chapter 45

 

well.

45 sure has started off with a bang.

october was a month.

october was a LOOOOOOOOOOOOONG month. 

it started with letting go of stella and ended with moving.

that’s a lot of change and letting go and literally moving on for ONE. FUCKING. MONTH.

i really hope november lets me take a moment to catch my breath.

i will say though: through it all, i am so eternally grateful to the universe for how well it all went.

i moved in 2 hours.

TWO. HOURS.

that’s insane.

7 people in total, myself, my partner, a co-worker, my kid, and his crew of helpers.

TWO. HOURS.

two trucks, one trailer, and several trips in the mini cooper. parking directly out front of the new place for unloading. everyone showed up on time, got to work, hammered it out (and back in) in TWO. HOURS. 

now that it’s all done and over and i’m not going to jinx anything: the lease worked out. the new manager was on time with the keys. the weather was PERFECT. after a solid week of rain i had 2 days of perfect weather: no rain, no snow, no blazing sun, just a happy goldilocks JUST RIGHT. no injuries. NO INJURIES. third floor. satan’s staircase. multiple trips by multiple people. NO INJURIES. i had exactly the right number of boxes to get all the plants out on the last trip. the only thing broken in sacrifice to the moving gods was a $20 mirror. I CAN DEAL WITH THAT. i plugged in my router at the new place and the internet worked. i turned on the floorboards and the heat worked. i plugged in lamps and the eclectic worked. my furniture fits EXACTLY in the new place. i mean EXACTLY. to the perfect inch.

no more drug dealers. no more squatters. no more dumpster divers. no more freezing all winter. no more sirens. no more parking lot lights and flood lights and building lights.

this was, in every possible sense of the experience, the perfect move. everyone met up at 11 and we were having pizza and beer by 1.

i am so insanely grateful. the universe aligned exactly and i am SO GRATEFUL.

friends and one of my bosses help with money. my brother not only sent me money, he didn’t even lecture me first AND wished me a “happy new chapter.” the same brother that called me a frog with a lighter under my ass once upon a time. no lecture, financial help, AND good wishes? amazing. 

a friend offered a hot tub night on saturday that was MUCH NEEDED. i was able to get sunday off work to be able to unpack. i had enough time to get enough things put away that i was able to get ready for work this morning without stepping over any boxes. AND MAKE COFFEE. coffee in the new place on a monday morning before work without stepping over boxes. that’s a good start to the week.

i am so grateful for how this weekend went.

in all my moves (so many moves), this one was by far the best and easiest.

i am so grateful.

i’ve met several of the new neighbors- one has an english bulldog named fat mama. broke my heart and healed it all at the same time. one of my neighbors spent sunday clearing the leaves off the sidewalk. already 100000000% improvement.

october was a kick in the teeth.

for sure.

but sometimes i think you need a kick in the teeth to remind you to get up out of the dirt. why are your teeth at kicking level girl? it might be time to elevate.

i did some full moon work last thursday and the message was loud and clear:

There is a new foundation. You are disconnecting and disengaging from an old way of being. The Taurus full moon focuses on home, routine, security, foundation, food, and cooking.

Are you really comfortable? Or just in your comfort zone?

Give yourself the ability to see life in a new way.

You’ve paid off old karma, it’s time to open up a new timeline.

YOU DON’T KNOW ME! good lord. not even a single ounce of energy spent trying to deny the universe speaking DIRECTLY TO ME on that one. (source: Chris Corsini Full Moon In Taurus workshop).

the number 9 in numerology is all about endings. 4+5=9. 2+0+2+5=9. that’s a LOT of endings all coming together at the same time.

i’m ready for new beginnings. i’m ready for a new timeline. i’m ready to get up out of the dirt and see what comes next.

chapter 45 started with a bang.

let’s see where it goes now.

week 3

i knew it would come, just not this fast.

ugh. week 3.

can't...figure...out...what...to...say.

it's not that i don't have anything TO say, it's that there's SO MUCH but it's still heavy, emotional junk and it feels like that's all it been so far.

i guess you talk about what you know though, right?

i'm still breaking my brain a little very week. still cleaning out the emotional closet.

last week i had a huge realization that a LOT of people think i'm impulsive.

it's such a weird thought to me, but i followed the rabbit trail and let the idea chase itself around.

i get it.

people see the end result: when i make a decision, it's DONE. this is what's happening. action is usually VERY swift to follow and it can seem, understandably, out of the blue.

what many people (surprisingly mostly family) don't realize is how long that decision took. i NEVER make snap decisions. ever. i'm obnoxiously thorough.

i think about things from every possible perspective. i look for every option. i worst case scenario ALL the scenarios. i think through everything. pro/con lists. meditation. research.

what you don't see on that list though is an important one: DISCUSSIONS.

i was a single parent for 21 years. i didn't have anyone to make decisions WITH. i ran things around in my head endlessly, then decided, then made it happen.

that can have the effect of blindsiding people. yes, there's been HUNDREDS of hours of thought, but no one else knew that. no one else was in on the conversation.

17 years ago my then-husband came home one day in december to a uhaul in the front yard.

he didn't know i had been seeing a domestic violence counselor for months. that i had been apartment hunting. that i was lining things up, weighing it out. i had JOURNALS of processing and working through the abuse and trying to decide if i would stay or go. when i decided to go, I WENT. he left to plow snow at the fire department, i had a friend waiting with a truck, by the time he got back i had about 20 minutes left of packing and i was gone.

i can understand the anger of feeling blindsided of coming home to a uhaul in the front yard. i get it.

with my kids...i tried everything. counseling. mentors. sports. church. friends. court. police. teachers. rules, no rules, discipline. 

things just spiraled with both of them. there was so much anger and violence and i tried everything. when it came time to make a change it had to be rapid and fast otherwise the weeks leading up to it would have been absolute hell. 

but i get it. my brother always calls me a frog with a lighter under my ass. he calls and i have a new job. a new apartment. something has changed.

a) that shows how often we talk

b) he doesn't understand the months and years of work that has gone into my decisions.

yes. i quit a job with 2 days notice. no, it wasn't an impulse.

it was a LONG time coming after putting up with blatant racism, homophobia, prejudice. listening to coworkers sit 2 feet away from my desk railing about how all single moms are worthless drains on the government. listening to them talk about how they would NEVER allow a gay person near their family. being groped by them when they walked by my desk. listening to one coworker proudly announce, to the owner of the company "i'm prejudice. i'm not afraid to say it...i'm prejudice against all of them!"

yeah, i quit 20 minutes after on a wednesday and told them friday would be my last day. it was fast, but it was a LONG time coming.

but i get it. i can see the other side.

maybe if i allowed some of the discussions out of my head it would be different. so i'm working on that.

this week i had a massive realization that broke my brain again: i spent 21 years trying to prove everyone wrong. i was a teen mom and i'll be damned if i was going to be "one of those teen moms..." that people like my coworkers talked about. i didn't want to be a drain on the system. i didn't want to use government aid any more than absolutely necessary. i made the housing authorities stop sending me a housing grant a few months after they gave it to be because i had stabilized and could pay rent on my own. they didn't understand. took weeks to convince them i didn't need it anymore, give it to someone else.

i worked my ass off for 21 years to not be a failure. i couldn't ask for help. i couldn't be a mooch. i couldn't be the teen mom they were all waiting for me to be. EVEN INTO MY 30'S.

yeah. that shit sticks with you. i was a "teen mom" by age for THREE YEARS. but somehow i ended up being a teem mom my whole life.

but guess what fuckers? I DID IT.

yeah. look what all that repression and refusing to ask for help got me...

oh wait...

so. here i am. almost 40. no longer a parent. and guess what. 

I NEED HELP.

i need friends. i need emotional support. i might need financial support. i will need rides. i will need someone to pick me up on occasion or help me run errands every now and again.

and fuck if that isn't a bitter pill to swallow in some ways.

but WHY?

why is it so embarrassing to ask for help?

because i'm worried someone from 21 years ago will get to say, "SEE! I WAS RIGHT!"

 ok.

cool.

you were right. i'm a failure. i need help.

COOL. hope you got the satisfaction out of that after twenty one years. good on you.

GUESS WHAT?

asking for help is more important than worrying about some asshat getting to say they were right about me. 

so i tried it last night.

i asked for help.

and when friends came through with that help, i let them.

and when they offered bonus help on top of the help, I TOOK THEM UP ON IT.

and fuck it that wasn't the...just...IT WAS AN AMAZING NIGHT.

it was the first full moon of the lunar new year.

i knew i wanted to do something. set some intentions. clear some energy. SOMETHING.

so my friends came over and we talked for a while and the idea of burning some of the things from my past came up.

WHO DOESN'T LOVE A GOOD BURNING SHIT BONFIRE??

when i was a kid my mom used to write me letters. post cards when i was at camp gilead (why yes, it was a church camp, how did you guess?).

summers when i was at my dads house i would usually get a letter or two.

then there were the MOM letters. 


my brother and i used to live in fear of the mom letter. if you got a mom letter you done fucked up.


the letters...oof those letters. one of them i read through last night would have been written to me at 7 years old. it was full of reminders to make sure i always looked nice, my hair was always done, i was always being polite. i was being helpful and nice.

it maybe seems innocuous at first but when you think that at age SEVEN. SEVEN YEARS OLD i was being trained and conditioned on how i needed to behave and appear in order to be good. how i needed to BE a friend to have friends. i grew up thinking (still do) that i'm a shitty friend because no matter how hard i tried to BE a friend, i never HAD friends. that will fuck you up. especially because kids are assholes and when they find someone willing to do ANYTHING to be included, you bet your ass they'll take full advantage of that.

and i had a handful of them. these letters and cards. some i've let go before now, but these i had held onto for a myriad of reasons:

a) you NEVER throw away a letter or card. if someone sends you a letter or card you keep that FOREVER. FOR.EV.ER. 

i literally, until a few months ago, had a shoebox full of cards from my babyshower.

no no, not the baby shower when i had my kids.

THE BABY SHOWER WHEN I WAS BORN ALMOST 40 YEARS AGO.

i have had this damn box of card and tags for 40 years. they've been schlepped to countless apartments with me. tucked away, taking up space...for...why??

b) in some twisted way i still saw those letters as my mom caring for me. and they were. in her twisted, religiously brainwashed way, she was telling me she cared. i get that. kinda. she wanted what was best for me. she wanted me to fit in and have friends as much as i wanted them. she was trying to help me develop good hygiene habits, help with chores, be responsible, be courteous, be helpful, be good. please the lord.

i get it. i do. in her way she was trying to help.

but holy. fuck. ya'll.

that was some fucked up "help" happening there.

and it's still deep in my head. those phrases: "...to have a friend you have to be a friend..." is right up there with "..no one will love you until you love yourself..." in the way it just absolutely fucks you up and makes you believe you don't deserve either of those things because you've never been able to make them happen.

so i burned those fuckers last night.

the last of those letters.

i burned them.

it was time to sever that tie. to acknowledge how damaging that was. to acknowledged that i did not deserve to have all that terrible programming shoved in my head as a kid.

it was time to let all that weight go.

that fire...man. fire and i have a very complicated relationship going WAY back.

fire and i....i have a long standing history with fire.

it terrifies me but it calls to me too. anytime i meditate i need a candle nearby. anytime i want to set intentions or process things there needs to be a fire of some sort. but i also lay awake at night constantly planning escape routes in case of fire and won't use a crock pot because it will burn down the house.

sure, i could have shredded those papers or just thrown them away but the fire called to me.

and damn if that wasn't a fire. as soon as i started throwing those letters into the burn barrel the flames just took over. i'm pretty sure at one point the whole barrel was glowing the fire was so hot.

and then after the last one was burned, after all the tears and all the processing and ALL the words ( i talk a LOT if you didn't know), as soon as it was all done, the full moon broke through all the clouds and the whole entire sky lit up like it was daylight and that weight on me was gone.

absolutely gone.

so. it's still been heavy shit this week.


i still feel like i'm not quite done breaking my brain and figuring out a few things.

but i'm getting there more and more each week.


huh. look at that. i DID know what to write.
 

things that aren't meant to be

hey, remember that time i went to london?

like...four months ago?

geeze- is that all? four months? let's see...thanksgiving, christmas, new years, valentines, st. patrick...yeah. four months. insane.

so. here's an update on all that since then:

i've been shockingly able to ration my cadbury chocolates for FOUR MONTHS. i'm eating a few now in celebration of the great chocolate holiday (aka: easter). seems only fitting to eat REAL cadbury on the pinnacle of all chocolate holidays.

also, since i've gotten back i've tried to keep in touch with new york. i knew he would be going through some tough times, and, honestly, i still held out a smidgen of hope that maybe when he got stationed back stateside...well...something. yanno? like maybe flying over there wasn't a total waste of time.

at first he would message a little bit. that soon changed into "i'm not talking to anyone, i just need my space," which turned into....*crickets*

yeah.

radio silence.

awesome. but i kept checking in like a good stalker friend does.

he slowly started to emerge from his cave and mentioned he was getting back out and getting around people. within a week this turned into "spending the weekend with my girlfriend" which turned quickly into NOT coming back stateside- it would be too hard on his dog to move. so he applied for two different positions in london to extend his tour overseas. 

i'm sorry...WHAT?

the guy that couldn't wait to get away from it all, get back to the states, get back to home and family? now can't move because it's too hard on his dog?

there's supposedly other logistical issues like making the divorce proceedings easier (which still haven't even started) and having to sell or move everything.

i'm surprisingly not even in the least heartbroken about this. it didn't even register on my scale other than this: huh. well, looks like i dodged that bullet.

i know. change of tune for me after flying half way around the world for my "one that got away."

here's what i realized: he's the type of person that can't stand to be alone for even a minute (which happens to be my number one trigger to bail). the sheets had barely cooled before he reached out to me. i had barely landed back stateside when he was starting to spend time with the now girlfriend (actually, interesting note- she "watched movies" with him the night before i got there). he doesn't want to have to move back state side and start looking again.

i got my chance to see the what might have been. i went to london. i'll never regret that i went. i would have regretted staying here and never knowing.

and now i can close that chapter. for good. with no sadness or looking back. it was beautiful for what it was. it's a sweet, young, romantic fairy tale and everyone deserves one of those at some point. mine happened to not be the happily ever after kind. at least this one anyway.

so: goodbye ryan. you'll always be one of my favorite memories.