december 24, 2009

a winged heart

Current mood: blessed

I had a dream last night and it has me reeling.

I got to rest my very weary head in the arms of my love. I needed him. I needed that safe, soft place. Tender, loved and I fell asleep for a short time. But it was long enough for me to fall into a deep sleep and dream. I dreamed of a specific image that has been haunting me lately. The image was being painted, not by me or anyone that I knew but I was a voyeur in the dream, watching it being painted. And as this mystery person was painting, in my head I *heard* a poem that I know by heart.

When I was 15, my best friend gave me a collection of writings by Kahlil Gibran. It moved me and continues to resonate with me all these years later. As a young woman, I would study those pages, knew all of the writings by heart. This particular poem speaks beautifully to the gratitude of loving. It sways me and makes me soar. I have not read it in many years but for some reason, there it was last night. Word for word.

But this image, it’s something that has been haunting me. Dark, unedited, raw. Raymond Pettibon, Winged Heart…A somewhat universal symbol but it can be interpreted in so many different ways. Pettibon was familiar to me. He is an icon for a very specific generation of artists. His work can be emotional, expressive but is often simply graphic and elemental.

I became aware of this particular piece for several reasons. An edited version is used on the cover of a Foo Fighters album, and we all know I’m a Dave Grohl junkie. But it is also adorning my true love’s arm thanks to a beautifully crafted Italian tattoo. Although it’s representation, this heart with wings, can take on many familiar meanings, I had not been able to figure out exactly what it held for me.

Now I could have dreamed of these two distinctive parts of my subconscious for many reasons. It could be something as simple as being so physically and emotionally exhausted that I put them together, with no real meaning behind their joining. It could be because I was wrapped in this sweet man’s arms where this version of Pettibon’s imagine lay. But for some reason I just don’t buy it.

Instead I feel like I finally understand. I feel dizzy yet decidedly focused. So this holiday, I am thankful. Thankful for so very many things and people in my life. But I am especially thankful that my heart is soaring and that I have the freedom to let it go. I can’t wait to see where it takes me.


To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.

- Kahlil Gibran

december 20, 2009

this old house

Current mood: thoughtful

The double edged sword, Catch-22, robbing Peter to pay Paul, it all comes with a price. I have to pay the price and the price is my house, my sweet, sweet house.

In many regards I am more than ready to move on with my life as a single, divorced mother of two. The idea of having my own home, even in the form of a temporary apartment, is exciting. No maintenance, no lawn to mow and some room to finally breathe deeply. It has me bursting with possibilities. It’s a welcome relief to my weary mind and body. I have longed for this day. Dreamed of being out of this marriage that has never fulfilled me the way I hoped it might some 12 years ago. To be comfortable in my own skin again, or perhaps for the first time in my life, is something I long for and now have within my reach.

Everyday I feel stronger, more confident that I can handle the stress and burdens that are associated with all of these decisions. I take nothing lightly, leave no stone unturned and I’m preparing, planning, strategizing and getting my ducks in a row. I look forward to getting back out in the real world, with a real job (gulp) and real responsibilities. I feel ready, even if I’m not.

As badly as I want it, as much as I want this to be done and over with, for the divorce papers to be signed, sealed, and delivered, it will not come quickly or without a price. The price is something I have been aware of from day one but Mark is making it, well, far more expensive. He has raised the price.

He has refused to leave our home of 9 years. He simply doesn’t want to and so he will not leave. He’s a stubborn fucking bastard. Granted, he has every right to be here, as do I, but I have given him many valid reasons why he should leave and I should stay. I won’t go into it. Instead I’m well on my way to moving out. With the help of my parents cosigning an agreement with me, because Mark refused to help, I will be in a new home by the end of the month.

But I am sad. I am disappointed. I am in mourning. My sweet little house on a sweet little street in a sweet little neighborhood will no longer be my home. Legally, yes, but it will never be my “home” again. Granted, it represents years of being in a loveless marriage with the wrong man but there have been good things along the way. I have been pregnant in this house, experienced motherhood in this house, experienced laughter and goofiness and kindness in this house, explored the depth of love that I have for these two beautiful children and rediscovered myself. It has been with me the last 9 years of my life. I have poured myself into every nook and cranny. Every wall has been painted, every fan hung, fixture installed, floor refinished, board replaced, corner cleaned has all been done at my hand. I have crawled in attic spaces, I have refinished original 1944 hardware, and I have planed doors so they will close more easily. I have been under the house installing water lines, re-plumbing, rewiring and redoing everything with love and care. My love and care has gone into this house. It is truly my house.

Now I will walk away from all of the love I’ve given to this old girl. I am walking away from the potential in this sweet little bungalow. All the plans, ideas, sketches that have been drawn in my head over the years, the additions, the remodeling that I have dreamed of doing, they will not come to fruition. I will not be the one to see the potential in this house come to life. I will miss the creaky floors, the drafty windows, the texture of the walls and the way the light comes through the oaks. It is, however, just a house. It’s a simple little piece of the pie but it was my piece of the pie.

But it’s a price I’m willing to pay. It appears to be the price of my well being, my peace of mind and my resurgence, independence and love. It’s the beginning of the end that can only lead to new and wonderful things. It’s time to say goodbye and good luck to the old girl. Good luck sweet house. I leave you with my love. I will mourn you but I will never forget the wonderful things you have given me in return, especially this new beginning.

december 16, 2009

i'm anxious for a shower curtain Current mood: focused

and then it's up down, left, right, dodge, curl, wipe, sweep, under, over, thrust and pull. talk about having multiple personalities! jeezus-age-christ (dad still says this all the time) i am confused as to who is walking in and out of this house. and to think that just a few short weeks ago he was accusing me of being bipolar. pot...kettle....black.

emotions have run the gamete since the days following thanksgiving (to be expected but still a royal pain in my arse). he has been passionately in love with me and wanting nothing more than to have me run into his arms saying i'm sorry and that everything will work out just fine. the next minute he looks as if he could kill me right then and there. and then, after he's gone from one extreme to the other, he is willing to sit, talk and consider being civil. and i thought i was hot and cold.

i won't go into details about all of the hurtful, accusatory and unflattering things he has said to me or about me. i admit, it gets to me. he has been far more cruel than i ever imagined and i am still reeling from disbelief but i'm starting to sober up to the fact that i have to play hardball with the prick that i call my husband. most of what he has said is unfounded, untrue and irrational. however, he has brought up some issues that are most certainly true and have hurt him on a very real level. for those things, i am sorry. truly sorry.

to make a long story short, or a short story long, i'm moving out! seriously. it's really happening. no more hiding, worry, stepping on toes, nope. i'm hitting the road!!!

i am being the bigger person on this one and moving out of our home. i'm not giving it to him and have made that very, very clear. instead i am making a decision to move forward and out of a volatile situation. i should preface it by stating that i met with my attorney yesterday, began the divorce proceedings and will be serving mark with official divorce papers after christmas. this step alone was a huge load off my mind. then i got uberlucky by finding a wonderful new bachelorette pad!

it's a lovely, quiet, well loved condo/apartment just 1.2 miles from the house and directly across the street from my daughter's elementary school. i saw the apartment today and i'm super, super impressed and i believe i have fairly high standards so that's saying a bunch. some say i'm spoiled but i consider it selective ;) it's beautiful, everything that i need (roomy, private, safe), everything that i don't need (yard, maintenance, worry) and i find myself excited to be moving in after a few weeks prep time. likely i will be setup and ready to roll between christmas and new years. mark is on board with this plan and seems relieved that i will be leaving soon. i think deep down that he will be happier in the end and he knows it, just isn't ready to admit it.

i will be able to set up a life for myself outside of these walls. in a few short weeks, independence, freedom and responsibility. my own goddamn responsibility and i can't wait. oh, how i love my little house and it's walls but they represent so many limitations for me. i have spent 9 out of nearly 12 years of marriage in this house and walking away from it will be difficult. i was pregnant with my daughter when we moved in, both children know nothing but this house as their home and they love it here. despite all the wonderful things, the memories that i've made here with my children, i am taking a positive step by walking away from an unbalanced life. an unbalanced and skewed sense of self. my skin has never fit well here and it's time to change that. i actually feel incredibly lucky to have the chance to change. without change there is no growth, without growth there is no personal discovery and without discovery, no change.

so my eyes are open, my head is swirling with planning, strategy, research and excitement. the packing, the money involved, the furnishings, the list of to-do's and to-buy's. and as i make my mental checklist of shit that has to get done (on top of having a nice christmas), i am reminded of the first time i moved into my very own place. the first thing i did was put up the shower curtain. weird but ever since that first little apartment in savannah when i was just 18, i have done the same thing. even did it when we moved into this house. so i look forward to opening up that new shower curtain, painstakingly hanging it one hook at a time while i stand on my tippy toes and taking a deep breath of that sweet freshly unfolded vinyl. lovingly laying down white bath rugs and hanging freshly laundered towels. that's when i know i'll be safe. when i can smell the vinyl. then i'll be home.

december 14, 2009

The monsters in the closet are real....

Current mood: bullied

I’ve come to realize a few things in my short 37 years. Trust me on this one. This list will undoubtedly bore some of you and if it does, well, fuck you. Sorry, I’m in a punchy mood tonight and just can't tolerate any more bullshit. I’m knee deep in it at home and tired of the stench.

These little thoughts are probably nothing profound or significant to anyone besides me. Hell, I don’t know that they hold much importance to me either but they sound good to me right now. I’m likely looking like a serious tool. Could be the Monday evening cocktails that aren't generally part of my repetoire. Just gonna blame it on the booze....

But right now I’m trying to ground myself, reinvent my belief system, rediscover, recharge, regroup and this is a good distraction. It’s called the human experience, perception, reality, proportionate upon your unique circumstances. My own circumstances are currently, well, fucked in a really fucking fucked up fucking way. Profanity makes my tongue happy.

So I’ve taken it upon myself to come up with a list of the few things of which I feel confident. Most are just silly musings but, well, I’m feeling quirky and need a good belly laugh.

Without further ado or wavering…

1. On a deep down level, I am scared of myself. There are times that I feel like I can’t handle myself so how will anyone else?

2. I fucking love peanut butter. When I drink a wee bit too much, feel my blood sugar plummet or when it’s Africa hot outside (I know, weird right) I grab a large spoon, dig into that jar and walk around with what my family refers to as a peanut butter spoon. Apparently I have been doing this since I was a toddler and still find myself revert to it in times of peanut butter crisis.

3. Tanning is not and never will be a part of my existence.

4. Never say never…..except for the tanning.

5. I cannot turn off my brain, ever. I remember even as a young child sitting up at night thinking of hair brained ideas and lists of “to do’s”. As I’ve become older, it has lead to a great deal of debilitating anxiety. Good news is that I’m starting to mellow out a bit thanks to a certain someone who has shown me that doing one thing at a time, doing it well and doing it with your all is most certainly a lovely way to approach life.

6. I dream in color. Always in vivid, touchable color.

7. If you cross me, truly cross me with malicious intent, I will forgive you but will not be crossed again.

8. IOU’s don’t mean shit to me and I take them as words with no merit. Shit or get off the pot! I have things to do.

9. I am cautiously optimistic but miss my youthful, full on, electrifying optimism.

10. I don’t give myself enough credit where credit is due. Instead, I have a knack for undermining and demeaning self dialogue.

11. Art = Me

12. The monsters in the closet are real. You just don’t see them until they are backed into a corner. Then they are far worse than anything you could imagine.

13. It is safe to say that my sexual response system is in overdrive 24/7. I am 37 so it could be related to my “sexual peak”. However, I am of the belief that I am simply a sexually charged person and have learned to embrace it. Also helps having a yummy man to take along for the ride…no pun intended!

14. Love is real and attainable.

15. Marriage is not about compromise or unconditional love. It’s about many things but those two things are simply illusions to help us sleep better at night.

16. Music moves me and I’m envious of folks who can make it so naturally, freely, organically.

17. I am not for sale.

december 5 - no more dancing for me, thanks.

hanging up the dancing shoes
Current mood:  confident

where have you been all these years?

your kind, sweet, gentle love. your compliments and compromise. you give it freely today. like a spigot that can't be turned off. i am perfect in your eyes. you are supportive and kind, tender with your words. today you are the person i fell in love with so many years ago. today you are the person i hoped i would be with for the rest of my life. fred astaire, is that you?

days like today, when you have tender eyes and warm humor, i question if this is right. am i doing the right thing by leaving 14 years with you behind? i question how i ever stopped loving you. i question if you are truly where i need to be. i question my desires for something more than what you can afford me. i question it all. your familiarity, your willingness to make things right is so strong. i can taste you, see you, feel you, hear you. i put up ornaments on the tree and they remind me of a time and place with you. you will do anything to convince me that you are something you are not. you will do anything to convince yourself that i am the only thing you want. you will do everything to convince me that i am better off with you than without you.

well, i don't need your apathy. i don't need it. i don't want it. the pain is too great and too real. it was born long ago and cannot be contained. i can't be contained. i don't hate you. truth be told, i love you very much. that's why it's so hard. but i resent you. i resent your tireless efforts to make things right long after they were wrong. i am tired of arguing my way through life with someone who doesn't respect my opinions. doesn't respect me. doesn't respect my decisions or my passion.

that's precisely who i am. passion incarnate and you know what? i've always been more than you can handle. i'm more than i can handle most of the time and i like it. i am full, ready, overflowing and intense. and fuck you. fuck you for not being able to see that excess within me is good. the excess in me is beautiful, happy, hot, flickering, explosive, creative, and somewhat unpredictable. i am just fine, just perfectly perfect the way i am. dare i say that i fucking rock? oh yeah, i went there.

leave this other persona of yours alone. i don't know where he's been all these years. i do find him to be quite enjoyable, lovable, just what i always wanted from you but i've fallen for it too many times. it's a lovely little dance you do, mr. astaire,  and i enjoy watching but please don't ask me to dance. i'm not ginger rogers anymore.

december 4 - elvis has left the building

elvis has left the building
Current mood:  disappointed

the mass hysteria, the chaos, the adrenaline. all waiting for something big to happen. waiting for elvis to step out into the lobby where he signs adoring fans pictures, swivels those hips and does a few "thank you very much"s while women swoon. but it's that anticipation, the not knowing when he's coming through the door. not the actually person they are excited about. yes, elvis personifies it but it could be the beetles or joe schmo for that matter. hell, you give jo schmo enough credit and he too can become faint worthy.

well guess what folks. elvis has left my building and i'm disappointed. he was most certainly in the building at some point but he's now hit the road. oh yeah, the idea, the general concept of leaving my marriage had me on pins and needles. when, where, how, is it right, is it wrong, what will happen next. all questions without answers and they had my head lit up. virtually on fire. and there's nothing more exciting than waking yourself up with the possibilities of what could be, what will be, what won't be any longer, the good and the bad. it's a rush.

and then it happens. the bottom falls out. the reality of these decisions, these decisions that are all yours come to fruition. and sometimes things go precisely the way you thought they would. people react in a way that you expected them to respond. sometimes they go in a polar opposite direction and you are shocked and disappointed. sometimes they go no where at all and you find yourself stuck, trapped more than before. so are things working out the way i saw it in my head? fuck no. don't even really know what that looked like to begin with but this, this is not what i thought it would be.

i am ill prepared. i am not ready for what is to come. the idea of turning around and trying to get out the magic marriage eraser is so very appealing. going back to the safe place, even though it was never safe to begin with, is at the forefront of my mind. nothing is certain except what i already know. and what i know is not at all fulfilling, but i know what to expect. and right now, it would be nice to know what's waiting for me around the corner instead of being cautiously optimistic or cleverly paranoid.

so here i am. i am surrounded by people who love me, people who hate me, people who don't understand me, people who want the best for me but can't give it to me, people who want to be with me but can't because it's just too complicated. life outside of my own little world is complicated. it's devastating on all fronts. nothing is as it seems and everything is exactly the way it appears. the ups, the downs, the heartbreak, the uncertainty, the sadness, the push for something more. the irony boggles my mind.

it's all happening for a reason, right now, but let me tell you something. it's breaking me. it's breaking me into a million little jagged pieces today and i'm just not sure how to put them back together. i question if i have it in myself to put it back together. my heart breaks and i find myself lonely, lonelier and more empty than i have been in a very long time. my body aches for something but i don't know for what and it certainly seems that my soul is just a little less comfortable in my own body.

i know i'll look back on this blog, on all the entries but this one in particular, and i will remember exactly how i feel right this minute. and it does not feel good. this too shall pass and i know i'm someone who survives and perseveres. really, i do know that deep down this is painful but part of a greater picture that will be worth the initial wounds.

but right now, i'm pretty pissed that elvis left through the back door. left his waiting fans out here in the cold, without even so much as a grind of his hips. rock stars always disappoint.

december 1....day 2 down!

mama bear is awake
Current mood:  loved

Well smack my ass and call me sally! I can only compare the last two days to feeling as if someone has given me the longest, most agonizing swirly in history! Swoosh…..

 

I am knee deep in this battle that we call divorce. I know he is hurt, feels betrayed, scared, but some of the things he has said, the way in which he has spoken to me, surprise me. That I’m a horrible wench who simply wants to sleep around, spend his money and ignore our children. I don’t believe the words but there is no denying that they sting and are wearing away at my exterior.

 

However, I’m not here to talk about Mark and his behavior right now. I have decided to give him the night off. See, I am not a bitch. I am actually being very generous. Instead, his hateful, mean demeanor has brought about something that I didn’t know was there.

 

Acceptance. A bond. A bond with my mother.

 

Up until this point, she has not been easy to approach. We are very close but she isn’t the most touchy feely warm and cuddly style mom. We are polar opposites that way. Instead, she has been hesitant, somewhat judgmental and all around, well, kind of an unsupportive bitch. She is not one to mince words. A lovely woman but tough as nails and doesn’t take shit from anyone.

 

I told her today about everything that has been happening. Granted, she has known all along that my marriage was in trouble but I had kept the *affair* a guarded secret until today. Not only was she incredibly understanding, but she was pissed that he had used such strong words with me. When she heard that he wanted me to leave, instead of him being the gentlemen and moving out, she was fucking livid! That mama cub came out and she had her claws fully drawn and ready for a fight. Made me feel good to know she was there to protect me, whether I need her to be or not.

 

After I calmed her down and reassured her that I would be going back to the house and fighting him on this one, she revealed something I never thought possible. You see, my parents were divorced when I was the same age as my daughter is currently. They had been married roughly the same amount of time. They divorced quickly but they remarried less than 1 year later. Crazy, I know but being divorced was a mistake for them and they realized very, very quickly that they were indeed good partners, and partners for life.

 

The catalyst, the thing that drove the biggest wedge between them was a love affair. My mom was having an affair. What the…..I picked my jaw up off the floor and we continued the conversation for quite some time. She never loved this other man. He was simply a distraction and my father was never angry about it. He didn’t blame her. He knew he was a lousy husband and wanted to do something to make it right. And he did. However, that’s where our paths diverge. Not only did she not love this other man, my dad was willing, truly willing, to be what she needed. What she wanted.

 

Instead, Mark continues to point a finger, looking for someone else to carry the blame. Yes, I had an affair. I’m still having an affair. Hell, I’m madly, passionately in love in a way I didn’t believe was possible. Moreover, I love this freedom to be myself, open, truly open with him. I am indeed sorry that it came down to “another man” in his eyes.  

 

That is not why my marriage is over. It is over because it was never an honest to goodness marriage of two people. Instead, I made an enormous mistake by giving up my identity to suit his. He’s to blame; I’m to blame but no one else. He will never admit that part of our failure lies within him. My father admitted it. He worked on it and you know what. I have so much respect for him. And for my mom to admit to me what must have been a very difficult time in her life, I am so thankful, so connected to her.  

 

So I find myself accepted. Hated by my husband, loved passionately by the right man, and accepted by a woman I felt judged me until right this minute.

 

I was so very, very wrong. I’m everything she is, and more.