I was standing in a hallway in Goldspohn, upstairs. The walls were stucco, and the building was done like a Spanish mission. A dirty, angry, foul-mouthed man out of an old Western movie stood next to me, roaming the hallway, guarding me. He was missing teeth, his face was covered in mud. He hobbled on a gimp leg and dressed all in black. Hair was missing from his scalp and he attempted to cover it up with a hat. He was emaciated, weak, and angry.
I heard you approaching by your boots. The boots I'll always remember. I heard you clomping down the hallway and I turned the corner I was leaning against and quickly jerked my head back when I saw your face, avoiding eye contact like I had been for the last month.
The dirty, foul-mouthed man that was full of hate came and stood next to me, holding his body right at my side, touching my shoulder. He blocked your path down the hallway and something you were carrying got caught in him.
"Please don't...you'll rip it. I don't want you to rip it. It's a project; it's important to me," you said as what you were carrying got caught in his arms and legs.
You stopped after he moved aside, as if you had something to say to me. Tears started falling from your eyes; you couldn't stop.
I pulled you into a nearby stairwell and before I could ask you what was wrong you embraced me, held on to me, and cried into my shoulder. Your tears were staining and soaking the shoulder of my shirt. I kept holding on, trying to ask you what was wrong.
You released me, faced me, and gave me what you had been carrying, the object that the man with me was trying to ruin. It was everything. It was a diagram, a model, a poster, a card, a letter. It was everything that I loved and valued. It was all of me and everything that I was and wanted to be, everything that I tried to be for everyone, every expectation and goal for myself that I could never live up to. It was all of this on a piece of crumpled tan paper that the man had tried to ruin when you got caught in him in the hallway. You had somehow made it for me, and you were going to give it to me. It was going to be a gift.
The man was gone. He hadn't followed us into the stairwell and it was so much easier to not be angry when he wasn't there. It was so much easier to not feel hateful when he wasn't there guarding me, roaming around me, covered in dirt and screaming obscenities at the injustices he had faced over the years.
When I woke up, it was harder to be angry. In losing that anger, I fear I'll lose any protection, any shield, any defense that I might have gained. That anger and that vile tongue has always been my defense. It has always been roaming around me and attempting to protect me.
5/15/11
My Mother
That was probably the best letter I've gotten in a while; it was touching, really, on a lot of levels. My mom and I are more or less the same person but a world apart. She had written me a letter after I spoke with her very briefly about a relationship that ended back in December and my current feelings about what had happened. In the letter, she detailed almost the exact same situation that she had been through, and it was so wonderfully put that I needed to put it up here.
"Well, that sent me into a deep nosedive. I absolutely plummeted into despair and discouragement. It was one thing to end the relationship and to lose him in general. I must have had some fantasy that he would change and become a Christian and we’d get married. What a laugh. But it was another thing altogether to lose that fantasy and to have to starkly face the reality that this was really, really over, and this guy was going to get married and have children, and I was alone. He had chosen someone else, not me.
I can’t tell you how much I hated him. I had never hated anyone like that before, and never since. I felt used, shriveled, worthless, not good enough, and like I was just dying and wasting away. I have poetry from that time (well, maybe I threw it away at some point – I don’t really know) that I actually got college credit for. I felt lost and alone – robbed and beaten and left bleeding. I didn’t feel like the person I was, was even me. I felt like my personhood had been totally given away to this man, and now I was left with nothing. Empty.
Part of the awfulness was that I still felt such strong emotions of love for ed – crazy as that probably sounds. So to try to get over that, I focused all my energy on just hating him for all I was worth. I told myself things that were hateful about him in order to try to push out any feelings of love and desire for him.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to pursue my relationship with God, which for me (as you know!) often comes in the form of books. So I went to this Christian bookstore, the mustard seed, kind of close to my house, and searched around for something that might help me feel better. I found a book called “healing life’s hurts” by matthew and dennis linn – two catholic priests (or maybe Episcopalian?). I thought, well, maybe that will help me, cuz I am hurt like crazy.
The bottom line of the book was that we need to forgive in order to be healed from all the things that have hurt us. Of course with lots of explanation about how and why! So I realized that this was what I needed to do – that holding on to hate was not going to help me accept the situation and move forward. And the hating thing wasn’t really working for me ….
I don’t remember all of the process I went thru, but I do very specifically remember one day, standing in my bedroom which had a big window overlooking the parking lot (this was in my Wrightwood apartment just west of Clark St.), looking outside, and telling God that I knew I had to, but I just couldn’t forgive Ed because I knew enough about forgiveness from what I’d read and how I’d been brought up, that a person has to hold a certain amount of love for someone in order to forgive. I knew that God forgave me out of great love – and only because of his great love. I knew that forgiveness could not be born out of intense hatred. So I told God, “I can’t forgive him because if I let myself love Ed, I will do something really stupid – I don’t trust myself to love him or like him at all.” And I heard God speak to me in one of the clearest ways I’ve ever heard him, and he said “You will not be loving him out of your own heart, but you will love him through me. It’s not your own love, but my love.” "
-Glenna Ganster
I don't know if i'm there yet. There are days when it's okay and then there are days when I just want what's best for him and then there are days that I hate him and dread to walk by him. It doesn't make much sense, seeing as it was a relatively short term thing. I wish I could write the pages upon pages it would take to describe why it was hurtful, or why Zachary was hurtful. Maybe some day I will write those pages and learn something from them. And I hope that those pages include my own part, in each of these stories that exist, because we all played our parts. We are fools, even the most well intentioned loving, caring, genuine people.
Until then, I will remain somewhat a mess, and allow Jayme into that mess. And hopefully he allows me in to his.
"Well, that sent me into a deep nosedive. I absolutely plummeted into despair and discouragement. It was one thing to end the relationship and to lose him in general. I must have had some fantasy that he would change and become a Christian and we’d get married. What a laugh. But it was another thing altogether to lose that fantasy and to have to starkly face the reality that this was really, really over, and this guy was going to get married and have children, and I was alone. He had chosen someone else, not me.
I can’t tell you how much I hated him. I had never hated anyone like that before, and never since. I felt used, shriveled, worthless, not good enough, and like I was just dying and wasting away. I have poetry from that time (well, maybe I threw it away at some point – I don’t really know) that I actually got college credit for. I felt lost and alone – robbed and beaten and left bleeding. I didn’t feel like the person I was, was even me. I felt like my personhood had been totally given away to this man, and now I was left with nothing. Empty.
Part of the awfulness was that I still felt such strong emotions of love for ed – crazy as that probably sounds. So to try to get over that, I focused all my energy on just hating him for all I was worth. I told myself things that were hateful about him in order to try to push out any feelings of love and desire for him.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to pursue my relationship with God, which for me (as you know!) often comes in the form of books. So I went to this Christian bookstore, the mustard seed, kind of close to my house, and searched around for something that might help me feel better. I found a book called “healing life’s hurts” by matthew and dennis linn – two catholic priests (or maybe Episcopalian?). I thought, well, maybe that will help me, cuz I am hurt like crazy.
The bottom line of the book was that we need to forgive in order to be healed from all the things that have hurt us. Of course with lots of explanation about how and why! So I realized that this was what I needed to do – that holding on to hate was not going to help me accept the situation and move forward. And the hating thing wasn’t really working for me ….
I don’t remember all of the process I went thru, but I do very specifically remember one day, standing in my bedroom which had a big window overlooking the parking lot (this was in my Wrightwood apartment just west of Clark St.), looking outside, and telling God that I knew I had to, but I just couldn’t forgive Ed because I knew enough about forgiveness from what I’d read and how I’d been brought up, that a person has to hold a certain amount of love for someone in order to forgive. I knew that God forgave me out of great love – and only because of his great love. I knew that forgiveness could not be born out of intense hatred. So I told God, “I can’t forgive him because if I let myself love Ed, I will do something really stupid – I don’t trust myself to love him or like him at all.” And I heard God speak to me in one of the clearest ways I’ve ever heard him, and he said “You will not be loving him out of your own heart, but you will love him through me. It’s not your own love, but my love.” "
-Glenna Ganster
I don't know if i'm there yet. There are days when it's okay and then there are days when I just want what's best for him and then there are days that I hate him and dread to walk by him. It doesn't make much sense, seeing as it was a relatively short term thing. I wish I could write the pages upon pages it would take to describe why it was hurtful, or why Zachary was hurtful. Maybe some day I will write those pages and learn something from them. And I hope that those pages include my own part, in each of these stories that exist, because we all played our parts. We are fools, even the most well intentioned loving, caring, genuine people.
Until then, I will remain somewhat a mess, and allow Jayme into that mess. And hopefully he allows me in to his.
5/14/11
[Title III]
1. He wore Burberry. I recognized the smell.
2. He talked a lot.
3. He was more nervous than I was.
4. Over-sharing: I think I'm okay with it 50% of the time.
5. We know all the same people, for some reason.
All the shit's on the table. Let's go.
I have been having the most ridiculous weekends.
2. He talked a lot.
3. He was more nervous than I was.
4. Over-sharing: I think I'm okay with it 50% of the time.
5. We know all the same people, for some reason.
All the shit's on the table. Let's go.
I have been having the most ridiculous weekends.
5/6/11
DSPS
REM Latency: Significantly above normal.
REM Duration: Reduced at 8% of total sleep.
Stage N2 and N3 sleep increased.
Diagnosis: Dysfunctions associated with sleep stages; circadian rhythm disorder.
On the upside, it's nice to discover one of those artists you'll enjoy forever.
REM Duration: Reduced at 8% of total sleep.
Stage N2 and N3 sleep increased.
Diagnosis: Dysfunctions associated with sleep stages; circadian rhythm disorder.
On the upside, it's nice to discover one of those artists you'll enjoy forever.
5/4/11
[Title]
Do you ever wonder how abusive parents/spouses/lovers feel when and if they find out what they are and what they do?
5/1/11
Exchanges
"What a terrible mistake to let go of something wonderful for something real."
-Miranda July, "No One Belongs Here More Than You"
This is so often interpreted as being about letting go of something that you deserve, settling for something less than what you could have.
It's not a mistake; it's growing up. To let go of something wonderful for something real implies what you had that was wonderful wasn't even real, no matter how bad you wanted it to be. You can search for something wonderful your whole life, and you won't find it. You only have to look in front of you to find something real.
On May 1st, 2011, I will acknowledge that this is my real life. It is not always wonderful, and the people in it are not perfect. I'm going to live it.
___________________________________
"Thank you for your honesty."
You're very welcome, sir.
-Miranda July, "No One Belongs Here More Than You"
This is so often interpreted as being about letting go of something that you deserve, settling for something less than what you could have.
It's not a mistake; it's growing up. To let go of something wonderful for something real implies what you had that was wonderful wasn't even real, no matter how bad you wanted it to be. You can search for something wonderful your whole life, and you won't find it. You only have to look in front of you to find something real.
On May 1st, 2011, I will acknowledge that this is my real life. It is not always wonderful, and the people in it are not perfect. I'm going to live it.
___________________________________
"Thank you for your honesty."
You're very welcome, sir.
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