Nothing Much to Tell You...
If you know your King's X, then you'll know from where I got the title for this blog. You'll also know from where I got the title of this particular entry. They've been in my head recently, especially Ty's solo album, Safety, since it's all about his divorce and whatnot. So there's nothing much to tell you, but there's so much on my mind. But unlike Doug, I can't put this pencil down.
Mostly because I started this damn blog with Kelly and feel bound to write something. The problem right now is that I have so fucking much to say and not enough hours in the day to say it. The kids get in the way, mostly. They just drain your energy. By the time I get them to bed and do my nightly exercises I'm ready to hit the hay. I tried bringing my laptop downstairs to type while I watch them but they just are too young to be left to their own devices right now. And they're so noisy! And I can't pawn them off on people all the time; they are my responsibility when Ann is not around.
And speaking of my estranged wife, we went to a wedding yesterday. Her cousin got married. It was a beautiful ceremony. I hope Ann was paying attention to the preacher. He did a good job of stressing the solemnity of the wedding vows and how they are to be kept until death and it's a sacred bond not to be taken lightly and how the couple will have to endure all kinds of sorrows and happy times together and trials and tribulations will come but that the couple needs to look back on this day when they vowed to love each other and how that should be the focus--the promise to endure all through thick and thin through sickness and health. We all know this stuff but how seriously do we take it? For too many of us, I fear, these vows are just hoops to jump through. I know when Ann and I got married we didn't have a traditional ceremony and to her I guess that meant it wasn't all that important because she told me the other day we did it all wrong. I agreed with her in some ways, but I took it all very seriously, even if I didn't show it too much afterward. You see, I have--or I should say I had--this thing for not showing emotion. I always took foolish pride in my stoicism and used it as a crutch. It was all fear-based, though, and a means to stay in control or power because in my twisted and warped worldview showing no emotion meant showing no weakness meant being in control meant being in power meant protecting my ego meant security for the scared child I was but didn't want to admit--hence the elaborate defensive mechanism. We all do this. You do it and so do I. But now I am fighting that as much as I can.
I fucking cut my hair. That should be proof enough. I kept my hair long and swore I would never cut it because I was never going to sell out and let The Man bring me down. But the truth was I was keeping it long out of pride, and this was affecting my relationship with God and to some extent Ann. So when I was out in California I almost cut it. I had the scissors in my hand and everything. But the people I was with convinced me that this would be out of fear, so I kept it long. Not even a week later, though, I found myself in a salon getting it chopped off--all eleven inches--because I thought I was going to get a job as a teacher. But it was not meant to be. But the cutting of the hair was meant to be because it showed me that I am now beyond all fear. If I can cut me hair and live to tell the tale, I can go through a divorce and move on. Will I like it--no. Will I endure it bravely--yes. And if you are reading this and laughing and saying, "It's just hair," then you just cannot understand the symbolism. My hair was my identity. It was me. The day it got cut off symbolized and consummated the old Tom dying. I will now live in the trust. No more fear as much as it is in my power. Nothing will bring me back to those days of living in fear and walling myself up, shutting myself off from the world. Will I still be moody--Yes. Will I still be aloof sometimes--Yes. Will I still mask some of my emotions--Yes. I am only human. All I can do is realize it more and more and apologize and ask forgiveness and move on and try harder the next time. And after a while I won't be saying I'm sorry so much anymore because the more you do something the more habitual it becomes. Pretty soon I'll be a pro at this showing feelings and talking thing--this whole living in trust thing, this whole love thing.
And man do I have more to say. But I have this book I'm trying to write and I need to get more than a few sentences a day done. I'm signing off to go do some research now, and maybe I'll get some words down, but for tonight I just want to get some research done.
...But there's so much on my mind. Guess I'll put this pencil down, sincerely your friend, I.
Mostly because I started this damn blog with Kelly and feel bound to write something. The problem right now is that I have so fucking much to say and not enough hours in the day to say it. The kids get in the way, mostly. They just drain your energy. By the time I get them to bed and do my nightly exercises I'm ready to hit the hay. I tried bringing my laptop downstairs to type while I watch them but they just are too young to be left to their own devices right now. And they're so noisy! And I can't pawn them off on people all the time; they are my responsibility when Ann is not around.
And speaking of my estranged wife, we went to a wedding yesterday. Her cousin got married. It was a beautiful ceremony. I hope Ann was paying attention to the preacher. He did a good job of stressing the solemnity of the wedding vows and how they are to be kept until death and it's a sacred bond not to be taken lightly and how the couple will have to endure all kinds of sorrows and happy times together and trials and tribulations will come but that the couple needs to look back on this day when they vowed to love each other and how that should be the focus--the promise to endure all through thick and thin through sickness and health. We all know this stuff but how seriously do we take it? For too many of us, I fear, these vows are just hoops to jump through. I know when Ann and I got married we didn't have a traditional ceremony and to her I guess that meant it wasn't all that important because she told me the other day we did it all wrong. I agreed with her in some ways, but I took it all very seriously, even if I didn't show it too much afterward. You see, I have--or I should say I had--this thing for not showing emotion. I always took foolish pride in my stoicism and used it as a crutch. It was all fear-based, though, and a means to stay in control or power because in my twisted and warped worldview showing no emotion meant showing no weakness meant being in control meant being in power meant protecting my ego meant security for the scared child I was but didn't want to admit--hence the elaborate defensive mechanism. We all do this. You do it and so do I. But now I am fighting that as much as I can.
I fucking cut my hair. That should be proof enough. I kept my hair long and swore I would never cut it because I was never going to sell out and let The Man bring me down. But the truth was I was keeping it long out of pride, and this was affecting my relationship with God and to some extent Ann. So when I was out in California I almost cut it. I had the scissors in my hand and everything. But the people I was with convinced me that this would be out of fear, so I kept it long. Not even a week later, though, I found myself in a salon getting it chopped off--all eleven inches--because I thought I was going to get a job as a teacher. But it was not meant to be. But the cutting of the hair was meant to be because it showed me that I am now beyond all fear. If I can cut me hair and live to tell the tale, I can go through a divorce and move on. Will I like it--no. Will I endure it bravely--yes. And if you are reading this and laughing and saying, "It's just hair," then you just cannot understand the symbolism. My hair was my identity. It was me. The day it got cut off symbolized and consummated the old Tom dying. I will now live in the trust. No more fear as much as it is in my power. Nothing will bring me back to those days of living in fear and walling myself up, shutting myself off from the world. Will I still be moody--Yes. Will I still be aloof sometimes--Yes. Will I still mask some of my emotions--Yes. I am only human. All I can do is realize it more and more and apologize and ask forgiveness and move on and try harder the next time. And after a while I won't be saying I'm sorry so much anymore because the more you do something the more habitual it becomes. Pretty soon I'll be a pro at this showing feelings and talking thing--this whole living in trust thing, this whole love thing.
And man do I have more to say. But I have this book I'm trying to write and I need to get more than a few sentences a day done. I'm signing off to go do some research now, and maybe I'll get some words down, but for tonight I just want to get some research done.
...But there's so much on my mind. Guess I'll put this pencil down, sincerely your friend, I.
posted by terriamachine | 9:15 PM
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