It took me a long time to share my last post, The Long Road Back, on my blog. See, there’s a monster in my head. Not the depersonalization. No, thankfully, Michael (my counselor) and I have worked out that depersonalization is on the retreat for now.
This? This is something stronger. Read Monster in My Head
I seem to be crying a lot in counseling lately.
Yesterday’s session gravitated first around my frustration and anger with the New Zealand Qualifications Authority (NZQA) and their seemingly unrelenting one-eyed behaviour towards me and our organisation.
Read Lost and Found
There’s a Sheryl Crow duet with Sting where she sings the lyric, “Every now and then, you come to mind.” It’s a sad song, a song about lovers who once knew one another and now no longer talk or see one another.
The song speaks to the core of me. A common theme throughout my life is that I don’t let go of things easily for whatever reason. My counselor told me last session that I am a compassionate person. My mother tells me I care very deeply. Other people will tell you I am a humanist, or I am emotional, or I am giving. I guess these all are true.
It swings me back to The Man I Loved. Late last year, I did the whole “Lot’s Wife” thing and turned back. One night, a horrible dream came to me where he was very upset and crying like his world was caving in on him. The dream was one of those very vivid dreams, which, in my life, has always meant there is a message or I need to do something. In this case, I sat on it all day and arrived at the conclusion he was in pain. It was his soul reaching out for help.
Read Every Now and Then, You Come to Mind
Around 25 years ago, in late August 1992, I started college (erm, university for you British English speakers out there). It’s a right-of-passage many Americans go through every year when they’re 18, and I’m sure there are many stories about how that first year went for a great many people. Maybe my experience was unique, but I’m pretty sure it’s not.
What I can tell you is I remember my Mom crying when I started college at Northern Illinois University. My excitement due to my freedom was tempered by how upset she was. Being the very anxious person I was and continue to be, I wondered if I’d made the right choice. As an aside: my counselor keeps telling me I do things to please other people instead of myself, and I’m not living my life authentically if I keep doing this. On the other side of this argument, I stayed at college because it was what I wanted, even though it did hurt my mother initially (and maybe it was more of a, “Oh my God, my oldest son is 18 and leaving home and I can’t protect him any more”, which I understand but I’ve never been through so I can’t compare that experience to my own experiences).
Sorry. I digress. You should be used to that by now if you read any of my blogs.
Read 25 Years Ago(-ish), I Started College
I speak with my Mom every week to every two weeks. Living on opposite sides of the world is hard, but it’s a little bit easier with the invention of Skype and FaceTime, WhatsApp and Apple Messenger, Instagram and Facebook. Communication is so much easier now than it was when I first moved to New Zealand 20 years ago.
Anyway. My Mom has been talking about getting a tattoo. We’ve had this discussion a few times over the last few years: what type of tattoo would she get; where she would get it on her body; how big it would be; and so on. It was something on her bucket list of things she wanted to do. And, of course, I love her, so anything she wants to do, I support 100%.
Read What Type of Tattoo Would I Get? My Mom Got One…
So I’m usually one of the first people to say something about a tragedy like the one at Pulse in Orlando, but it has left me shocked, and upset, and flabbergasted. There’s a fatigue that’s overwhelming me. America, we keep having this conversation, but there’s never a proper conclusion to it. How many more deaths do there need to be until the lawmakers finally do something? The worst mass shooting in America, in the LGBTI community nonetheless, but will something finally be done to curb or, dare I hope, stop these insane mass shootings from continuing? When will a “live-and-let-live”, tolerant attitude prevail over this “them-versus-us”, eye-for-an-eye, backward-thinking, blind hatred? I pray a solution, and common sense, prevail. I pray for peace and tolerance. I pray for Orlando and America. And I pray for all those injured and killed, and their families and loved ones. Life is short; be happy and love! #PrayforOrlando