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Catch Up, Before We Begin, Again

It has been so long since I have written here, so much has happened. There are parts of me that feel I am in the same place. Yet I am not. In less than two weeks I will be fifty…50?!

I am told this is a big birthday, I feel this is a big birthday- but I am not entirely sure what this means. Do I start playing bingo? Is this the time to be acquiring sweatshirts with cute cats on them? Do I become louder? More staunch in my opinions? Do I loose my sexuality? Do I get taken less seriously because of my age, too old to matter? Do I begin to wear obnoxiously bright clothing and large chunky jewelry? Do I start fighting the aging process with all the science at my disposal? Do I give in and let gravity melt me into a doughy Shar Pei version of myself?

Was I supposed to prepare more for this landmark moment in my life? I have made some changes in the last couple of years, not consciously because the five-oh was on the horizon, but because it felt natural and right.

I took a deep dive examination of self. Fifteen months of weekly therapy to try to figure out all the WTF in my life. Is everything all better, no more anxiety, no more chains of CPTSD? Do I know all now? No, if anything I have created a few more of those WTF questions, but what I have learned, has changed how I deal with them. I have a deeper understanding of myself. Better control, if you will, of the negative self protective mechanisms that I have built up since childhood. There has been some loss because of this, that will be touched on in other missives, the loss of a ‘best’ friend, other long time friends as well. New boundaries and the exploration (all be it nervously) of my own voice in real life, not just on the page.

I am more dedicated to healthier measures. A switch in physical goals, the primary no longer being weight loss, but maintaining/improving movement and strength. For the most part, eating healthier, but not restrictive or denying of foods. I need more work in this area, damn tasty chocolate and soft doughy carbs! There has been a massive shift in alcohol consumption, given my family history, I am surprised that my drinking never caused huge problems, but it was heavy and binged often. Now, once in a while a glass or two of wine, the occasional gin. Not the same as when I would look so forward to Friday and opening a bottle or two, thinking of an excuse to have wine during the week, ordering the next glass before I was finished the first, eagerly awaiting the dull fuzzy warmth that will follow with glass 2, 3 and 4….

Therapy taught me to sit with the feelings, good or bad. To seek out the origin, to be compassionate with myself and to not allow it to carry me away. This takes time, it is hard and doesn’t always feel successful. However, the after effects are far less troublesome than the headache and sour stomach of too much wine and blank spots where I am not sure what was said or done.

I posed naked last year for an art project- that too will be its own missive, I suppose it was my way of making peace with this body that has been through so much. To allow myself some grace that it is not perfect, it is lumpy, soft and dimpled. But it has produced 2 beautiful children and carried me on all the good adventures I have. It has brought me as much pleasure as it has pain. I have settled into (and truthfully looking forward to) the greying of my hair. I stopped colouring about 3 months ago. On the flip side I have added much more colour to my body, it has become a canvas for tattoos of symbols, spells and markers of who I was, am and aspire to be.

One of my tattoos has two quotes, “I must write to empty my head or I go mad” (Byron) and “I create therefore I live” (a variation of a Misha Collins/GISH statement). Ready or not this is my story. Fifty feels like it is the doorway, leaving something behind and stepping into something new. Shall we…….

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And who might you be?

One of my most favourite quotes is by Lord Byron, ‘I must write to empty my head or I shall surely go mad.’

There are millions of blogs out there. Why add another voice to the chorus? I like to write. Why should you follow mine? I hope you like to read. Do I have a theme? Not exactly, I think I have many. Am I doing this for fame? No, I am doing this to empty my very busy brain. A lifestyle blog? No, I don’t want to tell you how to live. A humour blog? I am hopeful that I will write more than just tragic tales and you’ll have a giggle or two. A learning blog? I am hopeful for a bit of that as well. I am very curious about the world around me and how I relate to it, and I do love to share what I have discovered. I also will randomly write poetry and fiction too. So I guess, really, if I were to pick a theme I’d have to say that I am inviting you on a sight seeing tour in my head. If I gain some readers than I am lucky and hopefully you will be touched, learned something and entertained.

I have long been putting some of my random thoughts on life, dealing with my anxiety disorder, (you’ll probably learn lots about that over time) and general silliness on Facebook and Instagram. I had a blog many years ago- I let it slip away. I decided to start again in part so I can move a majority of my writing to one place. So for some of who know me from those other forums, a few of these pieces may seem familiar, but trust I will have still more to say, new adventures and observations to report, so new things will be posted in various places.

I guess some of you may want a few actual details- I am 46 next week, I am a quick witted, a wee bit twisted, creative, generous, loving, strong human. I am a wife, mother, friend, teacher, massage therapist, pagan. There is my quick introduction. I guess the journey has begun.

The False Feeling of Healing

I woke from a nightmare 

Jaw firmly locked 

Screaming pain in my head 

There is no stability for me 

Therein lies the rub 

I tried 

I spoke 

………….

The nightmare resulted one regret 

Echoing through time 

You should have pulled the trigger 

When my sight went black 

You should have gripped a little longer 

Till the beat fully stopped 

Because survival has become my fools game 

‘Be what you need’

Empty accolades in the theatre of life 

Speak soft words of love, kindness, devotion 

While the deafening silence is all I’m tossed 

Criticism is all that’s pinned to my chest 

I don’t think I woke at all 

Rinse and repeat

This moment keeps repeating 

A loop 

The answer I claim not to know 

Sits low in the pit of my stomach 

Every time the moment loops 

The pit grows 

But 

What if? 

How many times can I ask myself this? 

The loop comes again 

Tonight I almost felt swallowed by it 

Sorrow weighs heavy 

I can talk myself out of anything 

Almost 

Until the moment loops again 

Sigh 

Moon Enlightenment

Watching Her through the window

I catch sight of my reflection 

My cheeks seem to sparkle 

The Moon’s gentle light, transforming the trails of my tears  

Melancholy Grief 

So much of myself lost 

Given and taken away 

The silver rivulets tracing cracks I’m trying to repair 

Trying to feel worthy 

I am not a throw away vessel to be used and emptied 

This was (is) my failure

Her light reflects on my face, the idea I am wearing her magic, the only love that will protect me 

Is my own 

Dream Lover

I stirred to you whispering my true name.
The resonance of your voice working its way through my body like warm honey
The name no one knows
The sacred
Melting my will
Do not let me leave this dream
I welcome you wholly
In this liminal space I feel
You
Inside
The taste of you
Driving my hunger
Burning from within
Hold me down here
I beg
The dawn is breaking
You fade like mist
Leaving me with a want
That may never be satisfied

Goodbye Moon

The Moon is full 

I’m trying to write your goodbye. 

I can’t. 

I can’t speak those definitive words 

How do I sum up the picture of you? 

How do I explain what you gave and now what is lost? 

I look to the Moon. She knows you too. 

She’s full, holding memories of time,

Laughter, tears, ridiculous philosophical conversations, spaces safe from the horrors and energetic adventures. 

I can’t write your goodbye 

It seems wrong, inaccurate  

How do I sum up the hole you’ve left me 

How do I explain all that will be missed? 

Maybe the Moon will tell you 

Cursed

You made my name into a curse 

May it burn bitter on your lips 

Each letter of my name 

leaving little slices in your throat 

Self inflicted poison 

festering in each wound 

Every time you utter my name in anger or harm 

It shall return to you swift, precise, marfach 

Remember in the dark of night 

You, made my name into a curse 

Turning Wheel

I remind myself to breathe 

Slowly 

Fully 

The Wheel will turn 

I close my eyes 

Remember 

I’ve been here before 

The dark of night 

The grumblings of the monsters 

Mixed with the steady chant of 

The warrior 

I try to grasp her hand 

It feels just out of reach 

I remind myself to breathe 

Slowly 

Fully 

The Wheel will turn 

Unbecoming

This morning I stood in the 

Cold 

Quiet 

Stillness 

I thought I felt

Peace 

I felt my heart 

Pounding 

The scream

Bubbled up from the depths 

All around me the neighbourhood dogs

Howled 

In communion 

The Gods trying to rip light 

Through the darkness I’m 

Stuck in 

This past year is reducing me to 

My most

Primal self 

Let her burn