I have ended things with Greg and it’s a horrible, heartbreaking feeling. In turns I am convinced that it is the right thing to do, and then aghast at what I have done and wondering why. I am not sure whether this decision was triggered by my underlying depression and upheaval in my life – or if it was something I needed to resolve before I could move on to other places. All I know is at the moment, it feels as though this sadness will never pass through me and I would rather die than work through it. It’s an extreme reaction – yes – and it makes me wonder about the causes running beneath it.
If I am to be honest with myself about my emotions (very difficult and something perhaps denied myself for a long time) – I can acknowledge that the things I want most in my life involve other people. For a long time I have been living as though I can be completely self-sufficient emotionally and physically – have left the family home a long time ago and moved away and away and away – have developed a layer of distrust towards friends and family on an emotional level. I have tried as hard as I can to insulate myself from the pain of wanting what it seems I can never have.
And what is it that I want? This is the part I have continually lied to myself about in the last few years – but now I can hear it so clearly that it can’t be denied. What I want more than anything else is to love and be loved in return – to be a part of a community of mutual aid and support. It seems to me that the happiest times in my life – despite many hardships – was living in the house at Kitchener Street – having roomates and people who stopped by and were a regular part of my daily life. Weekly dinners and playing music in the park and being a part of making change together no matter how impossible that task.
I know that to glorify one’s youth or the past is a mistake – but when I see the point of departure from that house – I recognize it now as based in deep fear and frustrations that Darren and I both shared. I recognize too that my further self-isolation on the Sunshine Coast was rooted in similar, if not extended fears, the fear of continuing hurt. And now I am here, alone with myself and I am lonely for community and inter-connectedness. I am not sustained by only the trees and the ocean – I long for human love and interaction. I no longer value self-containment as my highest goal. I want to love and be loved and it’s just that simple.
And it’s the tremendous losses of the past several months that have made me realize this. I have been fighting the grief by building up my image of one woman alone – but it is a false picture – for this is not what I really want. It seems easier though to fake it than to admit that I am not really listening to what I have always wanted and never felt I had. The question then is, how do I go forward and make the changes in order to meet these long denied needs?
I am in the sun on my porch and it feels very good to me, with the sound of water and the birds flitting around – it makes me sad to think about leaving this place, but I am not commited to making community here nor do I have the time. I feel urgently the need to move to a place I know I have community already – even though it means giving up what I thought was the most important thing to me – owning a house. These are big and difficult realizations – and a part of me is angry with myself for not coming to them sooner in life. I feel like I have to undo everything – but of course it is not that at all because all of these past decisions are pushing me forward into a new place – and life can’t be undone in any case.
And so back to the situation with Greg – although I have felt the need to push that relationship away from me to a degree – I also know he will continue to be a part of my life if we can both work out the hurts of this immediate situation – and I know we can. I don’t think we have been able to fully realize or hear each other despite the fact we are both good and open people. I don’t know why that is entirely – but on my part I suspect that because I have not been honest with myself about my own needs – I have also not been honest with him. And so he is surprised by the needs surfacing that I want him to fulfill – like being tricked by the image of me as I have been. I don’t want him to be trapped in that place, as much as I don’t want to go around with these painful, unmet needs. And so we must change our relations to each other before the hurts become irreversible. I don’t think they are at that point, no matter how much pain I am in right now.
I don’t want to deal with the choices and work over the coming months. It all seems too difficult at this moment. But I have to do something to manifest what I really want in my life or I will be forever stuck here, trapped by the notions of a good job, or a good house. This is not what life is about when we measure true fulfillment. If I think about what I want the most – it is a small place in Victoria, weekly dinners with friends, more time to play music, a safe community, and possibly a child in the not so distant future. I want to go home essentially – for the first time in twelve years. I want to go home and make it mine again.
Oh! It’s over with Greg and I am feeling quite heartbroken. I know it will be okay, but there are at least a few days of big sadness between now and then.
Damn, somehow it never works out.
Things are feeling very hard right now for me – harder than they have in a long time. But I’ve made some decisions that I think are important.
The first is that I’m not going to take herbs or anything else to stave off the depression this time – I think now I have a bit of space to explore it and work through it rather than dampening it or trying to make it go away. I’m also not in the absolute depths which makes it easier to imagine dealing with it.
The second is to prioritize moving and creating community in the mid to long-range future. Despite the fact my relationship may or may not be happening – I have decided that Victoria is very much where I want to go, and focus on rebuilding core community there with some of the people who I have known the longest in my life. If I have to find another job to do this – then I will, but I would rather stay with the work I’m doing at the moment.
The third is related to the second – decluttering my life in such a way that I can move more easily, and possibly take up a much smaller place if need be. I want to simplify, and get rid of as much of the past as possible in the process – it’s a tremendous urge at the moment in fact – to put old things aside and give up the desire to control the future through them.
I’m really very scared by all of these things in fact – and I hate the fact I feel so alone in making these decisions – but I know something has felt off-kilter for a long time and I’m starting to get clearer on what that is. Now that I’ve figured out what, I need to get through how – I’m sure at that point it will feel a lot better.
I’ve been thinking about my cousin Sarah over the past couple of days – my cousin of the same age who hung herself last October in the workshed behind her house. She hung herself, I think, because she was unlucky in love. And I wondered how can someone at the age of 32 believe that being dead is better than being single? How could a fight evolve to the place of no point?
I think that I had forgotten then, what it feels like to be rejected by someone who you really want to be with. When a small taste of what love you deserve is all you get. How the fear of being alone as the years tick upwards claws at the back of the throat, reminding you that this is it – this is really your life, and you are tired of being so damned independent, and so damned free. The headache that comes from packing it all down into manageble bundles so you can keep getting the coffee on in the morning to get you through one more day.
It’s intolerable really – all of it – when you feel unlucky in love one more time in your life – a time you hoped it would be different, or at least could keep the feelings at bay long enough to stop being scared.
So now I am 33 years old and not sure whether my anxiety is depression, or the nagging of the possible end of my most recent relationship. I think it is both. One year older than Sarah who swung from the rope after a fight that sent her reeling home to the workshed alone. It’s painful, yes, to give up another thing – but I wish I could have told her “hold on, hold on – just give it another hour, another day, another week – there is another chance around the corner.” It’s what I tell myself, even if I can hardly believe it.
Today’s article in the Altered Oceans series is about plastic and how it is killing marine life and smothering the sea – tons and tons of plastic products that make their way into our waterways every day, that animals eat and die from, that make up huge currents of garbage floating around like giant barges.
When I went to get take-out sushi at lunch, I stopped inside the door to Fujiya (which has the great 3.85 box specials), and I couldn’t get past revulsion at row upon row of shining, plastic sushi boxes. I left, and went to a place where I didn’t need to use plastic utensils or disposable chopsticks or take-out cartons. It’s not like I’ve never thought about this before – but right there I was seized by how utterly fucked up the disposable industries are and how much I want to cut-down on my contribution to the global waste-pile. I don’t think I’ve felt quite so strongly about anything since I first went vegetarian after reading “Diet for a New America” at the age of 15. I am revolted by it.