The words don't come as fast
As the images do,
But they will.
One day.
I guess.
I wish I had them;
They're all I've got
Most of the time. The rhyme
Never escapes me,
But it comes in with a vengeance
When the literal gets
Too real.
I'd rather speak in metaphor
Than piece together the violence
Of real words
That hurt,
Circle and Pierce the spirit
Like a crown of thorns...
Yeah: that real.
For now,
A blank space will do
Because I don't have the energy
To lie to you.
And the truth won't fit.
Imagine what you wish
To find here.
Write back soon...
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Meh.
I come on a bit strong sometimes. Especially if I get too comfortable.
That's rare, though. As a Sagittarius, I never allow myself too much comfort. I need to be 10 steps ahead at all times. ALL TIMES.
But people love when you "keep it real". And I love people, and being honest, so why not knock out two birds with one stone (being, the rock of realness"...lol)? There's only one place where this practice fails me.
Matters of the heart.
With the opposite sex.
After the age of 25. Lol
Talking to a friend tonight (or not a friend...?), I appreciated that he welcomed my perspective on the female psyche without thinking I was trying to inch up on him romantically. I truly enjoy helping my men out with this because who else would? And I'm always right :)
However, by doing this, I realize that I exit the romance zone in my gentleman friend's mind and immediately enter "homie" status. In this case, that works for me (and I vocalized this, lol), but I wonder how many other men I've pushed away unknowingly because of this need to make people feel comfortable around me? Sometimes, I think it may be something else (height, hair, weight, skin tone, credentials, etc) that detracts them. But it could very well be how damn friendly I am.
Men like women with issues.
I don't want men to know mine.
I don't want men trying to save me.
Jesus has that covered.
As I smile, laugh and make light of some rather sad situations in the world of dating, I lose.
And so goes my blog.
That's rare, though. As a Sagittarius, I never allow myself too much comfort. I need to be 10 steps ahead at all times. ALL TIMES.
But people love when you "keep it real". And I love people, and being honest, so why not knock out two birds with one stone (being, the rock of realness"...lol)? There's only one place where this practice fails me.
Matters of the heart.
With the opposite sex.
After the age of 25. Lol
Talking to a friend tonight (or not a friend...?), I appreciated that he welcomed my perspective on the female psyche without thinking I was trying to inch up on him romantically. I truly enjoy helping my men out with this because who else would? And I'm always right :)
However, by doing this, I realize that I exit the romance zone in my gentleman friend's mind and immediately enter "homie" status. In this case, that works for me (and I vocalized this, lol), but I wonder how many other men I've pushed away unknowingly because of this need to make people feel comfortable around me? Sometimes, I think it may be something else (height, hair, weight, skin tone, credentials, etc) that detracts them. But it could very well be how damn friendly I am.
Men like women with issues.
I don't want men to know mine.
I don't want men trying to save me.
Jesus has that covered.
As I smile, laugh and make light of some rather sad situations in the world of dating, I lose.
And so goes my blog.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Reconnecting
I love my family for trying to understand and love who I'm becoming, when the fact is that I'm not even sure who I'll be yet. They seem a bit more comfortable with this process, my moods, and some of my disappearances (they are not comfortable with my wandering by car yet, lol) than even I am. This has helped my transition to living at home for the summer quite a bit.
Back in Amherst, I find myself silenced quite a bit, and that bred a reluctance to speaking or sharing. Whether it was trying (unsuccessfully) to connect with someone because of limited airtime (some folks take up that much space!) or stopping short of disclosing myself for fear of judgment, I've just opted for silence. And sometimes, cigarettes. Holding all of this in is unhealthy and distracting--a dangerous thing when most of my livelihood is supported by my ability to think and be mentally present.
Being with my family has kept me accountable to myself in a way that haven't been in the past few months. They make me talk about what's going on in my life, what lies ahead, and remind me of who I was before I got into a slump. Before even over sharing my life's details with my father last week, for instance, we had a conversation about young people needing to get married. True to his fashion, he argued that "dumb m----- f----- needed to get married between 16 and 30" while they still look good and someone will still put up with them. The quoted part was omitted at first (lol), so, applying the commentary to my own singleness, I asked him:
"Well, what if you don't have a choice of whether you're single or not? What if there's just...no one?"
He looked at me seriously and added the above quoted criteria to his assessment, thus--in his words--removing me from the pantheon of dumb m----- f------s. and he said something that I've been wrestling with for a while:
"As a young professional, you could possibly support yourself. There's not too much a man can offer you financially. You don't need a 'good relationship' right now. You need a good 'thurapist'."
That's how he pronounces "therapist".
His reasoning was the pressure of my work. I wanted to cry because he was so right! But I laughed and told him about my experience with the shrink at UMass a few months ago (read my blog). He told me to try again, so I will. First, here...if my position covers meetings with CAPS...and I will follow up in the fall at UMass.
Of all the people here and perhaps on Earth, my mother understands me spiritually (among other ways) in ways that the rest of my family does not. As a believer in Christ, it had to be difficult not to have a spouse also committed to being a follower and teacher of His word, but by herself, she tried to expose us to Him. I wanted to check out a local church today that is in the same network as Vita Nova (Acts 29), and she offered to go with me--even though they were meeting in a park on a street corner in the middle of the hood (she lived in that neighborhood once). My brother and his fiancée brought brunch over for Fathers Day, so I opted out (I hadn't seen them in months) and did a bible study/prayer later at a coffee shop. But later that afternoon, we sat outside and talked about songs that moved us...while she winced, at first, to the Christian rock I played between Fred Hammond and Tonex, and then nodded along.
And then there's my brother, my sister, and our adventures in dating (collectively). While I'm sometimes the voice of reason in these conversations, every leap year, I have my WTF moments. And guess what? It's 2012. Lol
My brother's engaged and my sister is a hot commodity. And I contend that I'm a hot mess and need to be under a rock...at least until I'm ready to come out and play. My sister, having gained some wisdom from somewhere (dad) over the last few years understands....even my insecurities and regressions. My brother, however, is different. He doesn't understand how I can be critical of myself when the men I date (or don't...they are all bad to a big brother, lol), in his opinion, are a hot mess. However, after saying this, he proceeds to deliberate with Mallory (the fiancée) about who I should date:
(He whispers hushedly to her. I hear him)
"no....I'm not going to say that," she says.
"Yea! He's perfect though. Tell her...."
Mallory looks at me and sighs,
"Your brother thinks you should date Harry Potter."
Yes.
I'm going to bed now. Lol. Goodnight.
Back in Amherst, I find myself silenced quite a bit, and that bred a reluctance to speaking or sharing. Whether it was trying (unsuccessfully) to connect with someone because of limited airtime (some folks take up that much space!) or stopping short of disclosing myself for fear of judgment, I've just opted for silence. And sometimes, cigarettes. Holding all of this in is unhealthy and distracting--a dangerous thing when most of my livelihood is supported by my ability to think and be mentally present.
Being with my family has kept me accountable to myself in a way that haven't been in the past few months. They make me talk about what's going on in my life, what lies ahead, and remind me of who I was before I got into a slump. Before even over sharing my life's details with my father last week, for instance, we had a conversation about young people needing to get married. True to his fashion, he argued that "dumb m----- f----- needed to get married between 16 and 30" while they still look good and someone will still put up with them. The quoted part was omitted at first (lol), so, applying the commentary to my own singleness, I asked him:
"Well, what if you don't have a choice of whether you're single or not? What if there's just...no one?"
He looked at me seriously and added the above quoted criteria to his assessment, thus--in his words--removing me from the pantheon of dumb m----- f------s. and he said something that I've been wrestling with for a while:
"As a young professional, you could possibly support yourself. There's not too much a man can offer you financially. You don't need a 'good relationship' right now. You need a good 'thurapist'."
That's how he pronounces "therapist".
His reasoning was the pressure of my work. I wanted to cry because he was so right! But I laughed and told him about my experience with the shrink at UMass a few months ago (read my blog). He told me to try again, so I will. First, here...if my position covers meetings with CAPS...and I will follow up in the fall at UMass.
Of all the people here and perhaps on Earth, my mother understands me spiritually (among other ways) in ways that the rest of my family does not. As a believer in Christ, it had to be difficult not to have a spouse also committed to being a follower and teacher of His word, but by herself, she tried to expose us to Him. I wanted to check out a local church today that is in the same network as Vita Nova (Acts 29), and she offered to go with me--even though they were meeting in a park on a street corner in the middle of the hood (she lived in that neighborhood once). My brother and his fiancée brought brunch over for Fathers Day, so I opted out (I hadn't seen them in months) and did a bible study/prayer later at a coffee shop. But later that afternoon, we sat outside and talked about songs that moved us...while she winced, at first, to the Christian rock I played between Fred Hammond and Tonex, and then nodded along.
And then there's my brother, my sister, and our adventures in dating (collectively). While I'm sometimes the voice of reason in these conversations, every leap year, I have my WTF moments. And guess what? It's 2012. Lol
My brother's engaged and my sister is a hot commodity. And I contend that I'm a hot mess and need to be under a rock...at least until I'm ready to come out and play. My sister, having gained some wisdom from somewhere (dad) over the last few years understands....even my insecurities and regressions. My brother, however, is different. He doesn't understand how I can be critical of myself when the men I date (or don't...they are all bad to a big brother, lol), in his opinion, are a hot mess. However, after saying this, he proceeds to deliberate with Mallory (the fiancée) about who I should date:
(He whispers hushedly to her. I hear him)
"no....I'm not going to say that," she says.
"Yea! He's perfect though. Tell her...."
Mallory looks at me and sighs,
"Your brother thinks you should date Harry Potter."
Yes.
I'm going to bed now. Lol. Goodnight.
Friday, June 8, 2012
A poem: Remembering...
Love is brightly blinding,
but you trust that the light
doesn't burn.
At first.
A first time becomes a second
of multiple reactions
teeming with satisfactions,
as you fall in and out of rhythm
with yourself,
hoping to merge with another.
Some things don't mix well,
but you're drawn to the passion
like a moth to flame,
desperate to be burned
but fearing the pain.
Blinded...
Stumbling through words and actions,
saying what's repulsive or pleasing,
but never asking or meaning.
What are you feeling?
The heart beats you to a pulp
when faced with stagnation,
but the urge to protect it
hardens you.
But the flame always melts away
that wax you thought was iron-clad.
But the pain...
burning...
brightly...
blinding...
but you trust that the light
doesn't burn.
At first.
A first time becomes a second
of multiple reactions
teeming with satisfactions,
as you fall in and out of rhythm
with yourself,
hoping to merge with another.
Some things don't mix well,
but you're drawn to the passion
like a moth to flame,
desperate to be burned
but fearing the pain.
Blinded...
Stumbling through words and actions,
saying what's repulsive or pleasing,
but never asking or meaning.
What are you feeling?
The heart beats you to a pulp
when faced with stagnation,
but the urge to protect it
hardens you.
But the flame always melts away
that wax you thought was iron-clad.
But the pain...
burning...
brightly...
blinding...
Friday, June 1, 2012
It's been far too long...
Life is crazy.
Then again, life is what you shape it to be, from the blessings you are given to the choices you refuse or fear making. This period of my full 28.5 years has by far been the most fascinating--both enjoyable and intolerable at times. I'm growing, but I still feel cocooned to a point. I used to think that cocoon was Amherst, until I began to understand that I am my own inhibitor, stopping myself from emerging just short of seeing the light.
Or maybe it isn't time to break yet. I trust that God will let me know when.
I have had countless conversations about what is wrong with the world, what is wrong with people here (and what's right, sometimes), what is wrong with this town that lies behind a "Tofu Curtain", what is wrong with me. The answers I both receive and conjure on my own all vary depending on the multitude of perspectives I encounter and the particular moments at which we exchange ideas. I have noticed that more often, however, I spend less and less time considering what is right about the aforementioned things. To the point of keeping this blog introspective, I won't touch on the "what's wrong with the world...the people here" points, but I refuse not to talk about me right now. I need to, so bear with me.
I told my roommate on Memorial Day (while reflecting on the many moods we've both experienced over the last year) that it is often hard to be yourself in a space that is not conducive to who you were and who you would like to become. For me, I identify Amherst as my space of suppression. Having been here since I was 23, this is a space where I have come of age in a way I wasn't able to while attending undergraduate and working in my hometown. Reflecting on my choices then--even not having any qualms about uprooting myself to Amherst--I wonder if my older self would have chosen this path, given the same opportunities.
I can't answer that question, and I trust that God has me (and her) here for a multitude of reasons. If you'd ask me to list them now, I couldn't :)
I'm just trusting Him on this one. In any case, this blog has always provided an outlet that sitting with myself, praying, or talking to others has not allowed. So I'm back, after a brief, but intense, hiatus. One day, if I haven't in person,
I'll catch you up to my Amherst adventures, but I'm still processing a lot of them (LOL). Some things just don't compute (and shouldn't).
Then again, life is what you shape it to be, from the blessings you are given to the choices you refuse or fear making. This period of my full 28.5 years has by far been the most fascinating--both enjoyable and intolerable at times. I'm growing, but I still feel cocooned to a point. I used to think that cocoon was Amherst, until I began to understand that I am my own inhibitor, stopping myself from emerging just short of seeing the light.
Or maybe it isn't time to break yet. I trust that God will let me know when.
I have had countless conversations about what is wrong with the world, what is wrong with people here (and what's right, sometimes), what is wrong with this town that lies behind a "Tofu Curtain", what is wrong with me. The answers I both receive and conjure on my own all vary depending on the multitude of perspectives I encounter and the particular moments at which we exchange ideas. I have noticed that more often, however, I spend less and less time considering what is right about the aforementioned things. To the point of keeping this blog introspective, I won't touch on the "what's wrong with the world...the people here" points, but I refuse not to talk about me right now. I need to, so bear with me.
I told my roommate on Memorial Day (while reflecting on the many moods we've both experienced over the last year) that it is often hard to be yourself in a space that is not conducive to who you were and who you would like to become. For me, I identify Amherst as my space of suppression. Having been here since I was 23, this is a space where I have come of age in a way I wasn't able to while attending undergraduate and working in my hometown. Reflecting on my choices then--even not having any qualms about uprooting myself to Amherst--I wonder if my older self would have chosen this path, given the same opportunities.
I can't answer that question, and I trust that God has me (and her) here for a multitude of reasons. If you'd ask me to list them now, I couldn't :)
I'm just trusting Him on this one. In any case, this blog has always provided an outlet that sitting with myself, praying, or talking to others has not allowed. So I'm back, after a brief, but intense, hiatus. One day, if I haven't in person,
I'll catch you up to my Amherst adventures, but I'm still processing a lot of them (LOL). Some things just don't compute (and shouldn't).
Friday, December 9, 2011
So I went to a "Shrink" yesterday...
After an emotional rollercoaster of a year and a rather tumultuous few weeks, I finally made it over to UMass's counseling and psychiatric services yesterday to try and sort out my emotions with a "neutral party"--a shrink.
A list of things (in no particular order) led me to re-evaluate being evaluated and seeking help, not limited to:
1) Residual emotions about social and academic happenings related to graduate school.
2) Sadness triggered by homesickeness
3) Despair triggered by a baseless long-distance relationship
4) Powerlessness over finances towards a long-time goal (buying a car)
5) The death of a friend
6) Supporting friends and family as they identified/mourned (I also mourned) lost friend
7) Adjusting to two new jobs (nothing more stressful than feeling like a rookie)
8) Being at a Dissertation stalemate
9) Still mourning the loss of my grandmother
10) Pre-mourning the loss of Miracle, my family's 9-year-old Golden Retriever, who has cancer
The list could go on, but I'll stop here. I went in to seek help (for all of this) on Monday, November 14, shell-shocked but moving anyway; while I don't have much, I did have students, friends and family depending on me in various regards. I had to get right.
They gave me a general look over and questions, and told me to go home, subsequently telling me to come back next week.
I wasn't in crisis, according to desk staff.
If you saw me anytime around November 14, you knew "crisis" was not the word.
In any case, things got progressively worse, for the better...as ironic as that may seem. By God's providence, I thought, I had a car lined up to buy...not necessarily the fancier models I had hoped I could purchase but something that I could whip back and forth...preferably to Albany and Chicopee, MA, to spend time with my then-boyfriend. The day before I exchange funds for the car, the car is in an accident. #FAIL.
Superadded to everything else, I was crushed by this glitch in my plans. Literally, broken in half. But, once again, Providence seems to come through. I was tipped on another car, "newer" (meaning late '90s, lol), lower mileage, etc...same price, with a plan. Again, a way to bridge the divide between the boyfriend and I. There is a snafu with the paperwork that causes a two-month delay in purchasing. Again, #fail.
I promise, however, God knows what He's doing, all the time!
The same day that my hopes were high about this new car was the same day that George (my former boyfriend), dumped me...citing distance, his work load, and my recent helplessness and his related helplessness to help me as a reason for us to part ways--the "it's-not-you-it's-me" speech. I had only heard these on television, having never been broken up with before. Mind you, the first two reasons were questions I'd brought up on LABOR DAY about our relationship (He prefaced his windy, pointless speech with "Remember in September when you asked..." for instance). The entire time he tried to insist that he wasn't using me (which he did for company at his friends weddings and barbecues and to edit his papers for class through October) or stringing me along (which he was honestly because he could have said something, anything before November besides "I understand your point"). It was selfish and pathetic, largely.
This is what I call an asshole move, ladies and gentlemen. But I may be worse than him, because while he was pouring his heart out saying what I think he thought I wanted him to say (a pattern), I was thrilled. His lopsided sympathy couldn't have better timing. At the point that he exited my life ("exited" because I've purged myself of all but memories), I was one stressor less. Life got that much better.
From there, attention turned to other stressors and how to make them better or non-existent, seeing that God was willing to provide if I was willing to surrender.
I gave up on "out-of-pocket" purchased cars (for now) and instead went to my credit union (take #2...the first exchange wasn't so nice) for financial counseling. Only because there was no reason to purchase a car a week before I leave for Detroit, I'll be an owner of a 2006 or later car model in late January or February, LORD-WILLING :)
During the week of Thanksgiving, I near-haphazardly rented a 2011 Camry (**drool**) so I could house-hop as a single woman and enjoy the holiday weekend out with friends. This alone was so recharging that I'd nearly forgotten the breakup (until "Purging Day"), the car drama, and the homesickeness. I just lived, happily, and gave thanks.
The next two weeks, I celebrated my birthday with friends and students between three parties (my last class, on my birthday, was a wrap-up party...with birthday cake and a gift from my co-teacher and a card from some of my students :)). I had a blast, and I honestly face-palmed myself for ignoring all of the love that the Lord had surrounded me with through these people and my family while I chased after the idea of lopsided love with one person who didn't deserve time.
BACK TO MY "SHRINK"
Finally, I arrived at the counseling suite, letting them know on their little questionnaire how the Lord and I helped me, without their help, in as many words can fit on the little lines as possible.
My therapist, who was offputtingly abrupt at first meet, apologized for them overlooking my condition, but turned it back on me saying that I should have basically begged for help or stayed until someone knew I was "bleeding inside".
I didn't quite see the need to run down this list of faith bringing me through, especially when after prodding him with questions about relationships and work stress he tried to sum it up to generalized "daddy issues" (which he could not "diagnose" after hearing about our relationshp) and offending me something terrible by asking me "Coming from Detroit, how did you end up in graduate school?"
Sigh.
Needless to say, he determined that someone as articulate as I am doesn't--I'm sorry--DON'T need no counseling. I don't agree completely, as we all need to check in sometimes. I certainly didn't need his patronistic assessment of my black single female educated self.
I should've went to see Lucy from "Peanuts". Probably would have had the same results, but at least she's famous for not helping people.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Copout
Well, this one was coming.
And I'm not even bitter. Yet.
I after witnessing and experiencing some interesting male/female relationship and friendship dynamics, I've been prompted by my own curiosity to issue the following question to the opposite sex:
Why can't you deal with life as it is given instead of sacrificing everything for a little bit of nothing? ("Nothing" read: a few moments of bad sex with a hot (or not) stranger, an addiction, a demanding job with little return, your self-importance, etc., etc.)
Almost every man I know is always in search of "more". What "more" is depends on the extent of his ego. "More" could be still reaching for a childhood dream that he may or may not have (severely) out-aged. "More" could be him seeking a sexual outlet from his relationship because his (very) familiar repertoire of sexual prowess causes his partner to all but capitulate to sex with him; but a new/girl or guy wouldn't know all his "old tricks" for a few more months. "More" also accounts for those men who put love, personal health, family, etc. on the backburners in a vain effort to prove not only to himself but to the world (who does not care, largely, while the people who do are forced to lie in wait) that he is somebody. The "more" that they seek is generally egotistical: I want someone ELSE to find me interesting, virile, attractive, lovable etc., etc., but in the meantime, I expect to hold on to everything I don't appreciate. What is this about? What is listed above are just my opinionated observations (all are real scenarios).
The general reaction the prompting of this question or the simplified question of "Why the hell are you so damn selfish?" consists of a combination of the blaming of others (often the neglected) for their lack of support or the mention imaginary parties on whom these gentlemen base their egos (often call "everybody else" or "they" or "my boys"). Those of us "lying in wait" don't care about those imaginary people and, largely, those of us who do express a genuine love and concern don't offer our opinions or our truths to discourage or hurt you but to help that ego at least be based in something productive and to show that we do care. Of course, any direct or indirect attack on the male ego's more ridiculous endeavors are grounds for dismissal, name-calling and other abuses, or infidelity. Women, however, are deemed crazy, ungrateful, bitchy, unlovable...when we choose to be miserable by ourselves instead of miserable with His Royal Useless--king of the cats.
But of course these same men (who fall into the categories above) will love a woman who is like them all day. They will chase after infidelity, stay to endure verbal and physical abuse, let a woman use him as an ATM, they will play "daddy" to a woman with no direction...and sometimes they will do this clandestinely while a good woman is still clueless and hanging on. What prompts this? Albeit, many women do fall into these same categories of "downsyness" (Miah's word for extreme stupidity), but what would prompt anyone to emotionally wreck themselves and others whom they supposedly love with self-destructive commitments and behaviors that may temporarily boost one's ego?
I'm not buying the copouts anymore.
But, still, I'm not bitter. Yet.
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