Saturday, September 17, 2016

Ugly and Getting Old

I thought that if I wrote this post that maybe someone out there may read it because they feel the same way and perhaps, that commonality will let us know we are not alone.

I no longer look in the mirror, nor wear make up, nor care about the veins on my face (I have transulcent skin) or the sagging skin, the bald spots of the alopecia, the stomach that I cannot get rid of, the fatigue, the nights of 2 hours of sleep.

I stopped going out unless it was to travel to work and back home, no events, no shopping centres, no dinners, no celebrations, it just all stopped.

My closet is now a bare minimum of a few pairs of pants (mostly black) and whatever top that will be baggy enough to cover things up, I also wear my zip up jacket in order to cover my arms, I wear it at work, even if I am in the office. More coverage is better.

Sometimes when I wash my hair, my hands are full of clumps of hair that fall out, I used to cry but I stopped doing that too.

I became sick after caring for several people in my family who aged and then got sick, then died. It was a 24/7 job dealing with horrible situations with other family members who refused to help. I tried to hold down my job while taking calls sometimes upwards of 30 or more per day dealing with high-maintenance personalities. I gave up being engaged, the man left me and moved away. He'd asked me to live with him but I could not leave my family obligations.

I lost my home, I live in a room now. In my mid fifties makes me feel ashamed at how I have to live. I have nothing left. I stopped believing in anything when I was assaulted as a child and then as a young woman and then a full grown woman by a man.  I am sure that all men are not like that but  my days of trusting and loving are all gone.  I have no interest whatsoever. I lost that about 10 years ago and it never came back. I just did not have the energy any longer, and the thought of having to take care of more people, well, I did not have it left in me.

Now I spend my time hoping for the end, just not to be a burden on anyone and die peacefully and not homeless. That is my fear, I have been there as a child and a teenager, it was terrifying. Now that I am older, I do not know what that will mean for me, once I can no longer afford to live in my room.

What I find horrible is that people try to push "faith" on me, "have faith" they say, or "this is happening to you because you did something bad in your past life" (karma). There was no god while I was being assaulted, there was no one there to pull the man off of me as a child, there was no stopping the rapings or beatings that I got. It was just an endless circle of abuse fueled by the confines of upbringing and told to turn the other check coupled with family telling me that I had better take the offer of marriage because no one will want you, you'll be lucky if someone wants you. It is not the ideal way to bring up a child, but that is how it was and you had to make the best of your situation.

No one believes you when you tell them your ex husband came after you when you are divorced for 20 years, but that happened, it was violent. Do you think anyone believed me before? No. Did they believe me now, I don't know as I did not tell anyone. My life is myriad of people pleasing to the point of losing your own self and your own mind.

That is where the ugly is. It is a cumulative effect of all the devastation in my own life. I am unattractive to the point that I have been the target of humiliating experiences, which included publicly being laughed at or made fun of and exclusion. I would suppose being poor also does not help ones appearance but what can you do with the poor health that goes with that. 

Monday, January 18, 2016

My Influences Are Getting Their Wings and I Hate It.

The beginning of 2016 did not bring me even one thought of anything hopeful and yet, nothing the opposite. In fact, it seem like Christmas was very quiet and the transition into New Years had no effect. There was no change, no dreams no well, anything.  I had no idea of how much the world was going to exhale and let go the souls that had influenced me, they were part of my life although we never met.

They would come and go, like breezes when moments required and were dedicated to have have meaning to me.  I speak of all those musicians and artists. It started with Lemmy Kilmister; David Bowie; Alan Richman; and today Glenn Frey.  These people who had impact on me, were suddenly gone. I did not know they were sick.  I would say that rightly so, being ill is a private matter and a family matter. No one, especially those that are in the limelight should have to give any energy to paparazzi or anything else that detracts from either them getting better or them sharing their last years with their families and friends.

I can respect that so this is the only way I know how to express their impact and my sadness at their passing.  The moments when Bowie's music would echo down a hallway, at a dance or Glen's voice letting me know that the heartbreak I felt would pass, that I could get through this and that life, well even though you think you are going to stay here, everyone gets to leave.  I felt danger with Lemmy and dug the intense smashing of notes that was like a pile-driver on a pin. I could feel anything and everything with the music these people created and shared. I know they did not do this alone, and there is many, many more that have gone with them this week so my respects to all of those that have transitioned.

As far as Alan Richman, he gave 150% to a  character , whether this was in live theatre or movies. His twists and nuances were like watching an orchestra play. An intense actor who seemed to say practice makes perfect and that the roles he took on, seemed tailored to him. Was there anything he could not portray? Probably not.

I will take my music, my movies and my memories of how all these artists intertwined with my life and hold them close to my heart. This is the only place where they are safe, where they live over and over again. Till I am not here and they will go with me.

To the world, please stop. I can only have so many heartbreaks in life, the human race generally gives me more than enough on a day to day basis with the way they treat each other, so maybe we could keep the ones that do not? What do you think?

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Margaret and Her Magical Garden

I once new a Margaret, quirky, conservatively dressed yet she had that Emma Peel/Avenger thing going on. No, not the catsuits. Although, if anyone could have pulled it off, it would have been her.

One day I came to work, exhausted from caring for my Father and the 3 hours a night sleep, the 40 phone calls a day, I was sinking.  When I came around the corner; and immediately settled into my cubicle, pulling off my jacket and hanging it up. There it was right in front of my face, a lovely photo of a country home garden with an arbor was taped up onto my cubby. I just stared at it, it gave me a moment to sigh and exhale. Before I could even imagine who would have placed such a lovely picture for me to see, there she was. It was Margaret. This time her usually closed lips had opened and a bright and enchanting smile flashed my way.

Margaret had had a lot of shoulder problems, she was always stretching to try to fix it so the discomfort would go away. She mentioned her doctor had sent her for physiotherapy, and I watched her for days trying out this way to move her upper arms so her shoulder would not hurt.  Not too long after Margaret had placed that garden picture at my desk, she suddenly walked right up to me and said: "Can I ask you something?"..I shrugged and said "sure".  She looked me straight in the eye and out it came: "am I going to die?".  I was perplexed and shocked. It was such an odd question and I had no idea how to really respond other than, "of course not".  And we left it at that.  Two days later, I had to take a leave of absence. I was gone for almost 6 months. When I returned, I stared at the empty cubicle across from me. No signs of Margaret and then I asked a coworker where was she? Did she move? Did she go to another floor? No. In fact, she was there one day and then gone. No news, no reason, no one knows anything.  It was odd.  A few months later is when I found out. Margaret had breast cancer, that is why she had so much pain in her shoulder. It was aggressive. I attempted to reach out for the next 2 years, putting out feelers and mentioning to one mutual friend that I would do anything to help and to please let Margaret know. Even that friend said she had minimal knowledge and it seemed that Margaret no longer wanted contact with those people at work. I felt terrible. She was bold, she was unique and I always felt that her and I were both on the outside, but together.

Another year passed and then the message came. Margaret had passed away. I sat at my desk and cried.

Where ever you are, Margaret, may you always know that I adored you. You are one of those people that made my day pass quickly, you brought light in when it was dark. Thank you.