The Dichotomy of Change

Tomorrow a big event will happen in my life. One I have dreamed about for the longest time. A dream come true you might say.

But it has come in the wake of a change in my life I did not anticipate or want and that part beings me to my knees with grief and sadness.

I have not shared this with many people. The ones that know respond in a puzzled way which I understand. Like many other things in my life this event is not regulation.

I am also trying to process this and have had my ups and downs. So strange to realize a long held dream could also bring me grief. I don't think I could have gone forward with this if not for the sad change in my life so, in effect, this would not have been happening without the sadness that went before. It is hard to separate the two events. I know the best way to handle things is to focus on all the good aspects this event will bring. It's just that tonight the sadness overwhelms and the fear as well.

One event that illustrates the dichotomy of change.

Signs, Signs

Made a decision that I thought would be tough but it really wasn't. It was about personal freedom and the fact that, to the extent we do not harm others, we are all entitled to it.

Looking forward rather than behind makes sense to me and that is what I'm doing in a strangely cheerful way! It is really all good and will continue to be as long as I'm true to me.

Is that always an easy thing to pull off? No. But it is easier than it used to be. Whoa!! A sign of maturity? Maybe yes or maybe no as I just giggled. Someone has to.

Anniversary #2

The girl and I celebrated our second anniversary. The fact that we made it flabbergasts me. Because, boy howdy, this has been a tough year.

All kinds of rough happenings have taken place. Seriously, I have no idea how we made it this far. The anniversary trip echoed the year. About half good and half REALLY not good.

I'm in therapy ( again ). And one thing I'm working on is how to manage anger and not say things I don't mean. You may think this is kindergarten stuff and for a kindergartener it probably wouldn't be that tough. Why? Because they don't come with the baggage I do.

I'm not proud I have to work on this but at the same time I'm not the most horrible person in the world either. This plus my tendency towards pessimism and inability to tolerate criticism ( real or imagined) don't make me an easy person though, that is for sure. But, then, neither is she. She worked at a newspaper for over 30 years. That environment doesn't foster much sensitivity though she does try.

If I feel attacked I attack back or withdraw. As she has pointed out many times neither of these things helps. Criticism feels like a personal attack to me even something minor. Should I be a better person and handle these things better? Yes, of course. But in the moment I feel so hurt I start in with no brakes. Saying things I mostly don't mean after even a short time has passed. Then the sinking of the heart feeling comes along with the stubbornness of holding ground I don't even want to hold! I'm about as much fun as a barrel of monkeys.

Communication can only help if both parties trust what the other is saying and if there is true communication. I think we have issues with both of these things. Her teasing feels like criticism. To her it is not. But that is what it feels like to me. She teases like guys tease. Put downs and making fun. That is not teasing to me. It is put downs and making fun neither of which fosters good relationships.

Differences in our backgrounds continues to be problematic. She expects things from me that I haven't had to do before because in a relationship with a man he usually does those things. Also she has been single most of her life. She hasn't had anyone else to do for her so she just handles things. I'm not saying this is bad just that we have very different backgrounds.

My best friend laughed at me when I told her I wasn't good with change. Apparently she figured going from being with a man to a woman demonstrated differently. But she is wrong. Both in bedroom and out has been so hard. Hard enough that I don't know why I'm still trying except I love her.

Myku 01/18/13

Tantalize and tease. //
Get so close. Just out of reach. //
Feel for whispy dream. // p

Accepting what is //
But cursing the ill fortune //
And crying the while //

Locked in. Checked up on. //
Watched round the clock. Controls firm. //
Free thoughts still torment. //

Who's to blame and why? //
It's everywhere I am told. //
How do you fight whos? // p

Have the written word //
Trying to empty the trash //
Seeking soul's escape // p

So goodbye to you. //
And then what is true? And real? //
What is left? After? //

Don't assume, she said. //
That it is over. It is. //
What I once counted on. //

Fighting the Battle

I was once accused, angrily, of not having to worry ( about making my living ).

This is true. I have not had to worry about making my living. This angry accusation has stuck with me and weighed heavily on my heart. It pushed so many of my buttons and still does.

I worked until my second son was about a year old. Then the decision was made that I'd stay home with the boys both of whom saw the doctor frequently. It wasn't an easy decision and I did not have the full support of my husband who was ( rightfully ) worried about finances. Finances were very, very hard and for a time we let my Dad help us though that was extremely difficult because he wasn't gracious about it.

It was an adjustment to stay home but once I did I enjoyed it. I did most of the typical things a Mom of two young boys did. When they were both in school I helped some there. I cooked a lot and kept house, grocery shopped and took kids to the doctor as needed. And it ended up being needed a lot.

While I felt busy, I was not contributing to our living. The years have passed and I still do not though I am making attempts to earn through my art.

So what does this mean?- I didn't have to worry. While it is true I did not contribute
monetarily ( other than helping quite a bit when I inherited some money ) it is not true I didn't worry.

I handled the bills. I humbled myself to remind my Dad to help until we no longer needed it. I stayed awake at night and wondered how we could make ends meet. I bought the 10lb packages of chicken quarters for $3.90 and devised ways to use them over and over.

Yet despite these contributions, the accusation of not having to worry hit hard. Made me feel guilty for my life and anything we had. Made me feel incredibly lazy and worthless.

It is true that having a choice, I'd like to earn money by creating art. Holding a full time job ( that i could get currently ) doesn't appeal. I guess this can be interpreted in whatever manner you might choose. Lazy. Shiftless (literally!). Parasitic. A burden, etc. I certainly have felt like these things at times.

But while it is true I have not had to worry about providing a living, it is not true I did not worry. My Mother used to say that if you threw your problems out in the back yard with everyone else's you'd see what theirs were and run out real quick to snatch yours back again. Another saying I'm thinking of is-be kind for everyone is fighting a battle.

I have fought and continue to fight my battle. If all you see is 'things' and the only thinking you do is to make assumptions and you are so busy hefting the chip that lies on your shoulder- than I can see how you'd think I've never had to worry. But you'd be wrong about that. Very, very wrong.