“Little darlin…its been a long cold lonely winter…little darlin…it feels like years since its been here…here comes the sun….here comes the sun…and I say…its all right….”
Lately I’ve been losing my shit a little. Well, that might be an understatement. A whole lot might be a more apt description
You’ve probably gathered that by the way I threw my coffee table out the front door the other day in my previous post. Writing has always been a source of solace for me but I sort of lost my way for the longest time and I lost the ability to put my thoughts into words.
I found myself critiquing EVERYTHING I wrote. It wasn’t funny, romantic or interesting. It didn’t sound right or it was just plain shit. It was forced and stilted. Basically it was written because I felt I had to write it. Because I felt that everyone EXPECTED it from me. Because I expected it from myself. Because I was the girl with the God given ability and here I was wasting it by NOT writing. So I just stopped. Rather than disappoint everyone and myself. I just shut down. If I couldn’t write the way I use to. The way I knew I could. They way that was fantastic, flowy, angst ridden and sometimes even down right pain filled then I wasn’t going to right AT ALL.
Because we all know it has to be perfect, right?
I just stopped. Shut that part of myself away and didn’t write away for TWO. WHOLE. YEARS.
And then yesterday at 4am, I was hit with the unstoppable urge to write again. Not for any other reason than that I needed to and I wanted too. I had something I needed and wanted to say. Too me and for me. I didn’t give a shit if people read it. If they did or they didn’t like it. I didn’t give a shit about that either. This time? This is all for me.
So today, I needed some inspiration. I knew I had things I wanted to say but I just wasn’t sure what. So I decided to go to the one person who has always had the ability to open me up like a flower and draw me out with his quiet, peaceful presence. Some one I can just sit by and feel comfortable with. Someone I know will always love me, protect me, have my back and never, ever judge me.
Even though he’s not on the earth any more.
Warren was my best friend.
And I loved him then and I love him now.
He was 19 when he took his own life and he was wise beyond his years.
Yeah I know, if he was wise beyond his years LJ then why did he take his own life?
Because he had work to do somewhere else, thats why.
This world was just not big enough for a personality like him.
So I honestly believe that he is in the next life with my grandmother and my ex and the three of them are working together to sort out the mess that is my crazy life.
But anyway, this post isn’t about him.
Its about the fact that right now I am sitting here at his headstone, in the sunshine, with my laptop writing because its where I feel at total peace. Its been freezing cold in Melbourne today but the moment I got here today, he turned on the blinding warm sun for me and for that I am grateful.
So lets talk.
There is much I need to work on in my life right now. And I am not sure where I want to begin. Some of my relationships have become toxic and I am not sure if I want to try to heal them or if I should just bundle them up in a nice ribbon and say “thanks for the memories, but its time for you to go”. I have many things left unsaid with some people who have caused me pain and heartache and I often think that if I speak to them and address the issues then perhaps I can let it go and feel like they have come to an end. These are some people that played a significant part in my life and that there causes me a great deal of heart ache. Especially when I read over old emails and letters and I think about all that we went through. But then the angry girl in me comes out and says nah, fuck you, why do I owe you anything. You made your bed. Deal with it. Something that I can work on with the new psychologist my cousin has put me in touch with.
I worry lately that I am alienating myself from the world. When I look back at my old blog and I see how open and honest I was, I think wow. These days I am almost like a hermit. I had a life then. I worked. I went out. I socialised. I had friends. These days I spend most of my time in my bedroom which is my sanctuary. I don’t see many of my friends. My interactions are mostly with my daughters and my grand baby and as you know I’ve only just started to write again and as for studying? I’ve lost all faith and self confidence in myself. But I’m slowly trying to work up to it again.
Truth be told, I’ve always said I didn’t care what people thought of me and said about me. But THAT couldn’t be ANY FURTHER from the truth. I care a lot and it drives me bat shit crazy. Because I shouldn’t care. I guess its a lot to do with the issues I have with my estranged family. I’ve been made to feel like shit by them for so many years that it stuck. Add into the mix the narcissistic shit I dealt with for all those years with Michael and its a recipe for disaster. Isn’t it?
I know, I know. I made things out with Michael to be perfect. But they were polar opposite. He tormented me daily. Actually hourly. But before we set up a lynch mob. I allowed it. I put up with it because he’d been in my life for so many years that I was convinced that we were star crossed lovers. We were destined to be together. It was fate. This was Mills and Boon shit guys. This was the man who was gonna save me, when I couldn’t save myself. Nope, this was the man who was gonna beat me down daily. Until there was almost nothing left. Until I hated him. Destroying a friendship of over 20 years. Its crazy how the world works.
People say to me all the time, your so brave LJ. Brave? Me? Are you fucking kidding? I’m not brave. I’m the biggest fucking coward on the face of the earth. You have no idea? I have a chance to put the story of my crazy, fucked up, drug addled, brothel managing, chid abuse surviving life into words in a book and I HAVE NOT DONE IT. Why? Because I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid that people will laugh at what I write. That it will sound silly. Even putting these blogs up sometimes fills me with terror BUT what most people don’t know is that here us a part of me that is a little masochistic and gets off on the pain. But thats a story for a different blog post. I want to write. I want to put it all out there. But what if people don’t like it? What if I do it and nobody reads it?
I’m not brave.
I’m a coward.
I tell my kids all the time to live their lives with out fear and to go out there and be brave.
Pretty hypocritical eh?
My children think I am the bravest woman on the face of the earth and I feel like such a fraud. I feel like such a disappointment to them. My two youngest daughters look at me with such love and admiration and they tell me all the time how wonderful and amazing they think I am for all the things I do for them. They tell me how strong and invincible they think I am and all the while I’m crumbling inside. But I cant tell them because I cant disappoint them by letting them know that the one woman they love and admire is really the biggest fraud and pretender around.
So I guess this is where it all begins again. I start to put one foot in front of the other. I put my fingers on the keys and I pour my words out here and I just write. I write what ever comes to my mind. Some of it is going to make perfect sense. Some of it will come out with perfect clarity. Some of it will come with great wracking sobs that will leave me so empty that when I am done, I’ll have nothing left. Some of it will fill me with horrors that I wont want to remember and some of it will fill me with pure unadulterated joy and remind me of all the reasons I’m alive.
I’ve just sat here and deleted an entire paragraph that said I will get back to the person that I used to be. But I won’t. Because I don’t want to be that Lisa. That Lisa is gone. That Lisa was the one who just toed the line. The Lisa who smiled because she thought she had to. That Lisa who did what every one told her she should.
I will get to the point where I will become the Lisa I am meant to be. I don’t know who that is. All I know is that I’m getting older and I’m changing as I do. I’m finding the things I loved before, no longer love. I’m finding love in different things. And thats okay with me. I just don’t know what those things are. But I’ll find them.
Thank GOD for the clarity that my best friend gives me. I’m blessed that he’s still watching over me. Right now, I’m feeling better than I have in the last few days.’
Life’s a journey they say, not a destination.
Looks like my journey is taking me in a new direction….