|
Meet your Special Someone™
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........
All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.
That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.
The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.
My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..
Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry
Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life
Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use
Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness
Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life
You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.)
|
|
|
| What Motivates Us? |
Apr 14, 2007 1:42 am
1598 Views | I've been thinking a lot about what makes us happy, what motivates us, what keeps us living even when it's hard. I'm not suicidal; not even close. It's so totally not my style. I've just been thinking through my world and wondering what makes me keep going.
I read in the paper about people who are so devastated by name-calling, harrassment, being made fun of...that they take a gun and kill the person or people who did it. It seems like such a cop-out to me. That's such a small part of what happens to others every day of their lives. It's certainly no excuse to pick up a weapon and harm another person.
Life is a choice we make, each and every day, how we will face the world; how we will shape our world. Even if we can't change today, we make a choice to try to change tomorrow.
In spite of every word ever said to hurt, every action ever taken to hurt...I chose to face each day and deal with it. It doesn't make me strong or wise or anything else. It's just a choice I made. In spite of the pain in the past, I chose to fight for something better.
It wasn't even really a conscious choice at first; it was just survival. As I grew older, it became more intentional. Never let the bad guys win. Never let them see you cry. The greatest revenge is to live a good life...in spite of the past.
But...what motivates us to make that choice? What separates those of us who have to hurt back from those of us who simply choose not to be the people who hurt us...not to let them destroy the people we are?
I'm not the same person I would have been without my past; but I often think that in lots of ways I'm a better person than I would have been. I have a strong understanding of the pain others have been through; I realize fully that my past is not the worst it could have been...or even the worst anyone has suffered; I have a tendency to reach out fully to people in need; I have a strong need to protect...to love. I might never have been the person I am without living the life I lived.
But what made me choose to keep going? Money has never been important to me beyond having just enough to pay my bills, support myself, and improve my lifestyle slightly. I was once inches from living on the street. I don't want to be there again, but I don't need much. Power doesn't interest me either. It is such a fleeting thing. Religion? Hmmm, no. I believe in spirituality, but not in religion.
Tonight it pretty much fell into place for me...the things I search for so hard that I can't give up, can't let go, can't let anyone stop me. I have always been hungry for knowledge...one more book, one more story, one more lesson. I want to learn everything there is to know. I know it's impractical, but I believe that our entire life is a learning experience meant to guide us further on our path...and then we step into another lesson.
Unconditional love. Somewhere, somehow...I believe someone will love the woman I am for exactly who she is...no more, no less. Someone who doesn't want to change me to fit their mold, but will accept me because they love my uniqueness. It's been an important driver in my life...the one thing I couldn't have became the one thing I had to have.
Approval. It's amazing when you think of the implications of that word. I need approval. I need to know I've done something right, well, properly, perfectly. I need someone else to put the stamp of approval on my life. Who is going to approve my life? The only people whose opinions matter are me...and my God/dess. Beyond that, why should I care? Why does it even matter?
I suspect it matters so much to me because I've always felt like I let everyone down. So, I need to know I haven't done that. Sad little motivator, isn't it?
In a way, the counseling I'm doing is helping me to see past some of the barriers I've put up to protect me from pain. It's a very good thing. I want to live a strong and healthy life....not in response or reaction to what is done to me....but in spite of it. If I'm hiding behind the need for someone else to affirm my life...I'm not living my own life. So, time to re-evaluate.
Knowledge is still critical to me. I still think it is a large part of our purpose here on Earth.
Love is as well, but I've found that there are many forms of love. I am loved in my own way. I have people around me who see me clearly through the naughtiness. People who see the marshmallow underneath. People who love me for the woman I am; not the woman they want me to be. There are plenty of people who don't like me...I'm pretty much an all or nothing kind of girl...people either really care about me...or they really dislike me. If I never find that right person in this life...it will come to me in another.
Approval...well, I have to work on that one. I don't want to be motivated by a need for anyone's approval. I know it's going to be a struggle to get around it...but I can do that as well. It will mean letting go of people who think they have the right to judge me. It's ok, though. I have to learn that as long as I approve of my life, that's all that matters.
I love life. I love it even when it hurts; even when I just want to close my eyes and let go; even when I just want to give in and let the people around me win. There's this real beauty about each breath we take, each hand we hold, each life we touch. I long for those fragments. Being motivated by love and knowledge...I can think of much worse things.
What about you? What drives your life? Where are you going....and who do you want to be when you get there? What matters most in your world? | |
|
16 Comments | |
| It Wasn't My Fault? |
Apr 11, 2007 8:38 pm
1780 Views | Heartbeat...you asked if I would post the story of my head injury...so...I had posted this in April of last year...it is more than the story...but it tells the entire story. Actually, I want to thank you for asking...it made me reconsider the experience I had in counseling last year...and I have to re-evaluate a few other situations in my life with this in mind.
Hope you are well....I'm worried about you.
Love and hugs,
Ari
Many years ago I went to a counselor for a year. I thought he was the greatest man on earth. I was only 16. He didn't really help me to deal with my father's abuse, he did more to help me begin to feel good about myself. An IQ test took me a long way there, teaching me to write my feelings out in my poetry did even more. By the time the military moved him away from Colorado, I at least had some self-confidence, a tiny bit of self-esteem. It didn't take long for my parents to strip that away.
I went again after I was attacked by a man who used a knife to control me. This counselor did nothing for me; her practice was to sit quietly and wait for me to talk. I don't do that well; I'm too uncomfortable until I begin to feel we are connecting.
The counselor I'm seeing now is very different from both. I began seeing him because I realized that I was demotivated in all aspects of my life. Nothing seemed to matter to me any more. I just didn't want to be bothered by anything. I was allowing my natural inclination to procrastinate to take over my world. Carolyn had told me I sounded angry a lot. That's really not who I am...and not who I want to be.
So, he told me we're going to use a process called EMDR to work through the traumatic events of my life. I've had to fill out lots of paperwork so he could see if I was dissociative, schizophrenic, paranoid, bats. He missed the bats part...ask anyone.
The idea behind this process is that they use something to distract your mind while you work through (discuss) your issues...well, it's one issue at a time until it's resolved. I can see years of work ahead of me. I had to make a list of the primary traumatic events in my life.
1. My father
2. Each of the three rapes
3. The assault
4. Falling off the high dive
5. My ex
6. My mother
I left some of the lesser events....like flipping off the hood of a car as it drove 35 mph down a parking lot...because they were just that...lesser events.
We decided that EMDR wasn't a good option for dealing with my mother since it is an ongoing event...similarly, dealing with my ex may not be a prime option...although dealing with our past may be. So, we went to the high dive. It seemed simplest to work through; the event most likely to have a simple resolution. And I would love to be over my terror of heights.
Today was the day. I went to his office this evening; he schedules me late since I have to meet with him after work and he's nearly 50 miles away. He handed me two tiny egg-shaped disks with wires attached. I promptly stuck them to my head and said, "I'm thinking of a number between one and ten." I generally respond to things that frighten me with jokes and laughter. It happened such a long time ago, I don't usually think of it with fear or trepidation; but it left me with a life-long terror of any place that even feels high up.
We went over the story...when I was about five, my mother signed me up for a diving class. At the end of the first class, I was supposed to dive twice off the low board. I was afraid to do it. It became an issue between me and the instructor, and he offered an alternative. I'm sure he never expected me to take it. I had the option of diving twice from the low board or jumping twice from the high board. I chose jumping. I knew what to expect from jumping in the water; I'd been swimming since I was a baby.
So, he went up and jumped off, I went up and jumped off. Hey, this was lots of fun and I liked how deep I got in the water. I climbed back up, walked to the end of the board, looked down....and froze. I just couldn't jump from that high. As an adult I can say that was an illogical decision. As a five year old, I can see how the height terrified me.
The instructor asked if I would do it if he showed me again. I said I would. He climbed up and walked past me on the diving board. I stepped back to give him room. My foot slipped on the wet board. I landed on the concrete side of the pool, head first. I was in a coma for two weeks and had massive skull injuries to the back of my head.
They tell me there's a piece of skull that was pushed into my brain. They couldn't operate on it because of where it was at. It could have shifted and if it had, it would have killed me instantly. I still have a lump at the back of my head where the bone was deformed from the injury...and from healing. It's a good thing I have a ton of hair to cover it.
The results of the injury are that I periodically have massive migraines. They have decreased substantially with age. I also have a residual fear of heights. Every few years I try again to get on a high board; every time I do, I simply freeze.
We talked about how I feel when I'm in a high place; I had to imagine it in my head and I pretty much froze in his chair. But, then he asked me an odd question. "Why did you step back when he walked past you?" I think it was because he needed room, I don't really remember why. "Why do you step back from every man who gets too close to you?" Well...it's not every man...at least, it is until I know them...and then some men can touch me...others will never get closer than five feet away from me. "Why is that?" I had to think about that for a few minutes.
As I'm thinking, his disks are vibrating in my hands; first one, then the other.
Because I'm afraid of what they will do to me. "Why are you afraid of what they will do to you?" Because of my father. "Exactly. Your fear of your father made you step away when this man came too close." But isn't it natural to step away when you are in a tight space? "Is it natural to step away when there is nowhere to step?" Oh.
Then he had me assign ratios of responsibility for the accident. Me, the instructor, my father...how responsible were each of us? Well, I think I was about 50% responsible; it was my actions that led to the incident occurring. My father might have caused the fear reaction, so about 25% to him and 25% to the instructor. "Is that the grown up Ari saying that or the little girl Ari?" I don't understand. "How responsible would you feel any other child was for that accident?" I don't know. He handed me a picture of his five year old son. "How responsible would you consider him if that accident happened to him?" How could he be responsible; he's just a baby. "Exactly. How could you be responsible?" But...it was my actions....
"Remember when I told you that victims of trauma tend to do an all or nothing thing? It's either all their responsibility or none of theirs? You are leaning towards the all side. How could you be responsible for knowing what could happen if he climbed that high dive and got on it while you were on it? How could you know your father had taught you to be afraid of any man who came into your space? How could you know?"
I have tears running down my cheeks and I'm terribly uncomfortable. I think we've assigned the percentages wrong. I want to give Ari 15% responsibility, the instructor 60%, my father 10%, and my mother 15%. "Why are we adding your mother in here?" Because I remember something now. I remember how she was when we were kids...well, heck...all our lives. We had to behave like ladies; we had to do what any adult asked us to do; had I not done what the instructor wanted, she would have spent the afternoon and night telling me what a baby I was; what a bad girl; how sorry she was that she'd even tried to teach me diving. She has a nasty habit of berating until you do whatever she wants. I remember the instructor was not happy with me; he was pretty upset that I had disrupted his class; he was determined to make me do what he wanted, not what I felt safe doing.
"So you were also afraid of him." I guess so. I'd never thought of it this way before, but yes, I was afraid of what he would do if I didn't obey him...and more afraid of what my mother would do.
"What could you do to control the situation?" Nothing. Well, really I could do what I was told to do. Be a good girl, be a lady, do what I was told. "So how responsible could any child in those circumstances be?" They couldn't. "So how responsible was little Ari?" She wasn't. "So, change the percentages." I did. I still had tears running down my face as I told him how much I hadn't wanted to do either...but I had no choice. I hate people seeing me cry.
We talked a bit more and he said something I keep thinking about. "Most people get a tremendous sense of relief realizing they were innocent of responsibility for something that happened TO them; something they couldn't control. I'm watching how uncomfortable you are with the idea that you are not responsible." I've never considered myself not responsible for anything that happened in my life. "But some things can't be your responsibility. It will be interesting to see what happens when it finally truly sinks in that you had no responsibility for this accident. You did nothing wrong, it was the circumstances of events that had happened to you. I've never seen anyone so resistant to believing in their own innocence."
I didn't know what to say to that. I still don't. Don't we all carry responsibility for at least a part of events that occur to us? I've always had to face my responsibility, my culpability...for the things that happened. I've always had plenty of people around to rub my face in it and show me exactly how I caused each and every situation in my life. How do I now look at any of those events and say, "Maybe it wasn't my fault."?
His parting comment...that I am a tough nut. lol...he got the nut right.
I thought I'd share this session in the hope that there is a message you can take from it. It isn't always our fault...there are plenty of times it is...but maybe we need to rethink the circumstances...and accept only the responsibility we actually need to own.
Love to you all.
Ari | |
|
14 Comments | |
| The Me I See |
Apr 9, 2007 10:58 pm
1532 Views |  | Can you let me be?
Can you walk away and
Let me be the me I see
In the tattered mirror that
My soul sees me inside?
Will you grant freedom to my
Aching heart -
Be there to share the needful part
But allow the room
I need to grow,
From a little bud a
Rose may flow. |
| |
|
5 Comments | |
| Missing in Action |
Apr 9, 2007 10:52 pm
1398 Views | Sorry I haven't visited most of you...sorry I haven't been around. Life gets busy and I have to move with it or just stop moving all together.
Work is wonderful; busy with lots of new projects...which is great since I told my boss I thought I was superfluous in my last performance eval...and asked for more work...I must be sick or something.
School is finally moving on again. It took me awhile to get past just being tired...and then bogged down in too much sadness...too much to do...too much overwhelming need for time for me.
The house keeps me busy on breaks from schoolwork and I'm loving that. I'm painting my living room a stunning blue and it just lights my heart up every time I walk in there. I spent a small fortune on tools and remodelling supplies. We'll see how that goes. Just one project at a time. When I finish that, I can do the next one. It's exciting seeing things change, though.
Still no man in my life. That kind of sucks, but considering what I put the last one through...trust is such a terrible thing for me. I am working through it; but I'm afraid of hurting anyone else through my own lack of trust. I hate that I can hurt anyone ever. Why isn't it simply not possible?
And I'm still seeing the counsellor. He wants to try a treatment called EMDR...something about distracting our mind away from traumatic events with eye movements or hand movements or something. I'm supposed to make a list of all the traumatic events in my life...even those I don't feel were traumatic...and Wednesday we're going to go over them and decide which is the most show-stopping event.
You know, it's not going to be my father; I can deal with that these days. I don't think it's going to be the rapes, they are just part of the father thing in my head. My ex? Maybe...at least dealing with the confusion he causes. My terrible fear of heights? Could be. He says that one's easy to treat. I'd love to get over it. But most of all...I'd like to be in a position to simply not give a damn about what my mother does or doesn't do.
I think that's going to be the critical one for me at first. I can deal with her not wanting me; hey, I've had lots of years dealing with it already. I can't deal with the fact that she totally ignores my daughter...didn't acknowledge or attend her wedding, doesn't send Christmas or birthday cards, won't accept phone calls from her...it's as if she doesn't exist. And for me, it's enough to make my mother begin ceasing to exist for me.
But, we'll see. I like the man; I hope this treatment works. I don't plan to be seeing him for long. He tells me from the tests I took that I was mildly depressed when I started seeing him. He's wrong. I've been major league depressed for months. So...hope hard for me. I need this to break a few of those really nasty knots loose.
And I'll take all the hugs I can get.
Love to you all....I miss you so very much.
Ari | |
|
1 comment | |
| Tool Gal |
Apr 9, 2007 10:35 pm
1409 Views | Did I tell you I'm planning to remodel my house? Hmmm...well, I am...and it's pretty comprehensive...from new paint to new cabinets, to new tile...all kinds of projects.
Now, any man will tell you, to do these projects, you have to have a great many POWER tools...lol...so now I do. I have a table saw, a router, a pantograph (to carve out the doors of my cupboards), several workbenches, drills, sanders...it's tool heaven here.
Anyone want to come teach me how to use the blasted things? | |
|
3 Comments | |
| Men are strange..... |
Apr 9, 2007 10:12 pm
1401 Views | I work with a number of men who run every day at lunch time. I mean...literally every day...rain, sun, snow...it doesn't seem to matter to them unless it's really icy out.
I do not run. I don't like black eyes. I much prefer my peaceful walks...especially now that it's raining a lot.
Anyway, so the other day, the guys went running. One of them always comes back after half an hour...the others run for at least an hour to an hour and a half each days. So...RS comes back from his run and goes into the men's bathroom.
I'm talking to the Hoopster, one of the managers at the plant, in the reception area. He's a pretty funny man when you get him going...and he gets a kick out of the idea that I made up a nickname for him. I feel bad for the man...lots of people never take the time to get to know him and just don't like him for his gruffness. I've found that kernel of gold underneath it all and I really like him.
We're walking down the hall to the breakroom...right across the hall from the men's bathroom, when RS comes out in his shorts without a shirt. He sees us and stops short. Of course, this is the same man who thinks tickling my back and watching me drop to my knees in giggles is funny. He just stands there with his towel.
Eventually he looks at the Hoopster, looks at me, and says, "Ari-Ari...you know you like seeing us half naked." I couldn't say a word. I was afraid I'd giggle at his retardation. The Hoopster immediately jumps to my defense and says, "Yeah, she likes it so much it makes her want to puke."
Hmmm...so what the heck do you say to that? I just smiled mysteriously and said..."I'll never tell which one of you is right...." | |
|
3 Comments | |
| Slumber Party |
Mar 31, 2007 11:06 pm
1755 Views | I originally posted this on Saturday night, but FF, in it's absurdity, decided it was too mature for all grown up members...so....we'll try again.
It was a VERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY good day Saturday. I really badly want to do something to make the house scream out...I belong to Ari. So, I went to the hardware store and bought paint and some power tools....vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmm...lol...
Anyway...while I was at the store (our hardware store is part of the grocery store), I stopped at the pharmacy and picked up my prescriptions. The clerk there invited me to a slumber party. Do we seem just a little old to be having slumber parties? My horoscope said to take the opportunity to have fun when it's offered so I said....sure...why not?
And voila...I went to a slumber party. Now, it isn't a sleep-over; it's a s.e.x. toy party. Hmmmm...I need lots of them, thanks very much. I wonder if I can remember what to do with them?
Keep in mind that I live in Mormon town...I know they have lots of babies, but they seem rather too straight for naughty toys. I was wrong. I knew a number of the women there and I was very surprised at some of them who showed up. Ms. Ultra-conservative isn't really.
My Lady...the toys they had made me drool...figuratively. They had v.i.b.r.a.t.o.r.s and all the standard toys...and then they had specialty toys. There were a number of toys for men as well; especially one that was made of silicone. I sort of got attached to that one. I wanted to know how it worked so I inserted a finger. We pulled the silicone and...my finger got stuck. lol...I was pretty sure it was going home with me although I can't think what I'd do with it other than excite my poor neglected finger.
There were creams, oils, perfumes, lubricants...it was simply incredible. One of the women there was the wife of a local police officer. She actually tested the n.i.p.p.l.e cream rather publicly...and then kept touching them rather lasciviously...I thought that was embarassing until the next woman pulled her shirt up to show off hers.
What I learned was an even more intense lesson about how playful, naughty, ribald...women can get when the men are away. I'd noticed that before, but this was my first really wild experience....I've never been to this kind of party before.
The comments, the laughter, the out and out naughtiness was just what I needed. The bill I paid when I left wasn't...but who cares? I'm planning to relax one of these days...and now I'm equipped to do so.
So...next time you are invited to a slumber party...jump at the opportunity. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. If you can deal with the naughtiness...it's a great place to be. | |
|
5 Comments | |
| Life Moves On..... |
Mar 31, 2007 6:44 am
2006 Views |  | Sometimes it seems like life changes even faster than we are prepared for. I'm just sitting here thinking through all the changes and my head is spinning with them.
A month ago, I wrote that I wanted to buy this house I live in. Yesterday I closed on it. It's all mine...and the bank's. It moved faster than I ever dreamed possible. Now I am laying it out on a floor plan and landscaping program to plan all the repairs, remodelling, and gardens I want to do to it. One step at a time, little one; but I didn't have quite enough money down so now I have to do enough in upgrades to the house to have 22% equity in it and eliminate the mortgage insurance. I'm already at 15%, and it needs a certain amount of repairs anyway.
It snowed last week, several days, but now we are warming up again slowly. It's almost time to begin rototilling the garden areas and laying them out. Today I will sit down and place my order for the plants I want to add...and start laying out the Friendfinder gardens I want to put in. I'd really love to add a mulberry tree to the back garden so anyone who can send a start...I haven't been able to find that one at any of the greenhouses I've visited.
Performance evaluations are over at work. I don't really feel like I deserved the eval I got, but it meant a good bonus in a poor bonus year, and the bonus paid my closing costs so I can't complain. I have a lot to live up to next year, though. I also found out I'm being considered for a new job. I'd be good at it and I'd love it; it would use the expertise I've built over the past five years, but I can see it raising hell with someone else who thinks they should have it. And...that person would have to report to me if it all goes through.
Sometimes life is interesting. It would give me a chance to stretch and grow a little further, and give this person a chance to learn a lot that would give him future opportunities to grow, because I don't know that I see me being in this job for more than two or three years. Once I get the system built and operating, the job would bore me and I wouldn't be operating at full potential any more.
That's pretty much the way I work best. I walk in and create the job, the systems, the entire program. Once its become routine, I am bored and the company seems to move me to create the next position. I'm very fortunate to have a boss who can understand that in me and use me to do my best work.
I got a call from my sister yesterday. My grandmother, who will be 93 in two days, had a heart attack several days ago. She's home now and doing better, but my mother, in her infinite bitchiness, decided that I didn't need to know, so she called my sister and let her know. My sister decided to wait and see what happened with grandma and waited an additional couple of days to tell me. While I'm tremendously relieved that grandma is feeling better, I am terribly angry that everyone waited so long to tell me. Had it gone badly, I wouldn't have had time to go and see her before I lost her.
My grandmother is my hero in life; the role model I've always tried to live up to; the one person in my family who always loved and accepted me for the person I am, with all my flaws and all my abilities. Many years ago, when I moved in with my ex before we were married, she told me that she disapproved of what I was doing, but she loved me no matter what I did, and it wasn't her place to judge. My mother cut me out of her life for years over it. I've always tried to live up to my grandmother's standards...and to make her proud of me. I've always felt loved and comforted by her wisdom, her caring, her spirit. It's breaking my heart to think I will lose her someday. It feels worse to think that my family would hide that from me.
When my other grandmother died, my mother again refused to tell me. I learned about it just barely before the funeral and had no way to be there. I think I'll make a trip to Seattle soon. I can't lose my little firecracker without at least one more visit with her. I don't know how well I can face losing her. How do we give up the one person who saw us for who we really were...who loved us no matter how we handled life?
My mother still won't speak to me. The last time she talked to me was at Christmas. It was a great and wonderful conversation that lasted hours. I was so optimistic. Silly girl. I have no clue what I've done to offend her...but then, I never do.
I started seeing a counselor to find out why I can't let go of the people who don't give a damn about me. I feel like I hold on to them to keep punishing myself. I need to understand that before I fully move on. He says it's a part of having been a victim of them...and it's a part of the healing to learn to let go. I hope he can help me find that strength inside myself.
Life is good. I'm not sure I feel like I deserve it to be so good, but I'm trying hard to live up to the gifts that have been given. It scares me sometimes; to be given so many opportunities. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I don't keep focusing on it...I just keep moving forward. Onward to the next mountain to conquer.
The picture is of the bushes around part of the back yard. I have the same bushes and trees wrapped around most of the property, with only one side of the yard and house not having them. Over the next two years, I hope to add them to that side as well...primarily in Rose of Sharon as I have said before. This lush green growth surrounding the property was the primary reason I wanted this particular house. It feels distant, a little isolated, my neighbors can't look in my windows...and I don't hear them when they are fighting. It feels fresh and new in spring...and I love to look at this view when I stand on the back porch and do my tai chi.
How have you been? What stars have you reached for? Which ones have you finally touched? I've missed you. I hope everyone is happy and well...and finding their own hidden strengths.
I love you.
Ari |
| |
|
14 Comments | |
| Clarity |
Mar 21, 2007 9:44 pm
2520 Views | The other day I posted about feeling trapped; trying to decide when it was ok to make choices that were for me rather than for everyone else...to make me happy. I just wanted to clarify a little bit about that post.
My ex and I have an agreement that he has to be out of my house by June 1st. I know he's afraid; it's not easy to live on a very limited income; but I really want to move on with my life. Things between us will never change and I'm tired of feeling like I'm responsible for him getting along. Besides, maybe I think his room would make a great study or guest room or something.
Anyway...a few weeks ago he started having rather serious pain in his back and they did an MRI on him. He already has two disks fused in his lower back...now there are two more gone...and a nerve pinched. So, he's in a lot of pain and the chances are really good that he will need additional surgery...although I hope the doctor will avoid it in light of all the scar tissue that is already wrapped around his spine.
So...the reason I've been feeling really lost and trapped is that I have been through the surgeries with him before. I know that a fusion requires three to four weeks in a hospital bed and with extremely limited...albeit increasing...walking with a walker.
How do I tell him he has to move out if this happens? How do you put someone in a position where they absolutely can't take care of themselves? How do you make yourself more important than their safety?
I haven't quite decided what I'm doing yet...but it looks like the doctor wants to avoid surgery if possible. If that's the case, I have to move forward with my plans...and I have to set myself free while I can. If not...I have to reconsider.
In the end...I have to be able to live with my decision. | |
|
14 Comments | |
| Singing Out Loud |
Mar 20, 2007 10:52 pm
2532 Views | This is the song I most want to play....constantly...on surround sound...all through my house...lol...hmmm, lol...
Hunter...by Dido
With one light on
In one room
I know you're up
When I get home
With one small step
Upon the stair
I know your look
When I get there
If you were a king
Up there on your throne
Would you be wise enough to let me go
For this queen you think you own
Wants to be a hunter again
I want to see the world alone again
To take a chance on life again
So let me go...
The unread book
And painful look
The TV's on
The sound is down
With one long pause
Then you begin
Oh look what
The cat's brought in
If you were a king
Up there on your throne
Would you be wise enough to let me go
For this queen you think you own
Wants to be a hunter again
I want to see the world alone again
To take a chance on life again
So let me go
Let me leave
For the crown you've placed upon my head
Feels too heavy now
And I don't know what to say to you
But I'll smile anyhow
And all the time I'm thinking
Thinking...
I want to be a hunter again
I want to see the world alone again
To take a chance on life again
So let me go | |
|
8 Comments | |
| To link to this blog (Ari_fairy) use [blog Ari_fairy] in your messages. |
|
|
|
|
| Sun |
Mon |
Tue |
Wed |
Thu |
Fri |
Sat |
| |
|
|
|
|
1
|
21
|
|
31
|
41
|
5
|
61
|
71
|
8
|
9
|
10
|
11
|
12
|
13
|
14
|
15
|
16
|
17
|
181
|
19
|
20
|
21
|
22
|
23
|
24
|
25
|
26
|
27
|
28
|
29
|
30
|
31
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
