Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Enjoy the Silence

True silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment. ~William Penn

A funny thing about our Higher Selves. Sometimes, they need to physically give us a swift kick in our spiritual ass to see what is good for us. Somehow, I managed to end up with pneumonia. I was actually shocked when I was told this by my doctor. I went to her office solely to renew prescriptions. I did complain I was feeling more tense than usual but blamed it on too much work and not enough daylight. Stupid me, I thought she would just up my Prozac or write another prescription for Xanax. After listening to my lungs she ordered an x-ray and blood work. Both confirmed that my lungs were screaming.


Now that I have been forced in to bed rest, I have had enough time and solitude to see what I was doing for the past several months. I was working and staying out of the house in fear of being depressed. The funny thing is, now that I have been home alone for three days straight, it seems exactly the opposite happened. I regained my love of silence and solitude. I would only drag myself out of bed to feed the cats and move to the sofa where I would sit with a cup of tea and watch the birds and the falling autumn leaves fly outside my window.I never turned on my television and only occasionally checked my emails.The battery went dead on my crackberry and I am yet to charge it. Friends are actually calling my home line to check in. I would rasp out an "I'm OK" and immediately get off the phone. I just wanted quiet.

When I wasn't sleeping, I sat in bed or on the sofa, listening. What I heard for the first time in months was peaceful murmurings in my head.I would sit and look around at my surroundings. I was reminded of what I like about my home. I have surrounded myself with items and photos of things that are special to me. I forgot how much stuff I have accumulated over the years. Little finds in thrift shops or in my travels with the horse shows. Actual bits and pieces of equipment or items that just have sentimental value only to me. The vibration in my little place has started to shift.I started to feel the good energy come back from those items and feel comfort in being home.

For the first time since Prick's latest arrest, I left my storm door open for the cats to sit and watch the squirrels. Even though the door has a lock I still had not felt safe enough to not have the heavy steel door with three locks bolted when I was home alone. It was nice to sit and feel the sunlight spill in to my living room through the glass storm door and watch the cats follow the sunbeam as it moved across the hallway throughout the day.Such a small victory to some but it was huge for me. That glass door represented a lot.It was as if my Light came back all around. Even after the sun set I left it open while I sat on the sofa reading a book. My neighbors pass by while walking their dogs and I can glance outside And see that they all have their heavy steel doors open. I had forgotten that openness of my neighbors. When the weather is nice we don't feel the need to shut each other out. I was so glad to be reminded of another reason why I have chosen to stay where I am.


It took a couple of days but I think I finally felt like something has started to heal. Along with my lungs, it was my heart. It was worth that swift kick from my Higher Self.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

There's Got to be a Morning After (reposted)

There's Got to be a Morning After
I had originally wrote this draft in August of 2008 but never posted it. So often things are too painful at the time for me to actually hit the post button. I am glad I write. It really helps a year and a half later for me to see how far I have come since writing this. Tonight is the interview with Rihanna about her assault from Chris Brown. The excerpts I have seen so far have brought up some of these memories. So, I am choosing to just post this without editing it. Sometimes it is better to see it the way it was the first time around.

Once again, it is more telling that there is a huge gap since my last entry. Usually, when I am on vacation, I'll write like a crazy woman. This is the first of anything besides an email or two. I haven't even written much in my journal. Most entries start with the word exhausted.

I had written before about the little house here in Ship Bottom that I am renting for the week. It is the same house that I had rented for Prick and I, a year ago. I ended up coming here alone after Prick's arrest for assaulting me. While he was in jail, I came to beach and found out my internal sentence had begun serving it's own jail time.

I know I have blabbed a lot about the legal aftermath between Prick and I. What I hadn't realized until I came and sat in this same tiny cottage by the Atlantic Ocean, is how very emotionally broken I had already become before the assault. I was so numb from the mind fuck, that I had no idea until his toxic energy was away from me, how much damage was already there.

So,I knew I had to come back to the same place again this year. The full circle of a shitty year. I should point out that as crappy as I have felt at times, this was an amazing year of healing. Thanks to the legal issues and the insurance hell in dealing with a lump in my breast, I grew a pair of balls along the way. When you are single and have little parental support, you either sink or swim. Like the ill-fated Poseidon, I went belly up and learned to crawl through the bottom to get to the top. (do you have that crappy Maureen McGovern theme song in your head now?)heehee. I love to do that. Get a crappy 70s song stuck in someone else's head.
So,irony that last year I picked the one borough in Long Beach Island that I never rented in before. Ship Bottom was aptly named after an overturned shipwreck washed up on it's beaches and a lone woman was rescued from the hull. I had no idea how the town got it's name until I came here alone, last year. I found a book about the island that explained all of it's history. Ship Bottom was a perfect place to come alone, overturned and wrecked.
Location,location,location. I am the third house from the beach and as I type I am watching a stormy sunrise outside.It stormed in the early hours and I know if my sister were here with me,she would be glued to the window watching the forks of lightening over the water and listening with electric glee at the wind howling and slamming against my house.
Mornings like this, I can see why so many boats have wrecked on LBI's shores. The water is white capped and wild. I can see that from here at my kitchen table. Location,location,location.
The weather this week has been outstanding. Last year it took me over four hours to drive what usually takes about two and a half. It was pouring rain outside and I was pouring tears the whole way. My boss called me just as I was driving over the causeway on to the island, to see how I was. All I could do was wail,"I should of worked today and came after hours...and there's LIGHTENING!!!!" I think he was so proud of himself that he finally got me to see his point of view of all work before any play. Personally, the crappy weather mirrored my internal storm.
It ended up raining two more of the days later in the week and I lost two days to court proceedings that I had to come home for. One of which was taking out the restraining order when I realized that changing my phone number would not be enough to keep Prick's poison away from me.
The first sunny day was so hot and the beach was full of green head flies. I sat in the air conditioned house,curled up in a fetal position after downing half a bottle of Vox to myself for lunch.
I had spent most of my relationship with Prick sober. Attending Al Anon meetings, while he was in an AA meeting. I felt that it was my right to finally get so stinking drunk after supporting someone who never could stay sober more than eight weeks.My drunken confessions came when my best friend called having no idea what had happened other than what I told her before leaving the shore. "I am going alone. I broke up with Prick," was all I had told her. She hated him almost immediately after I started dating him.I knew that even though she was making sympathetic noises she was glad I seemed to have finally broken it off for good. She knew there would be no way I would go away alone if I wasn't final in my decision.
Like most women in abusive relationships, I immediately took the defense and began withholding all info. Covering up for him was really my way of covering up for myself. It was when I was stinking drunk that I finally told my best friend what had really happened. I then said the worst thing a best friend can say.
"I guess you would be happy to say I told you so."
I could tell from the silence on the other end of the receiver that she had no such thoughts other than wanting her friend to stop letting someone hurt her anymore. I was immediately ashamed.
What an awful thing to say to the one person who has always been there for me. Prick was one of many bad relationships. Mich was the one person who could always help me find the humor in my bad choices after the fact. She was the one who had sat with me in the windowsill of our high school because my sophomoric teen crush of a senior boy had asked a junior to his prom. The said junior, was a track star. Even before Tanya Harding, it was Mich who offered the services of her dad's mafia family to break this girl's knee caps. The fact that Mich can't kill a fly made this incredibly funny. Our long term friendship was sealed.
I thought of how far we had come as she held my hand at Prick's arraignment. She accompanied me to the Domestic Violence Center and stayed with me in the halls of the court house for the four hours we had to wait for the temporary emergency restrain order. No wonder so many women don't take one out or follow through for the permanent one.
Most people who didn't know me very well were stunned when I went away by myself. My closest friendds and family knew it was what I needed. I had to have only my own voice screaming inside my head to figure out what the hell just happened to me. I needed to do it in the one place in the world I love more than a barn.
After the Vox and phone call I finally steeled myself up to examine the bruises that were on my back and thighs. Most were hidden in places that only myself and later Mich who was with my attorney when she photographed them the next day for evidence. The bruise on my hip and butt were the worst. Luckily, boy short, tankini bathing suits were in fashion last summer. There was enough material to cover the deep blood bruises. I sat on the beach nursing the pulled muscles in my neck and back. I could care less how awful I must of looked. I just knew how awful I felt. It would take two months for the deeper bruises to finally fade away. The day I saw that there was only a shadow left where they once were black and blue, gave me hope that my heart could also heal.
Posted by Evanesco at 5:48 AM August 2008

Friday, November 6, 2009

Take Another Trip Around the Sun

I have to start out this blog by telling my emailers that I loved your responses to the sexting blog. I literally was laughing out loud at some of your own booty call stories...or lack of...lol. It is a strange world out there and it doesn't seem to fade any with age. I wonder if I will be one of those creaky old ladies in the nursing home who is still trying to figure out what some 45 year old man wants from me? I'm sure it still won't be for my money. I am also pretty certain that I will still be bitching about the same old games people play, only now with wheelchairs and oxygen.

The past month was a blur of parties, dinners, horse events and even a Flyers hockey game that included a day of tailgating with crazy Phillies fans beforehand. To say this month was a blast would be an understatement. In between great fun with my friends, who I adore, I found myself back in a funk. I am fine if I am out of my house but as soon as night falls and I am alone at home, the black cloud descends. I have found myself on weeknights staying out at the barn until the latest possible hour.

Today was the first day of my "stay-cation." Work at both of my jobs had been non-stop busy for the past two months. This week had finally slowed down enough for me to be brave enough to ask my boss at the salon for a couple days off. I was pleasantly surprised when he complied. Originally, I was going to go to Penn State to see friends. Skinny was even going with his own crew. I had a giggle at the thought of all of my gay boyfriends at PSU hanging out with his overly male-hetero group of football frenzied, friends. I decided last week it would be a wiser choice after this month of over-partying to have a weekend of some solitude and dry out my liver. Penn State is not exactly the sort of town to stay sober in.

I spent this first day just trying to get my closet sorted out. I have lost enough weight to know it is time to let go of the larger clothes. I took them over to The Domestic Violence Center, along with a box of newly bought toiletries and samples of hair products from our salon. It just helps me to feel like I give back to the one place that has helped me so much these past couple years. It is hard to believe I just typed that: a couple years. I know the only reason I have had to still rely on them is because Prick keeps dragging me back there with court hearings over the stalking issue. As hard as I try, I still find myself feeling at times, that I am unable to cope with my own demons from this issue. I still have the nightmares, the panic attacks and the depression. I know it is a hell of a lot better than it was two years ago but I get discouraged that it never seems to go completely away.

Anyhoo, I plan to spend the rest of my stay-cation close to home. I plan to clean out some scary clowns that have been lurking under my bed and in the dark corners of my closets. I think there might even be one in the closet, under my stairs. Bastard needs to go! I found the best way to clown removal is to find music of hope. They hate that shit. The rest will be catching up with some reading and writing, hanging out at the barn and dinner with friends. When I am here at home and feeling the black cloud descending or the scratching claws of scary things, I will sing the mantra; hang on world,'cause I'm not jumping off.



Artist: R.E.M.
Album: Around the Sun
Title: Around the Sun

I want the sun to shine on me
I want the truth to set me free
I wish the followers would lead
with a voice so strong it could knock me to my knees

Hold on world 'cause you don't know what's coming
Hold on world 'cause I'm not jumping off
Hold onto this boy a little longer
Take another trip around the sun

If I jumped into the ocean to believe
If I climbed a mountain would I have to reach?
Do I even dare to speak?--to dream?--believe?
Give me a voice so strong
I can question what I have seen

Hold on world 'cause you don't know what's coming
Hold on world 'cause I'm not jumping off
Hold onto this boy a little longer
Take another trip around the sun

Around the sun
Around the sun
Around the sun
Let my dreams set me free.
Believe. believe.
Now now now now now now