I've been helping my dad pack up his apartment, not that there's much to it.
We came across a DVD he'd made from an old video tape of my second birthday. I'll be turning 25 in January, if that helps you understand quite how much time has passed since then. While it's been 23 years since that video was shot, and only about 6 months less since my parents divorced, it seems like centuries. The entire world has been turned on it's head since then, never mind my own life.
To see my mother as I don't quite remember her- happy, beautiful, sober, loving- brought me to tears with a quickness. My sister was 8 months old, and my mom held her and kissed us both. She was amazing in that video, everything a mother is supposed to be. What in the world happened?
I know more than I'd like about the divorce- horror stories put on display by my mother raised a lot of questions for me, as most of what I'd been told throughout my life simply didn't make sense once I became an adult and was able to put all the pieces together for myself. Small questions brought about massive answers, and made me realize at twenty-one what I never was allowed to or capable of grasping while under my mother's roof. It would bring about a disaster of monumental proportions, even today, should I choose to bring these matters up to either my sister or my mother. It's something we all know, and something I'm punished for attempting, regardless of the intention. I've seen it before, and am far beyond thinking that it will ever change. Sunset may have my sister convinced she's sober, but it would only take one word from me to begin receiving phone calls at all hours of the night, being yelled at and accused, by a drunk, angry woman over 2,000 miles away. It's something I know without understanding. My sister accepts this all, and assumes it is her duty to keep everyone at peace, without actually working towards progress of any sort. As long as I keep my mouth shut, everyone is happy. God forbid anyone in this family begin to heal.
I am finally beginning to really let it go, and accept there is no changing it. I don't think this will be one of my easier tasks, but I hope that it, like other mountains I have conquered, helps me grow in ways I wasn't capable of understanding when I began the trek.
My grandmother, on my father's side, said something my dad mentioned to me the other day. When she first laid eyes on me, she looked at Tumbleweed and said "Don't you just see the devil in her eyes?" That woman sure knew what she was talking about. She saw the wild streak, the side of me that was like she'd wanted and tried to be, the one who would never quit. Dad now understands what she meant all those years ago.
I am trying to come to terms with everything, so I may be the wife and mother I want to be when Bright Eyes and I start a family together. This is, by far, the scariest thing I've ever contemplated.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
My Hero
I have just stumbled across this article on Tahiri, the first female disciple of The Bab. For those non-Baha'i folks, The Bab was the John The Baptist of the Baha'i faith. He was the guy who came along and said 'Guess who's coming to dinner!' He caught all sorts of fire and brimstone over that from the religious leadership, too.
Tahiri absolutely fascinates me. This is incredible timing for me, as I have been blathering on lately about having a massive gaping whole Sunset (my mother) should have been. Despite not having a woman parental/mentoring type figure in my day-to-day life, perhaps this is my ray of light in the darkness of the path I've wandered, a way to look up to a woman, for a change. I've spent almost 25 years looking up to men, adopting and being adopted by men and boys and taking them as my brothers, while struggling to relate to women. I've never competed with women on any level, because you can't compete with someone you don't relate to. If I don't see how they are similar to me, I can't see how we can do the same or better than one another. Only recently have I begun trying to see these similarities. I see my strengths reflect in people's appreciation for how I deal with them, but it has not been my focus, as much as I think it should, to help heal one of the, in my opinion, most split and collapsing demographics in society- women. The media, as a whole, encourages this horrible judgment and mistreatment of our own bodies, and, by default, on one another. We compare ourselves on the most shallow, superficial level we possibly could. We allow these superficial things- not to mention deeper but still irrelevant issues like race- to create a rift amongst what could so easily be the absolute strongest force on the planet. Women are renowned for their beauty, strength and grace among the worst conditions. We are incredibly resilient as a gender, and not only are we resilient, we are MADE FOR RESILIENCY. Yes, capital letters, I don't use those often. We give birth to children- an astronomically taxing process- only to watch our bodies heal in order to be able to do this again and again and again and again.
Tahirih was imprisoned repeatedly, but continued to stand by her faith. She continued to push for the rights of her sisters, by doing things unheard of in that part of the world (Persia, modern day Iran) and particularly in the Islamic faith. She unveiled herself repeatedly, once even at a religious conference, and, instead of reacting to the violent and horrific response she got, she continued right along with her speech, telling them what she thought, and refusing to give in to their rules and their expectations. After this, she was put under house arrest once again. Big surprise, right? One guy cut his own throat upon seeing an unveiled woman in public! While she was under house arrest, women flocked to see this revolutionary who was absolutely bursting at the seams with faith and knowledge and hope. Now this is the woman I want to be like! One who leads and encourages her sisters, instead of judging and looking down on them, or herself!
I've been told several times that my way of explaining the Faith is far more personal, more individually-oriented than most blogs that speak of the Baha'i life. I've payed enough attention to what my fellow Baha'is write that I know it to be true. I am an extremely forward person, by nature, and I see no use in dancing around a subject, or pretending something doesn't exist. While our Faith will, undoubtedly, have a world-wide impact (it already has, in case you weren't aware, although I may be a tad bias) any passion must start in a very personal place.
It seems like obstacles are a way of life for me- one of those crazy parts of me that my horoscope hit dead-on- I am forever trying to climb the next mountain. I am only human, and have my own struggles and flaws. I always will. I pray, so often, for God's strength in overcoming the rhythm I have begun to finally recognize, and, through that, found a way to cope with, if not completely control. This has begun to feel almost confession-like, so, Dear Friends, please forgive me if this next bit is a bit drawn-out or cryptic. While I assume most of this is hormonal, it is easily recognized as cyclical. It's not PMS or any such thing, though I assume it is, in some way, related to similar hormones. I think this is one of those things most women learn to cope with by watching their mothers, but I haven't had that chance. So, here I sit, learning to deal with a few days of sheer, overwhelming frustration at my own place in life, at the circumstances I find myself in, at the things I haven't done and might not get to do. I get angry, I get mean, and, more often than not, do a fantastic job of pushing away those who have made the effort to put up with my eccentricities and less-tolerable qualities. I'm sure all this rings a bell to every man out there as PMS, but timing says it's something slightly different, though I certainly can't put a better label on it. None the less, I see it happen, I see the questions arise, the second-guessing, the frustration, and the damage I inflict upon my relationships. Some have taken more damage than others- I couldn't tell you the number of relationships that came to a screeching halt after a single day of this. Bright Eyes, honestly, has withstood what I thought would be the end of any relationship I might want to keep. I can only hope he will continue to stand by me this way. I never expected to fall in love with someone who won't fight me, as, surely, passion is both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness, but here I am, contemplating what marriage would mean for my life, as well as his and that of Angel Eyes. I've been considering an attempt at getting my tubes untied- a surgery I had done during that time of darkness when my mother had more influence on my life than I did- because I can't imagine not wanting to build a family with Bright Eyes. I am teaching him about the Faith I love so dearly, and planning a future that, most days, I can't imagine without him.
So, my friends, while this may have been one of the longest posts you've ever read (assuming you didn't skip 90% of this as I, with my rather short attention span, may have), I appreciate your willingness to be on the receiving end of my blathering and ranting.
Tahiri absolutely fascinates me. This is incredible timing for me, as I have been blathering on lately about having a massive gaping whole Sunset (my mother) should have been. Despite not having a woman parental/mentoring type figure in my day-to-day life, perhaps this is my ray of light in the darkness of the path I've wandered, a way to look up to a woman, for a change. I've spent almost 25 years looking up to men, adopting and being adopted by men and boys and taking them as my brothers, while struggling to relate to women. I've never competed with women on any level, because you can't compete with someone you don't relate to. If I don't see how they are similar to me, I can't see how we can do the same or better than one another. Only recently have I begun trying to see these similarities. I see my strengths reflect in people's appreciation for how I deal with them, but it has not been my focus, as much as I think it should, to help heal one of the, in my opinion, most split and collapsing demographics in society- women. The media, as a whole, encourages this horrible judgment and mistreatment of our own bodies, and, by default, on one another. We compare ourselves on the most shallow, superficial level we possibly could. We allow these superficial things- not to mention deeper but still irrelevant issues like race- to create a rift amongst what could so easily be the absolute strongest force on the planet. Women are renowned for their beauty, strength and grace among the worst conditions. We are incredibly resilient as a gender, and not only are we resilient, we are MADE FOR RESILIENCY. Yes, capital letters, I don't use those often. We give birth to children- an astronomically taxing process- only to watch our bodies heal in order to be able to do this again and again and again and again.
Tahirih was imprisoned repeatedly, but continued to stand by her faith. She continued to push for the rights of her sisters, by doing things unheard of in that part of the world (Persia, modern day Iran) and particularly in the Islamic faith. She unveiled herself repeatedly, once even at a religious conference, and, instead of reacting to the violent and horrific response she got, she continued right along with her speech, telling them what she thought, and refusing to give in to their rules and their expectations. After this, she was put under house arrest once again. Big surprise, right? One guy cut his own throat upon seeing an unveiled woman in public! While she was under house arrest, women flocked to see this revolutionary who was absolutely bursting at the seams with faith and knowledge and hope. Now this is the woman I want to be like! One who leads and encourages her sisters, instead of judging and looking down on them, or herself!
I've been told several times that my way of explaining the Faith is far more personal, more individually-oriented than most blogs that speak of the Baha'i life. I've payed enough attention to what my fellow Baha'is write that I know it to be true. I am an extremely forward person, by nature, and I see no use in dancing around a subject, or pretending something doesn't exist. While our Faith will, undoubtedly, have a world-wide impact (it already has, in case you weren't aware, although I may be a tad bias) any passion must start in a very personal place.
It seems like obstacles are a way of life for me- one of those crazy parts of me that my horoscope hit dead-on- I am forever trying to climb the next mountain. I am only human, and have my own struggles and flaws. I always will. I pray, so often, for God's strength in overcoming the rhythm I have begun to finally recognize, and, through that, found a way to cope with, if not completely control. This has begun to feel almost confession-like, so, Dear Friends, please forgive me if this next bit is a bit drawn-out or cryptic. While I assume most of this is hormonal, it is easily recognized as cyclical. It's not PMS or any such thing, though I assume it is, in some way, related to similar hormones. I think this is one of those things most women learn to cope with by watching their mothers, but I haven't had that chance. So, here I sit, learning to deal with a few days of sheer, overwhelming frustration at my own place in life, at the circumstances I find myself in, at the things I haven't done and might not get to do. I get angry, I get mean, and, more often than not, do a fantastic job of pushing away those who have made the effort to put up with my eccentricities and less-tolerable qualities. I'm sure all this rings a bell to every man out there as PMS, but timing says it's something slightly different, though I certainly can't put a better label on it. None the less, I see it happen, I see the questions arise, the second-guessing, the frustration, and the damage I inflict upon my relationships. Some have taken more damage than others- I couldn't tell you the number of relationships that came to a screeching halt after a single day of this. Bright Eyes, honestly, has withstood what I thought would be the end of any relationship I might want to keep. I can only hope he will continue to stand by me this way. I never expected to fall in love with someone who won't fight me, as, surely, passion is both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness, but here I am, contemplating what marriage would mean for my life, as well as his and that of Angel Eyes. I've been considering an attempt at getting my tubes untied- a surgery I had done during that time of darkness when my mother had more influence on my life than I did- because I can't imagine not wanting to build a family with Bright Eyes. I am teaching him about the Faith I love so dearly, and planning a future that, most days, I can't imagine without him.
So, my friends, while this may have been one of the longest posts you've ever read (assuming you didn't skip 90% of this as I, with my rather short attention span, may have), I appreciate your willingness to be on the receiving end of my blathering and ranting.
See You In The Light
Michael Franti is easily one of my all-time favorite artists. See You In The Light is an incredible song. There is one line in this song that hit me like a brick the very first time I heard it: If you want to scare away the vampires, simply guide them into the light.
How true is that? I'm not on my own computer as I write this, so my beloved Ocean program is not within my reach, and Google is, for once, failing me on Baha'i quotes on guiding or leading one's fellow man into the light.
I have so many friends who drink and, well, do other things that just aren't good for them, and sometimes trying to guide them to the light is an awful lot like trying to nail jello to a tree. I try, though, and many of them eventually at least question what it's like to be sober/Baha'i/etc. I'm always very happy when they ask these questions, because it means they are, somewhere in their own mind, comparing my choices to ones they could make. I am so much happier since I quit drinking, I enjoy life so much more. Some folks assume it's because I was so wrapped up in alcohol that I wasn't enjoying life. It wasn't quite that way, though. I was an alcoholic at one point and time, yes, but to say I wasn't having fun would have been wrong. There were many years (I drank for nearly a decade of my life) that I was able to control my drinking, and that I enjoyed going out, and had fun and drank. However, even in the best moments, there was that element of awareness I had to have- what most people hear as merely "drinking responsibly". Being aware of how much you're drinking, and being able to keep it at a place where you're not worried of being taken advantage of, or doing something ridiculous/violent. Being sober has removed that need for vigilance. Now, I go out, and I can dance on the bars, do cartwheels across the park, whatever the heck I want to, and know that, come morning, I won't be any more concerned about making that choice than I was when I did it in the first place.
It took me a long time to lose control of my drinking, and a bit longer to understand what I needed to do, but I did it. September 21st will be 18 months sober, and I'm proud of myself. I went out to watch the UFC fight last night (something I enjoy despite it's inherent violence) and watched people get really ignorant. There was a lot of alcohol, naturally, and I watched beers and jello shots being downed by my friends. One got so drunk he walked into his parent's glass kitchen door hard enough to break it. How that's possible, I don't know, but he did. I can't possibly explain how happy I am not to have to worry about that stuff anymore! I got a lot of smack over it at first, people trying to get me to drink, but now, it's pretty much down to one 'You sure you don't want a drink?' per every couple of people, and usually only the first time I'm around them. It's so much cheaper this way, too.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Boss Lady
Bossman says to get ready for the promotion board, and my duty position is NCOIC of the clinic.
NCOIC.
NonCommissioned Officer In Charge.
I'm not even an NCO yet, but that hasn't deterred him.
I'm so excited!
Meanwhile, I've barely been sleeping, and I look/feel like a zombie. I'm planning on sleeping in my car during lunch- I don't know how else I'll survive the day. I've fallen asleep twice at my desk, mid-action. Ugh. Part of me absolutely hates that sleep is so vital for our existence.
NCOIC.
NonCommissioned Officer In Charge.
I'm not even an NCO yet, but that hasn't deterred him.
I'm so excited!
Meanwhile, I've barely been sleeping, and I look/feel like a zombie. I'm planning on sleeping in my car during lunch- I don't know how else I'll survive the day. I've fallen asleep twice at my desk, mid-action. Ugh. Part of me absolutely hates that sleep is so vital for our existence.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Digging Up New Pain To Heal
It's true.
Try as I might, I can't think of a single positive female role model that's been around for any real period of time in my life. Not one!
No wonder I'm so screwed up.
I'm a total mess today, and I know it. I was tired all day, and had to deal with some really disappointing Soldiers- not a one of them lower in rank than me. Some are great, but some just frustrate the daylights out of me.
Another thought I've had rolling around in my brain is the reaction I get when people hear one of my many nicknames for the first time. Lately, I prefer Charli by a long shot. That very much feels like who I am and who I want to be. Many societies throughout the world didn't look at names as a life-long ordeal. People's names changed with them. I've always liked that way of thinking, it's so much easier to be proud of my name when my name isn't just something my mother picked out of a book before I was born. My given names didn't have any special meaning to my parents, so they sure never have to me. I've joked about it all, but I really like the traditional meaning of my names, but, well, they're lacking in personal meaning. Charli is taken both from my Dad's middle name and from the movie Long Kiss Goodnight. While Charlie Baltimore isn't the nicest woman in the world, she's a woman with a story, and she's tougher than nails. I can relate to that, and need to be reminded that I've been through some things and I'm stronger than I feel most days, especially lately. I just feel so run over.
Between a senior officer making it fairly clear he has no intention of ever liking me, an NCO making a fumbling mess out of what was left of my work day by the time she decided to get back in the game, Tumbleweed called. He was feeling overwhelmed again, like he shouldn't be leaning on me. We go through this at least twice a week. I have to remind him that I wouldn't be taking care of him if I didn't want to, and that I love him and he's stuck with me. My biggest fear is that one of these days, this phone call will come when I'm at my wits end, like I feel right now, and my reaction will be overwhelmed, frustrated and angry, instead of patient and understanding, which is what I know he needs. I'm trying so hard, and I know this has to be harder on him than I can imagine, but suddenly being someone's financial and emotional anchor is incredibly, incredibly overwhelming. The Army is such a pain with the red tape and such that it makes easy things difficult, but, make no mistake, this business of being your parent's caretaker is not on the easy list, in any world.
Try as I might, I can't think of a single positive female role model that's been around for any real period of time in my life. Not one!
No wonder I'm so screwed up.
I'm a total mess today, and I know it. I was tired all day, and had to deal with some really disappointing Soldiers- not a one of them lower in rank than me. Some are great, but some just frustrate the daylights out of me.
Another thought I've had rolling around in my brain is the reaction I get when people hear one of my many nicknames for the first time. Lately, I prefer Charli by a long shot. That very much feels like who I am and who I want to be. Many societies throughout the world didn't look at names as a life-long ordeal. People's names changed with them. I've always liked that way of thinking, it's so much easier to be proud of my name when my name isn't just something my mother picked out of a book before I was born. My given names didn't have any special meaning to my parents, so they sure never have to me. I've joked about it all, but I really like the traditional meaning of my names, but, well, they're lacking in personal meaning. Charli is taken both from my Dad's middle name and from the movie Long Kiss Goodnight. While Charlie Baltimore isn't the nicest woman in the world, she's a woman with a story, and she's tougher than nails. I can relate to that, and need to be reminded that I've been through some things and I'm stronger than I feel most days, especially lately. I just feel so run over.
Between a senior officer making it fairly clear he has no intention of ever liking me, an NCO making a fumbling mess out of what was left of my work day by the time she decided to get back in the game, Tumbleweed called. He was feeling overwhelmed again, like he shouldn't be leaning on me. We go through this at least twice a week. I have to remind him that I wouldn't be taking care of him if I didn't want to, and that I love him and he's stuck with me. My biggest fear is that one of these days, this phone call will come when I'm at my wits end, like I feel right now, and my reaction will be overwhelmed, frustrated and angry, instead of patient and understanding, which is what I know he needs. I'm trying so hard, and I know this has to be harder on him than I can imagine, but suddenly being someone's financial and emotional anchor is incredibly, incredibly overwhelming. The Army is such a pain with the red tape and such that it makes easy things difficult, but, make no mistake, this business of being your parent's caretaker is not on the easy list, in any world.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Build-A-Life
I miss having The Royal Family around.
We were crazy, and weird, and probably should have gotten in a lot more trouble than we did, but we were happy together. G, B, Ku, Marsha, Huggy, Nasean, and me, the crazy ass little sister. I miss them.
It's weird building a new life. I've got Baha'i friends which are a huge plus, and I've got friends all over the world... but here at Bliss, things just seem so empty sometimes. I miss having that family, those people who knew me better than anyone, and put up with my crap. I suppose some of my habits are leftover from past experiences with believers of different flavors, but I have a hard time really opening up to my fellow Baha'i folks. There's one girl I seem to have a lot in common with, but more on a personality level than an experience level, which is confusing to me sometimes. She was raised a Baha'i, and she's Persian, if I'm following everything right. She's the funky, young one in the community, with green streaks in her hair, and a new piercing every few weeks. I don't have the first clue how to open up to another woman. When was the last time I had a really close female friend that wasn't across the map? Oh yeah, Rachel... the "sister" who cut me out of her and her son's life because she didn't like the way I treated a guy I dated, but wouldn't tell me so for months. Maybe that's why it's so scary for me to let myself trust another woman. Some girls have 'Daddy Issues' but my issues, despite sexual abuse, center mostly on the alcoholic, abusive, determined-to-be-miserable mother I was born to. You know, I've never really had any other woman step up and try to be there, either. I'm really struggling to think of any positive female role models I've ever had. I suppose that's why I cling to the thought of my Dad's mom so much.
I want life to be different, I do. I want to be able to connect with people- not just on the level that they understand, but one where I feel like I'm getting something out of it, too. I've been closed up for so long. The very little true intimacy I've experienced was typically under some of the most painful or negative circumstances- a friend who's marriage was in trouble, while I needed someone to lean on, or a friend who'd just been raped, something where my opening up benefited the other person as much, if not more, than it did me.
I was never able to open up to Danger like that, and I realize now that I really do walk that fine line with Bright Eyes. I'm scared, I suppose, to be honest with him about everything. I've got such a horrible wild streak, it's seemed for so long that nobody would ever be able to love me if they knew it all. I push him away, and, even when I don't, I don't let him in like I should. I don't let anyone in like I should. Tumbleweed is getting pushed away harder than anyone, and he has no idea. I love the man dearly, but it's very hard to take care of myself when I let someone else's emotions too close to my own, and his are so overwhelming to begin with... Kid has been reaching out to me, and I think he sees that I'm hurting. I think it must be more obvious than I realize. I never was good at hiding my emotions.
I want to marry Bright Eyes and spend the rest of my life with him- I know he's the person I'm meant to be with- but I wonder if I'm ready to face forever. Sometimes, especially when things are hard, I wish I could put us on pause while I go crazy for a bit, so I can come back to this beautiful thing I have with him when I feel more prepared. It's so scary, realizing that it won't be long before there is no action that doesn't effect those people who you love most. It's one thing to realize that each action effects other people- that's heavy enough, sometimes- but to be part of a family, and know, without a doubt, every minute you choose to spend away from the home, every word you speak, every penny you spend, every mile per hour you drive has an effect on the person who you promised eternity to, on a child, on your parent... You want to talk about heavy, try taking all of that on at once. It's overwhelming under the best circumstances. If you think these are the best circumstances, welcome to my blog, you must be new here.
I really feel like Danger has become my angel. I have never been sure how much I believe in angels or spirits in terms of interaction with our world as we know it, but I know that when I was home at lunch today, and sat quietly, as his father had told me to when I wanted to speak to him, and, just as I thought I was going to cry, felt what I was sure was a kiss... Well, maybe I'm just finally overwhelmed beyond sanity, but it makes me feel better every single time I've felt him here with me. Yes, there have been other times.
I have spoken a few times recently about feeling stressed out over my current relationship with Bright Eyes. Please don't take it as me wanting to end it. Honestly, the only circumstances I can imagine giving this up for is if the guilt of our happiness after the loss of Danger becomes truly overwhelming. I love Bright Eyes, in a way I didn't think possible. I have had a dear friend, Tank, if you recall, make me promise to make an effort to make things work with Bright Eyes. Tank sees how good he is for me, and wants me to finally get it right. He knows how sure I am that this is where I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life. Danger's Dad has also made comments to the effect of me making a point of being even closer to Bright Eyes than I ever was before during all of this. This was a tremendous shove in that direction, and made me feel much better about how Danger must have felt about Bright Eyes and I getting together.
This was not at all what I intended to write about, but clearing my head after 11pm after a very long, busy day, well, I suppose this is what happens. Goodnight, Family.
I love you, Bright Eyes.
We were crazy, and weird, and probably should have gotten in a lot more trouble than we did, but we were happy together. G, B, Ku, Marsha, Huggy, Nasean, and me, the crazy ass little sister. I miss them.
It's weird building a new life. I've got Baha'i friends which are a huge plus, and I've got friends all over the world... but here at Bliss, things just seem so empty sometimes. I miss having that family, those people who knew me better than anyone, and put up with my crap. I suppose some of my habits are leftover from past experiences with believers of different flavors, but I have a hard time really opening up to my fellow Baha'i folks. There's one girl I seem to have a lot in common with, but more on a personality level than an experience level, which is confusing to me sometimes. She was raised a Baha'i, and she's Persian, if I'm following everything right. She's the funky, young one in the community, with green streaks in her hair, and a new piercing every few weeks. I don't have the first clue how to open up to another woman. When was the last time I had a really close female friend that wasn't across the map? Oh yeah, Rachel... the "sister" who cut me out of her and her son's life because she didn't like the way I treated a guy I dated, but wouldn't tell me so for months. Maybe that's why it's so scary for me to let myself trust another woman. Some girls have 'Daddy Issues' but my issues, despite sexual abuse, center mostly on the alcoholic, abusive, determined-to-be-miserable mother I was born to. You know, I've never really had any other woman step up and try to be there, either. I'm really struggling to think of any positive female role models I've ever had. I suppose that's why I cling to the thought of my Dad's mom so much.
I want life to be different, I do. I want to be able to connect with people- not just on the level that they understand, but one where I feel like I'm getting something out of it, too. I've been closed up for so long. The very little true intimacy I've experienced was typically under some of the most painful or negative circumstances- a friend who's marriage was in trouble, while I needed someone to lean on, or a friend who'd just been raped, something where my opening up benefited the other person as much, if not more, than it did me.
I was never able to open up to Danger like that, and I realize now that I really do walk that fine line with Bright Eyes. I'm scared, I suppose, to be honest with him about everything. I've got such a horrible wild streak, it's seemed for so long that nobody would ever be able to love me if they knew it all. I push him away, and, even when I don't, I don't let him in like I should. I don't let anyone in like I should. Tumbleweed is getting pushed away harder than anyone, and he has no idea. I love the man dearly, but it's very hard to take care of myself when I let someone else's emotions too close to my own, and his are so overwhelming to begin with... Kid has been reaching out to me, and I think he sees that I'm hurting. I think it must be more obvious than I realize. I never was good at hiding my emotions.
I want to marry Bright Eyes and spend the rest of my life with him- I know he's the person I'm meant to be with- but I wonder if I'm ready to face forever. Sometimes, especially when things are hard, I wish I could put us on pause while I go crazy for a bit, so I can come back to this beautiful thing I have with him when I feel more prepared. It's so scary, realizing that it won't be long before there is no action that doesn't effect those people who you love most. It's one thing to realize that each action effects other people- that's heavy enough, sometimes- but to be part of a family, and know, without a doubt, every minute you choose to spend away from the home, every word you speak, every penny you spend, every mile per hour you drive has an effect on the person who you promised eternity to, on a child, on your parent... You want to talk about heavy, try taking all of that on at once. It's overwhelming under the best circumstances. If you think these are the best circumstances, welcome to my blog, you must be new here.
I really feel like Danger has become my angel. I have never been sure how much I believe in angels or spirits in terms of interaction with our world as we know it, but I know that when I was home at lunch today, and sat quietly, as his father had told me to when I wanted to speak to him, and, just as I thought I was going to cry, felt what I was sure was a kiss... Well, maybe I'm just finally overwhelmed beyond sanity, but it makes me feel better every single time I've felt him here with me. Yes, there have been other times.
I have spoken a few times recently about feeling stressed out over my current relationship with Bright Eyes. Please don't take it as me wanting to end it. Honestly, the only circumstances I can imagine giving this up for is if the guilt of our happiness after the loss of Danger becomes truly overwhelming. I love Bright Eyes, in a way I didn't think possible. I have had a dear friend, Tank, if you recall, make me promise to make an effort to make things work with Bright Eyes. Tank sees how good he is for me, and wants me to finally get it right. He knows how sure I am that this is where I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life. Danger's Dad has also made comments to the effect of me making a point of being even closer to Bright Eyes than I ever was before during all of this. This was a tremendous shove in that direction, and made me feel much better about how Danger must have felt about Bright Eyes and I getting together.
This was not at all what I intended to write about, but clearing my head after 11pm after a very long, busy day, well, I suppose this is what happens. Goodnight, Family.
I love you, Bright Eyes.
Naturally Faithful
My breakfast was a fruit pie- you know, one of those sugar-laden, glazed ones you get cheap at the corner store. So, lunch rolled around (late) and I'm hungry, but I just don't feel like eating. So, I'm driving back to the house to get a few minutes of alone time for prayer and maybe some meditation if I have time, not to mention writing, of course, and I think to myself 'I think I'm going to do some fasting.'
Wait, what?
Where did that come from?
When did it become easy for me not to eat, or realize that I just wanted to clear myself of the icky stuff?
So it continues, one day leads to the next, and, with each, I realize that something, somewhere along the lines, has gotten through to me. It's a strange feeling this coming into my own. I feel like an adult in the most positive sense of the word, and it's more than a little strange to me.
Wait, what?
Where did that come from?
When did it become easy for me not to eat, or realize that I just wanted to clear myself of the icky stuff?
So it continues, one day leads to the next, and, with each, I realize that something, somewhere along the lines, has gotten through to me. It's a strange feeling this coming into my own. I feel like an adult in the most positive sense of the word, and it's more than a little strange to me.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Understatement Of Understanding
As I sat there, thinking about choices I've made, both recently and in my more distant past, I had a startling, if rather "duh" realization: At some point in your life, you have to acknowledge that the chaos that exists inextricably in your life exists there because you want it there.
Sounds like a real forehead-slapper, doesn't it?
To most people, I assume, that's one of those anti-climatic realizations. For me, it was what my favorite drill sergeant in basic training called an 'Oh Shit!' moment. (Pardon my language.) It was a moment- like that pause between a preparatory command and it's correlating command of execution- where you realize what you're about to have to face.
It seems like I spend more time facing myself than anything else, these days.
It's so odd to me that so many people have this incredible opinion of me, and that I understand other people so well, it's just incredibly plain to me what their reasoning and thought process is, or at the minimum their motivation, yet, when it comes to myself, it takes an act of God to get through to me. Does that make any sense to anyone?!
I have struggled with a Catholic sense of guilt for as long as I can remember. I have always felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and have, more often than not, got it into my head that something so incredibly out of my realm of control was entirely my fault. This is just the way I operate. So, the only thing I've ever really struggled with other people on is those who feel no sense of responsibility for things clearly attributed to them. I start feeling guilty if I think something even vaguely looks like it might be fault from another person's perspective! This is all very odd, though, if you remember that I grew up being told that my own actions and words were not in my control and, therefor, not my fault. The guilt was there, but the true comprehension of preventing or controlling the outcome? That took me until I was into my twenties- and some days, like this one, I'm realizing there's still so much more I have to learn about this personal responsibility business.
Another recent realization- if I handle things as they come at me, instead of taking time with one "small" thing and then realizing that I suddenly have four not-so-small things in my lap, that my stress level will probably go to zero. Again, what might be a complete "duh" moment for other people, a definite light bulb moment for me. Sad, but true.
So, I've been reading a book called Eat, Pray, Love. I'm thrilled by this book, and it's convinced me I need to work a little bit harder at forgiving myself, and not kicking my own butt as much as I tend to. I think it'll make life a lot easier- or at least minimize the stress that comes with living inside this head of mine.
I'm trying. If nothing else, Lord, please know that I'm trying.
Sounds like a real forehead-slapper, doesn't it?
To most people, I assume, that's one of those anti-climatic realizations. For me, it was what my favorite drill sergeant in basic training called an 'Oh Shit!' moment. (Pardon my language.) It was a moment- like that pause between a preparatory command and it's correlating command of execution- where you realize what you're about to have to face.
It seems like I spend more time facing myself than anything else, these days.
It's so odd to me that so many people have this incredible opinion of me, and that I understand other people so well, it's just incredibly plain to me what their reasoning and thought process is, or at the minimum their motivation, yet, when it comes to myself, it takes an act of God to get through to me. Does that make any sense to anyone?!
I have struggled with a Catholic sense of guilt for as long as I can remember. I have always felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and have, more often than not, got it into my head that something so incredibly out of my realm of control was entirely my fault. This is just the way I operate. So, the only thing I've ever really struggled with other people on is those who feel no sense of responsibility for things clearly attributed to them. I start feeling guilty if I think something even vaguely looks like it might be fault from another person's perspective! This is all very odd, though, if you remember that I grew up being told that my own actions and words were not in my control and, therefor, not my fault. The guilt was there, but the true comprehension of preventing or controlling the outcome? That took me until I was into my twenties- and some days, like this one, I'm realizing there's still so much more I have to learn about this personal responsibility business.
Another recent realization- if I handle things as they come at me, instead of taking time with one "small" thing and then realizing that I suddenly have four not-so-small things in my lap, that my stress level will probably go to zero. Again, what might be a complete "duh" moment for other people, a definite light bulb moment for me. Sad, but true.
So, I've been reading a book called Eat, Pray, Love. I'm thrilled by this book, and it's convinced me I need to work a little bit harder at forgiving myself, and not kicking my own butt as much as I tend to. I think it'll make life a lot easier- or at least minimize the stress that comes with living inside this head of mine.
I'm trying. If nothing else, Lord, please know that I'm trying.
Happy Birthday, Angel Eyes!
Angel Eyes technically turns five years old tomorrow, but her birthday party is today. I have a ton of stuff here for her that I need to send off, but haven't gotten to yet.
It sucks that I can't be there for her birthday, but I'm proud of her none the less. From what Bright Eyes tells me, it seems like things are moving along so that when the time is right for him to move down here, the transition for Angel Eyes won't be too terribly rough. He's already had the discussion with Dragon Lady, and, well, she'll be okay with it. She seems to understand where her mistakes have been, though she continues to be pretty unreliable, which hurts Angel Eyes more than anyone else. I feel so helpless with all of this.
I'm glad things are getting back to normal-ish with Bright Eyes. My temper has settled a lot, and my stress is going down (and I'm learning to handle it a little better) so less is getting lodged at him in random spurts of frustration. I'm still overwhelmed and stressed out, but certainly less so than I have been. I love Bright Eyes very much, and I am eager to have these two loves of my life here with me. I am looking forward to them meeting the Baha'i community quite a bit, which is a great feeling. I think Angel Eyes will do incredibly well with the kids here that we have around her age group and even some of the slightly older ones. Bright Eyes, I'm sure, will have to adapt a bit to being around a faith-centered community, as it's not been his focal point, but I think he'll relate to it all and feel a great deal more comfortable than he anticipates.
I'm getting ready to go get some food with a friend, as I haven't eaten yet, and he offered. I'm exhausted simply because of low blood sugar, I think. I slept more than I expected to, all things considered.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Dangerous Love
Danger-
I miss your big bear hugs and knowing that my friend would be there, no matter what, no matter how long it had been since we'd seen one another. There are so many things I want to say to you, and so many more I wish I'd gotten to ask you, but mostly, I think you know. You taught me to look at life in an entirely different way, and there will never be enough ways to say thank you for the good you did me. I know you're at peace in a way I struggle to comprehend. I've always believed that those that find peace in life are those who struggle the least after death. You were always very calm and clear about what you believed, it never worried you much. You were always happy, always smiling. You always wanted me to smile. I wasn't ready for that. I feel guilt every single day for not marrying you, for letting you go, for not begging you to take me back- you would have. You loved me in a way I'll never be able to understand. You were able to love me in a way I've never been able to love anyone, despite my efforts. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. I know some members of your family undoubtedly have some negative feelings towards me, and I can't shake that horrible sense of longing for that feeling like I belonged among your family that I had when we were together. Babe, you have a place in my heart that nobody else can ever touch. That's a scary and painful feeling. Bright Eyes picked up so much more from you than either of you ever knew. I see it every time I talk to him, see it in his gestures, in his humor, in his every motion. Sometimes, I swear, it's like I'm looking as much at your offspring as your friend. He's not built that differently than you, and he sure has that undying patience with me that you did. I just can't figure out how I sit here, feeling guilty and hurt that I love you both so much, and that you're the man I lost. There's a million things I would have done different, but I can't. I hate myself for wanting you to hold me as much as I want Bright Eyes to. I wish I had another chance, I can't believe I would have let this world be robbed of you had I known it would end this way. I would struggle through anything, give up all I've found in Bright Eyes, just to know that I wouldn't have to question if you understood how I felt about you. I pray so often that you understand what I feel, what I felt, and why I made the choices I did. Some part of me feels you didn't struggle harder to stay with this world because you knew I'd be taken care of by Bright Eyes. It's so hard to hear him crack a joke that echoes your sense of humor, or hear him say something affectionate that's only narrowly apart from the words you once spoke to me. I have loved you since the day I met you, so to give myself to someone so much like you in a way I was never able to give myself to you, well, that's tearing me apart from the inside out. The amount of guilt and fear and loss that surrounds my heart eats me alive some days, Danger. You were the unattainable, the man I thought I could never have, and then, when I did get you, the tables were reversed. I couldn't handle what I thought I wanted so much. I have always loved you, without a doubt, but the ability to give love to someone and having love for them just isn't always the same. Babe, I want one more day with you in a way I can't rationalize or explain. It's been three years this October since I last saw you, and all I want is to hear that stupid bear-like snore, or feel you hug me tight, or call me Cesil, or laugh at me and explain something that's so obvious to you but so far from my scope of knowledge, or yell at me for fidgeting when you were about to pierce or tattoo me, or for not eating before you tattooed me, or ANYTHING, Danger, just to be with you one more time... Danger, I love you, and I never meant to hurt you, I'm sorry in a way I didn't know I could be. Please, please, if there's one thing you hear from this world tonight, selfish though this all may be, it's these words: Baby, I love you and I'm so sorry.
Forever Your Cesil
I miss your big bear hugs and knowing that my friend would be there, no matter what, no matter how long it had been since we'd seen one another. There are so many things I want to say to you, and so many more I wish I'd gotten to ask you, but mostly, I think you know. You taught me to look at life in an entirely different way, and there will never be enough ways to say thank you for the good you did me. I know you're at peace in a way I struggle to comprehend. I've always believed that those that find peace in life are those who struggle the least after death. You were always very calm and clear about what you believed, it never worried you much. You were always happy, always smiling. You always wanted me to smile. I wasn't ready for that. I feel guilt every single day for not marrying you, for letting you go, for not begging you to take me back- you would have. You loved me in a way I'll never be able to understand. You were able to love me in a way I've never been able to love anyone, despite my efforts. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. I know some members of your family undoubtedly have some negative feelings towards me, and I can't shake that horrible sense of longing for that feeling like I belonged among your family that I had when we were together. Babe, you have a place in my heart that nobody else can ever touch. That's a scary and painful feeling. Bright Eyes picked up so much more from you than either of you ever knew. I see it every time I talk to him, see it in his gestures, in his humor, in his every motion. Sometimes, I swear, it's like I'm looking as much at your offspring as your friend. He's not built that differently than you, and he sure has that undying patience with me that you did. I just can't figure out how I sit here, feeling guilty and hurt that I love you both so much, and that you're the man I lost. There's a million things I would have done different, but I can't. I hate myself for wanting you to hold me as much as I want Bright Eyes to. I wish I had another chance, I can't believe I would have let this world be robbed of you had I known it would end this way. I would struggle through anything, give up all I've found in Bright Eyes, just to know that I wouldn't have to question if you understood how I felt about you. I pray so often that you understand what I feel, what I felt, and why I made the choices I did. Some part of me feels you didn't struggle harder to stay with this world because you knew I'd be taken care of by Bright Eyes. It's so hard to hear him crack a joke that echoes your sense of humor, or hear him say something affectionate that's only narrowly apart from the words you once spoke to me. I have loved you since the day I met you, so to give myself to someone so much like you in a way I was never able to give myself to you, well, that's tearing me apart from the inside out. The amount of guilt and fear and loss that surrounds my heart eats me alive some days, Danger. You were the unattainable, the man I thought I could never have, and then, when I did get you, the tables were reversed. I couldn't handle what I thought I wanted so much. I have always loved you, without a doubt, but the ability to give love to someone and having love for them just isn't always the same. Babe, I want one more day with you in a way I can't rationalize or explain. It's been three years this October since I last saw you, and all I want is to hear that stupid bear-like snore, or feel you hug me tight, or call me Cesil, or laugh at me and explain something that's so obvious to you but so far from my scope of knowledge, or yell at me for fidgeting when you were about to pierce or tattoo me, or for not eating before you tattooed me, or ANYTHING, Danger, just to be with you one more time... Danger, I love you, and I never meant to hurt you, I'm sorry in a way I didn't know I could be. Please, please, if there's one thing you hear from this world tonight, selfish though this all may be, it's these words: Baby, I love you and I'm so sorry.
Forever Your Cesil
Tomorrow
I love Angel Eyes like she's my own.
I have a hard time with this, believe it or not.
I feel as though loving this beautiful little girl is somehow overstepping the boundaries I'm allowed, being her father's partner.
Her mother and I, well, we have very different ideas and abilities where children are concerned. Fortunately, her father's ideals and my abilities line up quite well.
None the less, I find myself feeling terribly bothered by the fact that I just absolutely am overwhelmed by love for this little girl. Bright Eyes swears she talks about me daily, by name, which is a miracle unto itself, after the trouble she had with my name. She got horribly frustrated with me when she forgot my name, because I knew she just had to remember it on her own- and she did. Angel Eyes looks nothing like me, and I can't imagine anyone would ever mistake her for mine, but my heart already has, it seems. I love Bright Eyes, and am so eager for him to be down here, with me, but the thought of her not being around for a while, well, my eyes are literally tearing up just thinking about that.
I can imagine loving a child I adopted, but being a stepparent was not a situation that had brought thoughts of love to my mind in any particular way. My own stepfather was one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I've been blessed to have two extraordinary father figures in my life. My stepfather surely loved my sister and I as his own, but it was never something that occurred to me about my own life.
I know, now, though, that when Bright Eyes calls me to tell me that Angel Eyes tied her own shoes by herself after I had shown her (ONCE!) how to tie that way, that I beam with pride. When she uses the word 'handsome' for the first time, and I'm the only grown-up she's ever been around that uses that word- and she uses it perfectly in the sentence- I will well up with tears. When she sinks her first basket after I showed her how to hold a basketball and see the joy on her face, I will know that it's almost as much as I feel for her.
I can't honestly explain how it's possible to love a child this much, particularly after spending only a week with her and her father, but I assure you, friends, it is.
All I want, in the most selfish way, is to have Angel Eyes and Bright Eyes and Tumbleweed all under my own roof, all the time, so I wake up knowing that my family is there, and I go to sleep knowing that they are there, and to watch Angel Eyes grow up and learn so many more things that she and I both feel that joy and pride in. I want to teach her to play basketball, something I'm sure she'll be quite good at and that I wish I'd done more of, and to teach her to braid her own hair, which it took me til I was in my twenties to be able to do, and to teach her that being a girl is not a weakness, but that the strength of such a thing looks far different than the strength that comes with being a boy. I can't believe how hopeful and happy and elated I am at the thought of this family that we are building, in the most unusual way, day by day, from 2,000 miles away from one another.
Now, excuse me while I go wipe away the tears.
Forever On My (Other) Doorstep
The last few weeks were more or less my personal idea of hell on earth. Too blunt? Perhaps, but I don't know how else to explain it. Dad (Tumbleweed) now has issues with his kidneys on top of all the other symptoms (some of which, it seems, I'm still learning about). All the symptoms point to an autoimmune disorder. Why don't they treat for that, you ask? Good question. The answer is because there are just so frikkin many of them, they don't know where to begin treatment until they can narrow it down. So, much like with the common cold, we are treating symptoms- except on a much larger scale. Lymph nodes swollen near his pancreas, vertebrae sticking out at awkward, painful angles, kidneys putting out far too much of a hormone/chemical of some sort, blood sugar going wacky from a medication, extreme fatigue, digestion problems, a severe form of watermelon stomach, so we cauterize, medicate, etc, etc, etc...
Meanwhile, back at post, I've been moved between 3 units, finally getting to The Big House, where I was supposed to be the whole time, trying to in-process and in-process again, until finally someone got me where I was supposed to be from the jump. My unit is great, though I'm a tad bit out in the wind right now with everything.
A friend of mine, who I'll call Kid (short for Billy The Kid, which is a nickname that I'm happy to realize really does suit him) has extended the offer to my father and I to stay in his two extra bedrooms until the Army gets off it's hiney and helps us get on our feet. I am at Kid's house now. Kid is 38, and has never been married or had children, though he owns his own (very nice) home. Pool in the back yard, and, all around, I really love this house. It's very masculine, as one might assume, but it's a temporary place, and I'm so grateful to not have to worry about emergency loans or Tumbleweed being homeless, that I couldn't care less where I was staying, though I am thoroughly pleased to have a place such as this to be.
Bright Eyes and I have been through quite a bit. My stress level and the bazillion and three changes in my life have left the plans he and I had made completely unhinged. We don't know when we'll see one another again, and it looks as though we may have to wait until the end of the school year (Miss Angel Eyes turns the big 5 on Monday, and begins school shortly there after) before he can move down here with me. I love him and I miss him dearly, and am so incredibly eager to see him again... I digress. He has put up with my storm and trying to give up and I'm honestly not sure how in the world he survives me. Dealing with my temper is a hard thing to do, but dealing with me hanging up, yelling, and threatening long-distance, when, truly, the majority of it was my own frustration, rather than anything he had done or said, well, that takes.... I don't know. Insanity? He loves me. Whether or not I like the way he handles me sometimes (like not calling back after I hang up on him- what's that about?!) he's survived me, and he still loves me, and he works so hard to make that very clear. I can't help but feel like I don't deserve someone so patient, but I know in my heart that I'm not going anywhere. After about a month of being on opposite sides of the country, I still know, without a doubt, that this is the man that I will spend the rest of my life with. Lord knows I tried to walk away, but how do you walk away from someone who just stands there, quietly, never budging, with that look in their eyes that says 'Go pitch your fit, I'll still be right here when you're done.' It's absolutely maddening for someone like me!!! I can push and push and push and he just stands there like a mountain, looking down at a bulldozer, as if to say 'Well, now, is that all you've got? You'll have to do better than that.' There's a line in an Eminem song, off of his new album, that says 'I guess that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano'. THAT is what I'm used to. I'm used to a double-explosion, a wild clash of the elements. If this is a clash of the elements, it's fire against rock- I don't stand a chance.
Whether or not this is the passionate, intense, insane whirlwind romance I dreamed about (it's not), it is exactly what I need.
There! *looks up at the sky, shaking her fist* I said it! Are you happy now? I know you know what I need better than I do? Can you stop pointing this out to me now?! PLEASE?!
Everything will be okay, but it's all going to take some time.
The paperwork for Dad can take up to three months to process. I'll be sending it all off on Monday, once I have certified copies made of all the paperwork they want.
It's nice to be closer to the Baha'i center. I went to Feast for the first time Thursday evening. I met most of the folks in our community that I hadn't met yet, and I was really happy to meet them. They are truly wonderful people. Ruhi books seem to be going to the wayside for me, lately, as I'm only on Book 1, and have been so overwhelmed with everything, I just haven't been making it regularly. I am going to make an honest effort to get more involved with the center, but I've been so worn out lately, that I also need to make sure I'm taken care of. I've barely been sleeping, and skipping meals regularly to ensure I get everything done. Everything, of course, being limited to things that the Army wants/needs or that I need to do for Tumbleweed, or helping out some of the younger Soldiers who haven't been through these things yet. I used to get pedicures weekly in Korea- I haven't gotten one in the month and a half since I left there. (Has it really only been a month and a half?!)
Anywho, there's the rundown. More to follow. I love you, Bright Eyes!
Meanwhile, back at post, I've been moved between 3 units, finally getting to The Big House, where I was supposed to be the whole time, trying to in-process and in-process again, until finally someone got me where I was supposed to be from the jump. My unit is great, though I'm a tad bit out in the wind right now with everything.
A friend of mine, who I'll call Kid (short for Billy The Kid, which is a nickname that I'm happy to realize really does suit him) has extended the offer to my father and I to stay in his two extra bedrooms until the Army gets off it's hiney and helps us get on our feet. I am at Kid's house now. Kid is 38, and has never been married or had children, though he owns his own (very nice) home. Pool in the back yard, and, all around, I really love this house. It's very masculine, as one might assume, but it's a temporary place, and I'm so grateful to not have to worry about emergency loans or Tumbleweed being homeless, that I couldn't care less where I was staying, though I am thoroughly pleased to have a place such as this to be.
Bright Eyes and I have been through quite a bit. My stress level and the bazillion and three changes in my life have left the plans he and I had made completely unhinged. We don't know when we'll see one another again, and it looks as though we may have to wait until the end of the school year (Miss Angel Eyes turns the big 5 on Monday, and begins school shortly there after) before he can move down here with me. I love him and I miss him dearly, and am so incredibly eager to see him again... I digress. He has put up with my storm and trying to give up and I'm honestly not sure how in the world he survives me. Dealing with my temper is a hard thing to do, but dealing with me hanging up, yelling, and threatening long-distance, when, truly, the majority of it was my own frustration, rather than anything he had done or said, well, that takes.... I don't know. Insanity? He loves me. Whether or not I like the way he handles me sometimes (like not calling back after I hang up on him- what's that about?!) he's survived me, and he still loves me, and he works so hard to make that very clear. I can't help but feel like I don't deserve someone so patient, but I know in my heart that I'm not going anywhere. After about a month of being on opposite sides of the country, I still know, without a doubt, that this is the man that I will spend the rest of my life with. Lord knows I tried to walk away, but how do you walk away from someone who just stands there, quietly, never budging, with that look in their eyes that says 'Go pitch your fit, I'll still be right here when you're done.' It's absolutely maddening for someone like me!!! I can push and push and push and he just stands there like a mountain, looking down at a bulldozer, as if to say 'Well, now, is that all you've got? You'll have to do better than that.' There's a line in an Eminem song, off of his new album, that says 'I guess that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano'. THAT is what I'm used to. I'm used to a double-explosion, a wild clash of the elements. If this is a clash of the elements, it's fire against rock- I don't stand a chance.
Whether or not this is the passionate, intense, insane whirlwind romance I dreamed about (it's not), it is exactly what I need.
There! *looks up at the sky, shaking her fist* I said it! Are you happy now? I know you know what I need better than I do? Can you stop pointing this out to me now?! PLEASE?!
Everything will be okay, but it's all going to take some time.
The paperwork for Dad can take up to three months to process. I'll be sending it all off on Monday, once I have certified copies made of all the paperwork they want.
It's nice to be closer to the Baha'i center. I went to Feast for the first time Thursday evening. I met most of the folks in our community that I hadn't met yet, and I was really happy to meet them. They are truly wonderful people. Ruhi books seem to be going to the wayside for me, lately, as I'm only on Book 1, and have been so overwhelmed with everything, I just haven't been making it regularly. I am going to make an honest effort to get more involved with the center, but I've been so worn out lately, that I also need to make sure I'm taken care of. I've barely been sleeping, and skipping meals regularly to ensure I get everything done. Everything, of course, being limited to things that the Army wants/needs or that I need to do for Tumbleweed, or helping out some of the younger Soldiers who haven't been through these things yet. I used to get pedicures weekly in Korea- I haven't gotten one in the month and a half since I left there. (Has it really only been a month and a half?!)
Anywho, there's the rundown. More to follow. I love you, Bright Eyes!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Transition
My world is totally up-ended.
I have moved across the entire world, lost one of my best friends, and a man that I have always and will always love very much, I have made my first PCS move- a strenuous process in the most stable circumstances, gotten my father's paperwork done so the Army will help me support him and so that I won't go as broke as I've been trying to support him, driving back and forth place, an hour and a half away, and my base as often as I'm able, dealing with some bizarre physical adaptation that's keeping me even clumsier than usual, and, oh yeah, dealing with a long-distance relationship and his daughter.
I'm overwhelmed, broke, tired, and more than a little aggravated. I'm trying to keep myself together, but it's become strenuous. Every positive move I've made is at a standstill, if it hasn't, in fact, gone backwards. I am glad I no longer drink, or I would undoubtedly wind up in far more trouble just now.
I am struggling to maintain control of a life I currently have almost no say in, and fighting old urges. I have the option to go Special Forces, which is something I recently learned, and want it so bad I can taste it. However, this would, undoubtedly, be damaging to my relationship and make life for Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes quite a bit more difficult for a while, and the lifestyle simply isn't as conducive to having a family as the plans we'd discussed. So, I make a sacrifice.
I hear all about how Bright Eyes wants to delay this that and the other, and make all these changes to what I thought was a pretty stable game plan, in order to make it an easier transition on his daughter, while I have nearly neglected my own charge in order to make our relationship work. It's incredibly frustrating to jump through hoops all day long to be asked to be patient and, oh yeah, jump through more hoops to make a relationship work, all the while neglecting my own responsibilities in order to make the relationship work. Bright Eyes has been planning to come down here, and, naturally, he was going to stay with Tumbleweed and I while he was here. Tumbleweed has never met Bright Eyes, but I was going to let him stay with us anyway, despite knowing this would not be the most comfortable situation for Tumbleweed, especially knowing that I'd be the only one working through this period of time. I'd be taking on additional financial repsonsibilities, plus coming home to two men who would *hopefully* get along the 12 or so hours per day I was at work. Never mind the possibility of having to go to the field with my unit or any such monkey wrench during that time.
I can't turn in the paperwork for Tumbleweed until after this week and possibly another week, despite the fact that his lease expires at the end of the month. I will be taking out a loan, at a minimum, to cover the first month's rent on the apartment, if not a hell of a lot more just to support the two of us until the Army's money comes through.
I have been going through day after day of mandatory briefs about things I already know, between 3 years in the Army, 2 years as a spouse, and 12 years of living locally. Yet, none of what I need to accomplish can be accomplished currently, despite my own preparations.
I deal with junior soldiers day in and day out, trying to keep the newest ones out of trouble, and trying to maintain my sanity at the same time.
I am ready to give up. I am fighting for strength, I am fighting for survival, but I've just about had it with doing favors and jumping through hoops for circumstances that truly seem to be a weight on me. I am frustrated, tired, bruised, swollen, lacerated, overwhelmed, broke, and totally stuck. Yet more changes, more requests, more burdens, more EVERYTHING just keeps getting piled on me.
I want to be the best. I always have and always will. It's coming to a point, though, that trying to be the best at everything has become ignorant of what is best for me.
Something's got to give, and I don't know what it will be.
I can't go back to my old ways, I'd never forgive myself, but weight of four worlds seems to be on my shoulders, and I'm just tired of it.
Bright Eyes, I love you, but it's probably going to be a couple more days before we get to really talk. I am apparently incapable of having a normal conversation about these things right now.
I have moved across the entire world, lost one of my best friends, and a man that I have always and will always love very much, I have made my first PCS move- a strenuous process in the most stable circumstances, gotten my father's paperwork done so the Army will help me support him and so that I won't go as broke as I've been trying to support him, driving back and forth place, an hour and a half away, and my base as often as I'm able, dealing with some bizarre physical adaptation that's keeping me even clumsier than usual, and, oh yeah, dealing with a long-distance relationship and his daughter.
I'm overwhelmed, broke, tired, and more than a little aggravated. I'm trying to keep myself together, but it's become strenuous. Every positive move I've made is at a standstill, if it hasn't, in fact, gone backwards. I am glad I no longer drink, or I would undoubtedly wind up in far more trouble just now.
I am struggling to maintain control of a life I currently have almost no say in, and fighting old urges. I have the option to go Special Forces, which is something I recently learned, and want it so bad I can taste it. However, this would, undoubtedly, be damaging to my relationship and make life for Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes quite a bit more difficult for a while, and the lifestyle simply isn't as conducive to having a family as the plans we'd discussed. So, I make a sacrifice.
I hear all about how Bright Eyes wants to delay this that and the other, and make all these changes to what I thought was a pretty stable game plan, in order to make it an easier transition on his daughter, while I have nearly neglected my own charge in order to make our relationship work. It's incredibly frustrating to jump through hoops all day long to be asked to be patient and, oh yeah, jump through more hoops to make a relationship work, all the while neglecting my own responsibilities in order to make the relationship work. Bright Eyes has been planning to come down here, and, naturally, he was going to stay with Tumbleweed and I while he was here. Tumbleweed has never met Bright Eyes, but I was going to let him stay with us anyway, despite knowing this would not be the most comfortable situation for Tumbleweed, especially knowing that I'd be the only one working through this period of time. I'd be taking on additional financial repsonsibilities, plus coming home to two men who would *hopefully* get along the 12 or so hours per day I was at work. Never mind the possibility of having to go to the field with my unit or any such monkey wrench during that time.
I can't turn in the paperwork for Tumbleweed until after this week and possibly another week, despite the fact that his lease expires at the end of the month. I will be taking out a loan, at a minimum, to cover the first month's rent on the apartment, if not a hell of a lot more just to support the two of us until the Army's money comes through.
I have been going through day after day of mandatory briefs about things I already know, between 3 years in the Army, 2 years as a spouse, and 12 years of living locally. Yet, none of what I need to accomplish can be accomplished currently, despite my own preparations.
I deal with junior soldiers day in and day out, trying to keep the newest ones out of trouble, and trying to maintain my sanity at the same time.
I am ready to give up. I am fighting for strength, I am fighting for survival, but I've just about had it with doing favors and jumping through hoops for circumstances that truly seem to be a weight on me. I am frustrated, tired, bruised, swollen, lacerated, overwhelmed, broke, and totally stuck. Yet more changes, more requests, more burdens, more EVERYTHING just keeps getting piled on me.
I want to be the best. I always have and always will. It's coming to a point, though, that trying to be the best at everything has become ignorant of what is best for me.
Something's got to give, and I don't know what it will be.
I can't go back to my old ways, I'd never forgive myself, but weight of four worlds seems to be on my shoulders, and I'm just tired of it.
Bright Eyes, I love you, but it's probably going to be a couple more days before we get to really talk. I am apparently incapable of having a normal conversation about these things right now.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Waiting For Life To Start
As I pack up my stuff to head to post, this new post, for the first time, I catch myself thinking that I can't wait for Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes to join me so our life can start.
It doesn't take me but a second to catch the inherent issue with this thought.
Our life is now.
This is the beginning of our life together.
He loves me, and I love him and his daughter very much. There's no waiting for it to begin.
The moment we first spoke again, as awkward and emotional and nervous as it was for both of us, that's when it began. That's when we realized how different this all was.
I have put together picture frames full of the pictures we took while I was in Underland, and have pictures of various combinations of the three of us taped into my work notebook, and several more slipped under the cover of the book, so I can pull them out and look at them any time I need a reminder of what it is I'm doing this for. I have two pictures taped underneath a spiritual quote I scrawled on the inside of my book one day.
I can stress and worry and be impatient all I want to and it will do no good- or I can choose to understand that the actions I take now will impact the life I have when Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes are here beside Tumbleweed and I, and smile, and work hard and do the best I can for these two special people who are already my family in my heart.
So, I will not wait anymore. Our life has already begun, so I must start behaving like that, starting now!
It doesn't take me but a second to catch the inherent issue with this thought.
Our life is now.
This is the beginning of our life together.
He loves me, and I love him and his daughter very much. There's no waiting for it to begin.
The moment we first spoke again, as awkward and emotional and nervous as it was for both of us, that's when it began. That's when we realized how different this all was.
I have put together picture frames full of the pictures we took while I was in Underland, and have pictures of various combinations of the three of us taped into my work notebook, and several more slipped under the cover of the book, so I can pull them out and look at them any time I need a reminder of what it is I'm doing this for. I have two pictures taped underneath a spiritual quote I scrawled on the inside of my book one day.
I can stress and worry and be impatient all I want to and it will do no good- or I can choose to understand that the actions I take now will impact the life I have when Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes are here beside Tumbleweed and I, and smile, and work hard and do the best I can for these two special people who are already my family in my heart.
So, I will not wait anymore. Our life has already begun, so I must start behaving like that, starting now!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
On My Future
I have been doing more and more research, and looking more at these home-maker videos and such.
I am trying to think about down the road- I don't plan on staying in the Army forever.
Can I see myself being the woman at home? Can I see myself always being the primary breadwinner?
Yes, and yes.
It's pretty amazing to me that I can see myself happy in either role. I know I want children, I know I want to have Bright Eyes' children, and I also know I'll be happy with him regardless of which (or how many) roles I play in our family.
While being in the Army certainly makes the beginning of these things more of a trial, I wonder if it's not for the best. I have decided to get my nursing degree before I leave the military, so I'll have a few more years, at a minimum. I can imagine, though, getting out after my current obligation (2013) and going to school at my own pace, rather than dealing with the military aspect of life. It all depends on how things unfold for us, and what we can handle at that time.
I think that these next few years of Army life will help us both get a better idea of what we want and need for the future, and maybe even help Bright Eyes get a business going, as he's so smart, and I can definitely see him being happier running a company that works towards things that are important to him than being another Army spouse, and bouncing from job to job with each PCS move.
I think these next few years are going to define a lot, but I'll be 27 when this contract ends, and I think by that time, we'll both know what we want, and both be a lot more comfortable with our family moving in that direction as a whole.
I am trying to think about down the road- I don't plan on staying in the Army forever.
Can I see myself being the woman at home? Can I see myself always being the primary breadwinner?
Yes, and yes.
It's pretty amazing to me that I can see myself happy in either role. I know I want children, I know I want to have Bright Eyes' children, and I also know I'll be happy with him regardless of which (or how many) roles I play in our family.
While being in the Army certainly makes the beginning of these things more of a trial, I wonder if it's not for the best. I have decided to get my nursing degree before I leave the military, so I'll have a few more years, at a minimum. I can imagine, though, getting out after my current obligation (2013) and going to school at my own pace, rather than dealing with the military aspect of life. It all depends on how things unfold for us, and what we can handle at that time.
I think that these next few years of Army life will help us both get a better idea of what we want and need for the future, and maybe even help Bright Eyes get a business going, as he's so smart, and I can definitely see him being happier running a company that works towards things that are important to him than being another Army spouse, and bouncing from job to job with each PCS move.
I think these next few years are going to define a lot, but I'll be 27 when this contract ends, and I think by that time, we'll both know what we want, and both be a lot more comfortable with our family moving in that direction as a whole.
Another Rant
A reminder that this is my rant, my view, and please don't take what I say as Baha'i gospel or something- this is not anyone's frustration but my own.
I've written about this particular video-blogger's posts before.
I am frustrated with her views, at a minimum.
She speaks about having sex with her husband any times he asks, referring to it as depriving him if she doesn't- and same goes if any other woman chooses not to give that to their husband on demand.
Yes, I get it, intimacy is important- but intimacy is NOT limited to sexual intercourse! She mentions an argument they had about how often they have it, and also that she decided then to never say no to him again.
WHAT?!
'Sex is not a debatable issue for wives.' Whhhhhhat?!
"We are not to deprive him of this physical need he has."
I'm so flustered and aggravated by this. I genuinely do not believe that this woman, in the least, believes that women are equal to men.
Personally, I would feel more intimately close to my other half if I knew it was okay to open up to him and tell him why I was not in the mood to have intercourse than if I just gave in to it to avoid a fight.
" Observing a young woman who rode by on horseback with her hair flying free and several who bicycled past on their bicyles unattended, he said, "This is the age of woman. She should receive the same education as her brother and enjoy the same privilege; for all souls are equal before God. Sex, in its relation to the exigencies of the physical plane, has no connection with the Spirit. In this age of spiritual awakening, the world has entered upon the path of progress into the arena of development, where the power of the spirit surpasses that of the body. Soon the spirit will have dominion over the world of humanity." 82
(Abdu'l-Baha, Abdu'l-Baha in London, p. 81)
[Emphasis mine.]
Sex, in it's relation to the exigencies of the physical plane, has no connection with the Spirit.
My gender does not make me less than my partner, nor does it mean I was created to submit to him.
I am equal to those around me, and the only thing that can elevate me is spiritual qualities, which, admittedly, I still struggle to keep when faced with a provocation such as this.
Dear God, please aid this woman in seeing her own worth and in helping her family to see that the progress made in this world isn't for nothing, nor is it against Your Word. Help her to understand that her needs are allowed and reasonable, and that her contribution to her family and community may be appreciated, as well.
I've written about this particular video-blogger's posts before.
I am frustrated with her views, at a minimum.
She speaks about having sex with her husband any times he asks, referring to it as depriving him if she doesn't- and same goes if any other woman chooses not to give that to their husband on demand.
Yes, I get it, intimacy is important- but intimacy is NOT limited to sexual intercourse! She mentions an argument they had about how often they have it, and also that she decided then to never say no to him again.
WHAT?!
'Sex is not a debatable issue for wives.' Whhhhhhat?!
"We are not to deprive him of this physical need he has."
I'm so flustered and aggravated by this. I genuinely do not believe that this woman, in the least, believes that women are equal to men.
Personally, I would feel more intimately close to my other half if I knew it was okay to open up to him and tell him why I was not in the mood to have intercourse than if I just gave in to it to avoid a fight.
" Observing a young woman who rode by on horseback with her hair flying free and several who bicycled past on their bicyles unattended, he said, "This is the age of woman. She should receive the same education as her brother and enjoy the same privilege; for all souls are equal before God. Sex, in its relation to the exigencies of the physical plane, has no connection with the Spirit. In this age of spiritual awakening, the world has entered upon the path of progress into the arena of development, where the power of the spirit surpasses that of the body. Soon the spirit will have dominion over the world of humanity." 82
(Abdu'l-Baha, Abdu'l-Baha in London, p. 81)
[Emphasis mine.]
Sex, in it's relation to the exigencies of the physical plane, has no connection with the Spirit.
My gender does not make me less than my partner, nor does it mean I was created to submit to him.
I am equal to those around me, and the only thing that can elevate me is spiritual qualities, which, admittedly, I still struggle to keep when faced with a provocation such as this.
Dear God, please aid this woman in seeing her own worth and in helping her family to see that the progress made in this world isn't for nothing, nor is it against Your Word. Help her to understand that her needs are allowed and reasonable, and that her contribution to her family and community may be appreciated, as well.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Perfect Partnership
My life is perfect.
The only things that I can improve on require some paperwork and some time.
Frankly, if the fixes are that simple, really, what do I have to complain about?
I read an article, which I cannot, for the life of me, find about a straight couple who chose to refer to one another not as the common boyfriend-girlfriend jargon, but as partner. The explanation of this left me saying 'EXACTLY! Why didn't I think of that?!' The author explained that, once out of high school, referring to someone as a boy or girl seems a tad undermining. It also, and I can't recall if this was part of the article or my own misgivings about the popular terminology, seems to undercut expectations of an adult relationship.
Bright Eyes and I have known each other since high school, but our relationship has changed to an incredible extent since then. We have been apart roughly ten years now, until this last week we were fortunate enough to spend together, and have both experienced a great deal. We've each been through a divorce, despite never personally agreeing with divorce in the first place, and have both, through various changes and troubles, found ourselves living with our single fathers. I am supporting my father through my military service and career, while Bright Eyes is leaning on his father a bit through hard times. None the less, we have both grown, and, finding ourselves 2,000 miles apart puts more weight on each of our shoulders. Calling a man raising a five year old daughter almost alone, while being a strong part of a committed, spiritual, happy, respectful and equal long-distance relationship my boyfriend would seem degrading. So, Bright Eyes is my partner. He is also the first man I have ever been involved with who understands the workings of my brain enough to understand this request.
The funny part is, he seems to be having a smoother time of the practical application. I tend to catch myself using the phrase "other half" to avoid both terms, and avoid the sideways glances that typically are indicative of someone questioning my sexual identity.
In the vegetable kingdom there is complete equality between male and female of species. Likewise in the animal plane equality exists; all are under the protection of God. (Abdu'l-Baha, Baha'i World Faith - Abdu'l-Baha Section, p. 241)
I rather like this quote. It is a very clear matter to Baha'i folks that there must be complete equality between the sexes, and we even go so far as to educate our female child if we must choose between a male and female child's education, in order to advance progress in these matters. There is male and female in all living things- and all are under God's protection. That's a pretty pointed statement, no?
Referring to the other half of my relationship as my partner, I think, helps to relieve some of those societal assumptions on who plays what role in the relationship. Bright Eyes is certainly not the aggressive, domineering head-of-house type of man that once was the norm amongst his gender, but he also does not play second fiddle to me. He's respectful and kind, and still incredibly, gracefully, wonderfully capable of calling me out on my misconceptions and fallibility without ever bumping me from my position as his equal. This is a team, we are partners.
Whoso contenteth himself with a single partner from among the maidservants of God, both he and she shall live in tranquillity. (Baha'u'llah, The Kitab-i-Aqdas, p. 41)
I have always felt as though, maybe not the female half of the relationship in general, but certainly I have tended to be the more spiritual half of many if not all of my relationships. I have never been afraid to speak about God, and this new-ish relationship is certainly not the exception. Bright Eyes has had his misgivings and been at a distance from God for quite some time now- major, painful life events tend to have that effect on most of us, to some degree- and I am happy to see that he has been so open to discussion about faith. I hadn't broached the subject specifically with him, but rather made my remarks where they were fitting and welcome, and he eventually asked me questions about the Baha'i faith, and continues to. I love that we are able to have these discussions openly and willingly, and know that this is a bright start for our relationship. While I may not be among the most pure of God's maidservants, I do try, and believe that I have a positive effect, more often than not, in speaking of our Faith.
With the exchange of vows, in which each partner repeats, " We will all, verily, abide by the Will of God," the newly wedded begin their lives together on a basis of true spiritual unity and equality (Baha'i International Community, 1993 Apr 05, Equality of Men & Women A New Reality)
I have mentioned to Bright Eyes that this is our marriage ceremony, and having parents' consent is required by our faith. I think this is amongst the most beautiful ceremonies I'm aware of, as it is simple, yet opens up all the possibilities a new couple could hope for. The celebration of a new beginning as a couple, I think, should start fairly simply, though a spiritual and pointed ceremony is called for. I read a story once about a couple getting married, and, as the preacher spoke to them and all that were present, he held up three strands- two blue and one white. He talked of braiding these strands, and demonstrated how any combination of the two would inevitably fall apart. One strand, he said, was the young bride. The other, the groom. The third strand, though, was what kept them all together- God. I'll never forget this story, and it may be a more common symbol that I am unaware of, but it is something that I have sworn would be a part of my marriage. I suppose this is what made me know, in my heart, that the man I would marry would be someone I could pray with.
I pray for Bright Eyes, because I love him.
I pray for Bright Eyes, because I know he will be happier when he starts trusting God just a little bit more.
Yet, I have no doubt in my mind, that someday, he and I will be there, together, saying our prayers, our matching coral and pearl prayer beads between our fingers, speaking to God only the way two hearts, intertwined and in love, can.
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