Astrology 101: WHAT IS VIRGO LIKE? Virgos are the problem solvers of the world. This sign has the patience, analytical ability and mental tenacity to sort out the obstacles that would stop other people. Virgos take the necessary time to find the solutions. When most people would be throwing up their hands in defeat, Virgo is just getting started. They are the great improvers of the zodiac, always thinking of ways to make things better. Some would say that Virgo is critical, though the criticisms they offer are usually intended to be constructive. In an effort to be helpful, they point out the details that others don't see. This sign has a reputation for being freakishly neat and tidy. Indeed, many an organization gives credit to a Virgo for keeping the group on point and moving forward in a logical and efficient way. They are often leaders who demonstrate their leadership by leading themselves with integrity and discipline. The area of health, fitness and nutrition is one where Virgos shine. They have a natural affinity for living things and find it easy to nurture growth in others. Many Virgos have a green thumb, as well!
[that kinda makes me want to blow my fucking head clean off]
Monday, September 29, 2014
I send heart energy down my arms across his back. I think recoiling, I’d hate to have my hands elsewhere or another’s hands on me, some(one)
stranger, and I wonder if I’m projecting that or if in fact he sexually abused
himself from May-July.
I know one thing for sure: I was (am) an integrated
self-possessed adult, and yet I am a kind of shattered after just one big
helping. What does a steady diet of
take-backsies love and intimate manipulation do to the mind of a child and across
the arc of a lifetime? When I think
about it that way, it’s a wonder to me that he never committed suicide (more).
Thursday, September 25, 2014
VIRGO TODAY: "You'll say goodbye to a fantasy and come to accept that there really is no happily ever after — only a happy today over and over for as long as you decide to be happy."
To a word, that's almost exactly what my shrink said to me yesterday. Which to a Virgo looks like the most daunting of tasks EVER. What does it even mean? What is happy without some pursuit of an Ideal stirred into it? Happy is having Faith. And Faith comes into my existence materially in my relation to others, where it is tried and proven. Making pesto is a spiritual practice. Or so I believe(d). But. I put too much Faith in Aaron, not in the sense that he failed me but in the sense that I located my own Faith in another too much and I don't know how not to do that. I know (believe) that what people call God is actually indwelling, it is at the base of ourselves a little portal through which we are suffused with Everything more or less to the degree we can keep that open, the 'transparent eyeball'. And yet in practice, my own portal lies elsewhere inside others, outside my own control. I can control it when I am alone but then after a while it feels about the size of a peehole in the snow. Is that a problem of motherhood? Of loverhood? Of idealized friendship? (Am I just retarded?) (I'm probably just retarded.)
"You decide how you will feel. Not him." What am I? The Dali Fucking Lama? I don't think so. "You know it's true. I'm not making excuses for him or letting him off the hook of work. But torturing yourself is a choice you're making." (And I think about my thinking, how the sound of his pants coming off then hitting the floor and the belt buckle clangs on the tile, that familiar sound sequence sends a wave of sickgrief washing over me, his hands about to be on someone else in my head, the time it took him to unbuckle are the seconds in which he might have thought of me and stopped instead...it's true, I'm making that up and torturing myself with it...hotel rooms are carpeted anyway...) I don't know how to stop. "You're rushing a grief process, which is only going to prolong it; accept your grief as grief, pure and simple, it doesn't have to take any other shape of thought, you don't have to put it in order so you can put it away."
OK so today is today. I'm going to make one of my sister's recipes for a late dinner with Aaron, which for me will only tangentially have anything to do with food as such, though the degree to which I will take care to make it come out delicious will be the degree to which I am drawing love/strength from my sister into me through that process, and the degree to which I will be deciding to be happy today pouring my love materially into Aaron and feeling good that it's there working it's way through his guts. I'm still not sure how to make that an "exchange of parity" (?), but I suppose I could at least be more transparent. From now on, the answer to the daily question "what's for dinner?" is: Idealization, it's what's for dinner. (Or pizza.)
To a word, that's almost exactly what my shrink said to me yesterday. Which to a Virgo looks like the most daunting of tasks EVER. What does it even mean? What is happy without some pursuit of an Ideal stirred into it? Happy is having Faith. And Faith comes into my existence materially in my relation to others, where it is tried and proven. Making pesto is a spiritual practice. Or so I believe(d). But. I put too much Faith in Aaron, not in the sense that he failed me but in the sense that I located my own Faith in another too much and I don't know how not to do that. I know (believe) that what people call God is actually indwelling, it is at the base of ourselves a little portal through which we are suffused with Everything more or less to the degree we can keep that open, the 'transparent eyeball'. And yet in practice, my own portal lies elsewhere inside others, outside my own control. I can control it when I am alone but then after a while it feels about the size of a peehole in the snow. Is that a problem of motherhood? Of loverhood? Of idealized friendship? (Am I just retarded?) (I'm probably just retarded.)
"You decide how you will feel. Not him." What am I? The Dali Fucking Lama? I don't think so. "You know it's true. I'm not making excuses for him or letting him off the hook of work. But torturing yourself is a choice you're making." (And I think about my thinking, how the sound of his pants coming off then hitting the floor and the belt buckle clangs on the tile, that familiar sound sequence sends a wave of sickgrief washing over me, his hands about to be on someone else in my head, the time it took him to unbuckle are the seconds in which he might have thought of me and stopped instead...it's true, I'm making that up and torturing myself with it...hotel rooms are carpeted anyway...) I don't know how to stop. "You're rushing a grief process, which is only going to prolong it; accept your grief as grief, pure and simple, it doesn't have to take any other shape of thought, you don't have to put it in order so you can put it away."
OK so today is today. I'm going to make one of my sister's recipes for a late dinner with Aaron, which for me will only tangentially have anything to do with food as such, though the degree to which I will take care to make it come out delicious will be the degree to which I am drawing love/strength from my sister into me through that process, and the degree to which I will be deciding to be happy today pouring my love materially into Aaron and feeling good that it's there working it's way through his guts. I'm still not sure how to make that an "exchange of parity" (?), but I suppose I could at least be more transparent. From now on, the answer to the daily question "what's for dinner?" is: Idealization, it's what's for dinner. (Or pizza.)
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
“You know what a relationship is about to you. The other person
has an entirely different set of reasons for being there.”
I’m on this committee (of course I am, one of a billion) with
this guy I’ve known for forever. We’ve
worked together about 15 years, in various capacities, and the trajectory of
our inner lives have been parallel in many ways. I did yoga certs, he did Reiki. We both have been quasi-Buddhist practitioners
inside other belief systems, eclectic God+Energy theories self-invented systems
of thinking, and failing, and rethinking. I took his head off this morning over
something I don’t even care that much about.
Then he walked onto the elevator, the doors shut, he said “What’s up?”
and I said “My husband left me….for starters…” and then he blew off his next
meeting to kill lunch with me and listen.
Without judgment. With
discernment.
I cannot fully express how grateful I felt for that. So I won’t try.
He understands things about me that most of my other friends
just don’t. Examples: when I brush my teeth for two minutes or not, that is a spiritual
discipline that I am either failing (usually) or succeeding to hold myself to,
and to that end, I brush my teeth in the shower, then feel guilty (I should be
able to do it without the comfort of warm water), then fail anyway (always in a
hurry, and I also just flat out forget in the lull of the warm water) and feel
worse, then buy an egg timer and take into the shower, then it gets wet and it
stops working and I think “serves me right”; when I fill up my car with gas, I
am always irritated by the now missing holder thingy that all gas stations have
removed from their pumps because of theft drive-offs and so I’m stuck outside
holding the damn thing, and I admonish myself every time for my irritation at
that, and I say a prayer for the world, since it wouldn’t be like that if there
hadn’t been more and more theft of gas, which is a clusterfuck of class warfare
and climate slaughter, so the least I can do is pump and pray; I could go on
like this all day. Every minute of every
day has a spiritual choice in it (that I am usually failing), and I am aware of
that always, and am trying not to be an energy-asshole. The main ethical challenge for me is being energy-charitable
with my spirit. Because if I am not able
to do what Tom did for me today, such as be at peace in the face of pain and
thus spiritually generous, then I have failed.
That’s how my mind works. And, I am now an Almost Entirely Failed
Spiritual State.
So, what IS a relationship about to me? To help me to not spiritually fail, to be able to give and expect nothing and thus to get by virtue only of the other person's capacity for what they can give or not regardless also. But in that case, it’s a prayer/spell for
strength. And ya know what wanting more
strength gets you from God? A kick in
the face, that’s what. And I’m out of
wanting to be Better. I want the other
person to want to be Better. I want them
to WANT that, the work of it. And I’ll
be the challenge now. Stop telling me what you need, what you’ve
needed, how you didn’t get it, how I’ve failed. I got that part. You, you pick ME up. Every time you think “Gina could have given
me” or “I wanted such-n-such from Gina”, reverse it. For a while.
For a spell. I want to be your
cross to bear for a change. We can
switch back later, when I’m not mother fucking everything into the ground deep
down where my spirit is broken and I can’t pray the pain away any fucking
more. And as is obvious from the Sams
Club post alone, I’m not just in pain over Aaron. There is a mountain of shitty in me I’ve climbed weighted down, by others’ disappointments in me, real and projected and compounded
and heavy. As have we all, I know. But I
cannot carry any more or climb any higher without help. So unless you’re bringing help, you should
probably write me off, I’m not salvageable nor can I manage sorry-more.
And while we’re at it, for the record, it pisses me off that I’m
pissed off. A lot. Because I’m long sick of outrage. I don’t care if it’s justified or not. And no
I don’t understand it better if you scream/beat it into me. (Think: T-bone) And now I am outraged. And I hate that in anyone, including me.
Over Fucking Come It, I think. At
myself too. And I don’t know how. And you’re probably not going to help me,
obviously, the pissed leading the pissed (hurt
leading the hurt, whatever, choose your lame-o-phrasing).
This is more than the loss of a lover, we’ve all had lovers and
lost them, Tom says. Yes. It’s more than a husband, you’ve lost that
before. Yes. It’s a friend
too, someone who really saw all of you (and rejected it). Yes. And
you’ve felt that before, too? Yess. That’s
a thing. Yes. And family.
Yes. And on top of all that, a
child too, the one thing you could always get solace from, but not this time.
Yes. It’s a complete pain. Yes. And you’d never invest this much again. NO, hell no, it’s this or I’m OUT. Wow.
Yea. So what would he have to
do? (Sigh.) Not want us to be happy more
than he wants me to be whole again (or himself whole for that matter); I want him
to save me, or at least want to, truly, not just as a way to get something out
of it but regardless, the way you
would have to STOP and pick someone up off the road before you could drive on,
no matter what, not because of the consequences or any ulterior extrinsic
motivators, but out of some higher more compelling JUST BECAUSE the occasion
calls for it; I mean, he has not made me happier than he has cost me effort,
all along, and THAT made me Happy because it made me feel Good, “loving even
when tried” typa deal, and I was passing the test for once (I thought, anyway, wrongly [she says bitterly]). And you don’t want to be Good now, you want
to be happy, or something? Kinda, I
mean, you made me unhappy this morning, so I bit your head off. (hahahahahahahaha) Right. Right; and
ultimately, I don’t want that, I don’t want to think like that, honestly (I don’t
want have the brain I have currently whatsoever!), I don’t need to be happy all
the time, I’m not in a relationship to be unhappy but I’m not in it to be happy
either, and I am pretty content with difficulty occasioning personal growth and
all that fucking shit, buuuut not at the moment (hahahahhahaha/cry). Right :/ I don’t know what to do with this juncture of
my spiritual journey, and if I can’t talk about it that way, I can’t talk about
it all, and I can't translate it into another paradigm,
either, and in fact I think that I will
not. Right :/
hear fear |
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Friday, September 19, 2014
Thursday, September 18, 2014
"I am often questioning myself what I further want to do, who I further wish to be; which parts of me, exactly, are still functioning properly. No answers, darling. At all."
--Anne Sexton, Self-Portrait in Letters
Couldn't have put it better. Which is probably one of the many reasons why I'm not Anne fucking Sexton. But I do know one thing: NO parts of me are functioning (what I would consider) PROPERLY.
--Anne Sexton, Self-Portrait in Letters
Couldn't have put it better. Which is probably one of the many reasons why I'm not Anne fucking Sexton. But I do know one thing: NO parts of me are functioning (what I would consider) PROPERLY.
Upside to everything, no place to go but up |
This Woman Took A Photo Of Herself Every Day For A Year. I Was In Tears When I Saw The Last One.
This Woman Took A Photo Of Herself Every Day For A Year. I Was In Tears When I Saw The Last One.
I feel the anti-selfie mojo, especially all that include anything in the conceptual neighborhoods of jello-shots or 'look at how well adjusted I am!', but if we could take pics of our insides, it might look like that. It might look like pictures of your abdomen pregnant then not then your spirit bruised. It might be useful to be able to SEE it, whatever it is, if only you could, so you'd be able to. To see.
I feel the anti-selfie mojo, especially all that include anything in the conceptual neighborhoods of jello-shots or 'look at how well adjusted I am!', but if we could take pics of our insides, it might look like that. It might look like pictures of your abdomen pregnant then not then your spirit bruised. It might be useful to be able to SEE it, whatever it is, if only you could, so you'd be able to. To see.
She didn't tell him she'd known any mud engineers before or about the one she'd heard was killed by a pressurized hose. The hose had shot up into his stomach from underground.
The thought of that death, although she'd only been half acquainted with the man, always put a panicky, dry lump in her throat. It was the hose, she thought, snaking up suddenly from its unseen nest, the idea of that hose striking like a live thing, that was fearful. With one blast it had taken out his insides. And that too made her throat ache, although she'd heard of worse things. It was that moment, the one moment, of realizing you were totally empty. He must have felt that. Sometimes, alone in her room in the dark, she thought she knew what it might be like. -Louise Erdrich, Love Medicine
I keep trying to get it together. To think rightly. But maybe I should empty out. I can't think at all anymore around this thinking I've got going. It's in my way.
The thought of that death, although she'd only been half acquainted with the man, always put a panicky, dry lump in her throat. It was the hose, she thought, snaking up suddenly from its unseen nest, the idea of that hose striking like a live thing, that was fearful. With one blast it had taken out his insides. And that too made her throat ache, although she'd heard of worse things. It was that moment, the one moment, of realizing you were totally empty. He must have felt that. Sometimes, alone in her room in the dark, she thought she knew what it might be like. -Louise Erdrich, Love Medicine
I keep trying to get it together. To think rightly. But maybe I should empty out. I can't think at all anymore around this thinking I've got going. It's in my way.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
http://trauma.blog.yorku.ca/2013/12/love-is-war-post-infidelity-stress-disorder-2/
it's 4:30 in the morning (again). guess I'm at the 'hypervigilant' stage. and I don't see how I'm going to past it according to that treatment criteria, since you'd need to be able to know and discuss the actual simple truths in the first place in order to 'cognitively restructure' them, no? but we don't do that. I hunt what truths down that I can and (painfully) make up the rest, both solitary (lonely) activities essentially
it's 4:30 in the morning (again). guess I'm at the 'hypervigilant' stage. and I don't see how I'm going to past it according to that treatment criteria, since you'd need to be able to know and discuss the actual simple truths in the first place in order to 'cognitively restructure' them, no? but we don't do that. I hunt what truths down that I can and (painfully) make up the rest, both solitary (lonely) activities essentially
Monday, September 15, 2014
Ah Facebook philosophizing. Words to not possibly live by, all day long, with and without cats and cartoons. Why would this be true? Wouldn't that be the first step towards realizing 'hey you're not just an asshole you're bath-shit crazy TOO!, as if just an asshole weren't bad enough!!'
:/ my mother-in-law is coming back from Mexico today. It's enough to make me want to sell Aaron a car so he can get a head start on her, running for his life. So imagine, I stop in at my lawyer's office, a family friend who knows all about it all, and I'm asking um is there a contract type of car sale for a separated bankrupt spouse to legally bindingly buy a car from his jilted wife? And I'm thinking this is going to sound insane. But he's just, like, 'yea'.
No matter how bat-shit you go, there's a form of some kind to fill out for it ft. No matter what forms you fill out, there's no preventing the bat-shit you might go. Contracts, such as marriage, attempt to minimize collateral damage humans who "love" each other can do to each other. But they can very barely do that legally, and by definition not spiritually at all. They just give us all mostly false security. Trust me, if your life involves other people, you're not safe from the harm they can inflict on you if they choose to, no matter what. You should probably not even trust your mother (unless she's dead) (maybe).
. . . a rebel without a cause, an agitator without a slogan, a revolutionary without a program: in other words, his rebelliousness is aimed to achieve goals satisfactory to himself alone; he is incapable of exertions for the sake of others. All his efforts, hidden under no matter what disguise, represent investments designed to satisfy his immediate wishes and desires . . . The psychopath, like the child, cannot delay the pleasures of gratification; and this trait is one of his underlying, universal characteristics.
--Robert Lindner
Rebel Without a Cause
One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. --Haruki Murakami
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
Yea. I'd venture that Aaron was raised by a psychopath. But really. I don't even know anymore. Not just what to think, but how. Let alone do. Which isn't up to me, anyway. I'm not much else at this point but altogether tired of having the shit shaken out of me. (Can you get shaken baby syndrome in adulthood? A: yes)
Bonus track
Rebel Without a Cause
One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. --Haruki Murakami
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
Yea. I'd venture that Aaron was raised by a psychopath. But really. I don't even know anymore. Not just what to think, but how. Let alone do. Which isn't up to me, anyway. I'm not much else at this point but altogether tired of having the shit shaken out of me. (Can you get shaken baby syndrome in adulthood? A: yes)
Bonus track
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
My shrink is a magician.
Literally, she also is a witch, a referral from the Witch otherwise I’d not
have gotten a slot with her. Like me,
she hides in plain sight, rolling what she is into what she does without any
attention to it more than that, booked solid at the poshy mental health suite
out by the university. But man, it is
true, a magician can work magic. I walk
in there just so fucked up and pissed off that I’m beyond adjectives, and I
walk out sane(r).
I want Aaron’s mother dead, gone, obliterated. Which is what she wanted for me, and thus I
know just like with anything hate, you become it, and now I am Maureen, which
SUCKS. It’s making me crazy-ass.
Meh, I hate my
mother-in-law too. She doesn’t really
matter anymore, he’s an adult. The
sooner you accept that, the sooner it’ll be true, and that will help make it true for him also. And she clearly hates herself, people who
love their own selves and their own lives don’t cripple their kids, so you’re
being redundant. She’s emotionally ill –
it helps nothing for you to become as ill and full of hate. You know that.
Ok, but HOW do I stop hating her? Cuz I rip her throat open
in my head, like, constantly…
I have a mother-in-law
and son-in-law who are my “lessons in patience”. Just set your boundaries and keep to
them. That’s sane. And when you start stabbing her to death in
your head, just remind yourself: “this is a lesson, it is to make me a better
person”. Keep doing that. Forever, it sounds
like. And when you have a really bad day
and act out, forgive yourself too, and go back to plan 'sane boundaries', repeat
repeat.
Ok but he has internalized her bullshit, and he wouldn’t
know a healthy boundary if it bit him in the ass…
Meh, that’s why he
needs you. And as long as that comes out
to be that you get things you need too, that you achieve equality in the end
and on the whole, you can mother him through that now – what’s so wrong with
that? You’re good at mothering things
through things, by all accounts. No?
Ok but he has all this crap hardwired in there, like he’s
homophobic at himself and doesn’t even know it, and lets it get under his skin
when they insinuate we are an “alternate lifestyle” and a baby on the other
hand is some hetero badge of real grown-up manhood whatever…
Meh, first of all, we
are all attracted to all kinds of people, and most humans are bisexual and need
to get over their weirdness about it, so that’s hardly rare. Plus, sexuality has nothing to do with
monogamy. Monogamy chooses A person, regardless, and character not sexuality determines fidelity. Plus if it were really a baby he HAD to have,
he’d not have chosen you in the first place, he’d have chosen someone
younger. Even if he half believes that
heteronormative shit, he must at least half know it’s also bullshit, so why not
believe him when he says YOU are what he wants? Working out the heteronormative
blackmail of his upbringing is his shit to deal with, not some truth you should
deign to fear.
Ok but Aaron can dissociate from his feelings, it’s scary as
fuck, it’s good for a critical care nurse maybe, but not in an intimate
relationship…
You’re right. Definitely .
BUT that could be good too, he can use the ability to dissociate from
his mother. And then once he recognizes
all the thoughts and self-doubts that aren’t actually his, he can dissociate
from them too. Every weakness is a
secret strength, you know that.
Ok but TJ hates Aaron, he just won’t relent at all, and I
don’t call him TJ for nothing, he is THE JUDGE…
Meh, we all get we
need for our soul on our Journey.
Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally to your son. So this is what he probably needs in the long
run. It won’t kill him to learn people
are fallible, and then later he won’t be so shocked when he is too. Tell him
that.
Ok but Aaron is paranoid, sexually PARANOID, which given
circumstances is insane first of all, and it drives me crazy, all he ever asks
is if I’m thinking about fucking so-n-so and until now he’s not been able to
even believe me and I’m still not sure he is able to trust, plus to be honest it’s BORING. I mean, I’m trying not to kill that cunt
mother of his in my head all day, not thinking about other dick, and if I could
think about something more interesting than either of those things, to whom
would I tell it? God damn it…
Meh, that’s your
fault. I mean, ok, his paranoia is not
good, and he has to get over it, but which again is HIS SHIT to deal with in
marriage counseling, that’s on him. What
would you rather talk about, about yourself?
Jesus, fuck, ANYTHING, like seriously any fucking thing that
grants that my inner life doesn’t exist just to hide terrible shit from him,
God fucking hell so irritating…
Ok then for every time
he needs to ask you if you fucked the plumber or whoever, he has to ask you
some other question too, about your inner life, one that is more interesting to
you. Again, you never TELL HIM WHAT YOU
WANT. How do you get to equality doing
that? You are the teacher of yourself to
him. We all are teachers of ourselves to
our partners. He did a terrible thing, but it taught you allllll about him now
didn’t it?
True enough, I guess, the fucking hardest way (armscrossy)…
What you both lack in
this relationship primarily is parity. You
need to be equals. You have such strong attraction to one
another, you know the Law of that, so you have what the other needs, but you
don’t know how to tell him what you need and balance those scales. That is YOUR SHIT to deal with.
Right. Right….
If you can do that,
and get to the other side of this mess, you’ll be best friends for the rest of
your lives. He needed to make all this shit visible so he could get past it,
his shit especially (granted), but you have some work to do here too. That’s all.
You think?...
Yes, I have a sense
that is so.
(exhaaaaaaaaaaale….)
I still want to see my mother-in-law nailed to a post in
the desert
(but I’m working on it) playlist:
I fucking love this song. Repeat repeat indeed.
(but I’m working on it) playlist:
And weirdly, I was NOT listening to the Django Unchained soundtrack when I took a shine to these tunes separately. I’m just in that mood, I guess, to scythe a (son of a) bitch’s head off (but I’m working on it). And they're great songs, so there's that.
Monday, September 08, 2014
"I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent."
Between rounds of shrink appointments, we just are. We float in the hot tub and talk. He hates therapy like he hated yoga, but just
like that is/was supposed to work, as the exertion pain ebbs the benefits flow,
and so in successive delays he absorbs them.
He says many times about various things, “I see it now”, and seems to
move through epiphanies at a steep rate.
It alarms me and heartens by turns.
I’m not sure. I want to be
building a life but still wonder if I’m just a way through to somewhere else
for him, that will not have been me and/but will not be the storyline that I
interrupted either. And he has learned
that “mostly” he “doesn’t know”, proven again and again by how much he is now
thinking “I didn’t know that about myself a minute ago”.
My own shrink appointment again looms, and I know she will
not be interested in any of that except in so far as it pertains to me. What am I doing here? With a man so unsure of himself that he
cannot (in good conscience) make commitments, can he? I can’t answer that question so much as
describe it: I’ve never felt so substantively present as I have with him,
except for the simple facts of my children, so like that he simply IS and when
he is not, it feels like mounting panic and I can’t stand it for forever. I can stand it for days, I withstood it for 7
weeks, but in the end, I reel him in and put my arms around him and becalm
myself. And I know that is not necessarily a safe
place to be. Aaron dealt me a blow that
was the most violent I’ve ever taken and withstood. It was violent. It was purposeful, selfish, conscienceless,
merciless, calculated and cruel. It gave
him a rush to do it, then sickened him, a sickness he then counteracted with a
rationalization that mimicked some higher moral duty to ‘his own family’, which
then sickened him again, until no matter how he thought about it and no matter
what he did in the day to sustain it, the truth was only sick. And what I am certain
of is that that blow to me was repercussive.
It came through him, and thus
hit him first, and he’s been taking and passing on that violence onto his own
life always. From his parents, at everything he was and wanted and
loved, exploiting every shred of self-doubt to do it, so that it looked to him
like “support” for the self-doubt they’d themselves built to a large enough
proportion to do him in (and anything he loved/wanted put asunder) time and
again, the violence came. And when I
think about it, I recognize it because it has been so with every other person
who has ever loved me also – each that I look on in retrospect had what I had
not growing up, i.e. a “good family”, loving parents, a “happy” childhood, that
upon closer inspection occasioned by trying to love me and failing, turned out to
be a kind of abusive-to-the-self upbringing to some extent. (What is it in me that drew you, and me to
you, I wonder? Karma, says my shrink, which I thought I understood the
definition of, but no.)
Aaron’s family is not merely abusive to some extent, though,
it is a systematic violence so large that I had to be punched in the face back
from it far enough to even glimpse its proportions. How he made it this far, I don’t know. (His brother didn’t.) And what I’ve inherited from it is the shared
experience of it, because he now has given me a kind of love that feels like the
safest place to be exactly when it is not
that at all. With love like that,
who needs hate? It feels almost
not survivable except by a counter measure of equal heartlessness, a kind of going
dead.
So, I understand indeed. But I'm far from gone-dead.
Justice ft & Problem - On Mamas
Friday, September 05, 2014
Thursday, September 04, 2014
currently between paradigms
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
--Louise Erdrich
The Painted Drum
That hasn't worked out so great lately playlist
Florence and the Machine - Kiss with a Fist
White Stripes - Blue Orchid
Black Keys - Run Me Down
bonus track from FaintedInk
(I like her dress)
That hasn't worked out so great lately playlist
Florence and the Machine - Kiss with a Fist
White Stripes - Blue Orchid
Black Keys - Run Me Down
bonus track from FaintedInk
(I like her dress)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)