Return of the Words

They came back in a flood today, running through my mind and determined to escape. I know this posting won't make a lick of sense and I don't really give a shit. I know that this whole thing will seem deliberately cryptic and I don't care about that, either. I need to write and get these words out of me.

We all use these blogs (in whatever form) to stay in touch and keep our e-friends (many of whom we have met in person)and family somewhat in our loop, among other reasons. I haven't done that very well here, nor with my family and meatspace friends. It has been deliberately cryptic at times, often because my need to express my thoughts somewhere - anywhere - took form here. Best intentions and all that noise.

This has been one of the most difficult weeks of my life. I can't explain it all now because so much of it was kept private. That was most assuredly a mistake and one with truly pathetic motivations, upon review of the play. To launch into it now would be akin to starting into a book too many chapters into it, and at the expense of others. Truth be told, so much of it is painful and raw and humiliating that I simply cannot make it public right now and knowing that there is at least one person who might occasionally read and take pleasure in my heartache and turmoil? Yeah. No. I certainly deserve every consequence from my choices and actions, but knowing someone is delighting in it unsettles me.

In any event, I have a ton of shit to work out. So much, it is positively overwhelming, and yet. And yet, today, I am better, and fuck, better feels so damn good. Better means 180% less self-loathing and sadness and pain. I am going to work my shit out through my words (elsewhere, for the time being) but will endeavor to keep this one alive, too. Yeah, I know the cheesiness in the next statement, but my hope is that by working my shit out while simultaneously exercising the discipline to actually put fingers to keyboard and type here as often as possible, I might just become the great writer I always wanted to be. I know that I am going to become the woman I want and need to be and a person worth knowing.

I read a book (no, not the fucking Secret) this weekend that somehow put everything into perspective and changed my outlook. I confess that the preceding statement skeeves me out to no end and no, it wasn't a self-help book. It was seriously just one key point in a chick-lit style memoir that rattled my bones. Even odder, it was a sentiment that my sister told me a while ago but didn't take hold at the time. My older sister, she is wiser and knows me better than anyone. I know what I need to do, even though I have no fucking clue how to do it. I don't, but knowing where you need to go and where you want to be is half the battle. Knowing where you don't want to be has to be the other part.

Quasi related: a year and a half after B and I split, I slept with someone. Someone who I have known longer than almost any other person, and someone who was "safe" to me in every sense of the word. We spent a few days together in bed and lounging about and it felt safe and real (but not necessarily intimate, if that makes sense). It wasn't really, of course, but at the time, it was a pretty heady experience to have your first good lay (Ed. Note: the man's unit is too big for you, but he knows and loves you and has skills that few men have).

In any event, and if you knew the whole story, you would understand how wild this was, but he called me on Saturday (he lives out of state), telling me he was in town. My eyes teared up immediately at the thought that he was here, and his voice told me that he wanted to be together again. He said "how are you" in the rare manner in which people are genuinely concerned and I said "God, R, so good to hear you are here. I am better now." We made plans to get together today and I was certain that being with R would fix what is broken in me.

I was supposed to be on the 11am boat, but I was still reading. I couldn't stop reading. When I hit the part that really spoke to me, I realized I wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't going to go hook up with R and try to make myself feel better about myself because I knew R loved me and wanted me. I just fucking got it. My sense of self cannot be dependent on what other people think of me. Sure, I could have probably had a great time with R and, because we have known each other as long as I can remember, it would feel real, but it would have been a fucking Band Aid on what is fucked up with me.

So yeah, I am inordinately proud that I haven't returned the five voice messages and that I didn't succumb to the need to be validated (fuck, hate that word, too) by another human being. I am so fucking flawed and I am working on that, but today, I think I made a baby step in the right direction. At this point, I will take my victories where I can find them.

I hope to be here regularly, exhibiting my lighter side and catching up. In the meantime, two videos whose songs have been all up in my psyche. Thank you all for being here and listening to my utterly banal shit. I tend to write, no matter what, for an audience, even if that audience is just me. The fact that you even read this tripe? Holy hell, you have no idea how comforting that is, especially on a dark weekend where all of my meatspace friends are MIA and I felt positively suffocated by loneliness and self-loathing.



This is kind of where I am now. Pretty fucking kickass video, too, although it is the words (yes -- WORDS!) of the song that resonate. Still not enough to get me to watch MTV again. It could also be a repeat on this blog. Fucking sue me - I know a good attorney.



I heard this song a few times on my favorite radio station and loved it. I heard it about a month ago and really fell in love. Now? Yeah, it is in my bones.