It's About Time.

When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....

The Danger of Indifference.

I know every cliche there is about life and happiness.  The sayings, unfortunately, are just that and don't really bring anything useful to the discussion most of the time.  "You're the captain of your own ship" and other cliches I find are just uttered AT someone due the lack of having anything substantial or helpful.  It's all very well-meaning, of course, but as they say... "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." *wink*

I don't need cliches or old sayings or quotes from famous people.  What I need is substance and action from people who are involved in my life where they have have direct and powerful influence in what happens in my life or to me.  Keep the platitudes and he cliches and the rehearsed and memories 'pretties.'  What I need is something REAL.

Many times people will utter those cliches, or even quote scripture as a response to questions or shared feelings, experiences or thoughts.  I would rather someone be honest and tell me they don't know what to say instead of offering verbal memes as a replacement for heartfelt responses.  There's no replacement for real feelings.  You can't pretend to say or do something from the heart.  People know when something isn't genuine.

Not everyone resorts to cliches out of indifference, I know this.  But many people try to cover their indifference with BS.  Just stop it already.  Actions speak louder than words, right?  And even the smallest action can be recognized as an honest attempt.  But do NOT try and tell me you 'care' or 'love' me when your behavior screams indifference.  Don't underestimate me, and don't assume I don't see what you are or where you're at just because I remain quiet.

Indifference has no place in healthy relationships of any kind.  Not working, not romantic, not friendship, not even in business or career!  An indifferent nurse will often be irresponsible.  Do YOU want an indifferent nurse to be giving you medication and measuring injection dosages?  I sure as hell don't!  Indifference is dangerous... on all practical and impractical levels.

T's indifference this morning left me angry and also alarmed at my situation.  I won't go into it all again here as I spilled my guts about that in This Free Spirit.  I'm just venting at this point and wondering why human beings choose indifference over compassion and empathy.

That's the million dollar question, isn't it?

Why Dream?

I used to dream a lot.  I used to believe that pretty much anything was possible.  I also used to believe that people in your life who say they love you also want your dreams to come true, for you to be happy.  But the truth is--no one really cares about your dreams, desires, and often... they don't even care what you NEED.  But what if your dreams ARE what you need?

I hear the chatter, the whispers on the web and witness the effects on women everywhere when disconnection takes over their lives.  Meaning, the disconnection of whomever they're with, the disconnection that divides, hinders, then ultimately destroys dreams.  It's there, and the blind are those who seek to control and tell that person---they're not allowed to have that dream.  Or worse, to insist that the dream isn't possible.  You can DREAM it but you can't HAVE it.  That message seeks to destroy.

I have dreams every now and then when I can pry myself away from the chronic pain, the debilitating pain as it is on most days right now.  They creep in subtly and often fade just as quietly as they arrived.  More times than not these days, however, I'm fighting against that negative force that reminds me daily that I need permission to dream, to want more, to see my life outside of what it is at the moment.  When I reach for better... my hand is slapped away every time.

Why dream then?  Why waste the time and energy to think, to visualize, to want something better than what I have?  Why envision my life as it was before I became sick?  Why bother at all?  Because the times that I give up it feels a little like dying.  I can't explain it more than that, but it's what it feels like---as if life is absolutely over.

I have to think about that.

July 4th weekend, and the most BEAUTIFUL voice carrying our national anthem..

This brought tears to my eyes--and gave me goosebumps.  The most beautiful version of this I have ever heard, and it was spontaneous.  God bless this beautiful country---God bless the USA. <3