Themes: Learn to be comfortable alone & Take time to do the rituals and meditations that help
As today has gone on, I've been feeling this blanket of despair falling over me. It's not "I'm gonna die!" despair, but that's still the best word for it. It's a deep sadness bundled up with a feeling of no escape. This feeling belongs here, it seems to say, and it's going nowhere. As the blanket settled on my shoulders, I allowed it to envelop me. I wanted to explore the emotions, understand the feelings that were beginning to overcome me.
At first, the cacophony of thoughts drowned out any real substantive features, but slowly, certain thoughts began to emerge as useful. Mostly questions: What am I sad for? What am I reaching for? What am I aching for? Aching... I'm aching... why am I aching? What is causing the aching? Can I relieve it? ... what am I aching for?
This was an interesting line of thought for me. That ache is ubiquitous with my broken hearts. Every time I walk out of a relationship - whether it's by holding the door or walking through it myself - I get this ache, this overwhelming feeling of deep sadness broadened by need. Need... what do I need? If I figure this need out, will the ache go away? Can I fill whatever need there is without a partner? Can I be enough to fill this need?
... what is it that I need?
I sat quietly at my desk, listening to the Paper Kites, and let that question wash over me. What is it that I need? What.... do.... I .... need.... need? Want? No, it's need. It's a bone-deep need. It fills me completely, under this blanket of sadness. So what is it?
The image of curling up on the couch with my ex came up; us watching TV, laughing, snuggling. A feeling of warmth hit me with a bit of a sharp cut that surprised me. I looked at the cut, and an image of my ex in a rage, angry at me for making a mistake, the feeling of being on edge, of walking on glass like when I was a child and my angry alcoholic father would scream. This image was a flash - barely perceptible, but there, bringing with it the emotions that I swore I wouldn't deal with again. As the flash passed,
I focused on that "need" again, trying to figure out what being in a relationship did that made it abate. An image of my ex and I walking along the Pugent Sound shore, holding hands, talking, but there was another bit of sharpness. I wasn't relaxed with him. Not fully. I had told myself that I was, but in looking at it now, I realize that I was nearly always a little on edge. What would upset him? What would make him sad, angry, annoyed? What would I say that would change the tone of our conversation?
Again, it had been a flash, barely a thought. Yet, still... knowledge.
A few more minutes of this kind of work, and a true image began to show itself. The Need. The driving desire that built up this horrible sadness when I was single. I want - no, need - to feel fully comfortable with someone. Not just comfortable, but... myself. My true self. My whole self. I need to be where I don't need masks, armor, war paint. Where I don't need to worry about my every word, my every movement. Where I can make mistakes and it's okay. Where am I loved. Loved the way my friends keep telling me that I deserve. Loved for me, and not for who they want me to be, or who I think they want me to be.
So much of our lives are hidden from the world. We choose what we wear to present an image, not because it's who we really are. Yesterday, because I was going into a big meeting with a lot of people that I needed to listen to me, I wore a business skirt, shell blouse, cardigan, and heels. I had put on make-up, straightened my hair, and trimmed my fingernails. Battle mode. War paint on. Armor in place. Face of professionalism ready. Today, I wore jeans and a kind of dressy top. Tennis shoes, no make-up, and my hair up in a pony tail. I wanted to be invisible, unseen, ignored. I wanted to deal with the pain of last night that still lingered when I woke up this morning. The Invisible Woman mode.
But with whom do we ever get to do relax like that? In theory, our partners, the people who are with us by choice, who love us wholly.
That's what I'm looking for, but haven't had in a long time. I never had it with my first husband. He believed me to be not-so-bright, but a great lay. Pretty good mom, but of course, he was the better parent. To him, I was always lacking. After him I dated a man who actively sought to hide me from the world as a part of his life. He didn't want to go in public with me. If we did, it was as "buddies". My second husband... with him I felt the most at "home". It took me seven long years to finally trust that he would be there, to relax and start to be myself (minus watching my every word for fear that I would tip his depression into the wrong direction), but it was my closest to getting there. Then, five years later, that "home" was blown away in a spectacular fashion. When that relationship exploded, it wasn't a simple blanket of sadness overlaid with need. No, my heart went into a coma and is only just beginning to emerge. And now my most recent ex... he is so uncomfortable with himself that I was never going to be able to be myself with him. He focuses so heavily on how the outside world sees him, and therefore how it sees me, as I was a reflection of his choices. And I was found wanting... often. He demanded perfection, though he probably doesn't even realize that he did it, and I am never going to be perfect.
Home... this emotional blanket fort filled with sadness and need... it's my shelter while I seek home. While I seek a place to sink into wholly, completely, nakedly. It's filled with sadness because I'm completely alone in there, snuggling into myself, trying to push away the need that fills my soul. So alone, and that's what I've always focused on. The alone part... not the home part. Because if I can be with someone, there's a chance that I'll find home. If I'm alone, well... how would it even be possible?
And here's where my epiphany comes in. When I was with my ex - all of my exes - I wasn't alone, but finding home was never possible with them, either. I was completely incapable of being myself while with them because I was 100% focused on being what I thought they wanted me to be, which is the exact opposite of what I need.
I wasn't alone, but I was Alone. I felt those shards, those punctures, over and over and over again, and I thought that it was okay because at least I wasn't alone.
What is wrong with me? It's my mantra right now. Not in a self-defacing way, but rather in an exploratory way. What is wrong with me? And on this, I've found an answer. My fear of being alone has pushed me to be Alone for almost all of my life. I need the comfort of a warm embrace, a snuggle-in, but with someone who doesn't prick me with his shards. I need to relax without worrying about getting splinters.
I need... to be me. I need... to love me. I need... to snuggle in alone and relax, pulling that blanket up for a time. But the blanket isn't sadness. It's a weight, warmth, a shield... I need to be alone with my blanket shield to protect myself from being Alone. I can deal with that. Aching or no, I can deal with that.
**********************************************************************
Note: What I went through today was a form of meditation. I call it Free-flow, but I'm sure there's some other fancy name for it. Basically, I focus on a feeling, an emotion, a thought, and let my mind wander on that until it pulls me in a direction, and I follow that thread until I either come up with an answer or a dead-end. If it's an answer and I don't need more, I leave it there. If I feel like I need more or I've hit a dead end, I travel that path backwards to the first focus and follow a different thread in another direction. I can do this dozens of different times for a single topic, or I can do it once and find what I'm looking for. This one took me down a lot of paths, a lot of memories, a lot of feelings, before I got to my "answer". I just wrote about a few of them.
This is a really effective method for me to explore my emotions, something that I continually learn from.
As today has gone on, I've been feeling this blanket of despair falling over me. It's not "I'm gonna die!" despair, but that's still the best word for it. It's a deep sadness bundled up with a feeling of no escape. This feeling belongs here, it seems to say, and it's going nowhere. As the blanket settled on my shoulders, I allowed it to envelop me. I wanted to explore the emotions, understand the feelings that were beginning to overcome me.
At first, the cacophony of thoughts drowned out any real substantive features, but slowly, certain thoughts began to emerge as useful. Mostly questions: What am I sad for? What am I reaching for? What am I aching for? Aching... I'm aching... why am I aching? What is causing the aching? Can I relieve it? ... what am I aching for?
This was an interesting line of thought for me. That ache is ubiquitous with my broken hearts. Every time I walk out of a relationship - whether it's by holding the door or walking through it myself - I get this ache, this overwhelming feeling of deep sadness broadened by need. Need... what do I need? If I figure this need out, will the ache go away? Can I fill whatever need there is without a partner? Can I be enough to fill this need?
... what is it that I need?
I sat quietly at my desk, listening to the Paper Kites, and let that question wash over me. What is it that I need? What.... do.... I .... need.... need? Want? No, it's need. It's a bone-deep need. It fills me completely, under this blanket of sadness. So what is it?
The image of curling up on the couch with my ex came up; us watching TV, laughing, snuggling. A feeling of warmth hit me with a bit of a sharp cut that surprised me. I looked at the cut, and an image of my ex in a rage, angry at me for making a mistake, the feeling of being on edge, of walking on glass like when I was a child and my angry alcoholic father would scream. This image was a flash - barely perceptible, but there, bringing with it the emotions that I swore I wouldn't deal with again. As the flash passed,
I focused on that "need" again, trying to figure out what being in a relationship did that made it abate. An image of my ex and I walking along the Pugent Sound shore, holding hands, talking, but there was another bit of sharpness. I wasn't relaxed with him. Not fully. I had told myself that I was, but in looking at it now, I realize that I was nearly always a little on edge. What would upset him? What would make him sad, angry, annoyed? What would I say that would change the tone of our conversation?
Again, it had been a flash, barely a thought. Yet, still... knowledge.
A few more minutes of this kind of work, and a true image began to show itself. The Need. The driving desire that built up this horrible sadness when I was single. I want - no, need - to feel fully comfortable with someone. Not just comfortable, but... myself. My true self. My whole self. I need to be where I don't need masks, armor, war paint. Where I don't need to worry about my every word, my every movement. Where I can make mistakes and it's okay. Where am I loved. Loved the way my friends keep telling me that I deserve. Loved for me, and not for who they want me to be, or who I think they want me to be.
So much of our lives are hidden from the world. We choose what we wear to present an image, not because it's who we really are. Yesterday, because I was going into a big meeting with a lot of people that I needed to listen to me, I wore a business skirt, shell blouse, cardigan, and heels. I had put on make-up, straightened my hair, and trimmed my fingernails. Battle mode. War paint on. Armor in place. Face of professionalism ready. Today, I wore jeans and a kind of dressy top. Tennis shoes, no make-up, and my hair up in a pony tail. I wanted to be invisible, unseen, ignored. I wanted to deal with the pain of last night that still lingered when I woke up this morning. The Invisible Woman mode.
But with whom do we ever get to do relax like that? In theory, our partners, the people who are with us by choice, who love us wholly.
That's what I'm looking for, but haven't had in a long time. I never had it with my first husband. He believed me to be not-so-bright, but a great lay. Pretty good mom, but of course, he was the better parent. To him, I was always lacking. After him I dated a man who actively sought to hide me from the world as a part of his life. He didn't want to go in public with me. If we did, it was as "buddies". My second husband... with him I felt the most at "home". It took me seven long years to finally trust that he would be there, to relax and start to be myself (minus watching my every word for fear that I would tip his depression into the wrong direction), but it was my closest to getting there. Then, five years later, that "home" was blown away in a spectacular fashion. When that relationship exploded, it wasn't a simple blanket of sadness overlaid with need. No, my heart went into a coma and is only just beginning to emerge. And now my most recent ex... he is so uncomfortable with himself that I was never going to be able to be myself with him. He focuses so heavily on how the outside world sees him, and therefore how it sees me, as I was a reflection of his choices. And I was found wanting... often. He demanded perfection, though he probably doesn't even realize that he did it, and I am never going to be perfect.
Home... this emotional blanket fort filled with sadness and need... it's my shelter while I seek home. While I seek a place to sink into wholly, completely, nakedly. It's filled with sadness because I'm completely alone in there, snuggling into myself, trying to push away the need that fills my soul. So alone, and that's what I've always focused on. The alone part... not the home part. Because if I can be with someone, there's a chance that I'll find home. If I'm alone, well... how would it even be possible?
And here's where my epiphany comes in. When I was with my ex - all of my exes - I wasn't alone, but finding home was never possible with them, either. I was completely incapable of being myself while with them because I was 100% focused on being what I thought they wanted me to be, which is the exact opposite of what I need.
I wasn't alone, but I was Alone. I felt those shards, those punctures, over and over and over again, and I thought that it was okay because at least I wasn't alone.
What is wrong with me? It's my mantra right now. Not in a self-defacing way, but rather in an exploratory way. What is wrong with me? And on this, I've found an answer. My fear of being alone has pushed me to be Alone for almost all of my life. I need the comfort of a warm embrace, a snuggle-in, but with someone who doesn't prick me with his shards. I need to relax without worrying about getting splinters.
I need... to be me. I need... to love me. I need... to snuggle in alone and relax, pulling that blanket up for a time. But the blanket isn't sadness. It's a weight, warmth, a shield... I need to be alone with my blanket shield to protect myself from being Alone. I can deal with that. Aching or no, I can deal with that.
**********************************************************************
Note: What I went through today was a form of meditation. I call it Free-flow, but I'm sure there's some other fancy name for it. Basically, I focus on a feeling, an emotion, a thought, and let my mind wander on that until it pulls me in a direction, and I follow that thread until I either come up with an answer or a dead-end. If it's an answer and I don't need more, I leave it there. If I feel like I need more or I've hit a dead end, I travel that path backwards to the first focus and follow a different thread in another direction. I can do this dozens of different times for a single topic, or I can do it once and find what I'm looking for. This one took me down a lot of paths, a lot of memories, a lot of feelings, before I got to my "answer". I just wrote about a few of them.
This is a really effective method for me to explore my emotions, something that I continually learn from.
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