I Need My Space Back :)

So…after debating on this issue for the past week, on and off, I have decided that Coming Out Crooked needs to go back to it’s original format. My reasons are simple. I need my space back. This space was never meant for business consumption. It was meant to be a personal space for me to work out my shit. To capture the journey of my coming out and my life, with all the pain, the sadness, the joy and the love that has been in. I think it’s important that I keep this space for me.

This message is specifically for the followers that have joined ‘my tribe‘ in the past few weeks based on the positivity messages posted here in my JUST DO YOU newsletter. I have a new home for those messages, and for the newsletter, and it’s intention is clear. If you’d like to continue to follow me on that particular journey which is catered more to positive personal development and the power of self-talk, then please find me here!

www.thebuddhaneuron.com

It’s a brand new site. A new venture. A new journey. And it’s literally being built as I write this lol so it will be changing constantly until it’s all done! But the BLOG is up and running and new posts will appear on Tuesdays and Fridays. Right now, it’s where my true focus is so please feel free to join me. Everyone is invited lol. The Buddha Neuron is just as much a part of me as Coming Out Crooked. It just has a different focus. I’m a Gemini. Nuff said! Lol

That’s it!

Have an AWESOME weekend! And perhaps I will see you on the other side!

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Why?

I don’t understand the human condition anymore. Perhaps I never did. Why do we break each other so heartlessly? And do the things we do? Why do we hurt those we say we love? Make promises of fidelity. And forever. Then leave?

Why do we cherish their blank canvas then smear it with pain? Praise their strength then cut them down. Pray on their weakness then shame them for it. Calculate coldly for maximum effect? Leaving nothing behind but scattered fragments of a used to be. 

Why do we leave them bloody and broken? Wounded and wary. Afraid to love again. Forever changed in ways that predisposes repetition, regurgitation, and ruin. Unable to break the cycle…

I am

Guilty

Affected

Trust atrophied

From lack of use

And I don’t understand

Why

It was ever necessary

To break me.

Un…

If I had a mirror

With indiscriminate view

I’d show you the seed

That I need in you

She wouldn’t be timid

She wouldn’t be shy

She spread me and show me

Before I could ask why

A tangle of braid

Her fingers screwed tight

Pushing my thighs

Kissing out the light

No gentle sweetness

In the moment of strike

Bruising passion

In every single bite

Lust without reason

Unprecedented touch

For it’s the mind that feels

And craves this so much

You need me

I see that

In eyes

Full of lust

But you stop

Then I stop

And the dance is on

Pause…

So I sit by the this window

Hearing rain beat the ground

And wonder exactly

What is this sound?

Curled up in fetal

And feeling things

That shouldn’t be part

Of this every day dream

You strut and you pose

Your plumage so bright

But it dulls in the quiet

Of your kiss

Goodnight

And I close my eyes

Mirror in hand

And I wonder if

You will ever understand

This need that drives

The longing in me

For the strength

Of reflection

That shimmers

So deep.

I am here

And I want

Have I not

Made this clear?

Tenative

Is it truly possible

To be smack dab in the middle?

To be caught

In the exact second

Between Now

And Then?

I am sitting in the midst

Of the most beautiful horizon

Neither bound in spirit

By up or down

Just basking in the twilight

Of the most heavenly Divine.

Moving stealthily  among  shadows

Of ancient times

Witness to the millionth tribunal

Of wind and grass and trees

I hear their secrets

In the swirling mists of dawn

Entwined in the ripple and stir

Of the silent lake

I float

In my yellow canoe.

Alone.

Adrift.

I listen.

Awakening.

I see.

Surrounded by the knowing

I feel it’s truth

Yet I am weighted in the misbelief

That if I rock just ever so lightly

This way

Or that

I will drown in the depths

Of uncertainty

Forever grasping at the lifesaver ring

Tossed in carelessly

A habit of late

Without thought or consequence

By a soul who has no measure

Of who I really am.

Or what she saves.

Or why.

In this moment

I believe in the Universe

But, in love

I am in no true state

Of trust.

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4 Months

So…

It’s been 4 months, almost to the day, since K was diagnosed with breast cancer. I’ll never forget the look on the GP’S face at the walk-in clinic when she mistakenly started telling me that the results were not good. That I had cancer. And then her horribly pained expression when she had to focus on K and awkwardly begin the telling again. No need. The C was out of the bag. Cancer was in the room.

I remember watching K’s expression as it mirrored her disbelief, affirmation of her worst nightmare, and the terror that threatened to swallow her whole. She looked so small and fragile sitting there beside me, taking the blow with as much dignity as she could muster. In that moment I was in awe and completely inspired by her ability to dig deep and pull out her courage. The tears came. Then the overwhelming numbness settled in. And for a nano-second there was a “why me?” but nothing diminished her inner strength. Or my respect and pride in her at the moment.

To say this ride has been turbulent is definitely understating the truth of the experience. Cancer touches everyone involved and takes no prisoners. K survived. My strength helped. My support. My love. My being present. When K’s radiation treatments were completed she got to bang the big gong set up in the radiation/chemo ward to celebrate and announce the end of her cancer. I was right there for that too. But shortly afterward, what started as a small thing escalated into a huge thing and I done lost my shit. Melted down. Big time. Released all I hadn’t fully realized I’d been holding onto inside. And in one loud, angry, woosh I whisked myself outta Barrie and right back to Toronto.

Familiarity. Family. Friends.
And. No. Fucking. Cancer!

I rented a small apartment for 5 days in The Village and reconnected with my freedom and my sanity. It was heavenly. Freeing. Liberating. And soul-finding.

And, of course, because no lesbians life is complete without angst and drama…it was also the bittersweetest of bittersweet.

I saw P.

Ya.

I know.

But, it was good actually. No drama. We are working on a friendship now. Why? Cuz it matters. To both of us.

We talked. Really talked. For the first time in a long time. And I finally got the missing piece to the puzzle of our demise inserted into my psyche. A hard and painful fitting. But a necessary one. Ironically, it left me feeling…whole again. Stronger somehow. Like everything wrong that had happened between us wasn’t for the reasons I had thought. Wasn’t entirely my fault. That being a late blooming, inexperienced lesbian wasn’t something I needed to be ashamed of. Anymore. But more importantly, I was forced to look in the mirror and see something I’d never truly acknowledged about myself before…

(Ya…maybe I’ll write about that in my next post. Today I just needed to reconnect with my blog and ramble aimlessly! 😊.)

I also reconnected with L, a woman who intimately filled a painful summer with laughter and innocence and true fun. Until tragedy struck. For her. Death. Losing her family home. And then everything fell apart. Including that tentative, fledgling “us”. Again, another story for another time. But seeing her surprisingly reminded me of…well…me. The best me. The me I still carry inside. The child. The woman. The lover. The friend.  The most wonderful parts of who I am. The me that people fall in love with.  And it was beautiful to experience that feeling again. That loving of being me again.

No blame.
No guilt.
No shame.

Just sheer “I am fucking fabulous and I’m fun!”

Thanks, L. I needed to feel that again. To be reminded that I’m pretty amazing. That I have a rare and beautiful nature that is not only desirable but desired. That being me is special. That I’m really not as messed up, inconsistent or flighty as some may think I am. That I can be grounded, solid, and God forbid…predictable!

Somewhat.😉

But, sadly, while I was thriving in my freedom, exulting in my fabulousness, and completely enjoying my aloneness and separation from cancer-talk during the days, K and I fought in the evenings.

I left in a thunder cloud. And the storm followed me to Toronto. Passive aggressive bullshit. Every. Single. Evening. K fights badly. Denies she is saying what she’s really saying. Then trips over trying to correct the misperception. It’s maddening! It’s this dance we do. And it makes me miserable.

I hate fighting.

Mostly I hate fighting with her. We used to laugh all the time. We had more fun than fight. She could make me laugh when I was spitting mad. And that’s no easy task. But we’re not there anymore. And to be honest, I don’t know where we are. I recently told her that all I could give her was today. Who says that?!!! Who accepts that?!!! Sigh…but it’s truly how I feel.

We’ve had to overcome a lot of obstacles. My past. Her past. My pain. Her pain caused by my pain. Cancer. Healing.The mosh pit of co-dependancy. Relationships. I don’t quite get them. Fuck the platitudes! The shit ain’t easy.

We walk on egg shells a lot these days.  Explosive relationship ending eggshells. Even so, I hear her truth between her words. I hear her fear of saying what could be a relationship ender. I hear it because I understand it. I’ve been there too. Thing is, it will end either way if it’s meant to. And there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. I understand that as well now. And many times during our heated and exhausting – not to mention thoroughly buzz-killing exchanges while I was flying in Toronto and she was healing in Barrie, I teetered dangerously close to the edge of never coming back.

But eventually, I tottered.

And I did come back.

So….ya.

The past 4 months have been…hmm… tumultuous? Crazy? Painful? Exhausting? Consuming? Running up and down and all around a delicate minefield of warring emotions. Sad…angry…confusing…happy…sweet…loving…and completely and utterlessly soul-lost. So many emotions, in fact, I don’t even recognize what I’m truly feeling anymore.

And sometimes.
I feel no thing at all. 😔

I have never been so at one with myself and yet so fucking torn in all my life. Now that’s truly saying something. Did I mention I’m in therapy now, lol? Session 3 coming soon! I’m expecting a clarity miracle any day now! 😞

So…the positives?

Cuba happened. Nice!!! Camping at  Rainbow Ridge, a gay and lesbian campground, happened. Also nice!!! Had my 55th birthday on the 24th of May 😐…. Pause…. Yup. I think I’m okay with that lol.  Danced my friggin ass off at a dance this weekend which felt amazing and reassured me that my aching, tired body can still move! So, there is that 😊. And, at the end of it all, K is cancer free and today she went back to work. Part time for now. But it’s a start. I’m happy for her. I truly am. Even though her workplace is crazy toxic and drama-ridden as hell, she was able to physically return. Cancer didn’t win. Not this time. And for that, we are both incredibly grateful. So thank you again, Universe.

And now?

Well. Now there’s the rest of my life.

And I have no idea what to do with it.

It’s complicated. And it’s not. I see writing on the wall. But it’s in a language I don’t quite understand. Not yet anyhow. I’m working on it!

Today is the first day I’ve had to myself since Cancer presented. 24/7 day in day out is not an easy thing for any couple. And we are not just any couple. Or maybe we are? We have ghosts. And issues. And baggage. And phobias. And pasts. And uncertain futures. Some days we’re on the same page, but more often we’re not. That’s my fault. K knows exactly what she wants. Now more than ever. Me? I’m not there yet. I feel so behind the eight ball of life sometimes. There are so many lessons unlearned and so many paths unwalked. I feel another life shift is coming. I’m not sure what yet. I just feel it.

But deep. Inside.

I know I’m ready.

June 23. The Universe has spoken.

Something BIG is coming.

Privacy

So…

It seems giving your partner permission to read your blog as a sign of trust and faith, hoping beyond hope that she won’t ever use your personal musings and truths against you in any way, isn’t the wiser decision. I had hoped that in doing so, it would provide some assurance that my blog is no longer filled with sad laments over a love gone by…

I was wrong.

And now, as a fucked up kind of punishment, she has gone to her first radiation treatment without me. This is big. Bigger than I can express.

I’ve been here. At her side. Through her Cancer. From day one. From delivery of the news. Thru 2 hour surgery. Thru 5-hour post recovery. Thru holding puke buckets made out of party hats. Thru showing her beauty in her broken breasts. Kissed her jagged scars. Held her hand thru the fear. The doubt. Slowed her mind when it raced with dire “What if’s’… And reminded her constantly, that she is MORE than her Cancer. That SHE hasn’t changed. And is still a beautiful human being. Inside and out.

It hasn’t been an easy path for her. For either of us. And when she told me there was still time to run, a part of me wanted to. Out of fear. I’ve lost to Cancer before. It devastated me. But I didn’t run. I stayed. Figured if she could brave it out. So could I.

And now I am shut out.

Sigh.

I don’t know in this instant which is more upsetting. Being woken from sleep with accusation and anger from a post written at 10 and read at 2. Or being left out of the beginning stage of this extremely frightening-to-her, questionable healing.

Whether it’s just for today, out of anger. Or whether she decides to do the radiation treatments all on our own. Today marked a beginning of… something. I’ll still hold the puke party hats. Soothe her brow. Tell her she’s beautiful. Inside and out. And I will see her through this whether she wants me to or not. But today, there has been a shift.

I am way beyond sensible thought. Way beyond expressing my deeper feelings. I am overwhelmed. Dumbstruck. And hurt.

And all I have at this exact moment is this. My little blog. Which I realize now, has been spoiled for me twice over by the intimate sharing with my partners. Consciously or not.

I no longer write from my heart. I no longer speak from my soul. I curb. Control. And edit me relentlessly. I’ve almost stopped writing at all. I’ve killed it’s true intent. Which was writing meant for MY self-expression. I’ve missed the freedom I once had here. Lately, it’s felt like little by little myself is crumbling away. It’s time to reclaim this part of me at least. Here. Where I do have complete control. The rest will come with the therapy that starts in two weeks.

Ya…I’m finally going.

Ann, Stephen, Monster, Turtle, Stacey, Crystal, Tikeetha, Family Values, Daniel, Assentively, Dawn To Don, and any more of you who wish to follow me and continue with your much welcomed and needed input, I’ll send the password if you ask. First, I need to figure out the logistics of making this blog private. Shouldn’t be too difficult.

But for now…

I don’t need my truth used against me. I want my personal space back. I want me back. With all my flaws and angst and wordiness and emotionalism and crazy and love. I deserve that.

Time to make this blog private.

So be it.

5,4,3,2…done.