The opening act.

So, I’ve made some decisions and plans lately. Not your average, off the cuff kind of things. Not the fleeting things that are fairly inconsequential or lacking in substance. The huge ones. The ones that change everything. To make it just a little clearer than mud, they are the kind that leaves me with the only two things in my life that are constant, remaining. Everything else…nada.

In time, I’ll tell you about them all, as they inspire me to write, to feel, or to vent. For now, let’s just say they are monumentally life changing, and leave it at that.
However there is one catch…

To truly change and move forward, one must let go of what was, to embrace what is, and what will be, or can be. We need to rid ourselves of not only ‘things’, but the ‘things’ our minds also keep. We need to become versed in letting go of the past and things that are bad for us. The things that lingered and stopped us from living the life we deserved, wanted or needed to. Especially the toxic things, or fabrics made of lies.

That’s one of the hardest things in the world to do, for any living soul, that has an ounce of love or compassion in their bones. It is made easier with anger, hurt and pain. It is made easier when you see certain ‘truths’ for the lies that they are, and it is made easier when you start admitting your own self worth and desires.

You see…love is one of the strongest things there is, a force to be reckoned with. It can fix broken things. It is in everything. But the catch is, some people use it, twist it, and then rely on it to save them from consequence. But if you abuse it, disregard it…when it is gone…what can save you then?

So, I will be, moving forward that is. Because everything in my life…it is my story to tell, and the time seems just about right to do that.

I’m guessing that most of you are not going to want to miss this, so you might want to keep an eye out for the next blog. I have been accused of often being vague, misleading (in a harmless way), unfocused and have been told I can digress. This post, will not be one of those. It might be long and difficult to digest…but life often is. It’s really not the happy stroll along the waterfront that you think it’s going to be.

Til then Kids. Get your beauty sleep.
Cheers,
V

 

The other C word

When life gets hurtful, people say there are no words. There are always words…the real problem, is that some cannot put aside their ego or selfishness long enough, or are not strong or honest enough to say them. Because words make how you feel into reality. Words like Love, sorry, promise, loyal, hurt or goodbye. They put a part of you out there in the world in some way, to be acknowledged in some way, to be seen. Some people are not real enough, to use words.

If there was a word for this, what I feel now, above all others, it would be conflict. It was even a conflict, as to whether or not to write here, yet, or ever again. Because I currently have little tolerance for anyone or anything. I have depleted people skills other than wanting near everyone to just fuck off and leave me to my own devices, and no desire to share personal feeling with anyone, let alone that one person. I can likely rest safely assured however, that he will not read this, and has happily turned away, seemingly secure in the knowledge, that he never has to set eye on me, my writings, or anything else to do with me ever again. And I have accepted that is what he wants. I have accepted many things in that regard.

Me however, I am caught/torn in this intense situation. A cocoon if you will. It is this painfully real transformation of one thing into another. A myriad of truth and painful realisations.

It’s like piecing this puzzle together, as as it all slides into place a light comes on, and then the ground drops from beneath your feet. All you feel is falling, and after a while you stop fighting it…

It’s not just feeling down. It’s an intense feeling–as intense as any you’ve ever felt–of betrayal, profound and irredeemable sadness, and despair. It bounces between needing and not wanting.

It has a lot of different feels, and lack thereof. The common factor, is that it all feels so fucking hard to do. Every little thing. Talking, eating, moving…and then you go to sleep (if at all possible), wake up, and it’s the same all over again. It takes the form of anger, irritability, resentment, hurt or just a deep chasm of emptiness. It is a near complete lack of sensory input.

It has been a calm rational thought ‘I should kill myself’ or ‘I am nothing’ and it didn’t even feel like sadness. It can be very cognitive, like -the world is an evil place, and people are heartless. You just feel the light drain from your eyes, and the eyes drain from your smile, and wonder if anything can ever bring it back.

Then, in stark contrast, there is this opposing desire to be strong and overcome. There is a passion to prove, that if I can make it through a minute, a day, and a week, then there is hope to survive another yet. And then defiance, opportunity, plans and other things creep in and push, whisper, push…to keep going. To do better. That there is more.

So, here’s where it changes, just one last time. Just as others have made choices, so have I. Only these ones are honest, resolute, progressive and some, concrete.

They are selfishly only for me, and surging with primitive desire to not only survive, but succeed. They are raw, spontaneous, laden with fear, anticipation and change, but I’m making them anyway. I can no longer stand still. Because if I do…I won’t make it. I can’t just exist any more.
Hence, I’m not sure what you all do for shits and giggles on a Friday, but I’m pretty sure it’s not diagrammatic reasoning, cognitive ability, personality factoring, verbal aptitude, inductive reasoning, psychometric and situational judgement testing. But today that has been my program, and a doorway to other things. Out of this closed dark room in my head and my house, drapes pulled shut.

I have this world of possibilities and new options in front of me, and I have to piece it all together again, but I will, because I can. I have done this before, clawed my way out of the dark…it sharpened my nails.

This time the hole is darker, deeper, and full of the broken bones of promises with debris of scattered dreams…but this time I know which way is up. And I will do it the only way I have ever done anything. Alone.
I just…need a minute.

Always know which direction you’re heading in Kids.
V