Just one more job in the work pool

I suppose there are only two possibilities available when one reaches the point I have come to:

1. Continue to wallow in despair, believing that life has been harsh and unfair.
2. Decide to find ways to live again.

I've made an honest attempt at the first, spending nearly four months giving it my very best effort (and I believe I've been successful--especially at the wallowing part). It's possible that I needed to spend time allowing myself to believe that there are parts of my life that seem horribly unfair. But the truth is, I can't stay there. I have spent my life fighting to find joy. Despair is not an acceptable alternative.

For many years I could not cry. Tears made me feel vulnerable and weak. I'm realizing that the majority of stress in my life arises because I feel unsafe in an environment or with a person. Often it has nothing to do with that particular setting or individual, but more with the feelings churning in my guts--I still don't always know what to do with those. Regardless of the negative feelings I have towards crying, I understand that suppressing that physical expression has stopped the natural resolution of many emotions, and resulted in increased stress which causes me to seek unhealthy ways of coping.

So for the past couple of weeks I have allowed myself to cry. I have acknowledged that parts of my life are sad--and tears are part of expressing that sadness. I have noticed that many things bring me joy--and tears can happen as I feel that emotion. I have noticed that there are times when I'm frustrated or angry when tears come unbidden. I'm also noticing that crying when I am by myself is incredibly lonely. However, there seems to be no solution to this currently, because I don't know how to cry when anyone else is around. Mostly what happens if I experience a profound emotion in the presence of another person, is that my body trembles uncontrollably, impeding speech and normal range of motion. Sweet Sully once told me he thought it was "kind of cool" (I love that boy!). To me, it is simply embarrassing, frustrating, and it feels horribly vulnerable.

There have been some unexpected side-effects of all this emotion-allowing in my life. The most daunting, of course, has been my inability to eat as I should. I can't talk about this yet because it still ticks me off and makes me feel like an idiot--while at the same time seems to be the actual solution to all my problems (what psycho person thinks like that????). Aside from the eating disorder, I've found that my touch aversion has increased dramatically over the past three months. There have been too many times in the past couple of months when I have felt the need to shrink from even Darrin's touch. A dear friend went to lunch with me on Thursday. When she hugged me goodbye I felt physically ill--not because I don't love her, but because for what ever reason, I'm finding I feel horribly unsafe, attacked or violated when people touch me. I even felt this to an alarming degree when I was with Tolkien Boy, AtP, and Sully before Christmas. I have never felt this with them before. I find this all very upsetting. Darrin, Sully, AtP, and Tolkien Boy are among the people I trust most in my life. To have this reaction to their touch makes me feel sub-human, guilty, and defeated.

I don't know what to do about the things I just talked about. So I guess that's all I have to say about them.

In spite of the negatives that have been presenting themselves, I find myself taking the second option. In truth, even if I'm never able to touch anyone again without wanting to throw up, I need to live. I need to feel joy coursing through me as I watch the sun rise, smell flowers, run under the incredible blue of the sky. I need to wake up ready to work and play. I need to feel wonder as I play music or watch my children grow. I can't wallow anymore.

I haven't seen Therapist for nearly three months. It's too long. I know I need help. I've been using sweet friends as substitutes. They've allowed me to vent when they had better things to do. Sometimes they've offered sympathy or helpful thoughts. But we all know I need to talk to Therapist and stop putting off the visit. I've done so because I don't like driving long distances in the winter, and I'd have to go alone. Actually, I can come up with many reasons for not going, but the truth is, it's time. I've waited far too long already.

I used to wish that at some point I could transcend all that seems to belong to me as a result of my past. I think I really believed I could magically make everything go away. As I accept that this won't happen, I feel frustrated, as if I put my soul on the line for no reason. I was thinking of this a few days ago, and I remembered sitting with a student one day. He was near tears because he had worked on a piece of music for more than three months and still was unable to play it as well as he wanted to. He felt he had done all I had asked but the payoff had been meager.

I asked him what he wanted.
Student: I want it to sound like it does when you play it.
Me: That's not possible.
Student: I know. Because I haven't played as long and I'll never be as good as you.
Me: No. That's not why.
Student: Why then?
Me: Because you're not me. Only I can play it in the way I do. When you perform that piece it will be played as only you can play it. There is no one in the world who can perform it in the same way. That's the beauty of music. No matter how many times a piece is played, each time it is learned it becomes part of the person playing it. It becomes new and alive. You give it life. Listen to what you're doing. Enjoy the sounds you're making. Let the piece become unique in your hands.

I think sometimes I try to make my life be something it's not, based on what I believe "normal" life should be. My life is my own. It will always be different from every other life. It's up to me to let myself come alive--to take the things I now have and work with them until my life becomes beautiful once again.