Garden Variety

Sabotage.  It's probably a gift for me.  On a sub-conscious level, I will realize I'm doing well or happy and for whatever reason, I self-sabotage.

Hard questions, sometimes render difficult and impossible answers.  I find it's very easy for me to love people.  I fall in love so easily.  I find all kinds of things to fall in love with about people.  Even people I know I'll never meet.  God forbid I actually meet one.  And if or when someone wants to return that love to me, I don't know what to do - I feel like my soul and my heart flee immediately and I am simply unable to accept that love.  I push people away, I piss them off and I am very, very good at it.  Somehow in the process of learning about them, I've also learned their buttons.  I am not proud of this, but it's become second nature.  A coping mechanism, if you will.  It's a very ugly thing when it rears its head or bubbles to the surface.  And how awful for those that want to love me.  And believe me I do mourn the loss of that love, I beat myself up and pray and wish that they won't cut me out of their life.  Perhaps to give me a second chance.  So far, no one has, no one probably ever will.  Why would they want to open themselves up again for me to tear them down?  I don't believe that anyone will ever want to break down this wall.  And for as much as I'd like to break it down myself, I don't know how to do that, and allow people in and let them love me. 

I could say, they'll never understand the things I've been through.  How once I was able to be loved so easily and the people I trusted broke my heart again and again.  And how I kept trying and my heart just stopped and I just couldn't do it anymore.  I could say this started at a very early age.  Maybe that means there's very little hope, maybe it means someone will know exactly how to help me.  I don't know. 

It's a bit unnerving when someone can diagnose you in the matter of a few minutes.  I want so much to be loved, in fact, I believe it's the single biggest thing I want and need in my life, yet - I have no idea how to let someone love me.  I'm so terrified of letting someone in, letting my guard down and my heart being broken again that - I potentially drive away people that might have given this so freely to me.  I've turned them off to me, I've hurt them and I don't know how to fix it.  What's worse - I'll never seek treatment.  I don't have healthcare, let alone mental healthcare.  And while those are excuses, I will continue to cling to them.  I'm trying desperately to understand the things I don't like about myself and to love them and accept them. 

This isn't small.  This is epic!  I know recognizing when I do this is crucial to my healing and also to my not hurting the people that love and care for me.  The problem is, once I've done it - and it doesn't matter how awesome or wonderful I am or was or might be beyond that moment - I've just lost someone dear to me that I really care about.  And sadly all I can do is offer my apologies and hope they will still love me and that I will allow them to love me. 

I guess the bigger question is, why am I so reluctant to let someone love me. 
 

Random Incomplete Thoughts....

As a writer - and I don't know that I actually qualify as a writer, I have no degree, I have no real experience - just this blog and a ton of journals that I've been writing, through the years.  Oh and some memoirs to my kids, though I'm not sure they'll find them of any interest.   I pour myself into my posts, absolutely drowning you in my random incomplete thoughts and horrible grasp of the English language and improper use of grammar, (if my English or Literature teachers read this - there would be hell to pay - lots of red lines and suggestive words) but I'd like to believe the content is sometimes real and raw and some of you might actually enjoy it.  (see - a full run-on sentence)

I have a restless mind, I overthink everything and then on the other end of the spectrum, I don't put much thought into the words that seem to physically manifest themselves when leaving my lips.  Writing, for me, is a very prudent and tactful way to express myself.  Not to mention, it has cathartic value that is on occasion, immeasurable.  However, it is not considered good behavior nor is it in my best interest to speak without filters.  When words start to flow and I'm irritated or in angst my words can be biting and blunt, and it can hurt - a gross understatement.  And no, I'll be honest - this is where I dance on the line of double standards.  I do.  I'm an asshole for it, but it's the truth.  And knowing this about myself, I strive to change it.  I think I make progress all the time. 

I strive to keep judgment from entering my thoughts, also.  It's not always easy.. to keep judgment at bay.  But in the interest of knowing how flawed I am, I try to not be a hypocrite.  I've done some bad things, things I'm not proud of, but I have no regrets.  I've also done some amazing things and life is about finding balance.  Everything good bad or indifferent has brought me to this place and time in my life and I'm happy.  I'm loving myself and improving things I feel require it.  And I take a lot away from all of it.

I've stopped listening to the inconsiderate and mindless chatter of other people.  I'm learning how to drown out the noise of negativity.  Everyone has an opinion.  They are not me, they have not lived my life, they don't know my choices.  I take what I want from the things people say.  I try my best not to overthink things...it's not always easy.  I'm always in my head.  I'm working on meditation, now.  I need it.  It's hard for me to put down my electronics, I do so enjoy talking to all kinds of different people.  Do I love hearing what people have to say, absolutely.  I love talking to people.  Anybody about a multitude of things.  But when it comes to my life - I'd rather not hear, unless I asked.  Selfish - maybe.  Do I care, no, a big fat NO. 

I have learned so much in the last several months.  And not just about me, but about people.  All kinds of people.  From everywhere.  I find music is a starting point to connect me to many people.  It's a universal language, that everyone speaks.  Music has the ability to bring people together that would normally be divided by a million other senseless things.  I have diverse taste and it seems no matter what I listen to, it speaks to people.  I love that. 

"Music is a language that everyone speaks. Rhythm has the potential to harmonize, unify and take us to a new world that could promote peace, harmony and human connection."-Christine Stevens

 

Utterly Naked

I had drawn a map to my hidden castle.  And cleared the overgrown path to the majestically carved wooden doors.  I had even lowered the bridge over the moat and as the massive gates swung open, I handed over the heavy key to my broken and tattered soul.  I astonished myself, as I carefully and methodically disarmed the guards and stood there alone and naked.  There would be no battle today.  I did not bring my sword.  I had removed all my armor.  I had laid my shield on the ground and gently placed my helmet next to it.  I had no place left to hide. 

Warm tears streamed down my face, making a mess of my make-up.  I had never felt more naked, in all of my life. 

I had stood and trembled naked before, naked without clothes and with nothing for me to hide behind.  There were many times I had wanted to be seen.  There were many times I had felt beautiful and sexy and caught up in the notion of something amorous.  There were times I knew I was adored and my body would be worshipped and every inch of it loved.  I had wanted to be seen and many times I had longed to be touched.  And then, there were times I was terrified of the gaze that would fall on my body.  Uncertain of whether or not my body would be found beautiful.  There were plenty of times I, as a woman, had been unsure of myself, overthinking every possible flaw on my body, flaws I had memorized and could see even with my eyes closed.  I had prayed they would go unnoticed, that my drop in confidence would be invisible, that hungry eyes had been too busy to notice how my own eyes shifted searching for approval, so I could breathe and lose myself under a spell of lust and love. 

I had never been this naked.  Not like this.  This was my soul, not my body.  This wasn't familiar to me.  I wanted to cower in fear and hide behind walls that had been so meticulously built.  I didn't want to feel this vulnerable.  Being vulnerable meant being weak, and I never saw myself as fragile.

I had had three children and had not always been as vigilant as I should have, in caring for myself, or for the lovely temple that housed my soul.  I was as beautiful and as flawed as the next mother.  The scars that adorned my body were trophies, my body had nourished three children into this world.  My body had been a vessel for all kinds of love and abuse over the years.  I had survived abuse as a small child and abusive relationships and even survived cancer, twice.  I was a pillar of strength. 

I had only ever allowed fleeting glimpses and mere moments for people to see over those walls.  I had written off allowing anyone inside.  The only ones welcome.. were my children, they resided there.  I would allow the occasional visitor, but outside of my children, no one could be trusted.  I wasn't going to let people in anymore, I was exhausted from all the battles I was forced to fight, and I didn't know if I would recover and if did, how would I draw upon more strength.

As I stood there naked and terrified, I had never felt more alive, than I did at that moment.  I had had an epiphany.  I knew that if I was to bring my dreams to the outside world and bring them to fruition I would have to leave my castle.  I would have to venture beyond the sanctity of those walls.  If I wanted to build my kingdom, I would need a King.  I would need the bravest of warriors, I would need trusted advisors and I would need to allow people that I loved to be able to flourish in my kingdom.  These would be my people, my village - people that believed in me and stood by me and loved me.  If I wanted my fairytale to be real, I was going to have to breathe life into it. 

I had to stop beating myself up.  I had to force myself to trust people and to let people in or my world was going to implode.  I couldn't keep expecting that everyone that fucked up, had malice intent or was there to feed me to the wolves.  I had to let my guard down, so that I could let people back in.  I had lost too many.  I knew I was still going to lose so many more.  But for the first time, in a long time I wasn't going to stand in my own way.

I have never felt more naked in all my life.  I have never felt more fragile.  I have also never felt more alive or more excited and even without my sword or my walls - I have never felt this brave.

"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness." -Jonathan Safran Foer

Running to Stand Still

Running to STand Still

 

life is what we make of it. its a whole of all the pieces of how we react or respond to all the bullshit thrown at us and how well we live in ALL the moments of our lives. not just the easy and happy and joyous ones, but more-so the trying, the difficult and most definitely the completely unfair. its not chiseled in stone, but rather its' the river that carves its way through the stone. it's not fair, it's not always fun and it damn sure isn't easy. but it should be one hell of a ride and if we're lucky we leave behind our footprints in the hearts of the people we love, those we only met and we hopefully live on as magic in their souls and very fiber of their being.  not everyone stays in your life and not everyone toxic leaves, sometimes people come in and force change. and sometimes your heart shatters for the ones you wish would never have thought to want to leave.  

 

 

Running to Stand Still

 

And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was
Lying still
Said I gotta do something
About where we're going

Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain, maybe
Run from the darkness in the night
Singing ha, ah la la la de day
Ah da da da de day
Ah la la de day

Sweet the sin
Bitter the taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out

You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice

You know I took the poison
From the poison stream
Then I floated out of here
Singing ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ha la la de day

She runs through the streets
With eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me
White gold and pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging
She is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
She will

Suffer the needle chill
She's running to stand

Still.

say yeah

Niykee Heaton Say Yeah

"Say Yeah"

You see us as you want to see us
In the simplest terms, the most convenient definitions
But what we found out is that each of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours

Dark skies and its dang cold
Pretty eyes and a rain coat
So high can't even remember my name
But we got that fire and I know why
We ain't gonna die tonight

Cause we see that gold
We got that summer daze, yeah
Ready, set, go... You gotta fuck it, say yeah
Tonight, we'll do all the thing we wanna do, like, just go
You gotta fuck it, say yeah

Packed whip on a full tank
All sip from the same drink
Nowhere to go
Nowhere to stay
Under this sky, after tonight
We'll wonder why we're not the same

Cause we see that gold
We got that summer daze, yeah
Ready, set, go... You gotta fuck it, say yeah
Tonight, we'll do all the thing we wanna do, like, just go
You gotta fuck it, say yeah

Fuck it, if it feels right
Hold me till it's over
All we got is one time
We ain't going home

Cause we see that gold
We got that summer daze, yeah
Ready, set, go... You gotta fuck it, say yeah
Tonight, we'll do all the thing we wanna do, like, just go
You gotta fuck it, say yeah

...not after this...

She forced a smile, she knew she'd never be the same person, not after this.

She knew that she would never be her...not ever again.  She would be forever changed.  The hole inside her grew and it was dark and ominous and painful and it shredded and ripped away at her insides like daggers leaving her hollow and empty, leaving her crumpled up and on the floor, nothing but a shell.  It was something she'd have to come to terms with eventually.  But at that moment, she was in survival mode.  She knew when the gravity of that decision hit her, she would cry for days, weeks, months, years even  ..mostly ...at night with her door closed, after everyone was fast asleep.  She knew why she did what she did.  She knew the moment she decided, that all those beautiful brilliant pieces of her that lit up a room and sparkled and dazzled like diamonds, she knew that that the opulence and beauty would be lost forever.  She knew.  It was a choice, and hers alone to make, and she chose it.  She had done this to ensure something much bigger, something so astounding  and without measure greater than anything anyone would ever understand.  It was one of the most difficult decisions she would ever have to make.  She did it for them, she always did everything for them, she would do anything in the world for them.  It was her sacrifice to make.   Anything.  Even this.  And as she tore away at those beautiful pieces of her soul, she knew she would never be the same. Not ever. Not ever again.  ...not after this...

She would pick up the pieces and walk with her head held high and she would pretend for the rest of her life that everything is okay.  She smiles, not because she has to, but because she can stare down demons and laugh in the face of the devil.  Nothing and No one will ever break her.  She's strong because she has to be. 

No one will ever love those wretched, broken forsaken pieces and she knew that.  Her heart ached because she knows she will carry those shattered pieces with her to her grave. 

pieces of me

Damn, she thought to herself - he's a little bit messy, a little bit ruined and a beautiful disaster.  What if his crazy matches her crazy? 

Reading what he wrote should not have had any impact on her.  She was way too guarded to allow feelings.  After-all, the cup runneth over and there were more than a few trying to woo her.  Most of them she deleted, sadly, many wouldn't make the cut.  Some knew all too well all the right things to say - she was gullible, and a romantic - eventually she would catch on.  There's a difference between a man that was truly interested and a man that just wanted her.  She had learned her lessons in life, not all men said what they meant and not everyone was honest.  She was like a child, often indulged by the idea of magic and romance, so she wanted to believe. 

He was different and she immediately knew that - something in his eyes, despite not wanting to, she was intrigued.  Guarded, she held back and waited for patterns to emerge.  A few patterns had reared up, but for some reason she carried on exchanges, anyway.  They had communicated previously, she'd even read his words before.  He was an intellectual, but bigger than that his confidence was unlike other confident men.  He was good-looking and funny and kind.  He was a father and a good one. The attraction wasn't earth shattering, it seemed more familiar, than anything.  Though his gaze could made her cheeks flush red and that was strange and truly unusual.

Why did his words whisper to her?  It was embarrassing and she rarely got embarrassed.  Reading his words had brought her to tears and it had been a long time since someone had reached through and penetrated those walls she built so high around her heart.  What if - she thought, what if there was more to him...    She thought she'd give a bit more time to probe and creep.  Maybe just sit back in silence and watch for a while.  Nothing could happen now anyway.  She needed that time to herself.  No one would ever be strong enough to break down her walls anyway. 

She was done trying to build, love and lift everyone.  She had loved hard, she had loved without boundaries and she knew it was going to take everything she had - she knew he'd be broken in places too.

She was done giving little pieces of herself away.  She needed a man, that would help pick up those pieces, that would understand and relate to the pain in those broken pieces, that would kiss them knowing it would never heal them, but recognized her heart was so big she'd make room - she needed that.  She needed someone that was going to fight for her - even if it meant fighting her.  And she never needed anybody!!  She needed a man that would shout from rooftops and make her feel like she was the most important thing in the world.  She was done.  For as much as she believed in love and romance, it was going to take one hell of a man to make her believe in him and not just something she hoped for...