It's official I'm losing, or have lost, most of my mind. Maybe that is harsh, so what have I lost?
My birthday came and went this year. With my yearly anticipation to the date, and the over-excitement of what will come, what started with such promise ended in frustration and the knowing the person that had wanted to make it so damn great for me didn't fulfill his wishes or mine. The night ended in a shitty argument, a heated fight of many sorts, and this was actually after great dancing, simple but yummy food and much needed laughs with friends. Ah, where did it all go wrong...?
A very close friend of mine that birthday night was shocked to hear that I wasn't in love with my boyfriend. I was shocked SHE was so shocked. I stopped being that girl that fell so hard so quickly, um, about a million heartbreaks ago, or maybe just after my marriage unravelled. Maybe I hide that well. I think if you've never had your heart ripped out of your chest, you would surely still fall in love at the drop of a hat. Doesn't or hasn't happened yet. I don't think I really allow it to. Sure there was and is a boy here or there that captured my heart and attention during the last four years (not always easy for a boy to do), but love? I don't think so. (They don't call it 'falling' for someone or 'falling' in love, for nothin', either, boys and girls.) Her astonishment felt like judgment though I know it wasn't. I think she just felt to not be in love with the one you're with was a complete waste of time. I see it as protecting my own heart and giving time to see where things go. Love in 60 days? Not my style. I think I've grown up since those days. Cynical? Hard? Jaded? Sure. But I also think it can be better to not trip over the cupid arrows and just like what you have a hell of a lot. The fall-in-love-so-quickly peeps may scoff. It's okay. We all do what we gotta do.
It's been hard to determine what is anything these days. The guilt of even having a rough time when I feel I shouldn't eats me up. And no, this is not even close to being all boyfriend related, friends. When I feel everyone is doing more, has it tougher, has way more to juggle (that's a big steep hill on my personal guilt trip--bus stops every 5 minutes, folks) it is very hard to even reach out for help. I've dropped the hints, or the actual bang-on one liners. They get answered in text form, phone messaging, all the great stuff of our technology age. Do I wish I was happier or even just a bit content? Fuck yes. When I have "fun" it's fleeting. I can usually count on both hands the amount of times I laugh each week. Would letting go and falling in love help this? He would probably say yes, almost urges me to do so. But I don't think a great man can even do it all to ease the constant pain I feel daily.
Damn, maybe I'll just email this to my therapist and save $100 visit.......
Monday, February 27, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Abstract
Today is Valentine's Day and I'm sitting alone at my kitchen table, utterly too thankful that the kids went to bed by 8pm. And I'm not even drinking wine!
My Valentine's celebrations were Sunday night. I would say it should have also included last night, Monday, as well, but it was definitely not the same as Sunday for many reasons. Sunday was full of surprises and champagne and sex (well, that just makes any day better) and a general, "we really like each other" feel and "we're both going to show it all night". I like those days with Damian. Last night, not so much. It felt there were time lines and two different dinners to make and the reminder that someone has an early start to their weekday. Bah humbug. Alas, I had Sunday. I also this morning alone at his place with a brand new coffee maker and a view of the city I never tire of. I don't think I should complain.
It's been a weird week. Amid the plans for the weekend's Valentine's celebrations, there have been many many plans for my mom of an entirely different nature. She will very soon be a "Beaches" or "Beach" resident. I say Beaches, but I'm sure I'd get my head bitten off by the Beaches people that say it's the Beach. Tomato Tomato. She's moving and moving very soon. March 1st soon. I will no longer ever really have the need to go to Ajax, except to see Shmore's family.
It is now also hitting me more that I will never be in that house ever again. And even though Dad dying in my old room haunts me, I won't even have that room to be haunted by in my life. It will be someone else's bedroom and I will never see it again. It's a bit overwhelming.
Overwhelming is also my mother. God love her, is the saying that comes to mind. I know my sister and I do love her, but boy oh boy it's been tough taking care of so much. You find parenting a parent as challenging as parenting a child. Hate to say it like that, but it's kind of accurate. The worst part is, I'm not even doing all the parenting. God love my sister, I wll say next. Calls, plans, calls, confirmations, lawyers, real estate agents, bill companies and a new landlord. Not for her, for my mom. It's been a crazy journey and how my sister has held it together, I don't know. I think my dad has worked more than one miracle since his death. She, my mom, has survived, and so have we, the children. And we haven't just survived this winter, and not only every new month of the first year without him. We have just survived and we have continued on. I don't say "moved on" because you never quite do after you lose someone, do you? You can move on physically, but I don't think you ever move on mentally. Anguish and grief linger longer than bitterness or guilt. Bad emotions all around. But onwards and upwards I say (in a British accent, yes). Where else is there to go?
And so it was fitting that on the day my mom sees what will now be HER new apartment in the city, and the evening which she agreed to babysit for me, I went and got my fourth (and not final) tattoo, the one I would have scripted out for me but in my father's memory. I hope he saw it all from that beautiful place I see heaven to be. Saw how little I grimaced, saw how proud I was at the finished product. Saw Damian holding my hand the entire (near) 2 hours. It's done and healing well as I knew it would. It's brightened me and my last few days since I've had it. Made me a bit happier, like when you smile to yourself when you know a secret that no one else knows. That's what the new ink on my left ribcage is. A small secret that when I think of it, makes me feel better. Onwards and upwards. (And thank you, Bill).
My Valentine's celebrations were Sunday night. I would say it should have also included last night, Monday, as well, but it was definitely not the same as Sunday for many reasons. Sunday was full of surprises and champagne and sex (well, that just makes any day better) and a general, "we really like each other" feel and "we're both going to show it all night". I like those days with Damian. Last night, not so much. It felt there were time lines and two different dinners to make and the reminder that someone has an early start to their weekday. Bah humbug. Alas, I had Sunday. I also this morning alone at his place with a brand new coffee maker and a view of the city I never tire of. I don't think I should complain.
It's been a weird week. Amid the plans for the weekend's Valentine's celebrations, there have been many many plans for my mom of an entirely different nature. She will very soon be a "Beaches" or "Beach" resident. I say Beaches, but I'm sure I'd get my head bitten off by the Beaches people that say it's the Beach. Tomato Tomato. She's moving and moving very soon. March 1st soon. I will no longer ever really have the need to go to Ajax, except to see Shmore's family.
It is now also hitting me more that I will never be in that house ever again. And even though Dad dying in my old room haunts me, I won't even have that room to be haunted by in my life. It will be someone else's bedroom and I will never see it again. It's a bit overwhelming.
Overwhelming is also my mother. God love her, is the saying that comes to mind. I know my sister and I do love her, but boy oh boy it's been tough taking care of so much. You find parenting a parent as challenging as parenting a child. Hate to say it like that, but it's kind of accurate. The worst part is, I'm not even doing all the parenting. God love my sister, I wll say next. Calls, plans, calls, confirmations, lawyers, real estate agents, bill companies and a new landlord. Not for her, for my mom. It's been a crazy journey and how my sister has held it together, I don't know. I think my dad has worked more than one miracle since his death. She, my mom, has survived, and so have we, the children. And we haven't just survived this winter, and not only every new month of the first year without him. We have just survived and we have continued on. I don't say "moved on" because you never quite do after you lose someone, do you? You can move on physically, but I don't think you ever move on mentally. Anguish and grief linger longer than bitterness or guilt. Bad emotions all around. But onwards and upwards I say (in a British accent, yes). Where else is there to go?
And so it was fitting that on the day my mom sees what will now be HER new apartment in the city, and the evening which she agreed to babysit for me, I went and got my fourth (and not final) tattoo, the one I would have scripted out for me but in my father's memory. I hope he saw it all from that beautiful place I see heaven to be. Saw how little I grimaced, saw how proud I was at the finished product. Saw Damian holding my hand the entire (near) 2 hours. It's done and healing well as I knew it would. It's brightened me and my last few days since I've had it. Made me a bit happier, like when you smile to yourself when you know a secret that no one else knows. That's what the new ink on my left ribcage is. A small secret that when I think of it, makes me feel better. Onwards and upwards. (And thank you, Bill).
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Forgetful but not forgotten
I think I have to re-read my past blogs. I think I have to breathe more. I think I need to remind myself to make my own life happen instead of helping make other's lives flourish. I think I need to remind myself that my children are young, and still children that don't always know better. I think I need to remind myself that even if I continue to raise them alone, for a long, long time, they will appreciate me, I will appreciate me, and we will go on, happily.
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