A Visitation - If Only For a Moment

A particular person from my past has been occupying my mind frequently lately. Not a romantic past, although those kinds of thoughts existed once upon a time. It just wasn't in the cards for that relationship.

The thing is that he's gone now, and I never said goodbye. I'm sure he waited for me to reach out for that, but I stupidly - so stupidly - told myself I had more time.  Then, I didn't.  All of a sudden, the window closed, and one of my deepest regrets opened.

I think about that a lot. the words of James Taylor's "Fire and Rain" say it for me: "I always thought that I'd see you again."  

I often wonder if he knows that, if he knows the special part of my heart he occupies.  The dead come close to me - often - but I haven't known if he does.  Did my silence hurt him enough that even his spirit avoids me?

Early this morning, in my dreamscape, I was in what seemed to be an airport. Not surprising, as the desire for travel has been strong lately.  I was watching the people milling around, on their way here and there.  I stood still, watching from a doorway.

Then, from around the corner to my right, came my friend. His intention was to come to see me. As he stepped around the corner, his eyes swept along the milling crowds, with an expression that seemed to say, "Well, here I am now."

I don't usually recall my dreams. But I can see him clearly still. The trimmed haircut and beard. His bright eyes. The slight smirk. He wore a polo-style shirt, with a yellow collar, and yellow and white stripes. I can still feel the waffle-like weave of the fabric as I quite literally leaped to hug him to me as he turned to me. 

"I thought I'd never see you again!" I was exclaiming as we hugged each other. My joy was overwhelming - I could tell him all the things I wish I had.

Then, the airport started fading, the people disappeared around us. 

No no no!  Don't wake me up now! I held on tighter, took in all the details I could as he silently slipped away from me again. 

I fought it, but my waking consciousness took over...and I was alone in my room, in the dark, my arms empty. My words still unsaid.

I miss him so much, for so many reasons.  Not for the things I wish I'd said, but for all the things we shared.  I'll believe I got to hug him again, for what it was worth.

Such a different world

Dear Diary, my last writing to you want almost two years ago. Not only have things in my life happened, but we also now live in a different world.  The pandemic has changed things in unimaginable ways. World events have shaped and changed us, as well.  Personally, I find myself in a pit, and I need to find the ;adder out.

This blog is my only shot to find the first rung, I think. I have things I need to say that I cannot say to anyone else.  I don't want to usual dance of, "No!  All will be well!" or "Thoughts and pryers for you!" No, I need to be real.

My office sent everyone home to work nearly a yea ago, when lockdown happened.  We have not been back yet. In some ways, things got better, but in many ways they got worse.  Our boss is in control overdrive. Why hire people who are experts in their field, if you don't trust them to do the work autonomously?  The pressure is intense, and the appreciation is low.

I feel the need for a change, but I'm at a place in my life where I must make moves very carefully and deliberately. If I had my 'druthers, I'd be in Yorkshire. I'd have a flat or even a cottage in York, surrounded by history and cloudy says.  I'd spend my days exploring snickleways (is that not the best word?) and perusing museums, and generally living among the good ghosts.  Maybe I could tell their stories, as well.

Someday, I will make that happen.  I don't know how, but that's where my heart is.

At the same time, I hide myself. Pandemic living has not been good for my health. I also feel my loneliness intensely.  All I ever wanted was my love story.  After being repeatedly smacked down, I've finally gotten the message: no love story is intended for me.  It is not to be.  No one exists who wishes to love me in that unselfish, caring, mutually-cherished way that love should be.  No. One. Cares.  At least, not in a romantic sense.

And who can blame them? I look in the mirror, and I don't know that person. I despise everything I see. I voiced that once, and the response I got was, "No one else sees you that way. You're beautiful."  They are mistaken, and I can prove it.

I put it to the test, pre-pandemic. It was intended to be a passionate few days.  However, I proved to be so repulsive, so repugnant, that someone who loves women of all kinds had no desire for me.  That was the final confirmation of my abject ugliness. I've become a misshapen monster. Who cares if the path that led me here is not my fault - the outcome is the same.

I have always been, and always will be someone that people easily walk away from and forget. Again and again.  I just do not matter.  It's pretty bad when even God doesn't want you.

But my dog needs and loves me.  That thought has seen me through some horrible times.

So, that's my current brain dump. I don't know what I'll make of it, but I hope writing about it helps. I doubt anyone else will ever see this, but that's okay. Writing it means I don't have to chase the words around my brain anymore.  I can make room for new words.

Until next time, dear Diary.

I Could Never Be a Gamer

Don't get me wrong - I have nothing at all against games or gamers. I admire them, actually.  They have a talent and intelligence that eludes me.  I'm not good at games and have never been.  It doesn't even matter what kind of game. It could be cards, board games, video games...I'm no good at them.

This is also why I don't want to be upper-level management.  I'm dreadful at political games.  My brain just does not work that way.  I want people to be who they are and say what they think.  I do that and expect no less from others.  I do not have a poker face.  My thoughts are obvious.  My countenance has betrayed me many times.  Subterfuge, plotting, scheming...I just have no aptitude in these arenas.

That includes mind games, as well.

I've come to realize that I live with a manipulative person. For as much as she says she hates when people try to manipulate her, she does the same thing. She has become intensely negative and wallows in self-pity, quite often. The worst part is the martyr syndrome, though.

The thing is that I fell for it again this morning.  I let her manipulate me and provoke me, and I played right into what she wanted.  Honestly, she could have just said what she wanted, but that would not have accomplished the entire picture.

I'm partly blind, but it's been necessary for me to drive myself places more and more often.  I can pass all of the state tests, so I have a license, but it can be scary for me sometimes.  Still, I can't always have a ride, so there it is.

It started out as, "Do you think you can do this?" We'd discuss it for days and do trial runs.  We'd monitor the forecast because I have a lot of trouble seeing when it rains.

Then, it became, "You will need to drive on these days."

Now, it's an assumption.  It's "I'm going out of town," and I just need to figure it out. See ya and good luck with it!

Today was a day when we were going to ride together.  I'd paid her for gas ahead of time.  But I knew something was up today, when she came into my area and wasn't even speaking to me.  Total silence.

When she spoke, it was, "I'm so tired today."

"You need to be using your C-PAP," I said. It is true. There's an issue with it, and she's not getting it fixed, but it's been a real problem lately.

I accidentally dropped one of the dogs' treats. She dropped to the ground and started crawling around for it.  Here we go, i thought.  This is an action that she physically can't do, and it did not need to be done.  This would take care of itself.  So, that she was doing that meant it was a "throwing myself on the sword" thing, as a good martyr would.

We get in the car, and she sighs heavily.  "I'm just so tired."

"Why don't I drive today?"

She turns a pitiful look to me.  "I'd like that but I just couldn't ask that of you."

WTF?? She doesn't even bother to ask it anymore!

I said, "But you ask me to do that all the time."

That was the opening. And she walked through it with all indignation. "ALL the time? I ask ALL the time?"

And we're off!  I handed her the thing she can pick on to be "hurt" that I would say something so inaccurate.  If I'd thought ahead, I'd have known this would be the gift she was waiting for.  See, to me, "all the time" means the thing is commonplace. To her, "all the time" is literal; it means that she spends 100% of her waking time asking me the question, "Can you drive today?" Extremely literal.  And she pounced on it.

The situation degraded from there. I knew I'd been set up to feed the self-pity, and I said so.  "I guess I'm not allowed to feel tired," she added. Her need to make me the villain and her the victim was pretty thick.

"You are NOT allowed to pick on me," I said.  There was no escape from the manipulative behavior, until I literally escaped from the car and entered my own.

I wasn't too far away when I realized I'd forgotten my parking pass for work.  I had to call to let her know I was coming back.  How did she sound?  Pleased as punch.

I'd handed her exactly what she wanted.  Dammit.  I'm so bad at handling these games.

This is my life.  I'm so tired.  I have to make a change.  Before it's too late.

To Dream the Impossible Dream

I have this feeling of time moving too fast, and I don't seem to have enough of it left.  I'm feeling my mortality, I suppose. I have fewer days ahead than behind, and I'm none too happy with how I've used my time so far.

Stress is obliterating my health lately.  I need to get that under control, in a way I've never been able to before.  Why is it that I feel strong and committed and ready to tackle it all when I'm in the shower, then it all falls apart when someone says, "Want a bagel?"  Which is super bad for me, by the way.  I would actually be better off eating a donut, if that says anything.  But yes, I stress eat.  That's BAD.

Last week, I learned that I now have high blood pressure.  I've never had high blood pressure. If anything, it goes low.  But I also have an insulin pump, a continuous glucose monitor, and pain.  You know what's hilarious?  The joint of my middle finger gets stuck. Overuse, maybe?

You know what all of this adds up to?  A decidedly hideously unattractive person.  As funny and nice as people think I am, I'm in no way considered a romantic partner.  I have a coworker who everyone is convinced should be dating me. I've bene told, and he's been told.  He calls me damn near every day.  And what do we talk about?  Among other things, his dating life.  The one that never, ever includes me.

God, what I wouldn't give to have that moment again, where you know someone really wants to kiss you. You know?  I honestly suspect that I will never have that again.  Only in memories. Or fantasies.

So, I'm not at all living the life that I want.  I feel the pressure to get ON with it.  To salvage what time I have left finding my joy, if that's even possible.  The pages are flying off of the calendar, and I feel desperate about it.

Before anything else, I have to - HAVE TO - get my health under control.  I've recently watched my ex-husband get gastric bypass surgery, but the aftermath was horrible. Constantly being sick.  I have too much of an aversion to vomiting.  He's dropped a bunch of weight - but he's still an asshole.  And he looks so old. I seriously doubt I could do that without wanting to just walk into the ocean and end it all.

Maybe if I was an attractive person things would go better.  There, I said it.  I see things go ridiculously well for the attractive people of the world, often just because someone takes a shine to them.

Then, I have to get my work sorted out.  How can I make it happen?

All the while, I need to find my center again.  I need to find tranquility. Peace.  I think it's asking too much to find happiness, but just calm my mind.

My pie in the sky dream would be to spend an extended amount of time in Yorkshire.  I feel like I belong there.  It draws me, all day and all night.  Le sigh. Do I dare hope?

I AM The Actual Worst

I am actually the worst.  I vow to blog, and I don't blog.

But I'm back.  No, really.  You can believe me this time.  I think.

To be honest, I need you, dear Diary.  I need someone to talk to. Someone I can just spill it to, who will be free of judgment, free of agenda. Somewhere I can just say the ugly things. I mean, the things that just might make me seem awful. Those inexpressible thoughts.

Sometimes, I might sound self-pitying.  I'm actually not, just so you know.  These are things I just need to SAY.  To get them out of my head.  And no, I am not currently suicidal. I'll just get that out of the way.  I'm too much afraid of The End to hasten it.

Where to begin....  In short, it's been a bad time. For years now.  I've become convinced that, yes, God loves his children, in that innate way parents do.  I believe he exists.  I have faith that he exists. But life on this earth has taught me that he just doesn't like some of us.  He doesn't really have an interest in seeing us at his side again.  He has his favorites.  And I am not one of them.

I see a lot of "Jesus loves you!" around here.  I'm convinced of that.  But you have to understand my faith; I believe God/Heavenly Father/whatever-name-you-have-for-him and Jesus are separate beings. Divine entities who are The Father and The Son, separately.  Jesus is my brother, and he loves me. He sees what our father does to me, and I imagine him shrugging and saying, "Wow, that was uncalled for.  I don't know why he did that to you.  I'm sorry.  There, there. Want a hug?"

Okay, so there. I said it.  God does not like me. He doesn't want me. He jerks me around and plays with my happiness.  It is sport to him.  Tease me with the happy thing, then yank it out from under me.  I can about hear him laughing when I'm picking myself up off the floor, too.

That is a little of where I'm coming from.  This post isn't going to put it all out there.  I have too much to say and to work out.  I need to think. A LOT.  I think best when I can express it and think while I talk. So, here I am.  Aren't you the lucky one, Diary?  Ha.

A quick synopsis of where my life is, at the moment:

I've been on the East Coast over three years now.  I share a home with my mother, my grown son, and apparently, with his pal who has gradually moved in with us.  Daughter got married last year and is deliriously happy.  Her husband is wonderful.  They live and go to school on the other side of the state.  I have two dogs who mean the world to me, and it pains me that one of them is getting old.

I am partly blind for nearly five years now, and I work full time at a job that sucks  You'll hear about that.  What I actually do is pretty cool, but the context of where I am and what the management does makes it all so difficult.

And finally...romance.  None. Zilch. Zero.  No relationship in my life, and none on the horizon.  I'm looking at the very real possibility of spending the remainder of my life alone.  As this blog attests, I've had a terrible history with relationships. I have more thoughts on that, but it will take awhile to sort out.

So, dear Diary, I'm back.  Buckle up.  I honestly don't know how this ride will go.

The Non-Saturday

It's Saturday, and I'm at work. I should maybe point out that I work a regular Monday to Friday, 8-5 job, so being here is unusual. For most people. But not for me and this job. The workload they give us is one that's impossible to do (by the deadlines) if you just work the normal hours.  So, being here, in my office is not that unusual.

Sad, but not unusual.

It's particularly sad when the rest of my family is off doing the thing that I've been wanting to do.  It's hard to hear them say, "You know that thing you've been wanting to do, but we keep putting it off?  We're going to go do it without you."

So many things make me sad lately.

I used to think that God hates me, but now I've been shown that it's absolutely true.  "God loves all of his children," they like to say.  He does not.  He has favorites. And He has those that just get kicked around.  I'm among the kicked around ones.  Sometimes, people ask if I believe in God.  Yes, I do. I know He exists.  But I also know that the promises of His love do not include me.

I'm on my own.

For the longest time - my whole life -  I have wished for my great love story.  Part of me is trying to wrap my head around the idea that it will never exist for me.  The rest of me keeps looking and wondering.  And I wonder if it's something that I really want in the here and now?  Because I have this inkling of an idea that is getting stronger.

I only feel at home when I am in England. Yorkshire, specifically.  It could be a generational memory.  I've done the research, and the roots are there.  Ancestors born in Yorkshire.  Their DNA is in me and perhaps their love of it is what I feel, too.  I can't be sure of the why and the how, but the what is definitely there.

So, if I am going to make a plan to relocate my life, or even most of it, overseas, then do I need or want a love here, who might not want to go?  Or want me to go?

Ah, the ways I can complicate my life!

But I do miss that little thrill of hearing the phone ding, and seeing a special someone's name.  And I miss being kissed. Such a long time.,,,

I've missed you, dear Diary.

Two years? It's really been two years since I posted here?  So much has changed.

Why have I been absent? Because my life is in a constant state of insanity. Work is intense. Two years ago, I had no idea the kind of stress and pressure I'd walked into here.  Now, it's all stress and pressure.

Recently, I have seriously considered moving to England. No, really!  To be with BB, you ask, dear Diary?  No...not to be with BB. A few months ago, we decided to just be friends again. Yes, we still have love for one another, but we were each spending a lot of time feeling sad and lonely, being apart.  I told him that I'd rather he be happy than waiting around for us to be geographically together.

I missed my trip to see him in 2016, having surgery at the exact date and time that I was supposed to be stepping on a plane to Manchester.  I surprised him last year, but couldn't stay as long as usual.  I guess we weren't meant to be romantically together.

Other things that are new (I'll try to be brief).....

We lost my dad's brother and his wife to injuries sustained in a car accident, last year. That has been rough on the family, to lose both brothers so close together.

I've seen SO MANY historical sites and seriously cool things while living here.  I'll revisit some for you :)  This is a great area, and a good move for us.

Son has a Real Job.  Benefits and all!  I feel a little better about his future...if he'd only get a place of his own, now!  Time to launch, birdie.

A couple of months ago, a very difficult event happened.  Our home burned.

Ten days later.... Daughter got married!  Her husband is amazing. They are two sides of the same coin. I couldn't have chosen better for her.

And me? Things are not what I thought they'd be at almost-50.

Right now, my life is...I'm not sure what it is.  I have a lot of thoughts.  A lot of things to express in a space where my family isn't watching.  I have thoughts they wouldn't like.  And I have many topics to talk about.

I've missed you, dear Diary.  But now I'm back.