"there are no tomorrows for this heart of mine"

listening to the carpenters. this song came on. i fear it's where i'm getting to.

goodbye to love - the carpenters

life goes on

i'm sure many of you have experienced in the aftermath of a break-up, particularly if said relationship dissolution has brought on a difficult emotional period, the oft-repeated reassurance from friends and family that "life will go on; it will get better." and, indeed, thanks to the wonders of the internet and a specific site known as facebook, i have seen that in the case of the end of my relationship with michael, circumstances do get better. well, they've certainly gotten better for michael.

from what i can tell, his new relationship continues to develop positively. he and his new beau are spending more time with one another and it is clear from the postings made by the new man in michael's life that that particular individual is greatly smitten.  life is indeed moving on for my ex. i, on the other hand, continue to languish in a mire of depression and stasis.

while i am doing my best not to begrudge michael his happiness, i have to admit it is a challenge to see someone, who i feel created a significant number of the problematic dynamics in our relationship that certainly resulted in a great deal of pain on my part, have the opportunity to move on so quickly and so well to another chance at love. the fact that my own insecurities and self-doubts make me highly less than optimistic about my own prospects is not helping the situation.

s.r. has told me that the best way to get over one guy is to get under another one. well, s.r., it appears that michael subscribes to your school of reasoning and is a very good pupil to boot.

the slow march

if you have read yesterday's blog entry then you have a pretty good idea how my days have started off of late. today was a similar beginning, but it was accompanied by an additional heaviness of heart that i noticed does not usually manifest during the course of the work week. i wondered to myself why i was experiencing this added sense of foreboding along with my general lack of enthusiasm for moving into life.

i began mentally to check through what i knew was my agenda for the day to see if i could uncover the reason for this additional burdensome feeling. yes, it was a packed day. yes, i had a couple of meetings with different colleagues that had the potential for being somewhat confrontational and contentious, but as i pondered more, i knew the activities of the day were not the root cause for my feeling. then it dawned on me, "of course, today is friday."

now for most people, a friday is a good thing with its portents of fun, relaxing times in the weekend to come. at the very minimum, for many folks, just the idea of not being in what is often a busy, or challenging or maybe even soul depleting work environment for a couple of days is reason enough to be excited that it's friday. for many folks this is indeed the case, but not for this folk.

for me, friday marks the beginning of a slow march into and through a desert of sadness and loneliness. i may find a few activities to occupy my time, but most of my hours are spent thinking about the state of my life and my dissatisfaction with said state. it gets to a certain point that each passing minute seems to be excruciating mental torture. at times, i begin to question my sanity and my resolve to continue to push through the emotions.

if you've read this blog for an any appreciable amount of time, you know that i struggle with the demons of self-doubt and self-recrimination (not a good pair at all. i wonder if they're twins?). and it is on the weekends that these demons come out to "play" in full force. unfortunately for me, they don't ever seem to take a day off and the weeknights often find them sitting by my side, providing commentary on my sad state of affairs, which they work to convince are entirely my fault and exactly what i deserve.

if you're a newcomer to this space, then you should know that the results of this struggle are well documented throughout this online journal. i encourage you to go back through the various entries, but only if you have a strong stomach. it won't take you long to find the spaces where the emotional devastation is recounted in explicit detail (that is, when i have had the fortitude to do so. sometimes there's just the electronic equivalent to scratchings on a cave wall so ennervated am i by the experience). who knows, you may (or likely will) find some commentary that will make you feel that your life isn't half so bad by comparison.

people keep telling me that this too shall pass and better days are ahead. that's certainly not how i feel as i enter into yet another weekend.

dragging myself into life

every day i wake up about 30 minutes to an hour before my alarm is set to go off. i open my eyes, take in a breath and exhale a sigh. i know that life is calling to me to move out of my bed, outside of my room, and i, frankly, would prefer to have none of it. i know this is a phenomenon that is not unique to me and is likely quite a common experience. we certainly all have those times that are more like this than others. usually though there are at least some days interspersed in a given week to which we respond with enthusiasm and excitement. something is happening that day that just makes us want to get going and get to it. not for me.

for months now, the pattern of dragging myself into life, rather than being propelled, has been my daily mode of existence -- every single day. now at least during the work week, there is enough activity to keep me going at a good pace. evenings and weekends particularly i find myself back to my room and my bed more often than not, questioning, as i wait for sleep to claim me (often aided by some medication), how in the world am i possibly going to do this life thing for one more day.

i've just realized that the last time i had a moment in which i awoke to a day with excitement or enthusiasm occurred the friday of that fateful weekend in chicago in late fall of last year when i was going to be meeting s.r. in person for the first (and as of last count there's only been two such meetings) time. i'm sure that has something to do with why i clung to the hope for so long that we would see each other again. such a visit at least presented some opportunity that i could have some semblance of connection in this world and even a momentary break from the isolation i'm experiencing.

now the astute observer will notice a hint of the past tense with respect to my characterization of the desire to meet up with s.r. again. i had asked him about that possibility over the course of a few months and at first it was "well that should work" in response to a given time frame that i would propose and then it never did. and then it got to the place that i said i'd stop asking because it was frankly deflating and humiliating (my ego was already pretty battered from the failure of my relationship with michael, asking and being continually rejected just seemed to be adding fresh bruises).

in a recent conversation there was mention on his part of something being possible "after winter." while i would be lying if i said i took much confidence in that prediction, today i'm feeling particularly low about the prospects and wondering that at this point, after all this time, if the invitation were even proffered, would i just find myself dragging myself into that situation as i've been doing with every other one in life. this is not a good way to live. well, it's not living at all.

but not here

life is being lived out there somewhere
but not here

dreams are being born and fulfilled out there somewhere
but not here

lovers are passionately loving one another out there somewhere
but not here

hope is beating strong in hearts out there somewhere
but not here

friends are laughing and crying with one another out there somewhere
but not here

here? here there is only me
and what sad company that is

fracturing

last night i had a moment where it felt like all the pressures brought about by dealing with work situations and fending off feelings of doubt, insecurity, and hopelessness about the future were so intense that my soul felt like it was cracking under the strain. and with every additional thought the pressure got more intense and the breakage seemed to multiply. i got to a point where i was wondering how any human being could be expected to endure such an experience as i've been to varying degrees night after night after night after night after night with no seeming end in sight.

i think we've all heard the analogy of diamonds are created as a result of the application of seismic amounts of pressure in relationship to the stressful situations that we all experience. what we don't think of as often is that it's not pressure applied to any substance that produces diamonds. when applied to other than carbon, pressure can just as easily result in the destruction of that substance.

interestingly enough, human beings (as with all life on earth) are carbon-based. maybe god was trying to tell us something with that in relationship to life's pressures. the unfortunate thing is that unlike pure carbon or even our fellow carbon-based life forms, as humans we are cognitive beings with a central nervous system. therefore, when we experience pressure, we feel it physically and emotionally.

at this point, all i know is i have such a fragility of emotional construct right now, it feels like i'm made of something far less durable than carbon. and whatever that substance may be, i'm not sure how much longer it can withstand the strain. it's already started to fracture.

walling myself off

it's kind of funny (in that tragic sort of way) the spontaneous chain reaction that takes place inside my heart. i get a note from michael. the contents cause fresh hurt and pain to surface. my mood begins to darken.

i send a "have a good day text" to s.r. i finish it and the thoughts immediately begin to come again, "why are you doing this? why are you involving yourself with this guy? it can only lead to more hurt."

and then i feel it -- the desire to erect a structure around my heart and seal myself off from men -- not just any men, but from those who have a place in my heart. they shift in my eyes from being allies to underground guerrillas who have the potential, from their inside position, to unleash damage and destruction on my soul. and so, for me to be truly safe, my instincts tell me to push them away and out of my heart. once done i can then wall myself off and be safe from sadness and heartache.

i think this is what they call having issues.

what is my life?

just before i went to bed that particular question came to mind. i awoke this morning with a heaviness of heart from the recognition that the answer right now is "not much." outside of the walls of work i have little of significance in my life. i have a few hobbies, from which currently i'm not deriving much pleasure. i have no relationships in my immediate sphere -- no family, no friends, no lover, nothing.

each day, i leave the office after my new 12 plus hour a day working schedule (instituted out of a combination of needing the time to adapt to my new enlarged sphere of accountability and the fact that i have nothing (and particularly no one) else to fill the hours). i return to a quiet home, a quiet dinner, and settle in for a painfully quiet evening.

i have stated before that i truly enjoy my job, but i'm not sure that can be enough to provide a full life -- even for me, an admitted work obsessed person (i tend to dream about workplace situations and think about work solutions doing such routine practices as brushing my teeth). yet this situation is the consequence of pursuing a job that i believed would provide me the opportunity to use my talents in service to a meaningful cause -- a job that was located in a place (albeit beautiful with a nice pace of living) where i had never lived and knew no one. furthermore, the situation hasn't been helped by the only recently ended practice of spending the better part of my off-weekends flying back to st. louis to be with a certain ex.

it's funny because i feel my needs (wants) are small. a person to love. a few friends to enjoy. a movie, some dinner out, some snuggling, some physical intimacy beyond snuggling (sigh, it's been a while on those last two). i'm not looking for a massive social calendar filled with activity from sunup to sundown. i'm not looking to jet to paris for the weekend or climb mountains or swim the coral reefs. simple needs for a (fairly) simple person.

i've been told that i need to "put myself out there." where "there" is i'm not exactly clear nor do i know how i need to "put myself out" should i ever find it (despite the suggestive nature that particular word construct seems to pervade when viewing it in black and white).

and with these thoughts about the current state comes the shadow question of "what has my life been?" looking from the recent past and backward, i question what difference it has made that i've been on this planet and what difference would it make if ceased to be. this is not the first time i've pondered these questions. i doubt it will be the last particularly since i'm not really sure i've ever gotten a satisfactory answer.

the irony of this whole particular line of thought is i share a part of my name with a certain fictional angel who plays a pivotal part in a popular movie which has this same line of questioning about purpose, meaning, and the difference one man has made in the lives of others at the center of its plot. so with an inversion of that same movie's character relationships, maybe i need an angel named "george" to come visit me. i certainly need something.

some musical filler

can't say that i'm much in the mood for writing today. i had a good chat with s.r. today but that was really the only thing good about the day or this weekend for that matter. here's a song to fill your time.

heart of mine - bobby caldwell