Tag Archives: spouses

Purpose required.

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Purpose required.

Have you ever wanted something so bad,

you work and sacrifice….

Go a little mad…

Obtain said goal.

And then-

As though you had been…

chasing the proverbial dragon,

you are again unsatisfied?

Its easy to feel very sad and isolated-

Lonely in this big house-

Full of white noise and silences…

Inconsistently closed yet open doors.

Still trying to adjust- adapt…

Handle all the new noises

Suppress all the annoying ones,

Lament the loss of the old ones;

Not regret not covet-

Missing the tiny place somehow-

Although cramped quarters-

Happiness was found in those small spaces;

No choice but intimacy-

And shared purpose.

Secrets of life…

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Secrets of life…

I’m spending time with a hospice client today who is telling me the secrets of life… they’ve been married two times, 20 years the first time, and 52 years the second. (!!!!)

They say the secret to life is “…to love and let them love you. It’s the only thing that lasts and the only thing you can control. Sometimes. Anger and hate fade away and you don’t remember what exactly you were sore about, but you never forget the reasons you love someone or how it felt when they loved you.”

I’m not crying. YOU’RE CRYING.

Carry on.

Dreams for sale:

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Dreams for sale:

Sold two wedding dresses today:

One, unworn and white.

The second; loved yet stained…. with the paint I wore to hide me.

Last remnants of a former self,

Sold to the highest bidder.

When a part becomes apart…

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When a part becomes apart…

I have previously written about loneliness, here. It is interesting to me how loneliness changes and presents itself; and in what situations. I have often lamented in real life and all forms of my “virtual” life that communication is becoming less personal, like AI. No longer are skills like reading people, situations, exchanging energy, gazes that inspired poets, as valued…or learned. There is an entire generation growing up, (socially disadvantaged in my opinion) without making eye contact, without interacting, without the time or distance to be mindful about what they say or how they react to things. We cause ourselves anxiety over not getting likes, not getting responses back, etc. In our effort to feel a part of something, we make ourselves apart. We can be in the same room as someone and not even look at them. Cursory, rote greetings have become a standard. We sit at restaurants with our loved ones and don’t make eye contact… with our lovers, our parents, our kids.

We get some sort of a chemical addiction to the instant gratification… Our Pavlovian response encourages us continue the high… the goddamn blue bubbles of solace. But we may have someone LITERALLY right next to us. And yet, we seek communication from the ether…We have a cognitive dissonance about the links between loneliness and being alone. Because those of us, with the privilege to have technology, have created a culture of slumber parties consisting of a group of adolescents snapchatting each other from the same room, no one looking at the stars unless they can get a pic of them, instagram, pinterest, etc. We are past the point of sexual revolution gratuitous hook ups, online dating, facebooking, pornography, vines, vaguebooking, comparing ourselves to real and imagined foes, stalking, bullying, trolling, sexting, mentally checking out, gaming, hunting, shooting, racing, battling, flying, etc….

ALL WITHOUT BEING WITHIN THE PHYSICAL PRESENCE OF ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. 

It truly makes me very sad. For us all. Now granted, I know #noteveryperson whatever. BUT we are going that way and very fucking fast. I am guilty. You are too. You are reading a goddamn blog that was either in your email, on your twitter, on your facebook, googleplusokcupidpinterestKiKtindergrindrzoosk, whatever the fuck. You didn’t come looking for a blog by Jani B.

I am lonely a lot. And upon a lot of alone and lonely time countered with a lot of around people and still lonely time, I have realized it is not the being alone part that bothers me, it really is the loneliness. When you have an entire manic world in your head to talk to someone about and no one asks. When you spend all day giving and giving to people who are not in a position to give back, and you are spent, lonely. When you have an amazing day and want to share it with ANYONE but all that is available is social media..or yourself… When you are in an office full of people, all day, all week, and unless it is a client or someone needing something, no one talks to you. When you shut off your Facebook and the only people that contact you now are family members wanting to know if you blocked them specifically. I am lonely at times around friends because I am either so up in my own head that I am not really interacting with them or they are so engaged with someone else my introvertedness makes me wilt and seem disinterested.

I have always prided myself on my communication and intuitive skills. Technology however, has made me crazy, made me anxious. I am happy that I grew up in an era where real life communication skills were more important than properly formatted for office politic emails. Back in the good ol’ days when you didn’t abbreviate much and spelling counted, in love letters, gossip notes, poetry, cards, and invitations. When you used words, those oh so important words, combined with physical existence, body language, and observed emotion, not texted emoji.

I think that is why so many elderly couples die so close together or remarry so quickly. The loneliness. So many losses…having someone breathing next to you at night, someone that no matter what is going on out there, you know you have someone to share with here. The loss of that must wreck havoc on the soul, the heart, the immune system. I know what I experience after not having that for a much shorter time than the elderly couple I imagine. I cannot even fathom what it would be like after 30, 40, 50 years.

I fear for the current and future generations. Those with the skinniest thumbs and curviest necks will evolve via natural selection in an unnatural way. Homo Curva. That’s the next evolutionary leap.

We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness. —Albert Schweitzer

 

Unknown Territory

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Unknown Territory

I am unsure how people repair relationships. I feel like given my path and occupation, I am someone who should know. I can tell people how to do it, via a book and/or my “school learnin” but when it comes to my own, I am not sure. I have always found it relatively easy to remain friends or become friends again with exes; mainly, I believe, because we start out as friends. But I have recently made some decisions that while they have a lot of mitigating circumstances around them, I am feeling regret over most of them. I have written a lot about regret and I work to really not do anything that I will… But, being a human, I fuck up. A lot.

I have been able to reestablish the friendship facet of the relationship in this situation, but after realizing the potential mistake of ending it, understanding the reasons that contributed to the ending of it (I take responsibility for 60+/-% of that ending…), as well as knowing how I feel post-break up and processing, I don’t know how to move forward. I know what I want. I know what I had. I know that it was not how it should have been but it was more than repairable. But of course, me being me, I self-sabotaged. Cause nothing says “Jani” like “Ehhhh this hurts…. RUN AWAY! CUT TIES WITH WHAT YOU CAN CONTROL! DISTRACT! DISTRACT! DESTROY!”

I also find that I make major decisions (that are usually bad in the winter) between December-January. I am not entirely sure this isn’t related to stress at this time of year and/or seasonal depression…perhaps both… but now I sit in a place of limbo and suspended grief. Wanting to fix things but not entirely knowing if I even have the right, to try, to inflict myself upon others…But I also know that couples have gone through much worse and wound up stronger, healthier.

I reflect now on the relationship and see what was missing and how both parties handled it badly, due to both parties not communicating their needs to the other in a timely fashion. It was after the fact that the communication came. And we are in a good place.

But everything else, the future plans, the qualities that we loved about each other, the idiosyncrasies that drove the other crazy but still allowed us to love each other unconditionally, everything else is there, intact. Neither of us are the same, but the core of myself, the core of them, the core of US…the foundation, is there. It’s got a few cracks, but nothing that would be not repairable. We have both forgiven each other. But of course, things are different.

So the question I posit to you, the reader, is when it comes to breakups, if love and abuse are never an issue, can negative things cast positive light on things that need tending? Or is it always an ending? Can you begin again? Not where you left off, because THAT preempted the demise of the relationship, but can a new better relationship be born from the fire and sorrow that was during and post-breakup? Is love enough? Love the verb, not the noun?

Lens Filter

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Lens Filter

 

 

 

 

By an odd coincidence, this week your tattoo is getting covered up;

Under the ocean it will be.

Reflectively, my time with you was the happiest

I’d been until now, a true peace I have found, it

Eluded you I guess.

Dreamed you hadn’t died, that you were in a caved in hole but watched you climb out on the news…

That reverie, I like to think it was you coming out of your darkest place, crawling toward the light.

Honestly, I learned so much from you, practical and emotional you taught me many things.

Echoes of his six word story come to me late at night

“Bullies are just very sad people…”

Understanding of you came later,

Life and love are funny that way.

Looking back, my own ignorance was bliss…

Even the most negative memories somehow benefit from it;

The lens filter of time.

 

*I doubt they will play this for you, but I know you always wanted it at your service so I will post it for you here.

Love and Light.

Sentinel

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Sentinel

Jani wrote a song.

It’s been a tick since she did that; chords and every junk.

(Thanks Jess, I am thinking of you and others)

Sentinel

Even during times of peace….

you’re always watching for the doors.

Allowing yourself to relax and drift,

catch yourself…

nodding off to sleep….

It sends you back into the panic

that you had just pushed back

down into your soul

hidden deep…

You know, I remember what it feels like,

I can feel it too,

But my triggers are limited and peculiar;

not everyday, ordinary things,

everyday…

just like you.  

A blacked out window; an old building next to the sidewalk;

drinking all the memories away  all in vain;

sitting with your back to a door…noises on a television,

children in the street, dog crying out in pain….

Even once you came home….

you’re always watching in front of the cars.

Looking for a change in the baseline ,

catch yourself…

thinking about shrapnel….

Sends you back into autopilot

Running on limbic

our walking talking sentinel

You know, I remember what it feels like,

I can feel it too,

But my triggers are limited and peculiar;

not everyday ordinary things,

everyday…

just like you.  

A blacked out window; an old building next to the sidewalk;

drinking all the memories away  all in vain;

sitting with your back to a door…noises on a television,

children in the street, dog crying out in pain….

Even while you were with us….

You were already good and checked out.

To protect us, you forgot us…

Calculating every risk,

Staying three moves ahead….

Kept you hopped up,

Back to the new normal,

What is it I didn’t hear,

what was left unsaid

 

Shifting sands and altered plans…

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Shifting sands and altered plans…

Since about April, I have been really evaluating my life and my potential choices; juxtaposing them with the decisions I have made to satiate other people; from parents to romantic partners to my own children. I guess it actually probably started in December;  once the sadness of that failure became more externalized.

But April is really when I started really looking at myself and what I wanted from my life. It was the beginning of the last quarter of my “academic life,” the beginning of really putting energy into getting a “professional” job and realizing what I wanted and needed and accepting what was coming my way.

It was a very humbling and difficult time, but I found the fire again.

Throughout it all, I was able to realize what I wanted; I have looked back through 20 years worth of  journals full of my wants and dreams and thoughts and relationships…and realized that I have often adopted the dreams of my partners…I can do anything and be anyone…It’s a coping skill I suppose…it’s been my resilience, my survival tool set. My gerber…my tweeker toy…ha.

Meh, I digressed into my own head. Anyhow…

Where was I….

Oh yeah…what I want as compared to what I was willing to accept in return for mediocre bootleg versions of love….

Anyway…I am back to knowing what I want. My plans are further inline with what I have wanted since I was 16; minus the inputs of other people’s ideas of what I should be and do. I am going to start this process now, bits by bits…with an eventual time frame of 2-5 years…

I have 28,378,573,850,347,850,375,041,218 books. I am going to read them all again and sell them or give them away. Even the first editions. Even the 1852 “Life among the lowly”. Yep. As much as I love my books, they do nothing but take up room. I have read them all. I will read them again and pay them forward; perhaps someone else can find solace and distraction in them as I have for 28 years.

I am going to pay down my debt until it’s gone so that eventually, in 2-5 years, all I will have is student loans (which hopefully can be paid off and/or forgiven within ten years…).

I have a list of things that scare(d) the fuck out of me from when I was 18 that I wanted to do before I was 21. I am going to start doing them…from swimming  in the ocean to skydiving to going to South America. I am doing them.

I am learning French. Why? I don’t fucking know. But I have always wanted to, so I am going to finish learning it!

I am writing again. Not just this blog. Not just my poems and songs (which I am even playing my guitar again…crazy) but actually working on my stories. Whoa. That’s been a long time coming and I have finally gotten to the point in my life that most of the people I worried about judging me or being angry at me for writing them are no longer people I give a fuck about.

It’s my truth. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. If you think it’s about you, that’s your shit…not mine.

I am going to finish my tattoos; or at least the ones I know I want now. 😉 Bare skin is precious….I am saving room for the rest of my life….

Anyway, one kid will be on his own in 2 years. The other will be on her own in 4ish years and indicates occasionally she may want to finish that with her other parents. I have been really resistant to that but who knows. Maybe she will change her mind later, maybe not. either way, I will no longer feel the need to provide for anyone but myself, it’s been 18 years since I felt that and it will have been 20 at least by the time I am there again.

I have let go of nostalgic friends that I merely kept to remind me of who I was and kept the ones that still fulfill me…the reciprocal relationships that don’t drain me…I have made new friends and established pretty deep relationships with people who have totally surprised me.

I am finally comfortable in my own skin.

Not the skin I wanted them all to see, but my own ACTUAL skin.

The funny thing is the “me” I am finding, is the “me” people have always described; which is ironic…I always thought I had them fooled! I mean, c’mon, Billy? How could you know and I didn’t? Send me a memo next time, I mean shit.

I started out my wanderlusting adolescence with a guitar, a book of poems and a backpack of clothes that weren’t always mine.

I think I might start my neo-wanderlusting midlife that way too.

Huzzah.

xoxo

P.S. Hey Lisa, thanks for reminding me of who I am. ❤

Freedom

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Freedom

I have officially finished the severing of all ties….insurance and cell phone are in my name alone and connected to my bank account, again.

No one can demand information about things associated with my phone/phone bill, no one can guilt me about paying for those things while I am “just” finishing grad school.

Saturn retrograde be damned.

  • I have a state job, ergo I can pay all my own damn bills again.
  • I have an MSW, ergo I never ever, ever have to think about homework again.
  • I again have complete responsibility and autonomy over my life again, ergo there is only myself to consider when feeling guilt, if I so choose to.

Fuck yes.

I am not saying it is bad for people to put themselves in situations where they trust and depend on other people, per se…..

It’s just not a place I like to live.

And it will NOT take me 5 times to figure that shit out.

To paraphrase the words of good ol’ scapegoat Dubya….”Fool me once, shame on you…fool me 4 times….well you know….I won’t get fooled again!”

Welcome back, Just Jani!

Tetrachromat

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Tetrachromat

And I thought of you today,

in a comparative fashion.

It made me feel nostalgic;

To reflect on what must have

Simply been

my tertiary period;

cause that mud was so deep

It covered your brush guard and bowtie.

 

And I remembered everything

The good

The bad

The ugly.

Things I wish I’d forgot

Things I wish I hadn’t reframed

Eidetic pictures of

Red flags I painted over

Made into romantic pirate flags

 

And I wonder what he smells like

Will it remind me of you

Similar epigenetics;

chemistry

Evolution’s early warning system

These days I naturally rest around DEFCON III

(That’s just yellow these days)

 

And I was just recently informed

Only 2% of women recognize that color

You men, you don’t.

You go straight from blue to red

How fast depends on the green

Green like the quarter panel of your truck

With the slider I floated in and out of

Just to get you a Miller

Goat trails and water bars, right?

 

And I guess innocence was bliss

But this one surpasses those credentials

This one has photographic evidence

Proof that he was there

In fact, he’s already here

In ways you never could be

Not a bootleg version

Some recording you picked up or

trucks that you wrecked

like stories you retold

And I just don’t swallow anymore.