Who am I?

How existential of me to ask that.  And really, if I were philosophizing on my true meaning - my true reason for existence - then I think it would take up an entire book and not a blog entry.

No, the question is much simpler than that.

One of the ways I know to make money when I depart for my "epic journey of lateness" and explore the US in a motorhome (est.2015) is to write.  Yay! Writing.

Easy enough.

But how do you make money at it?  I don't mean $25 here and there, I mean $1000/month. Or more.  Well, I understand I need to establish myself as a writer in a freelance world.  I need to have stories and an angle and a friend in the publishing business.

Crap.

I actually need to work at this.

So where to start?  What do I know?  Always write about what you know.  Easy.

But what do I know?  Really know?

And that's where the problem seems to exist for me.

Here's what I know...REALLY know:
How to persevere
How to raise a child
How to be a single mom
How to live (or not live) with someone who has a terrible addiction
How to juggle life - not always successfully
I know what it's like to be withdrawn, what it's like to hide.  I know what it's like to pretend you are someone else.
I know the experience of acting - from a chorus role to the lead in a musical - and everything behind the scenes.
How to have a successful marriage
How to have a successful and angst-free divorce
How to be honest

But beyond that - I'm not an expert in anything.  I have my passions, but I don't consider myself to be an expert in any field.  I can tell stories and have a sardonic wit.  I can see the humor in just about everything.  I am the first to laugh at myself.  And I find myself a little afraid of everything around me.

Insecurity is a bitch.  If I were to look at myself on paper, without knowing it was me, I would be mightily impress with the strength of that woman.  But knowing it's me - I just know that I did what every other person in this world does - I put one foot in front of the other and move forward.  Sometimes through mud or windstorms, or blizzards, or floods.  Sometimes through the most beautiful of sunny days.

I am no different than anyone else.

Except I have a way to find my voice and the voice of others.  I have the talent to put that voice out there and allow my experiences to be heard.

Is that voice publishable?

Is there anything I can say that hasn't already been said? That someone wants to hear?

I have no idea.

And I don't think I will really ever know the answer to that unless I start to write from the heart.  Not a blog - but something more marketable. An article. An opinion column. Something to sell to a small paper or two or twenty or more.

Maybe a weekly piece would be enough to carry me forward as a writer and as a way to finance my adventure through space.  Maybe those stories on the road will become a future book (yes! even with pictures!), or at the very least, a small voice heard by a few souls who still read.

I understand that today is the day I need to figure it all out.  I can't wait until I'm on the road to test the waters.  The time is now...

The first step is always the most frightening. From my experience, the next few steps after that aren't so easy either...

Interesting insight into a friend and weight loss...

A male friend of mine took me to dinner last night to celebrate my birthday. Anyone who has followed my blogs, etc, may recognize "said friend" as the man I was infatuated with for the past 4 years. He started dating a woman last February and I met her for the first time about 6 weeks ago. 

Obviously, the conversation drifted toward her and their relationship. (warning...I may get a tad snippy in this blog!) 

She had gastric bypass surgery about 3 years ago and has lost over 120 pounds. She has also had a tummy tuck and a boob job. Duh. At least my eyes could tell it was obvious. Now don't misunderstand me - I have six friends who have gone the gastric bypass route (not lapband) and one who had the cosmetic surgery. I understand. However, I also know that you can lose weight the old fashioned way - through hardwork, dietary changes and exercise. 

Here's the best part of doing it the old-fashioned way...you can still eat food. I don't mean pick at it, or avoid certain things - I mean you can flipping eat food. 

I proved that last night. I have lost 40 pounds this year. Last night I had no difficulty having a petite filet, broccoli, and a blue cheese/pecan salad with a sangria to wash it all down. Will I eat like that again today? No. And that's okay. But I can eat it. 

His girlfriend cannot. But she's "skinny" and has perky boobs. Yeah for her. I would love to be skinny and perky again. But I'm 52. Perky is not part of my body image anymore. 

And that's okay too. 

Last night, my friend told me how wonderful I was looking. How had I lost the weight? What was I doing differently? He complimented me on my hair and even thought it was time I bought a new wardrobe to reflect the changes I've made. Instead, I told him I was moving forward with my life and planning a way to travel the country in a RV - my 5 year plan. I was ready to live for me...FINALLY. He seemed surprised that I was willing to venture out - cut my roots and live by "chance." 

He thought I should live a more stable life. I should date and maybe even settle down. Find a nice man who appreciates the eclectic person I am. Like he does - but one that isn't involved with another woman. WHAT? 

The worst part was his confession that he would not have dated his current girlfriend 3 years ago before her weightloss, yet today he is considering it as a long-term relationship. She's the same person she was 3 years ago except with a ton of surgery. How shallow is that? 

Starts to make sense why he and I never dated. That saddens me. Not because we didn't date - but because of the idea that he didn't date me because of my weight. 

I'm sure I was a tad catty when he mentioned she "had" to have the surgery for health reasons. No she didn't. She lost a ton of weight and was saggy. That doesn't affect your physical health. It affects your vanity. It's okay to admit vanity - but call it what it is. Don't say it was for health issues. The weight loss was for health issues...not the boob job. 

The funniest part was when I found out how old she is. My friend is 47, and I'm 52. He can never remember how old I am because I don't look like I'm 52. I look younger. I act younger. Call it good genes - but the fact remains...today I don't look 50. I'm thankful for that. But when I met her last month I was sure she was older than me. I based that on her skin, wrinkles, attitude, the way she carried herself, oh, and the fact that she has a grown and married son. Nope. She's 43. SERIOUSLY??? When he told me that I physically choked on my drink. How embarrassing. I couldn't even hide my shock. 

Last night, he didn't seem to understand my surprise. He tried to write it off and say it was because she's had some difficult years (Really? Difficult? I can compare lives and I bet I can match her difficulty for difficulty and then some.) Well he emailed me today and here is his direct quote: "It *was* interesting after your comment about XXX's age, to see you and her standing next to each other. Not sure if it’s genes, or life, or that red-heads don’t age as well. But yes- just take it as a compliment that you DO look a LOT younger than XXX. Oh well." 

I've got 30 - 40 more pounds to lose. I will manage that in the coming year. When I'm done, I'll be saggy. But I will have done it on my own - no invasive surgery. I will be able to eat Creme Brulee if I want without throwing up. I can go to a party and not pick at my food. I will have learned what creates a proper diet and will be able to maintain a healthy outlook on food and how to eat. I will be able to move and workout. I will know the importance of a healthy life - and not bypass the efforts because I was in the medical field and had someone offer a quick fix. 

And when my friend is comfortably ensconced in a relationship built upon her vanity and his shallowness - I will be long gone, thankful my guardian angels were keeping my heart protected when all I wanted was to be loved. What I wanted he couldn't give me. Last night, it all came together so clearly. 

And all because I have lost weight. 

ch-ch-ch-changes

Fine.

I fess up.

Yesterday was a surprising mix of emotions...oddly enough I never really cried. True, my eyes "leaked" as I finally laid down to sleep...but it wasn't an overwhelming sadness...more like the closing of a chapter that I had closed a long time ago only to recognize it today.

I met "her." I did not like "her." I don't get why on earth she would be the "chosen one" over me. But she is and if that is truly the case, I never stood a chance in Hell with this man. I walked away realizing that I was the better woman.

For me to see that is huge.

For as insecure and afraid as I can be, I recognized yesterday that it is not who I outwardly portray. And why is that? Because I really am strong. I really am confident. I really am in control.

And I'm a hell of a lot of fun to be with.

Someone is out there that "gets" me and then I will be "her" for him.

So, yesterday, I walked away. Not from my friendship, but from my anchor.

Today, I am floating to the top...

As if to bolster that change, an opening appeared in a group's meetup that I've been interested in. The meeting is tonight and I'm actually going.

Now, for a lot of people, this isn't a big deal. But for me - the person who prefers to simply hide in my home - this is a huge step toward finding me again.

The meeting is only women (something I have avoided most of my life) and spiritual (not weighted down by Christianity - more overwhelming and all-accepting spirituality) something I've been drawn to for my entire life, but something I've always shied away from because of my Christian roots.

But the pull this time is very strong. Who am I to deny this at this stage in my life?

The changes are necessary for me to grow.

I've got the diet right (my huge splurge last night was very European! Bleu Cheese and wine!) and I'm starting to let go of dead weight (sorry John). I've spent the past 5 years trying to find my footing so I can move forward - and maybe, today, the time is now.

So - 30 pounds lighter and emotionally single, I step into the light of the universe and try to discover this mysterious world of women and earthly spiritualism. (sounds Wicca...no...that's not where this is going...at least not yet...)

I will let everyone know how tonight's Water Elemental goes (that's the lesson for this evening) and I will keep ya'll posted on my attempts at coming out of my shell and stepping into the big and beautiful world surrounding us all.

"I watch the ripples change their size, but never leave the stream of warm impermanence..." 

Melancholy - contemplation on life today...

I tend toward the extremes in life sometimes.  I'm either up or I'm down.  The inbetween is most likely a melancholy.

That's today.

I saw it coming.  In the last week I've been tired and at a low ebb. It's colored how I see things in life right now.  And while - generally speaking - I'm a happy and optimistic person, I'm starting to feel myself turn inward.

There are so many things I need to do - primarily rid my life of boxes and boxes of stuff in my garage.  The pile is so much smaller than it was years ago - but letting go is difficult at times.  It's also difficult because I tend toward strong memories - and these boxes are full of them.

I learned at a very early age that life can change in the blink of an eye.  Because of that I've gone through life "making memories" of people and times.  Where most people in this world just go through a day - I tend to focus on something to remember - something to hold onto and something that will bring the memories back.  I've done this so long that I really don't realize I'm doing it.  It's subconscious on my part.

But today I went through 3 boxes.  And while I ended up throwing or giving most of their contents away, I held onto a small shoebox of cards and letters - all from the 1980's.  I found a phone book of people that are mostly no longer in my life; wedding cards, anniversary cards, Christmas cards, birthday cards - mostly from my mom who died Oct 2, 2001.  Cards my ex-husband and I gave to one another during those 1st few years of our marriage - those incredibly happy years when nothing could drive a wedge between us.  And while I gave that marriage everything, alcoholism divided us and I called it quits after almost 25 years.  But the '80's...they were some good, good times.

With what has happened in Norway, and what continues to happen in our world today - with the bickering and BS of our own political parties and our own seemingly willingness to implode - my heart is heavy.

I'm saddened because of the pain felt worldwide.

And this has always saddened me.  The hunger, the fear, the death, the hatred - sometimes it just all seems overwhelming.

Yet, I know there are many more people who are kind and loving.  People who put others before themselves and unselfishly stand beside those less fortunate.

The world is more kind than hateful - more loving and more giving.

This is what I need to remember and focus on.

The lives of those I loved in the past are forever with me in my memories.  And while I cannot bring them back physically, I can live with the knowledge that I gave them my heart willingly and knowingly.  I allowed myself to be open to them and to remember our times together.

I pray that those people who are hurting today - both in Norway and elsewhere in this world - can find that they also made memories of each and every day they were with their loved ones.  I pray that they find the comfort of these memories in the future when the severity of their loss and their pain starts to subside.

I pray that - together - we can find comfort and peace and give enough love to one another so that others may never know the heartache of terroristic death.

Imagine all the people
living life in peace
you may say i'm a dreamer
but i'm not the only one
<em>26</em>

To stop judging & comparing and just be with what is

I can't begin to tell you how wonderful and smooth my thinking process is becoming between the 17DD, FatLoser.com and these affirmations. Yesterday was my 2nd 16 hour day this week - and I found myself - though stressed because of deadlines - in control. I WAS IN CONTROL! That's huge. I wasn't scattered, or flustered, or scared and I had foods in my bag to maintain myself through the day. I was prepared. And then I came home and did a 48 minute walk. 

Here's to today and our continued success! 

***** 
Our mind used to automatically make comments on everything that happened. It was always judging, commenting, criticizing, approving, deciding whether something was right or wrong, good or bad, too big or too small, too this or too that. I was so busy comparing what was to what I thought it should be or wanted it to be that I did not have time to enjoy the moment. 

Today I am learning to stop judging 
and comparing so that I can be with what is. 
I am learning to accept what is without the struggle 
of trying to decide whether it is right or wrong. 

***** 

Today - go out and enjoy all your moments! Accept them as they are and stop putting judgments on them. That is my plan today. Enjoy the simplicities of life - whatever they are and whatever comes my way. Today will simply be - today. 

I can think of no better way to face life. 

I have worried and stressed and fretted about things not being what I thought they should be - or even worse - not be what I thought others would want them to be. Not only did I have my own preconceived notions about events and such in my head, but I also had preconceived ideas about what was in the heads of other. Try living up to that! 

No wonder I was an emotional mess for so long. 

No wonder I'm fat. 

I couldn't live up to my expectations or to those I self-imposed and reflected back onto my self. What a confusing and constantly questioning way of life. 

Well I'm done. 

It is time to release all the continual second-guessing I've done throughout most of my life. There was a time - long ago - when a friend and I developed a "F**k 'em if they can't take a joke" kind of attitude. It wasn't as harsh or as uncaring as it sounds - it was simply allowing us to be who we truly are without trying to please the entire world. We were 19? 20? when we came up with that - and suddenly I felt on top of the world. I managed to have an awesome job with an awesome company - I enjoyed life and all my friends - I met my husband during this time - life was great. Sure there were bad things happening in my life, but they were suddenly manageable and didn't cripple me into submission. 

Somewhere along the line I lost that attitude. I "grew up" and became "responsible" whatever that means. I suddenly found myself trying to fit into molds...and I couldn't get off the merry-go-round of frustration. Suddenly I was back to second-guessing every move I made because I thought I had to so as to be seen as responsible. 

Here I am. 51 years old. And all those years of trying to live in the molds of others has left me frustrated and fat. 

Until this past May when I sucked it up and started to remember who I am. I allowed myself to release the pain - release the frustration - release the attempts at trying to make everyone happy except for myself. I released the chains of what I supposed was life and allowed myself to actually live life. 

And you know what? 

I'm happier. I'm healthier. I'm almost 20 pounds lighter. 

Oddly enough - I'm more balanced and therefore more able to maintain my life and my responsibilities. I am becoming the responsible adult without the suffocating restraints I thought that title imposed. 

I am finally growing up into myself. And it's only taken me a little more than 25 years to find myself back to the path I discovered when I first entered into adulthood. 

I am learning to accept what is without the struggle of trying to decide whether it is right or wrong. 

I am finding peace.

Trusting your instincts - the voice of reason and truth

"Seek always the answer from within. Be not influenced by those around you, by their thoughts or by their words." ~ Eileen Caddy 

When faced with a decision as to which way to go today, I will pause and take the time that I need to feel it through. I no longer have to look to other people for approval. I can seek advice and then make my own decisions. I can take quiet time and go with my intuition. I can let my body tell me what is right for me. 

*****

Today I trust my instincts. Today I trust that I will know at the right time the right answer. Today I have the faith to know that God guides me in my choices. 

***** 
The above is from "Time for Joy" a book of daily affirmations. In the past, I have usually met the suggestion of daily affirmations with a smirk. How on earth can the simple repetition of words change my life? Especially words so simple...almost insipid...I should and do already know this - so why will it help me? I felt like that character Stuart Smalley from SNL (Al Franken) - and I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. 

Yet... 

Wait... 

It works. 

It really does work. 

And everyday that I follow the daily affirmation - everyday that I repeat these simple words, this simple message over and over - I'm getting stronger. I'm happier and more relaxed. I can deal with the day to day better than before. I breathe more. I'm finding that voice inside of me again. 

For me this is huge. For me, for so long, I lost that voice inside of me...that very, very wise voice. And each day it gets a little bit louder and I trust it a little bit more. 

Though this particular affirmation means to expand into all aspects of ones' life - it can easily be focused down to eating well and eating right. Use it however you may need - find that voice inside of you and trust yourself to know what is best for you. Eat the right foods - avoid the ones that weigh you down both literally and figuratively. 

As I have always told my son before a decision or a test or anything that brings with it "second thought" - Breathe, then answer. In other words, take in a deep breathe...hold...then release your worries, your stress with that exhale. What is left, if you truly let it go, is the truth for you at that moment. Go with it and know you have made the best choice for you at that moment with all that you have and all that you know. 

My intention is to get back to that simple "knowing." No regrets - no questions - no internal struggle. Just peace of mind. 

If I can find my internal peace - trust that you can, too. It's right there. Inside of you, where it has always been. It's just very quiet and very polite and just waiting for you to stop long enough to find your center. 

Just breathe and listen. 

The day after...

If anyone is following my blog - you'll know that I was finally going to meet with a counselor yesterday concerning my divorce. A quick background: I divorced my husband (it was final in 2008) after 25 years of marriage. The last 6 of them he was a raging alcoholic. While my marriage had years and years of great times, they were almost all eradicated by the last 6. If you have never lived with an alcoholic - please, count your blessings. For those of you who have - I know you understand a lot of what I went through in those years.

I thought I was over everything - I thought I had found my peace and had moved on.

Well...no. I haven't. 

He still makes me angry. Not mad. Angry. I still get nightmares. I still feel that lost feeling I felt when I was searching for an escape.

He's been sober since September 2006 - the day I put him on a plane just after our 23rd anniversary for his 4th and what seems to be his final attempt at sobriety.

I was done. I told him not to come back.

Well - the counselor listened to my tale of woe and asked me why I hadn't let go yet. I told her I thought I had. Nope, she said. But she would help.

So...I feel freer already. I'm ready to be done with him. My son is 17 and has one more year of high school before he goes away to college. He's the person he is today because of who he is and how I've nurtured him. He is also a product of his environment - and he's come out on the other side better for what he's been through. The bottom line is - my son is who he is despite of his father. There is no reason for our son for me to hold onto his father. 

So why am I holding on? Because it's hard to let go after 30 years. I was 21 when I met him. 24 when we married. 48 when we divorced. I've known him over 1/2 my life. Good and bad. 

It's time to walk away.

And when I do - the counselor seems to think I'll let a lot more go...my weight, my fear of dating, my settling for life without the strength to move forward.

Today IS the first day of the rest of my life.

Learning to move forward - lose the anger, find the love

Let me start this out by saying I'm okay...frustrated, but okay. And in an odd way, I may have crossed a major issue in my weight loss journey - or actually, what causes me to have issues with weight loss. 

A little background on me: I divorced in 2008 after being married for 24 years. I met my ex in 1981, married in 1984, moved to Alaska in 1989, had our son in 1994. My father-in-law died unexpectedly in 2000 then my mother passed in 2001 - almost a year later and right after 9/11. By the start of 2002 my son and I were living with a full fledge alcoholic. The next 5 years were hell. On my 23rd anniversary, I put my ex on a plane to Washington for his 4th attempt at recovery. I told him not to come back. By June 2007, my son and I packed our car and drove to Texas to start over. The plus side of all this - my ex has been sober since September 2006.

As any other single parent can tell you, the past few years have been difficult - but I wouldn't change the choice of divorce for anything. It was a difficult decision - but the right one. My son and I are fine. 

My ex followed us to Texas, but was respectful enough to live 1.5 hours away. He is not in my face. There have been events good and bad - but all in all, we are friends. I loved him for over 25 years - I'm too damned old to be angry. 

And that may be the problem. There are times I still am. There are things that he says or does that bring it all back up - the anger, the nightmares, the frustration - it all comes back. 

I try. I do. I don't want to have these emotions come back. I want to move forward. I want to find someone else to love and be loved by. I know the only way to move forward is to forgive. I thought I had. I seriously worked hard to let it all go. It's not like it's the first "trauma" that I've experienced. I'm strong - I know I am. So for me to still get as angry as I do about his actions (or lack thereof) is almost baffling. 

So...after months of my son asking me to get counseling - I'm doing it. I meet with a counselor tomorrow afternoon. I'm tired of not sleeping. I'm tired. 

And what does this have to do with my weight loss journey? 

I'm an emotional eater. I have spent the past 17 years punishing myself with my weight. It's like I have an inner voice that says I don't deserve to be a healthy weight. It's like when I get angry at someone I love that I punish myself by destroying my weight. Always. Everytime I've experienced the anger, the frustration, the emotional crap - I eat. 

Today I realized I didn't eat like that. And I didn't do it yesterday. Or last week. Or the week before that. (believe me - there has been cause) 

This is huge. 

I'm not sure I'm "cured" but I have a control that I've never had before. I'm not sure exactly why. It's not that I've lost weight, because that has never worked before. It's not because I'm communicating with my SP friends - or my son - because I also tend to hide or hermitize myself as I like to call it. So, no...that's not it. 

I really don't know why. 

But I'm glad. 

Maybe...I'm really moving forward this time.

you and me against the world...

I don't know when it became the two of us. Though...if I think about it, it's been since the very beginning of time.

I remember finding out I was pregnant with Sean.  It was a lifetime ago...and I was so scared.

We'd been trying forever to have a baby.  When I first discovered I was pregnant...the first time...I was over the moon with joy.  My world was complete. I did what every expectant parent is not supposed to do - I told EVERYONE.  We were going to have a baby. We were going to be a family.

Wrong.  I lost the baby Christmas day, 1992.  I had been pregnant less than 8 weeks.  But I already had a baby ornament for the tree.  I still have that ornament...and once a year, I look at it and think about the baby I lost - my first baby - and I mourn what never will be.

So...when Sean came along the following May, I was scared.  More scared than I thought was humanly possible.  I didn't believe the pregnancy tests.  I made the doctor do a blood test - then prove to me why it was correct.  My first ultrasound?  The same thing.  I made her explain everything she saw in the ultrasound that proved I was indeed pregnant and the little peanut shape she was showing me was...indeed...my baby.

Sean was peanut before he was Sean.

As I got comfortable in my pregnancy, the fear started to subside.  After three months, we finally told everyone... cautiously.  I still wasn't sure.  But as time moved forward, I got less scared.

Until November.  Pre-Eclampsia. And I was down on bedrest from my birthday until Sean was delivered January 29, 1994.  Between were almost daily visits by nurses, technicians, and the weekly hospital visit.  They had me terrified that if I moved wrong, I would lose my baby.  Even the delivery severely threatened both our lives.

But we survived.  And I became more protective in life than I ever was during the womb days.

Was this the beginning of Sean and I?  Well, probably.  But I tried to be three.  I really did.  And for a while it worked.

I can't blame Mike.  He tried as best as any new dad could.  But Sean was as close to me as I was to him.  He was always in my arms, or around my legs, or nestled up beside me.  We were almost as inseparable as we were when I was pregnant.  Even trips taken outside to visit family - it was just Sean and I traveling. I don't remember Mike ever joining us on a vacation.

So when it came out that Mike was an alcoholic and we started to fight that horrible demon, Mike retreated into a shell of tequila and gin bottles, while Sean and I gathered together as one.

It was natural.

And it's how we got to where we are today.

Just the two of us.  Who have been through everything together: illnesses, broken bones, emergency room visits, learning to read, learning to ride a bike, death of grandparents, the hell of alcoholism, divorce, and growing into a man.

No matter who has been around - no matter what our family situations - no matter what state we've lived in - it's always been the two of us, hand in hand.

Unconditional love at it's finest.

And the truth is...I need to learn to let go.

My peanut is not mine to hold onto forever.  He is mine to love...but he belongs to himself.  He is the best of unconditional love, but as is true with the finest of loves...they are not meant to last forever.

In a very short year and a half - he will move onto the next chapter in his life...and I will need to move on too.

I love you Peanut.

You and me against the world

It feels like you and me against the world

And for all the times we've cried

I've always felt that God was on our side

And when one of us is gone

And one is left alone to carry on

Then remembering will have to do

Memories alone will get us through

Think about the days of me and you

You and me against the world

What do you want from life?

So far, I've given up on the autographed picture of Randy Mantooth, the herd of Winnebago's and the baby's arm holding an apple - but what I haven't given up on is that idea of having it all in whatever reasonable fashion I can manage having it.

You never really do know what is out there until you step into the pile of shit while rounding that blind corner.  Sometimes, while you're leaning against the wall scrapping off your shoe, the most surprising things tap you on the shoulder.

Mine was simply a phone call asking me what I wanted for dinner.  When I said surprise me, he said okay and intends to do just that.  I don't get the company, but I do get the food.  More importantly - I was thought about. And for a moment - someone unexpectedly cared about me and felt compelled to surprise me with a little gesture.

These are truly the gestures that get me through my days - they are also the gestures that remind me that I still have desires and dreams. I'm not ready to give up and become the cat lady.

The Tubes reminded me that no one really knows what they want - and when they have it, they're not really sure they want to keep it.  We are always searching - always wondering - and always, always wanting more.

"What do you want from life

Someone to love 

and somebody that you can trust

What do you want from life

To try and be happy 

while you do the nasty things you must"

Is this truly it?

Is this what we're all striving to reach - to find - to cling to in our dreams, in our beds, on our daily commutes to our sheep like existence? 

I think it's pretty damned close.

My 2 minute surprise phone call showed me it's not that far from the truth.  

I want to be loved, I want to love back, I want to be happy and I want someone to stand by me as I creep through the muck, claw my way through the jungles, and deadman float through the garbage-strewn moat surrounding my King's castle.  

And while I never expect him to tell me he loves me - I know that he does...in the way most of us love another after climbing out of the hole of love affairs gone bad. We're scared, we're weary, we're covered in crud...but we still want someone to love and trust. We want to try and be happy.  

And we desperately want someone - just as battle savvy - to stand beside us in love and in life.

In a weird way I have that as a woman too afraid to cross a line to reach a man who is too afraid to need another person. So together we'll be there for one another - never sharing the identical secret we continue to keep from the other.  

In the meantime - I'll enjoy dinner and know that someone who truly does love me is watching out for me from afar...the only way he knows how.

You've come a long way baby...

I'm tired.

Anyone who knows me has got to believe that's my mantra.

I work more than I should and I never accomplish enough.  Sometimes I feel so exhausted that I just sit and stare at shit piling up on counters and tables and wonder where the hell my maid is.

Then I remember I am the maid.

And the mom.

And the business associate.

And the chauffeur, the tutor, the dad, the chef - the everything.

Why is that?  Because I deemed my life better as a divorced, single mom.

During times like this, it takes a lot to remember just how bad it truly was.  I spent years sad and lonely and scared...always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I never knew what I was coming home to or what my son was being subjected to. I was miserable. My son was scared. I hated coming home. I hated that I hated it. I got to the point where I just wanted my husband out of my life. I hated his alcoholism and I hated him.

I don't hate.

It's not who I am.  I'm an annoying peacenik - someone who truly believes that love can conquer all.  But I was done trying to rescue a man who didn't want to be saved.  I wanted freedom.

And damn if I didn't get it.

I'm free now. Free to live with skyrocketing debt. Free to work 60 hour weeks. Free to have 1100 sq ft of clutter. Free to want to pass out while defrosting a frozen meal. Free to do whatever I damn well please...if only I was awake to do it.

Is it better?

Yes. It is.  But sometimes I'm too tired to see it.

I want so badly to have someone to share parenting with, to share finances with, to share my bed with.  I want someone there to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I don't care if it really is - I just want someone to lovingly lie to me that my debt, my exhaustion and my messy house are okay.

I want a partner in life.

I want to be loved.

I walked away from that so I could have a better life.  Am I being selfish to want both?  Am I too old to want both?

God, I'm tired.

brick by brick - the facade begins

Sometimes the reason people feel so alone is because the person they want to hold them up doesn't.

It doesn't matter how many friends they may have, or how many of the people around them say, "if you need anything - just let me know."

People like me don't just reach out.  We don't just "let you know."  Not because we don't want to - but because it's been driven into our tiny little brains that to do so could be an inconvenience to those we reach out to.

Or...when we've reached out, we've received obvious advice that we really didn't need.

Telling us the mistakes we've made to get to where we are is unnecessary.  Usually, we know where we've fucked up.  It's pretty obvious to us.  We tend to feel extremely stupid for allowing ourselves to make the very mistake you feel a need to point out to us.

So - we don't reach out.  Because we don't want to be beaten over the head by our own stupidity.

Some people think we need to hear it to move forward.

We don't.

I don't at least.

What I need is quiet support.

Someone to tell me it will all be okay.  Someone to hold me and to prop me up.  Someone to stand behind me as I face the coming day.

I need someone who will protect me.  Someone who will not be condescending to me when I ask for advice.  I'm perfectly able to tick off every mistake I've ever made - every misstep that has led me down all the wrong paths. What I need is help climbing out of the hole.

I need love.

And I'm no different from everyone else out there that feels lost on a daily basis.

The hardest thing I'm finding is to grow older and having that support system change around you. I'm not alone in that I gather very few trusted people around me.  I'm not alone in feeling that I would impede on another's life by asking them to join my little circle.

People like me - need people like you to step up and come to me. I need you to make the effort to show me you truly care.  I need you to fight for me and not simply think I'm strong enough to do it for myself.

To simply offer up a comment of "just let me know" implies you're too busy to take the time necessary to reach through my walls and touch my heart.  I'm not going to "let you know" because it will take too long for me to explain why I need you.

Whereas you believe I have that time - have that strength - the simple truth is that I don't.

I'm afraid.

And fear is a grand motivator for living inside of walls.

She's taking chances...

She gets rock n roll a rock n roll station
And a rock n roll dream
She's making movies on location
She don't know what it means
But the music make her wanna be the story
And the story was whatever was the song what it was
Roller girl don't worry
D.J. play the movies all night long

I remember hearing this song back in the dark ages of the late 70's.  A friend said the song was "my" song.  It was me that Dire Straits was singing about.  I was a flattered 19 year old, stepping out onto the brink of adulthood - no holds barred, nothing to keep in check, the world at my feet.

My life WAS the songs I heard on the radio.  I lived for music - the poetry of my soul.  My hopes, my dreams, my loves, my failures.  They were all there on the radio. 

But the roller girl she's taking chances
They just love to see her take them all

Chances.  

I remember those.  

I took them head on with a smile on my face.  

Looking back, I see a girl who was never afraid.  But I know better. I was always afraid. 

 Except now, it's more noticeable.  I'm more cautious.  I don't pick up and dust off nearly as well as I once did.  Probably because I've learned - you can't always live in that dream world.  Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight reality - Reality creeps in and rules the day.

When I was much younger - before my skateaway days - I never really dreamed.  Reality was horribly there - every day - telling me what I could or could not do.  It was painful and blantant.  And it never left my side. 

Nope.  Love was never coming.  No white knight.  No castles.  No beautiful wedding gowns flowing over the fields as my prince swept me into his arms.  

Never as a young girl did I dream of that.  I was different.  I knew it.  No matter what - it was never going to happen for me.  I was told that - I was shown that.  I believed that.

Then the wheels hit my feet.

Hallelujah here she comes queens rollerball
Enchante what can I say dont care at all
You know she used to have to wait around
She used to be the lonely one
But now that she can skate around town
Shes the only one

I could fly.  I could reach out and pass by all the hurt and the pain of childhood.  I was invincible and alive.  Nothing was going to bring me down as I sailed away on avenues never available to me before.  And that is how I met him.

I was on top of my game.  I wasn't needy.  I wasn't vulnerable.  I was everything I could ever want to be.  I was me.  He was the truck grazing my hip and the seduction of the city.  He was my taxi driver - and I was his matador.  And I fell in love.

No fears alone at night she's sailing through the crowd
In her ears the phones are tight and the musics playing loud

Somewhere along the way - the phones were removed from my ears.  The music faltered and quieted.  But it was okay.   I had the dreams I had never allowed myself.  I had the music we created together.  I had him and I had love. 

Yet somewhere, somehow, over the years - the music ceased to exist.  I don't remember even losing it.  But I do remember waking up one day and realizing it was gone.  It was all gone.  The music, the dreams, the love, the feel of the wind on my face as I sailed into the crowd.  I wasn't sailing.  The crowd wasn't parting.  My feet were like lead weights.  The whirlwind of fantasy was no longer something I could see.  Instead, there were traffic jams and horns blaring and the pain of a gray city.

I wanted out. I wanted my skateaway.  I wanted my freedom and life back.

I rediscovered the song just a little while ago.  

I rediscovered music again.  

The dreams, the laughs, the hopes, the falls.  It's all there.  Again.  In my life. And I'm starting to feel whole.  It's almost as if I'm 19 all over again - and the blip in the middle was only that - a blip. 

She's back.  

That rollergirl - she's taking chances.  

And this time...I know to be careful of the trucks and the taxis and the traffic surrounding me.  I know...the wheels on my feet can slip on the pavement.  I also know...I can fly...

Come slippin and a slidin
Lifes a rollerball
Slippin and a slidin
Skateaway thats all
Shala shalay hey hey skateaway
Shes singing shala shalay hey hey
Skateaway

And then the morning comes...

New day.

Sometimes, they just pass by like a daily freight train rumbling through the backyard, and then there are other days where they whisper and flit around like a butterfly dreaming of clouds.  Morning brings with it promises of a new day, or reminders of the broken pieces from the night before.

But if you're like most people - morning is just morning.  And the day is just another day.

I am not like most people.

Sure, there are times I get caught up in the angst of daily strife and lose sight of what I'm supposed to be doing besides going through the motions. I hate those days. They depress me and capture me within a funk that can - at times - be difficult to break free.

And then there are mornings like today, and like I expect tomorrow to be.

Days that hold promise of new things - of being one step closer to love - of being that much closer to floating just above the ground.  These are the days I live for.  I wish I could plan them out - line them up and use them when the need arises.  But instead, there is a higher power that seems to drop them on me when I least expect them.

It's the same power that brings me love, tangible or not.  The same power that shows me possibilities, but not a way to attain the dream.  The same power that gave me just enough time away from one who holds my heart to see there's another who is willing and able.  The power that throws me back together with original to remind me there is always a choice - always a decision to make in life.

Right or wrong - eventually I have to make a choice.

But not today.

This is not the day to break dreams, to step among the pillars of reality and dodge sleeping freight trains.

Today is a day filled with the warmth of love and promise. Today is the day I climb a tree and laze about in the sun. Today is the day of youthful daydreams - of chasing frogs in the grass and releasing the magic of dandelions.

At least for a moment - I will be cocooned within the comfort of childhood hopes. I will smile up at the sun and thank the Spirits for the gift of today.

Maybe tomorrow I will be one step closer to a decision...