Traipsing barefoot across the coals...

The first thing I notice are the jokes.  After the event is over and they've chosen not to attend, not to risk the walk, not to risk the fire, not to risk anything.  The twittering jokes, "careful where you step", "How's that pedicure?", "heeheehee...".  I smile, take the prodding, fighting the urge to just walk away.  I know that the joking is the curiosity, the first steps of the wanting to understand, the desire for more information.

I'm not feeling like a teacher these days.  I am, in fact, actively against offering anything that I have or that I possess to anyone in the world.  With the exception of paid services.  I'm still a healer for hire, I'm still more interested in healing loved ones than getting paid for it.  I'm also not interested in growing that list of loved ones.  I'm not interested in offering anything to anyone which might give them a reason to falsify emotions for me.  I'm done being lied to for the things that my friendship offers.  Until I am satisfied I am offering nothing.  My friendship is worth nothing.  No insights, no drama, no trust, no invites, no introductions, no home, no safe warm place in the shelter of my will. 

So much

has changed, yet nothing at all. 

I'm living in new digs.  Still gently paddling my kayak through the hot molten crazy.  Obi's breast cancer has finally, officially metastasized into her lungs - we're back to counting days.  Physically there is 10% less of me than a year ago at this time.  My family is thriving, my employment is still pretty freakin great & only getting better, I'm still mixin some of the tastiest cocktails on the planet, and my bed is the softest place ever. 

I'm finally slowing down enough to write again.  Tonight I came home, swam laps for an hour, floated in meditation for 20 mins, enjoyed a salad of fresh greens w/ balsamic over caramelized onion & blue cheese focaccia bread, and now I'm finishing this to go back to wire work & new tv shows. 

sung to the tune of My Buddy...

My Hernia, My Hernia, My Hernia and me...

Can I just tell you how much I hate my hernia.  No Nexium for over 3 weeks.  the Omeprazole OTC is not so much the best, even supplemented with other antacids as needed.  I have been puking every night this week regardless of how recently before bed I ate.  I go to sleep, I wake up and hear the voice telling me to "Run!" So I run.  Eventually I get cleaned up & back to sleep. 

I'm just exhausted.

Untouched

I remain untouched.  I am untouched. 
Inside, emotionally, where it counts.
I know a secret, your secret, everyone's secret.
You really don't care, not really...
I'm not upset by this
It doesn't touch me
I am a thing that exists in your world until you throw me away.
until you have used me for whatever you hoped to gain
A passing moment caught in its own death throes, too busy in your head to notice
I'm not really there with you
I'm untouched by you, on the inside

I lie awake at night thinking of you
not YOU, the being inside the body
but you, the relationship slot you are filling in my life right now
You to whom I say "I love you"
I mean it, just not nearly as deeply as you think, as you want to believe

You have been here, in my life, for a year or two, for months, weeks, days, hours
You aren't real to me yet
You'll tire and move on before that
I've been here for decades
I've slept more nights of my life atop graves than in a bed with you
I find more comfort in the dirt than in your arms

I am not numb, I feel
Just not where you can touch me
I remain untouched.  I am untouched. 

Tonight

I've been alone most of the weekend, blessed alone.  A weekend of meditation, fasting, spellwork, and prayers.  So much healing in this space insulated from so much.  Tonight my housemates are home, I'm curled up watching summer premiers. 

I am so happy right this moment.  Relaxed, breathing, cuddlesharks curled around me, cold breezes through the windows, alarm set.  This is just a really peaceful happy night. 

My petri dish feels full for the first time in a long time.  My altar is clean & the scent of Dragon's Blood and Frankincense is drifting about. 

Demon, I name thee Guilt.

I have a problem, I know things, I find out things, and when I do - I need to do something about them.  I cannot ignore them, I am compelled by an internal force to react to information.  I speak, I warn people, loved ones about dangers, about dangerous people, about everything I can to protect them.  To just give information, lots of information, all the information that I have in the hopes that they can make a decision on their own.  In the hopes that the responsibility I feel because of the knowledge I possess will be alleviated, that somehow by telling I am no longer responsible for people getting hurt because I knew they were getting involved with someone who is dangerous.  It doesn't work, I still feel guilty, I still feel like I could have said or done something, that I could have stopped people from getting hurt.

In my brain, my rational self knows better.  I know that I am not responsible for choices others make.

The basis of my guilt is not the incident at hand, it never is, the guilt is always there, just below the surface, waiting. 

So let me tell you why, why I feel compelled to "air dirty laundry in public", to "name names", to publicly avoid interacting with certain people and why I avoid giving money, time, and attendance to events that I know are run by sexual predators, to distance myself and those I love from people I have found to be dangerous - regardless of the reason, the explanation for the dangerous behavior - be it drugs, lack of meds, psychotic breaks, even simple they "were at a bad place in their lives".  Through intentional choices of behavior they have injured others or myself in ways that I find to be completely against my core values.  Not everyone shares the same values and standards that I do.  I know that - but I have mine and I use them and they serve me well.  Someday I might even get around to writing them all out.

Back to the story at hand:  A long time ago (over 15 years ago) in a world far far away (nowhere near herehere), when I was young, I was raped.  This is not new news, the details can be found by talking to me directly or of course if you were in my life at the time, you know this already.   I was raped, by a friend, an ex-lover, the details of which are not so important.  I survived with a little help from my friends.  I thrived with a little help from my family.  I did not pursue him, not legally, I mandated that my friends could not harm him, I chose that.  I chose it because I could not handle the dissonance between what he was and who he had become. 

I am responsible for there being no legal record of the rape.  I am responsible for choosing to allow him to live as a fully functioning man after the rape.  I chose that path.

Years later (around 5 or so) things happened, and entire series of events that some of you know & some of you may have to inquire about if you feel the need to know.  I found out that my rapist was on his way back to me, he knew where I was working, where I was living, he had a plan to get to me.  I found out that he had raped several other women in the interim years.  They looked like me, I've seen the pictures.  They looked just like me.  They were scattered all over the country, he was wanted in several states for these alleged crimes.

Upon finding this out I realized that I was responsible for their pain, I was the reason he was able to continue on his path.  I sat with that for many years, processing, the differentials between my path and the path I had allowed him to take.  I was on me, all on me.

It took those years for me to accept & deal with the fact that his path was his own.  I made choices that altered it but I am not responsible for his choice to walk it. 

I am not responsible for his other victims' pain, their lives, I know this.

But from that point forward in my life, I don't keep silent well, I don't easily keep quiet about things I feel are dangerous.  And with that we have reached full circle.  This is the story of why I am this way that I am.

Nothing quite like it

There is nothing on Earth like pulling the gag out to make one fall in love with one's own voice.  In the next week more posts will be appearing filling in the interim spaces.  In a few hours I will be officially free and under zero obligation to hold my tongue.  A great culling of the herd is due.  I am happy.

I really don't know...

I woke up today to the alarm.

Many many alarms, because I kept hitting snooze.

Finally my phone rang.

My mother.

Mom does not call me at o'dark thirty unless something is wrong.

My cousin is dead.

Josh committed suicide the night before.

I have hardly begun to process. This was unexpected, this was not predicted, this was not in the forseeable future.

It took until I was driving to work for me to even start asking questions. To ask "Was there a note?", "How did he do it?", "Who found him?", "How are his parents?", and "What is going to happen with the body?"

Josh was my older cousin on my mother's side. 3 years older. On my father's side there are a ton of cousins ranging from over 20 years older than me to 5 years younger. On my mother's side it is far less: 1 older cousin, Josh; 1 step-cousin, right about my age; 2 younger cousins the youngest 13 years younger.

I feel kinda lost right now. I keep gently weeping, haven't reached the full sobbing that is coming. I know there is not going to be a mass or big todo, if anything is done it will be done in Florida where he & his parents have been living. I also don't really know how to go about getting a handle on this right now.

I want to drink until it stops hurting for a minute, play some NWA or EazyE until the neighbors complain, then switch to Motorhead, Slayer, and Black Sabbath until my ears bleed and I can't scream anymore. I want to be driven to my favorite cemetery and weep on my favorite grave until I fall asleep to the Metallica playing in my headphones.

I want this not to be happening.

The highest compliment I have ever been paid

You are wonderful.
You are brilliant.
You are strong.

You know your truth.
You know your experiences.
You know your own mind.

Yes, there are people who feel intimidated by you, but that's their problem. You raise the bar. You are making and doing. You are moving forward. You ask questions. You expect real answers.
Small, weak, and petty people are threatened by this. They are threatened by people who are making something of their life, instead of playing in elaborate dramas.
Reality is scary as hell. You acknowledge and embrace that while others create masks and lies to pretend it's something else.

You can look at your own scars and flaws with honest eyes, which makes you braver than most. You are real, not perfect, not a false pretense, and that adds to your beauty. You the mountains, not a statue. You are alive and changing, not fixed and calculated. No artifice, no imitations, no plaster facades, you will endure.

You are loved.
You are valued.
You are cherished.

Drama-Mongers

Drama is the unnecessary creation, prolongation, and/or spreading of conflict and strife.
Monger is a dealer in a specific commodity promoting something undesirable or discreditable.

 Drama-Mongers - people who deal in the unnecessary creation, prolongation, and/or spreading of conflict and strife.

This past year I have found myself surrounded by people like this.  People who delight in the pain others are feeling, perhaps an overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude.  I reserve the schadenfreude for people I actively dislike, or people I actively don't care about.  Drama-Mongers apply this to people they call friends.  Laughing with delight every time they find out someone is hurting.  They have looked me in the eye and asked again and again about dramas going on in the community.  It took a while to realize that they weren't asking to help people, to get involved, to make things better, because they cared about people who were hurting.  They only asked because they want to be the center of attention the center of their own private dramamills, to peddle their newfound knowledge to others. 

This is not to mistake them for people actively seeking to manipulate me.  There has been plenty of those.  From people stepping in between my ex-partner and I to forward their own agendas, to people using friendship of many years to get me to believe the lies they tell me even as they contradict themselves when they think I am not in the room. 

2012 Resolutions.

I have decided to look more carefully at the people I invite into my life for 2012. The following are no longer welcome. I deeply regret having allowed them into my life and am seeking to eliminate their presence as quickly and efficiently as possible.1 Victims: not those who have been the recipient of treatment intended to victimize them - instead those who consistently regard themselves as a victim. People who marinate purposefully in a cauldron of psychological dysfunction. Who whine about the world and complain incessantly about how "put-upon" others make them feel. Those who continually place the blame for their circumstances on everyone but themselves. Blame, excuses, and victimhood are toxic, divisive, and diversionary.

I am responsible for the things I have allowed to happen over the last year & how I chose to react to them. I have reflected extensively in writing as well as in silence seeking to determine what went wrong and when. I do not blame others for the things that I have experienced emotionally. I hold myself accountable for my emotions, my actions. I do hold others accountable for their actions. Analyzing and acknowledging their actions is not the same as refusing to forgive or holding a grudge, at the same time I feel no obligation to forget their past performances, nor to believe that they are not indicative of their future behaviors.

2 Cowards: They will lie to you, lie about you, speak in passive-aggressive diatribes. They seek to hurt and belittle, to do it all behind an anonymous or an obtuse shield as they are too weak to actually face people they wish to hurt. Their own self-determined weakness is not something that I desire to be near.

I allow too many people near me who flock to me to be their voice, to say the things that they are too afraid to voice. I cannot do this anymore. These same cowards are unable to face me directly when they take issue with something I say or do. Instead, this year, they chose to attack others near me or positions I hold. This is unacceptable, I will do my best to be more aware of their capacities and intents in the future.

the end of 2011

1 year ago I was being consistently emotionally manipulated by a man in my life.

Now, I am finally free of the drama and lies and manipulations. No longer beholden to his every tantrum.

1 year ago I trusted friends.

Now, I trust so very very few people.

1 year ago I accepted people into my life w/ little question.

Now, I question every encounter, "Do I really want this person in my life & how far & do I really care if their feelings are hurt when I draw the line for me instead of them.