You're a mean one, Mr Grinch...

As far back as I can remember I've never been much of a fan of Christmas, most holidays actually, but Christmas is the big kahuna of holidays.  It's all of the pressure, cost, calories and time consumption of all the others tied into a 36 hour period (I'm counting Christmas eve too).  We get overly concerned with the "right" gift, the "right" outfit, the "right" meal, it's just got to be "right". There are hours and days of movies, tv specials and music clouding the airways. We have mothers and fathers working themselves to exhaustion with working and shopping and wrapping all in the name of the Season (capital S is intentional).  We debate on tv the "war on Christmas" (IMHO total crap) and there are countless segments on finding the perfect gift and how to find a bargain.  All in the best interests of corporate America and their goal to get all of our money.  Trust me, I'm a great shopper, I love finding bargains but I get overwhelmed by the sales and coupons.  For years now I've vowed not to set foot in a mall from 11/15 to 1/15 except for when Mike and I do our holiday tradition. I have lovely people whom I love buying gifts for, friends, family, nieces, nephews and co-workers. I would never hesitate to not give a gift but I truly hate this time of year. 

Mike and I have had many, many, many discussions about why I don't decorate and why I don't just love it like everyone else.  Let me say one thing first, I jokingly called myself a Grinch for a while but I would never take holiday love away from anyone else. I would not begrudge someone their love of Santa or snowmen or having 10 Christmas trees in their home, that's just not what I want to do or to have around me.  Mike is one of those Christmas guys, he loves the decorations and the lights and I love that he loves it.  This year I really talked to a few people about it, I tried to make myself understand it and I realized that if I was just honest then it made sense.  If I was honest with myself and with those around me I know I'm not alone. I hate the holidays because they are bone crushingly lonely for those of us not coupled up.  This is not a Cathy woe is me WAHHHHHH I need to eat ice cream moment.  This is honesty.  The holidays are made for couples and families.  I am not a couple and I am part of a family but I am not leading my own family.  It's just me.  Trust me, I was very, very well loved this Christmas.  I spent time with all the people I love the most and was welcomed not only into my family but into three others as well.  I had a wonderful time catching up with friends and family. I laughed and I was able to play and, like so many others, eat and drink too much and give up on sleep.  I was able to do all those things.  But I didn't have that special someone to share a look with or roll an eye at a sister in law or cousin. 

I'm not complaining, I don't want to do anything with this other than to share what your sister or brother or nephew may be thinking if they dread the holidays. If your best friend hates everything about Christmas telling her to put up a tree or not be such a Grinch may not be the best way to handle it. Ask why, ask if they are ok.  This can, for some people be so much bigger than just being alone like I am.  For some people the holidays are debilitating. I did some research and all of the articles seem to talk about stress, high expectations, money troubles and family triggers that seem to all come to a head during this time of year. (Back to the concerns with getting things exactly "right".) These triggers seem to hit at the same time when we are overwhelmed and the weather is frightful and then the pressure sets in from everywhere, TV, Movies, family, well meaning friends and even ourselves. Why can't I just be like everyone else? Why can't I listen to Christmas carols? Why can't I want to decorate and shop until I drop?  What is it about me that's broken?  Listen gentle reader (or reader's cousin) there is nothing wrong, nothing at all. We all celebrate differently and hold different things in our hearts. There is no right and wrong way to celebrate the holidays, it's whatever is true for your heart.

Can we please remember in the coming weeks that this is a tough time for everyone around, can we try and be kinder and gentler? Can we try and be more patient and understanding? Can we please just remember that everyone is dealing with their own demons and fighting their own fights? This blog post is a bit scattered like we all are at this time of year, and that's ok too.  Be safe, be kind and be well in the new year.

Risk Worthy Behavior

I've realized in the past week how much I rely on the people in my life whom I truly, completely trust to let me process things out loud.  I've had a rough 2015-I originally typed horrid but that's melodramatic even for me. It's been an emotional sucker punch of a year and it's ending just as painfully as it has been in the past 6 months. 

At least when B left me, he just walked away, there were no hate filled barbs, there was no vile words I'd have to recover from, very little blame, he just vanished. Not so with all the relationships I lost this year, and that's ok too.  Somehow being spoken to like I'm the most vile, disgusting, hated person in the world is easier to recover from than a betrayal by the man you love.  Mind you this latest heartbreak wasn't a romantic relationship, but losing people is just hard all around.  And frankly when B left me it was shocking, the other not so much, I was kinda expecting it.  I mention this to do a mini year in review and to honor the gallons of tears I've shed, the boxes of tissues I've spent and the sleepless nights replaying conversations over and over and over hoping for insight into someone else.  But the conversations I have inside my head don’t yield the same results as actually talking to someone I trust. 

I have a circle of people who I can talk to about what's going on. They know (or know of) all the players and can offer silence, guidance, reassurance or camaraderie with what's going on.  I was talking to a friend at work last week about this latest thing and I realized that I have fallen into the stereotype that goes with women, we talk and talk and talk about things. That made me smile, that I get why we do it, I get why we are so compelled to talk things through. Or at least I get why I do it. I really want to understand why something happened, it's a flaw of mine. I want to get to the why.  And I've learned that's not always possible.

When I was in therapy for the rape and subsequent PTSD I learned that sometimes shitty things just happen, there is no rhyme, no reason, no greater cause. It's just part of being a vulnerable human being. It's part of just existing and with getting your heart broken it's part of being willing to be open and love someone.  The risk that if you do they will let you down, they will betray you, they will go crazy and hate you, it's all a risk with opening your heart. And, to me, it's worth the risk. I don't care how many times I get heart stomped on, I don't care how many tears I cry, ultimately love is worth it.  I don't want to look back and see that I've closed myself off, that I've hidden or apologized for being who I am, that's the ultimate betrayal-denying who I really am.  That's what I really learned in the past few months, I have managed to surround myself with loving, kind, generous, tough, smart, funny, (did I mention loving?), insightful, amazing people.  These people in my tribe know who I really am, they don't see me and fill me with their expectations of who I should be or (more importantly) who I used to be, they take the time to know me, to know my heart. A small shout out seems timely but I don't want to forget anyone so if you think I'm talking about you, I am, and I love you!

So in this journey of healing I've found out more and more about who I am and where I want to go, step by step.  I am truly looking at all forms of fitness here, spiritual, nutritional, physical, emotional and even my career.  I am focused on eating right, working out, sleeping as I need to, writing poetry and journaling and talking to those I love.  And as I'm sitting here, watching some lovely children I realize that this is exactly as it should be, love completely and with your whole heart, it's worth the risk.

Healing tides

There is just something about the ocean, the grandeur, the vastness, the consistency and reliability of the water makes me breathe a little bit easier.  I'm in North Carolina this weekend for my sister's birthday and my youngest brother's college graduation but I'm here for me too. I'm here to let the sand and waves I love so much try and heal some small part of me. Maybe the vast waves crashing all the way from Europe or Africa does it or the tiny pieces of sand that are just shattered shells worn smooth let me see how the small scattered parts of ourselves can come together to make something new if we can just let go a little and breathe and trust. I know I'll never be the same for having loved B or anyone else.  That kind of cellular connection alters who you are. It's like Pandora and her box, once it's opened there's no going back. You are changed. My hope is that it is always for the good and for making me a better, kinder person. Love does that, love makes us our best selves. When that best self, the one you thought would be loved forever is rejected your very foundation can be shattered like that shell that is eventually turned to sand with pieces scattered everywhere. Think about the task of making a shell whole again finding each tiny miniature part again. But what if, instead of finding each exact piece you tried new ones replacing the missing with art and poetry and song.

But that's a hard thing to do too, parts of me are changing with no warning to some people around me and that can be shocking too.  It's hard to stand up for who you are and who you want to be when everyone around is still playing the same old reindeer games. Sometimes it feels like making any change is pushing back against something and someone. But where I am, staying still and not allowing this change won't work for me either. The phrase turn the other cheek pops into my mind. Jesus acknowledged turning the other cheek, we are taught to go the extra mile for someone who hurts us or pray for people instead of resisting. Martin Luther King tells us: darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that. So while I do what is necessary for my self preservation I pray, I send love into the universe and I let the ocean move around me, softening my edges.

Mrs Watkins

It was an interesting weekend spent out of town at the Big 10 Championship. As always, Mike and I had a great time hanging out, laughing, wandering around and playing but something strange happened. We were staying with a colleague of Mike's in Indianapolis, whom I've only met once, and he thought I was Mike's wife.  It's jarring to be referred to by a name I only borrowed briefly in the late 90's and haven't used in years. Rather than try to explain our history and this delicate complex relationship after our divorce that even we don't understand, we went along with it.  Trust me, if you have seen us together you'd think we were still married, and even today have far too many people tell us we should consider re-marrying. Let me go on record as saying we were terrible married and it just doesn't work for us, we love each other but we are not couple material, we need separate relationships and addresses. But it was odd to be introduced to this wonderful couple's grandson as Mrs Watkins and to be asked about our courtship and our wedding.  It's funny to think how much has really changed for us, not just as a couple but as individuals.

I've thought a lot this weekend about who I used to be, what I used to be.  As I've moved through each year I always think ok this must be who I am now, I'm comfortable with me and this is it, this is who I am. And to a small degree I'm right, but I think if I met me from the Mrs. Watkins days I wouldn't recognize her and I know she wouldn't know me. On our drive today we talked a lot about who we were when we were married and what we did.  I know that I stepped up and took care of everything and he let me do it. That's what I did, that's what I do, I take care of things.

I do this in relationships, I take care of things, of people. I've done it in all my relationships and Mike called me out on it again this weekend.  Partly it's I want to take care of the people I love, but in relationships I feel a bit like I'm begging to be loved.  I read a post this weekend from Purple Clover (http://www.purpleclover.com/relationships/5304-no-good-deed/#) that I cannot stop thinking about. I can see exactly what this woman did, it makes total sense to me to act like she did, to take those extraordinary measures to save a man who didn't want to be saved.  I kept thinking about how I do this, I try to save the men in my life who should be capable of saving themselves (*disclaimer, Mike is awesome and does not need nor did he need saving by me or anyone else*). 

It's an interesting and painful read, the key for me now is that I recognize it. Actually when it got pointed out to me by Andy Myers, it rang true then too.  But the new path, the new way is how can I be different next time? How can I change so that when Mr Wonderful comes knocking he will actually deserve me and I won't have to feel like I have to prove I'm worthy of love.  This ties to what happened to B too, he needed saving-he actually thanked me for that at one point, and I'm starting to see, I mean REALLY see that the issue in our relationship is actually his.  I helped with what he needed and once he felt whole again and was done using me he found someone else.  It happened with D and it happened with K and R as a matter of fact.  I "fix" and they move on to someone else, I can't help it, I'm a fixer, I'm a planner.  

I'm know this weekend and the brush with Mrs Watkins will stay with me this week and how much I hve changed, and how much I still want to do better-for me.  It was a great big bright light shined into a corner of my life I try not to acknowledge let alone feel. I'm not ready to put it totally into words yet, the wound is still too raw but someday, someday.

I wrote a poem

I wrote a poem. Not shocking, I love writing, I love poetry.  When I fell in love with B for the first time a million years ago I learned how to write poetry.  It was my way to process love and loss and high school and my parents divorce and eventually break-ups and rape and family issues. I learned how to process what was in my heart using the most beautiful words I could find. I learned that sometimes very ugly things can be understood in language and rhyme schemes and specific verse format. I learned to take words that weren't verbs and make them gerunds. I learned that tear stained pages were a good first draft of anything.  I learned that sitting in a classroom reading what amounted to my journal was brutal and hard and exhilarating.  I learned that I have a voice, it's funny and sarcastic and bittersweet and from what I've heard, relatable. I learned that words are my thing. I love them, I love turning a phase in a new and interesting way. 

What's been interesting to me the past few months is that I haven't been able to write about the breakup. I have written about my parents, I've written about feather mandalas, about crabapple trees and my grandmother but I hadn't been able to write about him, until recently that is. I thought I was feeling better, days will go by-ok hours, without thinking of B.  And then it hits me again, he's gone and I reach for my pen and my pink leather hand made poetry journal.  In writing so much anger comes out, so much hurt that I'm left breathless and weak.  But the only thing I know to do is to keep reaching for my pen and paper.  That's another odd thing. I always write my blog on the Mac, but with poetry I always have to use a pen and paper, it's a mental block for me, I have to have that physical connection to the pen for it to feel true to me.  I can feel things getting better, this whole feeling the feelings BS thing is kinda for the birds, but it works. It's also not for the faint of heart, it takes guts and moxie to own how you feel.  For example today was not a great day, Sunday's never are for me (note to self, work on loving Sundays) so today I have had moose tracks ice cream, powdered donuts and oatmeal-essentially I’m going with healthy today, hitting all the food groups. I talked to my therapist and sometimes this happens, old coping skills come back up and seem to be the only way to deal, and today that was my day. I needed an old coping mechanism.  And now I'm deciding to go with the new coping mechanism so I wrote a poem.

I write because I have to. I've heard writers say that for years and I never understood that until now. I write not because I want people to hear me, I write because I want to understand.  That's something I've heard from other writers too, they want to understand.  We want to understand our world and our place in the world.  We want to understand our hearts and how they work and if something that we've discovered helps someone else then it's a wonderful thing but if not then maybe I understand something new.  And isn't that what our journey through all the stars is about, learning and understanding something new? Or maybe that's just the perspective of a poet and a dreamer.

I wrote a poem today.

But Why???

It's been an interesting year, no this isn't the year in review that I'm currently plotting, but just a comment on how far I've come in just a short year.  What I’m proud of right now is that I can admit I've signed up for too much. A couple weeks ago I talked about participating in NANOWRIMO.  Yea, that ship sailed for me.  I haven't had a chance to write lately and have missed several days, ok-a week.  That puts me behind by about 14,000 words.  Not insurmountable but if I’m honest about my calendar the next few weeks, I don't want to take the time to make up the words. I'm making a choice to not finish. I’m taking time to do what I need to do for me.  I have lots of things going on that I'm going to choose right now.  I'm not quitting my writing, I think I have a great start to something. But for right now I am choosing to quit this crazy challenge and refocus on me. And frankly I miss poetry. 

What am I focusing on instead? Thanks for asking. I have hired a trainer and she's set some aggressive goals with me, that makes me want to get back to the gym, to sweating and lifting heavy things.  I started with Laura last Thursday and I figured out something by Friday morning. I am stubborn and want to finish all the sets and I don't speak up enough.  I could barely walk by Saturday from six sets of squats and three sets of lunges.  Yesterday my triceps started screeching at me and I'm still sore, it's not quite that I can't straighten my arms but I'm very aware of the muscles in my arms.  My trainer is out of town until Sunday so it’s up to me to make sure that I honor my commitment this week for myself.  So this week I am going to lift weights three times and get three days of cardio in.  I'm envious of people who can work out in the mornings, that is so not me at all. I have had people beg me to stop working out in the mornings because I tend to stay cranky all day.   

I'm excited to get back in the swing again, I have a few weddings coming up next year and I have a picture of how I'd like to look, I know how I'd like to feel and that's most important. I'm not doing this for anyone but me.  I went to see Jillian Michaels speaking last year and she said something that stuck with me, she said you need to figure out YOUR why.  Not the great honorable I'd like to be healthy or live a long life. Those things are far too soft, they are too theoretical.  Your why needs to be tangible or even somewhat shallow.  You have a reunion coming up and want to look good, you have a party or your daughter is getting married. Thankfully I don't have a reunion for a while but there are some holiday parties coming up and, so far, 2 weddings next year.  I'd really like to have something that's not my normal wedding gear to wear.  I'd like a blue dress or maybe a red one.  What makes me smile in all this is that I'm not doing this to meet a man or please anyone else.  I'm doing this for me and no one else.

So if you want to make a change, if you want to do something different is there a tangible reason to make the change? Is there something, no matter how shallow, that will inspire you to make a change? Are you tired of wearing all black? Are you tired of not being able to wear knee high boots? Would you like to be able to take the stairs and not worry about breathing heavy? Do you want to wear a swimsuit? Do you want to be able to go sleeveless? Do you have an event with an ex and want to make them eat their heart out? Do you want to fit into that dress for that thing? You have to have the compelling reason and being healthy sometimes just isn't enough.

What's YOUR why?

Apologies, Dating and Gwen Stefani

I’m starting to feel like part of me owes B an apology.  I have said, more than once, at some point over the last 2 months that I was sorry I ever loved him. That's not true. I will never be sorry for giving myself to someone wholly and completely. I don't operate in halves. I don't love by half either and my hope with getting through this is that I never will, that my heart will always stay open.

Right now there is a song out by Gwen Stefani that hits home with me to my core, it is an amazing song. The lines that ring with me right now are:

I don't know why I cry

But I think it's cause I remembered for the first time

Since I hated you

That I used to love you

I'm not at the point that I used to love him, I still do love him but it gets smaller and smaller every day. I’m learning how to let that go.  I'm happy to have gotten the chance to love, I'm still sad, I'm still so hurt but maybe some anger is dissipating, maybe I'm opening up myself to something, to someone more.  Someone more my equal, someone who can get me, someone who can really love me, someone brave enough to love me back for who I am.  Well, once I figure out who I am exactly.

Thinking in this direction will lead, inevitably, to my dating again at some point. I'm starting to hear about wonderful dating stories (only slight sarcasm there). I was at dinner a few weeks ago with my friend Kevin.  He is amazing and so funny. We were talking about dating-not each other mind you (our tastes in men is similar though) and he told a wonderful story about going out to dinner with a gentleman suitor.  This particular evening Kevin was happy to be out with a friend. They had been trying for some time to make plans.  It was a nice dinner and Kevin didn't think twice about it.  Later, from a mutual friend he realized he was on a date-he didn't know that at the time. Other than making me laugh, this got me thinking about dating in the world of swiping and subtlety. 

Honestly I am torn about the idea of eventually dating like that again. My personal hope is that I can post my own dating profile on Facebook and my blog and you guys can go find Mr Wonderful for me.  But today I'm feeling a little different. Today I want to go have wine with someone I don’t intend to build a relationship with but someone I can laugh with a little and maybe trade a few lies.  I want to be reckless and bold and reclaim parts of myself just for me. I want to kiss someone in my elevator and go back to the old days of playing baseball. I don't want forever I just want right now.  I want the last person I kissed to not have been B.  He doesn't deserve that.

And this leads to another fun thought that Kevin and I discussed.  With B leaving, I get to have first kisses again, those awkward, funny, uncomfortable, magical moments when we decide we like someone.  Or that someone is suitable for right now.  I've been writing a lot of poetry lately about grieving and breakups and what to do and not do when faced with this situation and there are no right and wrong answers. Every decision is based, for me, on what will I not regret in six months.

But for now, for this minute I am going to remember that I loved him, he loved me and I'm lucky that I can feel those things.  Someday I will find someone else who will appreciate me and my love and will deserve what I have to give.  I end one of my poems: Not everyone can love enough to be pulled apart at the leaving.  That's where I'm trying to find gratitude, I can love that much, that I can be pulled apart when I'm left.

And unlike Kevin, I hope that when I'm on a date I know it! And at the very least I will have a few good stories and some laughs. 

If you want to listen to the Gwen Stefani song the link is here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeT_nYtjgTQ

NANOWRIMO

That's one of those words (is it a word?) that rolls around in your mouth.  What is NANOWRIMO?  Well, once  a year a bunch of writers get together and decide to challenge themselves to write a 50,000 word novel during the month.  So NANOWRIMO is National Novel Writer's Month.  I've done this a few times in the past, actually completed it twice.  I haven't ever re-read the things I've written, but I have finished.

I decided that this year would be another good year to try.  If you break it down, it's 1667 words a day for the full month to hit 50,000 by November 30. Having Thanksgiving towards the end helps too, extra time to get the word counts in and up to where they need to be.  I've spent so much time lately in poetry and in condensing words and picking the exact right one that somehow an exercise in telling a 375 page story is a bit daunting (last time was 377 pages).  I've grown accustomed to cutting words down and trying to tell the story in short bursts.  This daunting task of all these words available to me seems terrifying, not a luxury.  With poetry you have to be very specific, every word is weighed and measured and selected or rejected carefully based on sounds and emotions and how it fits with line breaks, there is a science to this art.  But NANOWRIMO challenges us to just put fingers to keys and type, type it all out, just keep typing.

I find myself telling the story of B but just as an introduction. The idea I had was to tell the story of how I've been working through the break up. I am currently working on a poem called "Lessons in Being Left" and it offers handy and slightly snarky comments on how to survive a breakup.  Each stanza lends its self to a chapter, for example the title for chapter 1 becomes:

Stop listening to the radio

he is not every song, although

it feels like it was all written

for you,  maybe switch genres

to Old Time Rock and Roll or NPR?

And then I am planning to tell pithy funny stories about crying on the way to work because of Norah Jones or Adele or mabye how listening to Jim Gaffigan riff on bacon is the antidote to tears.

I'm curious to see what comes of this month of writing, I'm hopeful that my construct works, that I can find the words and the path in this to find something new, something worth sharing at some point.  Some of my friends, my cheering section, have challenged me to actually go reread whatever I write. That's terrifying to me, a lot of what will go on paper is free writing, there will be paragraphs about how I hate writing or lists of things I need to get done in the day.  Some of it will be embarrassing and childish but the important thing at the end of the day is that I will get to 50,000 words.

It's odd to talk about this out loud as it were.  I am setting myself up for questions and comments and I've just made myself publically accountable for actually doing this, I'm opening myself up yet again and it feels oddly right.  If you are a closet writer and want to check this out, I am always available for questions or you can check out www.nanowrimo.org.

Write on!
 

Falling in Love Again

I know this isn't shocking to anyone, but (like so many millions) I love Adele.  Her music is what we listen to when we need to cry, when we need to let it out.  I listened to her new song once and had to stop, but today I read a new interpretation of the song, that Adele is not signing to an ex boyfriend and trying to reconnect with him at all.  It's about Adele trying to reconnect with herself after a breakup. 

Relationships are wonderful and terrible and so hard.  When you are like me, and have been single for a while it's hard to balance friends with a new love and with family.  Like a typical 15 year old (or again all of us) I dropped everything for B. I tried to still keep a toe into my friends and family but with only getting to see him every other weekend and one of us traveling, our time together was sacred so, in a way, I stepped out of my life.  I was sitting at my cousin Aaron's football game today and realized that I don't get invited to things anymore.  Once you've said no or I’m busy too often then people stop asking. 

I feel like I need to make up with myself, learn to fall in love with my life and myself again.  It feels familiar to be disconnected though, I used to travel a lot for work and I missed so much that I have been disconnected for a while.  If you read the lyrics with the spin towards Adele talking to herself it's exactly what I’m feeling. 

Hello, it's me

I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet

To go over everything

They say that time's supposed to heal ya, but I ain't done much healing

Hello, can you hear me?

I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be

When we were younger and free

I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet-Adele

This is what we do, we give all to a relationship and when that rug is yanked from our feet we stumble, we crash to the floor and we fall apart.  A friend was asking what she could do to help, how could she make me feel better and it hit me, I've drifted so far from my center that I just don't know.  I can't tell her, I have no idea what will help.  Stupid time will, but that's about all I know.

I've been thinking a lot lately about falling in love and what we do when we start to fall.  If you really stop and think about it, when we fall in love with someone, all we want is to be with them and learn everything we can.  How often have you said we finish each other's sentences? We can communicate with a single look? He knows me inside out? I know I've said and felt all of those things, they are true. I'm not even on the same planet as being ready to feel that for someone else again.  But  maybe I want to feel that about myself? What if I want to fall in love with myself?  I think I've started in the right direction. I'm writing again and I started painting, watercolors are really fun.  And tomorrow is another exciting adventure, I signed up with a personal trainer.

This blog will get back to some of what I'd originally pictured it as, me being super cranky about having to work out.  The creative side of me is being nurtured and cared for, my actual job is a going well so now I want to work on getting physically stronger. 

What can you do to fall in love a little bit with yourself?

I am enough

It's been an interesting journey the past few months, and interesting is being kind. I talked to Mike last night about this feeling of sadness, this sneaky quiet feeling of emptiness and loneliness.  Mike asked me a question about how this feels, does this feel any better or different.  Let me just warn you that being best friends with a journalist is painful.  Mike always knows what to ask and because he knows me, he knows exactly how to ask. 

When your heart is first broken, when the feelings are raw and you are still reeling from the betrayal and disappointment it is overwhelming and sharp and constant.  And then suddenly it isn't constant and it's a bit duller.  You realize you can get up and start to handle life again and maybe you feel a little cocky. I've got this you think, I did this the right way and now it's done and as you are patting yourself on the back for doing so well, you get sucker punched again. FREAKING AGAIN.

I don't know why it hit me so hard this week, I don't understand what happened to bring it all down around me again. It's not like when he first broke us up, it's not so sharp, it's more dull waves that come and go.  There are reminders and I still flip off Kansas drivers whenever I see them, but it's different.  Tom pointed out that I’m living in it-not dwelling but living in it.  I am willing to talk, I'm willing to be honest and talk about how much this all hurts and throws you off your orbit.  My hope is still that my stories help someone else and help me to make sense of all this.

I find that I am talking to myself in trite hallmark sentiments that inspire rage when I hear them from other people. I think a lot about how I will come through this so much stronger than I was before. I know that he will regret quitting on  us for the rest of his life, that he will be lesser for losing me and I'll move on to find a true partner in life, not a quitter. I'm learning so much about myself right now and that's a new level of fitness for me. Get to really know myself, do what I can to help myself feel better or at least not feel worse.  My painting class ends tomorrow night, it's been fun playing with color and water.  I have an idea of what's next for me, it's time to get back to the gym.

I emailed a couple of trainers this week to setup interviews to find my own Jillian Michaels or Bob Harper.  I keep thinking that with the breakup I have done things differently and that's worked out for me, or so people are telling me.  So why not go to the next level with working out, hire someone to inspire me and push me.  All that will happen in 6 months is I'll either still be frustrated with my progress or I could have a whole new body, either way I'll be a year older.  I think I'd like to be a year older and a few sizes smaller and so much stronger.

Strength will win, courage will win.  From Rising Strong from Brene Brown:  "No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It's going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am brave and worthy of love and belonging."

Winning

First…hahaha I mad you think of Charlie Sheen, and if you didn't now you are.

This week I've been thinking about social media and breakups. In the past when we'd break up with someone the most we could do was to drive by their house or call and hang up hoping he wouldn't just so you could hear his voice on the answering machine.  Now there is Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and a million different ways to keep putting a hand in the fire and hurting ourselves.  Unlike drive bys and answering machines, online stalking is so much more anonymous. I don't know how relationships work in this new digital age, it seems so much more painful than what we used to go through, can you ever really disconnect completely from your past?

Mindy and I had a long overdue breakfast and, as happens with close friends, I cannot help but tell her the truth of what's going on. I try to hide it and pretend, but one look and the full stories spill out with I'm ok but not great, etc, blah, blah, blah.  She's knows the whole ins and outs of what B and I had been through to get together  and wanted to hear I was really ok now that he'd ended us so abruptly.

She's in a relationship but divorced a few years ago and, like we all do, made some mistakes. One of her mistakes will email her once a quarter or every six months to check in, he keeps trying to weasel his way back.  We talked about why she doesn't just ignore him and it clicked with me. By him reaching out and not her being the one to instigate, I pointed out that she's winning.  And that's what it is she wins the breakup. And that's why we don't block them, it's a staring contest, last one to blink wins.  And by not blocking them we can keep that line out there and keep tempting ourselves again and again.  I have a couple of those mistakes in my past too and it is beyond tempting to reach out but then again I don't want to be the one who blinks.

B and I weren't friends on FB, but we have people in common, he's popped up here and there on comments and as a FB friend suggestion, but I don't  pull the trigger, I don't block him-not sure that would stop me from seeing his comment on a mutual friend's post, but I can't do it. I haven't gone and searched him either.  And yet as I’m typing this I can't help but wonder does he check up on me too? He originally encouraged me to blog and was my biggest cheerleader.  He knows it's out there but has he read the blog recently and seen my very public musings on getting my heart broken? Does he feel horrible even though he fell in love with Candi with a fucking i? Why do I even care? It's because I'm keeping score in my heart and I'm not the one winning, at least not yet.  And that's the thing I have an issue with, I want this to be done, I want to be past all of this, I want this to be finished. Like B, I want to have moved on.  And that stops me from being here today, like a petulant child wishing away every day so I can be grown up, I'm wishing today away.

I just read a post from Daily Zen: Loving the present moment isn’t complicated. In fact, it’s remarkably simple. The issue is that we’ve been conditioned to do everything the hard way. We take the path of least resistance, which is, ironically, the most difficult path. The path with the fewest obstacles is the least valuable path. It doesn’t teach us anything. It’s easy to make peace the present moment when there aren’t any obstacles in your way. It’s more difficult to do when you experience obstacles, and when you perceive obstacles as problems. If we can make peace with the present even when it’s testing our patience, we can exist in peace under any circumstance. (http://www.thedailyzen.org/2015/10/10/how-to-love-where-you-are/)

What is Dating Fitness?

When I started the blog, it was all about how much I dislike working out and the journey of investing into my 80's but it's morphed into more holistic views of fitness.  I asked a few weeks ago on my Facebook if I should change the name to something else and someone pointed out that fitness is more than just physical. Fitness is mental, it's emotional, it's spiritual, it's financial and that's the direction I want to turn, fit in all things.  And the dating part, that's because I want to try lots of different things before I commit to any one thing. I want to see what works for me in working out or in figuring out my future. I want to explore different options for who I want to be.

That’s the interesting thing about all of this, who we think we are at 18 and 25 is very different than who we are at 30 and 35.  Where I am now, it's all about saying yes and trying new things.  That's what dating is, trying and finding out what you like, who you like.  That's what I'm doing now, the cliché of the newly single, I'm dating myself.  Even typing that simultaneously makes me cringe and laugh. 

I spent the past four days in Las Vegas with some of the most wonderful people on the planet, I love being so quickly welcomed and included into a family. Originally B and I were going to fly out early on Wednesday and spend the day together, he wanted to show me his Vegas (lived there for a decade or so) but then we broke up and I had a whole day to myself before everyone got in.  I texted with a friend, was staggered at how sad I was to be there without him.  But even saying that out loud helped, it wasn't a secret, it was out of my head. 

So I had a day to myself in a city that is overwhelming, I had options.  I looked at skydiving but at $300 it was a bit too pricy for what I wanted to spend.  I considered zip line on Fremont street but that seemed too touristy and really would rather have had someone with me. Ultimately I spent the day at the pool reading and enjoying cocktails and texting, getting the sad out of my system (thank you J).

I spent three days not making a decision, I was able to follow the purple sweater and just say yes to everything. I tried gambling-real gambling not just the slots. I played roulette, craps and blackjack. I watched people who truly know how to play cards. We wandered around the hotel and up and down the strip. It's hard not to be overwhelmed by the people and the noise.  And I have reinforced that my own tolerance for Vegas is 4 days, just like Manhattan, eventually there are too many people and so much noise. But I'd go back again, it is like being on another planet.

So what does this have to do with dating myself? I have no idea but then again we all have those dates that we have no idea about until much later.  This week I'll continue on my dating adventures in the fourth week of my painting class which I love.

I think that this idea of dating fitness is something each of us can do, we can know ourselves a bit better, we can strive for more in this life.

Mother, Life Coach, Financial Analyst

Jen and I went to see Psychic Andy (http://www.andymyersonline.com) on Friday for a Gallery Reading. I had no idea what that was and was excited to see.  A disclaimer, I'm not sure what I believe about psychics and ghosts and heaven reaching through a medium to deliver messages, but why close out something that could be helpful.  End of disclaimer.

What happens is that there were about 90 people in a room and Andy opened the floor for questions. I couldn't figure out what question I wanted to ask but 1/2 way thorough it occurred to me that I want to know if I’m on the right path.  The breakup has pushed me in a different direction, I haven't gone to any of the normal vices, but instead am talking about it, writing, getting back into poetry, painting and I swear as  soon as I have a minute I’m going to start running again.  I was the last person Andy called on, I think I was the 10th? 

I asked my question, I'm dealing with a breakup in a whole new way and am I on the right path? He paused and said, from what I can see you have a lot of paths in front of you, I don't see a wrong one. That was comforting and honestly deep in my bones I do know that, but what he said next stopped me in my tracks.  I verified this with Jen later, but he said, you can't be mother, life coach and financial analyst in a relationship.  That stung a bit because looking back at it, I can see it.  I can see very clearly that I do that, I take care of everything, I am a fixer.  He said he can see that I attract damaged people, alcoholics, and people who can't take care of themselves financially.  When I look back, it's glaring.  While I appreciate that everyone has issues I seem to attract really broken men, and realizing that I don't have to fix everyone I date or fall in love with is (believe it or not) surprising.

He pointed out that it's up to me to break the cycle, that now I know it exists I can do differently next time, and there will be a next time. He said I wouldn't be alone, that He is out there, Andy just didn't know when or how it would happen.  That this man would be financially stable (yea!!), that he'd be funny and kind, that he could have a cocktail and a good time but isn't damaged.  He said he would respect my need to wear the pants and go with the flow.  He would be laid back and know when I just need a hug.  So funny and financially secure are both on my current list of four items, half my list Andy saw for me.  At this point he pointed out that there is a difference between psychic ability and being a medium, I was the first person he wasn't being a medium for-this was more psychic. 

The skeptical part of me thinks it's all hooey and that he is like a horoscope, you read in whatever you want from the answers.  But he could have said anything about me and what I was going through, he could have picked any characteristics but he nailed me specifically.  I think if nothing else it gives me hope. I'm not in any hurry to jump into the next relationship, I’m not rushing anything I'm still just figuring it out.  I'll be my own mother, life coach and financial analyst. 

Perfection

I am fully aware that life is about progress, not perfection.  But the control freak perfectionist inside of me really wants to pick up a paintbrush and become instantly an expert.  Is that too much to ask?  I want to pick up a pen and immediately become the Poet Laureate, I want to touch a keyboard and write the great American novel.  The idea I have for a screenplay should immediately win me an Oscar. I honestly don't think that's asking too much.  

Historically, I have let that pressure stop me from choosing to participate in so many things that it's embarrassing.  I have avoided fun runs, dancing with friends, taking trips, talking to the cute guy on the motorcycle, these are the few that come to mind immediately anyway.  Since the breakup though I have decided no more of that, no more of quitting before I start. If I really want to try something I’m going to try it. If I want to go somewhere I'm going.  More importantly I'm ok doing these things alone.  I signed up for a few art classes and am going alone. I have a trip to Vegas at the end of the month and I am taking my travel day there alone there instead of pressuring someone (cough, Mike) to come with me. I have learned that while I thought I was more when I was part of a couple with B, I am a whole person just by myself and my whole person wants to do things.

I spent some time this afternoon playing with color washes and sponges and experimenting with water and how it impacts the color, trying to see how it all works.  I am so sad to report I am still not an expert however I did lose 2 hours in the process. I was able to shut my brain off and meditate a bit lost in aquamarine, magenta and forest.  I love the times that my brain turns off, the times when I just get lost and for me the only times that happens is when I'm writing or doing my new hobby, painting.  I think time when we can try things and fail are so important in realizing there is more this life than just work, there is more than socializing. 

What I've been learning the past few weeks is that I really do like who I am, I like who I'll become.  I'm not afraid to try new things, I'm not afraid to fail (my perfectionist is screaming), I'm not afraid of changing my mind.  All of these things lead to such adventure.

Hard Habit to Break

The hardest thing in a breakup is the habit.  The habit of knowing B's schedule inside out and knowing at 12:25 he'd be getting off work, or at 3:30 he'd pickup his daughter at HS or that at 5pm he'd be heading to the apartment to make dinner or go for a run. Knowing someone like that inside and out puts too many reminders on a clock.  I loved this man wholly and completely and I am moving beyond that but it's the habit of him that is harder to break. 

Friends and family are making fun of me right now for my overly packed schedule. My mom has tut-tutted at being busy every single night, but that's one way to break a habit, find new things to do.  With our relationship spanning 180 miles from Omaha to Overland Park, I spent far too many evenings talking to him via Skype and would just be at home.  Now I have hours to fill and an obligation to myself to find out what I like and what I want to be.  I was in a training class today and the instructor mentioned that our creativity peaks at 5.  It makes total sense to me, that's when a majority of us start school and are forced to stand into seating charts, coloring inside the lines and following a very regimented schedule, this follows us all the way through college and into our jobs.  But there is a creative side to me screaming to get out.

I know, not shocking to anyone who reads my work. I have the blog, poetry and have started a watercolor class.  I want to create things in this world that seems so destructive.  I want to put new things out there and see what I can do to make sense of the world around me, make sense of this betrayal and breakup.  So far all I have is that I had something to learn from him and that there is something much better coming.  That's how it's always been, whatever breaks my heart is replaced by something so much greater than I could ever have imagined.  Getting laid off from CSG led to consulting and my own LLC and another Master's degree.  My divorce led to some of the deepest and most meaningful friendships and love I've ever known.  With this latest heartbreak all I can do is turn it all over to God, the Universe, Buddha, whomever you believe is in charge of these things. I can only sit back, feel the feelings and trust so much more is coming.

So habits?  Usually right now B and I would be talking on my way home, so instead I wrote and am acknowledging that I miss him, I miss our habit.  And for today, that's enough-just acknowledging what I'm really feeling and breathing.

I tell stories therefore I am

I think that's who I am, I'm a story teller.  I was in KC yesterday to pick up my stuff from the Asshat.  I was surprised at how much some of the things he's put in the storage unit stung.  I held it together for a little while and then I didn’t. Thank goodness Mike was there, he is safe and with him I can just fall apart when I need to fall apart.  He also put a letter from me on B's door, although I kinda wish Mike would have been able to say what we talked about-"The least you can do is read this, you owe her at least that." He did take the note and put it on the door for me, I just hope he read it, but that's not up to me, that is up to the universe. 

Colette drove home so I could have some quiet time and figure out what I could do for myself.  So I did what I needed to take care of me, I spent time with the under 6 crowd and just took love from the little people. It was just what Aunt Lollie needed, that and a sleeping pill.  Waking up today it was a brand new day, it was a beautiful day and lots of things to be grateful for.

I took my first watercolor class tonight, what fun!  I need to slow down a bit and realize it's not a race.  Enjoy the moment and just paint! But when I was in Paris (on paper) I realized that I missed telling B the little stories of my day.  The great Emotional Intelligence session I taught, the funny thing that happened in the meeting, how much fun the paint class was and towing a car when I got home.  I miss having someone who really cared about all of the tiny details of my day. I miss hearing those same stories from someone else.  Ok, to be fair he wasn't nearly the best story teller and his industry makes me crazy making news out of nothing but I loved talking to him.

I started to wonder tonight, why do I put so much emphasis on wanting to share the stories, does sharing my stories somehow make me more real? I do see the irony of asking this in a self indulgent blog.  But still, if I don't share the stories do I exist? It occurred to me that for the first time in a very, very long time I am doing things just for me, not to share them but just for me (again I realize saying all of this in a blog is indulgent and violating what I said but whatever).

Michael

I remember meeting him in 1994, if the date is wrong, I know he will correct me.  We met at Blockbuster Video, my schedule was Saturdays from 9-5. I'd run the store and he'd sit in back watching Wimbledon.  We were friends against his will.  Mike is a bit of a loner, always has been but I forced my friendship on him.  And because I'm sneaky we fell in love. We were married only for 8 months, realizing that after dating for 2 years and being married that we were so much better as friends. 

It was tough breaking up, both of us dealing with our anger and hurt in different ways.  Once I stopped protecting him from my family and got angry we stopped speaking.  And yes, I sent back his Christmas card and signed it so he would know it was me sending it back.  But then, but then we ran into each other at Macaroni Grill and exchanged business cards and started talking.  We talked a lot, and cried some.  Ok, mostly I cried.  That was in 2003 and after a few years we found our way back to friends.

We tend not to count the years we didn’t speak and talk about our friendship as being 21 years strong now.  There are few people on the planet who know me as well as Mike, maybe one but he broke up with me three weeks ago.  Mike has been steadfast in his support of me.  We've grown up together.  Gone are the days when either of us would run or shy away from honesty or asking for help. 

Mike has seen me at my best, glowing with love, basking in B's love. He's seen me at my worst with mascara running and snot bubbles. He has stayed when I asked and held me as I cried, he's stepped back and away from me when I needed space.  He has learned me in the past 20 years and I hope I've learned him too.  He is probably the person I've leaned on the most in the past few weeks.  This is what true friendship is, this unconditional acceptance and occasional ass kicking from only someone who loves you in spite of yourself can give you.

No one in our lives understands our friendship, why after so many years and our total love and devotion we aren't together.  We know that the best thing for us is to stay friends and just love each other as we are.  Hold each other up and support each other as much as we can. I will love Mike until the day I die, I will be there no matter what, and eventually when we are old and gray I will make sure the cat doesn't eat his face when he dies in his easy chair from a stroke over his beloved Hawks.  And I know no matter how many times my heart gets broken, Mike will be there to hold me up and dry my tears and buy me vodka tonics.

All the loves in my life...

Breakups suck.  There's no other way around it. If you put yourself out there you stand a good chance of getting your heart trampled on.  It's part of what makes us human, the willingness to go after love time and time again.  I'm so far from the only person who's been through heartache that it's laughable.  If you haven't been through heartache either you are lying or you haven't put yourself out there and that's a whole other kind of heartbreak. 

There are two schools of thought after something like this, well truthfully there are as many schools of thought as there are people but, to me, two of the more popular ones are summarized by either Simon and Garfunkel or Tennyson.  Simon and Garfunkel declared it's best to be a rock, to be an island--and a rock feels no pain and an Island never cries.  Alfred Lord Tennyson said it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I tend to be more of the Tennyson camp, that it's worth the pain to have had this most human experience.  That being said, I do get the point of the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, sometimes it feels like just forgetting the whole thing seems easiest.

Just because the romantic love in my life is gone and B has moved on to another, I already know that  someday I will be grateful that I got to love him, and I got to be loved in return.  But love is bigger than just romance, and this is what the blog this week is really about, all the other sources of love in my life who have stepped in for me and who overwhelm me with the love and kindness and worry and plots of swift and blinding violence.

I have been reminded more than once in the past 2 weeks, and really with all the stuff since February that I am blessed to be surrounded by amazing, beautiful, courageous people who really do love me.  Some friends are new, and I'm excited at the chance to get to know new people, hear new stories.  Some friends are older and know the full history with B and are in this with me through thick and thin. They know how to support me, kick me in gear when I need it and will just let me sit and be quiet if that's what I need.  I have friends who grill me like I'm under indictment trying to help me figure out the mystery of why. I am surrounded at work by people who make sure that I've eaten recently and that I take a break or walk during the day.  I have friends whose knee jerk reaction is baseball bats, burying the body and an alibi.  I have friends who are coordinating the removal of my things from Kansas City and returning them home to me.  I have friends who have no idea what to do with me when I’m this sad so they steer clear. And that's ok too.  I don't know what to do with me when I'm like this, I’m not used to crying at the drop of a hat or at seeing a forgotten picture stuck in a drawer.   And that's the hard part, I don't know what will help. 

So I go back to gratitude.  I'm grateful that B waited until my depression was reigned back in before he dumped me, this could have been so much worse if he did this months ago.  However he is still an asshat who deserves whatever comes to him.  Mostly I'm grateful that I am surrounded by so many people who genuinely love me, who hurt as much as I do about this. People who want me to come through this stronger and to find the right guy, the one who deserves me.  I was hesitant to discuss any of this publicly. I can hear the voices in my head of various people in my life telling me that I'm being dramatic or that these things aren't discussed in public, but they aren't me.  They don't know what I now know for certain.  The best way that anyone can move forward is to tell the truth about what's going on.  This openness, this honesty, this freaking vulnerability is what makes us stronger. It's not pretending that we are invincible, it's proving that if you cut me, I will bleed. If you hurt me I will cry. If you leave me I will scar.

But these people I love hold me up, they make me strong.  Thank you for being there in any way you have been. If it's been a hug, a phone call, a text, a funny email, a posting or a like on my facebook, anything and everything makes this a bit more bearable.  This journey we are on together, it's going to be interesting. 

All Powerful

I have to start with how humbled I am by the outpouring of love and support I've gotten this week.  While yes, I do tend to share a lot of my life, the choice was made to keep our relationship off Facebook.  After the 2 years together, we weren't even Facebook friends.  (Bitter aside, I bet he's friends with Candi with a fucking "i".)

I have had the honor this week to actually feel the feels as my friend Amy says. I've been very angry and hurt. I've been sad and wounded and I've spent time with people who truly love me and know how to take care of me.  I will be honest, feeling the feelings fucking sucks.  I won't sugar coat it, and blah, blah, blah the universe has other plans. Whatever, there is someone out there better. Fine, I will be better off. But right now it sucks. 

I'm blessed to have people, near and far, who love me and are sending funny notes, meme's, texts and just hovering around making sure I'm eating and sleeping. I'm proud to say that I made it to work every day this week, relatively on time and unless you were friends with me on Facebook, no one knew anything was wrong.  That is a victory.  I'm taking the time I need, I'm working out and running and just telling the truth to anyone who asks.  If you ask how I am I will tell you. Special love to the counter girl at Ted and Wally's tonight.  She asked how  I was so I told her, kinda crappy, my boyfriend of 2 years dumped me on Monday.  That got me a hug and a free cone. Bless that girl!

That's what I'm staggered by, this idea of being vulnerable and telling the truth doesn't mean I'm pitied, it means I'm supported, people want to reach out.  And for that I'm grateful, and you should all be glad that I'm grateful because I learned today from my friend Monica that I am all powerful.

Monica and I had a great walk this morning, 6 miles out at Chalco on this beautiful sunny day. I knew that walking with Monica today would involve a heart to heart discussion because that's what we do on the trail, we solve the problems in our world.  I have had several realizations this week that Monica helped me to see clearly. One is that men I love leave me and blame me for it.  All parting shots that blame me for leaving, from my father to my ex husband to this asshat, all of them blame me as they are walking out the door.  And I take it on, I take it personally and do whatever I can to make them stay.  My dad and I have worked this out, my ex husband and I have worked all of this out and all I can do with asshat is to let him go. I wasn't solely to blame for his weakness and lack of personal responsibility. 

But then again, Monica pointed out that if I am taking all the responsibility for this and if I've done the things that I was accused of then I am all powerful in the universe because I stop men from having any power to make their own decisions and have their own lives.  These men in my life bend to my will.  Interesting. Be careful everyone, I apparently run it all. 

So a little drunk with power here and I decree that Tuesday is no pants day. From now on anti-aging products are to be considered medically necessary and most important Nathan Fillion is mine.  Nathan I will expect you in Omaha by Friday.

This week has been so hard and while constant rumination eventually won't help. I think I'll live in my head for a few more days at least.  

Remember, people who truly care about you will help if you need to fall apart for just a minute or hour or week.