good grief or bad?

Grieving is a serious business, it's been over a year since my
ex husband ran off with his ex wife. (And it's humiliating
to mourn a such a cliched scenario.)

It's been a short while since my rebounder relationship went bung.
(Another womanizer- another cliched con).

The whole year has been marked with betrayals and losses.
You can tell when you've got it bad when you're reading the book
of Job thinkin' "what's he complainin about....?"

But there comes the time when you can't help but think,
"when am I going to get over this?" You want to be able to
let mates and family know: "scuse me but I am temporarily
insane while I am in mourning"...

You can tell your friends and those who love you are worried about
you too. So you try to do the smiley Walmart greeting face...but..
it's fake. It's dishonest. You end up feeling like a kid at a sports event
who fumbles the ball while his family are watching.

It's a self centered damned business too. I keep trying to pop
the balloons at my own pity party, my thoughts become environmentally
unfriendly recyclers, and my heart feels like a cheese grater- riddled with
holes and crumbs of old crusty love.

I keep stepping on my own self esteem.

I understand that grief is necessary. I am allowing myself
to fully feel, (without the numbing agents I used to employ:
vodka and red wine), but just when does bad grief become good?

Where are the jokes in all of this???

Breaking the cycle.

Ever looked back on your dating/romantic partner pattern?
I keep dating the same person wearing a different mask.

Often I am attracted to what appears to be kindly, spiritual,
intelligent and charming. Take off the differnt masks and
there is bluebeard, ready to attack me for having gotten
hold of his key to his forbidden cupboard (full of the bones
of ex lovers.)

Sigh.

And I have a new personal red flag. Whatever they say they
are, (often emphatically) it's usually proven they turn out
to be the very opposite. If they tell you they are 'honest' - they
generally turn out to be the worst liars possible. If they
pride themselves on being able to "understand women" - watch
for the misogyny to peek out.  If they tell you they value fidelity
more than any other quality, you can be sure you are about
to deal with a sex addict. Self confessed rich men borrow money
off you, and "romantics" will do no more than a quick run
at a burger joint drive through for dinner.

It always turns out to be the opposite of what they promote themselves
to be. I should do the same.

I've decided to tell 'em I am a proper bitch....

Getting over heartbreak, 101.

How to Get over a heartbreak.

1. Cry alot.
2. Eat comfort foods.
3. Don't remember any good times, that will
keep you stuck. Try to remember all the horrible things
so that you can remember why you broke up in the first
place.
4. Cry some more.
5. Eat some more.
6. Use the anger to clean up your living space.
7. Only hang around friends who tell you how his eyes
were too close together anyway. At this stage,
you need emotional enablers.
8. Cry some more.
9. Eat some more
10. By now you should have eaten so much
you should be puking.
11. By now your body should have run out
of snot and salt and grief like liquids, so that
it is not possible to cry or eat. You should be looking
in the mirror saying "holy crap I got to do
something about this."

Keep repeating this process until the ex is fully out of
your psyche.
12. When you start to notice the sun is shining, and
that there are some cute men out there..you are over it.

The fall

I fell down. When you fall down sometimes you scrape your knees, get bruised, or break bones.
My friend Simon falls alot. It's part of his physical condition, he knows it, expects it to happen and has prepared himself by knowing what moves to make to help prevent damage. He has learnt how to protect himself for falls. I admire my friend. He has taught me alot.

My falls aren't the physical kind. I fall emotionally. I try to think of why I fall. Maybe it was because I wasn't looking where I was going? Maybe it was because I wore the wrong kind of footwear? (Shouldn't wear high heels while mountain climbing). Maybe it was because I wasn't really sure of my footing in the first place? Maybe I was pushed?

I've learned that the reason doesn't really matter. "Who dunnits" don't always address the solutions- the future personal "to do" lists necessary for healing.

Life is full of falls. I have fallen down alot in my life. It's just annoying that I keep falling in the same way and in the same place.

I wasn't prepared for the last fall and I hadn't learned to protect myself, to fall in a way that would cause me the least amount of damage. There was nothing to cushion the blow.

Obviously I fell from a great height..because I really fell such a long way, screamed a long time, and landed very heavily. I tried to use alcohol to ease the pain. It didn't really work, just gave me a headache and dragged out the hurt. The drunken broken hearted only end up validating the heartbreaker- "that's why I left" they say, pointing self righteously toward the mascara smeared in the tequila soaked puddle at their feet. (Ofcourse it had nothing to do with their stone cold sober lies and carefully planned betrayals.) I forgive myself my heartbroken
reactions. I understand why I fell.

Where I landed was great pit full of muddy anger and slimy self pity. There were tears of loves gone by, floating timbers of former relation-shipwrecks, ripples of "who done me wrong" resentments bubbling with "if only's"...

It's a slippery mix and hard to climb out of. At least it's warm. Climbing out of it means facing the cold brisk air, shivering as you dry off.

You have to be careful as you pull yourself out of this slow-sanded pool. Don't be reaching
out your hand for help.

Caped crusaders who need "damsel's in distress" appear wearing hero masks. They hold out a hand to help you up and out, only to backhand you with the other and push even deeper into the pit. Spider man turns out to be sticky boy, superman turns out to be mega pimp, and batman turns out to be a blood sucking dracula. Behind every hero mask hides a bluebeard.

I've been such a sucker for superheros. My first love was astro boy. I guess that was an early indication that I would be bound to find two dimensional lovers in my future. My romantic life has the storyboard of a cartoon.

In the pit of the broken hearted you need to be still. Others may call out to you, encouraging
things like "get over it" and "do you need a wahmbulance" and "you wet your bed, now lie in it"...and "get off the pity pot" -you can't always heal the way others insist you heal.

I tried it. I tried faking happiness. "Look at me, I have moved on! Ta da, I am
so looking for a bonk right now and I am sooo big and stwong!" Nah.
That have a nice day shit is for the shallow, the narcissistic and the
hollow hearted. I just have to wait. I have to wait for time to do it's thing-
put a bit of gaffa tape around my soul, stay honest about how I feel and rest.

You have to be still. If you thrash around the wounds open, they bleed.
Then those pesky vampires appear. They come to feed off that energy..
the blood. Your misery simply becomes a feeding sanctuary for fang wearing
love vultures.

Good grief or bad... it cuccoons you in a salty blanket. I guess that helps you heal. If the grief wasn't there when you came crashing down you might smash into a million fragments. At least it softens the fall.

Life is full of falls. I fell without a parachute and as I hurtled towards the earth I really thought someone would save me. I really thought leaving myself so unprotected was a brave proof of my love and courage. It was just stupid.

I am not guilty of faithlessness, I am however, guilty of stupidity.

I know though, that if stupidity was a crime I would be in a very crowded jail. I've not been the only fool in love. I just want to stop being a repeat offender.

I have had the kind of blind trust and naivety that a telemarketer prays for. I walked with a bullseye on my heart, and my heart was on my sleeve, not a safe place to wear it.
My pain isn't private either. As a child I was a better seeker than a hider. I would make
a terrible poker player. Because of this I don't fit in well with this mechanical reasonable
time. I love therefore I am. I wonder how Mrs. Descartes ever coped with Rene? All that amming and thinking- no room for soul in that "reasonable" world.

Mastering emotions is one thing, denying them another. Making "reason" the ruling
way of being seems to be like pimping out your own humanity to please an automative
society. Surely that time is at an end.

This last year I found out my husband was having an affair, I lost my house, my dog and all I knew to be love, stability, home and belonging here in this foreign land. It was like being
in a bad country song. It hurt - and to be hurt by such a cliche brought me to
my knees. Ugh...to be left for the "other woman" is utterly devastating. No need to
go to an ashram to get your ego broken, just date my ex.

No amount of pleading, crying, screaming and praying changes anything. It
did help me move through things faster though. Slowly I began rebuilding...
I began to try to renovate myself...self examination followed by action to
be sure I took responsiblity for those areas within myself that may have
been non relationship friendly. I began climbing out of the pit.

then ..someone gave me a hand..and offered me a comforting heart...

and words. Words words and words. Such beautiful words. "You're beautiful" and
"I love you" and "I love the 'essence' of you." When did that change into "you're an asswipe
and a simple bitch", and "you are replaceable" and "you've got to change"?
How do "I love you notes" scattered around a room become "an irritation and indication
of 'excessive behavior traits'? Drawers full of porn are okay? "I love you notes' are
sick? And so I fall again...

He wore a superhero mask and Michael Jordan shoes. He spoke in 12 step cliches and prayed in the warm limelight of grateful sponsees. He was more X than Malcolm, more talk than
walk and put the ass in Onestas.

When his mask slipped, there stood the familiar grinning bluebeard.
Turned out all he ever wanted was a temporary tooth fairy. I was just a
replaceable vagina, an exotic trophy to wear on his arm at various occasions,
and back up mature aged booty for in between his affairs with barely legals
and crack ho cinderellas.

His serenity nearly killed me. He has groomed his enablers to disregard
the fourth step. He is part of a group conscience that seems to have no conscience,
their silence a mere tacit agreement that this outdated sexism and predatory behavior is acceptable. Kelly's bar becomes Killers bar. How can there be principles before personalities
when the group is ran by the unprincipled?

My love and trust in others has cost me. I am four thousand dollars in debt. I
ended up in a hospital three times this last year. I am exhausted. I am pissed off, and hurt.
I can't heal wearing someone else's band aids.


I won't lie about it. I will try
not to lie in it. But I don't want to reach out to be hurt again.

I am going to climb out of the pit.

I am going to make my own way.

I am going to be like my friend Simon, and
learn how to protect myself for life's inevitable falls.

There will be no more "falling in love."

I intend to rise in love- along with the like hearted.

I love therefore I am.

The River

I am at the time spoken of
when the river flows very fast.
And so, it's better to go with the rushing waters
not hang on to shores past...
past sands
past lands
past flanks of roads once travelled
past broken levees
and shifted ground
past dreams unravelled
and rusted crowns.

Did you ever see the clouds spirit sigh
as it drifed overhead?
And know it's calling?-the glow of promised water
a song sung to your last
last lie
last chant of your goodbye
last cry
last flighte of holds once tight held
last song by unheard angels
and redman sky?
-last sunrays faded
and darkened waterfalls?

I am at the time they had foretold of
when water rise rushes down
and I go with the rapids
floating so I won't drown
go down with what needs to be submerged
down in the levles deep dark below
down in crumbling caverns
and abandoned caves
down beneath the overflow
and racing waves.

how to tell if you are dating a control freak

Did you check with them first to find out if you were allowed to read this?

Healing through humor

So I should have learnt to be American. I should have learned to sue.
Meanwhile, here's how an Aussie deals with injustice. Humor.
Let me give you a warning,
let me give you advice,
if you go to Grand Canyon
you might hafta think twice...
there are bobcats and lions,
bears and the rest,
but nuthin' as nasty asPark Ranger Hoese.

CHORUS:
She's got a mean face
and a great big butt
she hunts down tourists
in her Ranger truck
she'll give you a ticket
if you wear a grin
she's more scarey than the
drop on the south side rim.
Wa-ooooo

She hates tourists with a passion
she hates children too
that khaki ranger beast
will come after you
if you're on vacation
she won't let you rest
there's nothin' as nasty
as Park Ranger Hoese.

She's got a mean face
and a great big butt
she hunts down tourists
in her Ranger truck
she'll give you a ticket
if you wear a grin
she's more scarey than the drop
on the south side rim.
Wa-ooo.

If you are clean and sober
and you have a good time
she'll still breathalyse you
make you walk her line
if your record's clean
and you pass all her tests
she gets as mad as a skunk
with bad pms.

(v/o:"She'd call for back up if you farted in a forest"... "She's a bigger ass than a
canyon trail donkey" "now I know why them forests are petrified!")

She's got a mean face
wears her badge up front
I'd love to shove her tazer up
her crusty old ..........rock front
if you ever see her on the canyon rim
do us all a favor and push her in!