They're Only Memories

“Courage doesn’t always roar, sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day whispering, ‘I will try again tomorrow’.” ~ May Anne Radmacher

My memoriam to the people that gave me the will to keep going is still in the works. I’ve uncovered a minefield recently as a result of constantly peering into the past. This is a section of my life I realized has been a secret I’ve carried most of my life. I never spoke a word of it to anyone. So, I’m facing these things. It’s emotionally draining and feels like a heavy anchor pulling me down a sinkhole. There are times I’ve wanted to walk away from it entirely – but I hear a small voice in my mind that tells me to keep going and finish what I started. I have to remind myself why I began in the first place because I’ve felt like giving up more than once.

This has been a very lonely process, too. I don't think I've ever felt more isolated than I do right now.

I have to remind myself that this is the only way I’ll get better. Yes, it hurts. It hurts a lot. Sometimes the emotion that broke your heart in the first place is the one that heals it. I also have to remind myself that I’m not a vulnerable child not in control of her own life anymore. They can’t touch me now – they are only memories. They are only memories. They are only memories.

Eventually I'll stop running. I'll stop fighting. I'll stop hiding. I'll learn to embrace the things I'm working so hard to only make eye contact with right now.

When I first stumbled upon it, my minefield certainly didn’t feel like distant memories. More so because I was sick and had nothing to do but lie in bed. During my conscious moments I remembered and in my dreams the memories haunted me. That week, in particular was a little rough. I just tell myself to keep going, keep writing, and keep sharing the secrets I have to share. What it all boils down to in the end is that I’m simply afraid of emotional suffering. That’s what I dread most.

Guess who still puts on her happy face anyway?

You know what else is a little rough? Getting back on my bike after being down for the count for about two weeks. I feel like I’m starting all over because the bastard virus attacked my respiratory system. For this situation in life, I’m telling myself that I’ll be Iron Man eventually.

Just kidding! That is not an appealing ambition for me. I’ve actually returned to listening to music again just so I don’t have to hear my own suffering of major breath exertion while going uphill. It’s a psychological thing. I feel like it’s not quite so hard when I don’t have to hear how hard I’m working.

One thing I have to start making more of an effort to practice is dancing. Friends keep pointing out that it was something that made me happy. It did. I just have to start moving. I know that’s all it will take. I happen to have a nicely sized patio which I’ve been cleaning little by little. I think I’ll start belly dance again. I’m not entirely sure I want to go back to tango. I think about it from time to time . . . and I’m just not sure. Either way, dancing is something I enjoy and I should get back to it – particularly in times like this when I’m staring my demons in the face and unsure that I can handle anything in my present life.

Maybe someone just needs to give me a kick in the arse.

I feel as though my creative energy has been entirely tapped out. I can’t pinpoint the reason, if one exists at all. I’ve made every effort to cut unnecessary people out of my life who gladly take my warmth, but offer none in return. Despite my efforts to focus more on me, I feel like something major is missing and it’s affecting my capacity to creative, worship, dance, etc.

So, while I invest some time into regaining my physical and spiritual energy, I’ll be reflecting . . .  I’m always reflecting these days as a result of my therapeutic project. Sometimes I wonder if it’s really therapeutic or just plain torture. There have been a few times since I’ve started that I’ve wished my very existence would evaporate entirely. When I’m feeling that down I tell myself there would be no one left to talk about my father, grandmother, and others. Thinking along those lines and comparing the outcomes, I feel it would be far worse to let their memories be forgotten. That’s the main reason I’m still keeping at it even though it hurts.

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity.” – Paul Coelho, Alchemist

When Confronted With Pandora, Just Keep Dancing

“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.” – Harvey Fierstein

I had a fairly rough time for a while – not because I lost someone particularly meaningful to me, but because I felt like a failure and his words have been harsh, cruel and unkind. It would seem as though he’s on a mission of character assassination.

Character assassination (n): the act of saying false things about a person usually in order to make the public stop liking or trusting that person.

My confession is this: I’m fighting really hard to avoid retaliation. There are plenty of negative things I could say to insult his character or existence as a human being. I won’t do it because that’s not the kind of person I am.

His main point of attack is his claim that I have a severe alcohol problem and should contact him when I’m ‘ready for help’. Initially, this hurt me. It hurt because I told him in confidence about a time in my life when I used alcohol as a poor coping mechanism after an assault that I didn’t know how to even begin processing. I also lost an uncle to massive organ failure because he spent too many years of his life drinking. That’s what hurt me.

From the way he talked, this is where I'd be in 5 years . . . with facial hair, too, because I'd be too sad over the life he could have provided for me.

My friends who know me well find his comments laughable. I’m now counting my blessings that he only met a few of my friends in person. Where I am hurt at his actions, they are angry for me. My lovely guardians, where would I be without you?

Perhaps all disagreements should be settled this way.

The lowest blow came in the form of Pandora’s Box. I remember staring at it on the front porch and thinking to myself, “My therapist would tell me not to open this” and also my good friend would say, “Throw it directly into the garbage bin”. So what do I do? I open the damn thing. I was happy to finally have a couple of things I left in his car back in my possession, but this came with a price. In the box he included a lengthy typed letter and a rock.

I don't know if it was temptation or that I felt I needed more punishment, because nothing good was going to come out of that box.

Once again, the letter pointed to my character flaws, something about the rock amplifying energy and another piece about a hummingbird or something. I threw the rock where the Columbia and Willamette meet. That was one of the most gratifying experiences in my life.

The weeks following the arrival of that box were a little rough. I tend to be hard on myself in any normal setting . . . . it wasn’t long before I started waging war. If it weren’t for those who told me that his words didn’t describe me, I may have actually believed them. I think it shows much more strength in character to be able to analyze your own reflection in the mirror before pointing a finger at others.  

Turn your gaze inward and grapple with your own shortcoming before pointing your finger at the rest of the world for the happiness you lack. This is part of the human experience.

“Things don’t go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be.”  - Charles Jones

So while I fought the negativity I directed only to myself, I fought equally as hard to find beauty in the world and do things that make me happy. I admit I had help, an amazing guy told me “Don’t be hard on you. Just get angry.” I don’t know why, but it worked. I felt angry for a couple of days and then it was as if the former boyfriend who delights in making me feel bad never existed . . . .and then he started telling my friends that I’m an alcoholic and that they should be looking for the signs.

Oh look! There I am again . . . .making bad decisions and being a horrible, selfish human being in general.

For Pete’s sake! Does he ever stop?! I finally told one person who was consistently relaying information to me that I didn’t want to hear what he was saying, whether it be good or bad. Problem solved. After the breakup between Mr. Finger Pointer and me, a friend told me that I have a tendency to let myself be talked into dating someone. I can see the validity of her point, I really can. However, saying that I’m consistently talked into things suggests that I can’t take responsibility for my own actions. I admit that I’ve been in plenty of relationships that I never cared to be in to begin with – I guess it’s because I didn’t think I deserved anything good in life. I’m beginning to move away from that and am trying to think more positively, particularly in regards to myself. Because I felt like a royal failure at practically everything, I told myself I just wasn't relationship material. Then Fate, the Universe, whatever it may be told me otherwise. I met someone that I can't picture life without. I've learned that these opportunities in life are rare and shouldn't be ignored.

Be on the watch. The gods will offer you chances. Know them. Take them.  - C. Bukowski

Things have been looking up. I have a new job and I met someone who I think is one of the most amazing human beings to enter my life. He has been my rock and if anyone were to ask him, he’d say I’m the most gorgeous, honest and amazing woman to have ever graced this part of the planet. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he argued me to be the best thing ever to have graced the earth. 

He reminds of the the qualities I can't see within myself.

Our first outing consisted of karaoke because I wanted to go and as a single female it’s poor judgment to go to a bar alone – even if you are only there to sing karaoke. After I belted out a couple of tunes, I started helping him sift through the list of songs. He tells me he only sings Rage Against the Machine. I found it for him. That’s when he said, “Okay. I don’t really sing karaoke. I just wanted to get you out.” Granted, I’ve been lied to plenty by men trying to get my attention – but I thought that was perhaps the most creative. For the record, I’m glad he did it.

One of my favorite memories: Getting stuck in the down pour with you. There was no where else on earth I'd rather be.

I wouldn’t say that we’re inseparable, but I can hardly stand to be away from him. He described what’s taking place between us as a whirlwind. I suppose it is. We both feel it – some inexplicable and very strong attraction that matches the connection we share. I’ve attempted to put into words what’s taken place the past couple of weeks and I still come up empty. All I can say is this, “Wow.”

 He challenges me to be a better person and recognize my own self worth. He calls me his muse. I’m honored. I was beginning to think I would never see this side of myself again . . . the capacity to feel so deeply was lost on me for a while. If one is counting the span of time, the conclusion would be that I barely know him, yet I feel as if I’ve known him my entire life. I feel as if he and I have spent thousands of lifetimes together.

"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lover's don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along." - Rumi

My tendency is to hold my breath and expect the worst: the goodness will come crashing down on me, fade away and I will have ruined yet another beautiful thing in my life. For now, I’m breathing in each moment. I’m not afraid.

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” -Buddha