need
I wrote the following post yesterday. It was one of those days where I cried big sloppy tears for feelings I couldn't ignore one minute longer. In the morning I cried silently, working away at my desk, and felt better by the afternoon. Last night, I cried loudly, I gave myself permission to really grieve for all these things that have happened in the last year - both my own experiences and those I have born witness to both here and abroad. Today I feel so much better - but I'm giving myself permission to post about the reality of yesterday as a tribute to the 2 year anniversary of this blog. Many people don't understand blogging - they don't get baring your soul to strangers (or loved ones who might read, for that matter). I can't say I totally understand it either. I don't even know who reads this anymore that I might censor my words for if I realized they'd see them. The point is, I'm making peace with my yesterdays, with letting them be, on the page. Two years of yesterdays marked today. It's been a blessing, to say the least.
June 2, 2008
I have far more love in my life than many people I'm sure (and if ever there were cause to quantify, I'm sure far less than others). The point is that it's there, it's present in family and friends and the romantic affection of a few - more than I recognize and certainly more than I know how to draw on when I need it most.
This past year has, in many ways, kicked my heart's ass. As above, I feel I have to post the necessary disclaimer: it has been kicked far less than many others. The pain I know pales in comparison to many, it would be disrespectful to compare it to the loss and the grief that others have experienced in their own hurts. But to me it is real, it is pronounced, it is disorienting. It has bubbled up in a redefinition of family, first by those around me, and then by myself as I tried to make sense of an absolutely new familial landscape. It has been in once again having fallen in love, and then, with an explanation that feels far from valid or to reflect the strength of the love I hope to give and someday receive, having fallen out of it. It has been in the wanting to turn to my pillars of strength during these times, and seeing them withered in the paralysis of their own hurts and life's challenges. It is the ultimate feeling of at times being without the strength of the most important ties of a lover/partner and family.
So I've looked elsewhere for comfort, sometimes demanding it from those who have no responsibility to provide it, or else taking it in bits and pieces, knowing full well the temporary security such offerings provide. Such things, invariably, come to an end. What remains amidst the fractured ties, the mini-flings, the hot-prospect projects, is friendship. There is no lack of wealth therein. And yet in my attempts to escape my grief, I have called on my friends almost exclusively for fun and light heartedness - for small adventures and days of laughing till my stomach aches, rather than the assuredness I desperately seek that if and when the shit hits the fan, I won't be alone. I have rarely let myself cry to them, or even in front of them, the shame of such fractures somehow too great to let the cat out of the bag. Of all my flaws, I think this is perhaps the worst - to not be able to let your guard down to those who have the strength, love and the confidence in you when you need it most.
June 2, 2008
I have far more love in my life than many people I'm sure (and if ever there were cause to quantify, I'm sure far less than others). The point is that it's there, it's present in family and friends and the romantic affection of a few - more than I recognize and certainly more than I know how to draw on when I need it most.
This past year has, in many ways, kicked my heart's ass. As above, I feel I have to post the necessary disclaimer: it has been kicked far less than many others. The pain I know pales in comparison to many, it would be disrespectful to compare it to the loss and the grief that others have experienced in their own hurts. But to me it is real, it is pronounced, it is disorienting. It has bubbled up in a redefinition of family, first by those around me, and then by myself as I tried to make sense of an absolutely new familial landscape. It has been in once again having fallen in love, and then, with an explanation that feels far from valid or to reflect the strength of the love I hope to give and someday receive, having fallen out of it. It has been in the wanting to turn to my pillars of strength during these times, and seeing them withered in the paralysis of their own hurts and life's challenges. It is the ultimate feeling of at times being without the strength of the most important ties of a lover/partner and family.
So I've looked elsewhere for comfort, sometimes demanding it from those who have no responsibility to provide it, or else taking it in bits and pieces, knowing full well the temporary security such offerings provide. Such things, invariably, come to an end. What remains amidst the fractured ties, the mini-flings, the hot-prospect projects, is friendship. There is no lack of wealth therein. And yet in my attempts to escape my grief, I have called on my friends almost exclusively for fun and light heartedness - for small adventures and days of laughing till my stomach aches, rather than the assuredness I desperately seek that if and when the shit hits the fan, I won't be alone. I have rarely let myself cry to them, or even in front of them, the shame of such fractures somehow too great to let the cat out of the bag. Of all my flaws, I think this is perhaps the worst - to not be able to let your guard down to those who have the strength, love and the confidence in you when you need it most.
Labels: faith, friendship, heartache - the real kind, help
posted by Mood Indigo at 10:40 AM
5 Comments:
I stopped comparing my hurts to everyone elses. This makes me feel like I'm crying for nothing when people don't have clean water to drink. We all have our path in life and our own levels of rock bottom. Sometimes I hurt in ways others couldn't understand. In those moments, I don't apologize for my tears. Instead, I celebrate them knowing that when I have dealt with the hurt and am moving on it means I'm growing... and that, to me, is living as authentically as I can in my own reality experiencing the life I was blessed to be born into.
Friends are the family we choose for ourselves. (as seen on a fridge magnet) In all aspects of my life I rely on the strength and love of my friends - whether it be carrying me on their shoulders (metaphorically obviously!) to celebrate my successes or carry me through lifes deepest trials. If they can celebrate like that with me, then they can hold my hand in the dark too. It's an unconditional love I have with my friends today... it's what they have taught and given to me.
wise words from a wise woman montrealgurl :)
I think it is wise to not think your pain has been worse than everyone else's, cause that will likely lead to further wallowing. I"m guilty of this.
hi, personally, i choose not to cry, it makes my eyes get all red and puffy (and not in the good way) this whole blogging thing is rather interesting, i have chosen to hide my identity because i sometimes bitch about my employees, don't worry about who does or does not read your post, does it really matter? if a person does something, in this case blogging, to make themselves feel better do they really need an audience
i apologize if this makes no sense, you see, my 'pharmacist' is in jail so i am currently sober, which, ironically, almost brings a tear to my eye
peace
Sweetie, I am so sorry I'm so behind here. I've gotten so wrapped up in my ME. Big big hugs to you. Sure, others have experienced more hurt, harder things to bear, whatever, this is you and your life and your hurt. And plenty of people have it easier. I think you bleed easily for the world, which leads you to work for change; it's a beautiful quality.
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