Wednesday, May 03, 2006

It's Been Two Weeks And...

(like the stereotypical woman who always changes her mind) I kinda miss this blog. True to my word, I've been posting on a private blog, even getting around to putting up some smashing pictures (modesty is not one of my strong points), which I haven’t done here in a while. It feels wonderful to have the freedom to say whatever I want without worrying what others might think of me.

But there's that interactive element missing and it's taking a toll on me. I love when I know people are visiting and reading about my life and soaking in my artwork. I love when I get feedback that inspires me to take a better picture or consider a new direction in my life but I hate, hate, HATE when I've hurt someone with my careless words or worse yet see someone visit all the time but never post a comment (ahem, DAD)- it makes me wonder what I'm doing wrong. Why do I torture myself like this? Why do I care so much?

I guess it's because I am not me unless I am the me that is reflected through the eyes of others. Hmm, does that make any sense? Does that contradict things I've said here in the past about being myself around others? How do I truly know who I am unless I reveal myself to someone else?

I don't have the answers and I'm not sure whether to return here or not.

I'm just a little lonely and a little sleep deprived (actually a whole lot of both at the moment). And I heard about the Big Fat Carnival submission for blog entries going on over at Alas, a blog. I'm tempted to participate because if there's one thing I know, it is what it feels like to be a fat woman who longs to talk about sex (and yes, admittedly do more than simply talk about it). And as far as I'm concerned, the words sex and fat need to be addressed together more often. I could go on for pages and pages about the two subjects and combine them into a heartbreaking and personal narrative. And I could post it here and bare my soul. It'd sure be a hell of a returning post. Then again, I fear what others might say about me (or worse yet, what they may not) and it keeps me from leaping fearlessly from the ledge I’m perched on.

We’ll see…

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Die Unendliche Geschichte (The Neverending Story)

"Where were we?" Engywook asked.
"At the Great Riddle Gate," Atreyu reminded him.
"Right. Now suppose you've managed to get through. Then - and only then - the second gate will be there for you. The Magic Mirror Gate. As I've said, I myself have not been able to observe it, what I tell you has been gleaned from travelers' accounts. This second gate is both open and closed. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? It might be better to say: neither closed nor open. Though that doesn't make it any less crazy. The point is that this gate seems to be a big mirror or something of the kind, though it's made neither of glass nor of metal. What it is made of, no one has ever been able to tell me. Anyway, when you stand before it, you see yourself. But not as you would in an ordinary mirror. You don't see your outward appearance; what you see is your real innermost nature. If you want to go through, you have to - in a manner of speaking - go into yourself."
"Well," said Atreyu. "It seems to me that this Magic Mirror Gate is easier to get through than the first."
"Wrong!" cried Engywook. Once again he began to trot back and forth in agitation. "Dead wrong, my friend! I've known travelers who considered themselves absolutely blameless to yelp with horror and run away at the sight of the monster grinning out of the mirror at them. We had to care for some of them for weeks before they were even able to start home."
"We!" growled Urgl, who was passing with another bucket of water. "I keep hearing we. When did you ever take care of anybody?"
Engywook waved her away.
"Others," he went on lecturing, "appear to have seen something even more horrible, but had the courage to go through. What some saw was not so frightening, but it still cost every one of them an inner struggle. Nothing I can say would apply to all. It's a different experience each time."
"Good," said Atreyu. "Then at least it's possible to go through this Magic Mirror Gate?"
"Oh yes, of course it's possible, or it wouldn't be a gate. Where's your logic, my boy?"
"But it's also possible to go around it," said Atreyu. "Or isn't it?"
"Yes indeed," said Engywook. "Of course it is. But if you do that, there's nothing more behind it. The third gate isn't there until you've gone through the second."

That scene in The Neverending Story where Atreyu winds up in front of the magic mirror, fearful of what he might see within his reflection has always scared me tremendously. Ever since I was a young child, I feared that if I were to step up and do the same thing, what I would see in the mirror image would be absolutely horrifying.

I am afraid of who I am. There are so many negative aspects to my personality that I often feel like a selfish and bratty monster. It’s not like that all of the time. But whenever I mull over the events of my life, I can’t help but feel a resounding sense of regret for a great many things that I have said or done. I do not make friends easily. It’s even harder to keep them. I am inherently lazy. I am brutally honest when I shouldn’t be. I have very few successes, awards or talents to my name. The debris from my life that lies all around me is covered with mounting and painful regrets.

But one thing lately that I have not regretted is this blog. It is by no one’s standard a success- except to me. I have never been able to keep a diary for longer than a week. I’ve often found my understanding of the English language (a language I’ve spoken my whole life) to be woefully inadequate. I hate grammar and spelling. I think far better and easier than I write (and speak for that matter). I have trouble expressing the way that I feel on the inside, the things that I imagine, the worlds that I dream, concepts that I intuitively embrace without being able to back up with proper thought and reason. Sometimes I wonder if I have some sort of “articulation dyslexia”. I can think just fine but when it comes to forming words in my mouth and sentences through my fingers, I often get it jumbled. So I never gave much thought to finding one particular place to leave a record of what I experienced. It didn’t seem like it could be a positive endeavor for me.

I started this blog mainly to keep in touch with my friends and family back home in the Midwest. I also wanted a log of my weight loss, which was quickly becoming a successful venture for me. The photographs happened later on by pure chance and they not only changed the way I saw the world, but the way I saw myself as well. Eventually I got over my fear of sharing myself here and I began to reveal private things that I was going through or had experienced in my life. Through that process I found that I was changing. I was evolving into a “better” person. And I had audience to watch it unfold.

When I realized my audience was growing, and I had a handful of friends and family stopping by on an almost daily basis, I began to wonder what they would think about something I might say or post here. This blog became less and less anonymous and I began to feel as if I was insulting people left and right whenever I expressed something that they didn’t like. Some people said I couldn’t possibly be an atheist, for it didn’t match with what they knew of me. Some felt that I was sharing too much of my life here- intimate details that weren’t fit for print (never mind that they always returned the next day for an update). For a time I contemplated going back to the bare bones of just my photographs and their titles. No more sharing. But something in me said that just wasn’t right.

In a recent conversation regarding the content of my blog, I realized that I upset someone, whether they admit to it or not. It wasn’t my intention to do so, (and it never is any time that I post something here), but whenever it does happen (and lately it seems like this happens more and more), I find out just a little bit more about myself and the people in my life. This latest round helped me to see the man behind the curtain who had previously been disguised as a powerful Wizard. That may sound like a negative response on my part, but in reality it’s just a clearer understanding of another human being as they truly exist.

I do like discovering different levels of understanding that can happen between myself and another person when we share with one another, however the process is often painful and not always successful. Or at least, it doesn't have an easy and definable outline of immediate achievement. I’m still learning what the proper amount of personal stuff is that I can safely share with another human being without being judged too harshly. I have times where I feel completely open to share whatever and times where I’m so tightly closed up that nothing can get through. My blog archives illustrate this with the months of silence, the summer of a thousand photographs and the gradual emergence of my true self, the long posts of my latest failed relationship, and the recent (mostly) deliberate absence of photographs in favor of many FOW (found on the web) items and links. It is a back and forth struggle that I find is difficult to maintain and difficult to reflect on.

The point that I’m trying to make is that I can’t be myself here any longer. I can’t be who I am and who I am becoming in front of an audience of people that know me personally. I may not have the luxury of choosing to hide in real life, but I am able to do that online. So I’m exercising my option and going anonymous.

I can't and won't stop writing in a blog and posting my photographs. Where I am headed, I do not know. But one thing is for sure, recording it for my personal benefit is significantly helpful to my personal journey. Getting it all down on paper (or webpage as the case may be) is helping in surprising ways. When I can look back and review my thoughts from a couple months ago, or even a couple of years, I find that I have a tangible measure of success for myself simply because I am paying attention to what’s going on in my head and in my life. Intuitively I know that I’m doing something right in documenting as much of this journey as possible and letting it become a Neverending Story for myself. So for now, I am going to continue to record the story in a quiet corner of the web where I don't have to worry about sharing so much with everyone else.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Guess which one I'm doing for my birthday!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Why Should I Be Anyone But Me… Especially When I’m Around You?

Someone I know does not have a good relationship with one of his/her parents. Sadly, if I chose not to elaborate on that sentence, it could describe several people in my life right now, including me. Some of my friends are recovering from abusive parental relationships. Some are dealing with the effects of an absent parent or mostly absent one. Many are coping with divorce and step-family issues. Everyone finds that the relationship they have with their parent has impacted certain key aspects of their life- living arrangements, major life choices, wedding etiquette, significant relationship preferences… the list goes on and on.

As I continue on my journey of self-discovery, learning that it’s good to fully realize who I am as a person and share that with others in my life, I find it shocking that some people can not be themselves around their parents and I’m appalled when they hide much of their true identity. It seems rather counterintuitive to be someone else around family members that should accept you no matter what (and yes, I know I should take into account the fact that many people are dysfunctional and just because they are card carrying members of a particular family unit doesn’t automatically make them saints… or even respectable people! But that’s how it should be and it’s always nice to work towards an ideal, even a far-fetched one at that). I’ve had certain unacceptable behaviors and events relayed to me over the years and its just shocking that these people don’t stand up for what they know is right- whether that be to an alcoholic parent, an abusive relationship, a controlling and judgmental relative, or even a racist or homophobic mind-set. It’s sad what we let happen when we don’t stand up for ourselves.

One person I know in particular can’t be himself around his mother. And it’s such a travesty. I say that because he is an incredible person with a great many talents. He does a lot of good in this world, sometimes just by being himself and letting others learn from his subtle example. To have to hide certain things about himself, characteristics that represent the absolute best parts of his personality, seems like a double tragedy. Not only is he faking who he is around her, but he’s faking it around himself too. I wish I could inspire him the way he inspires me to be my true self. Perhaps he’d stand up more to unwarranted criticism and disapproval from her.

Of course, I say all this in the midst of my own family issues. Ever since this whole polymory thing went down, my relationship with my father has been terribly strained. We don’t really speak to each other these days. He didn’t agree with my views and my choices and I didn’t think I needed to justify my true self to him. More so than any other time in my life, my right path and my right self is coming into a much clearer focus. I’m not going to switch lens to please someone else when I recognize that I’m finally getting somewhere. And I find it all highly ironic. He can’t understand that these changes I’ve made are making me a better person all around. They are making me the person I’ve always aspired to be- the person that I would want others to be proud of. How can something so good be such a disappointment to someone else? My mother says that he’s proud of me but it’s incredibly difficult for me to see that. And it’s hard for me to accept this conditional pride that he has based on only a few pieces and accomplishments of my life. If I were the parent, I would love myself completely and I would be proud of the strides that I’m making across the board. I don’t understand this inability to appreciate how wondrous it is when someone is learning to love themselves and make a better life for themselves. What is so wrong with me that he can’t just love and trust me to do what is intuitively right for me? It breaks my heart. But ultimately as a result, it teaches me how not to raise my own child someday.

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself. –quoted from Lao-tzu

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

What is it About a Broken Heart That Brings Out the Absolute Worst Clichés?!?

I don't feel like talking to anyone right now because I keep hearing all the pat responses that people feel obligated to say when someone's heart is crushed:

Love will come when you least expect it

You must love yourself before anyone else will

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

I so totally disagree with this one. It isn't all that bad to have never loved at all. You won't know what you're missing!

Time heals all wounds
But only after it pours gallons of salt in first.

Every storm cloud has a silver lining

And that's something to look forward to after you've been electrocuted by lightning?

There are plenty of other fish in the sea

That which does not kill us makes us stronger

Tomorrow is a new day
...To wake up and remember all over again why you're so depressed in the first place!

Some day your prince will come/ You’ll find your pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
But how many leprechauns do I have to kiss first?

Live and learn
And get bitten in the ass over and over and over again...

Look before you leap

Love is blind
And deaf. And dumb. Perhaps even profoundly retarded.

That’s the way the cookie crumbles

You are better off without them

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade
Can I add vodka to my lemonade? Actually, can I just skip the lemonade part all together and go straight for the vodka?

You made your bed, now you have to lay in it.

You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t
Ain't dat da truth!

So if I seem a bit withdrawn, it's not because I don't want to talk to you. It's really because I don't want to hear the same advice over and over again. I'm hurting. I’m depressed. It sucks. And the dopey clichés just don't help at the moment. Don’t take it personally.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Quote O' The Day

“When you're a pessimist, you're rarely ever disappointed. You expect the worst to happen and if it doesn't, then you're pleasantly surprised. But if what you expected actually occurs, well then you were just plain right all along.”

-A.M. Sutherland

Monday, March 27, 2006

Who Says I Can't Do That?

I may be in a lotta pain right now and pissed at the whole freaking world and the supposed heavens above but there's no reason that I can't buy the skinniest pair of jeans (and cheapest- $10!) I've ever owned and belly dance in them all Sunday afternoon!

I soooooooo needed that too.

It was nice to have that little voice in my head change tunes for a while and whisper "I feel sexy" in my ears. I spent the whole day in my living room, doing chores, wiggling my ass off, and watching TV in these jeans. I really didn't want to take them off. I'm even wearing them to work today too. They're just that hot.

I'm so shallow and I couldn't give a flippin’ fudge at this very second.

But hey, as an almost former fat girl, I should get a bit of a break now and then. Since I've had no appetite the last two weeks, I've lost 8 lbs. That brings my grand total to 68.5. Still, a part of me would gladly give up the skinny jeans and be a happy fat chick if I was able to remain in a perpetually blissful state of love...