I bought a car!!!
I bought a car!!!
One of my favorite posts on my blog is 100 Things I love. It’s so important to never forget all the good things, of which there are so many. I have been having some very dark days, but I know that everything is going to be okay. I will get through it, and I will come out of this better than ever. This I know. I have to trust that whatever has happened, happened for my greatest good. In the meantime, there are so many good things to focus on. Let’s start with 100 …
There is so much to love. I am making myself ready to be able to love even more. That’s partly why I exist I think: to love, to appreciate and take joy in all these wonderful things, and then to discover even more to love. I can think of nothing better. Truly.
What do you love? I invite all my readers to take up this challenge with me and name 100 things that you love too. You would be surprised by the magic that results. I genuinely believe if we are greatful, we attract more things to be greatful for. It’s basic Law of Attraction daaahlings, and this stuff works. Send me a link so I can check yours out if you decide to do a list of your own.
Thank you to all my readers who left me such beautiful comments. You guys remind me that I am not without my blessings. Nobody has sweeter, more well intentioned readers than I do. Some of your words offered me comfort, some offered inspiration, and some were the kick in the ass I probably needed, telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself and move on (nobody’s exact words– I’m just paraphrasing).
The night things ended, I just hurt so much. My face was very swollen and pained from all the crying I did. In the morning I felt a lot better (though still sad), and with that relief came some clarity: the door to Birdy’s heart is a closed one. It’s no shocking revelation dollies. I am not completely clueless. I guess I was hoping that could change. I was hoping he would see how amazing I am and decide to let me in. Well, I guess that was pretty dumb. I have no excuses to make, so I won’t even attempt it. It is what it is.
I don’t want to wallow in my suffering. Life is short, and quite frankly, I’m fucking tired of the hurt. Just once, I want the feeling of being loved just as much as I love. I want to feel safe with someone and valued. I hate what I feel now, that familiar feeling of abandonment, and knowing that I just wasn’t good enough to stick around for. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of that sickly mix of anxiety and wanting that makes me want to vomit.
I remember how I felt when I did my “Birthday Challenge” a while back. I think it helped me tremendously. I dropped out of the romance race for a while. During that time I did my best to feed myself with good thoughts and a bit of self love (some days were more successful than others, as I’m sure will be the case this time around too). I’m going to do that again. It was a very productive time. With the encouragement of someone I love very dearly, I came up with another challenge, similar to the old one, but this one will be more lengthy. During that time, I will not make any attempt to talk to any guys. No Birdy, no dating websites. I am just going to try to focus on feeling good and accomplishing a few personal goals. Should Birdy contact me during that time… I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge if I get there.
In the past I have used men to medicate myself so that I don’t have to sit in my loneliness and feel my feelings (not sex, but the euphoria of feeling cared for — or dare I say “loved” — I always found the attention of someone I admired to be positively exhilarating). I spent most of my life suffering from this feeling that I am always on the outside looking in. I have this desperate desire to feel like I’m part of something bigger than myself. For a brief moment surrounded by Birdy and his incredibly wonderful family, I felt part of something, and it was positively delicious. My heart felt so satisfied…. and now it’s gone. Well I guess it’s time to make friends with the emptiness that lives inside of me. I’ve been living with her for a very long time, might as well shake hands and get to know each other. We are so intimate, yet I am always trying to hide her from my own consciousness. I know there is a great lesson to be learned here … but ugh, I’m not sure I’m looking forward to the process.
I end this post with something I heard Gabrielle Bernstein say on YouTube. She advised that when you are overcome with fear and anxiety of the unknown to say this little prayer:
“I choose to see hope in this, and I’m open to creative possibilities.”
I’m going to do just that (because I don’t know what else to do).
I think Birdy is gone. We had a fight. You see sometimes I get in a bad mood when I don’t hear from Birdy in a while. I feel excluded, and like I don’t matter much to him. It hurts me deeply at times. A girlfriend told me that I should confront him, that these are things that really need to be addressed. I knew the timing was bad. Birdy is still grieving the loss of his brother. I decided to do it anyway. It did not go well. In fact, I think it’s over (again). I am devastated. Fuck!!! I am just so inherently unloveable. My husband didn’t love me (he told me so). Napoleon abandoned me and is just some stranger that I used to know, and now Birdy. All of them accused me of the same thing: being needy. I am so hurt. I’m also angry and ashamed. Maybe I need to stop reaching out to people. Maybe I should just stop trying.
I don’t feel very hopeful anymore. I used to hope against hope that love was out there for me. I thought I was a good person, and that the Universe would reward me with love. I used to quote to myself from the Alchemist:
“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
― Paulo Coelho,
But I don’t feel like the Universe is conspiring in my favor right now. I’ve had my chances, and I’ve failed royally. Every. Single. Time.
I have nothing to offer anymore. I’m not young, beautiful, rich, or smart. I don’t even have a car. I’m a fucking looser … and I’m needy to boot.
I don’t even want to exist anymore. What for?
I don’t remember if I mentioned it on my blog, but I keep a gratitude journal. It’s not a journal per se, it’s an app. Every day I try to write at least three things I’m thankful for. On a good day, I can have loads of entries. On a bad day, it can be hard to think of even one. Why do I keep a gratitude journal? Well, I once read that if you do something for 28 days it becomes a habit. I wanted to make it a habit to see the good in life. We are so trained to detail all the negative aspects of our day while taking the good things for granted. I don’t want to do that. I wanted to train my brain to do the opposite. I’ve been doing this more than 28 days, I think it’s closer to a year now, and I know that this practice has helped me greatly. I’d recommend this to anyone and everyone.
I think my gratitude journal really sums up my experience in Paris, so I thought I would share my entries with you.
Thank you so much Crazy Kat, for everything. You are the best! I had the most wonderful time in Paris. I will never forget it.
Yeah, so you see, the Universe does have my back. For more pictures of this trip, please visit my Instagram page, and do follow me if you are so inclined.
I found a speaker on YouTube that I really like. Her name is Gabrielle Bernstein, and one of her videos really inspired me. In the video she mentions that it’s good to ask the Universe for signs that you are on the right path. So I did. I wanted a sign that Birdy and I are meant to be (OMG how completely lame am I?!?!). I asked the Universe to signify this by showing me a butterfly. I got the sign several minutes later on Instagram funny enough. I wasn’t searching for butterflies. This was just in my feed. It was the tenth picture down.
The butterfly came with a message “let go or be dragged.” I am taking this as my sign that Birdy is indeed for me, but if I want him, I need to let go. I need to learn to hold with an open hand. To be present, but to let go of the need to determine the path of our relationship… to just let it be, and to have faith that the Universe (or what I call God) has my back.
I thought about it about it again several hours later. I take what I call “smoking breaks” at work. I don’t smoke, I never smoked a cigarette in my life, it’s just what I call the little 10-15 min breaks I take to get my steps in (my Fitbit has changed my life, for sure). And can you guess what I saw?!?! Yes! A real live butterfly. It was black and yellow, and it gave me the biggest smile.
I think I am starting to manifest!
I think if life has one big lesson to teach me, it’s the art of letting go. I lost my attachment to most things. I’m not very sentimental about objects the way a lot of women are. Don’t get me wrong, I do adore designer goodies and beautiful treasures … but I know I can be okay without them, and I’m not too fussed if I loose them. Two times in my life, I have purged the majority of my possessions. The first time was when I left to England to get married, and the second time was when I returned to America as a result of my divorce. I came home with only one suitcase… and do you know what? It was okay. I didn’t really miss anything. It was actually incredibly liberating. Who would have guessed?
One aspect of letting go that I still have a lot to learn though, is when letting go has to do with people. When I love someone, I fight tooth and nail. This is what my heart knows how to do. Slowly my brain is catching up though, telling me that you don’t have to fight for love. If you are efforting (a word I learned from watching a lot of Abraham Hicks videos) so hard, something is just wrong.
So I can talk a good game, but am I putting this into practice? Let’s just say I’m a work in progress. For my birthday, I wish to gift myself with this skill (um… and cake, plenty of cake … cake in Paris). How am I going to do that? Well, I just need to immerse myself in it: books, helpful videos on YouTube, and most important — lots and lots of practice.
Okay, time to hop on to my unicorn and get my ass to Paris! Shenanigans await.
I am panicking a little. Let’s start from the beginning. After Birdy’s brother died, there was a lot of grief and confusion. Birdy was a superstar. I was so proud of him. I always am. He held everyone together, he made arrangements, he comforted his loved ones… he was Birdy. He was awesome. He didn’t really give himself permission to do his own grieving. Yes, he was going through stuff, but it was so contained.
This week, he started back at work. I thought, wow, this is going to be so good for him. He is going to get back into his routine, and life is going to start getting back to normal. Well, obviously I was clueless. What do I know of death? Almost nothing.
Birdy did not handle going back to work well at all. I don’t know all the details. What I do know is that on Tuesday I saw him cry –really cry. That is natural of course, he needs to go through this process. He also started seeing a psychologist, and he is attending appointments quite intensely. I guess this a good thing too. It is brave for a man to admit that he needs help. Brave, and also wise.
So, what’s the problem? I feel like I am walking on egg shells. With all my heart, I would do anything to make things right for him. I want to be there for him and give him comfort, but I am afraid he is finding me claustrophobic, and I am afraid things will start falling apart like a house of cards. You see, Birdy has two sides. There is one side that is really fun and outgoing. He is really at ease being the center of attention, and I think he quite likes it. The other side is very solitary. Sometimes he just likes to be alone and do things by himself. The problem is, I never know which side of the coin I’m dealing with. This means that I don’t ever really know what to do or how to act. Should I cuddle him and tell him how much he means to me? Should I constantly make myself available and send loving texts? OR should I back off???
I guess what really panicked me is a conversation I had with a friend. She told me not to be surprised if he starts lashing out a bit. In times of grief, people can say very hurtful things. Brirdy hasn’t done this to me, but I have been trying to mentally brace myself for that (and possibly even him breaking up with me again).
I have done what comes natural to me, which is to be there. I believe I said all the right things, they are things that came from my heart – basically that I love him, and that all I want to do is be there for him. If I was in his situation, I think this is what I would want someone to do for me. But he is not me. He needs time to process – and maybe, that processing is something that would happen easier if I am not making a nuisance of myself. I don’t know. My heart just wants to help. What’s making things worse is that I’m starting to obsess… that’s never a good thing. It compounds the problem.
It just so happens that I have this awesome trip to Paris coming up. Despite all my handmade drama, I am so super excited. I haven’t been to Paris in ages. I have fun plans and ideas (not to mention fat pants for all the eating I’ll probably do). I leave Thursday, and I guess I’ll be out of the picture for a good 10 days or so. I’m sure that will be good for both of us. In the meantime, I have to be smart. I can’t let any of my own darkness to come out and make things worse.
I have a confession to make. Part of the reason I haven’t written in so long is because I didn’t want to admit that I am seeing Birdy again. His treatment of me in the past, or I should say his lack of treatment, left much to be desired. I was very hurt by the way he broke up with me. I adored him. Truly and absolutely. I developed a love for him that was not dependent on romantic declarations or constant contact, it just WAS … until the day he broke up with me. Actually I still adored him, but I just gave up. I felt that I had lost my dignity in his eyes. If a man can’t give you dignity, then love and respect are surely out of the question. I let go.I did not attempt to make any contact with him, and I did not waver on that. So unlike me really. I always wear my heart on my sleeve, but this time I felt too exposed, I felt shame. I kept to myself as an act of self preservation.
Two months later he got in touch with me. Things did not go back to where they left off exactly. I didn’t become some kind of emotional powerhouse and Birdy did not offer any declarations of undying love, but nor do I think I was a doormat. There are improvements. Birdy refers to me as his girlfriend now, not his friend. That feels good. And for the first time this week, after I told him I loved him, he actually said “I love you too.” It felt amazing. Maybe he was tired and delirious LOL.
Last Sunday Birdy’s brother committed suicide. I won’t get into the nitty gritty. It’s not my place. Needless to say, his family is inconsolable. Birdy wanted me by his side during what was probably one of the biggest trials of his life. I got to see another side of him. I saw a combination of strength, vulnerability, and immeasurable kindness — and my love for him grew deeper. Friends and family kept coming in and out of his parents’ home, and each time I was introduced I felt the most incredible sense of pride to be introduced as Birdy’s girlfriend.
Want to hear something wired? Amongst all the faces, I even met one of his ex girlfriends. She came to pay her respects to his family. It was a potentially very awkward situation. The idea of it made me very insecure. Funny enough, she was awesome. We chatted and got along super well. She is the type of girl I would love to have as my own friend. In a situation where I initially felt kind of threatened, I stepped up. I was myself, I was genuine, and I was really proud of myself for not letting my insecurities take over. Test passed.
So why, I wonder, am I suffering from raging self doubt and vulnerability? I have this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, this feeling that I’m not good enough, and that feeling is growing. The truth is I don’t feel pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough, worthy enough. I know he had a lot of girlfriends in the past… and why not? He is single, handsome, successful, smart (I could go on forever). But the point is that there is a little voice inside my head that tells me that I could never compete with the type of women I imagine he has gone out with. In my head I imagine gorgeous young super model type creatures. I am not that. I am fairly pretty, but I’m considered kind of mousy and shy by most people who meet me. In my heart I know I’m a diamond, but for some reason, I don’t shine as bright as cubic zirconia. Does he see me for the woman I am? Or does he see the mouse?
I know it takes a king to recognize a queen. I know if he can’t see the light inside me, that it is him who isn’t worthy. I know I am purposely agitating myself for no reason. I know that I am tired and frustrated, and actually kind of angry. Why angry? I’m angry that people don’t see me for who I really am, and angry that I feel overlooked and underestimated. If there is one time and one person who I want to recognize me, the time is now, and the man is Birdy.
I should be deliriously happy, he said the magic words. So why do I feel like I won minor battle in a much larger war?
In all honesty my Washington DC trip didn’t get off to the greatest start. I misread my flight time, and my hotel reservation got completely messed up — they overbooked and put me in a place that I really didn’t like at all — a place that reminded me of an old age home. I was not amused, not even a teeny. This unfortunate error had a very fortunate result, however. After my little hissy fit on their customer service line, Hotels.com put me up at the Fairmont Hotel in Georgetown. I have always wanted to stay at a Fairmont hotel, but these days it is not in my price range. It’s basically a $500 a night hotel that I got to stay at at my original hotel’s rate (which is about a third of the cost). Can I just tell you, the Fairmont is gooooood. Totally plush, big rooms, amazing shower, awesome toiletries — I loved the Le Labo 31 rose scented goodies. (As an aside, don’t you think fab toiletries make traveling so much more fun?!?! It should be absolutely de rigueur.) I didn’t get to my room till 2am, and I was cranky, but I was cranky in a very luxurious bathrobe and I have to say, I did smell pretty awesome. I slathered that rosey goodness all over my disgruntled self, and it did work a bit of magic. In the morning, it felt so nice to wake up in that gorgeous bed. I felt like a queen. I did good.
As I was staying in Georgetown, I spent that first day exploring the area. Georgetown is basically a really sweet place for shopping. Very picturesque. There are lots of cute little stores, darling homes, and food treats. Imagine my surprise to even come across a Dean & Deluca there. I didn’t really buy anything. I just enjoyed strolling around, putting an occasional souvenir in my belly, and photographing some pretty blooms. After the previous night I wasn’t really in the mood for anything else. Moi was tired.
Now I should probably mention that I abhor politics and am not very interested in American history. I certainly didn’t visit D.C. to see that geriatric Cheeto who has become our president *quelle horreur*! So why did I chose to go? Well, it is our nation’s capitol, but more than that, there are actually two reasons: Cherry Blossom Festival and the Smithsonian. I did see many beautiful and robust cherry blossom trees, but I gather that they are usually much more abundant than they were this year. There was a big cold snap that killed off a lot of the blooms. This didn’t really dampen anything for me though. I wouldn’t have known that though if I was not told. I also had no previous experiences to compare it to. As an added bonus, I also got to see fireworks display marking the end of the season. That was fun. I do adore fireworks.
Yeah, I was there for the cherry blossoms and to see some art. There was an exhibit I really wanted to go to: Yoyoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrors. I am totally fascinated by her and her work. I witnessed one of her pieces in Arizona and I was kind of blown away. Unfortunately, I was not able to score tickets. It is not that it was expensive, it was free actually. It’s just that it was sort of a lottery. If you couldn’t get online tickets (which I couldn’t) you had to wait on a line. I got there a half hour before the exhibit opened and the line was batshit. I asked the woman at the front how long she had been there. Her reply? 5 AM! WTF?!? You would think it was the second coming of Jesus. No, sorry. That’s just dumb.
I did however, get to see her Pumpkin sculpture which was sitting outside the museum. Not as impressive, but still kind of cool in it’s own right.
Another cool sculpture I found was a Robert India piece. I seem to be collecting photos of these wherever I go. I have two from NY, one from AZ, and one from New Orleans. I know somewhere there is one in Miami. Got to add that one to my collection.
I saw loads of art, not to mention Julia Child’s kitchen! The best thing I saw, however was this piece by Wayne Thiebaud, one of my favorite artists, featuring one of my very favorite subjects: cake. When I got my first computer, many years ago, this was the wallpaper. Seeing it in person was very special for me. How delicious it was to see it in it’s full sized glory with it’s deeply rich texture.
Speaking of delicious, let’s talk food, shall we? I ate at a couple of really nice places while in D.C., but I won’t bore you with all the details. There was one standout, and it was truly one of the most savory delicious things I ever put in my mouth. That, my dears, was the positively succulent, melt-in-the-mouth lamb ribs at a place called Tail Up Goat. Oh. My. God. Total and complete mouthgasm. I am not sure how to describe this for you. The meat was meltingly tender and savory, but it is also accompanied by touches of sweet fig and the brightness of yogurt and grilled lemon. Want to go to DC? Go for this:
My honest impression of DC. I liked it, and I’m glad I went, but now that I’ve been there, it’s out of my system, and I don’t feel that I’ll have the urge to revisit. When it was time to go, I was ready to go. The place just doesn’t have the siren’s call for me in the way that New York or New Orleans does. For me it was more of a “been there, done that” sort of a place. If you go, I highly recommend going when I did, towards the end of Cherry Blossom Festival. The weather was perfection and the blooms were out. I saw great art, I stayed at a fabulous hotel. But best of all, I ate those lamb ribs. I recommend you do the same.
Sometimes life goes along quite fine and dandy. Sometimes, like yesterday, I realize how truly separate I am from the world around me. How is it that I and the people who surround me are all categorized as humans? I look like them, yes, my body functions like theirs, but I feel so separate. Surely we are not the same thing.
Sometimes I am reminded of how far I am from finding my place in the world. I realize how little I relate to other people. Frankly, I don’t even want to relate to them. Why? Well, in all honesty, I don’t think I like them too much. They seem shallow, negative, and downright cruel at times.
How is it, that in this sea of unfathomable yuck, I am supposed to find a partner? How is it, than in this world that’s all about being “in it to win it,” I am supposed to find an intelligence and kindness that can gel with what I have too offer?
Work is hard, but fine. I like my coworkers very much indeed. My customers? Meh… but I can deal with them. It’s my search for a partner that causes me so much frustration. I feel like I’ve been looking forever. I know part of the problem is that I want one too much. I try too hard. But to find another alien who I could cuddle up on the couch with and hide from the outside world? I think nothing would give me more peace. Yet, with a an almost violent passion, I have wanted nothing more than someone to hold my hand in solidarity. I wanted the “you and me against the world” thing. I wanted the “I’ll catch you when you fall” guy. I wanted to be someone’s, as they say these days, “ride or die bitch” (though I am nobody’s “bitch” — that’s vulgar, I’m just trying to relay a concept).
And when I try to explain myself, I am confronted with the same psychobabble over and over again: “you got to love yourself first.” Why does that phrase always burn me up the way it does? “Shut the fuck up,” I feel like replying, “do you know any other words besides those you learn on Dr Phil?” Let’s try something that’s at least vaguely original, shall we? I am so tired of troglodytes regurgitating that cringeworthy catchphrase to me time and time again. I DO love me. I think I’m an amazing woman with so much heart and intelligence. I think I would make the most wonderful partner to someone who is worthy of me. But my search continues. My feet are tired and I feel so weary.
Is there any intelligent life out there?