he is my heroin

all it takes is one word
my heart heaves
my mind floods
everything disappears

legs are wobbly
dreams forgotten
each breath labored
craving another word

every moment tainted
with what could be
nothing fills the void
i try everything

tainted blood
tainted breath
once hope breathes
all is lost again

History puts a saint in every dream

There was a time I thought I knew who I was and what mattered, as I had these labels and titles that meant something to me and to those that met me, and it felt clear.  In the last few years many of the labels have become less important or dropped off completely and I stand here naked and raw unsure how to think of myself or what to tell strangers when I meet them.  It is even more than that because the people that used to frame my life with their own labels and titles have left, changed, and no longer contribute to my scaffolding of my person.  A friend told me that everything being torn down can make room for a new creation.  It is fresh fertile ground that is ripe for the power of my intention.

It is frightening to be a blank slate.  It isn't exactly true that I am a blank slate either as I still have responsibilities and financial obligations that keep me grounded and tied to things such as my house and my job, but the rest of me is free to be redefined.  I can decide what and who I am.  My children are grown and the needs they have for me are not consuming (well except for financially) and my partner and I split up and I have no real family so I am left alone to find the purpose of my life and my time.

I am learning simple things like what to do with my time and how to reach to people for help and friendship.  Just the thought when I wake up on Saturday of Who am I ? and What do I want to do? scares the shit out of me.  I am terrified I will be alone forever and that my life will become that of a recluse.  I am worried about just becoming exhausted and hiding in my house and drinking my way through the years.  However I have not done that yet (except for the exhausted part) and am finding my way towards picking up the guitar, volunteering, reading books, starting a new group, walking around town, even this ...writing..as hard as this is.  I am often overwhelmed with how much I can do and that I would like to do and wonder how I ever used to feel so bored.  It can be too much though and I can easily find myself shrinking back from life and just taking refuge in my home.

I miss my ex-boyfriend and yet when I think of the reality of what it is I long for is not our past relationship reality but the ideal of what could have been between us.  He became depressed and I was  (AM!) still working on a lifetime of insecurity and feelings of inadequacy.  We became paralyzed and worked towards numbing and disengaging from the world rather than leaning in and feeling and embracing our lives.  I used to wake up overwhelmed by the time that I had to kill in a day and wondered how I would survive more years just trying to kill weekends for at least another 30+ years.  It was a dark place to be.  I do really miss someone to share stories with, someone that will hold my hand and tell me it will be ok, and the human connection and contact.  I do not know how to reframe all those things into something by myself except not missing them?

How do you stay open, lean in and yet spend so much time alone?  How do you find your way to like minded folks when you barely have your own legs under you?  How can I be 45 years old and still feel like a child finding my way in this life?  Things do not settle, they do not solidify, and I am changing as much as the things around me.  I thought when I was a girl that I only had to make it to a certain point and then everything would fall into place but some how it would be easier.  The opportunity to wake up every day (EVERY DAY) and experience life fresh is very exciting.  How awesome is it that I am not just "dead woman walking" and full of potential?  It is such hard work to be aware and live my life with clear intention because it means to me that I own this.  This is my world, my experiences and my job to make the most of whatever comes my way.  I have to let go of the hope of control or managing what comes up but just the way I engage and move forward.

This was a hard post to write.  I still fear and struggle with this new world that I am left with.  The emptiness of the house, my bed and yet the fullness of the experience of living.  It is going to take some time to feel at home in this new world.