Labels

I've been wondering about labels lately. Why do we feel a need to label things. "This is good." "This is bad." "This is right." "This is wrong." Our need to label events in our lives seems to be a need to gain some kind of control over them. Like a label gives us a handle to hang on to when things feel or seem crazy. A friend of mine has been very disappointing lately. She hasn't been in touch, or asked for support with some things that are challenging in her life. She hasn't been supportive or caring about what's going on in my life either. I've been wondering whether to call her, "my friend," now. I don't think of her as a friend anymore, and it appears she doesn't think of me as a friend either. It's so odd to lose a good friend for some unknown reason, with no "goodbye," or anything. I feel like I need to label our relationship, but I have no labels. I feel like I need to label the downfall of our friendship, but I have no labels for that either. It seems so odd! Wish I had the words to put with it all.

Wish I had the words to put with my pending divorce. Is it good? Is it bad? How do I relate it to my faith? What's God think of it? I never thought I'd be divorced. I've given other people advice to get one. I've never really judged anyone for getting a divorce, but here I am, realizing that I stayed in my marriage because it didn't seem bad enough to justify a divorce. I couldn't put a label on it that fit my criteria for a justifiable divorce. Even now, I'm certain that this is what we need to do for both of us to live a better life. I'm just not sure how to label it. Is it "good?" Is it "bad?" Does it need to be one or the other? Do I really need to label it?

I guess the big question for me is, "What does God think about all of this?" At times I think it's God who's leading us in this direction. But that seems so "wrong." It doesn't fit with my understanding of God. Maybe that's the problem, I'm trying to put a label on God, so I can have a handle to hold onto, make God managable, containable, controllable. Hmmm. I've been telling people for years not to try to do that. God isn't containable, controllable, managable. At the same time I have this great need to understand God's perspective on this divorce. I sit each day for at least an hour, trying to hear some words from God. God is silent. There are no words. There are no labels. No handle to carry this mountain of change.

To a Long Lost Friend

I miss you. I miss our daily "conversations," ...real and imagined when we couldn't be in touch. I miss hearing about your day and your children. I miss telling you about my day. You've left a big hole in my life and much as I ask God to fill it with God's spirit, the hole is still there, and it still hurts. I miss your touch, the affection we once shared. I miss the feeling of loving and being loved. This is a very lonely time for both of us. A friend of mine who was widowed said that the hardest part of being widowed was coming home to an empty house. No one to share the day with. Some other friends have said they miss being touched/hugged/loved. As I look around I see a lot of lonely people. Wish we could get together for a group hug, but it wouldn't be the same as being hugged by the one you love. Some people think that loving and being loved is minor in the big picture of life. They think romance is silly and inconsequential. Speaking as one who has not loved or been loved for a very long time, it is one of the most important things we do in life. Speaking as a person of faith who knows that God is all about love, it is the most important thing we do in life. I love you dear friend, and I miss you.

What do you do?

What do you do when you realize that all the things you thought you were doing right for 20 years, turn out to be wrong? What do you do then? How do you trust yourself? How do you move on with the uncertainty of making wrong choices and wrong actions for so long in your past?

I am not light! Gdit!

Can't figure out what to do with myself. I've posted blogs. I've read my morning dose of Eat Pray Love, (my bible for surviving divorce). I've sat outside on a beautiful day. I've checked my email a hundred times. Everyone I know's at church, and I am not. I have a very limited number of true friends who know that going to church on Sunday is the best thing they can do. I, on the other hand, have stayed away today. Too depressed. Isn't that the truth of depression. You're dying for human contact, and avoid it like the plague? Blogging is probably the total collection of truly depressed people who feel this conflict and need some kind of contact with the unknown outside world. The few other bloggers out there are trying to become famous writers, sadly hoping to be discovered for their brilliance. Sorry. Don't mean to disparage you for reading this. Call the angry writer, "simply depressed." it's no reflection on you. It's just who I am right now. That's it exactly. Depression is who I am right now. If I weren't depressed, I wouldn't be writing. I'm like that terrible novelist in whatever the heck the sequel to "Romancing the Stone," is called. She writes when she's depressed and lonely. When life is good, she's in love, and living a dream life, she can't write. That's me. I write when I'm depressed, or sad, or lonely. That's why I'm not really a writer. I'm a talker. When I'm not depressed, I'm with friends, nd loving every minute of the conversation. I guess when I'm depressed, the talker just goes underground.



I've hit a new low yesterday and today. Decided to read my therapist's sheet on self-affirmation which she kindly gave me as I ended our time by saying, "You've got to help me learn to love myself." It's always the parting shot that is the real reason for your visit. Therapists know this, and you know this, and still you play the game. It's when you've avoided the main pain for the 50 minutes and you realize that your time is up that you blurt out the truth of why you've come. "You've got to help me learn to love myself!" I throw up on the floor of her very nice office. And of course the time is up so the best she can do is give me a "self-affirmation," sheet. I've been unfair to her and to me. I know it and she knows it, and so she hands me a sheet of paper like the lifesavers my grandfather passed out to us kids. A sweet note of "I love you," wrapped in foil and paper. These sheets my therapist sometimes gives me are not worth much. I don't read them very often 'cause I know that what I really need is her presence, her insight, her caring. Today I'm desparate enough to dig out the self-affirmation from my pile of papers tucked inside my calendar. They're all like a pile of lifelines waiting patiently for when I need them. Today I need one. Yes, I need the self-affirmation paper. Open it up to find, "I am light." What the hell is that? "I'm not light," every inch of me screams! Gdit! I'm not light! And God is not soaking up all the darkness! I am the darkness and if God is fucking soaking up the darkness, then I'll simply not exist! At least the pain would stop, if I didn't exist. Should I go watch, "It's a Wonderful Life?" I haven't been that kind to that many people. One person might show up with a $1 bill.

The truth is, the real reason I'm depressed and the real reason I want this divorce, is because I want to exist. I want to more than exist. I want to be happy. I don't want to clean up the messes of my husband's existance any more! I can't even clean up my own messes! I just want to get through this pain to the "other side," where some very small part of me knows that there is a better life.

Too Many 8's

Okay, I admit it. I'm addicted to spider solitaire. It's a great game for keeping the numbness. I play these mind games with myself. "You should get up and fix dinner." "I'm busy. (as I keep moving cards on the screen.) "You would feel better if you got off your #$$ and rode your bike." "No, I think I'll stay here and finish this hundredth game." Spider solitaire isn't my usual game. When I'm sane, I play free cell, a couple of games and walk away. But I'm not sane right now. Spider is the perfect game for the insane. It doesn't depend on skill. It depends on the deal of the cards. When you win, you can say, " I won!" When you lose you can say," The deal was bad." Free cell isn't good for the insane. It takes skill and concentration. I'm all out of those right now. When you lose at free cell, it's because you didn't figure it out. It's your fault. When you lose at spider, it was the deal. I need something else I can blame right now. It passes the time, and there's that wonderful "Undo" button!" Don't we all want an "Undo" button for life! What would you undo? I don't mean the simple things like burning dinner last night. I mean the big stuff. What would you "Undo?" I'd undo at least 10 years of marriage. Well, maybe 9. I have a ten year old who I wouldn't trade for the world. Okay, so I'd undo 9 years of marriage. 9 years of trying to do the right thing, trying to help him feel good about himself, trying to help him find a career that fit him, trying to help him learn to keep his temper, trying to keep the house, the job, the kids all running smoothly while he started financial and emotional fires every few days. I would undo all that. I would go back and regain 9 years of hell and be younger when I start all over. It's not fun at 51 with 3 kids and a boat load of debt to start all over. That's basically the problem, why I'm stuck in this pain right now. There's no "undo" button. I can't take those years back. I can't not owe all those corporations money. I can't undo his rage and my resentment that has kept my kids from feeling good about themselves. I can't undo the damage or the good years thrown away, and there is no clear next move. You see I've been missing all the 8's. The cards kept piling up because I didn't have the 8's. I kept hitting the "deal" button, but no 8's. Now I've finally hit the "deal" and all the 8's came marching out from their hiding place. They posted themselves squarely on each pile, blocking all progress, and showing what I couldn't find before. Now, the cherished 8's are all there. I was looking for them the whole game and they hid. Now they're all out of hiding, and smothering me. There's no move. The "undo" button won't save me now. The game is over, and I have lost.

Checking Email or "Ode to CVS"

My friends all complain that they get too much email. I'm the opposite. I live for my email. It seems to be one of my lifelines right now. A confirmation that someone cares... a confirmation that there is life outside this miserable house... a confirmation that I'm loved, even if it's by CVS with a great deal on pictures. Actually that's not true. Each time I open that magical window of communicaton and see, "Receiving 1 of 1 messages," my heart skips a beat. "I am loved! Someone cares! I wonder who it is? I wonder what they have to say! I hope it's not work or CVS with a deal on picture printing." And then, proof of my aloneness... proof that I am not lovable... proof that I only exist to consume... proof of nothingness. "CVS Pharmacy...."

Divorce Camp for Kids

There should be a divorce camp for kids. Someplace where they can go and be loved, be happy, and prosper while their parents drown in the morass of depression. It's just not fair that they have to live in the same house as their parents who can barely face getting out of bed in the morning. Perhaps if there were some place like that, kids wouldn't commit seemingly random acts of self-destruction. If there were such a place, I'm sure the court would have my kids settled into their comfortable cabins with temporary parents who love them and care for them without slogging through the house. If there were such a place, my son would not be a walking bandage and my car would still exist. If there were such a place 3 other kids wouldn't be nursing scrapes and bruises from a night of "trying to be happy for a change." Oh the crimes we impose on our kids, just due to our existence. They don't deserve them. They don't deserve any of this. And yet, I can barely exist, let alone be any different.

Loving Ourselves

Been thinking about loving myself lately. It's a strange task. Most of us are able to, or not able to, based on our childhood. "Love yourself," my faith tradition says. "Love yourself," I say to others. I don't. It's become a strange realization that I just don't love myself. I mean to say that I think I do... with my head. Just don't feel it with the rest of me. It hit me like a rock on the head one day. A friend asked me, "You do believe you're lovable don't you? You believe that God loves you, don't you?" I've been chewing on those questions for weeks. I've realized that I don't really feel loved or not loved. I don't really feel like I love myself or I don't love myself. I am truly a product of my English/Scottish ancestry. I believe in myself. I have confidence in myself, (much of the time) based on earning respect. It's not supposed to be that way, I know. I can't earn my love or God's love. It just has to be. How do you work on that? To work on it means, I'm back to earning it!

superman

superman won't move out. hasn't done a thing for anyone in 20 years and suddenly becomes super father...now that superwoman has told him to leave. helping children with homework, shopping, cooking, super caring, super giving. perhaps he'll wear himself out soon. I can hope. I can pray his hateful heart shows itself.

Where's God

Okay, so I've had this faith tradition with a whole lot of beliefs. In fact I promote those beliefs most of the time. The fact is, I believe God is loving and sometimes talks to people. For me God has always talked through other humans. I'll be looking for an answer to one of my millions of questions and someone will say a random thought that answers that question. The problem is, the answers I get are usually related to my work, not my personal life. What's up with that? Been trying out this meditational prayer stuff off and on for years. I may be the most impatient person on earth, or I'm just not getting anything from it. "Be still. Listen. " they say. Not hearing anything. Not even a nudge in any direction. Why does this work for millions and not for me? Is it just personality? Does God work in our lives according to how God made us? Aren't we supposed to seek balance by doing things that don't come naturally? Okay, so I'll keep trying... for awhile.

Men

Why are most men my age so fat? What's with the big guts? Do they honestly want sex, or do they just want to talk about wanting sex. No wonder most women have lost interest in their husbands! Men date and look good. Get married and put on 50 pounds. What are the thinking?

The pain

We all just want the pain to stop. Sometimes we take positive steps to end it. Sometimes we just cause more pain.

It's time to remember that it's okay to seek happiness and success. It's time to remember we're lovable. Well, most of us, anyway. Okay, all of us, even if God is the only one who can.