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Even 18 days after getting canned, I continue to have nightmares about my old job. That’s right. And all of these nightmares are about incompetence and sabotage. I dream over and over that other people are pinning their incompetence on me and setting me up to take the blame. I don’t mean people who were under me in the company, I mean my equals and my superiors.
I still do not know what happened, or exactly why my employment ended. I know there were personality conflicts and that my insistence on “strategy based on fact” was not part of the “vision” of the owners. I know all this. What I do not know is what exactly it was about me that was so horrible that they fired me. Even they would not or could not answer this.
So I have these night terrors where I am back at work. But it is a sick twisted trap full of drama and strife. I don’t know who I can trust. Nobody. No matter what I do it blows up in my face. The guy they hired to replace me is there, fueling the fires and creating catastrophe wherever he goes.
How do I resolve these issues? I feel that I need closure and I need answers in order to get over this heartbreak.
There is more of my work to read, all available online!
Check out these articles:
Massage Therapy in Rehab Centers
How to Write a 5 Paragraph Essay
Single Parent Develops 1 Year Rule: Wait to Introduce Your Kids to Someone Significant
Denial Fantasies after Break-up: Coping with Grief through Imaginitive Escape
I didn’t want to break up with you. I really, really didn’t. But that is what had to happen for both our sakes. And until you can get help for your serious affliction, and get sober, until then, I can’t be in your life.
But I do want to be in your life. I want back the life that we had before this. No, I want an even better life. Our bond has been set on fire, and either forged or destroyed by these trials. Only time, distance, individual healing and reunion will tell.
This road is going to be long. This is life after all. And I don’t want to move on to another man until there is nothing left between us to hope for.
I want to stand here on the shore and wait for your ship to come sailing back into the safety of this harbor.
I pray God will see you through, and guide us both on our quest for the Love and the Friend
xoxo
In hard, cool solitude the rock of every emotion over losing you sits pent, unmoving
When I read the poems of Rumi my grief breaks open
like God’s booming voice across eterning commanding, Let there be light
the creation of what is right for here and now tumbles into being
my whole soul dissolves into unknowing, gone to a place where my mind cannot find it
I dare not look for new love from inside this heartbreak, and instead find the hand of Christ bleeding for me
asking, Do you want to be healed?
I can love like a woman is made to love
Deep romantic adventurous spiritual love
I would fight for the man of my heart and suffer for his sake
I would be soft on my back and vulnerable in my gut
I would open my heart like a flower, blossom for our love
I would show you my soul, and shout at the top of my lungs
YOU ARE THE MAN OF MY DREAMS AND I LOVE YOU LIKE THE OCEAN IS DEEP, I LOVE YOU HOT AS THE SUN SHINES WITH ALL THE JOY OF TOGETHERNESS. I WAITED FOR YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND NOW MY HAPPINESS RADIATES WITHIN ME BECAUSE I FOUND YOU!
I would submit to you as a woman to a man, meaning I wouldn’t want to control you, just to know you and be your partner
I would show you my desire, show you my pain, show you and expect for you to see me, because I would know that you are a deep and strong creature – someone suited just so for me
You would be the dream lover, the Prince Charming, the ecstatic Friend and you would love me for my intellect and my beauty
I feel uncomfortable with Happiness
Her strange, unfamiliar ways make me wary
She is a little girl on the trespass of my psyche
Who dances, skips and sings around the room with imaginary butterflies and ponies
Happiness is inconsiderate of the old man Grief,
Stalwarth fellow who sits in the straight back chair, ever contemplating the world’s horrors, filled with fear feelings for the little naive girl and her delicate glass slippers
She sometimes crawls up to sit beside him, her little legs dangling over the edge, swinging
She looks up at him and smiles, full of her own beauty without a hint of doubt
It began when he took off his sobriety and jumped into the slough of disease and despondency. I laid down and began to pray. The prayer for three months was, “God grant me the serenity…” I learned to pray not for outcomes, but for peace of heart and mind. Stubborn girl. Control freak. I prayed I could change.
At the end of three months I laid down and cried to God. I cried and prayed that I didn’t know what to pray. I prayed that I might see a way. Then there came a vision as God spoke in pictures and meaning in that place between wake and sleep.
I saw a wound and I was the wound. I saw it as it was long ago – when it was fresh and deep – the symbol of my childhood. Then I saw the wound as it had become: festered, pussing, oozing, a great bulging scab. Years and years of scab covering the original wound. The most putrified – that was what God had to show me of myself.
When I understood what the symbol meant, the beautiful hand of God reached out and grabbed hold of the giant scab. I shook, “NO!” the pain was immeasurable. What could there be beneath? Do not open up that wound!
In my vision the pussy scab came off slowly and painfully. Removing it meant letting go of years of hurts and protection.
Wonderful – what was revealed beneath – clean, beautifully healed skin that glowed without so much as a scar.
So that was the promise of God. That if I would be still and allow God to take away all the pain I would find myself perfectly healed. God would show that the scab itself, symbolizing the agony and misery of many years – that those experiences were the miracle of healing.
THE COMMANDMENT came the next day as I was driving and thinking how hard it is to hold onto and live with the pain of my lover’s addiction. Then I heard (no vision to interupt driving) my own voice in my head, “Let go and trust me” I knew in an instant that I had to “cut him off to save my soul”.
I wondered if this was God, but unlike other times when I talk to myself, this voice was saying what I did not want to hear, and speaking clearly and forcefully. The voice was pure truth speaking through my own desire. I argued, and asked for promises. “Will I get him back?” I heard, “That is not for you to decide. Just let go and trust me.”
I hated this and wanted to resist, but I knew my way would never take me anywhere but into pure hell. So I asked God for the strength to follow this commandment and receive the promise of a healed me.
I got home and took my phone, erasing all of his contact information. I did this to remove temptation – in an act of divine strength.
Now the struggle rages to continue to follow the command – to give him up. I know this is the right thing for me and for him – because God told me so and now I believe.
My monster eats my legs
He sews my eyes shut
He bores a hole through my skull
And siphons off dreams
Funnels them to Africa, to keep the people’s hopes alive
He grabs my weaknesses and inflates them with lies
They are ballons that grow and grow
They press me
So I cannot breathe
My monster grabs my hand and grabs the pen
And shows me where to write the pain
Last night was not the night the music died. Last night, when I and thousands of others in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood heard that Barack Obama took the presidency we took to the streets. I followed a derelict marching band of three supreme party orchestrators out of the Comet Tavern. The police came and provided a superb light show. A helicopter posted up in the sky above. We laughed, we screamed, we cried and hugged and kissed people we’d never met before. The stereotypically reserved, isolated personalities attached to Seattlites fell away and we were not ourselves and more ourselves in the same moment.
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