Life in Color
I don't know who I've been the last decade and a half. I mean, I know I've been me, I've been solidly in this head because that's how heads work. I made choices and had great experiences and felt all kinds of new things. But I don't know who I've been.
And the only reason I know that is because I looked in the mirror today for the first time in years and saw me. I feel more connected to the strong me, the inner me who has been asleep for so long. The me who stands on solid ground and knows her path. The me that didn't have shit figured out, but always landed on her feet anyway.
I stood in the lobby of my work today, marveling that I was in a leadership role. That I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't stop for just one moment and see everyone looking to me for the answers, for the direction of where to go. Not because I held anything special but because I felt like me. Just me. I was impressed by my own attitude, by my own actions and words. For a split second I thought I could see me as the people around me do.
At a community meeting on Sunday I found my Michigan self just beneath the surface. Whatever difficult moments I had were drowned out by my own fulfillment. Some came to me for help, others waited for me to come to them and touch base. I spoke to everyone, I had something to share with each person. I had a personal touch for them all, and it didn't exhaust me.
But where did this come from?
I saw glimmers of this, but she only ever emerged at the most random times, or like clockwork at Firemens. Once a year I'd get an infusion of self confidence, but it would be exhausted before the new year. Since moving down here it's been closer to the surface, more lasting. She's been around more.
Is it the environment? There's more sun, more blue sky. Warmer weather. The sea and the country back roads near it.
Is it just a coincidence in cycle? Like I could have only stayed down so long before something gave and my indelible spirit rose? Perhaps, although I've never heard of that happening before.
Is it love? Was it him? Is it me?
I think it's all of these things. I think moving here brought a door, and he opened it, and then I found the strength to walk through it. I think fate brought me here, at this time, and lined things up exactly as they were. I can't explain it any other way.
And I fell in love. Not just with him, with the Bs and this new life, but I'm falling back in love with me. I care about me more. Am I resting enough? Am I eating and sleeping well? Am I trying to focus on my own needs as much?
I've found strength to give to my voice and been blown away by the reactions. It is a good voice, a solid voice, and I can be proud of the things I have to say and contribute.
I have the power to change my life, to reclaim myself and I'm not wasting it any longer.
***
It hit me like a brick wall. I had tried to prepare, to focus, to get ahead of it. He tried to warn me, but deep within a discordant note kept strumming against me. I couldn't put my finger on it. And so when she rang the door and Matt opened it, my knees locked and all of the feeling drained from my limbs. Where did I go? Where did all of my strength go? I was ready for this, I had prepared.
The room spun. I was breathing too hard so I forced myself to slow down. Every word she spoke cut the air like so many knives, slicing away at the haven. "Why?" began to pound like my over-fast heart in my ears. Why was I reacting this way? What about this made me feel like I was falling into the cold sea where I would be lost forever, adrift?
The moment I could, I bolted for the room, for an achingly hot shower, desperate to make the ice in my arms and legs melt. In the dim light I watched my hands, tried to focus. What in the hell was happening to me?
My brain, ever quick to criticize me, began the list. I had slept horribly and fought with Matt. I had revisited a place of old employment and even though where I worked was a thousand miles away, it was still similar. I didn't even register the Greek food until it was pointed out, so I don't know even now of that was actually a factor or just a line drawn after. I had had a shit week, and anticipated more.
As I sat there, rolling down this laundry list of every way I had set myself up I caught my shadow on the tiles. Shadow. Her shadow. My brain latched on to this as if it was showing me what I had been overlooking. He didn't want her shadow on us. "Trust me. Have faith in me." And I had cast my reservations aside to prove myself. "You are not in her shadow."
But he didn't know how he'd feel. "I don't know if I'm over her or if seeing her will bring anything up." It was enough to pull the air from my lungs, to understand why I was struggling.
The cold tiles greeted my back, my shoulder. Whatever grasp I had left failed. I was beyond tired, I was beyond anxious. My heart was beating like a marathon runner and I couldn't find a way to peace.
Snapping the shower off, I decided I could escape into sleep. That I might wake up with a reset brain. I opened the door, fighting feelings of guilt for having locked it. It's not my door to lock. It's not mine to hoard. Guilt poured out onto confusion.
Sleep fought me, snapping me awake mid-dream of a difficult conversation or hurt feelings. Disorienting me. He was there, and then he wasn't. Had I dreamed that? Was the spider on the wall real or was I finding some new, horrible place where night terrors don't fade in daylight? It was real.
It drove me from the room to Matt downstairs.
I still found no peace. Thoughts sprinted through my mind, comfort escaped me at every turn. Was she a shadow? I was too afraid to ask him, too afraid of an answer I was in no place to handle. Maybe after sleep I could, but sleep would not come. I read every action, every word as anger from them both. Irritation. Frustration. "Why are you being like this, J? Why can't you be normal?"
Normally I'd have shut it down. Forced myself to swallow my question, to hide it passably. But I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to repeat old mistakes.
So I talked. I asked, later on. I laid out what about the day had hurt most and broke whatever little strength I'd started with. And he didn't run. He didn't yell. He didn't even flinch. He understood me.
He understood me.
DO YOU HEAR THAT BRAIN, HE UNDERSTOOD ME. YOU LOSE. GOOD DAY, SIR.
I came back. I felt well enough to find sleep later on. Or it found me, curled up on a couch in front of a fire watching Harry Potter.
Maybe there will always be vestiges of her shadow around, tucked here and there. Because that's how life works. But it doesn't have to be on us. It doesn't have to shake me, and I think maybe we figured that out more.
What I do know for certain is that I've never gotten through an hour, a day or a week this bad and still wanted more. I even crushed out my final cigarette, half smoked. Time to grow back up. Time to stop looking for peace in band-aids and keep working on patching up my soul.
Veni, Vidi, Vici. I conquer still. And he gives me wings to soar.
And the only reason I know that is because I looked in the mirror today for the first time in years and saw me. I feel more connected to the strong me, the inner me who has been asleep for so long. The me who stands on solid ground and knows her path. The me that didn't have shit figured out, but always landed on her feet anyway.
I stood in the lobby of my work today, marveling that I was in a leadership role. That I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't stop for just one moment and see everyone looking to me for the answers, for the direction of where to go. Not because I held anything special but because I felt like me. Just me. I was impressed by my own attitude, by my own actions and words. For a split second I thought I could see me as the people around me do.
At a community meeting on Sunday I found my Michigan self just beneath the surface. Whatever difficult moments I had were drowned out by my own fulfillment. Some came to me for help, others waited for me to come to them and touch base. I spoke to everyone, I had something to share with each person. I had a personal touch for them all, and it didn't exhaust me.
But where did this come from?
I saw glimmers of this, but she only ever emerged at the most random times, or like clockwork at Firemens. Once a year I'd get an infusion of self confidence, but it would be exhausted before the new year. Since moving down here it's been closer to the surface, more lasting. She's been around more.
Is it the environment? There's more sun, more blue sky. Warmer weather. The sea and the country back roads near it.
Is it just a coincidence in cycle? Like I could have only stayed down so long before something gave and my indelible spirit rose? Perhaps, although I've never heard of that happening before.
Is it love? Was it him? Is it me?
I think it's all of these things. I think moving here brought a door, and he opened it, and then I found the strength to walk through it. I think fate brought me here, at this time, and lined things up exactly as they were. I can't explain it any other way.
And I fell in love. Not just with him, with the Bs and this new life, but I'm falling back in love with me. I care about me more. Am I resting enough? Am I eating and sleeping well? Am I trying to focus on my own needs as much?
I've found strength to give to my voice and been blown away by the reactions. It is a good voice, a solid voice, and I can be proud of the things I have to say and contribute.
I have the power to change my life, to reclaim myself and I'm not wasting it any longer.
***
It hit me like a brick wall. I had tried to prepare, to focus, to get ahead of it. He tried to warn me, but deep within a discordant note kept strumming against me. I couldn't put my finger on it. And so when she rang the door and Matt opened it, my knees locked and all of the feeling drained from my limbs. Where did I go? Where did all of my strength go? I was ready for this, I had prepared.
The room spun. I was breathing too hard so I forced myself to slow down. Every word she spoke cut the air like so many knives, slicing away at the haven. "Why?" began to pound like my over-fast heart in my ears. Why was I reacting this way? What about this made me feel like I was falling into the cold sea where I would be lost forever, adrift?
The moment I could, I bolted for the room, for an achingly hot shower, desperate to make the ice in my arms and legs melt. In the dim light I watched my hands, tried to focus. What in the hell was happening to me?
My brain, ever quick to criticize me, began the list. I had slept horribly and fought with Matt. I had revisited a place of old employment and even though where I worked was a thousand miles away, it was still similar. I didn't even register the Greek food until it was pointed out, so I don't know even now of that was actually a factor or just a line drawn after. I had had a shit week, and anticipated more.
As I sat there, rolling down this laundry list of every way I had set myself up I caught my shadow on the tiles. Shadow. Her shadow. My brain latched on to this as if it was showing me what I had been overlooking. He didn't want her shadow on us. "Trust me. Have faith in me." And I had cast my reservations aside to prove myself. "You are not in her shadow."
But he didn't know how he'd feel. "I don't know if I'm over her or if seeing her will bring anything up." It was enough to pull the air from my lungs, to understand why I was struggling.
The cold tiles greeted my back, my shoulder. Whatever grasp I had left failed. I was beyond tired, I was beyond anxious. My heart was beating like a marathon runner and I couldn't find a way to peace.
Snapping the shower off, I decided I could escape into sleep. That I might wake up with a reset brain. I opened the door, fighting feelings of guilt for having locked it. It's not my door to lock. It's not mine to hoard. Guilt poured out onto confusion.
Sleep fought me, snapping me awake mid-dream of a difficult conversation or hurt feelings. Disorienting me. He was there, and then he wasn't. Had I dreamed that? Was the spider on the wall real or was I finding some new, horrible place where night terrors don't fade in daylight? It was real.
It drove me from the room to Matt downstairs.
I still found no peace. Thoughts sprinted through my mind, comfort escaped me at every turn. Was she a shadow? I was too afraid to ask him, too afraid of an answer I was in no place to handle. Maybe after sleep I could, but sleep would not come. I read every action, every word as anger from them both. Irritation. Frustration. "Why are you being like this, J? Why can't you be normal?"
Normally I'd have shut it down. Forced myself to swallow my question, to hide it passably. But I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to repeat old mistakes.
So I talked. I asked, later on. I laid out what about the day had hurt most and broke whatever little strength I'd started with. And he didn't run. He didn't yell. He didn't even flinch. He understood me.
He understood me.
DO YOU HEAR THAT BRAIN, HE UNDERSTOOD ME. YOU LOSE. GOOD DAY, SIR.
I came back. I felt well enough to find sleep later on. Or it found me, curled up on a couch in front of a fire watching Harry Potter.
Maybe there will always be vestiges of her shadow around, tucked here and there. Because that's how life works. But it doesn't have to be on us. It doesn't have to shake me, and I think maybe we figured that out more.
What I do know for certain is that I've never gotten through an hour, a day or a week this bad and still wanted more. I even crushed out my final cigarette, half smoked. Time to grow back up. Time to stop looking for peace in band-aids and keep working on patching up my soul.
Veni, Vidi, Vici. I conquer still. And he gives me wings to soar.
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