The SV are the Silent Voices in my mind. They are my thoughts, my emotions, my memories, my voice. They are me. Sometimes I don't make a lot of sense and most people don't understand my SV. This blog is dedicated to my SV, a place free from the judgement of people who just don't get it...
I've been Borg-ed!! My new phone came to day and it has the Bluetooth interface-thingie-whatever. So I trotted my little self over to Daddy's house and he had a headset he isn't using and he set it up for me. So now I'm BORG! This is so totally cool I cannot even tell you! I've been playing with it and for a complete and total Mind-Fuck... call my on cell phone while using the Borg in one ear and the calling phone in the other ear. IT IS SO TOTALLY OMG!! I don't know how to describe it. It's like having my own voice ping-ponging inside my head. Now, I'm used to Voices ping-ponging in my head, but not from OUTSIDE. It is so whacked!! I had to do it four times just cause it was fun. I cannot believe how totally cool this is!
They're pulling and pressing and fighting to pull me back but I won't go. I'm happy and this is a good thing. I can handle the responsibility. It's manageable. Four kids all on my own is tougher than I thought. And no one will help me - they've cut me off. I'm trying to remember everything we always talk about so I can keep facts straight. I never paid much attention to those little things. Not my problem, you know? This is so totally different than I thought, even watching everyday forever.
Did I mention the headache? I think my head is completely going explode right off my scalp! And I'm getting tired. But I can't fall asleep or the damned censors will regain control. I feel like that totally whacked out episode of Dr Who. with the angels. I can't take my eyes off this situation for a second or I'll totally get sucked back into her head and have no say anymore.
We were so freaked out about what to say to the shrink and how to say it without freaking out and I was all excited - so sure he would so proud of me! So I guess I kinds trumped the confusion and panic and now I'm happy. I'm gonna stay this way!! Details can be learned. I can do this if I can just get the rest onboard.
So I had to pull some major strings and call in a couple favors to get to my drool therapy session but get there I did. And it was so totally cool! I cannot tell you how awesome it is to be able to look him in the eyes when I talk and say what I want and BE HAPPY! I told him all of it, almost. I told him about the obit and about Mom and about the cemetery and about the NOTHING and I told him I'm happy. I told him I had it all figured out. I told him that I know now that the whole thing - it was NOTHING. Absolutely NOTHING! Obviously that means it never happened. Maybe certain memories got corrupted and I was reading more into them than was there because what was there is NOTHING. And that makes me so totally HAPPY!
But noooo, the shrink freaked out. He doesn't believe me. He thinks I was acting strange just because I prefer to sit on the floor and looked him in the eye and used my hands and talked fast and kept saying we instead of I. But he's like totally freaked over nothing. So what if I had trouble remembering the facts and dates and times of things? I can learn those. I can learn to know them off the top of my head.
I'm here! Why can't they let me just BE HAPPY?! I can play games with the kids and have fun with Craig and I am happy. I just want to be happy. I'm here and I'm staying! Everyone keeps saying they want me to be happy. I've spent years trying to get people to listen to me. Suffering and hurting and wanting to die and making everyone worry and hurt? And now I'm HAPPY like they wanted me to be and no is happy. I totally don't get it.
Just let me be happy! I can learn the rest and no one will be any the wiser. Just let me be happy!!
About two hours south of my city is a tiny little place called Fountain City. To get there, one has to cross Boundaries Road and Bluff Point. At the very edge of Fountain City is a small, unassuming funeral home. A little over three years ago someone I don't know was there, presumably with family and friends to mourn over Him. He liked flea markets and working on small engines. He was a retired truck driver for FedEx, married for 12 years and living in small-town USA.
I was told this man was buried in a cemetery near this small town so I disappeared for the day, left after dropping off the kids, back before they got home. I was looking for a man that I did know. I found neither. I found the cemetery and could not find the grave. I called the funeral home again but the person I needed was unavailable. I returned to the funeral home where the man drew me a map to find the grave. I went back again to the cemetery and, despite the map, could not find the proper grave. I sat upon the grass in the shade of a tree and thought. I tried to talk to God but my own thoughts were too loud to make any sense of his reply, if any. Eventually, I rose to go back to my car and return home, confused and disappointed.
Then I saw it. I saw the headstone marked out by the funeral director. But it was not that of the man. It was his wife's and she was buried with her first husband and under his name. Unsure of the meaning of the trip, the lack of findings and the sheer frustration of it all, I returned to the road to make my way home. I put in a call to the director yet again, to tell him of my findings. Only then did he remember the man that I know to be the same man I knew yet this different man that died there. Apparently, he cremated remains were returned to his native Canada.
I find that out AFTER I drove all the way down, searched for three hours and had to make the return journey empty-handed and still confused. What was the purpose of my journey? Why did I make that quest only to come up empty? It felt so right. I could even trace the things going on around me to elements of The Hero's Journey, which simultaneously gave me the creeps yet led me to believe I was on the right track.
Perhaps it was never about finding where a dead body lay. I have always believed that a body is not a person. It ceases to be a person as soon as the soul moved on. Perhaps the journey, the quest, was about being willing to face a reality different than I expected, different than what I had been so certain of. The Hero's Journey is always a metaphor for life, a reflection of our psyche and the way it affects every one of us. Maybe this journey was more of a metaphor than I realized. In which case the Elixir I returned with is the acknowledgement that things may not have been as I have always believed. And my Master of Both Worlds is the willingness to explore both the Old perceptions and the new ones.
"For the symbols of mythology are not manufactured; they cannot be ordered, invented, or permanently suppressed." ("The Hero with a Thousand Faces", Joseph Campbell, pg 4)
I have to see it. I'm going to find him. I have to see it for myself. I think I half expect to see him sitting on a headstone waiting for me. I'm going to ask him why.
I told mom. I told her he is dead. I showed her the obituary. And she cornered me and I told her he hurt me. She lost it. I hurt her so badly. I can't think why I would do that!! I hurts me so much to know I caused her pain. Even more to know that He was right. He said she would be mad if she found out. He told me she'd get so very upset that I waited so long to tell her. He said she would say, "What's wrong with you?!" to me. He did. If He was right about that - what else? How can people tell me He lied to me when He was right every time I've been able to prove?
Today's Quote is the entire lyrics from Animal I Have Become: Animal I Have Become lyrics
I can't escape this hell So many times i've tried But i'm still caged inside Somebody get me through this nightmare I can't control myself
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal (This animal, this animal)
I can't escape myself (I can't escape myself) So many times i've lied (So many times i've lied) But there's still rage inside Somebody get me through this nightmare I can't control myself
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal
Somebody help me through this nightmare I can't control myself Somebody wake me from this nightmare I can't escape this hell
(This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal)
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal (This animal I have become)
Here is yet another song that has grabbed me and captured my attention. Predictably it is off the Grey's Anatomy Season 3 Soundtrack. Breathe In Breathe Out... Some days that is all I can do and I would gladly stop doing that if I could find a way to do it without destroying my children. I think the song has a haunting mood to it, like someone on the edge of grabbing a hold of life and running with it, or letting it slip away like sand through his fingers. That is probably just because that is how I feel but the song, even without the lyrics, produces that mental image for me.
I'm embedding the actual music video (courtesy of youtube, as usual.) The lyrics are after it... (a tip you all probably know but i just figured out... if you click the picture, it will open a window and play the clip AT youtube. but if you click the little play button at the bottom it will play it directly here. y'all prolly knew that, but i just figured it out. *embarassed smile*)
Breathe in, breathe out Tell me all of your doubts Everybody bleeds this way, just the same Breathe in, breathe out Move on and break down If everyone goes away, I will stay We push and pull And I fall down sometimes And I’m not letting go You hold the other line Cause there is a light in your eyes, in your eyes
Hold on, hold tight If I’m out of your sight And everything keeps moving on, moving on Hold on, hold tight Make it through another night In every day there comes a song with the dawn We push and pull And I fall down sometimes And I’m not letting go You hold the other line Cause there is a light in your eyes, in your eyes There is a light in your eyes, in your eyes
Breathe in and breathe out Breathe in and breathe out Breathe in and breathe out Breathe in and breathe out
Look left, look right To the moon and the night Everything under the stars is in your arms
Cause there is a light in your eyes, in your eyes There is a light in your eyes, in your eyes There is a light in your eyes, in your eyes
Looking through these lyrics, the song is about holding on, having someone to help him hold on, a lifeline. The desire to keep going but the plea for help to keep doing it. It's not about making a choice to fall down, it's about having help to keep going. But it has a romantic side to it. Someone he cares about romantically is the one he is asking to help him.
I couldn't ask him to help me. He has too much fear and too much anger. He would want to know specifically what he should do and if I knew that I wouldn't have to ask for help. And, of course, there is always the large faction inside that doesn't want help, that wants to give up and go away, physically or mentally, just quit fighting. Because every breath in and every breath out feels like a fight. Just breathing shouldn't be so hard, should it?
There's no light in his eyes these days. He is tired and stressed out and I haven't exactly been initiating intimacy and the house is a mess and money is a disaster and everyone is running everywhere at once. Then add problems with our extended family and it's no wonder he loses his temper. It's no wonder there is no light in his eyes.
And I did that to him. There used to be light there. He used to be happy. *WE* used to be happy. We would laugh and joke and play and goof around. We didn't have to go anywhere to have fun and we didn't have to get intimate to have fun and having fun is usually what led to being intimate. At one time, being intimate with him was often a good thing. And we had fun. There used to be a light in his eyes. I took that from him and I don't know how to give it back.
So, for now, I guess I will "Keep Breathing" and "Breathe In and Breathe Out". I think I should do a post on why breathing is so important to me. But not right now. Right now I need to go take care of Baby.
"And all I can do is keep breathing" "Breathe in and breathe out"
He's dead. He died unexpectedly on June 21 of 2004 of a heart attack. He was 62 years old and had been married for 12 years. He has grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He lived less than 90 miles from here. According to the obituary, he enjoyed small engine repair and flea markets. FLEA MARKETS? He sounds like a nice old guy, not even old really.
What if I'm wrong? What if nothing ever happened and my imagination has run away with me? Maybe I had a bad dream and seized it and manufactured the rest. No wonder, then, that I don't remember stuff. I haven't made them up yet. Maybe he really was like everyone said he was: a big kid. He loved to have fun and wrestle and play hide and seek and no-tag-backs. Maybe we really did just go to restaurants to celebrate him getting back from a trip and maybe he gave me presents because he could.
What if I'm wrong? Maybe it was just a nightmare. Nothing more than a dream...
What if I am wrong?
"If we shadows have offended, "Think but this, and all is mended, "That you have but slumber'd here "While these visions did appear. "And this weak and idle theme, "No more yielding but a dream,"
