Safe and secure self-attachment.

From the interwebs, collected July 2, 2017

Relationships consist of a series of bids for love and support from our partners, that we hope will ward off that scary feeling of not being loved. Will you comfort me in this situation, or invalidate my feelings? Will you make me feel wanted, or reject me? Can I depend on you for this, or will you disappoint me? In other words, we’re constantly looking to our partners for feelings of security – security within the relationship, and security with ourselves. When they don’t fill this need, it hurts, and it feels scary. It triggers that deeply buried and powerful fear – that maybe we’re not loved… maybe we’re not even lovable.

The self is the only dependable source of security.

The only true source of security is from within. We might exert all kinds of effort trying to control the rest of our world, but the only thing we can really control is ourselves. So what if we put as much effort into mastering our ability to choose the perspective we take of the world? What if instead of trying to change our partners into people that are better at making us feel secure, we change ourselves into people that fill our own need of security? What if we could provide ourselves with our own secure attachment to ourselves?

True love:
“It is a caring enough about the person that you do not wish to interfere with his development, nor to use him for any self-aggrandizing goals of your own. Your satisfaction comes in having set him free to grow in his own fashion.”

Better words.

What I should have said, back in July  2015.

Darling,

I hurt right now, and I feel it is important you know why.  I love you; we chose to live out the rest of our days together, and although I am not the best at explaining my viewpoints, my hurt effects both of us, and “us”, and it would be unfair to not share how I am feeling with you.

I feel shocked - shocked by your actions.  Internet trolling shocks me to the core. I’ve seen so much now, that I feel uncertain about what is “real” from you to me. I understand joking around and pretending etc., and I feel uncomfortable with you trolling people. It feels like lying, to me. Worse, sometimes, I feel like I am being lied to, sometimes even for fun, and that makes me very sad and foolish.

I feel exhausted. I feel exhausted from overthinking. I feel mean and unreasonable when I see you on the defensive so much. Some of these times, I even feel like I’m betraying my own senses and sensibilities, because I’m not in agreement with you about something, I tell you about how I feel, and then I receive anger from you, rather than the understanding I am seeking.

When I feel like I have been unwittingly and insensitively offensive to you, I really feel foolish and shameful for:

1. being concerned about something enough that I feel I need to bring it to your attention,
2. for seeking understanding from you on my viewpoint,
3. for feeling disappointed that you didn’t, or have refused to acknowledge/give the understanding I need,
4. that I look inward to try to figure it out - am I selfish? Unreasonable? Jealous? Not worthy of honesty? Stupid? - and struggle with accepting your view on the issue as true, good and valid (and I keep on thinking/asking you questions until I feel satisfied with the answer I have to create sense of the issue, so I may understand.

When I receive the defensive behaviour, 

I feel ashamed, betrayed, worthless, rejected and very alone - not all the time, but definitely some times during the last couple of years, during and after times when I have asked you about details that I feel you may have covered up or hidden from me, like email accounts and the nature of some online activities.

Please, come home to me, your wife. I've been there for you, and will always be here. I need you, and I don't know what to do. I know I cannot bear to feel these horrid emotions anymore. I need to understand and get past this, and that means understanding from your stance. 

**Too bad that after I sent my original letter, the real hell began. Who would have thought you purposely deceived me, purposely hurt me and so much more.**

The most depressing poem ever.

(from June 4, 2016, although I am pretty sure I wrote it sometime November or December 2015)

Twice

Devoid of two moments

Never to be savoured 

In fond recollection.

They bear my cheeks

A stain of sorrow,

Remembered.

Moments unshared

Moments -

  Fearfully,

  Despairingly, and

  Regretfully

- stolen, wanton figments of my hope and desire.

Disappeared into a veil of white.

Reflected monitor sheen on your face

Nourishing a stimu-starved mind.

Click.

Click.

Twice.
(... Ha - in one minute, maybe.)

Scroll.

Healing.

Yeah yeah, I haven't posted in a few months.  I haven't had much to say though.  Being let go from my job at the end of August was a real blow to the ego and pocketbook, but it has given my sanity a much-needed rest.  I can enjoy singing once again, and even had a fun new experience recently with that.  The rush from singing and communicating well is healing me.  I strive for happiness in all who surround me.  Perhaps it's the easy way out, but singing is the easiest way for me to achieve that.

Glass and teaching have been decent to me.  Perhaps my upcoming merge show will get me over the hump!

Statement pieces, fused chords.. kinda cool.  Now to build that machine, and get that going!

Life, revisited.

September 1 starts a new chapter for me, or rather a chapter revisited. Blessed for the people I know and have met, blessed for the opportunities that await.

Back to glass and teaching, after a 14-month stint as something that I was good at, but certainly not my calling.

Me.
My life.
My family.
My art.
My dreams and goals.

Oh hello goals.. nice to be able to realize you in the near future.