Month: November 2021

“There’s no space or time for me – conscripted to a life of struggling.

How am I to uncover and reveal my talents with the jackals constantly nipping?

Storms blow apart cobbled shelters, and I am driven from society without reason.

Humans need something to hate – and because I’m different, they target me.”

Somewhere in her heart’s beat and inner ear, she could hear the sweetest rhythm and melodies – lost in translation as they filtered through her broken channels.

The talented band leader/musician renowned for discovering and elevating new talents to stardom cringed whenever he heard her off-kilter tonality, and discounted her creativity.

He did not realize nor think to dig beyond encased marble to discover that she was imbued with wild magic’s ingenuity.

He soon avoided her questions, countering them with deflections, as he focused upon his own conquests because his marriage was failing.

When she begged for guidance, he outright rejected her – believing she had no talents, whatsover, after the most brief assessments.

He was not attuned to seeking outside the realm of his own understanding.

Once a fragile creative, himself, he’d learned to become commanding.

Had he known about psychology, and how trauma suppresses and distorts emergence…

Had he decided to let the great love that poured freely from him to others fill the little girl to brimming beyond her vessel’s holding…

He would have discovered the miracle he’d searched for of love’s unending expansion – and his granddaughter would have carried on his legacy.

I have no idea how I will be able to have a good relationship again.

I say again, because on my end, I think I had a lot of positive going for me.

I contributed well and likely beyond usual requirements to ensure growth and positivity could flourish.

My partners ended up draining me, pulling themselves out of the water of life and just watching me tread water doing the work, while they sat on their shelving.

I don’t know how to find someone who will invest like me.

And honestly, I’m frightened of the commitment because I imagine it will at first make me feel quite disoriented.

How does one keep being themselves in a good partnership?

When can one relax and know the other won’t find excuse or reason to leave?

How do I find and identify an available man of excellent character and integrity?

I need someone who’s willing and able to give and receive beyond my dreams.

I say this because the ideal concept promises a better matching for mutual collaboration.

How does one gain cooperation from another person so that they are equally contributing?

I look back at past behaviors I worked on when I had personal failures, and I haven’t met someone willing to mirror me.

I’m not speaking of codependency, but of endurance and tenacity no matter the challenges.

I crave to have a deeply bonded love that is vital and dynamic.

I want someone who will recognize when the facade I am presenting is a survival mechanism – and to pull me out of such reveries.

I desire to have someone who wants to play and enjoys reciprocity.

It’s been said that if you name what you want, you will receive.

But, how can I be sure I’ve found what I’ll need?

Of course, all of this is just hypothesis.

I still remain isolated as I’m reemerging.

By default, this has become my normal state of being.

And, I kind of like it – because I like me.

Me is fragile…I don’t want to lose her.

I must curb how I repond to internal alarms begging for reactivity, rather than response.

It took more effort than I could ever give – but kept struggling to produce – when I lived on the mountain.

Then, my consciousness was blown wide open as I expanded beyond capacitkes to seek solutions.

When answers are not in reality, one is forced to travel other dimensions for innovation.

However, I am on “solid’ ground here.

No matter how my stability muscles still shake and ache from the moving and timespent scrabbling on the mountain, I can adjust.

I must believe in myself and streamline to mesh with my potential.

Being responsible for my parents’ satisfaction was a goal I could never achieve.

They are by nature easily dissatisfied, and I did not have the support nor power to fulfill their needs.

Plus, they are very powerful, so their “depending” on me while being completely capable plied at my boundaries, when I was already bending to be overly flexible.

From their point of view, they were frustrated because I could not fulfill their ideals of “simple” needs.

They had the money and resources.

They had the partnership and it was their property.

Every step I’d try to take on their behalf, they’d interfere with by vying for control, attempting to puppet my strings.

Oh! How they’d sigh in reminiscence for the previous lady catetakers’ competence!

Well, yeah – they gave her the authority and autonomy necessary for her to succeed.

They never fully trusted me, which imposed a constant sense I was trespassing as a burden, and just a “child in need.”

It was conveyed by their language, in talking-down-to-me tones, and by projected undercurrents of their own past wounding.

I was responsible for their feeling safe, secure, and healing – but they kept hamstringing my abilities to provide this.

I was placed in a situation where my energy was constantly drained without replenishment, leaving me the target of negative criticism.

What makes me thrive was absent. Nonexistent.

I had to keep recreating mere remnants of it, while the circumstances kept making me bleed.

Being away from all of that now leaves an ache that feels hollow.

A person gets used to the weight of chains: they feel like “home” in the absence of genuine affection.

Yet, now that I am breaking free and working on getting back for final cleanup, it is amazing to just focus on my own family.

My youngest and I put in a lot of growth together there – individually and regarding our relationship.

We still have the occasional squabble, but for the most part, we are getting our routines calibrated.

I am finding it helps that I no longer have my parents’ expectations crushing me.

I saw the baby quilt – a rare, classic find: double layered and beautiful beyond mere tradition.

I had purchased it for our future – for the dream of having more children.

My puppy eats everything. It’s just the stage she is in.

A few minutes ago, myself shivering from a window left open, I turned on the heater after closing out the night’s damp chill.

Our pup was in her crate, stoically and bravely also shivering.

I looked around for a blanket less harmful to her if it is chewed and devoured.

I couldn’t find anything suitable – and then I found the quilt.

I brought her out of her crate and snuggled her in front of the heater for a moment, then took it from its shelf and laid it down for her with the tiny tassle tie-offs folded inward.

(She’ll become enamored of them, in the morning.)

She looked at it and immediately went in to stand on it, recognizing it as a gift.

Then, after thinking for a moment, she lay down and curled on top of it.

I just now heard from her a sigh of contentment.

If she destroys it – for this evening – it’ll be worth it.

I have decided to no longer worry about my weight as of this moment.

This decision has been building as I’ve watched my adrenals take a beating and life challenges just don’t diminish.

I don’t overeat, but the thyroid cortisol response thickens me as a type of buffer against brutal reality.

So, rather than continuing to feed into this stress cycle, I must no longer worry about it.

It’s like the situation with my clothing.

I cannot afford more, or to diversify, so I must no longer desire to.

Sometimes, I will go briefly down the isle of a thrift store, looking for quality weave, and wonder what lifestyle I’d be living to support such a theme.

The cool part is that if I let my identity dissolve even further, then eventually, I could ease into just about any fashion statement I could imagine.

But, we live in a small apartment with little storage space.

My work uniform is the same everyday – and I like it. It serves its purpose and does not complicate.

I noticed earlier today that on the shelving above the fridge, to the side and behind the on top microwave that’s hard hard to reach, I have backstocked my basic favorite liquids..

On the left side are my mango juice and unsweetened rice milk containers.

On the right are a month’s worth (or more if I portion it) of rosemary water.

Am I officially a bachelorette to know the few simple things I like and stick to them?

Yes, I drink straight out of my refrigerated juice jar.

I lightly scoff a bit at other people’s complicated life styles: the elaborate meals they’ll make and fuss over, for example.

I haven’t had the illusion of that kind of food security for longer than I can rememeber.

I am in awe that people feel safe enough to invest in it.

Some guys like to know you have your sh** together, yet are just as turned on, if you don’t.

More so – actually – because it makes them feel superior if you are not stronger than the persona they own.

In the quest to find balance in a relationship, this goal can become one-sided.

One person may feel they need to stop growing to keep the other satisfied.

And even if they were told this is what was wanted, they become vilified.

For, ironically, the more dominant will seek a more assertive replacement for the diminutive.

There seems to be no winning once one gives away their power.

I cannot tell you how much I have fought, seemingly in vain, to get the doors inside my subconscious to open.

That old negative messaging, though I’ve been cognizant, just refused to budge no matter my shoving at it.

But, just now as I was opening boxes, I felt a shift in some of the dialog.

When the old messaging played, I was able to answer with a different response.

I again tested the boundary – and it yielded for me!

Its thickness seems to be at last thinning – I could fall upon my knees and weep with relief.

I used to think that the subtle approach was best.

Then, perhaps, I would avoid stepping on toes, and people wouldn’t see me as a threat.

But, I’ve found that no matter my good efforts nor intentions that people will slap you down if that is their tendency – and they want to.

So, avoiding and bending for them is not necessarily a recipe for success.

And, since they seem to notice, judge, and affect me no matter what I do, I might as well assert my own point of view!

I often lament I do not have more of it.

I have alot – but it is fine, like spider silk.

Maybe this is Arachne’s way of getting back at one of Athena’s namesakes.

A “paying it forward,” if you will.

My youngest tells me thicker hair is too hot.

As I let mine get longer, I can feel it is certainly heavier.

I must accept that mine is a unique beauty – and no longer desire what can’t be bought.