words

Marks

I see the marks, feel the pain from the marks. Marks that I never thought I would have. No one would believe that I would have these marks. I still can’t believe I have these marks. I never thought I would understand the marks I see on others. I now understand. I understand the extreme mental anguish and despair that evoke the marks. I always thought I could handle it, handle my emotional pain. I never thought it could get worse. It got worse.

Was that day my rock bottom? I keep thinking about that day. I see it clearly; I hear it clearly. I remember. I remember fear, hurt, regret, disappointment, pain, embarrassment, despair, hopelessness. What I wanted was the darkness. The darkness of nothing. Was that the answer? Nothing? I wondered how long I would need the darkness; need the nothingness to last. Would it be for an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year? Would it be forever? Should it be forever? What would it be like, the darkness? Would it be like floating? Seeing everyone I loved, but I can’t get to them? Would I feel nothing? Would I feel the people I loved? Did the marks keep me from darkness, from nothingness? Maybe the marks saved me in some fucked up way. Did they?

It was a week ago that the marks showed up on my body. A week is not enough time to answer all the questions or figure out all the answers. Some days, waking up is the best I can offer. Other days, I want to conquer the world and give a big fuck you to all those judging me for trying to figure out my world. Why am I not allowed to be me, EVER? Always dancing the line between acceptable and hearing the disappointed tsk. Live for me, live for them. Live for me, lose them. Live for them, lose me. Why are there only two options?

Fuck. Do you see? This is where the marks come from. The exasperation, the desperateness, the hopelessness. My marks are mine. I own them, I understand them. I needed my marks.

The Dance

How long have we been dancing the dance? Do you remember? I think the real dancing started about four years ago. To be fair and completely honest, the dancing was always there. It was in the background at times, but it was always there.

You do know the dancing I’m talking about, right? It’s what has become our traditional relationship dance. I think we unknowingly started this dance; it wasn’t intentional. We did what we needed to do to, right? Is that how you remember the dance starting? There were times family interfered with our relationship. We each pacified the other. I know I felt stuck in the middle and I’m sure you did as well. Looking back, I wish we would have had the ability to cope with the interference and stop the dancing. But we danced around the problems, hoping they would just disappear. While it wasn’t always looming over our shoulders, the dancing was still happening in the background; waiting for a weak moment to speed up the tempo, to make one of us feel weak, vulnerable, unsettled. We did the best we could, right?

I think there was a time, and it probably was about four years ago, where the dancing pattern we are in now started. I would talk to you about needing help with decisions, kids, money, day to day stuff. I would talk, you would listen. I would get frustrated and stop talking. You waited me out, at least that’s how I felt/feel. You waited until I could no longer take the awkward silence, the no talking. I would break my silence, and everything would eventually go back to our normal dancing. It’s odd now that I think about it. I couldn’t stand living in the awkward silence, so I broke. But there was still silence, just a different kind of silence. It was the silent song of our dance. Our dancing pattern happened when, like every three or six months? The dance always started and ended the same way. I feel like I tried over and over again. Do you feel that way? Like you tried over and over again? I guess it doesn’t matter.

We are still dancing. Now we dance around each other. We dance around talking, touching, feeling. What happens when the dance ends? What happens when one of us stops dancing? What if it’s you? What if it’s me? Does it look different or feel different?

Do we continue to live in the comfortable uncomfortableness that surrounds us daily because living in the comfortable uncomfortableness is easier than moving our lives into the unknown uncomfortableness. Is that anyway to live? How do we continue to avoid what is right in front of our faces?

I feel like you are living in the shadows of the three wise monkeys; see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. If you turn a blind eye to what is happening to us, you don’t have to worry about anything. If you refuse to hear what I am saying over and over, you don’t have to worry about anything. If you refuse to speak to me about what is happening to us, you don’t have to worry about anything.

But I have a question.

What happens when one of us steps off the dance floor?

Silence

The silence is deafening. Do you hear it?

The silence screams the truth. Do you hear it?

The silence speaks what I can’t. Do you hear it?

The silence speaks what you can’t. Do you hear it?

The silence speaks because we won’t. Do you hear it?

The silence is calling us. Do you hear it?

The silence is a friend telling me to stay. Do you hear it?

The silence is a friend telling me to go. Do you hear it?

The silence is telling you something. What do you hear?

Randomness

I noticed something about a week ago, regarding my blog. I do have followers (and I thank you for that). I look at my followers’ blogs and I follow quite a few. Very interesting stuff to read. I appreciate the different ideas, opinions. There are a lot of followers who are some type of…..fixer. That is the only word I can come up with at the moment. They are health/wellness bloggers, relationship bloggers, romance advisor’s – you get the drift. My wondering mind wants to know if those followers are hoping to maybe, fix me? Maybe get a new client? I don’t know. I am cynical, so I question everything. I do not mean any offense at all – HONEST! Or did they read my stuff and think “Holy Mother of God! This person is fucked up! Send help immediately!” Maybe they can use me as an example?

I think it would be cool to have a back and forth with people who follow me. Ask me a question, make a comment. It’s cool. Let’s have a discussion. Ya know?

So, I do have a question for the people in long term relationships. Do you talk to each other? What do you talk about? If you go out to a local watering hole. Do you sit and engage with others around you? Do you talk with your partner about anything? What do you talk about? Or do you sit in some type of comfortably uncomfortable silence? Is there a point and time where the talking just stops? Is that just the natural progression of a long-term relationship? I’m not a quiet person. What happens when the local watering hole doesn’t provide the same stimulation? Are you able to sit and talk endlessly with your partner? I’m totally serious. I want to hear what people have to say, what you think, what you do in your relationship. Cause when you boil it all down, what should be at the core of your long-term relationship? Love, communication, understanding, compatibility…………what is it? What do you think?

What do you see?

What do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?

Who do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?

Tell me the good, the bad and the ugly. Here I am. No filter, no make-up. Just me, raw and vulnerable. Opening to you. What will you do with this?

I wonder if you see what I see. Do you only see what I want you to see? Do you see me? ME!

There are so many words I want to hear, so many truths I want to hear. The truth can be messy, hurtful, powerful. It can open doors and it can close doors.

Who do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?

What do you see when you look at me? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?

What do you see?

BOOK

Karma – A Yogi’s Guide to Crafting Your Destiny

I’m on page 5 of 257 and I think everyone should read this book.

That is all.

There are no rules

I love reading. I love reading a phrase that speaks to me. I feel like I’m the first person to truly get what the writer was trying to make the reader see, or feel, or experience. There is a phrase I read recently that I think about all the time.