I went to church today

~ Christi ~ 1 Comment

I haven’t been to church, not except for my mom’s funeral memorial, for probably close to 20 years. But I felt drawn to church today and I was not wrong. I found a lot of answers there. And many more questions than I started with. I did not have communion but I did want to. The pastor offered me a blessing, but knowing that I’m Jewish he did not offer communion. I hesitated a moment before I decided that I’m on a hunger strike.

I made this art with my daughter and my awesome mother-in-law. It was restorative and generative at once.

20130421-205759.jpg

Musings on a boy who I loved once

~ Christi

I had a boyfriend once, long long ago before reality set in. I loved that guy.  I can’t give him an alias. I don’t know him well enough, and I know him too well. His name began with D.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t do something that I asked. He wasn’t mature enough. His revelation felt like rejection to me. From there on out, our relationship was a downward spiral. It’s okay. We were just not ready for each other.

But that rejection started a process for me. I’ll call it closing. For a while I was no good to him, or to myself. We broke up.

It was horrible for me. I had given him a room in my heart. It was a nice comfy room, with sofas and chairs, a game table, lots of windows so the sun could pour in. Friends could come and go whenever they wanted. Books lined shelves on the walls and music was always on. He sang to me. I loved that room. I liked that room. That room was interesting.

Then I felt that to survive, I had to board that room up. The pain of leaving the door open was too much for me to bear. So I went to Home Depot. I bought the lumber, the nails, the hammer with money that I borrowed from Geoff. I rented the truck, and I loaded it myself, all the time cursing and swearing because it was so much work.

I brought the lumber in, and I did the work. I boarded up that beautiful room. I left one little crack, and every once in a while, I went and peeked in. Guy with dark hair and brown eyes from afar at a concert? Oh! A glimpse of the sun through that tiny hole.

Lately, I don’t look through the hole anymore. I didn’t need to once I added three more sunny rooms to my heart. I’ve added a lot of great nooks, too. Ones that I think D. would really like if I worked up the courage to do some more demo work.

A note to my therapist

~ Christi ~ 1 Comment

Do you have any kids?

I need you to want to help me.

I want you to be able to trust me, that I will ask for help if I need it.

I am suggestible. Work with me to develop the positive. Ask me what’s right. I will ask you about the negative when I’m ready to talk about it.

I don’t want you to diagnose me. Symptoms are just signs of me not understanding my feelings. Symptoms are not signs of illness. If I’m doing something unhealthy repeatedly, it’s only because I haven’t realized that it’s unhealthy yet. I need you to teach me that it’s not healthy. Teach me. Telling me makes me angry. Instead, try letting me read it in a textbook or a journal. Or a novel with a character with those symptoms. I’ll never fault the messenger if I can see the message as something separate. I know that you know what you know. I respect that. But I need to learn it for myself.

And I really need you to be patient with me. I want to be well. It’s what I want most in life. It’s what I’d never sacrifice, trade, bargain on, or have stolen from me. I will fight to be well until the day I die. What’s more, I want everyone else to be well, too.

So please, please don’t diagnose me.

A poem by way of my wonderful mother-in-law

~ Christi

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

“When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”
— Wendell Berry

So beautiful. Now if I could only work up the nerve to share this blog with her. But I just don’t think she’s ready yet.

New rule #8

~ Christi

DO NO HARM.

Not to allies, not to enemies. Not to yourself.

Maybe this is really an old rule. I personally prefer to add a little something to a relationship, leaving people happier than when I found them, and to be a little happier. That really is vital.

 

Our trip to New York

~ Christi

Around New Year’s, I suddenly had an urge to visit New York City. Significantly, before my foray into sex blog land. I had been feeling depleted, and I needed an energy infusion. We debated going somewhere a little more child-friendly, but in the end, Geoff knew that I wanted it, and he let me have it.

We spent two days, walking everywhere, seeing and feeling the city. We ate empanadas, pizza, waffles, corned beef sandwiches. We did the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, FAO Schwartz, Central Park. We definitely had to gear our trip towards the kids, and that’s too bad. But still, I got the energy that I craved. It was cold, it was gritty, and it was hot. Energy is just up for grabs in New York. I’d like to spend more time there in the future, exploring on my own or with Geoff.

Now, could I experience New York from afar? Might I read the New York Times online here in my home, far, far from New York City? Could I watch movies that were filmed there? Should I read novels that are set there? Perhaps. Maybe those things will tide me over, letting me get the energy vicariously for a bit. But really, what I need, what sustains me, is feeling a place in reality. Being somewhere opens my receptors in a way that mere representation cannot. I need to submerge myself in a place to really sense it. Also, the quality of the energy available is exponentially higher in reality. Don’t get me wrong. I love art. Movies are awesome. I think it’s obvious how I feel about reading. Yet nothing comes close to the real thing.