Monthly Archives: March 2012
For the most part, my blogging has helped me. It has been a place to vent and analyze my thoughts and feelings. It has been a much-needed exercise in writing. It has allowed me to share a painful experience as well as the more joyous sides to life. I have received many amazing and thoughtful comments as well as great advice on how to continue my journey. I have been so grateful to hear that other people have experienced the same things or that they felt empowered reading some of my posts. So with all the positivity that has been generously given, why can one person’s rude and negative comments negate it?
From day one, there has been one person, who continues to leave hurtful and sarcastic comments. He uses a fake email so that I can not respond and he has personally attacked me several times. He has said things that at times had me almost to the point of taking the entire thing down. And I sit and wonder does anyone else experience this? I have never left a negative comment of any kind on anyone’s blog because I think it is unneccessary and if I do not enjoy the content of their blog, I simply do not continue reading it. But this individual drops in every once in a while reads something and then berates me.
I suppose I should have expected this sort of thing and prepared for it but every time it feels as if I have been sucker punched. The main thing that saddens me is that this happens all the time in life and people such as myself, perfectionists, are incredibly susceptible to it. We can have a million people tells us that we are great and talented and it only takes one person to destroy all of it. I recently had a writer for the NY Times tell me that he thought I was quite talented and that he wanted me to start working on a project so that he could take it to his editors and his agent. He read my entire blog in a couple of hours and said that he really enjoyed it, which I was more than flattered about. I was so excited and humbled by his comments and felt a great sense of accomplishment. But after reading this latest criticism from this anonymous individual I am left questioning myself again.
Why do we let people cause us such harm while they hide behind a computer screen? Why am I so bothered by what one person has to say about me? Why does this person invest any time at all in trying to harm me? I will never understand people’s need to belittle and judge others, it seems so contrary to what we are all trying to do. But I suppose this is what I should expect to deal with and hopefully by continuing to stay true to myself, I will not let this person win.
After an exhausting weekend, full of adventure and oddity, I am left pondering. Do people who are totally full of shit know it? Are they intentionally and willingly fraudulent or are they so self unaware that it is accidental?
Example: Saturday night I went out with a guy that was extremely interested in me some years ago and that was hurt by the fact that I would not leave my then boyfriend to be with him, well that turned out to be a waste of loyalty but that is beside the point. This guy, lets call him J, was there for me after the break up and really helped to take care of me during the hardest parts which I thought was admirable and kind but then disappeared for many months. He called me this weekend to ask me to meet him and some of his friends at the bar where we actually had met, as I had a gap in my schedule for that evening, I complied. I had little to no expectations as I have found that having them only leads to disappointment anyway and thought that it would simply be nice to catch up and see how he had been doing other than the lame FB posts that I had seen. When I arrived he was clearly happy to see me and kindly told me how beautiful I looked and commented on my physique which I had been working rather tirelessly on and I excitedly thanked him. We sat down at the table with all of his friends and began chatting, all pretty standard. Not even 20 minutes into the evening, he changed his body language to directly face me and grabbed my hand in his. He then proceeded to tell me that he loved me and that he always had. He continued to say that he had disappeared because he was afraid that if we had begun seeing each other that it would be more of a rebound for me and that he could not chance his heart on something he thought to be short-lived. He also expressed concern that should William ever return that I would be drawn to getting back together with him. I assured him that William would never again be any part of my life for any reason and that should he return which was highly doubtful anyway that he would be met with nothing but disdain and disappointment. At this point he asked me if I wanted to give being with him a shot, that after all he had loved me for years now and that finally he felt as if we were both in a position to be together and have it be successful. Now for anyone that knows me really well, I am usually quite moved by expressions of emotion and am a bit susceptible to being persuaded by them as well but after all that I have endured recently it has become much more difficult. It is not that I out right did not believe him or felt as he was manipulating me, it was just a matter of do his words and his actions directly match up? I can say from what I have observed over the past few days that they do not. So the question remains, did he mean all the things that he said or was it all just BS to try to accomplish some self-serving goal? And if it was BS did he even realize he was doing it?
Example #2: The dreaded bastard ex. If I could credit any one human being for completely destroying any faith I had in humanity and for eliminating any trust I have that people are what they say they are, its him. Forget that this person told me over and over again how much they loved me and that I was the one for him and then brutally left me in possibly the worst of scenarios. Forget that apparently this person lied to everyone involved in the situation so that his cowardice would be tolerated. Hell even forget that he waffled back and forth between telling me that he “had been with more attractive women than me,” and telling me how gorgeous I was. Forgetting all that because it is in the past and holds little to no meaning for me anymore, there is still the present fraudulence which he continuously spews forth from a laptop in Asia. In reference to society’s obsession with FB he writes things like:
In fact, in the 21st century it is more natural to be laid bare and completely open in your yearning for approval and recognition than it would be to hide your feelings. We are gregarious, we are desirous of living an examined life for Plato said that anything less than that is not worth living. We use introspection balanced with external comments to search our emotional responses to the world. To be honest with yourself in the age of reality shows and celeb-worship is to know that you would probably take, if not relish for some time, the constant scrutiny and phony devotion of being the one in the camera’s flash instead of the one pushing the button. The world is changing again, as it always will. The exaggeration of daily life, and the magnification of minutiae is thrust into our faces like mall perfume samples. I wonder if the rise in depression is due to people feeling unworthy of living because they aren’t being photographed or pulled aside for interviews. Do we feel unimportant because only our family and friends care about us, as opposed to strangers worshipping us through the magazine pages or the Hollywood blockbusters? Even as I write this, I do wonder who will read it, who will appreciate it. We want to feel alive and needed, we want to leave our mark upon this world.
Or in reference to the duality of life and all the myriad of amazing philosophical epiphanies he has had:
Last week at the the Buddhist temple of heaven and earth, I felt the feeling I’ve felt for a long time now, but saw it manifested before me. Namely, that what we call right and wrong are constructs of our society. There is, has been and always will be only what is done and not done. If you see evil happening and do nothing, that’s what you do—in your non-action lies your action. If you hurt someone, you did it. If you help someone, you did it. It is the existential power we all possess and gives meaning to every single choice we can ever make. You can choose with each step of your life, positive or negative behaviors. What is right for one is wrong for another. Christianity and Islam are not right or wrong, one is right for one group of people, and therefore the other appears wrong. Murder, rape, theft et al. are unequivocally wrong, because it takes the choice away from the other person, but it is done. The thief wants money, takes it, it is right for him, but wrong to the person from whom he stole. The laws of regulation are necessary in a functioning society, but within those boundaries, you can find your own philosophy of right action.
Or perhaps my personal favorite when describing a beautifully debauched Wednesday:
We talked about why I wasn’t married, how the kindergarten teachers were attractive but hard to talk to, how he was wearing a special tie today with lots of glitter because the parents would all be present today for the kindy graduation. The one who spoke the most English, and was the most pleasant was my Korean co-teacher’s uncle and never seemed that nice before. He was charming. He was so interested in talking to me. I ate my dinner, they paid and I thought they were walking me home. It turned out, we were headed for a second place to talk and drink soju. I told them I had to go home. Here I am writing this, getting drunker the more I write, as the drink keeps hitting more of my body. It’s the Hemingway kind of drunk, where things still seem new and exciting. It’s not the kind of Bukowski drunk where you just finished hitting your wife, and you’re feeling guilty so you drink kind of drunk. I really would have loved to hear more stories, but I know the drunker you get the worse your foreign language gets but the more accessible it is to your mouth. It’s like you have more words, but less grammar, making for a terribly incoherent but verbose rant about nothing. It was a good Wednesday.
It is so funny, many months ago I would have been bothered by these things, even upset by them but now I just find them humorous and fascinating even if a bit sad. Because you see he is the epitome of what I am questioning because I wonder if he is aware of just how ridiculous these things sound coming from him, this person that enlisted my help for this “drinking problem” but then brags and relishes his debauchery. Hemingway drunk? Really? This person that philosophizes right and wrong, action and inaction as if he comprehends any of that. Unequivocally wrong? You mean like leaving your girlfriend of 3.5 yrs pregnant and disappearing to a foreign country? It is simply bewildering how this person can say these things having done what they have done and with such ease. And again the question remains, do people who are so obviously full of shit, know it? Or have they created their own reality in their minds that enables them to act so hypocritically and yet believe everything that they think and say is true? The deeper question is in today’s society is it easier for these people to get away with this kind of behaviour? It is very interesting to me from a psychological stand point and I wonder if there will ever be a time when this technological advancement allows for individuals like this to be “called out” as it were instead of them being able to use it towards their own shameless self promotion. What has happened to us? Why are we all so much more concerned with how things appear versus what they really are? Are we all so ashamed of who we are and what we have done that we construct this amazing facade of a human being and use misdirection to alleviate our own self-loathing? Why not just direct all that time and energy towards living an honorable and truthful existence? I would rather have someone love me, knowing everything that I have done good, bad and otherwise than have someone fall in love with the mask. But I still wonder, are these people doing all this intentionally or are they really so lost in their own heads?
Today I am thankful for my ex and all the lessons he has taught me. I am thankful that I am more scrutinizing and less gullible. I am thankful that he demonstrated the age-old adage that actions do in fact speak louder than words and that through this experience, I truly believe that I will never have to suffer the same pain again because I will pay much more attention to the man behind the curtain. So really as much as I have fought it, today I can honestly say, he did me a favor. And with that comes a sense of peace and completion. Sigh.
I awoke to the darkness of the morning moon
and my first thoughts were not of you
Beautiful apathetic amnesia
soothes my soul and has removed your heinous sore
Each day I grow stronger
Each day I am farther
Each day you fade away
In this suffering that is life
many options are apparent
but only one resides in truth and love
enlightenment originates in struggle
Each day I am learning
Each day I am creating
Each day I am released from your destruction
I rest my head tonight listening to the sound of stars
my body exhausted from training
my mind fatigued by inquiring
and my soul challenged by searching
I was suddenly awakened by a clamoring in my living room, I heard several voices in deep discussion, the subject eluded me though. I leaned across the bed and grabbed my mobile to check the time, 4:30am. A sudden panic rushed over me. Who were these people and why were they in my house at 4:30 in the morning? I quickly slid the black case from underneath my night stand and opened it to reveal my personal protection, a Springfield 45. I was totally unsure as to what I was about to do, adrenaline had flooded my synapses. I had to do something. With no forethought, I opened the door from the hallway that lead into the living room, holding the jet black weapon in hand as if I was on a military raid. The scene was far more shocking than I could have imagined.
Women. Women were everywhere They were mostly older looking women. They had dispersed themselves throughout the house but were mostly socializing in my kitchen and den. As I glanced around, I noticed that they all had the same look on their faces. They appeared both severe yet supportive. As I walked into the crowd, one women gently pushed my arms down and away from harm. She said,”Oh honey, you will not be needing that.” The sincerity with which she spoke immediately put me at ease and yet the oddness of everything remained. I asked,”Who are you and why are you here?” Suddenly all conversation ceased and all the women looked at me. I felt a wave of embarrassment as if I was being scolded for talking in the library. She grasped my hand and looked at me very lovingly as if I was her grandchild and replied,”We are here for you, my child.”
The women now surrounded me in somewhat circular fashion. Normally. this would be alarming but again I felt as if they were there to take care of me. Another women walked through the den and into the living room where I was standing. She looked very familiar but I could not place her. She walked straight towards me and asked,” Do you know who I am?” I said,”Sorry I do not, but you look so familiar.” She embraced me quickly and said,”I took the form of someone you know so that you would feel more comfortable.” Although her intention was to comfort me, this statement left me frightened and confused. My eyes surveyed my surroundings again and I looked at the woman and again asked,”Who are you?”
Before the woman could answer, I realized that there was something not right about the scene in the den. Something was afoot and so I slowly walked toward it, the women all stepping back out-of-the-way as I reached them. And there it was, the reason for which the women were there and the source of all my anxiety. It was me. I was laying on a beautiful assortment of fabric, my eyes were closed and I was not moving. There were women kneeling all around me and whispering almost in prayer. A hand touched my arm and it was the woman I had been talking to before. She said to me,”We are your guides and we are here to help you.” Despite the supportive tone and energy of the room, I began to fall apart. Help me what? I could only assume I was dying and they were there to help me with the transition. But I did not want to die, I was not ready to die. My God, I was only 30 years old! I grabbed the women by her both arms and vigorously pleaded,”No, I am not ready. What is wrong with me? Why am I dying?”
Everything that was said next seemed to seep into my subconscious more so through osmosis than actual conversation. I gleaned that I was dying from cancer but that it was a cancer of the soul rather than the body. That over the course of my life, all the traumatic experiences had caused parts of me to mutate and surrender to death rather than thirst for life. I was dying from a lack of will. I watched myself for a moment on the colorful pallet where they had placed me. My chest was barely rising and falling and with each breath becoming weaker. I turned to the woman again and told her that I did not want to die. The supportive aspect of her face changed to the severity I had noticed earlier and she said to me,”Then this is your chance. And it is your last one. You must choose to live and really live. We will only help you if you understand that. We know what you have been through and we are sorry for that but you can not give up, if you do this is what will happen.” I nodded that I understood and we embraced and even though it was just an embrace between the two of us, i felt as if every woman in that room was holding me.
I had this dream last night around 4:30 in the morning on the night of a full moon…………………………Now I must try to make good on my chance.