It’s Hallowe’en, All Hallows’ Eve, Samhain, however you want to think of it. It’s a night of the Veil being thin, and costumes, and often of reviewing the last year.
In my last year I have tried desperately to salvage something unhealthy for me, lost my dearest companion of sixteen years, finally come to terms with my Self and started to heal, started looking around again, found my core again, found a new job and a new house and had things starting to look up.
I also found someone who actually made me smile, and more deeply happy than I wanted to think about. And I didn’t know what I wanted, and went all over the place, and managed to screw it up. Badly. I really don’t have anyone to blame but myself; those who know me well know that I can connect with ANYONE if I want to. It’s a gift, a weapon, an oddity… whatever you want to call it, but I can do it without trying. And a disconnect was cited, and that… that was pure me. I knew I was putting up walls. I… *sigh* I screwed up, and it was because of rebound and other pain and not really knowing what I wanted and still healing, and instead of explaining I deliberately and consciously, with forethought and decision, put space and walls and missed frequencies. (If you can match anyone, you can MISmatch anyone.) And I’m stupid for it and sorry and it’s my own damn fault and can’t be fixed.
I guess it’s a good contrast; I thought that the failure of things past was me. This drove home that it wasn’t, because I have my own special brand of fucking up that’s unmistakeable. And while one of the benefits of being an attractive redhead is that I found an impressive someone delighted to soothe my ego and pride rather quickly*, I’m still hurting at the loss of someone I really liked as a person.
My focus now is on moving, and making my own space with my children, and moving forward with work. My lease starts tomorrow, and I’ll be moving in two surges with the first on Veteran’s Day.
I can take what I’ve learned now as a lesson, and forgive myself for not being able to make things work with my son’s father, and with my daughter’s father, and with someone between with whom I could happily have lived and loved and laughed for the next few centuries. It wasn’t me, and I genuinely did everything I could with them; the only fault was my choice of males. That’s weighed on me, trying to figure out what I did wrong, how I screwed up, how I kept screwing up, and I understand now that it wasn’t me. Because when it IS me, it’s obvious. So, forgiveness of self, and no longer castigating myself for wrongs I didn’t do.
This new cycle will start on a positive. I have an excellent job where I feel safe and happy and productive. I’m moving into a house that’s beautiful, welcoming, and will be a wonderfully happy home for myself and my children. And I will work on forgiving myself for the screwups I never did, and work on no longer seeing some aspects of myself as negative just because they overwhelm most people. Those aspects are why I need a hero-level consort, and that is not a bad thing. It just means that my baseline levels are so far into epic that only the extraordinary will do, which says some fairly interesting and mostly positive things about my true nature.
* “What’s the mating call of a blonde? ‘I’m so drunk!’ What’s the mating call of a redhead? ‘NEXT!'”
While not in the direct path of Sandy, I do live in one of the affected areas. Last night never quite got to touch and go, but it was a bit unnerving at times. The house I’m in now is fine; we lost power for all of ten seconds at one point, and the kids and I could feel the surge of it going out. About an hour before that I’d heard a transformer explode somewhere. Looking out the window, the only issues I see are a ton of leaves everywhere, a trash can lid blown off, and the big ball wedged into the swingset in the back yard. (The housemate got a swingset for the kids. I’m not sure he registers they’ll be gone in a couple of weeks.)
I need to run out today and check on my new house. It’s in a tree-lined neighborhood, so I want to make sure that it’s intact; my lease starts on the first, and I’d like to be able to start moving things in!
Schools were closed yesterday, and again today. I have a stir-crazy daughter, but we’ll run errands today and get some things taken care of. Part of her Hallowe’en costume is still pending/waiting on delivery, so I may have to find a substitute.
This isn’t really a true blog update; it’s more of a “hey, we’re okay” to folk who read and know about where I am. And we’re fine, truly.
The South Atlantic Anomaly annoyed me. It annoys many people, but flying LEO birds means that it really annoys me at times. So I investigated it.
It seems that it’s basically a spot where the magnetosphere is thinnest/weakest, so it pretty much nails everything that goes through it with unshielded Space — something that’s not particularly empty. One of the things I noted was that there are apparently much higher concentrations of antiprotons found in the area than would be expected.
I’ve seen proton storms and their effects on instruments. The shielding on the birds out at LaGrange Point 1 is fairly impressive, and it can’t protect things totally. Antiprotons… well, the interference looks… I can’t describe it, but I suspect that’s part of the problem.
Nothing we can do about the birds in the air, but anything future should have protonic shielding. Do we even have protonic shielding?
Proton + antiproton should mean energy production. Second stage of development, figure how to harness that energy. First stage, develop proton-heavy foil… so, basically foil of strongly positive ions. Hm. This will require a chemist, a physicist, and an engineer. Obviously it needs to be something that breaks down/evens out to something stable/harmless.
Why are we not doing this already? Chop chop, folks.
So very much has happened in the fortnight since I last wrote.
I’ve started the new job. I’m doing work I love, with wonderful and supportive and all-around fun and great coworkers, in an environment in which I’m not only allowed but encouraged to contribute and excel and explore projects, with a company that seems to be quite focused on making their employees happy and the workplace comfortable. Twelve-hour shifts aren’t onerous.
I went househunting, having decided that I want to be in at least a townhouse and that renting is my best bet for now. This weekend I will sign the lease on a lovely 3br single family home with a nice yard, garage, comfortable neighborhood with lots of other children, and in range of one of the two best public elementary schools in the county (that I didn’t know was there until the house popped up in a search that was outside my normal parameters.) I will move in fully the weekend after my daughter’s birthday — and she’s delighted, as she went with me and strongly approved the house. This is important to me, as she will be living there as well. The owner of the house was absolutely delighted when I asked if it’s okay to plant flowers and a garden, and said he strongly encourages it. He’s also fine with the idea of a hot tub… and pointed out where he’d always thought of putting one.
I have access to the best medical insurance I’ve ever seen in my life, and will be utilizing it fully. Doctor, dentist, chiropractor… we’ll see how necessary a therapist is once my body’s in shape and my anxiety feedback loops are under control.
I am… close to content. After the move, when I am in my own house and my daughter is in a better, less-crowded school, I think that I will be fully content. I’m already happier than I have been in a very long time; I’m getting my power back.
I am returning to me.
Somehow, some way, I’m undoing the damage of years of negativity, of pain, of hell.
I can see glimpses of my Self, finally. I’ve felt it before; recently there have been times when I could feel the core of power, of strength, humming through me. Others in my past have indicated that they can see or sense it somehow, and they seem to do their best to stay with me through the years, and to seek me out if they lose touch. When I was sixteen, someone met me and described it as an incredible huge column of pure light and peace and calm, and she sort of… relaxed. Totally, like a cat in a sunbeam but more so. She didn’t want to leave my presence at all.
I got a glimpse of it tonight. There’s a wellspring of joy, pure, unadulterated joy and hope. My synaesthesia causes me to perceive it as strong, pure, white luminescence with gold and silver lowlights bubbling like water and spilling out; I’d need the help of excellent CGI to reproduce it in a way others could see. If you subscribe to the belief in ley lines, it’s like I’m walking around with a pure, untainted one in me.
Part of it is helped by being, soon, in a position I want and need to be in, that of supporting my little family and having my own household. But part of it is just pure Me, what’s been there all along, all my life. And part has been helped by someone who is totally unaware; they haven’t even really done anything, but every time I’m around them I come away feeling stronger, surer, and more confident in and at peace with myself. Closer to that core (Core?), that Center, that is Me. A friend who saw me a month or so ago told me that for the first time in the decade he’s known me, I’m smiling with my eyes.
This is good. And this person… they’re not doing anything, particularly, that I know of. I just feel happier after being around them, and now it seems to have taken on its own momentum and my Self is finally accessible, perceptible, to me. They’re a romantic prospect… and while yes, there’s always the hope that things work out because that’s wonderful and happy, it’s okay if it doesn’t (though I hope that it does.) Something about them was a key, somehow, to unlocking Me. I don’t know if they read this, but if they do, well, everyone needs a hero… sometimes just to show them who they are, just by existing. And maybe our lives were just supposed to cross enough to unlock this, or maybe this is the start of something else, and either is okay. And I hope that I have a similar effect on them.
It’s like stepping into a psychic regeneration tank. Scars and calluses and wrinkles and pain are reversing. It won’t be constant, and it won’t be overnight, but the joy and hope and love that are the core of Me are there, I can see them now, and I know they won’t go away.
I dreamed last night of a man.
He was tall, and handsome, and dark, and charismatic, with an amazing smile. And we were friends, and sometime lovers. And I woke up one morning to see that he’d dropped me on Facebook (funny how that sneaks into things, isn’t it?) And he said he couldn’t talk to me, and when I asked him why he said he had handlers now who wouldn’t let him.
I don’t remember the middle of the dream, but I do remember at the end things working out and we were together, and the dream ended with us standing together, him behind me holding me and me leaning into his chest smiling up at him and his family standing by looking on in approval.
I realised at some point that the man was a conflation of several from my past; the computer wizard rocket scientist, the fencing ballroom dancing former model rocket scientist, the biker, a flavor of one of the NSA flirtations… at the end, though, he collapsed down to someone else who wasn’t them. I recognized the face. (The family, oddly, looked more like they were related to the computer genius rocket scientist, but wouldn’t match his family. Who knows.) (Yes, I collected rocket scientists for a while.)
My suspicion is that my brain is informing me that I have an abandonment complex, which I already knew; it’s part of why I’m determined to be self-sufficient (and in a few months will be doing nicely at it, thankyouverymuch.) I’m guessing it’s also telling me that a lot of the good qualities I loved about those men are actually present in the person who was there at the end; that remains to be seen. As does whether that person will actually be there.
Who knows. I’m somewhat annoyed because I really don’t have time for this right now; I have childcare to arrange, a new job to prep for (and in fact will be scouting the route in traffic and bad weather today, since I’d rather have a generous estimate to avoid ever being late) and packing to do if I intend to move around the second half of November. I don’t have time for romantic confusion. (To be honest, I’d really prefer to either be totally single or to have an actual boyfriend I don’t have to share right now. The in-between stuff ends up distracting me too much because I don’t know where I stand and I fret.) I could just ignore it, but if my brain has started throwing dreams at me (this isn’t the first or even second time in the last month) it needs to be dealt with. (This is what happens when a cynical engineer dates. I really should write that damn manual.)