. No strong, secure man gets so intimidated by someone that they talk down to them or denigrate them. Sexist men are the ones who whine when things don't go their way or become belligerent when they hear something they don't want to hear. Sexist men are overgrown children.
I know I'm ranting now but I can already picture the week ahead and I don't relish the fight I'm facing. I shouldn't have to spend the coming days trying to convince someone that a working refrigerator is necessary in this day and age. I spend enough on rent each month that it should be a given that fixing my refrigerator is a must. Now to convince the prissy little maintenance man of this obvious fact.....
Here endeth my Julia Sugarbaker moment.
On a side note - the temperature setting on my washer just broke. I kid you not.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
I'm A Legal Alien in...My Own Life
This past week marked the one year anniversary of when my ex left. I didn't think it would be as painful as it was. But it really was quite painful. I couldn't stop thinking about my old life, comparing where I am now from where I once was. I'm a world away from where I used to be.
My life is still a bit unrecognizable, at least to me. I spent 13 years with my ex and maybe it just takes a lot longer to shake that off than what I realized. I still have a difficult time with the everyday reality of single life. I don't have a good way to explain this. The only people who could understand it are the people who were married for a long time and then suddenly and inexplicably found themselves...not married. Married life in suburbia is vastly different than the single life in an apartment, though. Trust me on this - it really is.
The last year has changed me. This is something else I'm not sure how to explain except to say that I'm not who I once was. There wasn't a single thing in my life that wasn't affected by the divorce and there was very little I didn't lose by the end of it all. I was proverbially stripped bare when my marriage ended so it stands to reason that I'm a different person now. I've spent a lot of time measuring those changes...trying to gage exactly what about me is different. As it turns out, everything is. I'm a lot harder and tougher now than I used to be. In fact, it's a level of toughness that surprises me from time to time. I think I've always been strong, but I'm not sure I was ever this kind of strong before. As much as it may suck, I can hold my own with anything - no matter what happens. And I have a far greater ability to take feelings out and insert only practical reasoning in many situations (this is huge for me because I've long been a right-brained, artsy, somewhat flaky person). It takes a lot more to actually hurt my feelings and I'm quicker to anger than be hurt.
I'm far more willing to take chances and try new things and yet, I'm really not willing to put up with pointless, meaningless crap anymore. I'm more honest now and I find I have a more difficult time censoring myself (this isn't necessarily a good thing, mind you - I find myself saying a little too often, "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"). And yet, I value compassion and kindness even more than what I used to. I have a far greater ability to compartmentalize my feelings - I can set them aside and focus on other things... and if I want, never come back to them again (the funny thing about this is that it's a very Scarlett O'Hara mindset to set things aside and think about them later, but men are generally the ones who are very good at doing this). I'm able to be more apathetic about other peoples' opinions and judgments and trust my own gut instinct instead (this can be both good and bad).
I've never been great with change. By nature, I'm a "nester" - I like to have my own familiar space with familiar things and people and situations. Change has generally been a difficult thing for me. At least until the last year. I daresay that change will never again be difficult for me.
I'm also a lot more open to people and things than I used to be. As much as an introvert as I've always been, this severing of my old life has led me to meet great new people from all over the country who I wouldn't have met otherwise. I've also made some wonderful new friends in the area in which I live and I have such fun spending time with them. I've reconnected with some family in the area which has been comforting and a lot of of fun. I even have a pen-pal in the Channel Islands now. We correspond once a week and luckily she and I have enough in common that it's a fun correspondence. I would definitely say my life is richer and more interesting because of these new people. But the old me would have had a far more difficult time doing any of this.
Finally, in the coming weeks, I'll be interviewing for a job that flies in the face of all things introverted. It would involve frequent contact with new people and situations, fundraising for my museum, promoting the museum and being a more public presence. I can say with complete honesty that this is something I NEVER would have considered doing before. But I'm not only considering it, I'm looking forward to the challenges and opportunities that the job will present. Of course, I say this now, but I may regret this new found enthusiasm for extroversion once I have to start tackling public speaking...
The last few days have been "up" days for me. The 2 weeks prior to this were definitely painful. My life can still somewhat be a "one day at a time" existence. A cousin of mine recently said that she wished she could fast foward her life by several years to see what was coming and then come back to the present day with that knowledge of the future. I can't help but agree. I wonder every single day what's coming down the road and if what's coming will be better than what's been. People tell me that things will eventually again be happy overall. And that, as always, all things merge into one.
My life is still a bit unrecognizable, at least to me. I spent 13 years with my ex and maybe it just takes a lot longer to shake that off than what I realized. I still have a difficult time with the everyday reality of single life. I don't have a good way to explain this. The only people who could understand it are the people who were married for a long time and then suddenly and inexplicably found themselves...not married. Married life in suburbia is vastly different than the single life in an apartment, though. Trust me on this - it really is.
The last year has changed me. This is something else I'm not sure how to explain except to say that I'm not who I once was. There wasn't a single thing in my life that wasn't affected by the divorce and there was very little I didn't lose by the end of it all. I was proverbially stripped bare when my marriage ended so it stands to reason that I'm a different person now. I've spent a lot of time measuring those changes...trying to gage exactly what about me is different. As it turns out, everything is. I'm a lot harder and tougher now than I used to be. In fact, it's a level of toughness that surprises me from time to time. I think I've always been strong, but I'm not sure I was ever this kind of strong before. As much as it may suck, I can hold my own with anything - no matter what happens. And I have a far greater ability to take feelings out and insert only practical reasoning in many situations (this is huge for me because I've long been a right-brained, artsy, somewhat flaky person). It takes a lot more to actually hurt my feelings and I'm quicker to anger than be hurt.
I'm far more willing to take chances and try new things and yet, I'm really not willing to put up with pointless, meaningless crap anymore. I'm more honest now and I find I have a more difficult time censoring myself (this isn't necessarily a good thing, mind you - I find myself saying a little too often, "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"). And yet, I value compassion and kindness even more than what I used to. I have a far greater ability to compartmentalize my feelings - I can set them aside and focus on other things... and if I want, never come back to them again (the funny thing about this is that it's a very Scarlett O'Hara mindset to set things aside and think about them later, but men are generally the ones who are very good at doing this). I'm able to be more apathetic about other peoples' opinions and judgments and trust my own gut instinct instead (this can be both good and bad).
I've never been great with change. By nature, I'm a "nester" - I like to have my own familiar space with familiar things and people and situations. Change has generally been a difficult thing for me. At least until the last year. I daresay that change will never again be difficult for me.
I'm also a lot more open to people and things than I used to be. As much as an introvert as I've always been, this severing of my old life has led me to meet great new people from all over the country who I wouldn't have met otherwise. I've also made some wonderful new friends in the area in which I live and I have such fun spending time with them. I've reconnected with some family in the area which has been comforting and a lot of of fun. I even have a pen-pal in the Channel Islands now. We correspond once a week and luckily she and I have enough in common that it's a fun correspondence. I would definitely say my life is richer and more interesting because of these new people. But the old me would have had a far more difficult time doing any of this.
Finally, in the coming weeks, I'll be interviewing for a job that flies in the face of all things introverted. It would involve frequent contact with new people and situations, fundraising for my museum, promoting the museum and being a more public presence. I can say with complete honesty that this is something I NEVER would have considered doing before. But I'm not only considering it, I'm looking forward to the challenges and opportunities that the job will present. Of course, I say this now, but I may regret this new found enthusiasm for extroversion once I have to start tackling public speaking...
The last few days have been "up" days for me. The 2 weeks prior to this were definitely painful. My life can still somewhat be a "one day at a time" existence. A cousin of mine recently said that she wished she could fast foward her life by several years to see what was coming and then come back to the present day with that knowledge of the future. I can't help but agree. I wonder every single day what's coming down the road and if what's coming will be better than what's been. People tell me that things will eventually again be happy overall. And that, as always, all things merge into one.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
M'aidez
M'aidez is "help me" in French. Most of us know it as the universal emergency phrase for help, "may day". Which leads me to my topic for the day - me needing help and never being able to ask for it.
Asking for help is a nearly impossible thing for me to do. For as long as I can remember, I've equated asking for help with unnecessarily imposing on other people. There are a variety of reasons for this. The first reason involves how I was raised. I spent my formative years with parents who believed you don't talk about problems. You keep a stiff upper lip and stoically bear your problems privately because everyone has problems and life isn't always fair. The second reason is that I'm an introvert. It takes great effort for me to reach out on a good day, so reaching out when things are bad is that much more difficult. The last reason is that I've been terribly burned by people in the last few years and I can't convince myself to risk my feelings these days.
I struggle with this. It's not at all practical to be so opposed to asking for help, especially since the divorce. Things happen that can't always be handled alone. The best example is Hobbes getting sick recently (he survived and is doing fine...another story for another post). I truly didn't believe he was going to survive, though. After the first late night emergency vet visit, I realized that if I had to take him back in the middle of the night and he died, I would have to drive home in the middle of the night distraught. The emergency vet is 20-30 minutes from where I live. So, I made myself contact a friend and ask for help. Well, technically I asked if the worst happened, would he mind going with me. But even doing that was hard. I don't really know how to get past this. I don't know how to be ok with asking for help.
I can't spend the rest of my life being afraid of or opposed to reaching out to other people. Sigh. Asking for help....my kryptonite.
Asking for help is a nearly impossible thing for me to do. For as long as I can remember, I've equated asking for help with unnecessarily imposing on other people. There are a variety of reasons for this. The first reason involves how I was raised. I spent my formative years with parents who believed you don't talk about problems. You keep a stiff upper lip and stoically bear your problems privately because everyone has problems and life isn't always fair. The second reason is that I'm an introvert. It takes great effort for me to reach out on a good day, so reaching out when things are bad is that much more difficult. The last reason is that I've been terribly burned by people in the last few years and I can't convince myself to risk my feelings these days.
I struggle with this. It's not at all practical to be so opposed to asking for help, especially since the divorce. Things happen that can't always be handled alone. The best example is Hobbes getting sick recently (he survived and is doing fine...another story for another post). I truly didn't believe he was going to survive, though. After the first late night emergency vet visit, I realized that if I had to take him back in the middle of the night and he died, I would have to drive home in the middle of the night distraught. The emergency vet is 20-30 minutes from where I live. So, I made myself contact a friend and ask for help. Well, technically I asked if the worst happened, would he mind going with me. But even doing that was hard. I don't really know how to get past this. I don't know how to be ok with asking for help.
I can't spend the rest of my life being afraid of or opposed to reaching out to other people. Sigh. Asking for help....my kryptonite.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Unconditional Love
Right now, my cat is very sick. He's also very old. 18 years old in fact. And I love him more than anything. I don't think he's going to get better and it's breaking my heart.
The last year of my life has been well and truly difficult. I can say honestly (if not rather melodramatically) there have been precious few good times. My cats have made this time of purgatory more tolerable. It's more bearable to come home to an empty apartment when there are two furry animals happily waiting for you. It's easier to sleep alone at night when you have pets next to you. I honestly don't know what I would have done without them this last year. They've often been my lone solace. I talk to them a lot. Silly perhaps, but if you're a pet owner who views their pets as a family member then you understand. My pets are definitely family.
The thing about animals is that they give such unconditional love, something many humans haven't quite learned to do. Pets don't judge and they generally love you just as you are. They look forward to seeing you each and every day and want to be around you no matter how you look, how you feel or what you've done. I think that pets are such a pure representation of unconditional love that in the dictionary, the word "unconditional" should have images of pets next to it.
I'm not ready to say goodbye to my cat. He's one of the loveliest, sweetest animals I've ever had. Everyone who meets him adores him. He has a rare sweet spirit and if there is such a thing as reincarnation, then his next life will be a very, very good one. I love him dearly and I hate knowing he's in pain. And I'm not ready to face losing him. I hate this.
The last year of my life has been well and truly difficult. I can say honestly (if not rather melodramatically) there have been precious few good times. My cats have made this time of purgatory more tolerable. It's more bearable to come home to an empty apartment when there are two furry animals happily waiting for you. It's easier to sleep alone at night when you have pets next to you. I honestly don't know what I would have done without them this last year. They've often been my lone solace. I talk to them a lot. Silly perhaps, but if you're a pet owner who views their pets as a family member then you understand. My pets are definitely family.
The thing about animals is that they give such unconditional love, something many humans haven't quite learned to do. Pets don't judge and they generally love you just as you are. They look forward to seeing you each and every day and want to be around you no matter how you look, how you feel or what you've done. I think that pets are such a pure representation of unconditional love that in the dictionary, the word "unconditional" should have images of pets next to it.
I'm not ready to say goodbye to my cat. He's one of the loveliest, sweetest animals I've ever had. Everyone who meets him adores him. He has a rare sweet spirit and if there is such a thing as reincarnation, then his next life will be a very, very good one. I love him dearly and I hate knowing he's in pain. And I'm not ready to face losing him. I hate this.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Not My First Go Around
This isn't my first blog. It's not really even my second. I kept my last blog throughout 2011....the worst year of my life. I wrote nearly obsessively about the pain of a sudden and unexpected divorce, offering up morbid details and hashing over the things most outside people give no thought to about divorce. That blog was highly personal and quite possibly offered up far too much information. I've long been a fairly private person and tend to keep details of my personal life to myself. There are variety of reasons for this but I suppose the biggest reason is that I hate having my thoughts and opinions and overall life judged by other people. I'm a live and let live kind of person but a lot of people aren't. So I generally keep my life to myself. The blog last year was truly an antithesis of who I am.
I couldn't help keeping my last blog, though. I wasn't ready to dive into therapy again and writing has long been cathartic for me. Writing cleanses me....leaves me feeling like I've had a good cry. I'm a right brained, artsy person and for me writing taps into the creative side of myself. Growing up, I played musical instruments and enjoyed drawing as well as writing. But so far, writing is the one thing I've done consistently throughout my life.
I finally gave in and went back into therapy before Christmas and consequently quit blogging. As it turns out, I write more when I'm in pain. I knew after I started therapy that the blog would no longer serve the purpose it had been serving....that I would no longer feel compelled to write about the pain if I was having to talk about it each week. I eventually shut the blog down (I didn't delete it, though, because....well, I'm not sure why. I just couldn't delete it) when I realized that I was eventually going to have to go back into the dating scene again. We aren't a society that embraces expression of honest emotion...especially not if that emotion involves pain. When people pour forth their raw feelings, it's often viewed as mentally unstable. I figure I'm a bit odd already so having a blog outlining all of the pain I'd been through would just add fuel to my little fire of oddity.
I'm no longer doing therapy. I only did a few months and since then, I haven't had much of an emotional outlet. In recent months, I started writing in an old journal. I've tried to put the same amount of effort and emotion into the journal, but I just can't seem to do the same kind of writing that I do when I blog. Hence this new blog....
And the name? All things merge into one. This is a line from a quote by Norman McLean in A River Runs Through It:
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
I love these words. They are beautiful and true. All things merge into one. For better or for worse, they really do.
I couldn't help keeping my last blog, though. I wasn't ready to dive into therapy again and writing has long been cathartic for me. Writing cleanses me....leaves me feeling like I've had a good cry. I'm a right brained, artsy person and for me writing taps into the creative side of myself. Growing up, I played musical instruments and enjoyed drawing as well as writing. But so far, writing is the one thing I've done consistently throughout my life.
I finally gave in and went back into therapy before Christmas and consequently quit blogging. As it turns out, I write more when I'm in pain. I knew after I started therapy that the blog would no longer serve the purpose it had been serving....that I would no longer feel compelled to write about the pain if I was having to talk about it each week. I eventually shut the blog down (I didn't delete it, though, because....well, I'm not sure why. I just couldn't delete it) when I realized that I was eventually going to have to go back into the dating scene again. We aren't a society that embraces expression of honest emotion...especially not if that emotion involves pain. When people pour forth their raw feelings, it's often viewed as mentally unstable. I figure I'm a bit odd already so having a blog outlining all of the pain I'd been through would just add fuel to my little fire of oddity.
I'm no longer doing therapy. I only did a few months and since then, I haven't had much of an emotional outlet. In recent months, I started writing in an old journal. I've tried to put the same amount of effort and emotion into the journal, but I just can't seem to do the same kind of writing that I do when I blog. Hence this new blog....
And the name? All things merge into one. This is a line from a quote by Norman McLean in A River Runs Through It:
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
I love these words. They are beautiful and true. All things merge into one. For better or for worse, they really do.
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