I wrote this entry last week. I did not upload it. No wonder why, changing habits is not easy. It may have been part of a letter to J, or maybe not. I don't recall and don't feel like looking it up. That might distract me and delay this entry even longer. Did you miss me?
I post this entry now, here, to confront myself with the reality of the things I must do to continue surviving in this culture, not to mention staying alive.
Oh the drama... will the dirt and details arrive soon? :)
I must do laundry tomorrow (which is today, actually) and I must get out to get my hair cut before Friday as I am shaggy and not what a "Safety Officer" should look like in this area. Southern conservative cool. Interview Friday, today is Wednesday, I think. Whatever the time-date stamp might say, it is 6am and I have been up all night, getting laundry done will probably need to start with sunrise (it's outside the house and dark - no lighting - and the shed is not clean enough to fumble through in the dark so I will wait for daylight and hope I am still awake enough to get some done). I'll also need to be quiet as The Maharaja will likely be asleep until at least 10am and maybe later. He doesn't get home until sunrise sometimes. I also must remember Wednesdays are the low ebb of my spirt/hope/happiness cycle which seems to be quite weekly as my routine is quite unchanging in recent months. Preparing for all the obstacles, especially the ones in my head, might actually get the laundry done.
I am hungry too. But I have been eating way too much pasta of late and putting on the weight I lost in September and October and that is depressing and unhealthy and stupid and yet, the will power is caving into the emotional stresses. Pasta is cheap. I must restrict the budget until I have income. I can get back to taking the supplements though. I foolishly stopped taking the supplements (and even forget the blood pressure med a few times) so add it all up to suicidal behavior and it points to more than stress or procrastination, it points to to apathy and perhaps, directly at depression. It would be nice if my supposed best friend who is a licensed therapist might notice these suicidal tendencies. Her not caring to notice adds to the dark clouds I have slid under in the past couple of months. Yes I know, friendships change and best friends move on, but do friends really disappear when someone is sinking? Apparently. I refer you to the title of this entry. Reflecting on honesty, remember? I don't highlight these thoughts in a paragraph of it's own, kind of hoping it gets lost in all the babble. Did you notice? I still feel my child-light of hope and joy shining deep down, but it's really dark and sad on the surface all around me.
Somehow this letting go video reverbs in my brain.
And Honesty.
It is good to have a friend who listens (or reads) and who cares enough to respond to all my babblings. Thank you J, for your listening and responding and caring and understanding means so much more than I can say. J keeps me hopeful that there are other people like her in the world and I will find a friend who listens and cares like her nearby someday.
Ok, I feel exposure coming on.
Writing to J has helped me a lot. I know my honesty pushes people away and J accepts honesty well. The next eight paragraphs come from a letter to J with some expansion as the pondering deepened upon the reflection that comes from re-reading it as part of this entry.
The most important person in life for me for the past decade may be upset and move further away if she ever reads this, but I must process my confusion and hurt. The words are betrayal and abandonment, the two most painful experiences in this life. It often happens when people complicate things too much. When like when a male and female are such close friends that the world assumes they are in sexual or romantic relationship. I am a simple child who does not care much what the world thinks of me. Only the opinions of a very few I trust and choose as family matter to me. My emotional boundaries were clearly formed before I even knew what emotions were. Instinct taught me to protect myself from the fears others empower and the complex confusion and judgments those fears create. I do not empower fears so I do not empower others unless I consciously choose to empower others. I wish she could do the same. I hope this helps more than it hurts, but it's gonna hurt like hell (hold on).
When trust dies, especially when unconditional trust dies, no matter what label we put on a relationship, it hurts almost as much as the actual death. The only family I've ever known was adopted family. I do not know the bond of biological family. This is something few who know the bond of biological family can understand. When I adopt, I give my unconditional trust as completely as I am able and people do not seem to respect or understand (or want) the bond I form. Most people do not ever put their whole heart (and soul and life) in someone else's hands. That is the only way I know how to love when I adopt family.
Hope for the best, but I must be honest with myself and work through this.
It is tough to accept the loss of family or a "BFF", but tougher still when the realization that she may never have actually been a friend rises for attention from the subconscious and gains validity in the brain. The heart wants to bury the thought screaming "don't believe it" but evidence builds up over time and ignoring it is self-destructive. I know, I've self-destructed this way all through this life. So did I let the proximity of shared living space and her financial and emotional dependence on me convince me she was a friend who really cared about me and understood me? Her actions suggest she was just using me. Worse, she knew my most powerful pain and the biggest challenge in this life has been abandonment.
She knows how to hurt me most.
This is why so few reach this deep, so few are adopted.
Anyone reading this or previous personal babblings knows how to hurt me most, but only those I empower with unconditional trust can hurt me most. Unconditional trust gives someone the opportunity to betray and abandon. It is a choice I make to give someone that power.
She said the words, she promised she would never abandon me as family and friends have in the past. I accepted her word (just as I accepted her word that I should buy the car because she promised in February 2014 to start actually paying her half of the living expenses. I looked at her and said I would not be able to pay all the rent/expenses and the car and she assured me... She knows I would not have bought the car without her promise. I asked for reassurance on that promise several times before finally buying the car. She did not and drained my savings in other ways as well. I help people with money when I adopt them as family, my fault. She even repeatedly said she wanted to "pay me back" a little every month after she moved out).
Words. Sigh.
But as scary as living on the street is... and as painful as the betrayal of promises can be... the abandonment hurts the most. Even if it was not during a year when I am financially unstable and looking at homelessness and struggling with a whole lot (am I worth caring about and remembering?... to me, yes... to most others, not so much, alas, sigh, blah), shutting me out of her life as she has is exactly the way to hurt me most and she promised that would never happen. I remember he sitting on the couch and saying those words.
She did not live up to them so far.
My theme (not quite a song), there's always hope (I hope) echos through me now.
Or something like that.
So ok, I vent and vent (and vent and process and vent) and I do that to find the right words to process enough to find as much stable ground, understanding, and closure as possible. As long as there is hope (and there is always hope as long as we live), there is no complete closure (so wound bleed until we die) unless we turn our brains off (and then we die, even if we are still breathing). At least I can reach for and maybe find the understanding of choices. I've been, in my home babbles and in letters to J, evaluating what actually happened during the past year so I can clarify as much as possible what actually happened, what hurts, and why it hurts. I think the paragraphs above may have finally brought out the words to clarify the two most painful choices she made and actions she's taken.
Maybe I can rest the subject now... and let it be.
Self-doubt. It is sometimes the loudest voice inside, but also the voice that triggers the loudest laughter because I know what I can do and what I've been through in this life and I know my failures are my failures of my choices and not failures of my abilities. When it comes to choosing whom to give unconditional trust, I can not trust my own judgment.
I choose to trust "too much" and that is suicide in a professional career in our capitalistic culture. I choose to test people who come close to me and that is destructive to relationships in our superficial pretentious social culture. I sometimes choose to give up and vegetate and that is self-destructive. It is not my ability I doubt, it is my will to continue to believe there is a reason and purpose to run the rat race and achieve what this culture calls success.
Do I still want to be the happy idiot? I don't know. Why.
There is deeper self-doubt that comes from that lonely child inside who was never love unconditionally and never experienced shared unconditional trust. The voice asking why mothers and fathers abandoned me is still seeking an answer. The voice asking, like the little duck in the book of the same title, "Are You My Mother" is still wanting someone to be the parent or sibling I never knew. It seems to me that our culture judges that as wrong.
Unconditional love and trust. Does it exist? Did it ever?
I don't doubt my choice to be true to my ideals and beliefs though. I don't doubt that my way is the only right way for me. I don't doubt that honesty and sharing is the only way for humanity to survive. I don't doubt myself. I doubt my ability or willingness to fit in to this culture.
To bond with humans as they are today. To overcome the obvious evidence that people can not be trusted to be completely honest and aware because they are not completely honest and aware of themselves because they empower their fears more than their love.
Yet I am here and only believe in one ideal higher than all others.
Honest love.
Honesty without harm.
I live for the glorious quest, for what humans appear to consider the impossible dream...
Unconditional trust.
I give and share and accept that once again, I am left alone again and again, always hoping to find that one person who understands that honesty and sharing is the way to survive in peace.
So how are you?
there is always hope.
There is always hope
as long as one keeps hoping.
And since I hope there is always hope,
then there is always hope
because I am always hoping
that there is always hope.
And since I hope (and hope I hope)
there is always hope.
I hope I hope forever
so there is always hope
Narf :)
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