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December 22 Theme SongYou may have noticed that I have added the Windows Media Player. This is so everyone can play my new theme song.
Thanks Jim. December 20 Happy?Something is happening that makes me want to talk about it.
But then again, I don't know if I should. I don't know who would want to listen. I don't know if I should be letting it happen, even though I think I want to. I don't know if I should be happy about it, even though I mostly am.
I just know that for the first time in a long time, I feel like I matter to somebody. December 17 I Didn't RealizeI didn't realize how much what he did
Made me unable to trust anyone else
How I try to have no expectations
In order not to get hurt
That I don't expect anyone to do
What they say they'll do
Even when they've proven that they will
I just wait for everyone to mess up
Which is what I expect
Waiting for the other shoe to drop
I try so hard not to care
No promises made
Nothing to break
That isn't already broken
December 02 It's Not MineAnd the addiction theme continues. Last night, in bed (before my phone rang at 2:48am, but that's another story entirely), a thought came to me. I have the best thoughts (or at least the most profound cause sometimes the thoughts themselves suck) when I'm just about asleep, in the shower, or in the car.
My addiction began when I started my relationship with my ex-husband. I don't remember it being there before we were together. It was the difference between getting drunk every now and then when you go out and drinking every night. To draw an analogy, since drinking is not my particular addiction. Which I generally hate. Analogies that is. It's like trying to simplify a complex idea by relating it to an equally complex idea. Unless you're really good at making analogies. However, I digress.
Anyway, it happened slowly, but I can see the origin. I dealt with his problems by trying to numb myself.
The thought, the voice, said to me "It isn't yours." Somehow, that makes it easier. Makes me able to forgive myself. The crap I've put up with from other people is nothing compared to the crap I've put up with from myself. It's so strange. November 30 Kicking the HabitLots of addiction related thoughts today. Figure they need to come out.
I've been thinking about overcoming addiction. There are 12 step programs for every conceiveable addiction out there now. I guess they must work. I've never tried it. I have a hard time with the whole "God" thing and need to find a way to modify the wording to suit me if I'm going to go down that road.
This is probably going to sound self-serving, but I'm thinking that food addiction must be one of the hardest addictions to kick. Simply because you actually need food to live, so it's not like you can elminate it from your life. That's not to say it isn't extraordinarily challenging to kick any addiction. You need to make major changes no matter what. But cigarettes, alcohol and drugs are not necessary to sustain life. You can eliminate them.
Part of the problem with kicking food addiction is that the cure usually involves "dieting" which involves putting an incredible amount of focus on food. Count, measure and be aware of everything you eat. It seems counter-intuitive to me. Let's take a person who is already obsessed and addicted to food and make it an even bigger focus in their life. I think that's why you rarely see anyone who is successful in losing weight and keeping it off. The cure is worse than the disease. Actually, the cure doesn't really address the disease at all, just the symptoms. It relies on the myth of willpower. Yes, I believe willpower is a myth and is basically a way of blaming people for a lack of strength or moral fiber to "do the right thing." You can take your willpower and shove it. Most people who have some sort of addiction have managed to accomplish other great things in their life, so I'm pretty comfortable saying that willpower just isn't the answer.
I know a few people who have quit smoking. Mainly, they quit by just quitting. Simply stopped buying cigarettes. Freaked out and had withdrawal for a while. The ones I know that are still non-smokers tried to quit many times, and finally, something just clicked. And they were able to quit.
Of course, being the creatives of habit that we are, we tend to replace one addiction with another. A lot of smokers turn to eating. We need to find our comfort somewhere. The "experts" will give you all kinds of great advice on this one. Feel like having a smoke, drink, a bag of cookies? Go for a walk instead. Get some exercise. Sure, I'll do that. I'll just leave my 4 and 5 year old children sleeping in their beds while I take a spin around the block till the urge passes. Do these "experts" live in the real world or what? Why can't they come up with something practical? Something that is as easy as pouring a drink, or lighting a smoke, or unwrapping a chocolate bar. But no, they have to come up with something that involves getting dressed, putting on shoes and possibly getting a babysitter. Way to go experts.
I think I'll go have a snack.  What's Your Poison?I once read this book titled When Misery Is Company. It was all about the concept of being addicted to misery. How some people are just addicted to feeling like crap (knowing no other way to feel basically, and probably getting a payoff somehow from that feeling), so they, subconsciously or otherwise, become addicted to other things in order to keep themselves miserable. These addictions run the full gamut from the "traditional" things like alcohol, drugs, cigarettes and gambling to eating, shopping, internet, and staying up too late. I was married when I read the book. I remember thinking, as I was reading it, "wow, this is exactly what's wrong with A." Little did I know.
I used to look down on people with addictions. Couldn't understand how they could let themselves get there.
It turns out I have an addictive personality. I now know this about myself. I am constantly seeking ways to slow myself down to the pace of the world, or to speed the world up to match me, and addictions are often a way to do this. Because I know this, I have generally stayed away from what I saw as the traditional addictive behaviours: Smoking, drinking, drugs and gambling. I know that if I venture too far into experimentation with any of these things, chances are I will get hooked. I can understand the appeal, the way substances make you feel good, at least for a little while. The thrill and high that comes along with gambling when you're winning, and the hope that it will turn around when you're losing.
So, instead of engaging in these addictions, I slid into the other ones. Eating, staying up late. For a while, I thought that these things were more virtuous than the "bad" addictions. Binge eating, for example, doesn't hurt anyone else right? It doesn't stop me from working, or looking after my kids, or paying my bills. It's not like I'm drunk and shirking my responsibilities.
Justification is a wonderful thing. It turns out, in the end, addictions are all the same. Some addictions may not have the physical side effects that others do. But it's all about the behaviour.
I used to think that addicts had some kind of moral failing. That somehow, they were bad people. Now I know differently. That most of the time, you don't even know that a person has an addiction. A lot of the time, the addict doesn't even know it.
I remember on the first day of my engineering program, while the 4th year students were humiliating us frosh, we were all lined up in a field somewhere, kneeling on the ground. The guy in charge of the humilation said "Look at the person on either side of you. Next year, one of them won't be here." (Incidentally, my response to this was "well it won't be me". One year later, I was no longer in the engineering program). The same is true for addiction. Look at the people beside you. Chances are, one of them, if not both, are addicts. They may not even know it themselves, but it's true. They aren't bad people. They aren't weak. They simply haven't figured out how to cope with the bad stuff the world has thrown their way.
Now, when I see someone with an obvious addiction, my response is empathy. That line between me and the guy drinking himself to sleep every night isn't quite so sharp after all. MoreIs it possible
That you really were what I wanted
And I was the one who made sure that it didn't become
something more
Even while I was wishing it could be
Sometimes I still miss you
Even though you are what I never had
And in my daydreams
It becomes
something more You Can't Make MeContinuing on the maybe it's not me theme ...
I have spent a significant amount of time in relationships, or in the pursuit of relationships, trying to make the other person love me. I tend to go out of my way for people I'm in love with. Hell, I got out of my way for people I'm in like with. Actually, come to think of it, I go out of my way for people I don't even care about all that much. This is not always a good thing, I understand that.
I've always wanted someone to feel the same way about me. It's what I meant by unforgettable. I wanted someone to WANT to go out of their way for me. Or at least to genuinely not mind. I never really believed that anyone really felt that way (other than my parents). So I tried harder and harder to make myself someone that they would want to go out of their way for. When they didn't, I felt like there was something wrong with me. Why wasn't I good enough?
I think I'm done. It's not about me. It's about them and what they're capable of. I can't change that. And I'm finished making people better for someone else.
November 29 MourningSometimes, I think I'm mourning the loss of that which I never had.
But the good news is at least that means that I know what I want. November 27 Hard to AdmitI'm worried that perhaps I'm a snob.
The whole online dating thing has brought this home for me. I get emails from a fair number of guys. I meet a lot of them. I am actually interested in almost none of them.
Most of them fail to meet one of my screening criteria in one way or another. Not good looking enough. Not smart enough. No ambition. Not tall enough (although this one is fairly flexible, but still, something I think about). Doesn't have what I consider to be a "good" job. Is only interested in sex. Too much of a party animal. Too much of a geek.
Am I too fussy? Is it possible that I don't actually want to meet someone? Or do I just know what I want? I Wonder IfI wonder if good things happen gradually. I always thought that a change in life, one that you want to make, something that is supposed to be for the better, happens in a big bang sort of way. With fireworks and fanfare. Maybe I'm waiting for fireworks and fanfare when I should be listening for whispers.
For a long time, my mother had the story I've copied below on her fridge. My mother is famous for putting life lessons on her fridge. My mom also wallpapers her fridge (it looks good), but that's another story. For the last, well, I don't know how long, but a long time, she has had this little story about forgiveness which has something to do with a friend slapping another friend in the face and him writing that in the sand and then when the same friend who slapped the first guy saves his life later he carves that in stone. Anyway, before the sand and stone guys, there was The Station.
Perhaps good things come quietly.
The Station by Robert J. Hastings Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent. We're traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall. But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. There sill be bands playing, and flags waving. And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true. So many wishes will be fulfilled and so many pieces of our lives finally will be neatly fitted together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering ... waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station. However, sooner or later we must realize there is no one station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. "When we reach the station, that will be it !" we cry. Translated it means, "When I'm 18, that will be it ! When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz, that will be it ! When I put the last kid through college, that will be it ! When I have paid off the mortgage, that will be it ! When I win a promotion, that will be it ! When I reach the age of retirement, that will be it ! I shall live happily ever after !" Unfortunately, once we get it, then it disappears. The station somehow hides itself at the end of an endless track. "Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. Rather, it is regret over yesterday or fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today. So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot oftener, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough. All Rights Reserved November 24 Gone and ForgottenI have been alone for a very long time. I just didn't know it. Although I was married, I was alone.
Many times, I am lonely. Sometimes my friends ask me "Why? Are you not good enough company for yourself?" I've know most of these people since high school. Most of them have had partners since then. They have spent very little time alone. When they broke up with one person, another one came along. As far as relationships go, I see people who got what they wanted. It seems to me that it came pretty easily to them. Of course I am living proof that you have no idea what's going on in the lives of your best friends, but that's what I see.
I have never had the experience of knowing that a person I was crazy about was crazy about me too. I have never known, with absolute certainty, that someone would be willing to sacrifice for me, or put me ahead of themselves, even if just for a little while. I've never felt sure that I wouldn't be forgotten. I always feel that if I don't remind people that I'm there, they will forget about me. A little bit invisible.
So few people see me the way I see myself. The way I think I really am. The way I want to be seen.
I'd like to be remembered. Parting GiftsWhenever contestants go on a game show, they get some "nice parting gifts" when they inevitably don't win. They walk away with a year's supply of Rice-a-Roni or some such.
When you lose at love, you pretty much don't get squat. For something you put so much effort into, you'd think there would be some kind of payback. Years and years of love are rewarded with ... well, nothing, as it turns out. I will never be paid back. There is no return on that particular investment. Thanks for playing; unfortunately, we have no parting gifts for you.
I'm pissed.
November 23 No FocusI can't focus. I can't do anything. My brain won't stop spinning useless stuff long enough for me to stop and decide to do something. Anything. I can't clean the house, I can't work (even though I have tons to do), I can't play the guitar, I can't read a book. I can't really even blog. There isn't even anybody on MSN to talk to.
My head is just buzzing. I think I'm waiting for something I can't identify. The Quiet DarkIn the quiet dark, the thoughts start to creep in
Slowly at first, so I don't really even notice
Then faster, swirling around my brain
Expanding, multiplyiing
Taking up all the space
Drowning out everything else
Moving faster and faster
They bring sadness and fear
Push out sleep and sanity
Leaving no room for those things
Only the thoughts, screaming to be listened to
I try to ignore them
Or stop them from coming
With exhaustion and distraction and obsession
Push them to the back of my mind
But they will not be pushed or ignored or exhausted or distracted
They simply wait
Until there is no distraction
They are stronger than exhaustion
Too numerous to be pushed away
Too loud to be ignored
They will become my obsession
In the quiet dark November 22 I'm An Adult NowI was one of those teenagers that couldn't wait to grow up. To be an adult (or a grown upper, as my kids would say). It seemed to me that adults had it made. Sure, they had responsibility, but from my perspective, they also had complete freedom and control. Nobody to answer to. A pretty decent trade-off if you ask me. The life of a teenager seemed filled with "have-tos". You have to go to school. You have to get good grades. You have to do chores. You have to be home by a certain time. Everything was decided by somebody else. That's not to say I didn't have fun, because I certainly did, but it still seemed to me that being an adult was where it was at.
Then I became an adult. I am not sure precisely when this happened. It's not like somebody flips a switch and you become an adult, or you hit a certain birthday and "poof" you are pronounced "all grown up now." My best guess is that it came with my first full time job. I had just turned 22, was fresh out of university and living on my own. I've been an adult then, by my definition, for 14 years now. Not a very long time really, given the length of a lifetime and how long I'm going to be an adult, but long enough to reassess my opinions on adulthood. And it seems to me that being a grown upper is not all it's cracked up to be.
For reasons I can't really fathom, I have found myself surprisingly unprepared to deal with life. This is really difficult for me to understand because my parents were very practical people and imparted to me all the necessary wisdom to be a responsible adult. And yet, here I am, feeling not at all like a responsible adult.
I think it comes down to this. While the life of a teenager was filled with "have-tos", the life of an adult is filled with "shoulds". Because really, you no longer have to do anything you don't want to do. You're an adult and the only person you need to answer to is yourself. But, there are certain expectations that society places on adults. These are the "shoulds". You should get a good job. You should work hard. You should own a home. You should get married and have children. You should try to make your marriage work. You should make sure your kids are raised well. You should save for retirement. You should keep your house clean. It turns out that "shoulds" are much more insidious than "have-tos". Because with the "shoulds" comes the guilt. The "have-tos" are usually accompanied by anger, or frustration, or maybe even rebellion, but the key difference is that those emotions are directed at someone else. But the "should" guilt is directed inward, and that is much more damaging.
Add to that the fact that most of us never really give up that feeling that we need to answer to somebody. Most of us are still trying to please our parents (sometimes even after they're dead). Now we also have a boss to answer to. Maybe a spouse or a significant other (or an ex-spouse or significant other), maybe kids to look after, which is a different kind of "answering to" entirely. It's as though upon becoming adults, we just expanded our circle of "those from whom we require acceptance" rather than shrunk it. And then, most difficult of all, we have to answer to ourselves and try to meet those expectations that we've placed on ourselves, whether realistic or unrealistic, whether they truly come from inside of us or were passed down from our families.
So, here I sit, 14 years into my self-defined adulthood thinking "Holy shit. This is really hard. This sucks." Sounds very teenager-y doesn't it? I find myself rebelling against all things adult. I will not keep a clean house. I will not go to bed at a reasonable hour. I will not make sure my kids eat vegetables. I will not pay my bills on time. I DON'T HAVE TO!!!! I'M AN ADULT NOW AND I DON'T HAVE TO DO IT IF I DON'T WANT TO!! Just insert the "so there!" and I'll sound like a 13 year old. I'm having the rebellion that I didn't have when I was a teenager. Only, rebellion against one's self, rather than being liberating in any way, is akin to self-flagellation. Pain and guilt at the same time. Isn't that special?
In some ways, I think that this rebellion stems from the fact that I feel like I was trying to behave like an adult most of my life. I was trying to please somebody, or compensate for somebody's shortcomings. In my marriage, I was the only adult. I say this not with any rancor towards my ex, but as a simple statement of fact. Being married to him, by and large, was like raising a child. It was necessary for one of us to take on the adult role, and I'm the kind of person that steps up, so I did it. And now he's gone and I find myself chafing under the guilt of the shoulds. I no longer want to do this, and I regret that I spent so much time on it.
There is only one real conclusion that I can draw from all of this. One time, a long time ago, I read a book, or an article or something that said that it would be wise to banish the word "should" from our vocabularies. To replace it with "it would be nice if", or "I would like to". So on that note, I give you the following.
"It would be nice if" I took some time to figure out which of the "shoulds" are really "I would like tos". November 21 A TimelineI realized my life has been characterized by some major themes. The things that largely occupied my brain. And thus, I present you with the timeline of my life:
Up to age 12: pre-occupied with thoughts of pleasing my parents and wondering why they weren't happy.
Age 12 - 20: pre-occupied with wondering what was wrong with me that I didn't have a boyfriend and what I could do to get one.
Age 20 - 35: pre-occupied with thoughts of pleasing my boyfriend/husband and wondering why he wasn't happy.
Age 35 - now: pre-occupied with wondering what is wrong with me and wondering what the hell to do next.
I can only say this. The previous phases all seem to last on the order of 12 to 15 years. By god, if this current phase lasts till I'm 50, you might as well just kill me now.
That's what I call incentive to kick my own ass into gear.
An AssignmentI was given an assignment today. I know that I am currently going through life looking for distractions. This is no doubt a limbic reaction to my life. Doing something different and constructive is seen as a threat to my continued survival. Because underneath, I no doubt have some painful stuff to process. And something inside me doesn't want that.
So, my assignment, given to me by my naturopath, is to blog about it. Try to make it something fun. As such, I have started a new category which will no doubt be filled with crazy entries written in the middle of the night. I am not yet sure what to say. So, I'll say this. Today I learned something. My whole life, I have felt as though something wasn't right inside of me. I was constantly searching for ways to make it right. But I couldn't. Not knowing what was wrong actually makes it hard to find a solution. Today I realized that my brain moves really fast -- faster than expected by the world. So my whole life, I've been subconsciously looking for ways to slow down. Or a way to keep busy enough so that the world seems as fast as my brain.
It's quite a revelation really. It helps me to understand why I tend to fall asleep in meetings, to become easily bored with things, to not have the attention span to watch a whole movie. It helps me to understand why I don't always fit in. Maybe it's the first step to recovery. |
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