Maybe Some Healing?

Life has been a little tough on me the last year. I carry a lot of sadness and grief over what I have lost. I carry anger and rage at what was taken from me. I carry bitterness and hatred over what I was shown. I seem just be getting to the point that I can really pick myself up and move forward. I was basically destroyed about a year ago, but not completely. I lost touch with who I was for awhile, and may have a hard time getting back to that place of complete joy and confidence that I once resided in. I see now that I was still there all the time, to a degree - who I am was still tucked away, waiting to reemerge. Now how to allow that is the question. How to make a safe space for that part of me that was obliterated - that now resembles a 1000-piece puzzle - to come out and start slowly be drawn back together, the way thousands of tiny cells slowly move to merge together. So here I am, attempting to move forward, trying to make sense of what happened and why it occurred and what the hell I'm supposed to do with it now. Sometimes it seems that the best and only solution is for life to end. (Either mine or the fat bastard's). Sometimes I wish for an accident to occur that would save me the trouble - but then sometimes I think ' I could do it this way, this will be easy!' Slipping out of consciousness and physical existence sounds like deliverance... it sounds so reasonable and I come to that conclusion so calmly. No desperation, just a quiet assurance of 'Yeah...that sounds really nice' and seems a definite improvement over the powerlessness I feel to sort this out and bring about any justice. I've been pondering lately what is worth sticking around for and have come up with a few things that, sure enough, are pretty well worth it. It's still difficult - I still just want to give up sometimes - but I'm hoping that I can find some answers in consulting with a professional. Maybe it won't take too much to get back up, alive and kicking. Thing is, I know that there is good in the world, I *know* that, but it's just difficult to see when my vision is so clouded with pain and tears and anger and by images of a manipulative, big, evil son of a bitch.

Getting Real.

So, noone's following this blog yet, so I don't feel obligated to live up to any expectations anyone may have for me. This is the place for me to be really me - so if you're reading this it's probably because you'd like to truly know me, and if you're not, then it truly is just *my* blog, with noone to judge it. At any rate, I am really tired of having to censor myself with certain people for fear that they'll judge me. That's not the way I want to live; people will just have to suck it up and realize I'm not the person that I used to be or that they'd always hoped or expected I would be. I admit I feel a little angry and defensive; noone has the right to decide how I should live my life. I really feel the need to explain everything about myself to everyone. It's pretty pathetic really. I'm not going to live that way anymore. I'm just going to record how I feel about things in the way that I would if noone were going to judge me. This is the only way I'll ever truly be able to claim my self. So these are the things that I am really brimming about but can't seem to tell anyone; but no longer!
I've quit going to church, and have never been happier in my life! I'll admit it was difficult at first, and still is sometimes, because I miss that feeling of belonging - the feeling of friendship that I felt there. But I felt it was necessary for my personal development. I needed to get out and see the world with new eyes. It confirmed my long-time belief that there was more joy out there than I could have ever experienced in the closed environment the church lent me to. If I had stayed in the church and stuck to the beliefs that members should never date anyone outside the church (unless they plan on converting them) I would have missed out on the chance of a lifetime to find true love. People may scoff when they read this, but it's true. There's nothing more I could want. It's real, genuine, and amazing. I can't thank my lucky stars enough that I didn't let religion get in the way of something so truly *awe*some. It seemed so trivial to say "Well if you don't accept this crap for truth because I want you to, then I can't be with you" and by that time I was really thinking it was crap - he really came along at the opportune time. It was as good a time as any to leave, and with an amazing outcome. As it is, I feel fulfilled as a person, and my love life is brimming with tenderness and caring. I am so impressed that he is so understanding and loving, and most importantly, not controlling.
I have to say that from the time I was about 17 I was SO dreading marrying a Mormon man...I was trying so hard to talk myself into how it would work with this one guy I was planning on marrying, who wanted to marry me, but it could never work out no matter which angle I took on it. As far as I could tell he was wanting to follow the (for the most part) typical mormon lifestyle and timeline. He was going to get back from his mission and marry me before I was 20, then we'd immediately have children, even before his career was stabilized. So the way I could see this going was that we'd have two or three children before I was even 22, and of course I'd have to stay at home from the time we had our first, never getting out to develop my own career or further my education...so we'd be living on one income, and most likely a poor one, while he struggled to get through college and onto a better-paying job. This reminded me tooooo much of the path my parents took and I was not looking forward to a life of poverty, or just getting by, at best. Also, I could see things going that we would supposedly be on equal planes, but that he would have the last say in matters of the family, etc. as he would be the "head of the household" and that just did not appeal to me. But I couldn't tell him these things, because then I would probably not fit the bill of a good mormon wife. So I did the best thing for everyone and got out. I found an amazing non-mormon man who loves me better than I could ever hope for, and who treats me so entirely as his equal. Life is so, so good.

Problem and Solution.

I have a real problem with people lately. It's like I always had a rosy outlook on people all through my childhood and early teens and now I'm realizing just how awfully rank people can really be. It bugs the heck outta me how freakin' RUDE some people can be. It's like someone never taught them the basics of being a decent human being. I think this is especially true in Yosemite. The majority of people I know, and especially managers, have this air of complete arrogance that drives me up the wall. Now, it's said that one generally dislikes the qualities in others that oneself actually possesses. I can see how that is true. I very much dislike one particular person who I consider a spoiled brat...mostly because the person reminds me of myself; I would add "at that age" but at times I wonder if I have ever truly moved on from that "phase." Realistically, the answer is yes, in many ways I have, but in others I really do still have to wonder. Which brings me back to my original point. Maybe this insufferable arrogance that I despise so much in the people around me is actually a reflection of myself. Somehow it fits. I admit that I do feel a sense of superiority to a few types of people. I reprimand myself often and make attempts to change, but in the meantime, this is part of my reality. I would like to think that I am about average in this area, that I am just a normal person of admirable character, but the truth is, I can be a downright shitty person in my ruthless judgments and thoughts of people. This is what I consider being jaded. Part of it is preconceived notions about how people should be, and notions of how they are, and part of it is by personal experience up-close and personal with some disgusting beings I hesitate to call people. Now this is the extreme end of the spectrum, but it has taught me a lot about human nature in general, and perhaps made me even harder than is warranted on the rest of the species. Because of this I make judgment calls that are perhaps less than rational and *definitely* less than compassionate. But I do have compassion...I have compassion for those who are genuine, truly authentic, down-to-earth individuals. I have no patience or love for people who are dishonest and/or pretentious.
( N.B. (Stands for Note Well, "Nota Bene" in Latin) I'm sick of saying I'm going to work on that. As far as I'm concerned it goes without saying that I'm going to work on it. If I'm talking about my flaws then it means I am aware of them. I don't generally wallow and wade in my lack of mastery over a certain area in my life...I just get rid of it.) I read an amazing book* one time though, that suggests that one of the keys to happiness is compassion for all people, based on the idea that they are no different from myself, seeking the very same things I am. Along the same lines, a wiser one than me once suggested that I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and not allow any negative bias to enter my ideas about a given person. Consequently, I am of the opinion that this will lead me to feel a sense of harmony and empathy for others. I suppose that means that I ought to have compassion for every person that I could possibly have bitter feelings toward who is or ever has been on earth. Needless to say, this will be a tough one.

*The book is called "The Art of Happiness" by the Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler with an emphasis on the thoughts and practices of the Dalai Lama himself.

Moved in!

So Jamie and I have moved into a new apartment. It's a very nice space, all to ourselves except for the family upstairs. What's more, I don't have to constantly worry about being kicked out.
See, we've been living together for something like 6 months out of the last year. Jamie had an apartment up in the park itself, but since it was employment housing and I'm merely a contractor for the company, I couldn't officially be his roommate. However, when he didn't have roommate I could stay there, under the radar. So I stayed for about 3 months before they made him get a roommate, and I had to go back to my place (which I'd kept). He had the roommate for about 3 months, then that one left, so then I was able to again move in with him. This lasted about another three months and then it was getting down to the wire for him to get another roommate. Since we so wanted to stay together we just up and moved into a new place. It is really a nice setup, and such a load off my mind! We're in Midpines, closer to his family, and best of all out of the park!! It was unbelievably stifling to live in the park itself...so many people crammed into one small space. But now we're out. We are going to be able to live here for six months. We're hoping by then we'll have moved out to a new place with a new job for Jamie. He's currently trying to get into the California Highway Patrol, but may not make it. They have some pretty strict protocol. So we're checking into different departments over the state. Either way, we'll be outta here before summer really kicks in. I can't wait! It'll be so good to be near a real city again. It'll most likely be easier for me to find more steady work as a massage therapist at a spa, or even a chiropractor's office. The more steady income will DEFINITELY beat out the higher wages here.

Knitting Away.

Something that has frustrated me over the years is the lack of opportunities for me to volunteer individually to help out various causes. I have finally found something that I can do, by myself. I am currently knitting an afghan to donate to a nursing home with patients in need of warmth and kindness. I began a couple of days ago and am finding the task a little daunting. It's funny, I have a commonality with my brother and sister, and its cropped up in both of their blogs too. We all have a problem with perfectionism. Needless to say, in knitting this afghan, it's cropped up numerous times and I keep fretting over how it's coming along. It's going to be about 6'x6' and since it's the first afghan I will have knitted, there will be many mistakes. I've mostly come to terms with this fact and decided that it will be fine no matter how it turns out, as long as it stays in one piece and is uniform for the most part. Now, it looks really good so far, but I find myself fretting over whether it's too tight, or whether all the stitches look good, or whether I've picked up a stitch or not. These things will be somewhat trivial when the finished product comes around, but I keep thinking it really matters. Then I realized that most peoples' eyesight has diminished by the time they're in a nursing home, so maybe they won't even notice! That made me feel a lot better.

To Begin...

I am someone who is deathly afraid of not being taken seriously, of not being heard because I sound insincere or trite. This is the reason I don't usually share what I'm thinking. I also don't share my thoughts because they seem to contradict themselves quite a bit. I believe this is because I'm still figuring things out...something I'll be doing for a very very long time to come.

I've done a lot of growing up the past couple of years, and realized a lot of things. Life has jaded me quite a bit, and I'm better for it, but maybe also bitter. I feel too young to be bitter, but at the same time, it fits. I'll move out of it though. I always do. There's always more.
I've changed in a lot of ways, in that I don't go so much for appearances anymore or try to keep up pretense. I've realized that there are some things that just don't matter anymore. There are some things, though, that matter a lot. My family is one of them. Jamie is another. Then there's
learning and literacy. These two things are my major pursuits in life. The two differ in that learning is taking in information, literacy is retaining and using it. These are my passions. The way I access them is through books, one of my great loves in life. I discontinued taking university courses because they didn't suit my learning style. Now I am pursuing a degree by learning at home by myself with my books, until I learn the material to the point that I can test out of it. I've always loved reading and taking tests, so this is the perfect way for me to get where I want to be! It will take some time...but less money in the long run really.

Another one of my passions is language. I'm currently learning Latin, which, purportedly, is a good language to start with because all of the Romantic languages spring from it. The next language I would like to learn is Italian, then Spanish. I have a whole long list of languages to learn. My desire is to learn the primary language of every country I plan to visit. I think this desire sprang from living in Yosemite. See, many people come here from all over the world, and everyone that I've encountered knows at least a little English, but the majority of people are fluent. This impressed me a great deal, seeing that if I went to a Spanish-speaking country, I may be able to get by, but barely. In any other country(except England), I'd be absolutely, hopelessly uncomprehending and inarticulate. The fact that almost every other major country in the world takes time to learn English and teach their children spoke volumes to me and made me realize that I should pay exactly the same tribute to these other peoples and their languages. So thus was born the resolve to learn the language of every country I ever plan to visit...which is, naturally, all of them lol. Not quite, but pretty much. I'd like to visit at least every continent but ideally MANY countries within. This is because people fascinate me beyond words. Well, I'm a little disenchanted with Caucasian Americans as a whole, but that's probably because I've been around so many for so long, and as far as I can tell, most are pretty predictable. The culture seems somewhat static from place to place. This may also be true of other countries and peoples, but I want to experience them first-hand just to be sure. Another thing, accents have endless appeal to me. A person is automatically more interesting to me (shallow though it may be) if they have a British, Irish, Australian or Scottish accent, not to mention German. I think accents of this nature are sooo catching. I have the dream of someday aquiring an Irish accent. I plan to live a year or two in Ireland at some point, essentially just for this purpose. But, then again, my plans for travel are endless. I just hope there's enough life for me to do it all in.