Archive for August, 2008

The Blog That’s Informative

{ August 31, 2008 @ 3:55 pm } · { PG }
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I just finished a slow and tedious process which I began a few weeks back after transferring all of my blogs from Blogger and Myspace to here. On the other sites, the blogs were posted without titles. This one requires a title for it to be viewable in the archives. So…I had to go through about 70 posts, re-read them, categorize, and title them.

SO not fun. Luckily, the job is done and posts dating over two years back are now open for reading. I also did something else as I went through the posts of days past…

Reading through the thoughts of myself in years past is a pretty cool eye opener. It’s awesome to look back at what I was thinking and going through and note the difference between now and then. I’m left incredibly thankful that God has done a wonder and taken away my most deep insecurity and fear. There is so much growing up documented in those blogs. At first I felt a bit bummed and embarrassed over some of the nonsense written there. Those feelings didn’t hang around for too long as I realized that I don’t have to see it as a transgression – rather a picture of what WAS. It’s not who I am…merely how I got here.

I also turned over a dozen blogs to private. There are some pieces of the past which are ok to leave in the past. They need not be viewed by the general public.

The Blog With Lyrics To Hold On (to)

{ August 29, 2008 @ 11:08 am } · { Legitimate Insight, Poet, Quoting the Brilliant }
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“Hold On” – Magnet

These days I don’t see you walk to proud
These days I don’t hear you talk so loud
When you thought you’d soaked up all of the blows
You realized you were not even close

& it feels like it’s tearing you up
Feels like its wearing you down

You’ll get through this if you hang on
Cause the truth is you’re not alone
You’ll get through this if you hang on
The truth is you’re not alone
You’re not on your own

I see your face on every corner of every street
You spend you days just waiting for your next defeat
But I can only tell you what I know
And all I know is that I just don’t know

& it feels like it’s tearing me up
Feels like it’s wearing me down

I’ll get through this if I hold on
Cause the truth is I’m not alone
I’ll get through this if I hang on
The truth is I’m not alone
I’m not on my own
& you are not alone
It’s just hard sometimes to carry on
No I’m not on my own
& you are not alone
It’s just hard sometimes, so hard sometimes
But we got to hold on

The Blog About Seasons

{ August 26, 2008 @ 10:22 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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I realized this evening that I left out part of what I had planned on writing earlier this afternoon. Well, planned on is probably a bit misleading. I had a tangent of thought which was heading in another direction but got sideswiped by another rogue tangent which came out on top. So…here we are now.

In thinking about my relationships, I feel like I need to adjust a statement I made in a previous blog. I mentioned having only one real regret which I would go back and change if I could. Then today, I mentioned the expression of love which I learned last summer, and left out the other aspects which I’ve learned along the way. This, among other things, led me to remember what a good friend of mine told me a few years back. She said that she didn’t believe that there was really only ONE person for someone to be with in their lifetime. I was aghast, but she went on to explain what she meant. She expressing an idea that there are different people for different seasons in our lives. As far as marriage goes, yes, we both believe there should only be one. But along the way, the idea that any relationship prior to “The One” doesn’t have to be classified as a mistake, or the “wrong” one. They were the right ones – for that time.

There have been many seasons in my life, and a handful or less characters of mention to go along with them. Looking back chronologically, there was one which taught me how to have a ‘normal’ relationship, there was the longest relationship wherein I learned a lot about myself and life. The one I loved enough to marry taught me that I was capable of such love – something I had previously thought impossible. Even the bad memories attached can’t overshadow the good of that relationship. Last summer, I learned what love with restraint looked like, and what affection through affirmation rather than lust could be like. That led me to the most recent chapter…

And I realized that I can’t shove it off in the regret column. There are some of my most painful memories within that time…but there are also some incredible memories and lessons as well. I look back with mixed emotion, and it can fall to either end of the spectrum depending on the day…but all that is being muted to a more manageable reflection.

The ones who I have shared my life with along the way have taught me much. They may not have been “the one”, but they were indeed the ones for the season. Three are married now, one’s spoken for, and the other…well, it’s anyone’s guess. I am thankful they chose to share a portion of their lives with me.

The Blog About Change

{ August 26, 2008 @ 5:14 pm } · { G, Legitimate Insight }
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Anyone who has been following for the last year or so knows that there have been a significant amount of changes in the life of yours truly, especially within the last few months. I look back, as I previously stated, and squirm at many of the things I said and did in response to those around me. As I said to my counselor yesterday, I was living in a state of “reaction”, rather than “interaction”. Sounds a trifle corny, but it’s the best word choice I could come up with in the moment. What I meant was that I had been perpetually on guard and defensive, so anything anyone said or did around me was reacted to in a far more angst ridden, dramatic, and ridiculous manner than it would have been normally. Instead of relaxing and focusing on relating to people when and as the interaction happened, I would instantly wall up and shut down at the slightest provocation. There were maybe one or two who managed to avoid this fate with me. The main one in question was physically only around for five or six months, so you can gather how many people in my life I was an ass to.

As I said in the opening, though, a lot has changed. By no means are all my problems solved and my relating to people perfect…but the core of unrest which I lived with has found its self stilled. I always felt this inner turmoil and writhing with myself – a constant battle between my head, heart, past, present, and a general lack of peace about who I was and what I was capable of. It makes sense to me now why that was.

I’ve been seeing a counselor for the past five or six months. I originally started seeing her every-other-week, then we moved to a weekly session as circumstances I found myself in escalated considerably. Yesterday’s session was pretty cool for a couple reasons. First off, we bounced some ideas back and forth about The Shack, as it was her who assigned the reading. If you haven’t gathered the unwritten recommendation, I’ll outright strongly recommend reading this book. It’s by William P. Young, and it’s a bit out there in some areas, but if you just let yourself go with it and follow where it leads…you won’t be disappointed. Anyway. We talked about the book and came to some awesome conclusions – none of which would make sense to anyone who hasn’t read it, so I won’t bother attempting to relate them to an unfamiliar crowd.

The rest of our conversation was pretty much me telling her about my previous week and everything that had happened since we last met. It is strange to think that it was only a week, as the amount that took place (to no one but myself, granted) is huge. Part of what I told her was the conclusion I alluded to earlier. The concept of being “still” on the the inside; finding rest and peace within yourself, about yourself, and in whatever you choose to place your faith in. I’ve spent ages at war with myself and anyone who’s been close to me knows this. The beautiful part of last week was that the war reached an end. The turmoil stilled. See, you can’t build a person or a life on a shaky foundation. When you don’t place your faith and identity in something solid, you are bound to falter. In my case, accepting – not just being told and saying “yeah, yeah” – but really accepting God for who he is and what he says about me…completely liberating. That void which has a thousand cliche’s attached to it, is a legitimate void which indeed needs filling. Most women try to fill it with Guys, or materialistic possessions. Men usually try to fill it with work, sex, or wealth. All these are placebos. They do the job for a season, but they can’t sustain you through the worst life has to offer. Only One can.

I’m trying to veer away from preaching, as that is hardly my intention, so we’ll move on to where the above realization has left me: stable. Not searching for something or someone to validate or complete me. No, I’m not perfect. There are things I would change about myself, certainly. But none of that matters. In the past, I’ve felt like a sixteen year old pretending to be 23. At 24, for really the first time, I actually feel my age. And it’s kinda awesome. I ran into one of the amazing guys I spent time with last year on Sunday…and didn’t have some odd emotional reaction when I had to rain check on the offer of coffee just to maintain the integrity of my “No guys” till September agreement. May sound like something silly, but that’s kinda huge considering who it was.

The great thing about the new mindset is that when it comes to guys, I’m not in a hurry. Last week was filled with (not so) random tangents of thought which went back to the various men in my life and their definition of “love”. Any guy I’ve gone out with has had their unique way of caring about me. Some encourage, others affirm what they see, some are gift givers, others are more physical, or talkative, or whatever. That’s not what I’m referring to. It’s not just the action, it’s the heart behind it. What kept coming to mind was a brief time in my life last year. One who loved, not in the romantic sense (though yes, there was an element of that), but in the way God originally intended. He showed restraint when it came to being around me. He never demanded, or objectified, or was overly this or that. And in the end, he loved enough to let me go. At that time at least, it wasn’t the right time. Really, it wouldn’t have been the right time for ANYONE and me back then. See, on several levels, I NEEDED him. What frustrated me and left me confused was that he didn’t NEED anything. I could enhance his life, sure, but he wasn’t searching for something to complete him. He already knew who he was, and who God made him to be. I didn’t know how to deal with someone that self sufficient.

Now I get it.

It’s awesome to be able to enjoy people without somehow demanding from them. It takes the strain off of relationships when you both know who you are and can enjoy the other for who THEY are, not what they have to offer. That whole love thing, the way it was intended…I get it. I don’t have it, it the human sense, but I have a better picture of what it looks like. If the guy from last summer was brought along for nothing more than to demonstrate this, then for that I am thankful. Whatever God’s plan is for that side of my life, I’m ok with. He knows best. His timing is perfect. Even when we don’t understand it or think He’s ignoring or abandoning us – He’s still God.

Change can be unsettling. It is certainly a process, as I have to retrain myself to think a different way and stop basing my sense of Alright by the actions of other people. The coming months will be bringing plenty of changes, to be sure. Some of them quite welcome. Some are a bit frightening. Others simply hurt. My counselor put me back to every-other-week as a result of our last meeting. It makes me smile. I think I’m getting one or two things right.


The Blog That’s Hardly Profound

{ August 24, 2008 @ 12:24 am } · { PG }
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It’s getting pretty close to midnight, and certainly I should be sleeping. I got home a little bit ago after spending the evening with the family. That’s something I have missed terribly – family time. This morning was pretty awesome as well, actually. I went out to Long Beach to meet up with one of my former roommates and play some beach volleyball. It’s been ages since I played, and I wish there was a way to make it a more regular occurrence. Sadly, with work re-starting this week, my time is becoming more and more spoken for. Part of me misses the kids and staff, but another part of me is wondering how much longer I’ll be staying there.

I do love my job. I think. Last school year I had one or two main characters which made my day significantly more enjoyable. Their company and the familiarity I became accustomed to will be lacking this year as they both have moved on to other schools. It’ll be interesting to see how this next year plays out. Really, the lack of these two isn’t the sole reason for believing my tenure may be short lived. Much has changed, and I’m not sure how work will fit into that change. Beyond just the tight budget, the environment there can be quite questionable. And speaking of changing environments…

Home life certainly will be changing with a baby being added to the mix. I’m not sure how much that will be affecting my location come March. It’s adding to the ever increasing stack which gets filed under “Trust God”…cuz, I have NO idea what’s going to happen next.

Part of me is excited about the uncertainty. I have dreams and desires which I have begged God to give me a clue about in the past, but at this point in life I’m just dealing with the moment and not focusing on “what if”. I have no idea how the future will play out, and I’ve stopped asking. My energies are better focused on loving those around me (and those who are not), rather than speculating about potential this or that. My roommate commented today on the change she noticed in me…and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just the fact that I talk a lot less. Indeed, I am more comfortable to just “be” than I have been in a while. The only time this shifts is when my mind a heart wander back to familiar territory – and I have to again hand them back to God and trust Him to take care of it. It’s the hardest thing to love someone enough to let go and trust that God is big enough to take care of them. It’s something I hand over daily. But that’s ok. I’m not the writer or director of this life.

Last year I took a picture of the marquis outside of Ganahl Lumber. The quote was something I found to be both amusing and quite true. It said: For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe. True indeed.

The Blog About Birds And Love

{ August 23, 2008 @ 6:47 pm } · { G, Legitimate Insight, Quoting the Brilliant }
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“You, on the other had, were created to be loved. So for you to live as if you were unloved is a limitation, not the other way around…Living unloved is like clipping a bird’s wings and removing its ability to fly. Not something I want for you…Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly…and if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were created to fly in the first place.” -God, in The Shack

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am reading through The Shack this week. I am on my second read through, but this particular selection is pulled from one of the two most profound and thought provoking chapters in the book, and it got me in the first round. I found such truth in this paragraph (which is actually pulled in parts from several paragraphs, but what was removed is internal dialog of the other character which doesn’t affect the context or intention of the selection above) that I felt the need to re-post it. It’s one of those things which I can’t put into words that well, but when I read this portion of the book, something shifted.

I have always judged myself based on my mistakes and how far I have fallen short of people’s expectations…whether it be parents, friends, people of supposed importance, or even God. I have defined myself by my mistakes and declared myself unlovable because of it. This is silliness, really. It is also completely limiting – crippling, even. To live under the weight of alleged disapproval can be an overwhelming burden to bare. Actually accepting that regardless of flaws, regardless of faults, I am loved fully and without condition by God…it brings a freedom like no other.

The difference between God’s love and the love we know as humans is that, unlike humans, we can never “let God down”. In order to let God down or disappoint Him, there would have to be expectations to be met and fallen short of. The cool thing about God (and the thing that rocked my world entirely) is that we can’t possibly let Him down…because He doesn’t have expectations to be met. He loves. He loves. He loves. End of story. He loves without condition. He loves simply because we are His. To me, at least, when faced with the awe inspiring truth that I am adored beyond all reason by the God of the universe…the rest of this world and it’s nonsense does indeed grow strangely dim.

Another interesting shift has been the one about where I choose to set my focus. The past few months, or nearly a year really, have been focused on a small group of characters. I recently learned that where we fix our eyes, therein lies our hope. No wonder I felt so hopeless up until recently. My eyes were fixed solely on my situation and the lives of those around me. Hope can not be based on people. Hope is found in God.

“Perhaps when all you see is pain, you lose sight of me?” – God, in The Shack

How true that pain has the ability to blind us to the very presence of God. We sit wallowing in our own misery and expect God to show up and fix everything. God is already there. He never left. Regardless of what we feel (or more accurately, DON’T feel), God is who he says he is. We’re just too preoccupied to see Him.

I wish there was a way to articulate all that is going on in my head and heart. It can’t be done, for now. There’s just too much. Only this time…too much is NOT a bad thing.

Music is the soundtrack of emotion. This video is just a glimmer of what I’m trying to get at.

The Blog With Asher

{ August 21, 2008 @ 5:11 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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I have to leave in less than 20 minutes to drop off Asher at my parents before driving out to Huntington Beach for soccer tonight, but thought I’d take a minute to write and add a picture or two of the previously mentioned Asher.

Asher

Asher

He’s been a major adjustment…now having to worry about being home at certain times and how much time I spend away from home. Like having a child. A four legged child.

WordPress took too long to upload. Time’s up.

For more pictures of Ash, go here

The Blog About The Shack

{ August 20, 2008 @ 1:43 pm } · { Legitimate Insight, Me, PG-13 }
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I just deleted what would have been the beginning line of this blog…for the sixth time.  I used to be able to begin these with a pretty clear and concise opening statement followed by the appropriate supporting sentences that make up an opening paragraph.  Lately, this has been a challenge – and a frustrating one at that.  With changes taking place at the rate at which they are, it has been dizzying to say the least.  Part of the problem certainly comes from an over-abundance of possible subjects and threads of thought, but now that I’m thinking about it, another side of this is a tendency which I only really saw for what it was within the past few days.

This morning I sat at Starbucks, just as I did yesterday, for what had to have been several hours of reading.  I started reading The Shack at the instruction of my counselor this past Monday.  Her homework for me entails reading the book three times; the first simply reading, the second journaling, and the third annotating.  All this has to be done within a week.  I’m nearly done with the first reading…and I can see quite clearly why she is having me read this particular book.  The lessons taken from this will likely be mentioned in the future, but for the moment, that’s not why I brought it up.  I brought it up because, as I was reading, there were several points which I wanted to immediately reflect on, then there was the train of thought which proceeded to think of getting a new journal to dedicate specifically to this task…and then I asked myself why.  Why do I feel the need to start a new journal, just because I don’t want what precedes it to be included?  Why do I perpetually crave these “fresh starts”?  New Journals, noting various dates as milestones to start over from, new home, new cell number (ok, there was a very real reason for that one), new…whatever.  I noticed this trend this morning and came to the following conclusion: I can’t tolerate being less than perfect, so any record of mistakes or ‘imperfections’ I have to somehow erase in order to move forward.  It’s like, I want a perfect track record in order to be acceptable.

Ha.  We all know it’s a bit late for that.

I really only have one major regret, in that I have only one thing which I would want to go back and change regardless of what was ‘learned’ by the situation.  There are other little things which I wish I could make amends for.  I wish I could apologize to the one I said “fuck you” to both with great feeling verbally and the matching physical gesture to go along with it.  I was frustrated that night, I felt small and used, and he had no idea how much that final barb hurt me.  Even still, the dramatic nonsense which I fired back with and the subsequent walking away which followed really weren’t necessary.  In the months that followed, I lived every day perpetually in defensive mode and looking back at it now, I said and did many things which were completely out of character and now make me cringe.  Come to think of it, the past year or so has been spent in perpetual defensive mode and has brought out the most overly dramatic and non-me responses to people that I would have thought I would say and do.

I can’t go back and undo what has already been done.  I can’t re-phrase something which has already been said.  I can’t delete my response to things which caught me off guard.  Indeed to do look back at a great deal of the recent past and cringe.  I’ve always despised drama.  I seem to find myself amongst it frequently, something I’m quite annoyed with.  Even the blogs of this year have held a spectacular level of drama.  The bummer is there is no rewind button…but there is the future.

The future doesn’t have to reflect the past.  The beauty of grace is that it is enough to cover all.  The other mind blowing notion is that God is neither surprised or disappointed by our mistakes.  Mistakes don’t disqualify us.  God doesn’t look at us and see our failures.  When God looks at us, he sees his Son.  That’s what redemption is all about.

So looking to the future, without the predisposition of ’starting over’, I’m looking forward to continuing on this journey knowing that God’s love is not dependent on my performance, rather on the fact that I am His beloved.  The beauty is that nothing can change that.

The Blog Beginning With Wild Horses

{ August 13, 2008 @ 11:42 pm } · { Blatant Overshare, Me, PG-13 }
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I woke up this morning with “Wild Horses” in my head. Not the original version, “The Sundays” version. Honestly, I have no idea why. I remember it being in the dream I was having, but I can’t remember the dream or even the last time I heard the song. It then proceeded to play in snippets in my head all morning as I got ready for work and took care of the puppy. Considering how random and odd things are lately, I guess it’s not too much of a shocker. Stranger things have happened.

Thankfully, at least for the moment, things have been mostly normal. I’m on break from school until the kids return, but I worked today and will be at the school tomorrow again just for hours sake. Tomorrow I’ll bring Asher with me so he’s not left alone all day. Should be interesting. Puppy watch while working. Hmm. Anyway, luckily it’s completely kick back and though I did work my ass off today and get a lot done, tomorrow should be a bit more low-key. I’m hoping. Really, it’s just manual labor while I listen to my iPod. Today, the selection was varied but mostly lingered on RockHarbor podcasts.

I’m re-listening to the series on Song of Solomon in hopes of re-kindling some of the convictions I felt so strongly the first time we went through the series. That was almost 5 years ago, and so much has happened since. This last time through the series, I was in a place where the conviction hit, but the corruption prohibited it from sticking. Now…I’m not sure. I believe what Mike Erre teaches in regards to scripture and God’s intentions for relationships and intimacy. I’ve known it to be true in the past, and seeing as God hasn’t changed last time I checked, the same holds true now. The problem is one which comes as no surprise as I’ve hopped up on my soap box about it when talking to people before about addictions and desensitizing etc. I’ve reached the sad place of being so desensitized to the whole thing that what would have seemed unthinkable in years past now is driving force of a craving which I battle moment to moment every single day.

Up until recently, I’d been able to tell my students and anyone else who asked that I’d never smoked a cigarette because I am aware of my addictive personality and the potential danger of trying it even once. I was right. It was dangerous. And while, at the moment, the experience has not lodged its self as a habit or even a regular occurrence, I can still feel the danger of it. It’s the same danger when certain characters come into play in my life. It’s the same feeling of fighting what I know is harmful in favor of taking care of myself. Sad truth though, is that I’m realizing I have little idea of how to take care of myself.

I trust too easily. I admire too quickly. In the end, all that happens is another scar. The scars vary in size, of course, but they still leave their damage – a new ‘lesson’ to shape all future interactions with whoever crosses my path.

I hate it. If there was a way to kill it off, I would. Some offer lines such as “You’re here, worrying about TRIVIAL SHIT”, or “Leave it in the past”, or whatever. Although appreciated, telling me to stop a pattern of behavior by mere say so is like asking me to get in the Octagon with a UFC fighter and win. It’s just not going to happen. No, I’m not surrendering. Just realizing that as frustrating as it may be, this thing is going to be a process.

The ‘fast’ is one thing. Another is something I really only just now noticed and feel a bit like a ‘tard for not seeing it before. The last few weeks have been, ehm, difficult, and I’ve been pissed off at myself and confused as hell about why my fixations seem to be so locked on one area of my life. Then, tonight, after another marathon of Nip/Tuck, it dawned on me. I start my morning with worship music in hopes of quieting the din already ringing in my head. In the car, as annoying as the station can be sometimes, it’s the Fish (I know) so that I’m not filling my head with more crap. Funny that, at the end of the day, I think that it’s somehow not going to affect me to watch a show filled with sex and superficiality when the morning I’m so guarded about what goes on around me. It’s no wonder it’s a damn battle. It’s like throwing a bundle of kittens in kiddie pool and then inviting a couple Pit Bulls to play. There may be some carnage.

It sucks to let go of vices. I feel like I should be in an AA meeting at times, just so that the people around me would have SOME idea what addiction feels like. I’m not an alcoholic, not even close. I’m just recognizing a pattern of behavior for what it really is – an addiction. No, I’m not a slut either. In case anyone was going THERE.

For the record, cold turkey may make a tasty sandwich, but hardly rules as a method of giving something up. It does seem to be the best option, though. For those reading who feel so inclined…even if you don’t fully understand, pray for me. I have no clue how we got here in this blog, but I hope it makes sense to someone.

The Blog About Lying

{ August 12, 2008 @ 5:42 am } · { Blatant Overshare, Legitimate Insight, PG-13 }
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I lie a lot.

I’ve realized this for years but only fully accepted the sad truth that I am indeed truth challenged recently. For those reading along and now questioning every interaction we may have had, halt that mode of thinking and let me be a bit more specific. I don’t lie to those around me, at least not on purpose. I’ve said it to many before and meant it, not only on a sincere basis but also with an element of dare only WISHING certain people would just out right ask me…ask me anything, and you’ll get a straight answer. But that said, the opening statement remains the same…To myself, that is. To myself, I lie a lot.

The complexity and depth of the lie can vary on a case by case basis and for any number of reasons. It can be merely to make myself see things from another point of view other than my immediate one. It could be an attempt to protect myself from hurt by convincing myself that someone isn’t what they initially may seem to be and their intentions are not what I would desire.

In the past I have justified everyone else’s actions in any given situation by trying to see where they’re coming from and consider every variable in their unique situation which could have influence their messed up behavior. If they were on trial for the shinanigans they pull and I was their lawyer, I’m pretty sure they’d end up getting off with a paid vacation to Bora Bora. With potential interests, I’ve done my best to convince myself that any interest they show my way is truthfully anything but and I’m reading them completely wrong. Even when they blatantly show interest my way, I’ve rationalized it by saying “They’re just being nice” or “I’m sure I’m not their type” or something else completely fabricated.

These, at this point of realization, I would consider trivial compared to the much larger theme of lies I have sold myself for far more years than I could probably dare estimate. Really the worst bull shit I have spun is that which convinces myself that even the worst trauma didn’t really hurt.

My parents and I have had parts of this conversation, though in a slightly different light. My mother remarked about how strong they always thought I was. There’s some truth to that, absolutely. But there’s a difference between being strong enough to get through painful events and lying your way into believing the situation didn’t bother you. In my case, the lies are innumerable. And the paragraph that follows, will likely border heavily on overshare.

I’ve lied to myself and convinced myself that hurt from high school wasn’t hurt, that what was stolen at 17 was my fault and not that of the other, that what [he] said about me didn’t bother me and leave me forever questioning the truth behind it, that the truth of the story told in court at 19 didn’t bother me, that the hand prints left on my throat at 21 were the only damage really done that night in November (ok, a slightly more flimsy lie), that my boss yelling at me was just because he was an asshole and I really overreacted by crying, that I had no right to be hurt when [he] slept with her – while he was with me, that [she]’s just speaking out of jealousy and hurt and what she says is irrelevant…but those are just circumstances.

The problem with lying to yourself is that soon enough those lies become the ‘truths’ upon which you build yourself. What I’m realizing now is that having build myself on a foundation of bull shit…it’s not really a surprise that things don’t smell so rosy.

To be clear…I’m generally quite aware of the flip side of the above mentioned statements. My battle really is that – a battle. I see the good, but I tell myself the bad. I see the beauty, but tell myself of that which is ugly. I can give the run down of the good things I see in me and around me and about me…but something in me is terrified to risk believing them. So, I lie.

At 24 I have damn near bought into the lies that I am an unattractive fuck-up who meddles and destroys and who’s life is and will be a never ending cyclical cluster F of storms dotted with sporadic and brief moments of muted joy and happiness.

Why share all this? Why put my dirtiest (well, alright, I’m sure we could get dirtier if we put our minds to it) laundry out there for the world to see? That’s what it is, really. To me, an slide show of my mistakes and failings is trivial pieces of information. What lies behind that is where it gets personal. My dirty laundry is what I lie to protect…what I actually think and feel. The affects of things done to me and around me is what I have kicked and screamed about and refused to acknowledge. I’m told that the likely reason for this is a lack of self-worth which prohibits me from seeing other people’s actions as a violation, seeing as value is needed in order to recognize that devaluing matters.

Ok, but why?

The first step in breaking the cycle of a lie is to expose the lie for what it is, and then speak the truth. So, given what has already been said, what then is the truth?

I’m not a fuck up. Someone of marked value in my life said to me not too long ago that “the mistakes you make are not what defines you – what you do after, that is what defines you”. Life isn’t dictated by how many times we fall…rather by how many times we get up. There’s been a lot in my life which has been somewhat colorful. Some was my doing. Even the worst of my situations I went into with full knowledge of what would happen in the end – but that doesn’t change the hurt. Accepting responsibility doesn’t absolve pain. Being accountable doesn’t erase memories.

This past weekend was one of the roughest I’ve dealt with in a long time. Birthdays are HUGE to me. They are often marked with reflections upon the year that’s past and what I did with it. As I said in a previous blog, for the first time ever, I can’t look back on this past year and see the lessons learned justifying the pain it took to get there. I’ve never truly regretted anything to the point of wishing I could go back and erase something that happened – until this year. The good memories, I never should have had. And the bad…they FAR outnumber the good. Just this acknowledgment is a huge step in the direction of honesty. That’s another thing this past weekend brought up for me: I’m tired. I’m tired of pretending that all’s well. I’m tired of faking strength and insight when really half of what my head knows and can spew out at will, my heart still has yet to learn. This past weekend almost became too much, for several reasons.

There is no “Ah ha!” moment to speak of, in all honesty. I went from the lowest low I’ve ever been, to a gradual climb back up to at least a plateau for the moment. Recognizing that something has to change has brought two realizations, the first being the cease of lies. Honesty can be hard to fact, but living a life of denial is a far worse fate as far as I’m concerned.

The second realization is really just a re-draft of an agreement I had made with my counselor back in April. At the time, she made me agree to no dating for six months – that would put the end of the deal on October 21st. After our meeting today, we re-drafted the deal into something a bit different. It’s something far more difficult, but with a smaller time frame. Basically, the deal is zero contact with anyone outside of the platonic friend circle…ending September 1st.

When you build your truth on lies, outside influences are therefore far more influential than they would be ordinarily. As someone who is quite relationally driven, the influence of male opinion and approval has had far too much of a say in my overall sense of wellbeing. So…we cut the umbilical cord…

And get back to what, at the core of me, I know is true. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good. Not lie changes that. And where we go from here, only He knows. I don’t know what the next four weeks will look like, but if denying myself means honoring Him…Then that’ll be the only acceptable denying to be done.

The Blog About The Name

{ August 12, 2008 @ 3:05 am } · { Uncategorized }
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“Let us consider that wonderful sign [of the resurrection] which takes place in Eastern lands, that is, in Arabia and the countries round about. There is a certain bird which is called a phoenix. This is the only one of its kind, and lives five hundred years. And when the time of its dissolution draws near that it must die, it builds itself a nest of frankincense, and myrrh, and other spices, into which, when the time is fulfilled, it enters and dies. But as the flesh decays a certain kind of worm is produced, which, being nourished by the juices of the dead bird, brings forth feathers. Then, when it has acquired strength, it takes up that nest in which are the bones of its parent, and bearing these it passes from the land of Arabia into Egypt, to the city called Heliopolis. And, in open day, flying in the sight of all men, it places them on the altar of the sun, and having done this, hastens back to its former abode. The priests then inspect the registers of the dates, and find that it has returned exactly as the five hundredth year was completed.”

Destruction. Re-birth. Rising from the ashes…Every 500 Years.

The Blog That’s Emo

{ August 7, 2008 @ 3:57 pm } · { Blatant Overshare, PG }
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“Emotions are hardly trustworthy. Considering that they are fickle and can vary depending on far too many variables, they are unreliable basis for behavior.”

And you should save yourself some really neato pain by shooting them dead at the first signs of an appearance.

If you’ve known me long enough to have heard my soap box about the nonsense of emotions, then the above will likely sound familiar. The only reason why the first portion is in quotes (quoting myself) is due to the frequency of which I have rambled off the same garbage about emotion. Yes, I know it’s garbage. Doesn’t completely cause me to hang up my We Hate Feelings Club black cap of sarcastic indifference, but it has made me sit back and quietly acknowledge that my beloved defense mechanism has truly done me no favors because at the spectacular age of two-days-shy-of-24, I have successfully managed to lie and cheat myself out of, well, living.

I have based my argument upon the still true fact that interacting with other people based solely on an extreme emotion is like taking an AK47 to a squirt gun fight. It doesn’t usually end well…and it’s just plain not fair. People who feel something and instantly react while choosing to remain oblivious as to how their actions affect the other drive me insane. I’m not referring to justifiable anger or hurt. These are completely valid feelings. What you choose to DO with those feelings is what I have a problem with. There is a stark contrast between standing up for yourself and just being a self centered and sociopathic A-hole. My policy has been to give any strong emotional input at least a day or two to simmer, or at the very least the removal of myself from the situation until reason can return, before responding to the other person in question. That’s the thing that few remember when they’re at the height of hurt…there is indeed another person. That other person may or may not deserve the full wrath of the other’s hell poured over them. In most cases, there are even people on the periphery who are affected by such outbursts…and shame on those who don’t consider this before spouting off at the mouth and forcing their emotional vomit down our throats.

I’ve never thought about his before, clearly.

Obviously, this subject I have pontificated many a time and bitched about plenty to those who have been willing to put up with my verbal ponderings. It does astound me how oblivious people are to the fact that those around them are people too – they think, and feel, and are affected by whatever stimuli you choose to hurl their way. This aversion to other people’s nonsense, as one who gives and allows time for the storm to pass before making decisions, is part of what has caused me to shun emotion all together. That’s not such a super idea, as it turns out.

I’m realizing that I’ve managed to cheat myself out of a decent portion of life. Emotion is meant to enhance life. That rush of adrenaline when scaling a rock face and seeing the height grow below you as you climb higher and higher. That feeling of first touch with someone you care for…the bliss of loving and being loved in return. The depths of pain and loss give us the ability to put our blessings in perspective – you really can’t appreciate the good for all it has to offer without feeling the bad as well.

For me…at least for the past few years, at the first sign of emotion I’ve told myself to stop being a chicky girl and look at things from a rational and text book point of view. Bummer, really, because that’s not how I naturally function. My weekly Monday afternoon appointment informed me of my tendency to reject any and all emotion and how that has ended up doing more damage than protection. It halts the healing process after hurt. It prohibits from being able to distinguish between like and more than like. And it robs my joy. I balk at being happy for fear of disappointment. I am afraid to hope because a part of me expects to be immediately let down as a result of hope. I seldom trust people at their word because I have been around far too many manipulative liars. I find it easier to live behind walls.

Screw that.

I keep touting that the past does not define the future. I think it’s about time I live accordingly. I look at it this way…risk can hurt – but playing it safe hasn’t exactly worked out so stellar either. Once again, I’m just thinking out loud. Nothing too profound, but hopefully enough food for thought and enough nourishment for change.

The Blog At (Almost) 24

{ August 7, 2008 @ 6:11 am } · { Uncategorized }
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There’s far too much that I either could, should, or merely want to write about. Three or four topics jump at me to start with…and there’s more, I’m certain. So…I guess what I’m saying is this thing could get interesting. Or. Not. Depends on your point of view, I suppose.

Things in life are pretty eventful at the moment. There is so much that I have been blessed with. A new chapter in life, new place, a break from work, new puppy…and that’s just the situational up side of things. In the grand scheme of things, I’m incredibly blessed. I was given an amazing family – phenomenal parents and two brothers who aren’t too shabby as well. I live in Orange County, and as much as I bitch about the materialistic bull shit which seems to govern this place, in reality I can’t complain. That one I really don’t need to expand upon. Then there’s me…I’m not exactly sub par. Acknowledging anything positive about myself is something completely new to me. Just giving myself the credit of being intelligent, trustworthy, something other than boring, perhaps above average looking, and maybe overall a decent human being is something foreign. I have several theories as to why this is, but maybe that’s for another time.

The other side of mildly eventful is the side I was more tempted to open this with. I forced myself to begin with the positives because when it comes to negatives…well, there’s a decent amount of stress on my plate.

I turn 24 on Saturday. I admitted to my mother today that I’m really not looking forward to my birthday in the slightest. In fact, to be honest, part of me would rather it wasn’t the ninth of August in three days. A large part of me hardly wants to celebrate this past year. Bury it 12 feet under, perhaps, but hardly look back in thanksgiving over its existence. I’ve learned so much in the past twelve months…but for once in my life I can’t look back and see past the pain and honestly say that the end justified the means. A lot of what I did and was done is unjustifiable. One of the pieces of my conversation with my mom today included me stating that “there is no way around it – this past year and all its crap happened and nothing can change that”. This reality isn’t something I dwell on, but as a point of reflection approaches, I dread the day and what it could potential lead to.

Birthdays are one of those occasions which hold the potential for joy as well as pain. They set the stage for hope and expectation – two postures which can either lead to intense satisfaction or deep disappointment. Yes, there is land in between…but as someone who fears hope like an inmate fears the showers, the hesitation for looking forward to the event in question becomes the prodominent mindset. Lets see…last few birthdays…

21 was awesome, though there was certainly the sadness of spending it sans significant other. 22 was probably the most painful ever. I’d just come home from Georgia having left half of me 2200 miles away…and he chose THAT day to declare himself officially single and moved on to someone new. My reaction wasn’t so positive. 23 was cool considering my roommates throwing a surprise shindig at our place with a few friends. Very cool…but there was a marked silence from the person I was seeing at the time. Within the week whatever was…wasn’t. It sounds like I base the scale of birthday bliss on relationship status, but really that’s not the case. Single or taken is of little relevance. It just has turned out that the dramatic nonsense of imploding relationships have crescendoed around my annual turning of age. Craptacular, indeed.

This year…what I want and what will happen may well be worlds apart.

No, I’m not in a woe is me mood. Just thinking about things. Realizing that having the puppy is a lot like getting pregnant in high school. As much as you may love the kid – perhaps the timing could have been better. He’s a lot of work and responsibility. Add him to the mountain of ever increasing bills…such as moving out, the puppy himself, car problems, MORE CAR PROBLEMS (car is currently in the shop…again) and medical bills which have found their way to my custody instead of my insurance. Sweet. And the weekly cost of staying sane via monday appointments. Damn it. I can hold Asher (the puppy) all I want – problem is, he doesn’t hug back.

Sigh. It’s late. I do need, among other things, sleep. To be continued.