Archive for the ‘loneliness’ Tag

Anti-Positives (not Negatives) For Those Days When Sunny Positivity Just Can’t Cut It

As you know, I’m on a mission to center positivity, gratitude and kindness in my life. I want to be the best version of me that I can be, every day. But because I am human and imperfect, I don’t always succeed. Sometimes finding the silver lining, the “one good thing” in a day utterly full of crappy, negative experiences and energy is simply too much. Some days I just can’t fake it ‘til I make it.

On those days, honoring the darkness, letting the emotional, political, mental sludge breathe and have its moment in the middle is all I can do. And, if I’m both lucky and careful, that momentary dominance will satisfy the perverseness of the universe and let me pin that day to the past, moving forward into positivity once again. It’s brutal and not at all pretty to live through, but once on the other side, relief at having given the darkness that moment makes the light a little more bright and a little more bearable.

So that’s the silver lining, the good out of the bad.

But what gets you to that place is acknowledging the pain points, the dreck that’s built up and is clamoring to get out. Catharsis, I guess. But not necessarily just a good ol’ fashioned, wracking, sobbing cry. Sometimes it calls for naming the enemies, a litany of the poisons steeping in the blood, to extinguish their power and potency. Only after being called to the fore can some of these venoms be neutralized – the power of light to bleach the stain of the dark.

To that end, I’m braving my fears of vulnerability and derision to call out some of the poisons currently plaguing my peace:

Imposter Syndrome

Being a Pathetic Loser

Loneliness and the Fear it is Forever

Inadequacy in Every Dimension

Fixating on the Unobtainable

Reliving Humiliating Moments of the Past

Beating Myself Up for Giving in to Anger

Fear of Change

Wow. That’s a lot of mental and emotional poison.

I wrote all of that over a month ago, after nearly a month of lost sleep and continual stress. I set it aside to breathe, thinking that it was too raw and left me too exposed to actually publish. I thought I just needed to get it out of my head and it would be enough. But it hasn’t stopped.

So last night, Wednesday October 24th, while I was, again, not sleeping and after my eyes called it quits on reading anymore as an escape from the poisonous thoughts, I lay still and let the poison wash over me. I decided all the fighting I’d been doing to avoid it had been futile, so maybe giving it its freedom would bring some relief. Again, maybe if I honor the darkness it’ll let me go?

So I spent the entire night reliving the most cringeworthy, painful, humiliating moments of my life, watching each scene and acknowledging it’s continued sting. It felt like walking through a thrift store, cruising the aisles full of dusty, dented, useless junk that somehow still holds a degree of fascination, picking up items and replacing them on the shelves. It was a miserable experience, yet I managed to get to the end of the aisle without shedding a tear. Despite feeling the oppressive weight of humiliation and shame that each memory carried, I looked at each one and then set it aside without further judgment or sorrow.

No profound conclusions resulted and no existential clarity emerged. I did notice a pattern in the moments that rose to the surface and it’s still percolating through my brain trying to resolve into a clear shape that I can put a name to. But there’s been no epiphany.

Still, I think it helped, in some perverse way, to let my brain purge the dreck. I’m not certain that I won’t have to confront those moments again another time, but I feel that surviving that ordeal is a triumph. Even though it cost me a day of vacation time (I was in no shape to go to work today) and a day-long headache that’s still pounding, in addition to the night-long anguish, I’m calling it a win. It’s not a bright, shiny, joyous win, but a win nevertheless.

And because any positive out of all this oily, oozing darkness should be celebrated, I’m taking my courage in both hands and am publishing this very personal realness, despite feeling naked in the spotlight by doing so.

Lyrics of Me

I seem to be in a weird, contemplative head space lately. I see patterns and make connections between things that probably aren’t truly connected, just coincidental. And I seem to be fairly nostalgic, reminiscing more and spontaneously remembering random experiences from my past much more frequently than I recall doing previously. So, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised at the connection that struck me as I drove to work this morning.

I don’t like to listen to talking on the radio – not commercials, not DJ commentary, not even most news reports – so I change stations frequently and listen to a variety of music genres. I also usually just concentrate on the music, the melody and instrumentation and harmony, without focusing on the lyrics. But for whatever reason, today the words were at the front of everything. As I surfed the frequencies on my 20 minute drive early this morning, I heard a bit of everything, from pop to rock to country. And on each station I heard at least one section of lyrics that seemed to speak directly from my life.

Getting glimpses of my own struggles in the words of popular music can be so validating and freeing. It makes the insecurities fade a bit, makes me feel less cut-off from whatever my brain is defining as “normal” at the moment. Sometimes that spark of recognition in the lyrics of a song burrows under my skin and occupies my subconscious for days until I’m able to internalize the message it holds for me. It’s a relief and a comfort when that happens. One of those from my past, one that helped me through the tough times of coming out to myself and others, recurred today:

I’m not a woman

I’m not a man

I am something that you’ll never understand

~ “I Would Die 4 U”, Prince and The Revolution

Yet that glimpse of me in song can also feel foreign, in a way, when the words in the context of the song speak of someone so different from me. It’s hard in those moments to understand how a sentiment that exactly summarizes some aspect of me can be speaking the truth about someone who is nearly opposite of everything that I am. I’m challenged to contemplate that issues I’ve associated with the various marginalized demographics I have occupied in my life can also be challenging for those I’ve mentally categorized as mainstream, often privileged, in those very dimensions. I’m certainly not a rock star on the road, but this is one I’ve struggled with for years:

And you feel the eyes upon you as you’re shaking off the cold

You pretend it doesn’t bother you but you just want to explode

Most times you can’t hear ’em talk, other times you can

All the same old clichés: “Is that a woman or a man?”

And you always seem outnumbered, you don’t dare make a stand

~ “Turn the Page”, by Bob Seger

Then there are those surprising lyrics from songs you’ve heard but never really listened to before. Those can be fun sometimes, like when you realize for the first time that Led Zeppelin dropped Tolkien references into “Ramble On”. But those surprising lyrics can sneak up on you, hitting hard with words that seem to reveal a truth that you’ve missed or refuse to acknowledge. Those sneak attack lyrics can suck big time, especially when they’re the last song just as you pull into the parking lot and the message dawns on your way into a work day full of stress and challenge that won’t give you a moment to sit quietly and work through the shock. Words in this category today from a singer with a name that’s particularly apropos:

We’ve just been lonely too long

Nothing’s wrong that can’t be cured

With a new love

All you need is someone like me to

Be sure of, to be your love

~ “Lonely Too Long”, by Patty Loveless

Today has been a mixed bag of lyrics of me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all, to eke out whatever lesson is to be learned. So this post feels a bit unfinished because I have no profound conclusions to impart. But I hope that sharing this little bit of my mental landscape gives you something to ponder.

Rubicon Passed

That’s it. I’ve passed the rubicon and am forever changed.

Actually, that happened ages ago, but I am only now beginning to understand the many, varied, deep and wide results such an event can have in my personal life experience. They are wonderful, awe-inspiring consequences. And (just sometimes) they are a little bit terrifying, in the same way a great height or deep water can be terrifying and exhilarating at once.

What was this monumental turning point?

To paraphrase lyricist Alan Jay Lerner, I have “grown accustomed to her face…she’s second nature to me now”.

In short, I’ve adjusted to not being alone and have grown to love being loved. I don’t think I could ever again be content to have no love in my life. I’m forever changed by the love of a wonderful woman and so amazingly blessed to be so.

This is not to say I am unable to be alone or solitary for a time and for specific reasons. Indeed, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t occasionally need some alone time. We have to be able to be still with ourselves and enjoy the solitude of our own minds, now and then. It’s how we retain our individuality.

But as a life, as a persistent condition, I could never again choose to be the kind of alone that coincides with lonely.

Instead, by giving myself fully to a relationship, enjoying and participating in all the benefits that entails, I have been transformed. I have become something I never believed I would have the opportunity to become: one half of a whole, a partner and life companion, one of two who are one.

I’m not sure, exactly, what brought these thoughts to the top of my mind today. She’s the most frequent thought in my mind every day. But today, a day of no particular significance, I feel her physical and temporal distance from me more than ever. I have this sensation that an integral part of myself is displaced. And more than anything, I miss my Lulu.

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