A Change In The Weather

Pain.  Pain. 

Deep, bone aching pain. 

My internal weather changes, and my heart aches like any broken body.

Why?  Why did he do this?  Why did he have to choose me to do this to?  Why didn’t he give a damn?  Why does he continue to hurt me, to act out his addict role and ogle women and deny his actions so clearly right in front of me and gaze deeply into my eyes while withholding everything?

Why do I care?

I want to wring an answer from him.

WHY?????

Why do I think I will ever get an answer that makes sense?  Addicts don’t make sense.  They make excuses to keep running into the arms of their addiction over and over, rationalizations to allow themselves to continue inflicting pain on others.  The addiction is the only thing they really care about.  It has taken over their brains and their hearts and their souls. 

Do I want to ask him just to hurt him back?  If he looked truly hurt, would I think he really regretted?  Would I believe any look upon his face due to the ease with which he feigns sincerity?  Would I ask him just to try and understand because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND?  I do not understand how one human can so casually and with such intent abuse another.  I do not understand how one human can so easily use another.  I can understand that, if someone has crossed a line from which there is generally no turning back.  Redemption?  Recovery?  Being saved?  That is for stories, happy ending movies, more lies to make people give their trust in those who do not deserve it.

I am not his enemy.  I wanted to be his friend.  I wanted to share life with him.  I wasn’t worth waiting for.  I wasn’t worth his time or effort.

Do I really think he tells me the truth?  Do I really think someone who concocted lies for years in order to have sex whenever they wanted, whenever the urge called, will now stop all those behaviors just because they say they want to?  Addict speech.  Addict speak.  Addicts lie.  And he has myriad ways to hide his actions.  He can easily just be more careful about how he hides.

I am not trying to control him.  I only want to feel safe, for just a while.  To breathe without terror.  To wake without sobbing.

Life has been so busy.  Too busy.  There are things I must face.  His finances.  With mind boggling, terrifying scrutiny.  His promise of lie detector.  The calling each other.  Him testing to see what he can get away with between the calling.  Will she yell if I pull this little difference in my schedule?  Will she notice if I only say something later?  What if I am gone longer than I say I will be?  How much can I get away with?  Does he only care about the thrill of pushing his limits against me?  Does he only understand how to hurt women?

I am not his mother.  I don’t want to be his mother.  I am not his father.  I am not always critical, not even mostly critical, yet he still hears nearly everything I say as criticism.  I have a right to my own feelings.  I have a right to say what I see as keeping me from getting close to him.  Maybe I can say it better, but I have a right to speak my truth.  I think he filters every word and action of mine through his own projection of self hate.

I want someone who is responsible for their own behavior.  Who keeps their word.  Whose word means something to them.  Who is basically honest.  Who cares about themself and other people.   Someone who really wants a partner in life.

I think that person is me.  I think I am that kind of person.  I don’t want to make excuses for why I would accept less than a wonderful relationship with a caring, giving, honest person.  I will learn how to accept that kind of closeness in my life.  I will practice how to accept this pain and learn how to move away from it like any smart animal.  I will learn how to choose more wisely and accept nothing less than a truly good person and a deeply committed, loving relationship.

Tornados.  Hail.  Driving winds.  Floods of filth.

Fall is drawing to a close.  Some things feel just as they did last year.  Some things are different, some better, some much worse, some scarier for their blatant addict and other for their attempted closeness which I want even while I fear but I still cannot trust. 

It is time for a covering of pristine, sparkling winter snow.  Perhaps this will merely be a blanket to hide the rutted, blasted, detritus riddled plain. 

But it will be a beautiful, peaceful, bone chilling change.

A time for nature’s slumber.

I ache.

Shattering Patterns

The solar eclipse was supposed to have great meaning for my sign.  In Cancer, so near my birthday, to break old patterns.  I have plenty of old patterns which could use breaking.  I am doing too much soul searching.  My head hurts.  My heart hurts.  My soul hurts. 

The eclipse was in the Southern hemisphere, sort of reminiscent of my Southern Node.  I am supposed to be working towards my higher self, my more spiritual self, through my emotional, Cancerian node.

Good Gods, how much more emotional can I be?  I cry all the time.  I try to find joy in the smallest of moments because it never stays.  I sob for hours, tears pouring out, unable to move again, collapsed in time and space and heart, a black hole of my former self.

My horoscope indicates that I am an over emotional nervous wreck.  I try to control everything and everybody, and will resort to manipulation if necessary.  I hide what I am up to until I spring my plans fully formed on the unsuspecting people in my lives.  I am touchy and moody and drama queen when wounded.  I am restless and finicky and scatter brained and overly critical of myself and others.  I think relationships must have hate as well as love.  I am flighty and can project my issues on to those I am in relationships with.

Is this really who I am?  Haven’t I tried all these years to keep this under check, to work on my mind and my rational thinking to overcome these manipulative, emotional ways?

Yet, I am also honest, passionate, honorable, independent, protective and generous to those I care about.  I look out of the underdog, believe in fairness, look beyond superficial trappings to see the truth between the lines.  I demand others do the same.  I am loyal and have a magnetic personhood which attracts others to me, but can also be intimidating and scare them away.  I am joyful and hard working and look for the good moments in life.  I can empathize, and see both sides of the issue, even play devil’s advocate. 

So, I project my issues, but I recognize that I do and use that to analyze myself even as I determine if that is truth on their part as well.  I also project my good qualities on others, so may not see the truth of their bad qualities.  I manipulate with my emotions to gain security, even though I wish I were more straight forward and open.  I couch truth in positives rather than state my emotional thoughts as bluntly as I would state my opinions. 

I control myself in order to control my world, and try to use this control to change my negative qualities, and the negative energies around me, into positives.  I feel my emotions intensely and try to get others to understand, to empathize with what I am feeling. 

I require honesty and from myself and others in order to control as much as possible for without honesty, no real information can be analyzed to make real decisions.  Honesty is a good measure of someone’s depth of thoughtfulness, and their own internal discipline.

I have many ideas bouncing in my head.  I do not bother others unduly with the variety of permutations until I have made that difficult decision as to which course is best followed.  I must negotiate with inner selves and rather than spew my options and indecision endlessly on to other, I try to come to a decision, or at least a smaller number of possibilities, before bouncing my ideas off of others.

I am nervous.  I have nervous energy.  I do believe others find great discomfort in this.  As well as I display my emotions, dump them all over the world.  I am easily wounded, but tend to overcompensate for another, project better intentions than they might really have.   See honesty and honor where none actually exists because I truly believe others are capable as I try to be capable.  Yet, I allow my faults to go unconfronted in others such that I do not speak of them aloud, and thus do not confront mine, attack mine either.  I accept too little from other so that I can accept too little from myself.  That, and I am afraid to ask too much.  I am dependent in that I fall in love too easily.

I am deeply concerned with motivations and unconscious drives and what lies beneath the surface of words.  Yet, I too easily am influenced by words based on my projected wishes for a good outcome.  I have intuition, but I do not listen when I so strongly desire to control the outcome, primarily in love.  I overthink things and fear decisions and thus do not listen to my inner knowledge.  As the ringing in my ears warns.

There is more.  Much more.  I must learn to read between the lines, better than ever before.  I must learn to disengage my emotions, and yet let my emotions flow like the ocean in order to achieve my higher self.

Gods, I am so confused.

Thick With Goddess

I thickened.

I had not realized how thin I had become. 

Not true.  I knew I had evaporated.  I knew I was a ghost of myself, a zombie, a robot performing tasks but not alive.  I completely comprehended Bilbo:  ‘I feel like butter scraped over too much bread.’

I was filled, renewed, solidified, thickened.  No longer a thin sweat of a soup. 

I am like a lovely, luscious, golden, flavorful butter.

My pain was witnessed, verified, validated, held in sacred space.  All my private acts of sobbing and mourning and screaming my pain into the universe were no longer silenced in the void of human shame.  Sorrow no longer was merely a frog prince sitting to my left, staring at me with eyes like pools of pain.  My rage could be expressed rather than allowed to swallow me whole.  My anguish became a sound that reverberated around the room and the hearts of all the women who came to share, to care, to hold the space for me to expose my deepest horrors and face them in utter safety.

My renewal was equally validated and rewarded and celebrated.  If misery loves company, renewal loves a party!  As the limbic system is wired to tie pain with memory, so it can tie joy with memory.  Ending in a joyful state, so the pain can be transformed within the pathways of the brain, hopefully to create as lasting a bond with the deeply experienced joy as with the previously deeply experienced pain.

Birth and death.  Death and birth.  Trips to the underworld to reveal that which drives our own personal hells, and reemerging triumphant and reborn.  I danced with Kali.  I flew with the black crows.  I screamed my anger and defiance to the universe. 

I am still sitting with the goddess where she entered me.  I am still allowing my self to be rewritten from within, my calling of magic, or self trust, of personal truth.  I will do all I can to mold these things deep within my unconscious being before the world of work and TV and chores to be done wipes away that sense of being, of who I am, of what I choose to be. 

Like slowly drinking on licorice tea, the places where I should sense bitterness, in after glow are instead so sweet and alluring that I drink of them over and over and cannot get enough.  The memory draws me back.  The sacred space so filled with tears and sharing and triumph.  As I am truly of the goddess, so sacred space must follow me and surround me and be of me ever more.  Her priestess, her finger, her eyes and hands and sensations and sex and pain and nightmares and dance and loves and hates and dreams in this realm which is the same as any realm.

Understand me, if you dare.

A Scream From The Bottom Of The Well

NOT AGAIN!!! 

OH, DEAR GODS, NOT AGAIN!!!! 

silence……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I know you are out there. 

I know we are in here. 

I am merely a tiny whorl in the vast cosmic flow, yet like any fractal, so above, so below, and within, and without, and on and on and on on on on.

Maybe this is a form of prayer.  Or magic making.  Or communion. 

Not worship, never worship.  I may be humbled to my knees before the immensity of your truth, but I am that truth as much as any. 

Truth.  The search for truth.  My truth.  My truth’s truth. 

Kali danced, and I must sift among the ashes.

I am trying to be reborn.

Welcome.