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.

New Life

What would you do if you had the chance to start your life over? I don't mean from day one, but, getting to change things like your occupation, your image, the way you dress, where you live... What would you do?
I'm kind of lucky, because I get to find out.
My contract with the Army will expire in 2013. I have planned to go to nursing school, but there are far more interesting options out there, as well, particularly for someone without attachments. I have planned on staying in the medical field because it's practical and would mean a steady, reliable, income and career.... And cue the theme song of that life:



I could go almost anywhere in the world to teach English. I would give almost anything to be able to travel to India for a year or so. I am absolutely in love with that country, despite it's poverty. Where else do you see the labor-class working happily, if sweatily, in brightly-colored dresses, with cows roaming about as they will, and musicians randomly playing in the streets and all those other eccentricities that go with being a newcomer to a foreign country... India is my dream. Then there's the Baha'i temple there:


I can't even imagine what it would be like to find myself standing in front of that building. I think I would cry.
Tonight, at the Feast of Izzat, a list of open jobs at the various Baha'i temples and such was passed around. I could see myself running off to work at any of the Baha'i temples around the globe, to be honest, even the one in Wilmette, despite it being somewhat less lofty than my aspirations to India.



Still beautiful, no? I would just love to be able to spend my time in any of these places. I briefly met a woman, the mother of three grown girls, if I was following right, who is a Catholic-turned Baha'i. She mentioned how hard it was to be a young adult in this day and age and become a Baha'i. It was astonishing to me that someone understood without it having to be mentioned! She seemed to catch on to my train of thought rather quickly, and I was beyond grateful for this. I think I may seek her out for more conversation, as I struggle to feel comfortable with some folks speaking about subjects that, while pertinent to my life, aren't always a shared issue with folks who were raised as Baha'i. It's a different animal coming into it and modifying behaviors that are perfectly acceptable, even expected, in today's society. Lady LaLa has become my friend, and, I hope, soon will be more like a sister, as we are close in age and understand each other extremely well. This woman, though, well, I wonder if I haven't had a prayer answered tonight...

Lesson Or Loss

Bahá'í marriage is union and cordial affection between the two parties. They must, however, exercise the utmost care and become acquainted with each other's character. This eternal bond should be made secure by a firm covenant, and the intention should be to foster harmony, fellowship and unity and to attain everlasting life...

(Abdu'l-Baha, Baha'i World Faith - Abdu'l-Baha Section, p. 372)

The more I live, the more relationships I see fail- both my own and others'- the more I'm convinced that you can't truly know someone until your relationship has ended at least once. The side of Bright Eyes that I'm seeing now is proving this incredibly, horribly, painfully true. Instead of telling me he's mad and what about, he attacks me using my own feelings against me, saying he can see why I feel so guilty/sorry, etc. He posts stuff he was working on for me, making a point to say he's not doing it anymore, for the whole world to see. My heart is breaking all over again. I needed time, but, right now, he's just one more attacker I need to heal from. How is this the man I love?! How is this the same person I wanted to marry?! I don't understand. Tumbleweed has gone so far as to block his posts from showing up when he's on his facebook, because he saw what I saw- passive aggressive anger- something Tumbleweed (Dad) and I both know so much about.
This reminds me of times I'd rather forget, and I wanted/needed/expected better. I wanted to heal, and, while I had my doubts about my future, now I see that what I wanted wasn't ever what I thought it was.

Lessons In Danger

I laid awake for hours last night missing him.
It's gotten to be a regular thing.
The more time that passes, the more I understand in retrospect, and the more I want to take from what we had and put it to use somewhere in my future. I want to be more like that crazy, perverted, twisted, and incredibly loving and loyal man. (If I get hit by a stray bolt of lightening on my way home today, it's because I just ruined his Tough Guy reputation.)
He accepted everyone just as they were- something I'm far from mastering. I wish I could have been a little more accepting of his quirks, rather than demanding so much from him. He always jumped through the hoops, but he was willing to fight for me, too. Lord, did that boy fight for me. I was so scared, though, and I just kept finding more excuses to push him away. One of the few (two, for the record) chaplains I've ever really liked always used to tell me that true love is pushed without being pushed away. That had Danger down to the letter. I let him go.
His quote on Facebook was "Judging my faith and walking on splinters. I lost my soul to the look in your eyes." Yeah, I know exactly what he meant by that, and I'm not happy with myself over that. I didn't do the best I could with him, and I know it. I gave up because I was scared. I let the little things pile up instead of accepting the ones we couldn't change and being patient about the others. As usual, everything had to be done yesterday, and I was not satisfied if it wasn't. I love him so much, though, and, to some degree, it will always be difficult to love someone else. He loved me in a way that still overwhelms me. I talk to him more or less daily, about as often as I pray these days, which I need to step up on, and I watch Walk The Line- the first movie we watched together- pretty frequently to help me feel better as I try to fall asleep. I talk to him, and, more often than not, can hear what his response would be/is to things I'm thinking about. I miss him desperately. I suppose I'm in the bargaining stage of the grieving process, because last night I was absolutely begging him to come back. I've said it a million times- I'd give anything to have him back. The dreams I have of him are so vivid, so clear, and so overwhelming. I wake up feeling like I'll roll over and he'll be right there next to me, as my husband, where he belongs. This morning was a rather extreme example. As I fell asleep, all I could think is that I'd wake up in Korea, with Starr, my old crazy, Jewish, lesbian roommate, getting ready for PT, and have a text message or email waiting from this man. It didn't happen that way, though, and it breaks my heart. I want a second chance with him, I want that man that I tried so hard to win over, and then let go when it got too scary. I want him back.
There's so much I've learned from him about dealing with people and appreciating them for what they are, but I wish I'd learned it while I still had him, rather than having to lose him for good to really understand it. If/when I have a son, he will be named after this man. I love him that much, and I can only pray to have a son like him.
I'd give anything to have Danger back where he belongs. I can't believe how hard this healing process is, and I still haven't completely accepted that I will never get him back. Last night I had some really unusual thoughts- not urges, but thoughts- about seeing him again, and the process involved in that. It's not something I'd act on, but it disturbed me that it even occurred to me, to be totally honest.
I miss him so much. I am planning the next tattoo work I get, and I am incorporating his memory into it, despite already having an official "memorial" tattoo for him.
Danger, if you're reading this, hearing this, or whatever, please never forget that, while I'm far from perfect, I love you more than any words will ever express and miss you in a way I didn't know I was capable of. The best tattoo you ever did was the one on my heart. Rest in peace, baby, and continue to watch over me. I need your help right now.

Current Events In The Life And Times Of Charli

I ended it a few days ago now, I think, though days are blurring together into a big stream of conversations, emotions and, least of all, for once, events.
I love Bright Eyes dearly, and, I suppose, always will. I got an email this morning, as I pulled out of my drive way this morning (wifi + iPod touch= a blessing and a curse) telling me how angry he was at me. FINALLY! I'd expected this from the jump, but had given up on getting any sort of reaction from him by now.
That sounds incredibly manipulative, doesn't it?
Let me explain. After being raised in a house where manipulation and loud, corrosive, angry arguments are the norm, I have never, ever been able to comprehend someone who doesn't actively (key word) fight for what they want. I don't understand it, literally and figuratively. I will fight, tooth and nail, for what I want most, once I'm sure that's what I want. Not to say I don't have a fickle streak, but things that are deep-seeded wants eventually get past that streak. When it comes to relationships, and people in general, I struggle with understanding their reactions. I'm not sure if it's my competitive nature, or simply my comfort zone that screams 'SOMETHING'S WRONG HERE' every time someone's unwilling to put their negative emotions on display, but it happens with every relationship (all two of them) that it's occurred in. I'm not comfortable with it.
I can get all hopeful and optimistic and say that I think it's just that I don't like feeling like I'm the only one who feels safe enough in our relationship to put those on display, but it's more than likely it's a cross between my comfort zone and the fact that I'm incredibly self-concious about the negative emotions I do display to someone, after all I experienced as a child. I need the passion and pain as much as the loving and gentle. It's a wild, confusing, chaotic sort of balance, but I don't know how to do one without the other. Will I always be this way? I don't know. I'd like to think I'd get more tolerant and less volatile with the years, but maybe I've calmed down as much as I ever will.
One thing I am sure of, though, is something that hit me like a brick after I read the OMG-you-really-are-a-BLEEP email this morning. I feel bad not because I did something wrong, but because I hurt someone. I don't feel bad for my actions, but for the reprecussions. Sounds obvious, I'm sure, but the twist is that if I did my best- and I really did, despite some theories- then I have nothing to hate myself for. I can forgive myself, so long as I know I did my best. I can't make him forgive me. I am still a little confused that all the fighting, the frustration and tears and the times I hung up on him, never to get a call back, that this is when he decided to stand up to me, but none the less, I can't change his feelings. I will, however, need to change my own for things to get any better for my own future, and for this to be a stepping stone, instead of just a slippery rock in the middle of the river.

I have to learn to forgive myself.

So long as I hold on to that Catholic-Guilt Security Blanket, I will not be happy with myself or where I am in my life. Bright Eyes, I love you, but thank you for being mad at me and saying all the things that made me feel like an utter douche bag while I read your email. Non-specific as it was, it put the boot where it needed to be, and, well, I get it now- that one thing I didn't know when I was with you, the thing that made this all so screwed up. Yeah, you fixed it. The thing is, between that email, and knowing that's what it takes to get some fight outta you, I'm not sure I want to go through that again, or put you through that again. I love you, babe, and I always will, and maybe I will feel different someday... I just know that, right now, you are not someone I need to be with. I apologize for hurting you, but I won't hurt myself over it any more.

Motherless Daughter

It's been more obvious by the day lately how much not having a mother figure has impacted my interactions with others. I don't relate to women. I feel fake talking to women, like I have so much to hide, like I'm lying, even when I'm pouring my soul out. I never had that mom that showed me how I was supposed to be, how to handle emotions, how to handle other people or hard times. She showed me how to handle a bottle, and that was more by example than anything. It's no wonder I was so good at hiding my drinking for so many years, and it makes more sense now than ever why she used to stress that we could call her if we got ourselves in a bad situation and couldn't leave because we were drunk- it was the one thing she knew about. I wonder if women who grow up with a real mother understand how different it is for the rest of us. It wasn't just the example stuff, it was the little stuff, too. I didn't learn to braid my own hair until I was 21 and in basic training. She didn't teach me how to drive, my father and a boyfriend I had at 16 or so did all that. I remember relationships that were way more stable than the ones I've had as an adult, and I try to figure out why. I don't know if it was because I needed them to help me when I got kicked out or had to leave my mom's house, or if it's harder now that I understand what I want and what I can't handle and what I've been through. Things have changed since the second rape. Post-traumatic stress disorder, the nightmares, the anger... Then again, it's only been 4 years this month that I've been un-medicated and held responsible for my own emotions and actions. On those medications, I never had feelings. I wasn't allowed to. If I cried, it must be because I hadn't taken my medications. If I didn't like what mom had to say, I must have not taken my medications today. Then I betrayed her and got better. I wasn't ever really sick, you see, but she needs someone to be sick, she needs someone to fix so badly so she never, ever has to look at her alcoholism, at her own actions, at a life where she's not in the spotlight. I'd rather be single for the rest of my life, completely alone, than ever be anything like her. I'm terrified of it. People tell me I'm so strong... I don't see it. I'm trying, but I feel like I fail over and over. I got myself into a relationship with someone I've cared about for a long time, but I broke all my own rules in the process. So, when it ended, and I made that choice, and feel I made the right choice, it's naturally my fault. As if I didn't have the classic sense of Catholic guilt, I apparently need three reminders a day about how much of a bad person I make someone out to be. How am I ever supposed to heal when I just keep getting told what a screw up I am? The pictures of me and Bright Eyes are still next to my bed, the ring he gave me is in my purse (it hurts too much to wear a reminder of all of this) and yet I'm told that me trying to heal from the string of a dozen or so relationships, the death of a man I love more than life, and all the more recent issues that have come to light, while supporting my father and running a clinic, it's all just me running away from a relationship and wanting to screw other men. *Bangs head against wall*
Guess what? If I broke up with you to sleep with some mystery guy(s), it's probably a pretty clear sign that I'm not ready for a serious relationship. Wouldn't that still be a lot like, oh yeah, me not being ready for a relationship? I'm not messing around with anyone, dating anyone, "pursuing options during a night out" as you so eloquently accused me of, but thanks for the vote of confidence. With an understanding heart like that, you must be beating the girls off with a stick up there.
I'm angry, yes. Ninety-percent of this is ranting. I'm tired, I'm hurt, I'm frustrated, I'm overwhelmed, and I just don't want to do it anymore. You want a list of the other things I'd like to quit?

• Being responsible for another human being, especially one (or three) I did not bring into this world
• Being in the U.S. Army where I work 12 hour days and come home with 72 hours worth of stress on my shoulders, and wonder if I'll be able to afford to get out when the time comes.
• Living in a near-stranger's house, because that's the only way someone I love will have a roof over his head
• Automatically being the responsible one and the designated driver every single time I go out because I don't drink.
• Being the daughter of an alcoholic, the survivor of a rape, and the ex-fiance of a dead man

This is all pretty poor-me by my standards, but I'm teetering on an edge, here, and there's a whole lot pushing me one way, while I'm madly scrambling trying to stay on that cliff. Am I perfect? No. Am I trying? Yes. Tonight, instead of going to see my friend who I know would be there for me through hell and high water but is undoubtedly a bad influence and, I'm relatively sure has feelings for me, I came home. Not something I'd normally do. Yet, despite flying accusations of being this horrible person, I am still trying to do the right thing.

A more positive post to follow this rant.

Wasting Time, Wasting Me

It's not a huge secret at this point that I'm struggling with my relationship. Bright Eyes is one of my limited number of regular readers of this blog, and, aside from the fact that I have been avoiding talking to him for the last few days, this makes it that much more known that my head isn't where he would want it to be.
So, this afternoon, I go out to meet a friend at the tattoo shop to hang out with him while he gets some work done. That gets changed because the artist had some things going on. So, we go to lunch, then hit my friend Z's place for a bbq. He passes out, while we're sitting in his backyard with two of his friends. I clean up, do the dishes, put the food away, and such, and leave him a note. Three of us take off to meet a friend of mine at one of the local bars. Around midnight, we grab food at Denny's and then I take the two I came with home. I get home around 4 in the morning- much later than I can reasonably comprehend- and I check facebook real quick, only to see this on my darling Bright Eyes' page:



Here are the lyrics, if you have a hard time understanding the live version.

H E A R T B R E A K I N G

I miss him and I love him- more than words can say- and yet I sit here feeling worse by the breath at what I am putting him through. I want to be ready. I want to be confident and happy and in love and this great woman I know I will be someday, and I want to be that woman for him.

But that's not who I am.

Maybe it never will be.

I enjoy my freedom, the way people react to me, the random conversations in even more random places with people I've never met before in my life... I enjoy this amazing aspect of being single. I have so much responsibility on my plate- it seems like I always have- that this relationship has become a beautiful cage for me. I'm not good at the caged thing. Birds have always been my favorite animal, but they get this sad look in their eyes when they're caged. It's not the same. It's a feeling I relate to and I hate myself for it. I need to get the- pardon my language here- balls up and actually have this conversation with Bright Eyes, but the thought of hurting him is already tearing me apart and I just don't want to hurt him anymore, and what will make me happier will not help him.... I love him, so how is it possible to need to be free like this? It's so overwhelming and so complex and so incredibly PAINFUL! I can't imagine what he's going through, but it feels like talking about it's about to make it so much worse. I'm tired of hurting people. I've never loved someone like this, so I really never thought it would come back to this crap... I never thought I'd want to be without his heart.... And here I am, hating myself, feeling like I made the same mistake again, and I just can't see how I ended up right back here....
I can't keep doing this. I am bordering dangerously close on actions that look an awful lot like my mother's. I won't put a man or a little girl through that hell. I love them both. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's not, I can't even tell anymore. I just know I want to stop hurting him, and I know I can't be the woman he deserves... the one who only laughs for him.... That's not who I am, not right now......
Sorry doesn't even begin to cover this....

The Ketchup Theory

Now, I should explain that my family has a long, murky history with ketchup. So, while a bottle of ketchup may be the last analogy most people would ever think of for their own lives, it's not that far-fetched in my strange little world.

It started, I believe, when my younger sister and I were sitting at the dinner table at my dad's house. Dad had made hot dogs- one of his few culinary achievements that didn't require a special gizmo and an instruction booklet- and my sister wanted to go play with her friends after dinner. When she asked and my father said no, she slammed the plastic ketchup bottle she'd been emptying onto her hot dog back down on to the table. Tumbleweed, in a rare act of laying down the law, responded with the phrase "I can do that, too!" and- I should pause here to mention that this was back when the word "UNBREAKABLE!" was emblazoned upon the front of the new plastic version- well, ketchup and plastic pieces were found for the rest of the time he lived there. The ceiling, in case you were wondering, got quite a bit more than one might expect.

So, while I was out spending time with a friend of mine- Backwoods, we'll call him- we went to see a movie. After the movie, naturally, a woman has to rush to the bathroom because she's been holding that bottle of water and whatever she drank during dinner for seven tenths of the movie. I'm not sure what set the light bulb off, to be honest, but the explanation Tumbleweed gave me about ketchup popped into my head. You see, if you hold the bottle perfectly vertical, you're going to have quite the time getting anything out of it, because the air can't get past all that ketchup trying to come through. If you hold it at a slightly more gentle horizontal angle, though, and don't try so hard to force it, the ketchup will come out just fine. Confused? I continuously put myself in all-or-nothing relationships. For one thing, I've never allowed myself air- no room to breathe. I don't take a break between relationships, I don't give myself time to heal, and, frankly, I pretend a lot of the pain I feel doesn't exist at all. There's more counts of broken hearts and questionable actions than I can begin to explain. I have pretended because these not-quite-relationships weren't put on display, that they couldn't have hurt me. What a load of hooey.

So, here I am, staring down the barrel of the perfect relationship with the most incredible guy I've ever dated- truly, I couldn't have written a script and had his actions and words been more exactly what I needed and wanted- and realizing that all this pain, fear, regret, doubt, hurt, and all manner of other negative emotion is still just sitting there, untouched and unhealed, like a drop of oil on the top of a measuring cup full of water. What's worse, I'm not just involving the man who's been so good to me, but I'm also dragging his wonderful little girl who needs so much to have a woman be there, be a good, reliable, loving example for her, too. Maybe if it was just Bright Eyes, I wouldn't know how badly I'm screwing up by trying to prove my mother wrong instead of trying to heal my wounds before I try to settle down.

I sit here, knowing what the right course of action is for me, yet I have never felt more guilty and more scared to have any conversation in my entire life than the one that I know I should have already had. So I hide.

Faith And Fear

I love Bright Eyes dearly.
I just don't think I can have one more conversation where I have to break down step-by-step what I'm dealing with, though.
I had my 1sg yell at me, in the middle of the street this morning, for doing what I was told to do. I spent last night unpacking a U-Haul trailer, full of my Dad's stuff, the whole time he was talking about the next time we pack it up and move it, which is, undoubtedly, not that far away. I have spent the last few days stressed out, worrying, and trying to get everything done. I have been driving back n forth between here and the town my father just moved from, which is an hour and a half each way, for a month now. I am the NCOIC of a clinic that's still being built, which has it's own, very strange, set of complications and stressors. I am beyond overwhelmed, struggle with my own feelings on a day to day basis, and, lately, have seen fewer days when I did not fall apart crying than ones when I did.
No wonder I don't feel ready for a relationship, never mind marriage. Why can't I just give myself permission to be on my own for a while and not feel guilty for not taking the opportunity to do what I "should" do and get married? I'm so worn out.

A Dream Deferred

I thought I'd marry the one that would fight me when I was wrong, leave the Army to be the wife and mother. I thought I'd never look back, never have regrets, never feel that pain a second time, never hate myself for growing up, and never hurt over someone else's choices ever again.

I was wrong.

It's almost midnight, and I'm sitting up, on the verge of tears, missing so many things I once had. I miss Danger, I miss the marriage I once had, I miss the baby girl I never got to hold, I miss the days I thought I had a real mother, I miss the days I didn't want anything to do with marriage or children, the days before I knew what rape was like, what pain miscarriage could bring, and how haunting nightmares could be. I miss the time when it was simple, or simpler, when parents didn't get old, and the ones that died didn't live in our house. I miss the days when someone else's life wasn't hanging on my decisions, when the word family was something I didn't know enough about to want, when I didn't know what loneliness would be like as an adult. What I'd give to be that pregnant fourteen year old again, not in control of my situation enough to regret it, and not pessimistic enough to want to change what I believed was the inevitable outcome. I believed in myself enough that I would have done anything to give birth to her, and I couldn't imagine ever wanting a man's input in raising her.

I love Bright Eyes, but love is the hardest thing to do. I don't think I'll ever get it right and, truthfully, some days I just don't want to. I'm not the kind of person who should have someone else's life hanging on their choices. I'm too fickle, too emotional to be trusted with the raising of a child or the holding together of a family. I hate being alone, but who in their right mind would want to try to be the one by my side? That's just so much effort, so much trouble, for something so incredibly unstable. I wouldn't want to see my child deal with that.

Expectations

She said I'd never be able to hold a job, so I joined the Army- and re-enlisted.
She said I'd never be able to be in a real relationship, so I got married. (And divorced.)
She said I'd never be able to drive, so I got my license- and never got a ticket or an accident.
She said I'd never be able to be off the medications, so I went through the withdrawals, and stayed off of them.
She said I'd never be able to be a mother, and here I am wanting so desperately to prove her wrong.

Here is my introspection.
I've spent my entire life trying to understand what parts of me come from her, and spent so much energy trying not to be like her and trying to prove her wrong. Right now, part of me is grateful my tubes are tied, so I can't drag two children through the choices I'm making, as she did.
Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes have become my focus. Right or wrong, they've been my goal, my reason for moving forward lately. I've fought hard to stay with Bright Eyes, and I love him, undoubtedly. Tumbleweed has become a straw on a weak camel's back, and Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes that heap of hay that I wonder if I can handle. The Army, will all it's millions of responsibilities and requirements and requests, is a lot to handle. Family is a lot to handle. Dealing with the haunting fears and pains and nightmares and hurts is a lot to handle. A long-distance relationship, particularly where there is a child involved, is a lot to handle.

Do I not know how to take my time? Do I not understand the skills that some people seem to be born with, able to say no when their plate gets full, able to avoid the guilt of not upholding what everyone expects of you? As I was cleaning the last barracks room I am signed for, today, I found a note with three quotes on it, all of them by the Dali Lama, but one that stood out to me, and sucker-punched my heart:

"The moment there is a pattern of what I SHOULD be, there is no comprehension of what I am." -attributed to the Dali Lama.

It's not that I think my father and my boyfriend have particularly astronomical expectations of me, it's that I will never, ever be happy with myself. Ever.
No matter how far I've come, no matter how many people I've proven wrong, I will not be happy. I have to do better, achieve more, stand out more, help more, fix more... I just wonder when- or if, lately- I will be able to say enough is enough without completely breaking, once and for all. I've hit rock bottom before. It's not a place I care to go again. The problem with this is that I know, I know, that if I don't let go of some things soon, I will find myself there again, but I fear that this will be worse than the last, as they always seem to have to be to get my attention, and that I may not come out of this one. Two days ago, I was so sure I wanted to marry Bright Eyes, and I still have no doubt whatsoever that I love this man like I have loved nobody else, and that he's the man I was meant to marry. The problem with this is, I'm having a really hard time doing what I should, because there's just so damm much of it! The things I want, right or wrong, are not the things I should want, the things I should be happy with, the things I should strive for. Having a family is one of the most beautiful things in life. I don't contest that. I just wonder if I'm doing it for the right reasons. How many things can I prove her wrong about before I admit that I'm doing it more to prove her wrong than to make myself happy?

And how many things can I do and be happy about it before I hate myself for not doing what I "should" be doing?

I'm not making any changes until I'm sure, but I really, really want to hide for the entire 4 day weekend. This isn't feasible because of all the "shoulds", especially where my dad is concerned, but there's not much I wouldn't give to feel more like me and less like someone's daughter/girlfriend/Soldier for a while.

I have four and a half months before I have been on this earth for a quarter of a century, and I look back at it all in total awe. I have done a lot of things I wanted to do, but so much of it was for lack of other/better options, or because, well, it was easier to give in to someone else's ideas of what I should do than stand up for my own.

I have considered asking Bright Eyes for a break in our relationship. I love him so much, though, it just seems like I'll lose him for good if I let him go even for a second. And if I do ask for a break, and I realize that I'm not meant for that situation, well, I would never forgive myself for not doing what I should have with him. He loves me in a way I didn't know was possible, and I love him- and his daughter- so much it absolutely hurts. You'd think love like this would make shoulds a lot easier, wouldn't you?