Sweet solitude.
Image: Paul Anderson, photographer extraordinair.
I woke to the hangover— of sadness, anxiety, dark feelings that pulled me into sleep last night… after hours of sitting alone watching the bay. The reasons are personal, they don’t matter in the big picture. What matters is how easily I fall into a hole when the world starts to pile too high for me. When I work so hard to smile and be funny, to fix it and figure it out, and make it all look ok, when it’s not—it’s no wonder I crash. And burn. I drive off in my car, me and Peter Gabriel. Where is the resolution? Where are the thousand churches? I sit and watch the full moon shine in our crystal night. The rainbow glow around it gives me hope, for a while.
I woke to puffy eyes and a worn expression. Avoiding mirrors. I woke too early, having gone to bed too late. I tried to sleep some more, but the same thoughts that drove me off to solitude last night assault me in bed as well. I curl up tighter and push the thoughts away, but they are stronger than me—at times like this. I am lost in the confusion of what to do. What to do with big things. I turn it all on myself and go from blue to black and back to blue again. Turning every slight, every insensitive word, each turn of a meaningless phrase, each misunderstanding and slip of a tongue— into a lash of self loathing, regret, remorse, longing. It sucks me down like quicksand, suffocating. Blinding flashes that leave me frozen and staring at the bay, long into the night.
My car is always the place I go first. My music is there. My solitude. The lights of the dash and the warm seats bring comfort. It is a cocoon that is all mine. If I could, I would drive and drive, and drive some more, with my music blaring and the windows down. But it would not be safe, when I am black and blue. So I sit in my car; always the first place I go. Last night, I went to the movies next. Foolish me; I never read Tolstoy. I went to see Anna Karenina. The theater was mostly empty, perfect. The movie was beautiful, stunning even. The cinematography swept me away from my dark thoughts. The magic of the production and the rich imagery helped me forget for a while. I was transfixed by everything on the screen, and began to think that perhaps I would go home and read this great book., finally. It suited me, helping me escape for a while, but I didn’t know the ending. I won’t ruin it for others, but it is not an ending for someone in the black, or the blue. I left and drove back to the bay.
The water at night is always so mesmerizing. Lights from the city and across the islands twinkle and reflect. The full moon shimmers across the surface. The added holiday lights are so beautiful this time of year. If not for the lights of the passing cars, it would be perfect. Scared to death by two stupid slasher films, in my youth, I am not one to park in isolated lonely places. I park where someone can hear me, if I need them to. The drawback are the cars. My twisty turny brain can only think: will they see me here, crying? Will they recognize me? Then they’ll know.
Eventually I go home. I always do. I slink back in, unwilling, unwanting, resenting the inevitable questions… words, words, words. Words are my friend when I write them; words slash me, spoken by others. “Where have you been? Are you ok? I’m sorry. You misunderstood…” You got it wrong, again. I only want silence. I lay in my bed and try to quiet my battering thoughts. I wake hungover; still black and blue today.
TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND 
So sorry to hear you’re in the blues and the blacks. Hope more colors emerge soon. I clicked the ‘like’ button only for the beauty of the post, not because I like you being sad. 😦
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Thanks Carrie. Short on words today, but much appreciated.
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Crap. I’m sorry you’re feeling like you’re in a hole, Dawn. That feeling you describe so perfectly, I know all too well. Maybe it will make you smile if I tell you that I stupidly saw Anna Karenina, too. Beautiful cinematography, but the ending… um… what’s wrong with us? Ha!
Despite my fragile state, I’m here for you in any capacity – just know that I’m in a hole nearby and I can hear you playing Peter Gabriel. We can practically wave to each other. 🙂
Battering thoughts. I get it. I’m sorry. I wish you could unplug your head for a little while and get some rest. “When I work so hard to smile and be funny, to fix it and figure it out, and make it all look ok, when it’s not – it’s no wonder I crash.” I share this feeling. It feels sort of tragic when we take a tumble because it’s not our usual role. It’s hard for me to surrender to feeling like crap when I’m so used to figuring things out.
Rest you’re head, my beautiful friend. Let it go. Let the current carry you where it will. Just float for awhile. No pressure. I’m thinking of you and sending you positive and peaceful thoughts.
All my love,
Lisa
xoxo
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Wow. Thanks Lisa… deeply appreciated. It’s like an undertow, you have to surrender and drift, or you drown. I’m trying not to thrash. Wordless today. Thanks.
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OK I’ll friend you. Instead of reading Anna Karenina try Lady Chatterly’s Lover you’ll never think of crisis the same way again! Turn your funk into Funkadelic-Good thoughts, Bad thoughts.
A better year is a coming. XXXOOO
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Thanks Me. I appreciate the thoughts. Looking forward to a new year.
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Oh, my! Just realized who me are. Makes my day!! xoxo
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Hi Dawn. One of the gifts you have is speaking emotional truth for the rest of us, showing your dimensionality instead of standing there flat like a cardboard cut-out of a person. In this entry, you are facing the dark stuff head on, which gives me hope as I need to do that myself. Thanks for showing me how, beautiful lady. Keep writing! Much love.
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Thanks Susan. I’ve hesitated for a long time to put this to words. This morning, it helped me get out of bed. Your friendship has been inspiring. I look forward to more time in 2013. xo
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phew, a piece just like i was talking about today. very, very moving. surprising, yet so universal. beautifully, beautifully written. much love, sm
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Thanks Mom. Feeling a little naked right now, but overall, glad I got it out in words.
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naked in the writing is good, me thinks. xoxo
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🙂
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Lovely, sad words that I don’t have the strength to write myself. Thanks, Dawn. :’)
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Oh, there are no words… when I think of you. And I do that often. Hugs, and healing. Though the word healing seems limited, facing some things in life. Know that I feel inadequate each time I try to reach out to you. I know how broken your heart is.
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Deep. Moving. Tortured. I feel for you. Amazing writing.
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Thanks Mariner. Short on words today. Thanks.
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Me too. I’m at mom’s house. So empty and weird with her gone.
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So sorry for your loss… and I know what a very hard job that is: clearing and settling things. Peace to you.
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Love you, Dawn. Beautiful writing! Breathe…..
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Thank you. Breathing. For the most part. 😉
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Moving and raw; feel better! Only great things for 2013!
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Thanks Lisa. It’s been a fun year working with you. Yes, more in 2013.
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This is very personal to me. I can feel every word, because I experience the same type of experience often. Even though it has the dark welling beneath, it’s very beautiful. Well written.
When I read this, I saw Miriam in my mind — a good friend of mine on WordPress. Seeing her means that I have to connect the two of you. I know. It’s weird. But I listen to those things when they come to me…
She’s an amazing person. You two are very similar.
http://lifeandothertales.wordpress.com/
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Thanks Adam. Glad we’ve “met,” and appreciate your feedback. I follow hunches too, so happy to connect with Miriam. Short on words today, but that doesn’t usually last long… if you check out some of my other posts, you’ll see that I’m rarely brief. 😉 Thanks for the support.
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You’re welcome, and same here. You guess will understand each other quickly. She’s awesome.
Pull through! There are many bright days ahead.
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Thanks. I will. Just a stumble, not a real fall. A tough stumble, but nothing broken. Metaphor, gotta love it.
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I’m a master of the metaphor…
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You may have met your match darlin’. 😉 Have a good night.
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ah, you’re the best! heh.
yep i know… just gave you an ego boost…
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Thanks; not feeling my best today, but certainly appreciate the nice feedback. 🙂 Thanks for taking the time!
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Thanks Miriam. Not exactly feeling my best today, but appreciate that this post resonated with you. Thanks for stopping by!
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Thanks for the introduction Adam. I’m really enjoying Miriam’s posts. I listen to the “messages” that come to me too, so I’m glad that we found each other and follow our instincts. I’d also like to follow you on twitter. I just got started there (slow on the tech uptake!). What’s your twitter address? Or is that not connected to your blog? I just added a Twitter follow link to my blog. Again, slow… 😉
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I’m glad that you guys could connect. I think you’ll get along just fine. My twitter handle is: @ASendek
Believe me, I’m playing catch-up, myself…
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A day in the Big Top is enough to set you back a few days… all those responses! BTW: your “acceptance post” was one of my very favorite. Exactly how I feel there. Brilliantly written and funny.
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Awesome! Thank you. I had a lot of fun with it. I mentioned to someone on the thread that all of the best writers/bloggers visit Le Clown. It’s true. I’ve met probably half of the people I know on here through his page. He’s got a knack for talent. Am I tooting my own horn, here? Maybe a little. \M/
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Toot away! 😉 He has made an amazing place to see and be seen… I enjoy following along. I can’t keep up with all the wit and snark, some days. I get bruised too easily, when I’m in the down low… but overall, highly amusing. And yes, to further toot your horn: he has introduced me to some wonderful talent. Toot.
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Found it; just started following. My tweets are boring for now (did the Heifer fundraiser, not much more), but I plan to be very clever in the near future. 😉
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I’ll keep an eye out for future cleverness
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so restless… i feel you.
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Thanks Miriam. I’ll check out your posts tomorrow… Glad Adam threw us together. 😉
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yes, happy to meet you… i saw Adam already threw my story blog address on here – if you’re ever up for some poetry, here’s my other one: http://anotherwanderingsoul.wordpress.com/
(hope you don’t mind me pasting the address in here – i wish wordpress had personal mesages!)
it seems we have a ton of ‘thought patterns’ in common… 😉 gonna dive into your blog now – really nice to meet you!
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Hey… if you’re going to hang out in #25 with me, you’re going to have to pitch in. so think about this haiku, then write me a second verse.
Am I two trowels?
ditch- digging and brick- laying
Ever asking ‘now which’?
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Have no idea what the #25 is, so I probably won’t make the cut… but, I do like me some Haiku.
Do I have a clue?
No fork or knife needed here
Paninis for all
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I’m so sorry you’re going through this but I am relieved to know why I couldn’t reach you yesterday. Your writing is so relatable, so clear. Thank you for writing how so many people feel and need the words to describe it. I’m at an infusion til 3:30 but am free for you after that if I can help.
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Thanks V. No, I’m not feeling terribly chatty, but thanks. I appreciate your support, and kind words. Thanks for taking the time to read this post. 🙂
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I hope today is a little brighter. I have also felt this way and it can be frightening when the dark side surfaces and one feels powerless to stop it. It’s a tough place to be. And to feel the pain. It takes a lot of courage to bare all and be so open. You are not alone. I’m available to just be a presence and watch the waves go in and out (I find that soothing).
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Thanks for the kind support Maryanne. I know that lots of other people go through similar things. I suppose I have mixed feelings about having written this, but what’s done… is done.
Thanks for sharing.
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You’re wrong. THIS is powerful.
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I’m not wrong often. There’s room for more than one of us. 😉
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Haha yes, the kingdom of black and blue unite.
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Indeed… Quack.
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Welcome! Thank you for subscribing to follow my blog. I hope you are encouraged, inspired and enjoy the photos I take of life’s events as seen through the lens of my camera.
BE ENCOURAGED! BE BLESSED!
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Thanks for stopping by my blog, as well. I am enjoying your photos and posts so far. I generally don’t “subscribe” until I’ve perused, explored for a while, but I enjoyed the first few posts I saw and decided I’d jump in.
Happy New Year!
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Pingback: Blogs of the Week (Post 28) | Sweet Mother
Thanks Sweet Mother. I am truly honored to be featured in your Blogs of the Week. Thank you Mom!
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Reblogged this on The Huntington's Chronicles.
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