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The first day of a new year. This should be fresh and wonderful and singing with promise.
Instead it scares the hell out of me.
Can I possibly still live this lie for another twelve months? I am so weary of pretending to be happy with my perfect life and the cracks are now becoming deep fissures that can no longer be hidden. I long for the strength and coldness to leave, to be alone and content, but the long years living as a shadow have rendered me futile and fearful. A true escape may prove to be beyond me.
My metamorphosis I presently realise is irreversible. I may glance back to my former self with some slight pull of the heart strings, but the flight from there has many loops and tangles whose barbs were painful when first encountered and are now impenetrable in reverse. I have become an addict, far worse than the heroin junkie or alcoholic. My addiction is for the thrill of being alive, where every sense is in overdrive, and this I find in love. Beautiful? Without question. Insane? Probably. Unrequited? Always. Despite the repeated pain of loss I continue to seek out more exploitation.
Such a beautiful time with my lover. I feel fused with him and want to lie in his arms for all eternity. It is unbelievable to me that such a man should want to share exquisite intimacy with a woman like me. He is my Adonis and every second I spend with him I want to kiss and touch him to etch him into my heart lest he should not want me again. I inhale his scent deeply and feel it flow through every particle of my body. Leaving him is unbearable and I cling to our tenuous ethereal contact.
Endless years of dominating marriage have turned me into a ventriloquistís dummy. Today in the shop I opened my mouth to speak to the assistant numerous times about my needs, my requirements, my preferences. Instead HE spoke, presumed to know my thoughts and bluntly, carelessly denied my right to speak as though I were merely an attachment to be transported with him in a warped bizarre ritual. Always oblivious to my discomfort, he is proud of his prowess. But of course I have perpetuated it over many years, gradually submerged myself into the requisite Stepford Wife, screaming alone and silent.
I need a plan, a formula, a list. Actually many lists. Good things and Bad things about my life and how I shall change the Bad into Good. Like a magic fairy, only real life isnít like all those stories you read as a child. Sometimes I long for that limitless optimism that we all have before age and time and other people erode it from us. Is it possible to believe that you can do anything you want to do when all the baggage you have collected on your life journey keep crowding out the hope? Never give up.
I think itís about time I wrote down some of my lists instead of constantly rewriting and filing them in my head. It may make interesting reading and perhaps clarify my thoughts, even galvanise me into action. Although I suspect that the month of January is a time for us all to review our lives. Whether I have the courage to construct a sea change before next January remains a mystery as yet.
Good and Bad list
Plenty of money
Perfect life (you see itís only perfect when viewed from the outside)
Doting husband (suffocating would be a better description and I constantly stifle my screams)
Plenty of money (sold my soul to the devil for this money and lifestyle, now I pay the price)
Good job (which I feel I do badly so gain no satisfaction from the daily grind)
Lovely home (has kept me a prisoner for years)
Passion (with the wrong person)
Love (complicated and doomed to tragedy)
Dreams (torment me constantly)
Hopes (probably false)
So that leaves children, health and friends Ė forever astonishingly
Work begins again. Honest toil? Possibly, although I fail to have the energy to carry it through with they dynamism it deserves. I feel I am the employee who lets them all down and I desperately want to be so good at this job, but cannot find the perpetual motivation necessary. Does everyone feel they have been a disappointment in their lives? I expect they have moments, although I feel a failure in everything I do. It always begins well, but sustaining drive and energy seems more than I am capable of. How I long for the joy of success.
Such incapacitating weariness swamps me so I can scarcely breathe, let alone think or work. Smiles are sombre, weak and without substance, despite them sparkling in my heart. The effort required to project them to my dear friends drains me and I fear for my health and my sanity. I cannot continue on such little sleep yet my nights are now full of unrest, exacerbating the sadistic cycle of worry and tension. I yearn to stop, to close my eyes, to sleep, to forget, yet I fear that I may then be forever lost in parallel dreams of hopeless longing.
Why do I even keep pretending itís worth trying, worth hoping, worth caring, worth bothering any more? I just canít be happy and thatís my own fault. I have a self-destruct switch thatís jammed on and no matter how many times I get it half way off I always end up with it firmly locked back in place. I get agitated, restless, unreasonable and have excessive demands that people can never hope to meet. I can feel myself falling down into the desolate suffocating hideaway yet again even though I know I am isolating myself from hope, love and salvation.
Loss and happiness mingle in my day. Dark skies wrap me in a cloak of gloom but without fail my dearest friend sends me care and love to weave the sunshine through my heart. Everything tells me he is my soul mate, the one who will always soothe my fears and tenderly stroke my disillusionment. Another door is still open though and I cannot stop myself from peering into the gloom, for wild fireflies of happiness dazzle as they flit through there. Longing and seductive fear hypnotise me until my eyes are locked to the scene of my passionate demise.
It seems I finally have to face up to it. He really doesnít care about me or want me at all. Well, except for a convenient shag when nobody better is available. I should expect no less Ė after all I laid myself out on a plate for him so why be surprised that I get stabbed with a fork and hacked at with a knife? Itís the same old problem for me though Ė I have let myself get close to him and now it hurts. So much. There is anger too. I was honest. I cared. I loved. I hate.
I should smash my phone and block emails then I would not be able to make a complete idiot of myself. I am incapable of being cool and calm and sensible Ė itís inevitable that I rush headlong into showing my heart and ignore all the clamouring bells in my head that tell me to stop. Self-respect trampled into the floor yet again, embarrassment levels sky high and me left wondering how I can be so pathetically transparent and hopelessly loving. Can I be cold and uncaring? Will it help me if I use them the way they all use me?
I am finding it tremendously difficult to keep up the pretence at home anymore. In fact I am becoming hell to live with, unreasonable, cold to freezing point, distant and increasingly vitriolic. It does me no favours either as I know that the hard shell I am putting into place will get thicker the longer I cultivate it and, if I am not careful, will become a permanent feature. That frightens me as I donít want to be that sort of person, but I struggle to cope with my unhappiness and actually have no wish to repair the widening rift.
The past is always there, a part of me, unchangeable. The present is fleeting and transient, shifting sands that solidify when they become historical. The future is glimpsed through a dark veil of hope and fear and longing, which can never be truly grasped. Serendipity cannot be foreseen and that fills me with a promise of joy and contentment. Happiness is elusive, but constantly makes unexpected appearances for which I am thankful and appreciative. Sadness is inevitable in balance yet there is always a hidden strength for endurance. I only know that I still care, deeply and with searing intensity.
A day full of happy challenges and a sense of achievement and fulfilment. I felt strong, positive and in control of my life for once. How is the world lit and positioned so that this can happen? I know of nothing radically different in this day and yet I am full of purpose and serenity that eludes me on apparently identical days. Explanations are clearly beyond my understanding so I give thanks to no particular deity for my good fortune, strength of mind and the rose hue I see through my smiling blue eyes. Long may this fragile vigour persevere.
A minor crisis and I felt calm Ė amazing. I knew just who I wanted to be there with me though and, despite me trying other avenues, I still keep coming back to the same path. Nobody else talks to me the way he does, nobody else understands me like he does and nobody else loves and cares for me like he does. But I know that this path can never run smooth Ė there are too many others blocking our way, not to mention our own consciences. There is no doubting that I truly love him, but that is not enough.
Guilt. A leaden blanket that renders me incapable of functioning normally. I could convince myself that the headaches and raised temperature and general grogginess are just part of a winter bug that I have contracted and, in part, that may be true. But without the guilt I would be able to get on with my everyday work, albeit a little slower and less enthusiastically than usual. The wrong I am doing to others and to myself is gradually eroding my carefully constructed Ďperfectí life and I wonder what I shall do when it finally crumbles under the perpetual self-inflicted strain.
Today bears the scars of yesterdayís tempest. Everywhere uprooted trees and debris tell the tale of a fierce battle, the aftermath of broken pieces swept neatly to one side. Yet all I saw was the beauty of it all, how life continues in a slightly altered form but with fresh smiles and optimism. Of course I know that I laughed and smiled because of his love. I saw the joy in the world as he held me and I wanted to be with him forever. I began to hope that we could survive the tornado and be together, somehow, always.
Yet another lonely Saturday night with me pretending everything is fine. Truth is Iím frightened. I felt an old terror returning tonight, for no good reason other than I donít feel so well and had to busy myself like a demon until it subsided. The future is such a place of trepidation and foreboding. If I try really hard I can imagine some joyful sparkles scattered in there, only a few though. I long to be with a soul mate I can trust completely, who I can be happy and contented with. Wasnít that what marriage was supposed to bring?
Itís not too late.
We donít belong to each other, yet.
We should finish this
Before we hurt those close to us, and flood our worlds with blame and recriminations.
Before there is a violent slash through our lives that can never be healed.
Before we are forced brutally into the spotlight of confession.
Before we can no longer contain the tears to just the two of us.
Before the tendrils that are pulling us ever closer become too tight to remove.
Before the pain of parting becomes too dreadful to bear.
Before I admit to needing your love forever.
I was doing so well today, but then it all went downhill and I find myself in that mode where I have no ounce of mental energy to spare and just want to sleep to forget the world. Iíve realised that I am impossible to please and will never truly be happy because of my own attitude. I also know that there is absolutely nothing I will ever be exceptionally good at. My job has the spectre of a formal warning hanging over me and I donít feel I can cope with it all anyway.
I want to run away.
Today was full of good things and I had that positive, driving attitude where I felt confident and able to do anything. If only I had that every day I would be a superstar, but I know all too well that my batteries run out easily and need regular recharging before I start to cope again after a rundown. Quite scared about meeting with line manger tomorrow. The email said to discuss my attendance but that could mean a formal warning. A friend at work suggested I contact the union as he thinks it equates to a forthcoming constructive dismissal!
Seems like my magic supply is well overdrawn and now itís payback time with a vengeance. This has been such a bad day and Iím right down there at the bottom of the deep dark hole once more and donít know if I have the will to get myself out again. Not only was the work meeting worse than I feared and resulted in a formal warning, but a deep fist of indifference smashed me hard between the eyes from someone I thought cared about me. I am so tired of it all Ė it would be easy to sleep forever.
I am truly amazed at my resilience today. I fully expected to be tragically depressed, unable to cope with the slightest thing. Instead I felt strong and determined and by the end of the day was chirpy and positive and looking forward to the future. How is it that I can manage to do that? Some days I can barely crawl through the front door and shy away from any contact with the world. Now the chips are really down though I somehow find an inner strength and determination to hold my head up high, sparkle and glint with rage.
Iíve never been an angry person, but today, due to circumstances at work, I had a torrent of barely subdued anger thrashing behind my faÁade for most of the day. And it made me strong. I felt powerful and in control, able to defeat my aggressors with merely a look and a slash of cold steel words. Except that most of them were not enemies, just innocent bystanders and whilst that power worked to keep me formidable, it also changed the essence of me, ripping away my compassion and humanity. The replacement hate and hostility coated my heart with ice.
It must be so obvious to the world that we are in love, even though we try to keep it hidden. We constantly gravitate towards each other like attracting magnets and so many knowing looks and smiles and special glances pass between us that it is surely a neon flashing sign to anyone with even a casual observation. Today I longed to hold his hand and kiss him publicly. The restraint was torture and I expect I should be thinking how wrong it is. But it feels so wonderful and makes me so happy that I canít walk away now.
Connect with me
Be close in your thoughts so I hear my name
Turn my head with your hidden smile
Flash your sparkle into my waiting eyes
Upset the rhythm of my living breath
Pour your reflective kisses into my liquefied soul
Touch the silk as I stroke you with my hair
Shiver as I reach your melting point
Possess me with your sorcery
Weave threads of unbreakable love through my heart
Caress my life with tender embrace
Protect me from ghostly shadows of fear
Meld us together to create a life worth living
ĎAll of your colours still light my dreamsí Ė how beautiful I find those words. My life has indeed been filled with the most wonderful colours and although dreams are only possible at the end of a rainbow, my heart is filled with the most impossible hope and longing. I fear to think of how much I am in love because the ending can never be happy. If we are together it will mean devastating sadness and loss for those we care about. If we remain apart our sorrow will be unbearable. So for now let our secrets haunt each other.
So depressed Ė again. Have been feeling strong and in control, ready to take on the world, so how do these feelings suddenly engulf me for no proper reason? It started at work, confidence just drained away and I was also in a pit of exhaustion. I expect itís paranoia, but I feel that everyone is thinking how badly I do my job. Then rehearsal was deeply unsatisfying, with the added revelation that my dear friend has left our band, without telling me a thing. So now Iím not even classed as a good friend. I rage at my screaming inadequacy.
Itís now too late.
No matter what happens in the future I know that this time has a permanent place in my heart. I canít deny any longer that I am in love and that canít be undone. I am not young and naÔve so I realise that love is not enough to make a fairytale ending, but I canít bear to think of being without him. He cares about me and understands me like nobody else ever has. A soul mate who has filled my world with sunshine and rainbows.
And yet our happiness will exact a heavy price.
The Tip Jar