Where to start?

I haven't written in quite a while.  I lost my spark, my drive; possibly even myself for a little while.  And life got busy.

In the words of my favorite 2 year old.  "Ya.  That happens."

I'm not going to update you on everything that has happened over the last while; I am sure it will come out in posts as it is ready to.

What am I dealing with lately?

"Moral injury is perpetrating, failing to prevent, bearing witness to, or learning about acts that transgress deeply held moral beliefs."

Ya.  That happens.  Unfortunately.

My heart hurts.

New job (from beginning of this year) came with a challenging co-worker.  Challenging co-worker got terminated a little bit ago.  Challenging co-worker, among other things, was inappropriately touching and otherwise verbally harassing our younger male contractors.  Seems he had a history of doing that.  At least once, to a minor.

My heart hurts.

One of the young men asked me, during a conversation, if I had not noticed certain things about the way they acted around him, precautions they now took.  I hadn't.

So in addition to Momma Bear being very angry, Momma Bear was also beating herself up for not noticing; not protecting them, not stopping it.

I have *mostly* worked through it, but various other things keep coming to light that are in the ~ How could someone I know, and used to trust, do something like that?  Only strangers do bad things like that. ~ family of thoughts.

He is gone; he is no longer my problem, or a threat to *my* staff/co-workers.  But did he learn his lesson?  Is he going to continue his behaviour somewhere new?  I know its not my problem, but ... my heart hurts.

It's healing; I am trying not to carry other people's baggage.  I have a really great circle of friends around me, (most of whom believe in tough love, which is what I need) and a really great team at work that are all working together to help as they can.  It was really heartwarming who made offers of help after dude was canned.

It was also completely hilarious the way all the men-folk who work under my supervision treated me, for the first couple of days, like a fragile little thing that was going to burst into tears if they said the wrong thing.  Sexist, but funny, and nice.  Thank God they went back to normal after a few days.

Luck

My last post was a bit sucky, negative, and glass half empty.  I thought about deleting it, but as my dear friend Thormoo has observed, it does represent what I was feeling at the time, so I am leaving it alone.


Better mood today.


I was thinking this morning about a lot of things.  Specifically, for some reason, Sebastian's potential 5th business trip to the sand, and his CO's comment that "your luck has to run out sometime".


It does, and it doesn't, really.  I mean yes, eventually we all die, but I wouldn't necessarily call that one's luck running out. 


 Statistically, I don't believe anyone is more likely to come to harm on their 5th deployment to a certain region than on their first.  I don't care to research the statistics, but I would think if anything your training, instincts, experience and  maturity, all of which contribute to "luck", would have increased.


Even if he doesn't go back to the sand, there will always be another place that needs the help of brave men and women like S.  Afghanistan was not his first deployment, and it will likely not be the last.  There are other places all over the world where people are in danger.  Even on Canadian soil, any of us could fall to tragedy without warning.  


I know I am not going to have this mind set every day; part of writing this down is so I can come back and remind myself.  Something to re-read when I am having a not so rational day.

A ship in harbour ...

A ship in harbour is safe, but that's not what ships are built for.

John A Shedd, 1928

As I mentioned before Sebastian has a few unresolved issues from his last tour, and we hope one of them will be resolved in the next month or so.  He was talking to his CO about it the other day, and if the outcome is the one we are hoping for, S asked to be re-deployed to the sand, to finish some business he considers unfinished.

If it happened, it would be his 5th deployment to the sand.  Which is one thing.  But then he added himself "My CO thinks I'm crazy - he knows my luck has to run out sometime."

I *know* this is his job.  I know this is part of what makes him who he is.  And I know that if it wasn't that particular sandbox, it would be somewhere else.  But damnit, he hasn't even been home for a year yet.  And I know that the changes to Canada's role in Afghanistan, and the PR that is being released through our government, is meant to reassure the general public that our soldiers who are still there are in a lot less danger.

I am not the gerenal public.  I am not that easily soothed.

I also *know* he talked like this before he went last time ... and came back unharmed.  I *know* soldiers do this.

But it still sucks.  Big, at the moment.  And I *know* that is part of this life, too. 

Just like I *know* I shouldn't borrow trouble by worrying about something that hasn't happened yet, and may never happen.  And if it's going to happen, it will take a while to make it happen.

~sigh~

I *know* so much, you think I'd be able to deal, eh?

I'll be OK.  I just needed to vent.  And snuggle my bear ...

The story so far ...

Before I go on too many ranty posts, I suppose I should fill you all in on what actually happened over the last month or so.

You might remember this post, from January 13th, 2011, when my gut told me the Wolf was the "anonymous someone" trying to find my new home address.  I did end up talking to S about it the next time I was with him, he strongly encouraged me to go to the Wolf's Chain of Command (CoC); which I did not do ...

Since then, there had been a few more random forwarded e-mails; some bulk forwards, some forwarded to me only.


On May 17th, a good friend from "home", who had gone to high school with the Wolf and I, let me know the Wolf had contacted her looking for my address.  He claimed that he had discovered some new gluten-free food that he thought I would be interested in.  She declined to give him my contact info, and offered to pass info along to me; although, as she succinctly summed up, she assumed this new product was called "Bullshit".

I was rattled by this news ... and was still rattled 1/2 hour later when Sebastian contacted me to see how my day was going.

S: {angry} OK, that's it, give me {The Wolf's} last name and squadron info

{I did}

S: {Pause ...}  {much softer} You didn't argue with me ... it's gonna be OK, sweetie ... I'll call you right back.

He called back a little while later with the Wolf's CoC contact info, and asked if I would do it, or if I wanted him to.  I replied that I knew I wasn't making good decisions with regards to the Wolf, and told S to tell me what to do ... which I think really rattled him.  He looked after contacting the Wolf's CoC for me, and they relayed again to the Wolf that I wanted no contact from him, directly or indirectly.

Unfortunately, I know that statistically when a male individual who is involved in harassing-stalking behaviour is confronted by a male authority figure, more often than not the harassing behaviours escalates into actual violent acts.  So, I have been a little edgy lately.   The local regional police force is aware of the history between the Wolf and I, and have an open, ongoing file.  They were waiting for more info from me; none of us thought there was an immediate threat or sense of urgency, and I was in my crazy season for work.

Two weeks ago, there was an incident at the Legion where I used to bar tend, with a military individual matching the Wolf's description entered the bar, gave his rank and trade as the same as the Wolf, but a different name, acted very oddly, and after he left a package of "date rape" drugs were found in the men's washroom.  The next day an individual consistent with the same description was seen hanging out in a black SUV outside my office door (I was away on course, thank goodness!).

I obviously immediately notified the police, and the MP's.  After a very stressful few days ( during which I was placed in "protective custody" at Sebastian's place ~ quite enjoyable! ) it was resolved that the individual in the SUV was not the same individual from the bar, neither one was the Wolf, the Wolf was safely at the base where he belongs, and the Military Member who was at the bar claims not to have a connection to the Wolf. 

The police are suspicious, and are still entertaining the possibility that he was sent to "deliver a message" to me.  The police and the MP's have both contacted the Wolf's CoC, and had them re-enforce to him that if there is any further contact, direct or indirect, that criminal charges will be laid, including things from the past that "meet the threshold for assault under the criminal code". (Yes, I now can talk like a cop)

I am home again, albeit with a new "safety plan" in place, and a much greater awareness of some things. I truly, truly hope this is the end of this. 

As I said earlier, it has been a growth experience, and more thoughts from this will continue to drip out of my head in the days to come.

Dreams ...

I had a dream last night.


I was in a rather rural and shabby looking hospital, it looked like it had been converted from an elementary school. I have no idea why I was there, but I was in the hall, and I noticed someone stealing an infant - it was winter, and cold, and snowing, and this dark haired person just walked right out of the hospital with a naked infant in their arms, and no one stopped them. I tried to report it to the authorities, but no one would believe me. Until the next morning, when people noticed that a baby was gone.  Then the people I tried to report it to got mad at me, and tried to shut me up.

I woke up this morning and kinda laughed it off as just a weird dream, told Sebastian about it ... and then realized something that I had been trying to bury for the last few days.  I obviously didn't bury it very well.

Last year's post: I Will Always Love You

(And for anyone who wants the longer version, check out She Part 1 and She Part 2 ... which reminds me I never wrote Part 3 ...)

It is the third anniversary of two wonderful little boys coming into my life; two wonderful little boys that I would only get to know for a short time before they moved on again.

It is getting easier to think of them, to remember them, but the hurt is still there, and very deep.

Boys, wherever you are, I hope life has been gentle with you, and you are blossoming into the wonderful people that I know you can be.  You are 6 and 7 now; I wish I could see you and know you, sing you to sleep again.  I still miss you, and I will always love you ...

When the boys first came to us, I knew a couple of Russian lullabies, and obviously some in English, but "Stairway to Heaven" was the one guaranteed way to get the little one, my little monkey man, to fall asleep in my arms.

Rights ...

Disclaimer:  I really try to keep my comments on other people's blogs, and on chat boards, polite, non-confrontational, and moderate.  But that means I get to come here and say what I really think.

I respect all my readers, and I hope you know I appreciate all your comments.  As long as you keep them respectful, towards me and other readers, please disagree to your heart's content.  Write me a novel telling me why I am wrong.  I enjoy honest, respectful debate.

I read a blog of a person I feel close to in attitude, and sometimes in circumstance, although I have never met her in person.  She is in an unhappy marriage, but is staying in it, for her own reasons.  He husband is aware of her unhappiness.  I will not go into more detail, as it is her story, not mine.

The subject of sex between them came up.  She is not interested in having sex with this man.  On her personal blog, while debating it, she said: "He does, afterall, have a right to sex (with his wife)"

I gotta admit, that pushed a button for me.  I keep my personal baggage pretty well packed, but a snap on the suitcase popped when I read that line.

My comment I left was "No one has the "right to" have sex with you if you don't want to. No one. I don't give a rat's ass what the paperwork says. Nobody. Ever."

Some of the other readers disagree with me.  I am not going ot get into a pissing contest with anyone on her blog, because that's not how I roll.  But I need to get out the aftermath that has been in my head.

Near the end of our relationship, the last night we actually spent in each others company, to be precise, the Wolf was trying to "convince" me to do something I didn't want to.  He got a bit physical/forceful, and said to me "Just because (of something from my past), that doesn't give you the right to say no to me when I want to do something to your body". 

That line has haunted me since he said it.

Inintially, I was haunted because of what he said.  I had no come back at the time, I just froze, as did he.  I don't think he could even believe himself that he had crossed that line.  He pushed me away, and rolled over.  I doubt either of us slept much.

In the days that followed, it occurred to me that he was right.  A moment from my past does not give me the right to say no to him.

The fact that I am a human being with feelings, deserving of respect, and with control over my own body and mind, gives me the right to say no.

The fact that he and I were engaged; the fact that this other woman is married, is irrelevant.  No body has the right to make you do something, have sex, perform a certain way, if you don't want to.  You do not "owe it to" anyone, regardless of their relationship to you.

For me, and thinking about the incident with the Wolf again, I am sad that this man I loved, who I still believe somewhere in his soul loved me back, had gotten to so dark a place that he would say something like that.  He was the one that was supposed to protect me from the dark memories, not use them against me.  That he was capable of saying that to me ... haunts me still.  That he may believe it, not so much about me, but about himself ... also haunts me.

So that's where my head has been at the last couple of days ... good thing I usually have an office to myself, because some of my musical choices as of late have been interesting!

(End note: this is the first time this particular incident with the Wolf has seen the light of day since it happened.  I told one other individual about it, months later, and it was very briefly discussed.  Maybe, like other scabs, exposing it to light and air will help.)

Expectations ...

There was a man, friend of a friend, we'll call hiim George.  George was starting to go bald, so one Thursday night he shaved his head.

At the end of the day Friday, his boss came up to him and said "Come to my office first thing Monday morning, I need to talk to you" and walked away.

George worried all weekend.  Was he in trouble for shaving his head?  Did it present the wrong image?  Was his job at risk?  What was he going to do, what was he going to say, how would he handle this?  George's kids wanted to go to the park, but George couldn't enjoy his time with them, because he was thinking about his boss.  After the kids were in bed, Mrs George wanted to have some quality time with her husband, but George's heart wasn't in it.  Poor George had himself worked into a frenzy by Monday morning.  Sleep deprived and frightened, he went into his boss' office.

"Please shut the door", said the boss, looking mildly uncomfortable as well.

Geroge shut the door, a fine bead of sweat breaking out on his brow.

"Thanks for coming to see me George" said the boss. "I noticed you shaved your head.  And, well ... I'm starting to go bald, and I wondered if that was why you did it?  I have been thinking about shaving my head, and I wondered if you are glad you did it, happy with your decision?"

George was stunned.  He had spent all weekend worrying, instead of enjoying himself ... for no reason.

~~~~~~~~~

I realy this story for two reasons.

One, be careful how you say things, because people can easily see an innocent comment through the filter of their own experience.  Be aware of people's reactions to the things you say.

Two, and much more importantly: we often waste so much of our time, energy, and happiness, wondering what something "really means", and what "might happen", that we miss out on the important things in life.

On a small scale, I had texted Sebastian a few times yesterday, and never got a response.  Of course, being me, I had convinced myself I had done something to upset him.  Until today, when I got a text from him asking what I thought of some pics he had sent me ... he never received any of my texts.

On a large scale, with recent developments in Libya ... it will be very easy for us to "borrow trouble", and let our imaginations run. 

So this is our new catch phrase - remind yourself, when you are having a "shaved head" moment, that the reality is likely going to be much less stressful than whatever your imagination is cooking up.  Take a deep breath, and carry on.

Men in Uniform ...

Two volunteer fire fighters lost their lives in battle today in a community near where I grew up.

I am the daughter of a man that started as a prison guard and became a police officer; he also served as a volunteer fire fighter.  I am the ex of an Airman, the current of a Combat Soldier, and the friend to many in all uniforms.

My heart goes out to the families of these fallen, but also to all the wives and other loved ones who are comforted, yet still feeling guilty that they get to hold their fire fighter in their arms tonight, safe and sound. My heart goes out to those same people, who will wait with the heart a little higher in their throats the next few times the call goes out, until their loved one comes once more safe through the door.

Blessed be

The O Magazine Meme ...

My health coach and I are at the stage of my program where we start long term planning and goal setting, life planning, etc (eg: she is getting ready to kick me out of the nest).  So I am thinking about life. 

In addition, she has gently encouraged me to spend more time in the creative process, whether that is writing, jewellery making, sewing, whatever.

Conveniently, I opened the current issue of O Magazine, and found this great article:
http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Martha-Becks-20-Questions-That-Could-Change-Your-Life_1 

So, randomly, over the next little while, when I have no other topic burning a hole in my head, I will be answering the questions posed in the article.  Go have a look, and think about your own answers.  Anyone who wishes is welcome to play along, either on your own blogs or in the comments section here.

On writing, and blogging ...

From the introduction to the 10th Anniversary edition of Kitchen Table Wisdom:

"I quickly discovered I am an author and not a writer.  Writers are people who are born to write.  An author, on the other hand, seems to be born to do something else and then writes a book about it.  This is a very different thing entirely."

and this, from Pioneer Woman's blog:

2. Blog often.

Whether you write a sixteen-paragraph essay about the cosmic implications of a free market system or a one-paragraph description of what happens to your soul when you walk into your godforsaken laundry room, consider your blog a precious bloom that requires daily nurturing.


And watering.


If you water a plant once every two weeks, it will shrivel.


Unless that plant is a cactus, and then it would thrive.


And to tell you the truth, I really can’t figure out how a cactus fits into this analogy, so forget I brought it up.

I have a number of bloggy-friends, and they all blog for their own reasons.  My reasons have changed with time, and still vary from day to day, but the fact is I actually enjoy writing, enjoy communicating, and enjoy getting feedback on that.  Sometimes I blog to get thoughts out of my head, sometimes I blog to reach out, sometimes I blog to say something I can't, out of politeness, say to the person who has spawned the thought.

I am not sure, using the difinition in the first quote, if I am a writer or an author.  I think that also varies based on the day. 

Mid life crisis?

It seems like many of my friends my age, myself included, are going through some sort of "mid life crisis", or at least mid life dissatisfaction. (if the 35 - 45 age counts as mid life?)


Except we are not buying fast cars, getting fake tans, and having extra-marital affairs. We are going back to school and changing careers. Some of us part time, some of us are throwing in the towel completely and quitting our jobs and returning full time.

I have been spending a lot of time lately thinking about my job, my career, and the things that I like and don't like about my current job, and the things I like and don't like about some of the volunteer opportunies I participate in, and gerenalls how to be happy and fullfilled, and get enthusiastic about my life again.


I was wondering if it was time for a change, time to look at other opportunities. I actually had a blog post written outlining my thoughts and feelings, and some options. Then the powers that be threw this lilttle wrinkle into things:

The powers that be in the government might be phasing out our program. They are at very least looking at us for some cost savings. Which is to say right now they are not declaring anyone's position surplus (government talk for laying you off), but they are not replacing anyone who retires, or otherwise leaves their position.

So basically, if I choose to move on to a new opportunity, I am signing the death warrant for the programs and volunteers I facilitate in this community.

I am still looking at some schooling, part time, but no big career change any time soon.  Of course, there are other things that will affect these decisions; I need to also place myself in a position to be marketable in a different georgraphic location, potentially.  But right now it is more like a poker game, playing the cards carefully, seeing what cards the other players have.

Creeped ...

I think the Wolf is trying to find me.

I have moved since we were last in contact, although my phone (mobile only) and personal e-mail have remained the same.

Let me back up a bit.

I have not really heard from the Wolf since a couple of random MSN conversations in July, while he was still in the Sandbox.  After he came back to Canada, he left a couple of snarky, likely drunken comments on my Facebook page; I blocked his access and ability to post (but did not delete him then).  I briefly un-blocked him on MSN around October, but realized quickly I didn't want to hear anything he had to say, so deleted him from MSN and Facebook.  A few weeks later he contacted me about the un-friending, I explained my reasons, and I thought that was that.

Yesterday I got a forwarded e-mail joke from him, and today another one.  I thought it was maybe just a brain fart on his part, he clicked my name along with a bunch of others.

Tonight after work I stopped in the post office of the small town I live in, and the manager said to me someone had called looking for me the other day, but the guy's story didn't ring quite true; he claimed to be a business associate but had my old home address, for example.  I admit the Wolf didn't spring to mind until the postie said "Oh ya, and he said he was calling he was from ______, which I thought was really weird ... and from the fact you just went white, I guess me not giving him information was the right thing to do?"  I assured him it was, and left.

I have also left a note at the place where I bar tend to remind everyone there to NOT give out any of my personal information if anyone comes looking for me.  I understand small town friendly helpful; its just in this case it might not be so helpful.

The logical part of my brain keeps telling me I am over reacting.  I really hope that part of my brain is right.  But my gut is in knots, and keeps remembering something the Wolf said to me our last night in each other's presence, which was a bad night on so many levels.  He said that I did not have the right to tell him what he could or could not do to me ... except he said it much meaner than that.

And the fact that he always told me, meaning it as an inside joke (I think) that if he ever felt the need to kill me, he would't scare me first, that I would never see the gun, or see the bullet coming.

I am going to talk to a fellow I know who is a local police officer tomorrow, to tell him everything, and ask his advice, off the record.  I want the local police to know that if I have to call them to take it seriously, and what they are dealing with - a former recce platoon sniper with many years of experience, and an avid big game hunter - but I do not want to escalate the situation.

(aside: for anyone interested in the psychology of stalkers and their kin, I highly recommend Gavin de Becker's book "The Gift Of Fear")

I have not talked to Sebastian about this, and I am leaning right now towards not telling him until I am in his presence in a couple of weeks; I don't think he really needs to be worrying about this right now while he is trying to re-adjust.  As much as my first reaction was to call him and ask him to tell me I was over-reacting, ask him to help me settle down, I also don't want to gear him up for something that might be nothing, and something he really can't do much about anyway.

I am going to try to give it a few days, see if there are any other contact attempts ... and let my brain process it a bit more.

I really hope I just have an over active imagination.

Two sides of me

I like, and have always identified with, the idea of the "omega" wolf as presented in Patricia Brigg's mythos. In short the Omega wolf, while often seen as a submissive, will fight when their back is against the wall, fight to defend the ones they care about (although often take abuse themselves) and most significantly, exert a calming influence on those around them. Their seemingly submissive nature often draws abuse from those who seek to secure their own position by dominating others, but also draws out the protective influence of the truly powerful.

When I was with Sebastian on this last visit, he challenged me to think about why it is that I need to please people in my personal life, to smooth things over and to avoid conflict. 


In my professional life I am stong, assertive, confident, and not afraid at all to make waves.


When I was teaching martial arts, or in the ring, I am also confident, strong, outgoing, and assertive.  I once had a senior black belt look at me with awe after a fight and remark that "when you get backed into a corner, you are a whole different fighter ... you are downright scary".  He meant it as a compliment.


Why then, in my personal life, in anything associated with "home", do I turn into this weak, nervous, maleable peacemaker?


S challenged me that there must be one defining incident in my past that led to this, and that if I can find the incident, then I can start to deal with it.  I am not sure I agree with that; I think, for me, it was a systematic training, re-inforced by some specific incidents, some more painful than others.

(Note: S was not criticizing this trait of mine, he was just challenging me to think about it, as I do sometimes let myself get pushed into doing things I really don't want to do, or letting things happen that bother me)


Giving small credit to astrological influences (I have a Virgo ascendant - the peacemaker) I was conditioned early on to keep the peace.  My mother is volatile.  In discussions with my therapist, his opinion is that due to circumstances in her own life, my mom was never actually able to "mother" me, and instead needed me to "mother" her, a role that I was ill suited for as a child, but grew into as a young adult.  (And was, at times, challenged by the fact that my moon sign is Taurus, the bull ...)

So with my mother I learned not to challenge her when she wanted me to do something, or act in a way that my gut told me was wrong, because I knew if I resisted, or spoke up, she would make my life miserable.  I learned to anticipate, and to look after things before they needed to be mentioned, to pro-actively make sure everything rolled along smoothly.

Post 1995ish, interactions with the Wolf were the same; and if I am honest I have chosen to be with a number of other men who were also the same.  If I anticipate things, and deal with them or smooth them over before they become triggers, my life will be less painful.

There were a couple of incidents with the Wolf towards the end that, in retrospect, made this painfully clear; things I put up with at the time, but am ashamed to admit to, even now, even here.  Maybe some day I will be able to share them, but at this point they are still too painful, too embarassing.

I have started claiming my own voice and my own feelings again lately, in small ways, with people I feel safe with (once with S on this last visit, a few times with TW, and others) and it not only feels good, I have gotten positive re-inforcement from the situations when I do it.  The people I am now surrounding myself with do not lash out if I stand up for myself; they realize that different does not mean bad.

MRI

I am on my way to the hospital for an MRI.  I was screened a number of years ago (8?) for MS and cleared, but in the last year and a half or so I have had a flare up of new symptoms all of which point to some neurological issue.  My doc hoped it would be something simple like a Vitamin D or B12 deficiency ... but all my blood work came back fine.

I don't know whether to hope they find something today, so I know what is going on, or to hope they don't find anything.  Anything unusual, that is.

I don't even know what to ask for prayers for - I guess, once again, just the strength to deal with whatever comes of this, and peace while I wait for my results.

Soon I will have some distractions, at least ;-)

Edit added 16:10:  MRI itself went well.  I got in almost an hour late, but once in it went very smoothly.  You are in the big noisy machine for about 20 minutes (I am told).  I regulated my breathing, imagined Sebastian on the plane on his way home, sleeping, imagined sitting in the seat next to him, telling him I was nervous, holding his hand, and ... fell asleep, for real.  Came to as they were pulling me out of the tube, to the tech saying she wished all her patients were as good and as still as I was.  Then she took a good look at my bleary eyes and said "you fell asleep, didn't you ?!?!?" and laughed.

Insecurities

Sebastian's return is approaching fast, and this last week he had been a bit stand offish, which was making me insecure.  Since he has repeatedly reminded me he is not the Wolf, I have no other "end of tour" experience to compare with, and I am not sure what "normal" is.  I know he has mixed feelings about returning home, thinking there is so much left to do there, that he is leaving jobs un-done.  If he were given the option I know he would choose to stay, but that is not an option.  I am not sure if that was what was leading him to be a little abrupt, and not choose his words very carefully, or if there was something else going on.

Of course, MSN and Skype are still not working between us (he thinks there is something wrong with his computer) so communication has been frustrating.

I had some posts half written about how I was feeling, the daemons in my brain, questioning what had changed between us ... but he is now somewhere he can relax and cut loose, and all seems to be well again.  I have been getting many, many messages a day from him ... some of them increasingly silly, as I assume there has been some "lubrication" applied to his brain.  He did mention he woke up this morning with a horrible head ache ...

The point of this rambling is that once again I have learned that while I stew away about something, let it eat at me, and decide the world is ending ... he meant absolutely nothing by whatever it was he said, and I have over thought and over analyzed.  I am learning, for this time I didn't ask him what was going on, react outwardly to him, or try to compensate, to "fix" it.  I waited, and it turned out to be nothing, or at least nothing I had caused, or needed to worry about.

The next lesson I need to learn is to wait more patiently, without the mental torture I put myself through.

Not as tough as I pretend to be.

HTLA is over, and my boy is heading back to the sand. (Edit add: when I say my boy, I mean Sebastian, the man I am dating, not my son.  I am sorry for any confusion this caused.)

I am trying to focus on the fact that this round will soon be really over, and he will be home for a while.  I am trying to be positive, and happy, and look forward to the next reunion, but the fact is he is going back there, and it breaks my heart.

All the videos and commercials for Veteran's Week are hittng hard; I am spending a lot of time with kleenex in hand this week.  I will be laying a wreath for the Rememberance Day Service on Thursday, I am hoping I can do it without completely falling apart.

I will probably get one more video call with Sebastian before he leaves Canadian soil.  I hope that I can hold it together until he signs off, the same as I did when he went at the beginning of all this.  Then have my tears in private, with him none the wiser.  Oh, I know he likely suspects, but if he doesn't have to face the reality of it, it is easier on us both.

Before he went away at the beginning of this deployment, we had a good talk about tears, and fears, and emotions.  I explained to him why his sister and I cry when we say goodbye, and challenged him on his own feelings about those tears.  He was suprised by what I said, and he did spend some time thinking about it.

Soon, soon, soon, this will all be a memory, and I will have him back under the same stars.  Soon.

Further thoughts on the end of a friendship

I am still sad about the way the friendship with Big Dog seems to have ended.  TW and I have had soem good chats about why I feel the way I do.  (TW realized the "down side" much earlier than I did, and has been able to emotionally keep her distance, and her perspective, much better)

Thoughts, in no particular order:

Because my mother needed me to mother her, instead of being able to be one to me, I have been "trained" to mother, so the self destructive qualities in Big Dog were soemthing that brought out that mothering instinct, the need to care for and help, and that filled a need in me that is part of who I am, but is not necessarily, in this case, expressed in a healthy way.

I am sad that a good man is destroying himself, and the potential that exists in him.  It hurts because I love him; but I love myself enough to not force myself to be part of it, to have a front row seat, and to enable it.

If I am honest with myself, I was enabling him, as do many of his friends ~ we take his keys, we make excuses, we put up with his abusive behaviour.  I am not part of this any more.

I am not sad that I couldn't "fix him", which is actually a pretty big step for me.  I tend to feel that things are my responsibility to fix (you know, little things like world peace, climate change, and alchoholism ...).  The fact that I am not angry with myself for "failing" to fix him, or feeling guilty, is actually a positive.

TW tried to throw that "everyone comes into our lives for a reason" BS at me (sorry TW if you are reading this) but I really don't believe that.  Yes, I may have learned things from this friendship, but I believe sometimes people just cross our paths because they are there.  We can choose to learn from the enounters we have, but I don't believe that every individual is "sent to us" by the universe or the powers that be for a reason.

Today's ramblings.

Take care of each other, kittens.  Its a tough world out there.

Stress relief

In addition to the brain puke I had here a few minutes ago, I just found out that one of my favorite bosses has been diagnosed with cancer.  It was not caught early, and has spread to other parts of his system.

Fucking cancer.  I hate it.

Time for some stress relief, and happier thoughts.  Things to do:

Go break some clay.  (Yes, this is actually a photo of me, ripped off from inspired by a photo Brigid had up over at Home on the Range )

Go drive real fast, to the lovely rhythm of an American V-twin engine

Climb a tree.  (Although a Giant Sequoia might be a bit ambitious.)

Hug a puppy.

Stop and smell the roses ...

Nightmares ...

We are in the single digits until the Wolf is back in the country. 

I had my first nightmare last night where someone was hunting me with a sniper rifle.  I was trying to find a place to hide, worrying about my dog, and regretting the fact that "lots of windows" is a personal requirement for any place I live.

Do I really think the Wolf is going to come after me with a gun?  No ... not really ... I don't believe that.

Do I think things could get ugly?  Yep.  To the point where I have talked to a neighbour who is a cop and told him if he hears anything at my house, to assume the worst and act accordingly.

The Wolf has been continuing to reach out to me in little ways, MSN conversations, FaceBook comments, etc.  I also know he is back in Anger Management, but I don't recall if that is a standard part of the whole decompression process or not. 

WIth me, he is acting like nothing bad ever happened, that things are fine, that we can go on to being the good friends we once were ... he seems to have forgotten both the intimate times, and the pain.  He is certainly taking no ownership of anything that happened.

He knows me well enough to know that playing on my sympathy, trying to make me feel guilty, that he was "suffering" before, and I "need to" talk to him, to help him through this, has a chance of working. I need to stay strong, to remember that I have rights too, to remember that he does need to take ownership of what he has done.



I know I need to listen to my heart and my gut; I have (mostly) dealt with my pain and moved forward.  I have found closure, and I do not owe him anything.  I should not let him have any power over me, even the power to make e feel scared, to be jumping at noises, starting when I see tall people with brush cuts ...

~~~~~~~~~

Aside: when I flew home from California last week, I saw a man getting off another flight in the Denver airport, a soldier in desert camo, tall and broad shouldered ... I hoped he was coming home to someone who loved him ... and I had a little cry.

Yes, my body is defective, and many of the things I choose to do carry the risk of getting hurt; I choose not to hide away, and to live anyway.



Yes, my heart is open, some say too open, and there are many people in the world who might hurt me; I choose not to hide away, but to love anyway.
 
I will live the way I need to, and be true to myself, with no regrets at the end of the road.  I would prefer to be hurt than to always wonder what if, or think if only.
 
I will not live my life in fear, but will celebrate the opportunities presented, hang on, and enjoy the ride.