How long do I tend the nest for a child who has already flown?
Here I sit, feeling like the worst mother in the world, right now. Tears pooling in my eyes as I type this, because I told OnlySon that I am planning on leaving North Dakota in a year, and he’s angry, albeit trying not to show it.
He wants everything to remain the same forever, but that can’t happen. Life stagnates if left to sit too long with no forward motion.
And I have been sitting still for many years now, waiting for something to change.
I’m not happy here, anymore.
Too many heartaches and heartbreaks.
Not enough reasons to look forward to getting out of bed every morning.
So, why should I stay?
For a son who has moved in with his father & is now going to be starting a new life of his own, getting a job, being busy with that & dropping by when he needs a shower or to pick up something else I’m storing in my basement or his bedroom?
For a job, which, yes, I enjoy my work – but, let’s face facts, isn’t a life?
Let’s see… Hmm…
What else does North Dakota have to offer me?
Two ex- husbands, one within city limits, and the other an hour away… No, that’s OK.
No one has been able to come up with a compelling, or even logical, reason why I should stay beyond my timeline.
I can’t live for my children’s benefit forever. There comes a time when they have to spread their own wings and leave the nest.
This is the way of life.
Why should I stay?
Tell me. When I feel as though there’s nothing left here for me…
Something seriously wrong happens to you when your soul separates into more than one piece.
Being a Gemini… This is a familiar, and uncomfortable, feeling for me.
I get too attached to the wrong people, sometimes.
I…have a tendency to let people into my life quickly, if they show me affection & appeal to my caretaker side. I’m a sucker for someone who needs a little TLC, and who doesn’t appreciate being taken care of every once in a while?
I have a soft spot for strays & those with sad eyes…the ones who have been hurt in the past, or are hurting now, and I want to jump in and bandage, comfort and fix.
But – that’s not always a good place for me to invest my emotions.
Because, once they’ve had their fill of coddling & cookies, they get up & walk away without a backward glance. Much like being discharged from the hospital, and not giving the nurses another thought once you’ve left the building.
Except, this nurse…thought there was a relationship there, and, much to her dismay, was quickly disabused of that notion when she was forgotten along with the rest.
Yeah, I was talking to someone. The Dragon, from my past, who I had come back into contact with around New Year’s, &… I thought we had at least rekindled a friendship, becoming pen pals, at least. For the last 5 years, I’ve held this man in such high regard that I’ve made him a member of my Chosen Family, which appellation only goes to a very select and small number.
Namely him and one other, the Beloved Nephew.
There is no romantic relationship with this man, but he has had a huge impact on my life, even though he refuses to see it.
And, for some reason, he seems to be afraid of this relationship, which baffles me, because I’ve never asked him for anything other than conversation, honesty, & friendship. That’s it.
And it truly, deeply, hurts, that he seems to have disappeared again…
Leaving a portion of my soul, the piece that attached itself to him, as friend and family, floating, lost out there…aimless and alone.
How many separations can the soul survive… Before it gives up completely?
Or before it ices over?
I need to fix this.
And I believe the only way now…
Is to reunite with my soul-companion.
Soul-Companions are not romantic soul mates. They are those people who come into your life – friend, family member – who just – so completely get you that there are no words necessary. They understand…everything…
They don’t always agree with you, but they understand.
You can, and usually do, tell them everything…down to the nitty gritty, the good, bad & ugly. They’ve seen you laugh till you weep, and they’ve held you as you cry till you collapse. They’ve talked you off the emotional ledges, and you’ve done the same for them, bringing the ice cream & booze for the pity parties. You’ve each laced up your “bitch boots” to stomp the crap out of someone who’s hurt your soul-companion, & you’d bring the shovel to bury the evidence without being asked.
There is an almost psychic bond between soul companions that is impossible to break. Beloved Nephew & I often say we live inside each other’s heads more often than not.
He’ll call me, out of the blue, because he feels like he needs to… And it’ll be exactly what I need, because I’ve had a rough day.
Or, I’ll text him something I’ve found online, because I know it’s something he needs, & he texts me back saying “How’d you KNOW I needed that RIGHT NOW!?!”
He moved down South to be near his family, while I’m still in the far North… And it hasn’t been easy being away from him.
Not just because we have fun hanging out together.
But because… He just gets it.
And I understand him.
And, I know… For the both of us, because we’ve discussed this, our souls need each other to heal, to grow & to find our next steps.
As family and as friends, and as Soul-Companions.
My timeline is set.
I have a goal.
I am moving forward.
And the stray gets put to the side of the road once again on the journey of life…
I’m used to it now.
The pain of being left behind…
The confusion as they leave, with no explanation, no thought of anyone else’s feelings, & just a merry wave…because, hey… She’s resilient… She’ll bounce right back & find someone else.
They think that because they don’t see the brokenness that follows… The destruction of self I never allow anyone to see.
All they see is the mask & the automaton that goes through the daily motions, existing until I can rebuild from within, slowly, excruciatingly, piece by piece.
The only one who never left me…is the one I had to push away, because he was a toxic liar & chronic breaker of promises. And, is still stalking me to this day.
Something seriously wrong with this picture.
And DON’T tell me “Well, maybe you just need some time alone”.
I’ve been alone for 6 years, considering how many times I’ve been dumped, ghosted, benched & dusted.
But, I’m fine. Just tired…
This is a difficult post to begin, so I’m just going to dive right into the middle, and work my way out to the edges from there.
The Morrigan works from the gut, most of the time, anyway. She is instinct & courage. Passion and fire and fury.
I’m learning to listen, here, to what She has to say, because I’m in the middle of a battle…and I need all the help I can get right now.
And being told that my emotions, at least the “darker” ones, need to be abandoned, given up, let go…
I used to repress my emotions.
I used to tamp them down, pushing them into smaller & smaller spaces, because they were deemed “unacceptable”, “socially abnormal” and just plain “dark, morbid, negative & wrong”.
Until, of course, I’d explode, sending my anger, darkness, whatever you want to call it, by this time magnified exponentially, onto whomever was closest to me at the time, whether they deserved it or not.
I was Vesuvius.
I was Krakatoa.
I was Pele.
I was fire and ash and death, burning the air, scorching oxygen from others’ lungs and melting the ground out from under their stance.
And, when I was finished, I would feel horrible over the destruction I’d caused, but would have no idea how to fix it, so would run away…leaving the wreckage behind.
So, I grew up.
Learned how to express myself better, with more clarity. (For the most part) Yes, sometimes I still fall down the verbal well when it comes to expressing my feelings to someone, especially someone who knows me from my past, because they have access to those emotional buttons (triggers) that caused me to go off “back then”.
Started blogging, which really does help me figure out my emotions, & how to verbalize them.
But, back to the darkness.
I…am not a sunshiney kind of person. I’m not a hippie, or a bohemian. I’m not a cheerleader or perky pixie type. (Factoid -I tried my hand at cheerleading in high school, but even to this day, people don’t believe me, & need photographic proof)
If I weren’t almost 47 years old, I’d say I was closer to a Goth or Emo kid, or at least on that end of the spectrum, because of the way I think, speak, act, dress, blah, blah.
Hell, I’ve said it before, in relation to my poetry… “I was Emo before it was a style”.
I wear black, pretty much all the time.
Not because it’s slimming, but because it helps me blend in to shadows better, and, as I’ve said before “It goes better with my soul”.
I laugh at morbid jokes.
I don’t get scared watching “scary” movies, but instead critique the special effects techniques, laugh at the stupid dialogue, & make fun of the plot choices.
I prefer to sit in the dark, rather than turn on a light.
I sit up late at night, and hate early mornings.
I detest early morning chatter at work, and do everything I can to avoid it.
I need my dark side.
You cannot see and know the light unless you sit first and accept the darkness.
Morrigan came to me at this time of my life for a reason.
She knows I need my darkness.
She is the Queen there, & can help me navigate my way far better than some of the lighter Goddesses.
This is not going to be an easy battle.
My darkness is the only thing holding me together right now.
Today is not a good day.
I woke up with a migraine- breath-stealing, nausea roiling, light/sound/smell/touch-sensitive; and all I wanted to do was take my meds & sleep it off. Stress has been high lately, & I’ve had more migraines in the last few months than is normal. I can’t afford some of the meds they want me to try, so I have to deal with them by smothering the pain in sleep. The doctor doesn’t understand… It doesn’t matter if a drug might help me, if I can’t afford it. It’s not even a guarantee of pain relief, just a chance. A maybe.
I don’t make enough to throw utility money at a Maybe.
Then, I get a call from my regular doctor’s office.
I have osteo arthritis in my hands, diagnosed by a rheumatologist. Most of the time, my hands, mainly my finger joints, feel as though they are full of broken glass, grating & grinding on itself, just under the skin. Occasionally, when there’s pressure put on those joints, the glass sets itself on fire, just for that extra-special kick.
He told me he couldn’t do anything else, as far as treating the pain long-term went, that I had to go to the Pain Clinic for that. I was to call my regular doc & have her send a referral to the Pain Clinic for me.
They sent a note back to her this morning saying they won’t see me.
Regular doc says I have to call rheumatology doc back, to see what my other options are.
So, basically, the health care system here is telling me they want someone else to deal with it. No one is willing to actually sit down, LISTEN to me, & help figure out a solution. I don’t know if they don’t believe me about the pain, because no one is actually talking to, or listening to, me. They’re all looking at xrays & blood tests, thinking that tells the whole story.
I’m not a hypochondriac looking for attention. I’m someone who’s been through a lot of medical crap in her life, & because of that, has built up tolerances to certain pain meds.
I don’t like taking pills. I don’t want to feel stupid & slow at work, & I don’t like the loss of control the drugs make me feel. I’m a control freak when it comes to my own body. I’m in charge, & I hate not feeling like I can say what happens with it.
In 2001, I finally had surgery that fixed a problem with one of my kidneys – that took 5 years & every test known to man & his dog to figure out. 5 years of flaring, excruciating pain, without a diagnosis to even give me a sense of reason.
In just the past 3 years, I’ve had to deal with having my gall bladder removed due to gall stones & severe pain caused by inflammation.
I’ve had endometriosis, adenomyosis, & an ovarian cyst, which ended up with me having a hysterectomy. Following my surgery, my surgeon said he couldn’t figure out how I’d been walking upright, much less how I’d gotten into the hospital on my own two legs, due to the extensive pain the numerous occlusions of endo & adeno would have caused.
And now, the arthritis diagnosis.
I know pain.
I know how it steals your breath, messes with your senses, & turns your world into a small, very self-focused, & seemingly selfish, place.
I know that other people can’t feel my pain, they don’t understand that – even picking up files, taking a cap off a water bottle, using a pliers to take apart rivets & staples (part of my job, taking apart books held together by these things) – all these things cause my hands to flare, & tears to spring to my eyes because of it.
I gave birth to all 3 of my children naturally, without any drugs to aid the process, & ended up in shock due to blood loss during one of the deliveries.
I know pain. Don’t tell me I’m not perfectly aware of what my body is telling me.
I just want to be able to go to work & live my life without being either half-stoned on pain meds, or in constant, grinding pain.
Where do I turn now?
While I sit here with my hands full of glass, my head pounding, & my chest full of anxiety, depression & hopelessness.
What do you do when all the doctors, the “professionals” tell you that you’re not worth their time…..