Quicksand

Sometimes walking on quicksand is easier to maintain before you realize its quicksand.

It’s been a long dark tea-time of the soul, as my husband would say.  Astrologically, my natal Uranus is opposed by the transiting Uranus, which will happen 3 times because Uranus goes retrograde this year.

Another's jealousy and insecurity led to me losing a job for the first time in my life!  A job where I was beloved by the former principal, co-workers (well most of them), parents, and students.  A job where my children were just starting to call it home and now had to be ripped from it.  A job where I was making sacrifices just to be there.  A job, that was not appreciated by the new administrator.  Instigated by others, letting fear and jealousy led her, she invited a new employee to come and substitute and gave her a tour of the school.  She chose on Teacher Appreciation Day, after an assembly where teachers received an appreciation award from the parent association and a week after receiving a regional teacher award, she called me in her office with the pastor and terminated my position.  They exercised their will of an “at-will” contract, with a list that was menial and all resolved, and a few lies in there too.

So I move forward.  My heart broken, filled with anger, and mourning what I had lost.  What WE had lost.  But I move forward.   Door opened for another job, but the room was dimly lit and unfamiliar.  I walked through the threshold and turned on the lights.  I learned something new and succeeded.  As my brief time was coming to a close, another door opened in the same dimly light school.  Death came knocking and I served him dinner.  Through this woman’s death I was given another job.  A pay cut, but a job. 

Although I was embraced by the students and parents, I still walk on the outside of a disgruntled faculty.  Each day I am reminded how I am different, how I don’t fit here, how I am not as miserable as those around me.  Every morning I force myself to find the light and make it through another day.  My children cry as I leave in the morning, as they desire our old life back too.  I walk with my head down through the hallways feeling like an outsider.  Given the opportunity to do something creative, I rise to the occasion and am greeted with the grousing of the faculty.  So my shoulders slump a bit more, and my eyes twinkle a little less. 

The culture here is not my culture.  The culture is either you are in or you are out, you are with us or you are not, you should fear the leader and go to subordinates, you are to complain and complain and complain but never find a resolution.  This is not me.  I feel so lost, so smothered, like someone is trying to put out my light.  I want to run.  I want to scream.  I want to stay in bed.  But mostly, I want to be me.

This has been my quicksand.  With a daily fight to keep moving forward.  Then I had a show.

Ahh, the elation of a show is something that I always find hard to explain.  People think I’m odd if they don’t know what I’m talking about.  The sheer joy of 20-50 thousand people coming together to celebrate life, to share a commonality, to elevate their hearts and souls – there is nothing like it.  It’s been a year since I had a show, and about 2 since I had one like this. It was perfect.  The music.  The venue on the river.  The cool early summer breeze.  The sparkling sky.  The refreshing rain.  The people.  The beautiful people.  I didn’t want it to end. 

For one night, I was not walking on quicksand.  I was reminded of what life is about.  Who I am.  What my soul needs.  What we all need.  John Lennon was right, “all we need is love”.

Then the next day and the next day and the next day. I moved forward, but now I realize I am walking in quicksand.  Now I feel myself starting to sink.  I keep trying to pull myself up and move forward, but I just keep feeling myself sinking.  I see many trees, yet the forest is too thick.  I see glimmers of light, but night is setting fast.  The quicksand is getting thicker.  I will still try to move forward. 

I

will

try.

Surviving the storm

An old friend of mine is a published author, extremely spiritual, highly intelligent, a great mom, and suffers from clinical depression. Over the years I have read her blogs, status updates, and book excerpts. I have found her ability to communicate her thoughts and feelings about her depression remarkable and admirable. 

 It seems like no matter how I hard I try, or how successful I think I have been in explaining my depressive episodes, in the end I fail. My friend has verbalized the clinical aspects of how the brain's chemistry fluctuates and allows your inner most darkest thoughts create fear and self doubt. She talks about how even in the most happiest of moments, when she was battling the depression she Couldn't make sense of it. 

See you are often aware that it's happening, but can't stop it or wake up from it. Imagine floating on the ocean's surface. It's a nice day, sun shining, and all is peaceful. As you look across the blue sky you see dark clouds in the distance, you see it's coming, despite your best efforts you can't get to shore fast enough and BOOOM the storm is upon you. with each wave you get tossed under and you fight to swim back to the surface. As the storm intensifies each wave push you further and further under. You know that panicking will only making the situation worse, but you are tiring from fighting your way back to the surface. You know that if you can just ride a wave or two you'll make it through, but the waves seem to come faster, stronger, and larger. Each time you are under the anxiety and panic take over. Before you know it you are drowning. Eventually the storm passes and you have survived again, but the next time you see a threatening cloud or wave the memory of the storm comes back and your body betrays you with panic or anxiety. 

 Here I sit, battling those horrible thoughts while my body betrays me with shortness of breath, heart palpitations, and stomach problems. An inability to stay focused on ANYTHING, amplified feelings of irritation that explode into anger, difficulties falling asleep, and avoidance of making decisions. Crippling thoughts of self deprecation, I struggle to rationalize but manage to do just enough to keep hold of my logic. If I do this than they'll may not be happy, if I do that then those people won't be happy, if I do this than I will express my anger and they will be hurt, if I do, then, if I do, then, if - then, if - then. It is an unending storm that keeps me awake and leads to the anxiety attacks. Compound this with graduate school, teaching in a toxic environment, a toddler, an infant, and other factors, there is no time for myself and my tolerance is nill. Oh, and when I do try to take time for myself I feel guilty, sad, and anxious too. So I lose my temper, try to focus on me to stop from losing my temper, and lock up my irrational feelings in an attempt to conceal, don't feel (yes that's a Frozen reference). And then I'm greeted with the helpful suggestions of "you should feel" " what's wrong" "stop being so negative" "those words are not meant for you" "why are you feeling that way" "I know you're stressed, but". I wonder if they have any idea of what I really want to say to them at those moments? Like I said, just when I think I have expressed myself and they understand, they say these things. Yeah, great, thanks. Just what I needed to hear, supportive words of logic which I rationally tell myself but have trouble believing. It takes a lot for me to verbalized my feelings, and even more so when it come to this depression. I know my thoughts are off, I know My feelings are amplified to the point of distortion, so why express them? Why expose others to them when they are so hurtful? What kind of person does it make me to have these thoughts? I must be horrible, not worthy, unable to be loving. And there are more of these thoughts. Darker. Deeper. Horrible. What are the triggers? They vary from one unplanned circumstance, to not having a break in my day from the time I wake up until then time I go to bed, a happily active toddler, a hungry baby, running late to see a friend when time doesn't matter, and any type of confrontation. Recently it's been a hard road. I've been dealing with difficult circumstances that are unavoidable which has increased my stress and therefore everything else. I try. Sometimes I fail. Miserably. And when I do stumble, when I try to listen to my body and give it the break it needs so I can cope with everyday life, many don't understand. I'm greeted with the litany of "you should feel" "I know you're stressed, but", and so on. Thanks. You didn't help. You've made it worse. Now I feel more guilty for trying to do for me instead of someone else. Now I feel more inadequate, more horrible, more sad, and less desiring of communicating anything because it truly feels like no one understands. So here I sit today in the midst of a storm. "Nobody's Listening". Linkin' Park (Tried to give you warning but everyone ignores me) Told you everything loud and clear (But nobody’s listening) (Called to you so clearly but you don’t want to hear me) Told you everything loud and clear (But nobody’s listening) I got a heart full of pain, head full of stress handfull of anger, held in my chest Uphill struggle Blood sweat and tears Nothing to gain Everything to fear Heart full of pain, head full of stress

Distance

The window reflects my mind

Thunderstorm aftermath

Dreariness of hidden light

The rain washed nothing

Joy sits in my lap

my heart removed

Emotions tap silently

Darkness tingles

Kindness a habit

Steps like rain on saturated ground

Futile

Sinking without progression

hope lies in my arms

This Place of Grey

In this place of grey
 I fight to bathe in the light
The cloud of fear
 Expands and contrasts
Never bursting
 It lingers
It looms
It shades my reflection
Moving across my face
Hiding the darkness
Illuminating the sadness
Moments of laughter
 Moments of joy I
try to hold on
I try to embrace
 I try to feel
But the cloud just lingers
 The cloud just looms
A spectator I become
Wanting to laugh
So the actor takes the stage
 In this place of grey
The white becomes black
The black becomes white
As the rain falls
I bleed grey
Watching my life move
Without a starring role
With the cloud always lingering
With the cloud always looming
My place has become
This place of grey

Sleeping dreams

As the sun kisses the new horizon Dreams bask on the shore and flourish into passions Stretching and reaching for the rays of love The star's warmth embraces its growth As the days light sets The once illuminated dream enters its dusk Time to rest A dormant heart Will the dream awake? Did it ever truly sleep?

Adieu, Je t'apprécie vraiment

As the year comes to an end, my thoughts are naturally brought to the events that have passed. Today, they drift to those who are on the horizon of my life’s vision. Over the last 5 years life has gone down an unchartered path for me. Over 15 years of memories and hopes were outgrown and packed away in storage bins. But the people, the people, they cannot be so easily stored away. Throughout life you have friends, acquaintances, co-workers, family, and even a few crazies that seem to drift in and out like the rising tide. This last year seems to have more people sailing into the horizon as I watch from the shore. Some may say that is the opposite, I am sailing and they are ashore, however I refrain from that thought for the moment. Many days of laughter and tears, shenanigans and fears, have come and gone. It is only logical that with certain major life changes, some people will sail to another port and new face appear. For a few, it is a bitter-sweet farewell, while others are more of a good riddance. However, there are some that you never thought would go. They would always be there, I mean you were always there for each other nothing could break the bond weaved with shared experiences. Yet, I see them drifting away. It saddens me to watch them turn into shadows of days past. I want to hold on, but my immediate needs keep me bound to nothing more tan a text, which is often not returned. So as I embrace the new year with family and friends, I bid to those adieu. Forever in my heart you will remain and a day for reminiscing will remain on my calendar for us. I wish you could be here with me in 2013, but it does not seem to be in the cards. Please know that I love you and will be here upon your visit home.

The End

In truth, I don’t want to dwell on all the events of the last 3 years, but in order to understand the present I must revisit the past. Please forgive me if it’s short, choppy, or missing a few details. Somethings I have chosen to forget, others are neatly packed away and stored in order for me to heal. Shortly after my last post, my world officially exploded. My now ex-husband (that should serve as a bit of foreshadowing) continued to stay out with varying reasons as to why he “needed to” or “couldn’t come home”. The turning point was a Sunday night in May. He had a gig playing a dinner dance with a local ethnic organization. I was invited to go, but encouraged not to because everyone would be speaking a language that I didn’t understand and I may not be comfortable. Being that I was just getting over walking pneumonia I was still not feeling 100 percent and stayed home. The event was to start at 4:00PM, he left at 1:00PM. This was not highly unusual since there is set up time involved when playing a gig. So he packed the car and off he went. Around 9PM he texted me to say that he was staying a little longer since he was relaxed and having a good time. I really wanted him to come home. I texted him back saying that I missed him, but it didn’t change anything. Around 11PM I began to text him again to find our when he would be headed home, but no response. Finally, at 11:30 he calls me from the local bar … “I’m meeting our friend here for a beer. I don’t think I should be driving home. Maybe you could come get me? But I’m not that far. Oh, is that our friend over there? Never mind, it’s late you don’t have to come and get me. Hi, friend…” click. I tried to get in a word. I tried to tell him that I would come get him. I tried to tell him I would come even after he had one more. I tried to agree with him that if he felt he shouldn’t drive then I should come. I tried. The next call I got was at 1:30AM. He was calling from the county sheriff’s department to tell me he had car trouble and he needed me to come and get him. Before I could get specifics of exactly where he was, he hung up. I was hesitant to call the number on the caller ID because – well - it was the sheriff’s office, so I called his cell phone. It went into voice mail. Then I called the sheriff’s office, but an answering machine picked up. I called the friend he met up with for some insight, but the last he saw him was leaving the bar. As I drove to the sheriff’s office I continued to call his cell and the sheriff’s number, but to no avail. I knew that the story of “car trouble” was not true because if that was the case why wouldn’t have the sheriff just driven him home after having the car towed? Also, why wasn’t he answering his cell phone? Why didn’t he call from his cell phone? When I arrived at the sheriff’s the main entrance was dark. I drove around the building, but saw no other public entrance. I drove back, and often continued to call his cell and the sheriff’s. Shortly after I arrived home, the house phone rang. He was asking if I was on my way. I explained what I had just been through for the last hour and that I had no idea if I was even at the correct sheriff’s office since there seemed to be no entrance. The sheriff’s officer got on the phone and told me where I could enter to pick him up. At a quarter to 3 in the morning, I am greeted by the officer at the sheriff’s department. My ex-husband is sitting at another officer’s desk just chatting up a storm about his gig and how he played at a recent fundraiser for the sheriff. Immediately, my fears are confirmed. He was arrested for a DUI. As he said hello to me and asked me not to be mad, I could smell the alcohol. Every pore in his body reeked of the rum, beer, tequila, and Lord knows what else. The officer pulled me into another room to explain the events that led to his arrest and the legality and responsibility of me signing a release form to take him home. He was stopped about a half mile from home for speeding 10 miles over the speed limit in a school zone, once he began to speak the officer asked him to step out of the car and proceeded to perform a sobriety test. After he failed the test, a breathalyzer was administered, it registered 1.6. The officers arrested him, impounded the car, and administered 2 more breathalyzers back at the station. Those tests registered 1.4 and 1.1 respectively. “So, Officer, what happens if I refuse to sign and accept responsibility for him?” “He stays in jail overnight and is released on his own recognizance after 24 hours from the time of the arrest.” In all honesty, I seriously considered letting him stay in jail overnight. I was furious. Livid. Distraught. And the writing on the wall turned into a neon sign. But I was a good wife, I took him home. He wanted to talk about it on the way home, but I refused to discuss it because I knew that anything we talked about would be forgotten because he was so intoxicated. When we arrived home I told him that we would talk when I got home from school. I told him that this was either going to make or break our marriage, his decisions had brought us to this impasse and were going to be the determining factors in its outcome. In an attempt to control my anger I proceeded to establish that he was not in a school zone when the original offense occurred and that he should call a lawyer when he woke up later that day. I got an hour of sleep and went to school. Exhausted and working on pure adrenaline I forged my way through the school day, then on to my second job the after care program until 6PM. When I arrived home he was angry because I was “late” and we needed to get to the impound before 7 otherwise he would have to wait until the following day to get his car. So, under extremely stressful conditions I drove to the impound where we paid nearly $200 to have the car released and then went home. He thanked me for my patience the night before and agreed that this was a crossroads in our relationship. He told me that he had been questioning his love for me and my lack of ability to put “us” before “me”. He felt like I was turning into someone he didn’t know. He said he was unsure of what he wanted, and his friends from the school where he worked – the 25 year olds that had never been married – were telling him that since he was that unhappy he should get a divorce. I don’t know where the grace came from, but it overcame me rather than the anger and betrayal I was feeling. I calmly explained to him that I was the one at home trying to live up to his expectations. I had been trying to meet his needs of dinner cooked, laundry done, house work done, planning romantic outings, and the like. The problem was that he was never home nor consistent in his schedule or desires. I suggested counseling. I suggested a couples retreat. I suggested more date nights. I suggested coming home every night rather than staying out with his friends who drank and always managed to keep his mind off time and out later than he expected only to ultimately offer their couch for him to sleep on. None of these were acceptable. According to him none of these would help our marriage. I told him that all there was left for me to do was to pray that the counseling he would need to undergo for the DUI would help him to see the poor decisions he had been making over the last 2 years. I prayed that it would help him to see how his choices to stay out and drink with friends was affecting our marriage. I prayed that he would see that I was a good wife, that the problems we were facing were not insurmountable if he could only meet me half way in tackling them. His court date came and went. He lost his license for a few months and didn’t register for his counseling until late August. In July, we had another heart to heart. He said he was in the marriage all the way and was going to work on it. Then about 3 days later it was a summer morning. I reached over to touch him and recoiled in his sleep. I got in my car and drove to the state park. I sat in my car and prayed for guidance as to how best handle the situation. That little internal voice spoke up, “Ask him is he willing to work on this marriage or not.” So with tears in my eyes, fearing his answer, I mustered up the strength and went home to ask. My world crashed around me as he said that he was no longer willing to work at it and wanted a divorce. “Make sure that’s what you really want, because if it is once the process begins and those papers are signed there is no going back. It’s over forever and you might as well be dead to me.” I won’t even begin to go through the reasons that he listed, which of course were my fault and taking very little responsibility for himself. Don’t get me wrong he took the responsibility for letting it drag out so long, but that’s about where it ended. He remained in the house for the next 3 months until I told him I couldn’t take being under the same roof with him. I spent more nights in the grocery store parking lot than I care to count. I have never felt pain so deep. My heart truly broke. Next…. Let the Healing Begin