Intimations Of Intimate Details

How do you deal with someone spilling personal details about you that you expected to be kept between the two of you?

I asked someone I had been close with about a friend of his, and he proceeded to give me the guys number, as we had met before.

It turns out my friend had divulged some very personal info to this guy without my knowledge, who then regurgitated it back to me when I explained my feelings for him.

Embarrassed, hurt and angry just don't seem to cover the emotions pulsing through my body right now. 

I'm sitting in the middle of Starbucks, using the net, and amazed that the tears piled up inside me aren't pouring down my face. My face is so hot with embarrassment, I feel like I'm standing inches from the business end of a blow torch. 

I feel so used, and so exposed. I feel sick.

After a month of making such a huge point of being alone, and trying like the devil to do the right thing and be the woman, the lady I want to be, and working SO HARD at it all, I get thrown under the emotional bus. 

I hate this. 

I want to crawl into bed and never come out.

On The New

So, here comes 2011- and my 25th birthday- headed straight for me.
What am I going to change?
Pretty much everything I haven't already.
Mostly, I'm hoping a relationship is in my near future.
I don't see a long-distance relationship being too sustainable for me, at least one that starts off as long distance. I have a couple really good men in my life who I care about a lot, and, I guess, I should be used to being alone at this point, but that doesn't mean I like it. I absolutely hate the feeling of falling asleep alone every night, knowing I'm not even really working toward anything in that department.
I've been alone in my own bed every night. I finally am getting used to it, and am cutting ties with past relationships and such that are not feasible as friends. This isn't much fun now, but I know it's for the best.
Better things to come.

Change Over

So, I've spent 22 days away from guys in general.
Doesn't sound like much, huh?
Sad, but it is the fruit of telling myself "bet ya can't do it".
There are always nights I just don't want to be alone, and I had a system of keeping myself from having to be alone.
22 days, and today is 5 months after Danger's death.
It hasn't been as hard as I expected, but I'm happy it's a habit broken.
A friend of mine is trying to set me up with someone he works with. We'll see how/if it goes.
I've decided there are rules I'm putting in place for myself, some sound obvious, but haven't been to me thus far.
Like not being alone with a man who isn't my own.
It just leaves too much room for other people's questions, and for lonliness to take over. Too many risks. Those risks inevitably hurt afterwards. Going from lonely and alone to having someone to cover the gap without filling it and back to lonely and alone when they step outside the room is one of the most painful things I've been through.
I've also gotten very picky. I'm tired of feeling like I'm accepting someone into my life because they love me and not because I love them like I should and want to spend my life with them- or at least see if I can. I'm just tired of the same old thing. I'm tired of going in circles. There's got to be more than this.

Exhale

I'm lacking internet access in my room, currently, which is seriously inhibiting my blogging time.
Inhibition of my blogging time actually inhibits my willingness to write, because I see little point in doing it simply for myself, not that I tend to think I have a great following, but at least I know somebody reads it.
Inhibiting my writing tends to lead to mental constipation, and, well, that's not pretty.

Work is going well, though I'm staying incredibly busy. I finally have an NCOIC, though I know the ins and outs so well, a lot of it still falls on my shoulders, which is just fine with me. I will be going to the promotion board in either January or February, depending on who you ask. My immediate leadership quotes the regulation, and says 60 days is the minimum, while 1sg says I was simply handling my business and it will be January for sure. My Soldier is squared away, and we're working on taking care of her weight issues, but I'm incredibly proud of the work she's been doing to fix that particular problem.

Personal life is near non-existent at this point, and it's maybe better that way. I've been talking to a friend of a friend off and on for a while now, and he wants to come see me. He's a sweet prior-Army Mexican guy with three little boys who are incredibly well-behaved and he doesn't yell at them at all. It will be nice to see him, even if nothing comes of it.

Bunny and I dated briefly, but I ended it, as much out of frustration as anything. He is such a wonderful person and I adore him, but I was frustrated with wondering what our life would be like if he couldn't even take care of his own. Maybe I gave up. I just know that, now that we're just friends, he's trying to get his act together, and I'm proud of him. He's too good to just let his life trample him.

I miss Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes, and I have mixed feelings about those feelings. I don't know what to think that I can miss someone else's child like that.

I've got a bit of a cold today, and I'm groggy from the medicine. I was supposed to take a PT test today, but it got moved back to tomorrow.

Streaker

Among my reading, I stumbled across this entry by a blogger whom I've followed for quite some time now. The quote he uses is this one: “The human race is an unfair and stupid competition. A lot of the runners don’t even get decent sneakers or clean drinking water. Some people are born with a massive head start, every possible help along the way and still the referees seem to be on their side. It’s not surprising some people have given up competing altogether and gone to sit in the grandstand, eat junk food and shout abuse. What we need in this race is a lot more streakers.”

- Bansky, from Cut It Out Vol. 3. 

This quote reinforced my adoration for his writing style and thought process. 

Now, my life... 

Things are changing, as they tend to do. I am in a relationship with Bunny, and he is good to me. I am already experiencing the fear and the aggravation of my flight response. Getting close to people is horribly scary for me, and it never seems to get any easier. So, I question, I push away, I get angry... I'm fighting giving up on this, and I don't know if the doubts I have are simply my own fear of trusting someone or if they're logical and based in reality. I'm trying, but thinking of what others would want for me, I am even less sure than I would be otherwise. I'm beyond frustrated. He's the first guy my father ever expressed anything positive about, well, during said guy's life, anyway. I miss Danger like crazy, and I try to figure out if this is the same mistake I made with him, or if this is really as wrong as I fear it is, and if I'm just pushing Bunny away out of fear. 

It's so frustrating for someone like me to be the alpha in a relationship, to be the only one who has aspirations and know what they want to do, what they like... I don't know how to handle this.


Once payday comes, I am going to sign up for belly dancing classes. I have gotten good at keeping myself going to the gym during lunch, and doing physical training with my unit as well. I want to get myself on a schedule, one that includes hobbies (belly dance, hopefully writing will eventually fall into a schedule, as well), my physical exercise as well as my Faith. I have been poor, lately, at getting to Feast and events like I should. I also want to go back to being a vegetarian. I'm sure that will prove difficult, at best, but it's something I've been considering for a while. 


In the process of preparing to cut meat out entirely, I stumbled across a number of free iPod touch applications, and a blog I hadn't heard of before. (You'd be amazed how unusual it is for me to find a popular blog I'm unaware of.) The Messy Vegetarian Cook is a blog I'll be interested to look more into. 


Meanwhile, back at the farm, work is going well, mostly. I'm studying for the promotion board, I have a new NCO who's actually a medic like myself, and my Soldier's coming back from her time off on Monday. It's going to be busy for a while, but I'm looking forward to life in general. It's a nice change.

Another Try

Bunny is back with a vengeance.
We're together.
I spent a lot of nights alone, and some not, and realized there have been three men, besides the wonderful men in my family, who have loved me unconditionally: my ex-husband, Danger, and Bunny.
It didn't take too many days of not hearing from him to miss having someone I could call day or night and know he'd do or say anything I might need him to.
That's love.
I'd known he loved me all along, and this isn't to say nobody else has, this was just... different.
Bright Eyes loved me, undoubtedly, but it felt all along as though he was settling for living in my life, and I suppose I never shook that feeling. I suppose I mostly continue to mention him because I know he still cares about me very much, and continues to read my ramblings, despite all that's happened.
So, I try again, in my own time, in my own way, despite my pride, and I hope I'm right this time.
It's time to move forward.

Time Travel

My worst habit is rushing things.
I have an incredibly hard time trying to be present in the moment and not get distracted by what I want something to become or trying to make it fit into what I wanted to end up with, or worrying about it being better than what I had.
With everything I'm juggling right now- promotion issues, Soldier issues, family issues, social life, cleaning, moving personal belongings from one place to another- I am realizing quickly that the biggest lesson I want to learn from Danger is being present in the moment- something I swear he never struggled with. While I'm seeing, the more I clear my life of people who are hurting me or simply wasting my time, I'm realizing that the qualities I need in someone I date are pretty clear: I need someone who can stand up to me, someone who will treat me right, and someone who is intelligent. It's harder to find than one might think. None the less, even if I find someone who's perfectly within these parameters, if I can't learn to slow down and be in the moment, well, I'm just going to rush into it all and end up feeling like it's too much for me to handle.
This quote from Erykah Badu's song Window Seat caught my attention earlier: Don't wanna time-travel no more, just wanna be here.  


It just fits, you know?
I'm falling back into my comfort zone with the soul music these last couple days- a lot of Joss Stone, Erykah Badu, Fugees, Alannah Myles... I forgot how peaceful that place is. Soul music is my haven, I crave it when my life starts to feel right again. I will always hope that it sticks, but, mostly, I'm just going to have to wait and see. 

Mission Aborted

Well, this one caught me off-guard.
I kind of stumbled blindly upon this site- Black Genocide Dot Org- and am surprised by how much it struck me.
I can't say with any certainty the statistics it claims are accurate, but it seems plausible enough.
I should explain, I suppose, that I'm pro-choice. I don't believe in killing babies, but I don't believe in killing children, either. The way I see it, a mother has to make the choice to be a mother. Adoptions are difficult and less than affordable for many families, so these women who find themselves between a rock and a hard belly may be damning their child to extinction either way. I don't agree with forcing anyone- be it a fetus/baby or a woman- into a corner. Giving women the right to choose is not forcing their hand either way. Condemning abortions is.
However, that said, I couldn't do it myself. I have been raped twice, the first resulting in pregnancy. There was a period of time I wouldn't leave the house with my mother because she wanted me to have an abortion so badly. I miscarried the baby anyway, she'd be turning ten in the spring, but it was a choice left to God, not one I took into my own hands. I don't know a woman who's chosen abortion who hasn't struggled with it violently afterwards, often for the rest of their lives.
So, seeing statistics and quotes that wrench my heart about abortions are rather shocking to me. I'm not a fan of the 'shock jock' method of anti-abortion/pro-life advertisments. I'm rather appalled by it. I know there's never been a doubt in my mind what the process does, but that sure doesn't mean I need to see pictures. Yet, here I am seeing quotes like "Therefore, choose life, that your children may live." -Deuteronomy 30:19 and statistics like "Between 1882 and 1968, 3,446 Blacks were lynched in the U.S. That number is surpassed in less than 3 days by abortion." throws me.

Patience And Pain

I text Doc last night and asked him what he wanted out of this.
"I don't know, but I'm too tired to think about it"
That was a slap in the face, though I doubt he realized that.
Today, I find out he doesn't recall referring to me as his girlfriend the other night. (Cue Blame It On The Alcohol by Jamie Foxx.)  Oh, and he's not ready to date.

Wait, what?!
Then what is this?!
Then I get a nasty text message from a mutual friend snapping at me for repeating a comment of his to Doc, one I was trying to clarify at the time.
So I went off on Doc. He didn't know what I was talking about, he said.
I'm still trying to figure out what exactly is going on.
I'm hurt, my ego bruised, my heart beaten once more.

I just want to be left alone for a while. I just want things to stay positive for more than a couple days without some monkey wrench putting me into tears.

Gypsy Grace

I can't tell you how many times I've heard the phrase "strong female" translated into that one magic word:BITCH.


I don't care if you call me a bitch.
Go for "the c-word" too, if you'd like. You know, that special word for female genitalia that generally ends up in violence when directed at a woman.


The fact of the matter is, I am a strong female. I wasn't raised in a lesbian household, I wasn't told I could do anything I wanted, I didn't have a parent in the military. Hell, I didn't even have a positive female role model.


I have been raped, beaten, stolen from, stabbed, used, hit, abused in more ways than I really care to imagine.
The fact of the matter is, I refuse to let it happen again.


Every time the two rapes or molestations I went through start spinning their ugly reel in my head again, I go back and read this article over at Yes Means Yes. I've written about it before, but, being at the beginning of a potentially serious relationship with someone I genuinely respect on a number of levels, being willing to bare my soul in a way I hadn't expected to be able to, well, this article brings on a whole new meaning for me. I also have a Soldier coming in next week who happens to be male- and my first Soldier here at this post. Setting boundaries with a Soldier is not that much different from setting boundaries with a child or a friend. It's generally a combination of the two styles, varying, of course, by Soldier.


I continually go back to this article, though, because it reminds me that what I was raised to believe was wrong for a little girl to do is everything a woman needs to know how to do. I need to know how to be able to yell at the top of my lungs in a suddenly jacked-up and potentially dangerous situation, and do so without hesitation. Whether it's a male coming at me in a way that scares me, or my Soldier about to get hit by a truck he doesn't see, I need to be able to react immediately and loudly. I do not need to feel that I have to justify my decisions every time they are challenged. Yes, there will be situations when I must tell my seniors why I made the choice I did, but, frankly, there will be more situations when I have to tell my Soldiers they'll just have to trust me and to execute. I have to be able to shut down someone coming at me inappropriately. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that Sergeant First Class to come at me sideways, flirting with me in front of my Soldiers, or allow someone senior to me to behave inappropriately in my clinic? I have to be able to tell them to stop what they're doing and get out of my clinic, like it or not, because they're wrong. I don't need to give in to someone who doesn't want me to follow through with what I'm pushing for. I need to be able to stick to my guns and not crack, no matter how many times they push me. 


I have been called a bitch. Sometimes it was to my face, sometimes it was within earshot, sometimes I heard it through friends, and I'm sure there were plenty of times I never heard about it at all. I don't care. 


I have seen hell. 
When you've been to rock bottom, you can only go up.
No matter how exhausting, how frustrating, infuriating, overwhelming, or painful the climb- there's only room to move upwards.
My mother never saw that. She saw the one rock in front of her, and chose not to step over it. My mother is not my hero. My mother clung to excuses like they were her lifeline, while all the time they were her chains. They kept her right where she was, never allowing her to move in any direction, always holding her prisoner to her addictions and ignorances. 
I am a Gypsy, though, and I refuse to be the weak White woman folks see when they look at my mother. Men saw someone to care for, someone to fix. Like an ocean, she's bound to, eventually, wear down even the most stubborn coast. I am stronger than that. I do not need alcohol, I do not need excuses, I do not need a man to support me. When I pledge my love to another man, it will be because he respects me as I do him, because he knows that I will not waiver or hurt him, that I will be the woman I've sworn to be. I will not back down, I will not turn back, and I will not be weak. I would rather be called crazy, I would rather be called a bitch, I would rather be the strong woman who knows what she wants than to ever, ever be called weak. 

Onward!

So, things are off to a good start with Doc.
Patient, affectionate, very sweet, intelligent, funny, and generally pretty cool. He catches hints way better than most men, and doesn't take my emotional ranting too much to heart. I hope this sticks.
It is, however, the way of the universe, to test what anyone says they believe in. Within a matter of days of starting to hang out with him, there were two people making less-than-positive comments about it, and, of course, now that I have no intention of dealing with anyone else, guys are coming out of the wood work.
That's okay, though, because I know what I want, and this is where I'll stay.
I'm doing my damndest to get it right this time. I'm just tired of being alone.
I catch myself missing my ex-husband on occasion, but I think sometimes it's more the knowing that someone will be there through anything that I miss, rather than him specifically. He's a wonderful man, but not someone I should be married to.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, it's Girl Time and I'm about dying. I have 30 minutes of work left and they seem to drag on forever. And ever. And ever... I don't know how I've made it through the day. I am beyond miserable.
No clue what dinner is going to consist of- half of a burrito is all I've managed to choke down today, as I'm simply feeling miserable- but I know laundry and cleaning are musts, no matter how miserable I feel.

Difference

"But this one's different!"
How many times have I said that?
It's always been true. Every person I've dated really was different than the others.
We're individuals, it's kinda part of the deal, no?

Anyway, Bright Eyes attempted to set me straight in an email that followed my last blog.
He said I've gotten "absolutely giddy" about "at least 4 guys" in the last couple months- presumably, he was not including himself. I went back and, as best I could, between blog and memory, ensured I wasn't completely off-base for saying "WTF" when I read this sentence.
Four guys?
Um, no...
Bunny and I have been friends, and I really wish that there was something ultimately more than that, but, yes, I'll admit to getting "giddy" about him at one point and time. Bunny is, and likely always will be, amongst the best men I've ever known. He's wonderful, and, truth be told, I love him- just not that way. I've been truly grateful to have him in my life, and I don't really like the thought of not having him there. However, we were friends. He only very recently got his divorce finalized and, while he's been wonderful, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't walked on him at all. It wasn't intentional, but, yes, there were choices I made that could have been made better for his sake.
Flag, Scout and a few random, vague references to male friends are the only people, besides Bright Eyes, and, now, Doc that I have mentioned. Bright Eyes is a man I love very much, and I love his daughter very much. I walked on him once, though, so it seems unlikely that would change a whole lot during a second round. Flag and Scout are good guys but one date, once, with Flag, I seriously have trouble comprehending as "giddy". He's a great guy, but, really? One date and it's serious enough to pull out an email? Anyway, that frustration aside....

Doc is a friend of a friend. Yes, there are a lot of changes going on in my life, but to assume that they are because of one- or several, even- man/men is a bit, um, demeaning. I have had enough things change in recent months- Danger's death, moving back to the town I knew as a child, things with my father- that I'm a little surprised subsequent, smaller, and more positive and self-driven changes have even been worth note. I have finally chosen to let go of my bad habit of holding on to "other options" when I'm in a relationship, and really focus. I have realized that I need someone strong enough to stand up to me who also treats me well. I have found this in Doc. I am truly blessed and very proud of my growth.

Curve Ball!

Wow.
Just... WOW.
I had met a guy at a friend's birthday Sunday night who I immediately hit it off with. We're gonna call this one Doc- he's the first fellow medic I've taken interest in for a very long time. He's not really what I'd label as my type- White, about my height, stocky with a little big of a gut at the moment. He has blue eyes. I've always had a weakness for brown.
I'm ready.
I'm not holding on to other options, and giving myself the escape route I've taken all too often in the past.
That's going to be a tough conversation to have with folks, but that lightbulb clicked on last night, like it hasn't with anyone else lately and said 'Yup, time to get it in gear.'
It may not work out.
It may end before or when he leaves for Japan in August.
Or it may work out.
Either way, I'm giving this my best shot.
He won't take my crap, but he'll treat me like a lady.
I won't be allowed to walk on him, but he's got a great sense of humor.
Here goes my heart...

Limits On Love

I'm torturing myself.
I am fortunate enough to have several people- men- in my life right now that I can't see my life without, two in particular. Bright Eyes and Bunny have both been amazing to me, both loved me (whether or not the words were spoken) and been incredibly good to me.
But, because neither of them fit my "plan" and my idea of the way things should be, I've kept them at a distance, and I continue to look for "love" when I have two wonderful men in my life, though very different and very far apart.
Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes are in my heart a way I didn't think possible, and I love them both so much I can't comprehend it. I've never loved a child like they were my own, even when I was a nanny and truly thought of the girls as nearly my own because of the amount of time I spent with them.
Bunny has been that person that is there for me constantly- I know I can call him for anything and he'll be there and do what he has to to look out for me. In the middle of the night, right after he gets home from work, it hasn't mattered. He may not have always understood what I needed, but he always did whatever he could to make it better, anyway.
Last night I had a date with Flag- an honest-to-God date, which are few and far between these days. I really enjoyed my time with him, though I kept the barriers up, and I'm not sure if I should write that off as normal or assume I'm just trying to keep people out still. He'd fit into my plans. Yet, I doubt, and, despite him being good to me, my heart is so caught up hurting over my crappy choices and unfair treatment of both Bright Eyes and Bunny that I'm just absolutely miserable and actually upset that I enjoyed my date. I need to stop screwing around. I keep insisting that I want a relationship, that I'm ready for one, yet I push everyone who wants that with me away hard and fast and as completely as possible- all too often without letting them know this is going on.
I'm hurting them.
I am wrong for treating them this way.
I can't figure out if it's even okay for me to be trying to find someone who fits my plan, or if I'm completely wrong across the board.
I have to stop this.

Pain? What Pain?

So, my Master Sergeant gave me a bit of a lecture at the end of the work day yesterday.
The interesting part is, simplified, it was "Your leaders are screwing up, don't be like them."

I can't tell you how glad I am that I'm not the only one seeing what I'm seeing.

Some of the madness I have had to deal with has had me frustrated, to say the least. To have a first-line supervisor that I try really hard not to complain about, because I feel it is disrespectful for one leader to talk badly about another, well, it's aggravating. My friends, none the less, know multiple stories about her that would surely make her drill sergeants blush. I try to keep it with folks outside of work, though, so that my frustrations don't run over into the workplace.

I am trying to be patient, and kind, and a whole lot of other stuff I feel that I'm failing at, but I'm still doing better than I did in Korea. I guess that's a starting place, right?

My Soldier will be signing in on Halloween, and will be coming here about a week later. I can't wait to actually meet this Soldier that I've talked to so much. MSG gave me the choice to send her elsewhere and get a Soldier in from somewhere here on post. I told him no, I was keeping her. I know she looks bad on paper, having no PT test recently, being young, recently married, and overweight, but I'm a firm believer in some Soldiers just wanting a chance to prove themselves. Korea is not a place where that happens. She's worked her butt off recently so that she can come here and get back on track, and I'll be damned if I take that chance away from her.

We had a Soldier in Basic Training. I don't remember his name anymore, but I remember that our platoon was mad as all get-out (myself included, I won't lie) when he got switched to our platoon because he was doing so badly in his other platoon. One day, lined up in the hallway, he was one or two people behind me. A Soldier from his last platoon started talking trash to him from across the hall. I looked that Soldier dead in the face and said "Maybe he wasn't any good in your platoon, but it must have been you guys, because he's doing great with us." I thought that 18 year old Soldier was going to cry when he heard me talk about him that way. It was a bold-faced lie, but I looked at him, after the offending Soldier stepped away, and said "I put my word out there for you, you know you gotta get right now, right?" He said yes, and was awarded the Most Improved Soldier Award at the end of our training.

Open

I went out last night.
It was a Thursday night.
Lady La La took me to the local country bar, where I'd never been before.
I made 2 friends, both military, both male, one active duty hippie dying to leave the service, and the other a Reservist missing active duty desperately. One was a cook, the other a medic. Both were about my age, one is half Korean, half White, while the other is pure, unadulterated Mexican. They were even similar builds- just about my height, short and stocky-ish.
The half-Korean- Flag, we'll call him- hippie was terribly funny, and fun to pick on. He was flirtatious, outgoing, and reminded me of myself in some ways.
My Mexican friend ("Scout") had a more intelligent wit, was a little more reserved and very well-mannered, though far less mainstream in appearance, with his glasses and button-up shirt.
I was immediately attracted to Flag. It seems I have woken up enough to my own habits to realize that this is part of what makes him all wrong for me. He's fun to be around- but so am I. He's outgoing, loud, goofy, hippie, wild, and just ready for whatever. I need a partner, not a twin. While I genuinely like him, I think I may try to keep him on a partner-in-crime level, rather than a romantic one. It'd be nice to think that could work out- someone to travel with who's got the same wild streak I do- but, frankly, I think it'd be more intelligent of me to go with people who temper that wild streak over enhancing it. Sure, I want to get my living in while the living is good, but, well, I do that pretty effectively without help.
I don't like this growing up thing one bit. *sigh*
This isn't, of course, to say that I'm automatically assuming either one of these guys is a life partner, by any means... simply that, well, my head is starting to wrap around the things I need over those I want.
What a pain.
The first guy that hit on me, last night, though- the one I stepped away from as quickly as I was able to do politely- wound up getting thrown out of the bar for fighting.
I'm getting there.

Wasted Days

"I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them." -Ian Fleming

 

This is a quote I stumbled across a few days ago that goes quite well with Mead's recent post titled Recent Days.

 

Taking reasonable precautions is admirable, but, as I heard someone else recently sum this topic up, 'What good is it for me to live to be 100 if I haven't done anything in 100 years?'

 

This is a thought I try to keep in my mind, as things have gotten especially frustrating lately. I have finally made it past the most painful part of the healing process, healing the wounds of Danger's passing away, as well as some risidual rape-related hurt, but this new stage of the healing process brings with it new challenges.

 

Craving intimacy- not sex, nor romance, nor even love, but true, deep, personal, frightening, overwhelming, risky, interpersonal intimacy.... This is new. This is scary. Maybe this is what most people feel when they begin dating someone new that they really like. Me, though, I'm feeling it just contemplating opening up to anyone enough to trust them not to abandon me.

 

I've dated, I've been married (and divorced), lived in a lot of places, met a lot of people, and there's still plenty I want to do... but intimacy? That... just seems to detract from all those things I want to do. Not because I can't imagine having someone there with me as I do these things, but because it takes a lot of trust to believe that someone will stand by me through trips to India, through possibly changing careers or going through college or deciding I don't ever want children of my own or- scarier yet- deciding that I do. That's a huge amount of trust! How have I not seen this before?

 

Last night, I laid awake, late into the night, wanting to be held, wanting someone to be there, to listen, to want to be there while I cried. There was nobody, though, that I'd opened up to enough to feel as though I could trust them enough to ask them to do that. There was nobody I could think of that I could call that I would want and trust to hold me and be there for me. That's not to say nobody would have, just that the people who I'd allowed to get close enough to me to feel that way weren't people I wanted there for that.

 

This all feels even more complicated than it did before I got to this level... I thought this was supposed to be the easy part?

Intimacy And Growth

Here's the change that happened in me earlier- powerful unto itself:



The moment you realize you no longer want sex, romance, friendship, a date, whatever, and realize you want intimacy... knocks you completely on your behind, to put it nicely.
This is one of the most overwhelming moments of my entire life, and I don't have the first clue what it is I'm supposed to do.

Vlogging

I've been preferring vlogging over blogging these last few days. Here's the latest:

A Woman Is Her Body

I've written about this concept before, but I caught myself expressing, albeit inwardly, sentiments that I have mentioned that I dislike in society.
Venus Williams was heavily criticized for her choice of one particular outfit during the U.S. Open. She had to continually adjust her tennis dress, according to reports. As I looked through pictures, I thought to myself that I hated how masculine this very attractive, very athletic, very motivated and determined woman looked while playing.
 Then it struck me: her appearance is not, by a long shot, the important part.
This woman is among the best tennis players in the world, and I- and many others- are judging her choice of outfit? Seriously? How in the world is that my place?
On her worst days, she plays far better than most folks I know could ever dream of. Yet, we continue to expect women to appear feminine, classy, and well-dressed while doing some of the most physically, and I'd be willing to bet emotionally, demanding tasks and competitions.
What are we thinking?!

Seeing ☆☆☆ Stars

"You are a child of the universe


no less than the trees and the stars;


you have a right to be here." -Max Ehrman
 
 

I love this line. Something is processing in my head, since I've gotten the universal boot in the arse to forgive myself, to let Danger go, and to try- really try- to move on. I'm hurting and sad today, and I haven't been able to shake it. Doing some writing, trying to get a clearer understanding of these feelings during lunch, (although I suspect some of it is PMS) I had a bit of a breakthrough....
 
I have to stop assuming anyone who appears to have good intentions is weak, or hiding something. I have to stop comparing everyone who loves me to my mother, and assuming they have a hidden agenda. I have to learn to accept the feelings I have, put a name to them, and let them be, without insisting on trying to change them or change my life to accomodate/assuage them. I'm allowed to feel things, and they don't have to change my life.
 
And, if that isn't enough for one lunch break....
 
I have consistently looked at myself as somehow being less than others, somehow inferior or incapable of meeting the same personal criteria as the rest of the world... This has especially applied in my relationships. This wouldn't be a huge thing, if seeing oneself as inferior didn't automatically give one permission, or even all-out "reason" to look at oneself as consistently being the victim. If you are inferior, weaker, less capable, less intelligent/strong/worthy of love/beautiful/whatever, you are automatically the only one who can be taken advantage of. You are automatically too low on the totem pole to be able to bring the other person down. You are automatically the victim.
 
I have said a million times that I'm not a victim, I am a survivor. Yet, my view of myself and my corresponding actions have not reflected this. I have treated myself as a victim and, therefore, I am a victim.
 
I have not truly given myself permission to exist as I want to.While I can freely admit that I find men of all races attractive, I have lied to myself and others and insisted I am 'equal opportunity' when it comes to dating. The fact of the matter is, I like non-White men, especially Black men. I can reason this to death, or I can simply accept that this is the group of people I am most comfortable with. It does not make me a less diverse person for knowing what I want, or who I like. I still like many types of music, am interested in many cultures, and am an intelligent person who sees a lot of things differently than the majority. I am simply a woman who knows what she likes.
 
I am no longer a victim. I am equal to the stars, and have no less right or reason in this world than them. This may be another long road, but this is a breakthrough I need to follow through on.

Beautiful

Some part of me doesn't want to let go of him.
I know I should say my goodbyes and try to move on, but some part of me clings to his memory, clings to his love, clings to the thought of redemption.
That part of me knows that if I let him go, though, I have no excuse any more, I can't give up on a relationship after this. If I make the choice to let someone in again, that I won't have the ability to excuse myself for letting them go, not after this.
Having someone's love, questioning their love, and losing them- once to your own stupidity and once to death- is incredibly painful. Some part of me just wants to hold on to his life, and his love and never let anyone in to avoid any more pain like this.... I just want him back, and I can't seem to let it go.
I have some really great guy friends in my life that, normally, I'd be all about dating because they're just such wonderful men... Instead, though, I'm keeping them at a distance and pushing them away because I don't want to let anyone in....
Something's got to give.

Home?

Yes, I suppose it is good to be home.
I'm back in a place where I know the customs, the language, what to expect of someone if I bump into them, or if they overhear me talking to myself.

I was wandering around Barnes & Noble bookstore, looking for books on India, and other things that might interest me, and a thought popped into my head that took me by surprise. Wouldn't it be nice, I thought, if we lived in a world where we could just up and move to any country we liked because it suited us best?

Then it struck me.

We do live in that world.


I have craved India my entire life. I was desperate, as a pre-teen to find something in the Hindu faith that I could relate to. I can't honestly say what it is that ever attracted me to this far-away land in the first place. I don't recall ever having neighbors or even friends, until the last couple years, that had any tie to this place. I don't recall ever seeing any particular show or movie that struck me with an idea that I might like this place. I can't place where or why or when this attraction began. All I know, is that I can't remember a time when this particular place didn't fascinate me.
The picture I've included is of my wedding day. In 2005, I was 19 years old, and I married the gentleman you can see in the background. While we've been divorced three years now, we are still friends. That dress that I'm wearing is a red silk sari, a traditional Indian dress, one I bought from the Hindu temple outside Salt Lake City, Utah. I also wore a bindi, which is the little decoration you can see on my forehead. They, as well as bangle-style bracelets, traditionally symbolized that a woman was married.
I bought three books on India itself tonight, as well as the Bhagavad Gita, a Hindu text. I am craving this place, and whatever experiences it may bring, like it is in my blood. I can't explain it. How can a place you've never visited feel like home? How can a place you know to be full of homeless people, crowded, poor, and so busy seem like it will be the one place you belong? It doesn't make any sense, but I know no other word to explain how I feel about this place than to say I absolutely crave it.

Mad VS Motivated

I stumbled across this article on Yes Means Yes via my lovely Google Reader account.
For those of you who are survivors of rape, particularly women, please understand that this article may trigger some memories or hard-to-handle emotions.

Within this article, the author quotes a message board's contents, and all incredibly deroggatory of the female gender. Okay, I can handle people who don't care for women. I deal with some of them on a daily basis. Bold-faced ignorance is easy to ignore because it has no basis.

Despite the ignorant attitudes depicted in this article, though, these are not ignorant people. They are educated, aware, experienced men who don't like society's current direction. I'm beyond irritated by the overall attitudes, but, well, what really pisses me off is that some of what's said has some sad basis in reality. 

Society in general has absorbed the sex-sells mentality. Alone, this would have it's problems. Combined with the fact that many women are still wrapped up in their bodies being the majority of their value, well, that's a huge problem. Is it any wonder that it takes an attractive woman to sell anything these days? Think I'm exaggerating? Look at the nearest billboard or magazine ad, and tell me I'm wrong. 

Here's another article that references some of what I'm going into here, also on Yes Means Yes. 

Women are raised submissive, afraid to say no, much less yell it. We- and there are exceptions- are raised differently than men. We have made advancements, but we are by no means on a totally level playing field yet. Exerpt:

Women are raised being told by parents, teachers, media, peers, and all surrounding social strata that:

it is not okay to set solid and distinct boundaries and reinforce them immediately and dramatically when crossed (“mean bitch”)
it is not okay to appear distraught or emotional (“crazy bitch”)
it is not okay to make personal decisions that the adults or other peers in your life do not agree with, and it is not okay to refuse to explain those decisions to others (“stuck-up bitch”)
it is not okay to refuse to agree with somebody, over and over and over again (“angry bitch”)
it is not okay to have (or express) conflicted, fluid, or experimental feelings about yourself, your body, your sexuality, your desires, and your needs (“bitch got daddy issues”)
it is not okay to use your physical strength (if you have it) to set physical boundaries (“dyke bitch”)
it is not okay to raise your voice (“shrill bitch”)
it is not okay to completely and utterly shut down somebody who obviously likes you (“mean dyke/frigid bitch”)
If we teach women that there are only certain ways they may acceptably behave, we should not be surprised when they behave in those ways.


It's wrong for us to expect something from women that we tell them not to do. That's right, WE. Every adult is responsible for the next generation. If I come in contact with a younger woman, and fail to do what I can to give her an example of a strong woman, or help her become one herself if I can, I have failed her. 

While I really expected that first article, where men- I apologize, people- are saying things like this:

Basically a walking talking lubricated hole. Congratulations girls, that is how you are viewed, and only you can change it.
--------------------------
And this is the one that really got me:
 
This is something I’ve thought about a lot, and it explains a great deal about the character of girls by and large today. If they have nothing to offer but sex, they’ll become obsessed with the value of that sex and impressing it on you. (This is also why ladies of late so frequently resort to “You can’t get laid”/”You’re just not ‘getting any’” as the go-to insult in any argument.) Few women offer an engaging friendship; fewer still a spiritually satisfying companionship (in fact I can think of none, at least in my few years on Earth.) Charges that game is dehumanizing just totally crack me up: I mean, what else am I supposed to judge these women on? They don’t give a crap about anything besides what’s between their legs, so why should I?
 
It seems that I have more motivation each day to avoid relationships. This, undoubtedly, has become fuel. While I have never been overtly sexual, and while I am more intelligent than quite a few people I know, this changing landscape in my mind is becoming more and more anti-traditional. I'm less and less interested in a relationship, and more and more focused on my goals and dreams, none of which require a man by my side.
 
Going to India.
Becoming a nurse practitioner.
Visiting Memphis.
Getting promoted.
Taking care of my clinic and my Soldiers.
Giving more attention to my Faith, and less to people who take away from it.
Buying that Dodge Challenger that I'm dreaming of, and learning to drive a stick shift more effectively before then....
 
 
Not in that order, of course, but, these are things that I want to do, and see and be.... And a relationship just detracts from all of that, gets in the way of everything I want to do, or, at the very least, makes these things more difficult to attain.

Loss & Distance

I suppose it's no secret that I'm in a dark place right now.
Since Danger's death, I've been struggling to pull myself out of this ugly, dark, rollercoaster ride. I miss him more than daily, and I cry almost as often. After seeing four grandparents, a stepparent, a stepgrandparent, a great grandparent, a baby, and too many pets pass away, I never thought death could phase me any harder than it had. Danger's passing has proved that wrong.
While I spend so much of my time with Bunny, we are progressively more friend than anything more, and that's what I want. I don't feel comfortable with a relationship. It drives me crazy, because, while I know I shouldn't, I catch myself looking at men, and thinking about relationships and what-if's... Yet, my reality is, I feel I would be betraying Danger to get that close to someone again. Logic says one thing, but my heart has it's own direction. I miss him dreadfully, and want nothing more than to have him back.
I can see how my life could be full without a relationship, yet part of me cries out for one, anyway. It's a smaller part of me than it used to be, and I honestly hope that part eventually fades away entirely. I don't want anyone to take his place.
I feel like a sinner living the life I am, though the Baha'i concept of sin is far different than the Christian one. There is no confession, no Hail Mary's to be said. We don't confess our sins to another person, but account for them to God at the end of each day. Yet, I feel disant from Him. My heart seems to be elsewhere, and I don't know how to fix that. I am scared and hurting, and with few, if any, Baha'i folks here I am close to. It's so hard to truly open up to people....

Backwards

I suppose it's jinxing this to say I hope it sticks, but I don't feel the need to be around a man today.
Yes, that's unusual for me.
I continually sabotage relationships, but I can't stand the thought of being alone.
Today, though, I just feel, well, done.
Bunny has been incredibly supportive, even once I told him I would not be making promises to him, in any form, for the forseeable future. He was there for me last night, and I am grateful. I had a small-ish meltdown, but he was there for me until I told him to leave, and, even then, I knew I could call him any time I needed.
He's a good man, but he has more issues than I can fit into my life right now as anything more than a friend, and I want to keep it that way. I can't deal with divorce, custody battles, warrants for speeding tickets, being in too long to be at the rank he is, and failing PT tests. He's a wonderful guy, with too much baggage for someone with this much baggage.
The gate guard I had befriended and I are apparently not on great terms, which is weird, but not out of the norm for unusual friendships with uncertain boundaries. Complicated, but mostly just ridiculous in the end.
Dad, Tumbleweed, whatever... things are getting better, at least in the sense that I think he's starting to understand why this just isn't working at all at this point... Starting to. How long that process could take, I don't know.
I just wish I trusted myself enough to say I'll be alone for a while. Truthfully, I don't see the point in relationships anymore. Nobody sticks around long enough to really understand me, and those that do are either family or strictly in the friends-only zone for one reason or another. I'm just not sure it's what I want, and, after losing Danger, I'm not sure I want to open my heart to that kind of pain again. It's a daily struggle. He's my inspiration, but he's also a source of pain and guilt, and it's all so confusing and tomultuous, and... I just don't want to experience this twice. I can do what I want to do in life without a partner. I can get my MS in Nursing, I can travel to India, I can visit Memphis, I can do anything I want alone as easily, and sometimes more easily, than I could with a partner in tow. I just wish I could convince my heart not to see the best in people and want to be a part of it every single frikking time!
I want to focus more on my faith, though that seems to be a struggle, too, lately, and I'm not entirely sure why. I want it, but it hurts, too. This community is awesome, but they are so far removed from what I know and who I am that sometimes, it just feels like I'm the ignorant little sister, and I'm really tired of playing that role in life.

Maybe it's starting to clear up, or maybe it'll always be this way. I don't know.

Bottom

I want it all to go away.
I don't want my Dad to be leaning on me, I don't want Danger to be gone, I don't want to be living under someone else's roof, I don't want to wake up feeling like the world is depending on me, I don't want to fall asleep feeling like guilt and pain are all that are keeping me tied to this world... but this is what happens, every single day.
I try to pray, and once or twice a day, it comes... Mostly, my heart feels broken and every move I make feels wrong. I'm tired and sad all the time now, and the stress is wearing me out physically. Headaches, nausea, fatigue... Maybe some of it's dehydration on occasion, but I really can't tell the difference anymore.
I've been spending too much time with Bunny. Way too much time. He's such a great guy, but much sloppier than I'd like. Not that he's a messy person, just that his life is, well, sloppy. He seems to be okay, or at the very least, stuck, where he's at. I don't know how to be okay where I am. Maybe this is why the overwhelming sense of guilt comes every time I realize I should have been doing push ups on the hour, or studying for the board more, or doing a thousand effing things to improve my or someone else's situation. Dad wants us to talk. I'm beyond tired of talking. The emails we send back and forth are about as labor intensive as I can handle. We have had the same conversation at least 6 times now, and yet he always comes back with the same things; there must be a way, what if, when will we decide... There's nothing left to talk about, and hasn't been for a long time. He doesn't seem to understand this is hard on me, too, though, sometimes, I suspect it's harder on me than him. Maybe that is selfish to think that, but it's there, none the less.
I dread every morning now. I dread seeing my own father, even in passing. I feel angry and hurt and overwhelmed and guilty for feeling those things. We live in the same house, it's beyond wrong for me to feel this, but I can't seem to accept the feelings and move on with things as I'd like. It just HURTS.
Bunny is a distraction, and a friend. I feel as though I'm using him, but I do genuinely care about him. He knows where I stand with everything, but that doesn't make me feel any less- again- guilty.
How could it not be obvious that I'm out straight? I just want to give up on all of this. If I didn't have a lot to do at work, or I had some money saved up, I'd take leave, just to go away somewhere. I don't know where I'd even go, just away from here.
I feel guilty for not fixing things for dad.
I feel guilty for not being able to give myself time to heal from Danger.
I feel guilty for not doing push ups and studying like I should be.
I feel guilty for spending too much time with Bunny as a distraction.
I feel guilty for missing Feast last night, and for not going to devotionals.
I feel guilty for hurting Bright Eyes.
I feel guilty for not saving more money.
I feel guilty for not making it back down to Georgia to get my tattoo finished yet.
I feel guilty for being mad at my NCO for being lazy about her job and not wanting to help me when I need her.
I feel guilty for not praying more.
I feel guilty for not giving money to the Baha'i center.
I feel guilty for taking my ACU top off at work, even after someone told me it was against post policy.

I just feel guilty and I want it all to go away.

Life As I Know It

....is insane.
Dad has decided he doesn't want me to get a court order to make him my dependent. This was the last option. Yet, he doesn't want to find a place to live. And he decided he wants to see a lawyer about this, but seems to expect me to make the appointment for this. I'm overwhelmed, frustrated, and, well, done. I'm at the end of my rope, and I have no other options to take care of him.
So, I will go ask for a barracks room tomorrow, and begin moving in. It's not because I want to live on post, but with no chance at having the money to live off post in sight, well, it's my only option.
Work is busy, to say the least. My MSG asked me Friday if I was considering suicide. As blunt and, frankly, weird as it was to have this conversation with this man, it was nice to know that there were people who understood just how much I had on my plate, and what kind of toll that sort of thing takes.
Bunny has been really good to me, but I'm at the point that I always get to of pushing him away. At least I've been honest with him about it. I'm just done. I needed time alone again, so I'm keeping him at a distance. I don't know if being away from him for a while will make me miss him or if I'll just keep pushing him farther away, but, well, I'm not all that focused on anyone else right now. Selfish, I suppose, but I'm tired of hurting, and if you don't let anyone in, they can't hurt you.
Everything's coming apart at the seams lately, and I'm trying to hold it together. At work, I've been doing very well hiding it all. I'm quite proud of myself for faking the smile and motivation I totally and utterly lack lately. I just want things to go away, but they don't. So I keep going, I keep holding my head up, even when I'm holding my head up on my way to hide in the bathroom for half an hour so I can cry without anyone seeing it.
I wish I could simply accept that I'll be alone forever. It would make my life so much easier. I continue to hope this one's going to be the one, and I do a pretty good job of convincing myself, but, well, they never are. I suspect they never will be. I no longer know if it's because of my pain over losing Danger and realizing exactly how much I love him and miss him, or if it's simply that I suck at this sort of trust thing, but I'm more and more convinced that this ugly little cycle of 'I love you now leave me alone' will continue. Bunny is very good to me, but he's got more than his share of problems as well. Mostly, I think he helped me ignore my own. It was nice. I talk about it like it's over, but I'm not convinced anything's ever really over any more. I just know what I'm comfortable with and what I'm not, and, well, this ain't it. Something just feels wrong about it, and that means it's time to move on.
Wasn't this supposed to get easier at some point?
I'm going to start saving up money for a car, though I have no clue what kind just yet, and a friend is going to loan me one of his vehicles for a couple months so I can save money for a down payment. As much as I'd tried to avoid a car loan, it sure doesn't look like I'll be able to avoid it this time. So, come end of December or beginning of January, I'll be buying a new (new-to-me) vehicle. My birthday is mid-January, so that should be a nice bonus for my birthday. Now, to get it all rolling...

When It All Falls Down Again

Trying to take care of Dad has become a sick and twisted and hopeless joke.
He doesn't understand why I need him to figure out which way he's going to be willing to go with this, never mind why it's so urgent. I'm getting questioned several times daily about this crap with him and he can't decide if he'll allow me to do what I have to do to help him. I'm trying to be patient, but with the other thousand or so things on my plate, by the time I head home from work, dealing with another situation is the last thing I want to do, never mind break everything down Barney style. Every other day he talks about moving somewhere so I don't have to take care of him, and the other days he wants to know when this will be taken care of. He's now making more than me, and, well, I've had it trying to explain all this to him.
I have a clinic to set up, and things are extremely stop-go with that, and that's frustrating beyond belief.
I am now getting nasty emails from friends and exes and people I thought understood where I was at and didn't.
G-dammit. Yes, I am healing. Nothing is for certain, nothing is stable, and everything feels like it's on it's frikking head right now. How does everything fall down all at once?
I still miss Danger every single day, I still cry over him, n now I have someone who's here when I need them, who I can lean on when things get dark, and who is going through dark times themselves.
Nothing will ever be good enough for this world sometimes, I swear.
People I thought I was friends with have turned their backs on me, and people who I thought had a clue, don't. I'm fed up, and I just want the world to go AWAY for a while. I'm hiding this weekend. The first full weekend in Oct is a 4day and I will be as gone as it comes that weekend. I'm done.

4Give Yo'Self!!!

Holding on to past habits- in the way I treat myself, my emotions, my beliefs, and all that ends up encompassing others via relationships- has been a major downfall for me.
I am an all-or-nothing person.
I've said this for years.
I've tried to change this for longer.
Why?
I'm not saying that ALL of my past habits were, by any means, healthy. If I thought these habits were healthy, well, I wouldn't be sober, amongst other accomplishments. (18 months sober yesterday!!!)
Bunny is going through some things, as am I.
Instead of judging myself, him, us and my/his/our feelings, just accepting it and letting it be is the goal.
Yep, he's at the tail end of a divorce. While he has an incredible grasp on the reasons, circumstances and cause-and-effect of it all, it's still a divorce. I see the hurt, I see the frustration, I see the changes.
I am dealing with Danger's death. I may be able to see, clearly, the grieving process I am experiencing, but, crap, the guy's gone. It's going to be hell for a little while.
So, do I think this is all a rebound for both of us? Pain seeking pain to avoid pain? A distraction? Let me get to the real question: Do I think we're two people distracting ourselves by getting involved with one another in a relationship that can only be doomed for failure?
Let me be honest:
I don't know.
I know I care about him, that he has some truly amazing qualities, and that he has the potential to be someone I keep in my life permanently. As a spouse one day, or as a friend for life, I don't know. I know he cares about me, listens, is there, and is a great friend. We are leaning on each other right now, and I don't regret it. It feels really good to have someone outside the situation to vent to, to lean on, to reach out to and for, and to be there for. If this is something that ends, then so be it. If this is to be the foundation to a future, good for us.
Both of us are all-or-nothing. We're both very aware of that. We've discussed our situations openly, with all the crazy, chaotic, overwhelming details included. We will not give this the label (and pressures) of a relationship until after all his papers are finalized. We will not consider marriage until January (soon, I know, but for two people who rush into everything, it's surprisingly reasonable). Lastly, children are something neither of us are ready for and, if we wind up getting married, after being married for five years, we will discuss what our thoughts and feelings are on pro-creation, adoption, etc., at that point.
This may not be what I would have put in an outline of my perfect relationship. I don't color inside the lines, so to speak, so this sort of relationship is unlikely at best. It is, however, incredibly reasonable and a lot more grounded than any situation I've been in. It has specific boundaries and we're both aware of what they are, in no uncertain terms.
Even if this isn't forever, this is a step in the right direction, and I'm proud of myself.

Shoot

Now that it's made national news, I won't avoid posting about it.
There was a shooting here on post today, just a few hours ago.
Someone shot the shooter. No gender, name, motive, or any other details have been released.
I'm sitting in my office, waiting for Bunny to finish work and pick me up.
I'm bordering on numb and sick.
I know someone will mention Muslims. I just hope I won't be where I can hear it.

People make me so sad these days.

Someone felt that violence was their only option today. Now, they are dead.

Maybe that's what they wanted.
Maybe they were scared.
Maybe they asked for help and didn't get it.
Maybe it could have been prevented.

Nobody else died, as of the most recent reports.
Plenty of people will say the shooter got what he/she deserved.
I can't think that way, though.
What that person deserved was help.
They clearly didn't get that.

I'm tired of a world so cold, so full of violence and anger and hatred.
I've always been so unaffected by death, and now, someone I probably didn't even know is dead after trying to harm others, and I feel absolutely sick over it. When did death stop being part of the life cycle for me and something far more traumatic? When Danger died, I suppose. None the less, I wish I'd had the chance to help this soul before nobody could. That's what they are, you know, a soul. No different than you or I, except maybe they didn't have someone to listen like we do. Maybe that stranger telling them they should smile more would have made them understand the effect they have on the world, at least long enough to keep them from opening fire on a store full of people. Maybe that guy that was having a bad day and snapped at this soul instead of seeing his own pain reflected in their eyes could have made a difference to them, if only he'd slowed down a little bit, if only he'd taken the time to see this person as his brother or sister, and not just another face in the crowd.
Heaven is my father, Earth my mother, all mankind my brothers, and all living things my companions.

Love And Loss

This weekend didn't turn out quite the way I'd expected.
I didn't end up spending much time with Big Alamo who came to town this weekend- a battle buddy from basic training- or with Lady La La's crowd, like I usually do.
I met someone, at the club no less, who understands better than I can comprehend what I'm dealing with.

Talk about scary.

Bunny (short for Gun Bunny) is a tanker. Tankers are big guys, as a rule. He reminds me of my dear friend Tank on a level that is just plain eerie. He's going through his second divorce and has a grasp on it all that I wish I could say I could relate to. I've never had such a clear image, while going through something, of why it happened as it did. None the less, it's turmoil, and it sucks. If we end up dating, it wouldn't break my heart, but, for now, it's one day at a time. The patience this man has for my moods and emotions is mind-boggling. He's strong without being pushy, and laid-back without being passive. He's become a close friend very quickly, which is something that doesn't happen often. I allowed him alone with me in my car the first night we met. After 2 rapes in cars, that simply DOES NOT HAPPEN. I have people I consider friends that I'm not comfortable alone in a vehicle with. It's that serious.

He lives 5 minutes from me.
It's scary to lean on someone like this, and I pray that this isn't going to look like a re-run when all is said and done. Whether this turns into love or friendship or a memory, I have something to learn from this. I just pray it involves not repeating old mistakes/habits.

Painful is the path to healing, and terrifying is the path to faith.

Caught In The In-Between

I'm lonely as all get-out.
Yet, I'm far from being over Danger's death, and I know full well I'm not ready for a relationship.
Honestly, I dread the thought of having to answer to someone.
I meet people every day and think 'Wouldn't it be cool to be with someone like that?' and the other part of me screams, in a very you're-not-my-real-dad sort of tone 'We don't need to answer to him!!!!'
Yes, in my head, it's a plural. I never have figured out why. Neither of us have.
*shrug*
If it's there, might as well run with it, right?

Anyway, today has been the worst, loneliness-wise. I'm not sure why. Yesterday, I  hid in the bathroom for a while after lunch to get the tears out of the way. Today, yes, I miss Danger dearly, but... I just don't want to be alone or sit still for too long. Maybe this is the healing process- waves of misery, followed by waves of keeping myself so busy I don't notice the pain. The other night (I've lost track of which one, to be totally honest) I was at a point I recognized as being one of those times when alcohol would have pushed me over the line, from sad and grieving to destructive. Tuesday will be 18 months sober. A year and a half, man. Those first few months were so hard. I remember being happy when our unit got put on dry status (no drinking) for a while because then I didn't have to see anyone drinking. I remember ordering cokes just to look like I was drinking, or those super-girly drinks (virgin, even though I'd never been one for the alcoholic girly drinks) just so I would give the appearance I was drinking. I remember people laughing at me and saying there was no way I'd stop for good. A lot of people.
Mom told me I'd never hold a job. I've been in the Army three years now. She said I'd never drive a car- I've had my license for a few years now, no tickets, accidents, fines, nothing. She never told me, though, that I'd never quit drinking. I think that was unspoken. Not only is sobriety one less way I'm like her, it's one more way that I've overcome her. She's still drinking, I'm sure. Decades of alcoholism don't just fade away, and she'd have to admit she had a problem before she could fix it.
I don't know where life will lead me, or if I'll ever be in a relationship again, or if I'll just wander this earth til Heaven calls me Home, but here I am, in control. It's my choice.

Normal

This can't be normal.
Call it PMS, grief, depression, call it whatever you like, but falling apart the way I am right now can't possibly be normal.
I don't want to hurt like this anymore.
I don't want to be here alone, but I don't want anyone seeing me sob like this, and there's not a person in the world smart enough and strong enough to put up with me when I'm this much of a mess, much less one who's recognize that I was in pain- because I'm sure not asking anyone for help.
I'm overwhelmed, hurting, angry, frustrated and alone... because the only person to ask for help is the person I'm most likely to yell at.
I just want to give up....

Statement Of Intention

I don't know what my latest entries have come across to other people as.
I'm not going to assume anything.
I will say, though, that I realize my more recent writings here have been a lot more pessimistic and emotional than the earlier ones.
I will also say this, as a bit of a disclaimer: I am a Baha'i, but this blog is not solely about that. This blog is a personal blog, and a very limited number of people who actually know me are actively aware of it's existence. Anyone who feels they have the right to judge me for what I write here may be better off not reading it. I don't make money off of this, nor am I promoting anything via this blog- these are not my intentions.
I have discussed things on here that would make plenty of people feel uncomfortable. Some individuals may even manage to be offended. While none of this is my intention, again, it's a personal blog.
I am living my life the best I can, and this is just a brief glimpse of that life.
Take it or leave it, it's that simple.

Broken Heart Beating

I'm reading "Where The Broken Heart Still Beats- The Story Of Cynthia Ann Parker" by Carolyn Meyer.

Cynthia Ann Parker is a "White" woman who was, at a young age, taken from her family by members of the Comanche tribe. She lives with them, marries a chief, and then, during a rather violent raid, re-captured by the White folks. She's returned to her family, along with the daughter she had with the chief, and, despite trying to escape, is forced to live as a White woman. The reason I put "White" in quotations at the beginning is because it's incredibly clear, even by the first pages of Chapter 5, that this woman in no way considers herself white.
Here is a woman, living completely outside her element, not by choice, without the man she loves.  She struggles to maintain what she knows and believes in but, of course, it is a struggle.
It's incredible how much I relate to this woman.
Why do I cringe every time someone calls me white? Why am I more offended by that than anything else? Why do I feel so empty when I do what I feel I "should" do? My faith helps so much, but there's just so much of me that screams that there's more for me than what I'm living right now. I struggle with the decision of whether to stay in or leave the Army in 2013 when my contract expires. I have wanted to be a career Soldier for some time, but I crave India, and a few weeks, I think, would only leave me wanting more. I don't know how to go about visiting there, though I'm not the least bit frightened to do so, even on my own. After spending two years in Korea, I'm quite confident in my abilities to manage in a non-English speaking country. From what I've read about India, there's actually quite a large part of the population who are at least relatively fluent in English. Perhaps I would enjoy trying to learn Sanskrit or Hindi? Hindi is India's major official language, with English being a secondary. I'm relatively sure that Sanskrit is mostly a religious language, more than a frequently spoken one.
I don't know, but I have found a fascination in this place for a long time. I think it might be time to try to figure out what to do about it.

Guilt About My Lack Of Guilt

I don't feel guilty for ending things with Bright Eyes.
In a way, I do feel guilty for not being the figure I wanted to be to his daughter.
Mostly, though, I feel guilty... for not feeling more guilty about the situation.

Weird, right?

Do I miss him? Yes.
Do I feel I made the right decision? Yes.
Do I hate being single? Yes.
Do I need to be single? Yes.

I've been keeping myself incredibly, insanely busy.
It's not Bright Eyes I've been avoiding thinking about, though.
It's Danger.
Not that there's much avoiding thinking about him, most days, though.
He was my friend for years before we dated. YEARS.
I really think he was the greatest love of my life, and I let him go.
You wanna talk about guilt? The man's dead.
I was so scared to lose him that I lost him.
Twice.
I was terrified he wasn't what he seemed, so I pushed him away. I never stopped loving him. This man was everything I wanted. He was the bad boy, the wild one, the tattoo artist, the free-thinker, and he was also one of the most affectionate, doting, loving people I've ever met, not to mention an incredible father. He loved his kids more than anything. He was the unattainable one when I first met him- that guy that was clearly above me, out of my league. As all crushes do, it came into perspective. He was real. He had some flaws- mostly, he sucked with money, but that wasn't news to anyone- but the way he loved me, sweet Lord....
He bragged about me.
Not a little bit.
Constantly.
He thought I was his dream come true.  I was the one who stole the heart of the eternal bachelor.
I love him so much it hurts- literally.
Some part of me, even after 2 months, refuses to accept this as real. He can't be gone. Not him.
He wasn't supposed to leave me behind.
I woke up, and he was just.... gone.
The man I sat next to in the hospital all night, the man who always insisted I stay with him when I, once again, found myself not welcome in my mother's house, the man who's eyes lit up when he talked about marriage and settling down, or moving to Texas for me, the man who took goofy pictures of himself for me and posted them on Facebook so everyone could see how much he loved me... The man who was planning our wedding, who wrote an email to my 1sg to try and get him to help him with a surprise formal proposal... The man who was designing an engagement ring for me.... I love this man more than life, and I can't imagine anyone ever capturing my heart the way he did.
Danger could get anything- and did.
Some of the crazy stunts he pulled off still amaze me.
I want him back.

I'll turn 25 in January. I've decided I'm not getting in a relationship until then. What little dating I've done since Bright Eyes and I broke it off a few weeks ago has been nothing short of disastrous. I want to feel loved and cherished, and this sure seems to be the wrong way to go about getting that feeling back. I miss feeling like there was someone in this world who couldn't live without me. The sick part is, Danger and my exhusband were the only ones who ever gave me that feeling, and with my ex, it was brief.
I want him back.
I need time to heal, and I know this... I'm trying, I really am.

I won't lie, I haven't felt like a very good Baha'i lately.
It's not that I've done anything really wrong, it's just that our community seems so conservative, that I feel like a troublemaker lately. I haven't made a huge effort to attend devotionals on Thursdays, and Ruhi study has been nearly abolished for me lately... I just feel so much better when I'm not trying to focus on memorizing and, well, discussing things with people lately. I've surrounded myself with people, but not ones I wanted to talk to about all of this with. Lady La La is the only one I've kept around that I really would talk to, but she and I have been staying busy with keeping other people around. While she gets me, nobody else needs to know what's going on. She's Baha'i as well, though she's the other rebel child of our community.

As I write this, I'm lying in bed at almost 9pm, which is much earlier than I've seen my bed as of late, with what I'm pretty sure is some minor food poisoning. I never thought it could be so miserable. If it was just my stomach, I wouldn't care, but it feels like it's EVERYTHING. Dehydration, secondary to minor food poisoning sounds about right.

And so it begins, through the eyes of me,
A tale of what my life was never supposed to be....

By The Grace Of God

There aren't words to express how much I miss Danger.
Amongst all the chaos of my life, the pain of losing him is a constant. Though I rarely speak his name lately, as people have, I suspect, grown quite tired of hearing me whine about how sad I am to not be able to speak to him, I doubt there's an hour that passes where he doesn't cross my mind. You would think the tattoos I have by him or the one for him would be more of a reminder, but, mostly, it's everything. No, really. Wal-Mart, tattoos, shoes, my laptop, my facebook, hospitals, myspace, bed, trains, the ocean, the pool, the highway, the couch, movies... Everything.
I don't know how it's possible to hurt so badly and not show symptoms of clinical depression. During the meeting I sat in on with the general, I learned that the average person thinks about death once every three days. I suppose that's about how often my own death has crossed my mind since he's passed. I'll say it again, to ensure nobody freaks out on me: I'm not suicidal. I don't believe in suicide, it's an act of complete ingratitude to God for the gift He gave to each of us. Some part of me, though, looks forward to the day when I see Danger again.
I'm having fun, keeping very busy, and generally enjoying life more than I have in quite some time. I have found a spark of hope in the existence of his life, despite his death feeling like a searing pain in my soul. He was, in my eyes, what Chuck Norris wished he could be. The man was frikking invincible. Kidney stones, asthma, whatever, it didn't phase him. He hung tough through it all. I remember the night I spent in the hospital with him- he kept telling me to go home. Eventually, I fell asleep, leaning forward in my chair next to his bed, so that my forehead was on his shoulder. He didn't wake me up. The nurse called me his wife when we first came in. I automatically responded with 'We're not married.' I was referred to as his girlfriend for the rest of the night. He and I weren't dating at that point. I don't think there was ever a time when I didn't love him.
I want him back.

Death In Life

Death is yin to Life's yang.
It's the opposite, and the equal.
I miss Danger in ways I can't begin to explain.
I realized something today, as I was listening to the CD of Danger's old band, Rubber Log, that his dad had sent me.
I am happier than I've ever been. I've accepted the chaos as the calmest it's going to get, and I'm truly happy. For the first time in my life, I would see no sorrow in dying. I feel, I don't know, serene, in a strange way.
This isn't to say I'd intentionally do anything, I'm not suicidal, I'm just... at peace.

Change Over!

That's different.

I know I've been having a hard time lately, but, oddly, my recent blogs are strangely (for me) devoid of negativity. The only one that really seems negative over these last few weeks is the one where I'm stressing about talking to Bright Eyes. Otherwise, I'm rather impressed by how much more positive my outlook seems to be recently.

I'm not entirely sure what's responsible for the change, though I suspect staying so busy has been beneficial. Naturally, I've been working harder at making it to Feast and what not over at the Baha'i Center, and spending time with Lady La La. It's nice to have a Baha'i friend my own age locally.

So, I may feel like I'm going backwards instead of forward some days, but it sure looks like things are getting better, even if it's difficult to see it in my own life on the day-to-day.

Lady La La, her boyfriend, his friends, me and my sweet-but-redneck friend are going out to the comedy club tonight. I think it's going to be a lot of fun. I always have fun with Lady La La, but this sounds even more interesting than usual for us. I'm so blessed!

Productivity

I'm wishing I were on my own computer writing this one, as I'm sure Ocean has some outstanding quotes about productivity and action.

This morning has been a doozy. I woke up about fifteen-twenty minutes late, and had to get moving pronto to make it to the PT test I had to do medical support for. (Civilians; Soldiers have to take a "PT Test" or "APFT" a minimum of every six months consisting of as many push ups as they can do in 2 minutes, as many sit ups as they can do in 2 minutes and running 2 miles as fast as they can. Medical support consists of sitting there with medical supplies, waiting to see if one of them passes out or hurts themselves, which they generally don't.) So, I'm sitting there with about ten people who all outrank me, including one sergeant major, and I was exhausted. Three hours of sleep and up at 5:15. Uggggh! Anyway, from there, I took the car back to Tumbleweed at the house, he dropped me off at work, and I've been helping the awesome civilian doctor I work with not to freak out about this meeting with the Big Guns we have this afternoon. She's an awesome person, great to work with/for, too. She just gets a little uncomfortable with the whole butt-chewing part of the Army. Nothing wrong with that, she's a civilian. It's understandable. We're a bunch of roughnecks for the most part. We've got the meeting this afternoon, and she's offered to give me a ride home. All this is going on while my email is down, too. Go figure. I'm sure I'll have a lot on my plate tomorrow.