It Has A Certain Ring To It…

I’ve been slightly obsessed with – rings – lately, & I don’t know why.

You see, I’ve never really been much of a jewelry person. Oh, I’ve always had a couple of pieces that I wear, ones that I rarely take off, like my pentacle necklace (representing my faith), & some tiny gold hoops that sit in the top cartilage of my left ear (pierced by my best friend shortly after high school).

And each piece of jewelry that I wear usually has a story behind it, a personal meaning for me, that is the reason it gets worn.

So, what’s the story behind my recent need to wear more & different rings? 

Not a clue. Really, it’s odd.

But, here’s a brief description of what I’m wearing on my hands right now, & what they each mean. (In no particular order of importance to me)

First up – Right hand:

Thumb – A sterling silver pentacle ring. Again, representative of my faith, & a daily reminder to myself to balance the elements of my life.

Index finger- triple fidget ring. This ring represents my kids to me. I have 3, & a lot of times, they make me fidgety.😜

Ring finger- sterling silver ring with oval amber stone. This stone for me represents healing & preservation of memories. 

Left Hand-

Thumb- electroplated sterling with cz & opal inlay stones. This ring I purchased through an introvert group page, and to me, it’s just really pretty & subtle, while having some “spark” to it. I love the blue-green tones of the opal.

Pinky – This has 2 rings. The first is a simple band of hematite, which is a protective stone that “bounces” outside negativity away from me. I have a tendency to pick up easily & take on other people’s emotional states if I’m not careful, so this is a necessary accessory for me.

The 2nd ring is a gold band with 7 white sapphires. This is extremely sentimentally important to me, as it was my sister, Midnite’s ring before she passed away in 2009. My beloved Nephew gave it to me after her passing, & I wear it in her honor.

Ring finger – sterling silver 2-strand braided band. No, I’m not married. This ring I specifically bought for myself. It reminds me that I am truly the only person I can always count on to take care of ME, and that I need to remember to rely on myself, have faith in myself & trust that I will always get through the tough times.

I’ve been let down, abandoned, hurt, mentally, physically, & sexually abused in my past. I’ve made it through everything. Yes, I have friends & family who’ve helped me in the past with dealing with some of those situations, but the one, constant thing in my life has always been – ME, obviously.

This ring is my reminder to never again put all my faith in someone else, or try to rely on believing that others will be there…because too many times, they haven’t been. It’s my “Stand tall on your own two” ring.

There are other rings I have, that I wear occasionally, but these are the semipermanent ones for now. This is the story I wear on my hands at the moment, & whether there’s anyone out there who sees these rings & “gets” this story – I know it. I’m living it. And this is my current expression of it.

Doubt

#daily-prompt

There are many things in my life that I am certain of. 

*My children all love me, & I them. Same with my parents. 

*My Nephew is one of my dearest & best friends, & over the last few years, we’ve gotten so in synch, that often we can tell before picking up the phone, that the other one needs a call. 

*my cats are assholes, but I love them anyway. Same goes for the ferret.

*I will do whatever it takes when it comes to a loved one in need.

*men in my life will disappear without a trace.

Which leads to my doubt.

There is serious doubt in my heart that I will ever find a man who will decide that I’m worth committing to, and if he says he’ll commit, that he’ll actually live up to that promise.

There is doubt that I’ll ever be a part of a “we/us” dynamic ever again. 

There is doubt that love will ever really happen for me again.

Broken promises, fear of commitment, fear of even catching feelings… They all fall into the “doubt” trap. 

And I doubt that I’ll ever be able to truly trust any man, ever again, because of it.

I don’t really let anyone “in” anymore. Not to the emotions.

Because it hurts too much when that doubt rears its ugly head & tells me they’re about ready to bolt.

When asked how I’m doing, I usually answer – “I’m fine.”

Because that’s what they want to hear.

Whether it’s the truth or not, doesn’t matter, it’s the veneer, the semblance of normalcy, that matters.

I doubt that the full truth would change anything, so why bother? It would probably send him screaming for the exit, anyway.

So, I doubt this’ll change anytime soon.

The Newest Little Monkey

Ok, so I’m a little behind with this post, but it’s not my fault.

Honest.

I have a new grandson.

Everybody say hi to Maxwell!

His Mama (EldestDaughter) calls him “Monkey”, because she says he gets this little wrinkle in his forehead when he’s thinking really hard, or confused, or working on his next magnum opus, that makes him look like a baby monkey.

He was born 2/12/2017 in Washington state, where ED is now living with her SO & Schnicklefritz.

And I didn’t get to be there.

*sniffle*

But, he’s healthy, happy, & adjusting to life on the outside, according to all accounts, which is all I can ask for.

I DO get to see them all when they’ll come home for OnlySon’s graduation in May.

*BIG YAY & high five!*

So, for now, I have to survive without baby snuggles & will live vicariously through texted pictures & a recently set up weekly Skype date.

And, I’ll have to revamp my ABCs I wrote when Schnicklefritz was born, & tailor some much-needed “Gramma wisdom” for this newest addition to the zoo.

*I feel a challenge coming on*

For now, here’s some pictures I’ve wheedled out of my daughter!

Who is this person holding me? A brother, you say? Ok, I’ll start working on my “little brother pestering” skill set now.

Here’s this “big brother” person again… Are you sure he needed to follow us home, Mom?  Well, at least he seems to like me somewhat, so maybe this could work.

You know, I’m not too sure about this whole “being outside” thing, Mom & Dad…couldn’t I have just stayed where I was? I was kinda comfy there.

No snark…just awwwwwwwwwe…

*sniffle* 

I wanna snuggle him!

Translate Me

There’s a code,

Written into the pieces of me

Mysterious and complex

It speaks in forms unknown

Turning this on, turning that off

Flipping genetic switches at seeming random

Lighting fires within, only to douse them later, with no explanation or apology

It’s a book, 50, 100, 1 million volumes thick, written in a language I cannot read

My own body and mind, a saga I cannot comprehend without another’s key.

“The Divine Mystery” some may call it, as they turn away from the puzzle to things they can digest. The depth and breadth of the conundrum too much for them to contemplate, they have no further wish to attempt the struggle.

But for me, I wish to delve deeper, to try to understand the whys and wherefores, the hows and whats of Me.

I seek, not only to understand for my own self, but to translate – to gain understanding, the internal “ah-hah!” from others. To see the light go on when they understand that I am the way I am because…THIS. And THAT. And THESE.

Logic and science dance seductively with emotion and faith, all swirling in their patterns together, intertwining in hypnotic rythmns, only to break violently & inexplicably from each other for no apparent reason. Then, quietly meeting again in the middle of the dance floor, to touch hands & make apologies, while agreeing to disagree.

Where does the dance begin? How does it end? And what is the meaning of that complicated bobble of steps in the middle? These are things I seek, words I reach for.

But first, I must decode my skin, my organs, my brain. I must Translate Me.

And that…might take a minute.

*written in response to the Daily Prompt*

Some Days I Want To Die

Because somedays I don’t see the point of being here, anymore, and my brain lies to me and tells me that- I’m really not making a difference in any way, and that, while my family (chosen family included) would miss me, sure, they’d learn to live with it, & it’s not like I really make a difference there, either.

Yes, I know these are lies my brain tells me when I’m depressed. And I’d never suicide, because I know how horrible that is for those left behind, but the depression still holds me down, head under water, emotionally, until I feel as though one long nap would be the end of it, & it could be peaceful & less noisy, & very little mess. 

It’s the same as the lies my brain tells me when it fills me with anxiety about anything and everything it can dredge up out of the depths of my id. 
Don’t go out, something will happen, & you’ll end up embarrassed, or hurt, or made fun of, & then you’ll just want to curl up & cry. Stay home where nothing can hurt you.  This kind of thing never ends well for you, anyway.

Oh, and remember that thing you said to that person? How stupid was that? You would’ve done much better to say…this. Or to just keep your stupid mouth shut, cause then stupid wouldn’t fall out of it.

And did you hear what that woman at work said to you today? Oh, you thought it was a nice compliment? Really? Did you really hear what she said & the look on her face & the tone of her voice & how she was talking to one of the other women later & just…stopped…talking when you walked by? Yeah…let’s discuss this some more, shall we?

And remember that thing you did 5 years ago? Let’s dissect that into all its tiniest meanings over the next 7 hours while you’re pretending to sleep. Oh? You weren’t pretending, you were actually trying to sleep? Well…not anymore. Good morning, Sunshine!

Oh, there’s a man interested in you? You know he only wants one thing, right? And you’re not getting any younger, so forget about getting that “happily ever after”, cause they all leave, eventually. Why would they possibly want to stay with you? An aging, anxious, depressed, overweight, grandmother. Yeah, there’s the brass ring. Take what they give you, because that’s all there is anymore, Chickie. You aren’t going to get what you want.

And the ride never ends, with subject after subject being over-analyzed & subjected to the highest-powered microscope possible.

So, yes, some days I want to die.

And some days I feel as though I’m just a passenger in my own skin, & I watch the automaton doing the work thing, & the talking to other people thing, & the taking care of the animals thing, & I marvel at the wonders of modern science that could create such a life-like robot that can carry passengers who watch the day go by out through the eye-windows.

And I’m glad on those days that I could just lie back & let the robot do it all, because the depression had me under water again, & the anxiety told me that if I struggled, I’d snap my own neck for sure and then where would I be?

And some days, there’s just no up…only sideways…and it’s all I can do to hang onto the cliff’s edge with my nonexistent fingernails, & shift to the left, digging for another foothold.

So, some days, I dye.

Yes, black hair.

It was time to go dark.

After all, it’s been pretty dark on the inside lately. Time to let it out.

The Slow Regard of Silent Things

I just finished reading this book. The one that titles this post, by Patrick Rothfuss.

It’s a small slice of one character, a small, side character in other books he’s written, which starts with The Name of the Wind. 
Auri, the character in this story, is sweet, quiet, & broken. She hides from the world around her, flitting through shadowed places, & doing things in a way that make no sense to the “normal” world, but are totally true to herself & her perception of the world.

It reminds me a lot of Mr. God, This Is Anna, another slow, sweet, broken story about a lost girl who knows who she is, but has trouble fitting into society.

Both of these stories ring a true bell inside my heart, for different reasons, but mostly for the fact that, while these girls are completely & utterly true to their own natures, they are forever outsiders in their world at large. Each deals with this disconnect in their own way. One retreats into a quiet, safe (for her) existence, interacting only briefly & enigmatically with a chosen few… While the other is open & extroverted in her attempts to get others to understand where she is speaking from.
And I, I have found myself sliding from the extroverted “Anna” to the introverted “Auri”, retreating further & further, making fewer attempts to explain, or to try to at least get others to accept, my differences.

I’ve found that, most others either simply don’t care enough to try to understand, or fear the explanation, and what it might mean for their perceptions.  
It does no good to try to wring water from a stone… The best you can hope for, is that someday, lightning will strike, splitting a crack in the stone, & let the water trickle through.

Until then, I will keep my innermost thoughts relegated to the few who grace my closest circle, & this blog, if I feel like sharing.
Auri, I understand your yearning to stay in the Underthing, for us broken souls must stay in our true and proper place.