Nov 15, 2009

the maze I'm lost in

Externally I am a happy go lucky compassionate fairly well adjusted woman creeping up on 50 without too many hangups, a good job, a rather settled though still dysfunctional family, and an actively positive outlook on life. Though not religious per se I am religiously adamant about a person's right to follow the path they choose so long as the person does no harm on their trek through the wilderness of "what do I believe?".

I have been experiencing deja vu flashes and brushes with spirit my whole life. The incorporeal just seems closer to me on a day to day basis. I am continually querying what's wrong with me - as stop time images kick in for no reason, or I find myself stymied in mid-thought, sentence or deed. Granted I have worked my way through many of these but there are still those hangers on I can't seem to release.

Thanks to schmutzie who pointed me to BHJ where it was writ clear that perhaps it is my loose ends that are my life-us interruptus.

"It was that. That's what's wrong with me... it was that right there. That's the maze I'm lost in. I will never get over myself."
So here are some of my loose ends.

Being oldest. Not being a son. Mom hiding my blanky when we moved to Winnipeg. Moving to Winnipeg. The creepy Santa at Polo Park. Cora Lynn lost in history. Writing with my right hand. Dead hamster drowned in the toilet over christmas vacation. Not being allowed to play with Larry because he was hungarian. Smushed hornets nests, drowned but still covered in buzzy bits trying to save their babies. Daddy threatening to tie the kittens in a sack and toss them. Believing him. An invisible friend no one else could see or hear that got me into trouble ALL THE TIME.

Wanting to run away from home and never come back, then going back. The crusts on bread that would make hair grow on your chest, but never actually did. Being told I could be an astronaut if that`s what I wanted to be in grade 1. Missing the Winnipeg Centennial parade in which I was to twirl my baton because we were moving away from all of my friends. Gleefully bashing my sister with said baton when she whacked me with the broomstick. Moving to Fort Frances. Searching for a religion that fit me. Being too smart. Hearing my grade 5 math teacher tell me girls weren`t tough enough to be astronauts. `Pummelling my sisters back (supposed to be gently therapeutic) to loosen the phlegm from her bronchial-pneumonia and enjoying the pain it caused. Only getting a Skipper doll and never a Barbie with all those cool shoes and stuff. Being glad that it was my other sister that was scalded with boiling tea and not me. Feeling not-lonely in the graveyards. Smoking - anything. Stealing for the joy of it.

Moving to Brandon. People who visit me when they die (Grampa)and my mom pooh poohing the whole idea. Quitting catholicism in grade 6 because the priest refused to let me be an altar boy`and then being haunted that God would strike me dead.`Sleeping with a butter knife under my pillow because I wasn`t allowed to touch the sharp ones. Odd girl out. Grade six - only 2 girls had breasts and they called me Melons. My teacher stared at my shirts all the time. Being put in the accelerated reading, math and social studies classes and still being bored. Smoking pot with my lady teacher. Tripping over my dog who had so recently been hit by a car he was still warm.

Moving to Estevan and leaving no friends behind. Quitting christianity altogether for its hypocrisy in practice. Having sex so boys would like me and liking the sex more than the boy. Being evil to my mom on purpose. Divorce. high school - pick one there were several and I detested them all.

Ending up in Regina. Quitting school. My mom's boyfriends. Blow, I still smell it in my head. Choosing to settle in all of my intimate relationships. Watching someone die. Almost beating my children. Abandoning Vicious to the farm.


and then he asks "Did you ever just recognize somebody?". Hells yes. But rarely myself.