under my thumb

i've been living someone else's life for the past 20 years, approximately.  it's certainly not the one i've been intending to live.  i've let everyone's prejudices and opinions color my thoughts and actions.  no longer will i do that.  i am going to try to live true to my heart.  i've pretty much announced my intentions on this blog, and i've not heard word one from those "friends" that seem to care so much about me.  i haven't heard a peep from them.  i guess i now know what i suspected all along.

as long as i was under their control, thought and action, i was okay as a friend.  but now that i'm fed up, and really trying to find out who i am, at almost 50 years of age, they no longer want to be friends with me.  okay.  so be it.  i'm grateful that i've determined my true intentions and that i am trying to chart my course.  it's going to be very lonely at times, like right now.  i have no one to lean on, but i guess that's what i'm meant to experience, so i know this is what i truly need in my life.

under their thumbs no more.

wrench, please. for the wench, please.

my attitude has needed adjusting.  that's why i haven't been blogging.  the holidays are particularly difficult for me, and i felt as though i was victimized by someone that blogged about my not feeling "connected" to the holidays.  the more people got on their christian high horses, the more pissed off i got.  and that person had to write a blog entry about it.  i'm still hurt by it, as if you couldn't tell.

but i have to move on.  i'm looking for tutors.  i'm looking for a tutor in Turkish and a tutor in Arabic.  it's unfortunately too late to sign up at the local junior college for Arabic I, so i can't take any classes.  there was also a very interesting class on Islam being offered, by a professor i know.  it would have been fabulous to have been able to take those classes, but i found out about them too late.  so i'm going to call and see if i can at least audit the class on Islam.  there are some very good ideals that i would like to learn about.

and i plan on attending my local masjid in the coming year.  save your breath, if you're going to tell me i'm going to hell.  it's very unchristian to judge another person and their religious beliefs.  i've hung out with hari krishnas, sikhs (at yoga conferences, they are FASCINATING people) baha'i, jews, hindis, buddhists, you name it.  no one has EVER told me i'm going to hell if i don't believe what they believe.....only radical christians.  READ THAT AGAIN.  RADICAL CHRISTIANS.  not every christian i know.  but then again there are those mainstream christians that judge me just as much.  i don't judge them.  i'm happy they have faith.  it's something i've been searching for for nearly 40 years. and now i want to explore Islam.  so don't come down hard on me.  be happy for me, wish me well in my journey and pray that i find the peace that i so need to find.

i've been very private about this for a long time, but now i'm putting it out there.  and i truly wish that people can find it in their hearts to be kind and help me along in this journey.  i need a lot of support, because i already know a lot of people are going to turn their backs on me, just because.  and that's their choice.  and that's okay.  if they are that small minded, and they don't see that i'm still the same person, just trying to live by holding myself to a higher standard, is it my loss?  or theirs?  i've cried a lot of tears over this decision.  but in my heart, i know there is peace to be found.  i walked into a mosque on 9/11 and sat for hours talking to men and women, telling my story, and it's a unique story for someone just coming to Islam.  i didn't know what to expect.  but what i got?  genuine caring and concern.  unfortunately i haven't been able to get back to the mosque because i can't drive right now.  but i expect that soon that will change.

i need a new community.  i need to find a way to expand my heart.  and forgiveness is the best way to do so.  i'm kind of hoping i'll be like the grinch in the next few weeks and my heart will grow two sizes, to accept and express all the love i want to get out there.  the bitterness has to go.  there is a lot of love hidden inside.  it just needs the right foil to find its way out.

my side of the story

i don't feel connected to christmas.  never have.  i just don't.  i go through the motions, making it a festive deal for my family, making others happy, trying to force myself to enjoy it, but i end up crying over it because it just doesn't fit.  i can't make it fit.  you can't force something that just won't work, no matter how hard you try.

so today i found out a friend wrote a blog entry about a facebook rant i had about my lack of connection with christmas.  i feel so understood.  maybe she could have asked why i have such an issue with christmas.  maybe she would have found out that my grandmother died just before christmas when i was 6.  that kind of kills it for a kid, don't you think?  but no, i'm a selfish boor that just goes about, destroying the holiday and festivities for everyone else.  banning it for my family, obliterating it from the surface of the map because i have an agenda against christmas.

hardly.  i do whatever i can to make my family happy.  i do so at the risk of my own happiness and sanity.  i get to the edge of reason every year at holiday time.  i make myself bake the cookies, write the cards (okay, when i remember) wrap the presents, put up the tree, plan a huge holiday dinner, listen to all the music when secretly it's ripping me apart.  i do it so that my family can have a pleasant holiday.  i know i'm not going to have a good time, but that's no reason they shouldn't.  and they do have a good time, i see to it.

but i've reached a point in my life when i can't continue the farce.  well, i don't want to continue putting on the face, but i am.  yes, the tree is up.  the presents are bought.  christmas dinner is planned, and i'm planning what i have to do for my husband's family christmas in california.  but i'm selfish if i ask, "what about me?"  you see, i haven't gotten anything out of christmas for many years.  i feel hollow inside.  but that doesn't matter, according to this friend.  i should put my own feelings out of the way (like i have for the last i don't know how many years, and i am again this year) and make everything about everyone else (like i am again this year.)  but i'm selfish, and she's embarrassed for me.  why?  because i had a grandparent die during the holidays and from that point on the holidays didn't hold any joy for me?

you could have just asked.  i play a lot of things close to the vest.  i don't let a lot of people in on a lot of things.  and yes, i tend to rant now and then.  but when people start preaching to me about how christmas is all about "our savior's birth" and they want me to know "THE TRUTH"  (their version, not mine) it starts to seem, well.....preachy.  and i don't like preachy.  i get defensive with preachy.  and the more "they" push, the more defensive i get, until i just get mean and nasty.  hey, it's great that you want to help, but where were you when i really needed help?  when i had surgery and couldn't walk?  was in bed for almost a month? was still trying to clean the house, do the laundry, cook and all for my family, when i was supposed to be in bed healing?  THAT was when i needed the help.  not now.  and i am fighting my way through very painful physical therapy, determined to get back to work, i'm doing all this on my own.  i don't get a lot of help around the house, but i guess that's my fault for not speaking up enough.

so instead of judging someone that is having a tough time with the holidays, why not try to be a little more understanding?  we all have different experiences from our childhoods.  some have great experiences, some are tinged with pain, real deep, cutting pain.  i don't hide from my pain, but i try not to let my daughter see it.  because christmas is for children.  or at least it should be.  i just haven't had a real christmas since i was 6.  but no one even bothered to ask.

emotional rescue

i'm not doing very well at this gratitude thing.  yes, i realize all the material things i have, that many don't, especially this time of year.  but what i really wanted out of this experience was an emotional change.  and i'm finding that i'm sinking back into the depression that got this entire project started, to begin with.

i'm happy that i have a home and that my daughter has clothes, food, warmth and all she needs.  my husband has what he wants.  but what about me?  i put myself on the back burner for everyone else.  there is a profound malaise setting in, and i don't like it one bit.  the arguments are getting nastier and nastier.  and i'm thinking of leaving.  it's that bad for me.  i can't explain it to anyone, they don't seem to understand.  "but your husband loves you, doesn't he?"  yes, he says he does.  but does that mean that's all it takes to make me happy?  am i that much of a simpleton?

no, i'm not.  i realize i'm a very complex woman.  and right now my situation isn't ideal.  not being able to work, having to go through painful physical therapy, not being happy about my appearance, my home, my life in general....i'm frustrated.  and that makes me feel......well, UNGRATEFUL.  and i'm not achieving what i set out to do.

i feel like a fraud.  a farce.  like the joke has been on me the entire time.  i've been trying, honestly.  but what more can i do?  when you finally admit it, and those words, "profound malaise" come out of your mouth, is there anything left that can save the situation?

there are so many issues complicating things right now.  my sleep disorder doesn't help at all.  i'm not cognitively functional most of the day.  i have a very short window of time when i can actually function on any sort of meaningful level.  that's no way to go through life.  i'm not involved in anything because i have no autonomy these days.  i cannot drive.  hell,  can't even walk half a mile without being in pain. i am working on what i need to do, but i'm only one person.  i cannot do it alone.  and i feel like i'm very alone.  isolated, solitary.   and it's just not right for people to be living like this.  i'm surrounded by people, yet i'm alone.  i interact with people but i'm alone.  i live in a small house, full of people, cats, dogs, but i'm still alone.

i need to learn to be grateful in my solitude.  i need an emotional rescue.

butt kicked.

PT today.  my butt was kicked, to the curb and back again.  it was frustrating, i was almost in tears....over catching a fricking ball.  yep, you read that right.  i play catch in PT.  standing on one foot, to test and stress my balance.  i finally got through the exercise, but with MAJOR modifications.  but i got through it.  and i was tired.   boy, was i tired.

i'm working hard to get myself back in shape.  i haven't lost any of the 60-80 pounds that i have to lose, and that bums me out.  i'm really down on myself about that.  but my balance is v e r y  s l o w l y coming  back to me.  it doesn't help that i can trip over ANYTHING that is on the floor, near the floor, 17 feet from the floor, in another room from me, whatever.  i'll find a way to trip.  and that messes up my ankle more.  and stairs.  why do i have to live on the second floor?  and have to take a flight of stairs to get to my flight of stairs?   because i live on the side of a mountain, that's why.  and i walked myself silly this past weekend.  with stairs, too.

and my hips aren't stable, either.  but they are getting there.  the more i work them, the more they rebel and HATE me, the more stable they are.  it's a nasty circle, but a necessary one.  right now, i'm flat on my back, in need of a nap because i didn't sleep last night.  and THAT complicates matters.  i'm not sleeping, so i can't lose the weight to take the stress off my hips, blah blah blah.

but i'm working on it.  i'm working hard.  i'm working like a mad woman....that can't catch a ball.  let me tell you, for me, that's MADDENING!

what's it like to be denied?

my husband has a favorite television program that he watches every night on netflix.  "hell on wheels," a story of how the trans-continental railroad came into being...albeit highly dramatized.  the camp that travels with the railroad is actually called hell on wheels.  nice name for a town, huh?

well, i watched a few episodes with him and it's a very well done show, i'll give him that.  but today it just got to me.  they show these conflicts with the cheyenne tribe in the nebraska territory.  i could watch a few episodes of it, and then i just couldn't keep it bottled up any longer.  i've been denied all my life.

you see, my grandmother is native american.  ojibwa, as far as we know.  but i wasn't told that (but you could see it in my grandmother, so why my parents thought they could fool us by telling us she was "black irish" is beyond me) until i was an adult.  i was denied my heritage until i was an adult.  i was denied the right to know my grandmother, who she really was, until i was grown.  and by then it was too late, she died long before i learned my true heritage at age 22.

so this is how i explain the pain i feel when i see movies that depict "indians" as savages.  i have a hole in my soul.  i don't know who i truly am.  i don't feel "grounded."  i feel like i'm walking with my feet 1/2 an inch above the ground.  and that's because i don't know my true self. i've always been a searcher.  i've searched for what was going to make me complete.  i've always thought that it was religion, though nothing seems to fit.  the closest fit is Islam, but my friends and family are mortified by that revelation.  i'm turning into a heathen.  i'm turning into a savage.  well, guess what folks, i've always been, if you believe hollywood's depiction of indians.

actually, columbus, (don't get me started on him) didn't name us "indians."  he called us, "en dios" or "in God."  meaning people in God.  native people, living of the earth, making their way peacefully, until they had to defend what they had.  but according to the US government, during the great migration, we were all savage heathens, that needed to be brought to God through christianity, or we'd all end up perishing and burning in hell.  never mind that each tribe has their own religion, that worships the earth, ensures stewardship of the planet and of each other, THIS WAS PROGRESS.  and we bloody redskins were standing in the way.  the land didn't belong to anyone.  the land was of itself.  but the government had to lay claim to it, so our ancestors were all pushed on to reservations, in the crappiest lands this country had to offer.  but the railroad got build, the indian languages are mostly forgotten, except for a few individuals that are fighting to bring back native languages, thank you for your efforts.  the country is a melting pot.  so many people claim native heritage.  i have a large portion of my heritage as native, but i don't know anything about it.

i really didn't get to know my grandmother, and what i do remember about her was when she was sick before she died.  but i've always known we had a special connection.   and i know that she's still with me, and SHE is the reason i need to know.  i don't know my mother's family at all.  i never will.  i know a select aunt here or there, but i don't know where anyone is.  i don't know how many uncles i still have alive, if any.  i know one uncle died when he was just a child.  i know of four aunts, my mother is in touch with two of her sisters, i believe.  i know of two uncles, one is dead, the other i have no idea.  if he isn't, it's probably a miracle that he isn't.  i know that alcoholism runs deep in my mother's family, and that her home life wasn't always a happy one.  i remember my grandparents house didn't have central heat or indoor plumbing.  it wasn't a fun visit when we went to see them, especially during the winter.  wood stoves and an outhouse were not creature comforts we "city kids" (a town of 1200, compared to their town of 250 or so) were used to.  they had a small farm, in a very small town.  i'd help my grandfather collect eggs from the chickens.  i can remember picking currants and strawberries in the garden.  i can remember my grandfather trying to get me to eat a peanut butter sandwich, but i didn't like peanut butter as a child.  i can remember him making oxtail soup, which just kind of grossed me out.  i can remember there being a bedroom upstairs, with dolls on a bed, but we were told not to play with them or touch them. i always wondered what the story was behind that, but never had the nerve to ask. what fun is that for a kid?

but most of all, i remember my grandmother's irises.  she grew beautiful flowers.  whenever i see them, i think of her.  and the hole gets a little bigger.

i know we shouldn't wish for things we will never get.  we need to live in the moment.  but i just wish i had more time with my grandmother.  i wish i could have known more about her, her heritage, her life. and not what was dreamt up for us to believe.  and i know she's still with me.  she's always with me.  that's the connection we have.  i've heard her in my head telling me it's going to be alright more times than i can imagine.  i cannot recall her voice, but when i hear it in my head, i know who it is.  she didn't have a special nickname for me or anything, but i can feel her touch on my head, shoulder, just letting me know.  and then i know it's okay.  it's okay to let go and cry because i have done all i can.  and she's  reminding me to live in the here and now.  i think that's part of the ojibwa spirit that i want so badly to understand.

so i'm grateful for what little time i had my grandmother.  she was a force to be reckoned with, from what i have heard.  i have always wished for more, but she's here.  she's always here.  i just hope it will all be okay and i can find that piece of me that's missing.  and i can find that peace in me that is missing.

why do they call it black friday to begin with?

take a bunch of greedy retailers, throw in a plethora of people with credit cards and a mob mentality and what do you get?  the worst day of the year for human behavior, in my opinion.  it's just disgusting.  i've been reading/hearing all day about stampedes happening at stores like victoria's secret, walmart (yuck!) target, you name it.  for what?  a television that costs $100 and is going to last about 1 year, if you're lucky?  trust me, that's about all you're going to get out of it.  and a few bruises, and a bad attitude, and yelled at, A LOT!

hubby and i did that for his former work establishment years ago.  we stood in line, got run over, yelled at, grabbed at, the whole enchilada, all for a television to be given as a door prize at his company christmas party.  the kicker?  he was working that night, so he wasn't even eligible to enter and win.  you had to be in attendance to win any of the door prizes.  so we suffered through the cold, got stepped on, pushed, treated poorly, and he can't even win because he was deliberately scheduled to work that night.  nice.

i just don't get the mob mentality, either.  just because they see someone grab something, 20 other people have to grab the same thing, and then pushing, shoving, fights, you name it, break out.  people get arrested, trampled, assaulted, hurt in various ways.  stuff gets stolen out of cars just because someone didn't get what they "wanted" at a sale.  it's just insane to me.  it doesn't make sense.  so we stay home.  we don't leave the house, if we can help it on "black friday."  and this year we're opting to support more local and small businesses.  when we go out to eat, we try to avoid chain restaurants, simply for the fact that they don't treat their employees very well to begin with.  and then, do you really know what you're getting?  being married to someone who works in the restaurant business, you can imagine the horror stories i've heard about what "veal" and "scallops" really are at some restaurants.  they aren't what you think you're eating.  so, if we do go to a chain, it's one with a REALLY GOOD reputation for their food, and how they treat their people.

we've been talking to our daughter about wants and needs this year.  still, when she wrote her letter to santa, it had 12 items on it.  i haven't read it yet, so i can't say i'm proud or disappointed.  but i thought we had done a better job getting the idea of necessity across to her.  she doesn't want for anything.  she's got a roof over her head, food in her belly, enough clothes, thanks to gram and gramps, to rival a supermodel, an education, two parents, living in the same house, still married to each other, that love her like crazy.  she's got toys all over the place.  there's nothing she's lacking, fundamentally.  but she can still come up with a list of 12 things that she wants from santa.  it makes me shake my head.  i thought i did a better job.  it actually hurts me inside, to think that i can't get the idea of simplicity and simple living explained and understood by her.  she said something about what she thought she would get me for christmas this year, and i thought it was a great idea.  green tea.  i love green tea.  and what a lovely, simple, caring thought!  she gets the idea when she's GIVING, but not when it comes to GETTING gifts.  i cry over the idea of a child not receiving a single present at christmas, yet i'm disgusted by how commercial it has become.  i want to boycott the whole thing, but that wouldn't go over well with my family.

but what would they do if i chose to observe a religion that didn't observe christmas at all?  that would certainly throw a monkey wrench in the whole situation, for sure.   and i'm considering it.  i won't go into details, because it's a personal choice, and it's been a very long journey to try to figure it out.  but suffice to say, christmas isn't a holiday in that religion.  we could do a small celebration, but if we do that, i want it to be ABOUT christmas.  what it means, why we celebrate it at all.  but then we could get into the church capitalizing on pagan holidays to get the pagans to assimilate to christianity.  (that's a big one with hubby.  he gets fired up over that one all the time.  it was just a way to get pagans who were celebrating yule to "come to christ" if you will.  leave your matriarchal religion for a patriarchal one, so men can tell you how to think, what to do, when to do it, who to love, who to hate and who to go to war against and kill.  pagans were governed by nature, and more likely NOT to do things, as to not upset mother earth.   as long as you didn't harm anyone, you could basically love who you wanted, live where you wanted, make a living in whatever manner you wanted, observe how you wanted.  you just couldn't harm or kill another human being.  even the killing of animals was ritualistic, as to not offend the "mother" aspect of the universe.  maybe the pagans had it right.  they didn't want to harm any one.  it was a matriarchal society, agrarian based.  christianity comes into vogue, the men take over, industry takes over and we've got the don drapers of the world selling us the newest, best, biggest, brightest version of whatever we don't need in the first place.  but they're telling us our lives will be so incomplete without it.

can i go back in time and live in a hut and farm goats?  it sounds like much more fun than black friday.  *shudder*