The Slut’s conundrum

Slut.

I’m not sure what this means to me anymore…  I once thought that sharing your body intimately with another person should be reserved only for relationships where love was there or at least a potential to love….great admiration, perhaps?

My whole perspective on this has changed in the past 4 years of riding the viciously cruel DK roller coaster.  I haven’t been loved by another in four years, but I’ve loved a man and I’ve had sex with him countless times throughout this period.  And now I might be somewhat free from the painful chains holding me to him, but I do not know my capacity to love any more.  I can’t possibly know if I will ever feel a depth of emotion strong enough for another person in a romantic relationship to label it “love”.  I question my capacity to let myself venture there again at all.

It is painful to think of loving him so much and all we missed out on, as well as all the damage that he has done toying with my heart or four years.  I still can’t be certain I would agree it is better to have loved and lost..but I can finally say with absolute sincerity that the mutual loving experience of that relationship before it turned into something cruel and ugly, was the most beautiful experience I have ever had.  It hurts to think of the beauty of it..because it is gone..but I don’t fully resent it anymore.  I can actually feel a tinge of utter gratitude for having experienced a love that most people will never get the opportunity to know or even comprehend…  And while I still can’t fathom it will ever not hurt at ALL to have that memory and experience, I can qualify that into a category where I see that in some perspective I was truly very blessed and fortunate to have known it.

And now what?  My heart does not (thankfully!) fully reside with DK anymore, but it certainly still is not fully my own either.  Irony is that my capacity to love has diminished and grown overly cautious, but my capacity for compassion and forgiveness has exceeded limits I never would have imagined it could.  And I have always associated compassion and forgiveness with love…at least the deeply sincere kinds of compassion and forgiveness.  How can this be?

And…because of this experience am I now cursed to be what I previously considered a “slut”?  If I cannot love…(will not love?) is it acceptable to sexually connect with others under those circumstances?  When I KNOW I am in those circumstances?  Does this warrant me a life as the stereotypical tramp..the girl everyone uses to satisfy physical desire or fears of self-inadequacy?  I cringe at the thought of being used by so many…or by ANY one really and yet who am I to judge? I have allowed DK to use me to the extent that I feel worth little more than that.    If I cannot/will not (?) love, am I not for all intents and purposes, using others in my own way as well?  No matter how full of compassion and forgiveness my “usings” are…am I any better than anyone else who selfishly uses others for whatever their personal reasons might be.

I have allowed a man to use me to the point that my own self worth has shriveled to nothing… I reside in a place where I can’t even imagine another human being feeling genuine love for me… I am not worthy of that any longer.  I am a body with working pieces, a soul full of compassion and forgiveness, and a heart that is closed.  Who am I?  The slut I never imagined I could be…a monstrous creation formed from a beautiful relationship that went wrong and a love for another that would not subside…which has mutated me into a worthless tramp.  “Self righteous”, “teasing”,” save myself for love only” girl has mutated into its opposite…

And I believe that since the more sex without love you have in your life, the less love you have in general…the more the capacity to love shrivels further and further…then I self-create a continuation of the very thing I never wanted to be…

Or I join an Ashram and swear of all desires and thoughts of romantic love forever…?  Let agape flow from my heart through my outstanding capacity for compassion and forgiveness for humanity, while resigning myself to a life without personal love or selfish satisfactions.

I am a contradiction by definition of my character and spirit… and instead of resolving those contradictions, I, myself(with extraordinary assistance from DK), have dictated my life to expand my contradicting nature….perhaps making me the most unlovable and least respectable human being who has walked the earth…?

Overly dramatic?  Yes, of course!  And still I feel I cannot put precise enough conviction and explanation in my words or thoughts regarding the conundrum I and my life have become…..

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Dead

He died Saturday.  He’s dead.  I’m in shock and submerged in my grief.  Can’t eat.  Can’t sleep.  Can’t think.  Can’t love.   Is it true he died three years ago but I’ve been wrestling and playing with his ghost all this time?  Wrestling and playing with my sanity is probably a more apt description.

I have permission to be angry.  Permission to grieve.  Permission to self-consume in my broken misery.  Temporary permission only though.  I’ve already devoted three years to the ghost of love-past.  I’m  not afforded the luxury now to dwell here for long.  As much as it feels I can’t and as much as I don’t want to, life must go on.  I must insist that it does.  I have too many beautiful blessings to let this injustice end everything.

Death is a part of life.    It just is.  A part of me is dying even as I type this, but my physical body is still gripping to life and for that, I should be grateful, not resentful.  I’m fighting that resentment.  Fighting the pathetic wish to be as dead as he is.  I am alive and he is not.  There must be a reason for that and as much as nothing makes any sense to me right now, I’ll just  have to find it and go on.  I’m not in charge today.  Someone else is calling the shots.  No sense in fighting it.  It has been decided, determined, fated, destined.  I’m just a drop in the ocean of the bigger plan.  My job is to just be/do what I’m meant to be/do.

Dave K. is dead.  I must go on.

Blessings, broken dreams and loooonnng goodbye’s

Bittersweet goodbyes….. memories flooding…thoughts controlling

I am hungry for the future and yet I also feel so conflicted about time passing.  As though, I wish to sit in this place forever?    Why?  The further I get from the realityof my happiness dream, the more distant it becomes and difficult to hold on to.  Like travelling in a  time machine and trying to hold hands with the present.

I am not ready for my little girl to grow up so quickly.  I am not ready to give up onwhat must be sacrificed in order to gain peace and closure.  No, I am simultaneously more than ready (eager, almost!) and not at all (clinging to those hazy but beautiful dreamy clouds).  All at the same time.

Wanting to know the future and afraid of letting go of the past all at once.  What a ridiculous contradiction!!  As though somehow knowing the future will allow me to release my grip on the past?  Is that what my  subconscious thinks?  I know better than that for crying out loud!

I wonder if I’m more afraid of letting go than I’m afraid of him letting go?  What if I’m the glue that’s holding us to destiny?  What if I’m the thorn in our side holding us back? What if my little girl grows up and doesn’t adore me so much any more?

What about missing the present and damaging the future because you refuse to release the past?  When you spend so much time and energy desperately gripping those memories, aren’t you losing the opportunity to be making more?  Meanwhile, you’re gaining memories of holding onto memories while the present slips by…

My daughter crying because she missed him so much….that was so long ago.  Now she’s borderline hostile about him because she’s watched me suffer.  She’s watched me yo-yo, riding to the depths of hope and crashing harshly down just as quickly.  Did I lose her along the way?

Yesterday was her 2nd dance.  She danced with a boy four times and he held her hand for a moment!  Her life is rapidly propelling into the future.  I think she is well adjusted and healthy, considering the selfish misery of her mother over the past years.  She has the strength of confidence I never had.  She has the power of forever right in her vision, right now.  She doesn’t allow herself to dwell anywhere but in happiness and excitement.  I love that about her.  I hope and pray, in spite of everything, I’ve helped create and encourage that in her.

I’ve never been good at goodbyes.  I’ve avoided them like the plague since I was a small child with even just a minimal grasp of the sense of loss and grief.  As an adult, I’m obviously no better at it.

I didn’t even grieve my beloved cat until he was next to me.  It was as though I could not.  I don’t know how to grieve my little girl growing up now on my own either.

So my youngest says as we dropped off her sister, “I think I know how you feel Momma.”  You do?  How’s that baby? “Your little girl is growing up and it’s hard for you to watch.”

Gosh, the wisdom and vast compassion of children!  I’m so incredibly blessed.  How on earth did I get so lucky?!!???

Yes, sacrificing the dream of yesterday is worth enjoying the memories of today while drenched in the blessing of their love and health.

I’m the most blessed person in the universe!  Thank you.

Radical acceptance

To instill anticipation and forget about it?  Hmph!  I don’t have the freedom to make a choice in the matter.  Just random anticipation, which is like a watched pot.  It will never boil.  Or it will when I’m not looking.  How to stop looking?  It’s as though I can’t help myself but to keep peeking!  Again, no control.  Self or otherwise.  I never wanted control until I realized how much I didn’t have it…

My new rules, for the most part though, have been respected.  Daytime only  except once and I didn’t give in for that one either.  Given the schedules, it put strict limits on the situation.  Guess I’m just not used to having them respected.  Now that he’s not drinking, if he’s not drinking, that certainly will affect a great deal.  If I had any choices at this point, I’ve no clue what I’d do with that.  Feels a little like childhood.  It’s all random, so just take what you can get when you can.  It doesn’t matter if you don’t even want it.  Might not have any options when/if you decide you do want it.  Absolute lack of stability.  Funny how we do recreate our earliest challenges and choose to continue struggling through them.  And anticipating only brought disappointment…or worse yet, resentment.  Two things nothing can be done about  Blame doesn’t help.  Neither blaming self or others, that only generates more negativity to the situation.

So here I am again, wishing for consistency, even if that mean consistent cruelty.  It’s so much better than the whops from out of the blue.  And kindness and consideration just create that uneasiness waiting for the cruelty.  One could never relax in kindness.  One could never relax in cruelty because of the pain it creates.  Yet accepting the pain, anticipating that, always eventually does occur, so it seems far safer than any other inner options. 

How does pessimism jump in and permeate the self?  Suffocating that inner light of hope?  When  the only consistency is cruelty, yet you’ve allowed yourself to anticipate otherwise.  Knocks the breath  out of hope.  Slowly smothers it with every act of kindness that opens the heart to hope for another kindness.  And heaven forbid when you’ve let yourself go so far as to think kindness is becoming the norm!  That’s a sure path to the ultimate death of the optimistic light which carries one through the darkness and helps alleviate the pain of cruelty.  Acceptance of what is.  Count the majority and ignore the other sporadic instances of what must be just moments of sheer confusion, creating happenstance kindness.  With such radical acceptance, doesn’t death of the spirit of hope instantaneously occur?  Unless you’ve figured a way to stop believing or caring anyway to protect yourself from it, it seems inevitable.  Radical acceptance and pessimism (that tiny little death of spirit) are married.

Words of Wisdom

Let It Be

The Beatles (Lennon/McCartney)

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is
Still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be. Yeah
There will be an answer, let it be.

And when the night is cloudy,
There is still a light that shines on me,
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Hmmmmm

I have recently been gripped with the calmest sensation of deep fear.  It seems as though I’m simultaneously apprehensive and yet calm with unattachment to whatever it might be.  I suppose at some point when you’ve been tossed around like a ragdoll long enough, you get somewhat numb to the effects…  Or do you just feel as though very little else can drastically shock you?  I’m not at all sure what this is, but it’s a fascinating sensation!

Change…change…change…transformation is inevitable and much appreciated…ahhhhhhhhh….