Wed Dec 30, 2009
Go Away
If you don't want to catch me blogging feelings of an almost human nature. Just go. Don't read. Don't come back. This is, in large part, a place for personal blogging. It always was.
If you are part of my life, or ever were, you may recognize yourself here. Or worse, not, which might should alarm you, but you don't have to read. I am not forcing you to. That is all.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Dec 30, 09 | 7:24 pm |
The Rest Is Epilogue
A year ago this day I was dumped officially. Not unexpected, in that the roots of it went back four years and I knew it was an alternative I'd invited all along by passively awaiting change. Not preferred. Not something I expected such external influence on. Not unthreatened. Not even final, it turned out. That would come the next month. Most of all, not something I expected to spark from such a trivial, inane incident that wasn't even much of an incident.
It's been a long year of letting go.
It was only a few months ago that I grasped how much I loved her, that it was a problem I still did, that it was why, along with other factors, I reacted as I did - with fear and avoidance of confrontation. Even though I'd long since decided and been certain I'd not want her back even if there were such a possibility, it took that recognition to let go and actually fall out of love, start to recover, start to think about having a life beyond. If I ever do get past my certainty that I never want to get entangled again so much as casually, that will have been a first and urgent step. Certain as I am, it seems a shame to stop at the one experience. Oddly, those years and a marriage and three kids later, I still feel as if I am waiting, still a newbie, still mystified, still wondering what it's all about, and is it really all that to be worth the trouble, and why would anyone want me even if the hypothetical stuff is real and possible. For my psyche, it's as if it never happened. Maybe worse than if it hadn't. Maybe not.
I was lucky enough to be on MassHealth, for all I despise the very concept of socialist healthcare, and until my last appointment on September 11, I was able to undergo counseling, considered a good idea if you have a pending divorce. I was luckier to be able to meander through a lot of sessions that just happened to culminate in a major breakthrough on the last one. There have only been two times since that I have wished I could see my counselor again (and I'd be happy to pay cash for the privilege, if I had it, which is something I'd never have expected to say about that entire concept). Funny thing was, I spent my first two sessions talking mainly work and school history and such, before getting heavily to the whole marital thing. The last session was a logical closure to that, as there is a similarity to my relationships with certain bosses. I could easily have kept going, and would have every so often had I been covered for it. Beyond being a dominant personality type compared to me, I'd finally realized I was afraid of her. The counselor thought the better word might be intimidated, but I ultimately disagreed after time and reflection. It was weeks later when I realized how much the degree to which I loved her was a factor, and how much I still did. It was like a final tumbler clicking into place, and I'd have liked to share it with the counselor. It was as if admitting that was key to eliminating the feelings. Liberating. That has led to a ton of reflection not only on other relations with people, and how I interact, but also to a ton of reflection on possible root sources. How I relate to authority figures. Who I consider authority figures. What intimidates or scares me. Why this seems to apply more to female than male figures, and why females become authority figures in my eyes almost by default. What factors make me deal rationally with some authority figures, and what can change that. That kind of thing.
So. Answers or not, here I am, caretaker of three autumn year kids I'd come to expect never to have after wanting so very much, ruined income, ruined earning potential, devastated economy, just seeing the light to being able to work despite circumstances and interruptions. A post like this - and personal blogging or not, it factors eventually to income and is "work" as well as pleasure and a once and future surrogate for what I got out of counseling - is almost impossible to write coherently. If you call it coherent even when it's not the effort of multiple hours and interruptions. As I will have posted subsequent to this, I will blog personal here. I'll try to be pleasant and light on some details and all that, but it's what this place is about, it's what I lost when I lost blogging to the rest of my life. If you don't want to know, go away, don't read here.
And on that note, I believe I either have to say a lot more, or nothing more. There are posts enough and time down the line. Can't have the kids flooding the bathroom with tub water. You should see the ceiling in the neighbor's bathroom below us from last time.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Dec 30, 09 | 4:52 pm | Fri Dec 25, 2009
Big Day
Six years ago right now I was in the air, halfway across the country, making one of the biggest mistakes of my life, except for the caveat of my three awesome little consequences. I was a babe in the woods. She was not, and so I can't imagine what in the world she was thinking.
Not to say I had no reservations, before or after meeting in person. I just dismissed my reservations too lightly, didn't believe age mattered, couldn't have imagined what hormones could do, and didn't grasp my own psychology or the still occluded reasons why I would relate and react to certain types and individuals certain ways.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Dec 25, 09 | 11:02 pm | Mon Dec 14, 2009
Happy Birthday!
To blogger Rob Sama, who reminded me I'd intended to bring back the birthday tradition Real Soon Now. One place or another.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Dec 14, 09 | 5:53 pm | Fri Nov 13, 2009
Crazy Dream
I should be in bed, since the alarm goes off at 2:10 AM, but I'd meant to write about the crazy dream I had last night just before I woke.
Deb and I, and the kids, who were oddly not present or unobtrusive except in my thoughts, lived in a sprawling, elongated one story house that seemed to be half greenhouse/utility/work area and half house, and seemed to have dual kitchen areas. The place was not entirely unfamiliar as a variant on one of my standard dream settings. It had similarities to places I've dreamed since childhood... long, narrow structure, as much porch as house, heavily windowed, extensively open spaced.
I had started cooking something, and this is where the kids impinged, as it was with them in mind. It was something boiling in a saucepan.
For some reason, around the time Deb arrived home, I started cooking something else in the other kitchen area.
When she came home, she chastised me and - can't remember the exact details - sort of bullied me into going and loading her work truck. It was suspiciously like a FedEx delivery truck, sparsely filled with existing packages. It was in a big garage/utility area that was almost a part of the house, and looked more like house than garage.
I was irritated that she'd been psychologically pushy and I'd been unable to resist, and I couldn't understand why she didn't just do this part of her work herself rather than griping and outsourcing it. It would take me a while, but wasn't a big deal, really. Besides, I was supposed to be doing other work...
Then I remembered I'd been cooking. I hoped she'd notice and keep an eye on it, thinking of the 2nd thing I'd started. Then I remembered the first thing I'd started, which even I'd forgotten, with the distraction of being berated and assigned to something unrelated after starting in the second kitchen. I realized she not only wouldn't notice or be aware of stove 2, but she'd really miss stove 1, hanging out in her end of the house. I realized the first thing was probably going to cook dry and maybe even start a fire. I briefly worried, but realized she wouldn't want me to drop what I was doing, and that she should know she'd taken me away from cooking. If there were a fire? Well, it'd get her attention, change everything, and the thought made me feel free. So I kept doing as she'd asked. And then woke up, a bit disturbed.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Nov 13, 09 | 10:22 pm | Tue Oct 20, 2009
Bread Didn't Help
And Aubrey was her name, a not so very ordinary girl or name...
On the other hand, the only two Aubreys I have ever met have been men, so listen to Aubrey.
Posted by: Jay Solo
on Oct 20, 09 | 2:03 pm |
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