I haven't been able to sleep lately, probably more so after speaking with my married couple friends this past weekend and asking them their opinion about contacting my ex. "But she's always on my mind," I explained, "I only want closure from the situation." They both looked at each other as if it was clear I was just going through the grieving motions of someone still broken hearted. "It will pass," he said to me. "Believe me, I've been through this before. You think about that person for a while after, but eventually it ceases to have the same effect on you that it is having now." Everything they were saying to me was true. Our relationship, even via outside eyes was less than perfect. I had put her on a pedestal of greatness and now, here I am dwelling on your absence but I don't even remember what made you so great.
I suppose that is what makes never having closure with someone so difficult. If indeed, closure is what you think you need. The problem is I still think of her. Perhaps, almost everyday. It used to be 'scenes' of the past that would jog my memory or something she said to me that stuck. Now, more often than not, it is just thinking of her. Where she is, how she would talk to me if we did speak, how we might serendipitously encounter each other again - her, visiting her family in my neighbourhood of Toronto and us bumping into each other at the local bakery/cafe. I can't believe I just wrote that, but I am almost not ashamed to say that this really has stayed with me. I secretly wish those things would happen just so I could see her again and go 'Aha! You're ordinary!' and feel relieved to just tell her I wish it would have ended differently.
Part of me is in incredulous that I still think of that relationship that ended over one year and 7 months ago. How long does this process take? I just want to forget about it already, but it has its way of coming back to me. I think it hits me worst at night. I am 29 and just recently moved back to live with my parents amid a life change that I am making. I don't have my own apartment, or car, and I spend more nights than not here in my parent's study on my laptop. I do go out, but I am rediscovering my city after spending several years living abroad and away. It is almost the complete opposite to my former self to be back in my childhood house, and because I need to re-build friendships here in the city, it will take sometime till life is "normal" again. So, in the evenings when I am alone and everything is quiet I think of her.
Last night, before I went to bed I was reading. Upon finishing the chapter, I was genuinely tired, and in my freshly washed sheets I knew I was going to sleep soundly. This morning when I woke up abruptly to the sound of my cell phone alarm I realized I had dreamt something. I recognized there was a woman in my dream, to whom I could not distinguish, but she was not her. She was someone who captured me in the chaos of my dream, but it was not her. I was glad. It was someone different. It felt hopeful.
I often ask myself 'When?', when will I forget and fully move forward. I know that I cannot answer that. I know that it is a feeling. One that I have experienced time and time before, but for other reasons. I can say nothing profound at this point. It is time, only time, and I suppose it will be a little while. G'day.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Baby, it's snowy outside
This morning, I sat in our den looking through the living room windows that my Dad is anxiously waiting to cover with newly-bought shutters. The snow was falling, lightly, silently, gently, covering the window sills with in a white, powder puff. There was a tranquility about it, something that I felt deep within me but that I couldn't quite discern when I had felt that same way watching the snow. Minutes later, it dawned on me. It was a the winter of 2010 and I had gone skiing with Sarah's family in Whistler. Not a care in the world and the whole world ahead of me to explore, I was as carefree as a hawk in the fields, enjoying every wintry, cold moment to its fullest but feeling warm and loved all the while. Skiing a full day, coming back to a traditional, wooden log cabin with the people you love and care for, sipping on hot chocolate and whiskey, going to bed with the woman you love and cuddling up to her warm and supple body while drifting off into a long, deep sleep. That was when I once watched the snowflakes fall from another window as I lay, stomach-down, on the rug, close to the open fire studying from my Spanish textbook. It was another time, but a happy one.
Presently, I am watching these light flakes descend slowly to the ground of the library parking lot. My view, the large and tall rectangular windows of my local, public library, 5 minutes from my parent's home. I am not sipping whiskey and hot chocolate, I am not with anyone but myself, and I am about to open my Verbal reasoning notebook to start studying again for the MCAT, the medical entrance exam. It is a feeling that I can only describe as what it might feel like to have won the lottery a few years ago and then have lost it all gambling foolishly after which, you find yourself broke and alone, sitting only with memories of something that once was. Am I sad? No, I don't think so. Am I lonely? I am not sure I would say lonely, but I do reminsce from time to time about those days, a feeling of love and longing that I am sure will come again any time soon. (that was a typo but I'll leave it....something unconscious about that...)
It is times like these where people say you are meant to be alone. To forget about the past and stop living in it - move forward, but remain present. This is how we grow. To look forward is not always helpful, plan, yes, but live for the future, no. I can say this with full confidence. The past three years I was so eager for the future to come and to 'start' my life, I am now here three years later and part of me feels I wasn't present for the last three either. I haven't started anything. I have learned a lot though. Looking back isn't good either. I think of Sarah often. Too often perhaps. It is odd, I am not sure that I remember what being with her was really like, but I certainly remember how I felt. I felt happy. I felt in love.
Now, my outlook is different. Now, instead of looking back and looking forward. I am working on a day-to-day basis on being positive. On being respectful. On making others smile every chance I get and spreading good cheer, so to speak. Not just because it's the holiday season, but because if we are not positive and happy everyday, but good is life? What good is it to wait until we are? What good is it to hope that that day is 3 years from now, when in fact it isn't? It is now. I can't say that I don't wake up every morning to a what I like to call a drawn brain cloud. The type of cloud scribble that you draw with a black pen on white paper. A cartoon line cloud, tangled, convoluted, messy. Yep, it's like the Charlie Brown scribble is smack-dab and center in my mind every morning...but one day I will wake up soon and that scribble will be gone. That it when I will have forgiven myself and truly let go.
Presently, I am watching these light flakes descend slowly to the ground of the library parking lot. My view, the large and tall rectangular windows of my local, public library, 5 minutes from my parent's home. I am not sipping whiskey and hot chocolate, I am not with anyone but myself, and I am about to open my Verbal reasoning notebook to start studying again for the MCAT, the medical entrance exam. It is a feeling that I can only describe as what it might feel like to have won the lottery a few years ago and then have lost it all gambling foolishly after which, you find yourself broke and alone, sitting only with memories of something that once was. Am I sad? No, I don't think so. Am I lonely? I am not sure I would say lonely, but I do reminsce from time to time about those days, a feeling of love and longing that I am sure will come again any time soon. (that was a typo but I'll leave it....something unconscious about that...)
It is times like these where people say you are meant to be alone. To forget about the past and stop living in it - move forward, but remain present. This is how we grow. To look forward is not always helpful, plan, yes, but live for the future, no. I can say this with full confidence. The past three years I was so eager for the future to come and to 'start' my life, I am now here three years later and part of me feels I wasn't present for the last three either. I haven't started anything. I have learned a lot though. Looking back isn't good either. I think of Sarah often. Too often perhaps. It is odd, I am not sure that I remember what being with her was really like, but I certainly remember how I felt. I felt happy. I felt in love.
Now, my outlook is different. Now, instead of looking back and looking forward. I am working on a day-to-day basis on being positive. On being respectful. On making others smile every chance I get and spreading good cheer, so to speak. Not just because it's the holiday season, but because if we are not positive and happy everyday, but good is life? What good is it to wait until we are? What good is it to hope that that day is 3 years from now, when in fact it isn't? It is now. I can't say that I don't wake up every morning to a what I like to call a drawn brain cloud. The type of cloud scribble that you draw with a black pen on white paper. A cartoon line cloud, tangled, convoluted, messy. Yep, it's like the Charlie Brown scribble is smack-dab and center in my mind every morning...but one day I will wake up soon and that scribble will be gone. That it when I will have forgiven myself and truly let go.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Envisioning the bird
Today, I felt a surge of happiness. A surge of waiting, holding back, and tranquility for doing so. I watched my father spiral quickly into an outrageous fit of anger and allowed him to do so for 15 minutes straight saying nothing but what a perfectly calm stranger would say: 'It was an accident'.
This evening we were watching the hockey game, Saturday night in Canada, and I felt happy to be watching with my Dad. I even was close to 'face booking' it and making it my status: 'Watching the Leafs with Dad, not such a bad Saturday night.' I don't update statuses often. It has to be pretty awesome for me to update my status. Well, in any event, I didn't post it. Probably for the best. My Dad comes prancing in after a satisfying dinner with a huge ice cream sundae for dessert. He smiles mischievously at me like I can't have any and moments later knocks over the hot tea I had sitting innocently on the floor. In the instant that he realized what he had done, that it had spilt generously over the bottom edge of the sofa and under the sofa slightly on the carpet, his mischievous smile turned into an angry and disbelieving scrooge. Can I remind the reader that he spilt tea on both a dark gray carpet and sofa?
Anyway, from here he went into an irrational and blame-placing diatribe where I was lazy, my mother should eat all the ice cream she wants now because he won't buy it anymore, and that I am ungrateful and don't care. I stood there as he frantically cleaned with dish towels refusing to let anyone near it (that is understood without being said) but constantly blaming us that we don't care and cannot understand the damage to the things he worked so hard to be able to afford.
This is a common occurrence here. This "threatening" happens so often it makes me sick. Actually, it makes me very angry. It is unfair and unkind, but my father is not logical, not rational and not sensible often. I love him, but when he has something in his head, well, that's the end of it. Nothing can change, nobody is worthy and the world is against him. One thing he does in his older age is threaten his own death - the kind of "you'll miss me when you're gone, so respect me when I am here." Sadly, I do respect him but when something is out of whack in his little world it appears to him that I don't and that moreover, I am ungrateful.
Sorry to rant, I needed to provide an accurate description of this little freakout to remind myself that I am still sane. One who cannot put words to a situation with accuracy is biased, is emotional and isn't thinking straight. This is not the person I want to be. I saw what I saw tonight as a bird views the busy city from up above. I was removed. I was looking at him calmly and thinking, was that me? Have I done that? Immediately, I thought of Sarah.
I will not digress here, because that would be another post, but our behaviour is strong enough to stop apartheids, start wars, break people and kill others. I have done that already with someone I loved. I lost her because of it. I am ready to start a trend of positivity. I am ready to change my perspective. To love and be loved. To care for and always, judge favourably. Most importantly, to be calm and be patient. Happiness takes effort and patience is the first large hurdle. Thanks for reading. Goodnight.
This evening we were watching the hockey game, Saturday night in Canada, and I felt happy to be watching with my Dad. I even was close to 'face booking' it and making it my status: 'Watching the Leafs with Dad, not such a bad Saturday night.' I don't update statuses often. It has to be pretty awesome for me to update my status. Well, in any event, I didn't post it. Probably for the best. My Dad comes prancing in after a satisfying dinner with a huge ice cream sundae for dessert. He smiles mischievously at me like I can't have any and moments later knocks over the hot tea I had sitting innocently on the floor. In the instant that he realized what he had done, that it had spilt generously over the bottom edge of the sofa and under the sofa slightly on the carpet, his mischievous smile turned into an angry and disbelieving scrooge. Can I remind the reader that he spilt tea on both a dark gray carpet and sofa?
Anyway, from here he went into an irrational and blame-placing diatribe where I was lazy, my mother should eat all the ice cream she wants now because he won't buy it anymore, and that I am ungrateful and don't care. I stood there as he frantically cleaned with dish towels refusing to let anyone near it (that is understood without being said) but constantly blaming us that we don't care and cannot understand the damage to the things he worked so hard to be able to afford.
This is a common occurrence here. This "threatening" happens so often it makes me sick. Actually, it makes me very angry. It is unfair and unkind, but my father is not logical, not rational and not sensible often. I love him, but when he has something in his head, well, that's the end of it. Nothing can change, nobody is worthy and the world is against him. One thing he does in his older age is threaten his own death - the kind of "you'll miss me when you're gone, so respect me when I am here." Sadly, I do respect him but when something is out of whack in his little world it appears to him that I don't and that moreover, I am ungrateful.
Sorry to rant, I needed to provide an accurate description of this little freakout to remind myself that I am still sane. One who cannot put words to a situation with accuracy is biased, is emotional and isn't thinking straight. This is not the person I want to be. I saw what I saw tonight as a bird views the busy city from up above. I was removed. I was looking at him calmly and thinking, was that me? Have I done that? Immediately, I thought of Sarah.
I will not digress here, because that would be another post, but our behaviour is strong enough to stop apartheids, start wars, break people and kill others. I have done that already with someone I loved. I lost her because of it. I am ready to start a trend of positivity. I am ready to change my perspective. To love and be loved. To care for and always, judge favourably. Most importantly, to be calm and be patient. Happiness takes effort and patience is the first large hurdle. Thanks for reading. Goodnight.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Brain rewiring
When I last wrote in here, I was living in Spain. Now, that time seems long ago although I really have only been home (i.e. in my parents' house) for two weeks. I feel as if I need to catch you up to speed. Essentially, I had been living abroad for almost the last three years. Mostly to learn Spanish and live in a new country, something that not many people can afford to do. When I say afford I am mostly referring to giving up personal commitments and making life changes to do it.
I moved back to Toronto, where I am from, with the idea that I was going to go to medical school in the United States, but upon returning is when I realized that I really could not financially afford it. In no way, were loans and co-signers going to help this one. It sucked. I had moved my whole life back here, to where I grew up, only to be stuck and have to start over again with no plan. Well, not entirely no plan, but a big mother fucking hole in the one that I had already carefully devised and constructed this whole past year.
It has become some really weird test for me to be back here living with my parents. Not only are most of my friends from high school married, some even have children! Here I am in the isolation and uniformity that is North American suburbia and sometimes I fear that I will forget where I have been the last 6 years. Normally, when I return here I feel a sense of isolation, sadness, and bitterness towards everything and everybody that embodies this place. I know now that in order to survive it (superarlo in Spanish), I must change the way I feel about it.
This change isn't easy. It doesn't consist of me saying 'Ok, I want to feel different' or 'I don't really hate that you shout for me when I am in the kitchen and you are sitting two metres away', but rather, mentally changing the way I am affected by the things I cannot change myself. It would appear to me as if I have been running away from doing the hard stuff. Re-writing my MCAT, facing the truth about my parents and that I must change if I want change to happen between us, not looking at my situation with disdain and sadness but looking forward with positivity and smiling. It is not 100% concrete in my mind that I am doing this. However, it has taken a while to look at myself and see that I am not that strong…that my strength came from being content with 'other things' - people, good grades, travel, sports - not with myself, my outlook, my positivity, my perseverance, my ability to make any situation favourable.
At times I still have this mental blockage. I've had it a while now. I wake up with it sometimes. I wake up with it more frequently when I live with my parents. Although, it is now I can admit, it is all me. It is my personal struggle with myself and what the fuck are we struggling about!!! I want to dissolve this blockage like draino unplugs backed-up pipes. I want to want to be close to others….to dissolve this figurative ice block that surrounds me and has frozen my sexual chakra for sometime. I am not warm. I am cold, but I like to think that even in this fierce winter weather I will get hotter.
Happiness takes effort, the name of the new direction of this blog. I want to discuss the inner workings of this girl's mind (me) and record overtime how with our immense physical and mental effort, we can change our perspective and in turn, change our reality. At the moment this starts with my relationship with my parents. I hope this will continue to grow like a fast growing tree, roots alive, spreading quickly through the moist, earthy soil.
One of the most special people in my life once said to me: 'Tus pensamientos crean tu vida' - 'Your thoughts create your life'. I think of that everyday.
I moved back to Toronto, where I am from, with the idea that I was going to go to medical school in the United States, but upon returning is when I realized that I really could not financially afford it. In no way, were loans and co-signers going to help this one. It sucked. I had moved my whole life back here, to where I grew up, only to be stuck and have to start over again with no plan. Well, not entirely no plan, but a big mother fucking hole in the one that I had already carefully devised and constructed this whole past year.
It has become some really weird test for me to be back here living with my parents. Not only are most of my friends from high school married, some even have children! Here I am in the isolation and uniformity that is North American suburbia and sometimes I fear that I will forget where I have been the last 6 years. Normally, when I return here I feel a sense of isolation, sadness, and bitterness towards everything and everybody that embodies this place. I know now that in order to survive it (superarlo in Spanish), I must change the way I feel about it.
This change isn't easy. It doesn't consist of me saying 'Ok, I want to feel different' or 'I don't really hate that you shout for me when I am in the kitchen and you are sitting two metres away', but rather, mentally changing the way I am affected by the things I cannot change myself. It would appear to me as if I have been running away from doing the hard stuff. Re-writing my MCAT, facing the truth about my parents and that I must change if I want change to happen between us, not looking at my situation with disdain and sadness but looking forward with positivity and smiling. It is not 100% concrete in my mind that I am doing this. However, it has taken a while to look at myself and see that I am not that strong…that my strength came from being content with 'other things' - people, good grades, travel, sports - not with myself, my outlook, my positivity, my perseverance, my ability to make any situation favourable.
At times I still have this mental blockage. I've had it a while now. I wake up with it sometimes. I wake up with it more frequently when I live with my parents. Although, it is now I can admit, it is all me. It is my personal struggle with myself and what the fuck are we struggling about!!! I want to dissolve this blockage like draino unplugs backed-up pipes. I want to want to be close to others….to dissolve this figurative ice block that surrounds me and has frozen my sexual chakra for sometime. I am not warm. I am cold, but I like to think that even in this fierce winter weather I will get hotter.
Happiness takes effort, the name of the new direction of this blog. I want to discuss the inner workings of this girl's mind (me) and record overtime how with our immense physical and mental effort, we can change our perspective and in turn, change our reality. At the moment this starts with my relationship with my parents. I hope this will continue to grow like a fast growing tree, roots alive, spreading quickly through the moist, earthy soil.
One of the most special people in my life once said to me: 'Tus pensamientos crean tu vida' - 'Your thoughts create your life'. I think of that everyday.
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