Monthly Archives: December 2013

Peeling Back The Onion

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On this New Year’s Eve, I’ve been more pensive than normal. I realized that I’ve kept myself busy all year long, distracting myself from my true emotions. Work has been amazing at keeping me focused on projects and deadlines. For the past two weeks, the slowness of the holiday season, has really given me a chance to peel back the onion a little bit more.

I’ve been awful at keeping friendships over the last 5 years. It’s very apparent this holiday season as I find myself alone most of the time, seeking a companionship I cannot find. I am truly alone. Sure, I have friends that invite me to Thanksgiving, to Christmas Eve, to dinners and Happy Hours… but none of them is able to share the intimacy I so crave.

The man of my dreams lives 2500 miles away from me and doesn’t want me as a boyfriend.

So, the solitude and silence has forced me to deal and confront these miserable feelings. By a stroke of luck, I finally began reading: The Power of Kabbalah by Yehuda Berg. I was not ready to ready this a year ago. Timing is superb. The text has helped me focus quite a bit and stirred up the emotions of being alone.

Each time I peel back a layer of the onion, I feel more raw and exposed. I cry not just a little; I cry a lot. Each peel gets closer to the core. I’m not used to this and I’ve been running away from confronting it for the past year. 

I don’t know how many more layers I have to peel, but I laugh at the thought of this same time last year I was crying for hours for a very different reason. Shit. What the fuck!? Will my holidays always be spent so miserably? Don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried my best to maneuver from this sad existence – I’ve forced myself to go out, to celebrate, to put up those fucking Christmas decorations… I did it all! And when I start to feel really good about my life, when I start to connect with what Kabbalists call the Light of the Universe, obstacles just suddenly appear when I least expect them to. 

I think I need another good cry before this year is over. More tears to cleanse my soul. Just like when I’m cutting or peeling into an actual onion, the longer I take with it, the more my eyes sting and the more the tears flow.

Eventually, there’s no more onion left, right? That’s something to look forward to. The onion is finite. There will come a time when there are no more tears. No more layers. No more onion.

Until then, I will let myself cry.

Holiday Revelations

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I just received a phone call from my aunt. My mom’s sister. One of her sisters.

My mom is not doing well and I’m helpless to do anything to rectify the situation. I could probably do it if I won a million bucks, but that isn’t the reality.

My stepfather, her husband, died of lung cancer recently. This piece of news I just found out today as well. To make matters worse, my mom is unable to keep work and is living off of her Social Security which makes it more difficult. She’s not able to work and stay in reality. Her schizophrenia is at it’s worse. She’s not taking any medications and she’s barely able to stay coherent.

My aunt told me that she’s about to be kicked out of her home. She wanted to see if I could help her out, but I can’t. I truly cannot. I’m in a bind. I feel absolutely guilt-stricken and I can’t do a thing about it. Why does news like this always happen during the holidays? My life is a fucking joke.

Here I am thinking about my heart and finding the man of my dreams when my mom is suffering and about to become homeless. This is Karma telling me to pay attention and prioritize my life. Oh, but the irony is: if I was still with Chris, I think I’d be able to support her. The irony is that this path that I’ve just taken in 2013 has derailed not only my life, but any chance of supporting my Mom through this.

My Aunt was in tears over the phone, setting me off as well. I’m at Starbucks as I type this… In full view of strangers as I grieve.

My Aunt is going to take over the finances of my Mom’s. She’s going to help as best as she can. Her final words to me before she hung up: “We’re family. We take care of eachother. We’re family… We’re family…”

Yes, we are. We are family.

Adding Value

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I woke up this morning to a text message from Matt. Basically, how much he misses me and can’t wait to call me.

I responded in the like and told him that I was “his”. He didn’t respond as I anticipated. In fact, he responded guiltily and said I deserved a lot more – someone who can give me more.

I was straight forward and asked him if he wanted to end it. He replied that he didn’t, but feels like a bad person to be with. Throughout our text messaging, he shared that he was so wrong for me and that I deserved better. All probably true, but my heart is already in love with him. 

Is this the tragedy that I was trying to avoid? Why have I fallen in love with someone who is not in the right configuration for me? Perhaps the answer is simple: I’ve just chosen Matt because the matters of the heart are unexplainable at times. I just love him.

The conversation continued on with him wanting to know how he “adds value” to my life. I told him the truth: He challenges me in a way I’ve never been challenged before, by pushing me outside of my comfort zone and letting me grow in a way I have not realized. The “growing” is painful at times, but I’m realizing how strong I can become. In addition, he’s proven to me that I can love another person again. Isn’t that value add enough?

So, he got on his flight and is heading home to DC. 

I left him with a few thoughts and parting words: 

  • How do I add value in his life?
  • Why does he want to date me?
  • Why doesn’t he want to let me go?

More to follow, I’m sure.

We all change…

…We all change when you think about it. We are all different people all through our lives and that’s okay, that’s good, you gotta keep moving so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this, not one day, I swear…

– The Eleventh Doctor, Doctor Whotime-of-the-doctor-karen

Desire

We are Desire in motion.

“In the language of Kabbalah, desire is referred to as a Vessel. A Vessel is like an empty cup that seeks to be filled. Unlike an empty cup, however, the Vessel of our desires is not anything physical.”

Excerpt From: Yehuda Berg. “The Power of Kabbalah.” iBooks. https://itun.es/us/e-X9y.l

Appendix: Groove

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From the Urban Dictionary:

The groove is so mysterious. We’re born with it and we lose it and the world seems to split apart before our eyes into stupid and cool. When we get it back, the world unifies around us, and both stupid and cool fall away.I am grateful to those who are keepers of the groove.

-Lynda Barry, from 100 Demons

When I decided to act on my own volition rather than society’s, I realized…baby, I got my groove back!

Days of Christmas Past

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I had an acupuncture appointment this morning with the specific intention to help elevate my mood and help my energy levels. While in the midst of the treatment, a buried memory from years past emerged: 

I was around 5 or 6 years old living in Hawaii with my parents (prior to their divorce). We rented a room in Kalihi (a suburb of Honolulu) at a house of a middle-class Filipino family. The owners included a mom, dad, young daughter near my age and their son in their early-to-mid 20s. 

I think I may have been sexually abused by their son. But in my memory, it seemed like I knew I was always gay and I wanted to explore his body. The memories are a bit fragmented:

  • A playful shower with him.
  • A nude men’s magazine he showed me.
  • When he was “asleep”, I recall crawling under the blankets as he protested and I proceeded to explore his body.

I also remember my father finding out and going ballistic on him. There was a lot of screaming and yelling. I think I was told I couldn’t hang around him anymore and we soon moved out. I also remember seeing a cardboard cut-out of Sesame Street’s The Count and how much I enjoyed playing with the cut-out.

When we first moved into the place, it was in the evening. I remember holding some glasses in the dark. I must’ve slipped or lost my footing. I ended up breaking those glasses and cutting my arm. The gash was large and I was taken into the emergency room for some stitches.

Even now the scar still shows on my left arm. Some scars don’t go away, I guess. Their with you for the rest of your life.