Want Better

New Level of Confusion

Undeniably... I find myself lost and confused. But I feel like I've hit an all new level. Things that I had found familiar and comfortable, suddenly seem rocky and unsteady. The very foundation of the home you love is no longer stable. Where do you step when all of the rock around you is loose?

I felt like in some ways I was finding myself and building... onward, upward, in a general forward motion. I was working on me. I was working on being better and stronger. I felt more confidant and loved. I thought I was doing the right, positive things. But suddenly none of that seems to be the case.

Nothing seems familiar. Nothing seems easy. Nothing seems justified or fair. Nothing really makes much sense in my life at all. Nothing seems to have a purpose. And strangely, very little even seems to have a value.

I had built myself with strength. I had grown up enough to know what I needed and wanted. So why then do I feel so much like I've slipped? I've slipped so far there is barely anything left to grab at. I don't even recognize my own happiness right now. Many of my days are filled with depression. I don't even know what I'm living for.

I imagine my feelings to be similar to those of Keanu Reeves in the first movie of The Matrix. Or maybe Tom Cruise in the Minority Report. Suddenly everything you believe to be true and real just doesn't seem to be as true or right anymore.

I keep thinking I need to sit down and write goals. Write down what I know and what makes me happy. I need to establish what it is I truly want. Establish where I want to go and who I want to take with me. Because if I only ever wander aimlessly, I can never really hope to be successful at... whatever it is I haven't established... right?

Compounded... I had one of the roughest sessions with my current therapist that I've ever had with any. I already felt lost. But everything she said seemed to point me further into a sense of loss and personal failure.

"Why stay with her?", a few people have asked... and I'm not entirely sure what to say. Mainly because I don't think at this current state of depression and confusion I could handle going it without some sense of theraputic guidance. I think the only session that has ever hurt this much before was when my previous therapist told me she was moving away. But that wasn't personal, so despite the hurt I felt, as an intellectual human being... I could move past it.

Maybe she's sick of me? Maybe I just really am that big of a failure at picking myself up? Maybe I just focus too much on my strengths that I build myself into a false sense of security? Maybe she was trying to show me tough love? Maybe she felt I was being too niave?

Normally I'd take my confusion to her and she'd

help me find myself... find my own direction. But now I don't even know where to go. I didn't know what to do or how to fix it when I walked into her office. And now the image has been pushed back even further... not only do I see the center mass of chaos, I see the surrounding edges melting into the same messiness.

Right now, nothing feels right... and surely nothing feels safe. I'm unhappy with everything I am and everything I know. I want to fix it, but when all of what you see is a black mess... where do you start? I'd rip off the page and get a new damn sheet of paper. I don't want this one anymore. But what do I do when I don't want this life anymore?

Crushed

I feel lost. I know this isn’t a new feeling... but it is where I am.

I feel stuck in an in-between. I’m trying to let go of something… and trying to grab a hold of something. I’m trying to learn new things... while still impressing upon the old. I’m trying to be happy... and embrace new power and temptations without submerging in the moment.

All of me is struggling. Little me, big me, old me, and new me. I want to be better. And yet, I look up sometimes and I see all the weaknesses I always had. I see all the struggles I thought I’d overcome. I want to be strong enough to walk away. Not just walk away because I need to, but to walk away because I fucking can... and that knowledge is my power.

It’s like I just flung my body into the deepest water I could find. And maybe... I'm drowning.

At twenty-seven... I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever be the person I want to be. Happy, successful, in love, with a family, and confidence… real confidence... for once in my life. Not this bullshit I spew to make them believe or potentially even fool myself into believing. But for once, whole, sincere knowledge of my value.

My insides feel crushed today, paralyzed by emotions I just don’t want. I never know when it is safe to trust myself... let alone all the others.

I open so completely... I open myself to the pain. When will I learn. Learn to stop letting myself be hurt and choked by my own saliva. Crushed by my own desire for more.

Like everytime I cross the road and I envision myself being struck by a car. I know what it really is, I know it is my own dangerous thoughts... and I allow myself to cross. It's just my imagination. It's all in my poisonous fucking head. All this fear. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I'm sick of holding back. I'm sick of being the person with logic.

What if I let go? Fuck... what kind of bullshit am I trying to spin? I could never fucking let go!! Wrapped up tighter than a balloon string... I could never be free like that. Instead... I just hurt. Instead... I am crushed.

Kind Hearts So Far Away

I moved around a lot growing up.  Every time I would start to feel at home in my home something would change.  A parent would dream of greener pastures and I was uprooted and moved.  There were small moves, just up the road, but most of them were big.  From city to city and from state to state.

Every new home we had, I'd find a new friend.  I don't even remember how I did it half the time.  I guess I was brave.  I'd find someone and the conversation would start and just grow from there. 

I latched quickly.  I invested myself in them. I loved them completely.  Where they went, I went.  What they wanted, I wanted them to have.  Any fears they had, I wanted to squash.  Any dreams they had, I wanted to help them achieve. 

... and then we'd move again.  So, here I am at twenty-seven years old and I have friends everywhere.  But worse... I don't have a friend here.

As this person that lived to be a part of others' lives, having so little contact breaks my heart.  Lately this pain is at a head. 

This pain is probably so prevelant because in the last two years I've lost (physical proxmity with) three of the most special women I've ever had the pleasure of knowing in my life.  The roommate who became like a sister to me the day she moved in, moved back south.  An old coworker who had become a close friend moved back west.

But the hardest of all has been the loss of my cousin, my best friend.  She was my snuggle, cuddle buddy.  She was a sweet smile, soft heart, and warmth in my soul everyday.  Strong, smart, loving, just purely amazing.  I miss her.  ... she moved to find work because of this shitty ass economy.

Everyday I think about it, it breaks my heart a little more.  It hurts to miss all my friends so much.  And it hurts to feel so alone here, without any of them.  It's been a hard couple of years.  I want them back.

I don't even feel like I know how to make friends anymore.  To feel so busy and be surrounded by so many people and to feel lonely.  It's hard.

I want to bring all these girls back and be surrounded by all the amazing love and kindness our friendships were born from. My heart aches. I miss these beautiful, amazing women that I got to know when I was growing up.

Could It Be That Simple?

I’ve decided I must be somewhere stuck in the in-between of relationship end and single person. I’m resolved to the fact that this will indeed end. Somehow, some way, some day… this will end. Physically I’m still with this person. I see him daily, we share a bed, and his touch still warms me. But mentally and emotionally I just want to complete the separation.


I want peace from something that was and won’t continue. Emotionally, I am drained of all possible effort… hope and I know better now. I know we are past effort. But that does not stop the piece of me that always wants to fix, the piece of me that lives to please my other… from wanting.

I care how he sleeps, that he feels contented, that he doesn’t hurt. But in all my cares I am reminded of the simple fact that makes this relationship moot. … He does not care. He simply is not capable of caring, empathizing, or understanding.

So, in front of me it lives… breathes, eats, thinks, touches, and yearns… but inside of me it just hurts. An emptiness that has swallowed the last three years of my life. A picture that hung on my wall and has now been taken down to leave an awkward nail imbedded in my wall.

I long to hang something new. I want to create my path to the life I deserve. Because for the last few years, with him, it hasn’t really been a life at all… just the physical act of living.

God, it hurts to push for this emptiness knowing how much I have loved him. How much I have sacrificed while staying with him… having gone back to him… and loving him and his family as my own. Completely unbeknownst to him... because I think in his eyes I am useless, selfish, uncontrolled chaos. But really that’s just my impression of his thoughts because communication is so far from his ability.

To be in love with someone who is emotionally unavailable is to be suffocated by the very breath you need to survive. I prayed that it would become breathable, but unless it would be willing and take action to change it merely would not be breathable. Hope alone does not will something to be… no matter how hard you or I try.

It took me almost three years to recognize this. It took me almost three years to give up hope. It took almost three years of my life away. Life is far too short to be handing my years away.

I want to be loved, hell, I want to be liked! I deserve these things. I can give so much. I love so completely. I communicate honestly, openly, regularly. I deserve someone who wants to love and be emotionally available to me. It’s that simple.

Emotional availability… could it be that simple? Yes, yes… I think it is. I can do this. I’m going to get there. Because I can’t have kids until I’m there. I want kids…

Lost and Not Found

I woke up but I’m not sure why. Like normal I’m floating in a fucking chasm on a seemingly endless journey to nowhere. I want an end point to work towards. I want a past to savor. And I want a present that makes each day worth waking for.

I guess I should start by telling you I just read all of the Shades of Gray trilogy, within a week. I really loved it. I loved that in my imagination she could be plain-Jane as opposed to what we will see as soon as she is casted for the to-be movie. I was in love with all of it. At first I was nervous for her, Ana, but quite quickly I just became engrossed in all of it.

Here I am, post-shades and I’m lost. I miss the characters. I’m desperate to know how they are. I’m desperate to enjoy their lives and see that it all works out.

I’m desperate to be alive like that. Is reality like that? Do men that hold your hand, watch you breathe while you sleep, protect, and cherish you really exist? Someone so selfless and so in love that they would give up their heart just to have yours back in return?

This isn’t just about finding the right love, because god knows and I know that I don’t have him. This is about being alive and belonging. Fitting within yourself, your home, your work, your body… everywhere you go. Belonging to something, feeling a part of something.

I feel so lost. I guess I’m almost to the point where I don’t even think I’ll be found. Is that why I can’t push him away?

I just want to be found.

The Warmth

There may be something about the slow sizzle of spring that makes me so weak. We talk about spring fever in an escence of teasing desire, but what it really truly means has nothing to do with being a teenager in love.

This warmth flows over my body and I long to be laying on a blanket in the grass beside you. I long to feel heat radiating from your body encompassing my desire with one ebb of air.

I want to reach out and touch you. I want to listen to your heartbeat with my ear pressed firmly to your chest. I want to run my fingers over the soft skin on your arms. To feel the dimple of your elbow and the kiss of sweat on the inside of it. To run my fingers through your hair and watch your eyes droop at the soothing sensation.

So many things about my desires just don't fit. So much of who I am just doesn't work with us. But no matter the ill-fit of our lives, I still want to breathe you.

I wish I could change it. You, me, us... but I can't. Nothing of this is changeable. This has all proven too much. We touch for what... habit, lust, fear, regret?

So here I am wishing it could be like that again. Here I am wishing to embrace all the warmth that is embracing me this season. I miss you. It hurts inside knowing that I chose this. I chose to come back to this stuckness.

I read back on the things I've had, the people I've met, the way we touched. It makes me sore. I want to be alive. I want to feel. To be the passionate person I was born to be and embraced for all that I bring to this relationship.

Someday I will picnic again. Someday I will lay beside a man that loves me for me. Someday I will be brave enough to walk away and find what I deserve. But until then this warmth will continue to melt me.

Who's Voice?

I try to understand the voice I hear, but it is garbled. There are sounds and thoughts of emphasis that pull at me and grab my attention, but more often than not I just don't understand that voice.

The new me is so many people all at once... mother, daughter, lover, care-taker, friend, nurse, gardener, home owner, employee, creator, and confidante. With all these voices bouncing around my head, the hum of self barely exists.

Probably the most pressing at the moment is that I'm the rather new mother of a teenage boy. Nowadays, teens have enough pain and emotion to process for even the very best birth parent to handle; but I'm not even that. And to top it off, I'm only ten years older than my kid.

I love this child... I hurt when he hurts... I feel when he feels. I want to hold him and protect him but the little shit is bigger than I am, by about a foot! I'm such a huggy, lovey person but with this relationship I have to figure out new boundaries. I have to be strong where I would normally be weak. I have to smile where I would normally cry. This tests me to the core, but I can't help it, because I love him and I will continue to support him.

When everything around me feels such a wreck, I know that I have to be stable. I have to be the strength to hold him up when he feels like diving under. I'm tired beyond tired. I drive out of my way by 45 minutes to take him to school every morning and to pick him up every evening. But no matter how complex my life or surroundings could be, I find strength... for him.

I didn't raise him from birth so I didn't instill in him the values I find of the utmost importance. Probably the most difficult we struggle with is lying. Down to my deepest bone I believe in honesty. I live as true and forthright as I can bare to be. And he lies. He lies so much I'm not sure what to believe. I want to trust him, believe him, support him... but how do you support something when you don't even know that it's real?

I've given him blind faith and been led astray. I want to teach him better. I keep thinking if he just trusts me enough he'll stop lying,... but I ultimately don't know that. One major aspect of raising a teen is knowing that they make their own decisions, and merely attempting to shape their choices without force.

With all of these new aspects in my life, each day is tiring. I have all these voices screaming at me to be this or to be that. When each day all I want to be is me... better and better, me. Why can't I just hear me?  Maybe I could be stronger if I could just hear my voice a little bit more.