Standing Beside Myself

I wake up with songs in my head and finally I'm listening to them and here's what happens...

My body stirs ever so slightly and through the lids of my still closed eyes I can sense the morning light around me. I hear "it's just another sad love song, racking my heart like crazy" and hear the harmony and melodic alto of Toni Braxton. I slowly begin opening my eyes and the word disgust fills my mind.

Toni is no longer singing and my eyes are open and this thought comes rushing out.

What is she singing about? Another sad love song, loves songs are about being sad? Really, cause I don't think so. Each and everyone of us experiences unconditional love when we wake up each morning (and hey, by the way you woke up didn't you this morning, then you've experienced it) then love is not bad. Bad love songs, yes, but sad love and song together, NO FREAKIN WAY. That thought leaves as quickly as it came and is replace with . . .

. . .

. . .

yeah I got crickets on the brain. And the echo of the ghost of the melody of a song becomes background noise and doesn't go away. (Even now as I type this many hours later.)

Then my body reminds me it is awake and has desires, you know like peeing and moving around.

The hyperactive dog stirs, jumps off the bed in anticipation of petting and playing and I roll over and stretch myself out from under the cover. The 40 degree air is my first morning shot of high octane espresso.

I'm up and my bodies routine takes over while the echo of "And it's all because of yoooooouuuuuuuuuu" merges more deeply into the soundtrack of my day.

My day begins, melody still echoing, body in routine, mind still waking up.

Computer on, coffee made, dogs out, treats in bowl, fresh water, wash face, brush teeth, sit down in front of the computer and focus eyes on the screen while sipping fresh coffee.

Time passes.

I run my morning errands, I'm driving home and a song comes on the radio, grabbing my attention.

Oh so now "I'm not gonna cry, cuz you're not worth my tears," croons Mary J. Blige and I'm realizing, this entire song is about a relationship in which the woman gives up herself, her dreams, her desires, her independence, her perspectives, her emotional life.

Oh wait, shit, that's me and my relationship with me.

It's a song about how once she has I have given all that up for the man some love and how he I no longer respect her myself and leave her myself feeling disgusted and disgusting standing there, damned if she I fight him with myself for all she's I'm worth because he'll I'll either use an excuse saying, I didn't make you give up anything, you chose to do that, I didn't force you. You could have said no . . .

. . . gahhhh no wonder disgust fills me for me.

I disgust me and when the disgusting, disgusted me tries to give myself things like self-care, self-acceptance, self-love, gentleness or compassion I think I am trying to get myself to do something which sounds, feels and appears to be foreign, unpleasant, manipulative and exploitative.

Wow, I'm hiding the essence of me from myself because I'll only exploit the essence of me and manipulate the essence of me to get what I want from myself.

Okay now I'm perfectly freaked out because that revelation didn't really hit me until I typed that sentence.

I'm not sure I want to process any of that, yet the walls surround me on three sides and the only opening is behind me. I don't want to assume anything about what is behind me, yet I'm afraid to look there, to step back or to turn around.

Then I remember something I read last night from Dawna Markova's "No Enemies Within" about being curious, "Take yourself for a walk - your hurting self, your shadow self, [your disgusting, disgusted self], your internal enemy . . . Pretend it is next to you instead of inside of you, or in front of you . . . I'm not asking you to have a major relationship at this point. Just make space enough inside your mind to be curious." pg 234

So that is my intent. I'll be back.