Wednesday, August 31, 2016

blank walls

In my dream, I stand facing a plain stucco wall. My hands clasped together behind my back as I stare up at the only defining feature the pale wall has a rounded concrete looking lip at the top. 

The 20 foot or so high wall seems to stretch forever on both sides and the world around us (the wall and I) has a 2-dimentional feeling of a sesame street set. 

And that's it the whole dream I am standing there staring up at the top of the wall. 

In the way that dreams are long, it was long.

I would wake from it and fall back asleep only to find myself in the same dream in the same spot standing facing the wall. Holding my own hands.

I'm pretty sure it doesn't take a psychology degree to see the wall dream for what it is: I'm feeling stuck. This is where it gets less clear. The place I feel stuck is at ME. Not who I am but who I seem to be to/for others.  *This does not exclude BC.

It would take a lot of words to explain the feeling via the political correct eggshell path I keep trying to go down so I'm just going to say this the same way it came out 2 Saturday's ago when I came in after driving Sophie home which I really hadn't had time to do.  

I was crying so hard I could hardly get the words out, people are so nice to me, I am so well liked when I am standing right in front of someone who needs me and the second I am not needed, no one gives a shit about me. 

Sure, there are lots of things I could do on my side to change this. 

All of them suck. 

I could be a giant jerk, I could say no just because, I could push my own agenda & comfort at any cost to others, I could ignore, I could be rude, pissy, grumpy when I get stepped on or I don't get my way... 

Sure I could do any or all of those but you know what?

The person I am with the most of the time is me and I don't want to live with a selfish asshole.  

If that isn't enough I actually like helping people. So being more self-centered would be more of a punishment than a solution.  

And if my theory about all of this is right... my down deep inside sinking feeling about myself & the world around me, if I were to stop being "so nice" I would lose what little light I am given in the moments when I am needed.  Now I am not saying that one one has ever been nice to me or that acts of kindness have not been given of course they have. 

But there is an undercurrent, a lot of rather large potholes.  

See there may be a billion reasons and ways to love a person but I myself only seem to have one value in this world: to give. 

Which should be a good thing, it should be enough but it's not turning out that way.  Because if you are standing in the same place for everyone around you, if you are the same person to all of them, then you never get to feel any other kind of love or appreciation.  

I don't really know how to reconcile this.           

Yes, I am kind of a "yes" person. The kind of yes person who spends her own money to buy a snack for a new gymnast trying out our gym because at her old gym they don't take a snack break.  

The kind of yes person who has done that 3 times in the past month.  Yes, I will drive you home early on a Saturday morning. Yes, I will pick up the girls super late on Friday night. Yes, I will come in to work sick so someone else can go home. Yes, I will not say anything when you forget to do what I needed you to.... I'm not running for sainthood I just can't reason being able to help and not doing it. It makes no sense to me. 

Especially the small stuff.  The simple kindnesses that cost very little to the giver but can mean so much to the receiver.

The not so funny part is I see all these nice things going on in the world around me and I can't help but to wonder why not "to me"? What is so wrong with me? Why do I not really matter? Why does my niceness not even gain me simple politeness from some that I help? 

So that is my wall.
It is my quietness. 
It is where I come to rest.

I feel unloved, sort of proven to be unlovable because don't mistake it, loving what someone can do for you and simply loving someone for who they are is not the same. 

And yet I don't want to change me- not that part anyway.  

I just wish I had someone in my life who thinks about me even when I am not standing right in front of them. Someone who sees something that reminds them of me and they smile.  Someone who knows little things about me, how thin my skin is, how much I worry, the words to say.  

One person who would go out their way to be there for me not out of obligation or debt but of really wanting to.  Only that sort of love doesn't seem to be written anywhere on my wall. Trust me, I've looked for it, it's not there.    



In my dream, I stood quietly staring up at the smooth top of the wall. 
I don't remember it being anything more than that.  

  

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