[a small light in the darkness]

 

 

“Smart impresses me, strength of character impresses me. But most of all, I am impressed by kindness. Kindness, I think, comes from learning hard lessons well, from falling and picking yourself up. It comes from surviving failure and loss. It implies an understanding of the human condition, forgives its many flaws and quirks. When I see that in someone, it fills me with admiration.”
-Lisa Unger, Beautiful Lies

 

Lately, I’ve been letting go of things that went before. At the river, I cast them off, to tumble downstream and away to new adventures, new people, new lives. New, without me, because I can’t move ahead carrying those things either. I felt a lightness spread across me as they slipped away, a warmth that didn’t fit the weather of that early December afternoon.

I am looking to new, beautiful things to fill my heart and life. It’s a joyful process.

 

Symbolically releasing those weights – the people, the events, the outgrown dreams and ideas – is therapeutic. Going to nature to do it gives me a beautiful moment immediately with which to start the process of filling those empty places.

I am rebuilding the girl into something stronger. Better. Happier.

Every day.

 

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

I could fake it, but I still want more…

 

The Word of the Year tradition is one that I haven’t really done before – I’ve always appreciated the idea, and thought about it, but I had my own ways of ushering in changes… but you know what? New year, new directions, and new traditions all go hand in hand, so I’m on the bandwagon.

Fulfilled is the word that I chose, after much deep thought on the subject and the direction I wanted.

I’ve spent a lot of time investing in other people, in helping them find their happiness. This year, I hope to move forward in finding some of my own, as well.

Not that it’s been unhappy across the board, but 2015 was pretty crap. That stopped as of last night.

Fulfillment lies ahead.

 

 

[lyrics: Massive Attack, Dissolved Girl]

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

I’m pouring from the heart tonight.

Yes, I know… I always write from the heart, from my personal stories. But this one is really close to home, and it’s a thing that has really been bothering me.

I think that one of the saddest things that can happen in life and love is when you let someone into your heart, and they come in and enjoy that space and what you have to give… but when it becomes obvious that they are now in a position to do the same, the fear [of past hurts returning, of being vulnerable, of losing themselves in someone else] shuts them down, and they withdraw.

No one wins from this. Everyone’s left lonely and sad. Fear wins, love loses, and all those quiet whispers that tell us how unworthy we are, how no one will love us, how we deserve to be alone… those gather strength. Self-fulfilling prophecies, for some of us.

The second half of this year has been filled with these instances, for me. I keep dating people who are afraid. They don’t necessarily reveal that in the beginning, or even consciously know it. What it comes down to is that they’ve been hurt before – by the world, by a love, by their family. Someone they trusted, someone they wanted to trust. And that hurt has made them afraid to be vulnerable again.

That’s all well and good, the drive to protect oneself. I get it.
But the problem is that if you withdraw from every situation where you feel a possibility of getting hurt, of having to open yourself up, how will you ever truly stop being alone? It’s obvious that these people don’t want to be alone. They wouldn’t reach out if that wasn’t the case. But as soon as that possibility becomes real, the reality scares them and they shut down.
Then they go on to do it again.
And again.

Things won’t change if you don’t let them. This applies to every single thing in life.

You can’t keep doing the same thing and expect different results.

And you have to be vulnerable in order to allow love in.

EVERY GOOD THING IN LIFE REQUIRES YOU TO SAY YES.

It doesn’t have to be with me. [though there’s been a few cases where I really wish it had been. Heavy hearted, but risk is part of life.] But if not with me, choose someone – carefully, yes, but CHOOSE. Choose to live.
Have the cake.
Then go for a walk.
Go on the date.
Try the scary thing.
Travel to the country where you don’t speak the language.
Talk to the stranger.
Laugh out loud.

Just go do it. Life is too short to be scared, y’all.

Things you said and the ways you lied
made me read the writing and see the signs
The clock is ticking in your inward mind
soon the flower fades and you’ve lost the time

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

 

[lyrics from Perfect Day by Lou Reed]

 

I try to be upbeat. I really do. Most of the time, I am up, so it’s easy enough.

I don’t like to drag people down. I like to lift them up, too.

 

But it’s hard when the times are darker and I need someone to confide to. No one wants to hear about your low points, even if they usually tell you to “share all of you!” and “you can tell me everything!” and “it’s safe, you’re safe with me!” and “I understand, I’ve been there too.” Those, the last ones – they’re the trickiest, because they understand but then they often get scared or resentful or cautious or something – afraid they’ll get pulled back in. And they’re often the first to say “share, be truthful” and the first to say “you’re depressing me.”

And then I feel sad AND guilty.

 

 

Best not to tell anyone anything, I swear. Just the happy face forever, even if it’s bullshit.

…no, that’s not happening. I am 100% myself, truthful, honest about what I’m feeling and how I’m dealing with it. If that’s not okay, get out now. If that’s too much to deal with, then maybe I’m not worth being around for you. If I have to hide my truth in order to be your friend or lover or be in you company… well, that just ain’t gonna work for me. I will be there through high and low for you, I deserve the same. I’m a complete person, not just the happy-go-lucky parts.

 

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

 

 

[Ladytron,  Destroy Everything You Touch]

So much change has happened in my life lately. Nothing much that the casual observer would see, but for me, the entire landscape of my world has been shifting. I’ve lost people from my tribe. I’ve had a prodigal return. I found something that feels beautiful and full of promise. I have been moving through disappointment with my head mostly held high – I mean, you have to mourn when you have losses, but the trick is to do that and keep moving, else you get bogged down there.

It’s easy in those moments -when you’re losing, when you’re watching another person walk away because you’re not what they wanted – to feel like it’s you, like you’re the one who ruins everything.

 

 

But LISTEN TO ME. Please?

Most of the time, you’re not. You’re not the one ruining it, it’s not ruined at all. It’s just that you weren’t the right person at the right time. You didn’t fail, you just weren’t where you were going to thrive. You haven’t run out of options. You have so many great things to come.

This is to me. This is to you, whoever you are. The world is big and confusing and exciting and dirty and magical, all at once. People are lovely and ugly and kind and mean and so very fucking HUMAN. That’s the curse and the beauty of it, you know. You don’t get one without the other.

Take a chance. Love. Live. Dance, sing, explore, dream. This is it, this is what you get – don’t waste that.

 

 

 

 

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

 

 

 

A large part of life is taken up with the Struggle.

That’s neither good nor bad: it just is. That’s how life rolls. On the good days, everything is pretty amazing. [even when it’s just okay and everyday… I’m still pretty enthused by it all, I really am.]

On the bad days, I try really hard to not let it get to me. Even though it doesn’t seem like it sometimes to the people around me, I swear I am trying.

Thing is – and this is one of the things that keeps me going – I know I’m not the only one who goes through this. I can’t say that everyone does, but I have evidence [testimonials] that tell me that I’m not alone here. And that, my friends, helps immensely. I also have people who do wonderful things like talking me through the bad times, too.

Lately, I’ve needed more support than usual. It’s been rough over here in Xiane-land, with a pile of various trials happening at once. That hardest part, honestly, has been dealing with some blows to my self-esteem, which when paired with stress and feeling down, really managed to work me over. I am so, so grateful to my friends, who tried so hard to lift me back up and encourage me to believe in myself.

 

Things I discovered this week: that I have spent so little time caring for myself lately that I couldn’t even name what my favorite food is. Like – I can tell you a bunch of styles of things that I like, but I couldn’t name a single dish.

I need to invest in myself more.

I need to speak up [out] more.

I need to say no. And yes. When appropriate. With gusto.

And I need to insist that people who want the good parts of me give me access to their good parts, too. Because all too often I give more than I’m given in return, and it’s not right nor fair. I deserve better, and that’s only going to change if I put my foot down. Because I can’t trust people who get those things and aren’t reciprocating to respect the idea of giving from the heart.

 

And I have a LOT of heart. The right people should be getting access. [and giving it too]

 

 

 

 

Mirrored from xiane.dot.org.

This was inspired by a sideline thought I had during a conversation about communication with my friend Shawn. It was a good conversation. This navel-gazing didn’t belong there, so here it is. Heh.

I am so fucking torn, ALL the time. I constantly doubt myself.

Yeah, I’m talking about me like a self-absorbed thing… but the ironic thing is that every single fucking time I post something anywhere, I worry about it. Will it be taken the right way, did I say it right, who will get insulted if they disagree, who will have some smart-ass comment when I’m being thoughtful… I am stuck between this place of trying to be a smart, informed, caring person who is honest to the best of her ability, and being someone who is scared that she’ll be exposed as a fraud, someone who can be torn down easily, someone weak and not informed and definitely not smart.

We get all the conflicting messages:
You should believe in yourself.
You shouldn’t be so cocky.
You should be confident in your opinions and share them with the world.
You should shut up, because you have no idea what you’re talking about.
You should love yourself. You are amazing.
You should get over yourself, you’re nothing special.
You understand so much!
You don’t know shit!
You will be happy if you choose to be.
You are sad because you chose to be so.
People treat you the way you allow them to treat you.
You aren’t nice enough/you are too nice.

And so many of these cross-signals come from well-meaning sources! Friends who want to “make sure your ego doesn’t get too big,” and inspirational speakers who either build you up to impossible heights or throw all responsibility for your issues into your lap… your parents, teachers, bosses – who are “doing it for your own good” or praising you all out of proportion… well-meaning people and those who want to knock you down a peg, and sometimes those two groups are not so easy to tell apart!

Some people seem completely unfazed by all these conflicting messages, and are secure in who they are and what they do.

I am not one of them.

I had the ability to be assertive threatened, intimidated, and beaten out of me for the longest time. I went from a smart kid who was quiet but who trusted what she’d learned and wasn’t afraid to share it, to a young woman who wavered between being self-assured and being overly assertive in order to hide her self-doubts. And then, through a combination of events, I fell into a place where I thought so little of myself that I started treating myself badly, fell between being completely quiet or aggressive with what I thought, and then… I allowed myself to get in an abusive relationship where my opinions were shut down with a fist. [this is a vast simplification of that story, but you get the drift]

It has taken a HUGE amount of effort to pull myself out of that hole. I’m still hovering around the entrance quite a bit, but I’m sure this will be a life-long work in progress, so it’s okay.

But what can be frustrating for me is trying to strike that balance – finding the sweet spot between stating my thoughts confidently, without sounding like a pompous, opinionated asshole. It’s even harder when I’m in the middle of some debate about a subject of which I am both passionate and well-informed.

It’s always the well-informed that gets me, y’all. I read a LOT. I try to vet the things I post about, especially if I’m not quite sure, or if there’s wiggle room in interpretation. I really enjoy researching and forming a logical, well-constructed statement. I try not to post if I’m unsure, unless I state plainly that I’m unsure but this is what I think.

And then I sit there and shake internally. I wait for the dissection, the criticism, the assertion that I’m too full of myself or a smart-ass or not actually informed or a jerk… whatever the thing is that I fear the most at that moment, because I dared to have an opinion. And people, of course, capitalize on that if they can, so I try to hide it and probably look even more pompous or whatever.

It’s a catch-22. “Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind — even if your voice shakes.”* But probably be thought to be a bloviating asshole if you speak up.

I do speak up more often than not, now. I hope I don’t sound like an arrogant know-it-all.

* another funny quote from Maggie Kuhn – “Learning and sex until rigor mortis.” Hell yeah, Maggie.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

…Freedom has no bounds.

I surround myself with people because I feel alone.

Nevertheless, I am always alone, inside my head.
I have *always* felt alone.

I grew up as an only child, as you might know from previous discussions. I was also awkward and geeky and had a too-big vocabulary with no understanding of when not to use it. That made me a pretty lonely kid. It wasn’t until high school that I finally “got it” as far as socialization goes, and I made some other friends – folks, for the most part, like me in various ways.

I went from there to the Hardcore Punk scene of mid-eighties Baltimore, where I found both kindred souls and a lack of judgement when I did not necessarily mesh with some of the internal groups. No wonder that I felt that I’d found home. No one cared if I was wordy or read – many punk bands were heavily influenced by literature or politics or alternative lifestyles or spiritual practices. [see the Philly band referenced, Ruin]

Still… no matter how hard I tried, I was always alone in the end. People go home, they go to sleep, they move on, they grow up, they die. All these things. And these are normal things, and they happen to us all – both the events and the being alone. But it ate at me. It still eats at me.

I submerged myself into bad, abusive relationships to fill that hollowness. I held onto “friends” that I should have let move on. I tried everything I could to keep loneliness from gnawing away at my insides. I didn’t realize that my inability to deal with the feelings is directly related to my depression, and one enhances the other. Once I groked that piece of info, I understood the hole inside – although that didn’t hasten in any way my ability to get rid of that feeling.

Juxtaposed our solitude
formed into community
always seek out others
because you fear to be alone

Of course, of course I love you
won’t you take me from myself?
Society and boundaries
are products of our weakness
Take away the structures
and the boundlessness remains

Freedom has no bounds*

We have no reason to need each other. We have every reason in the world to need each other.

What I’ve done to help fill this void is become VERY good at befriending people – good people, interesting people, creative people, fun people. Not perfect people, of course, but perfect for different aspects of my life. The Internet really helped with this; first chatrooms, then IRC – now Twitter and Facebook and Livejournal, various communities… and it’s moved into meatspace, with craft shows and Convergences and Pagan Pride Day and many other events.

I treasure every one of my friends, even if we’ve not met face-to-face.

But here’s what’s important: despite the fact that my emptiness will probably ALWAYS remain, simply because it is a product of my depression… I am whole in myself. I ache for others to be around me, and I am often lonely even when they are there, but I have learned to like myself and appreciate my own company. I am the most free when I am alone.

But if I feel that I am always alone, then I am always free.

*lyrics from “Freedom Has No Bounds” by Ruin

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

When the nights are long, and my room is dark
when the sadness threatens to take over my heart
when the silence is deafening, and I am so tired…

your existence gives me hope.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Did I have fun, back then? I think I did from time to time, although I was consumed with trying to establish who I truly was. I did stupid things, things that I’m lucky to have lived through. I spent too much time in dirty alleys, decrepit houses, squats… I was reckless because that’s when I felt most alive. I didn’t know then what I know now about me [and the world] – I knew I was depressed, but not to the extent. I spent weeks lying in a room, listening to Bauhaus over and over, before I started getting really reckless, taking ridiculous risks… what finally got me up and moving was the challenge to find ways to kickstart life into an “exciting” place.

Sometimes I feel a million years’ worth of distance between the girl that I was, and the woman that I am now. I can look at the photos and see the me that was, but it’s as if I’m looking through a curtain of fog. Then again, there are so many nights that I can’t remember from that time, that it’s hardly surprising that I feel that way!

People who didn’t know me then usually can’t believe that the stories that I tell have anything to do with the me that they know now. People who knew me then often express surprise that I’m where I am. Xiane the enigma, whoop-dee-doo.

I have no idea what I’m trying to say here. I’ve just been lost in thought after stumbling on the above photo in my photos folder. It is always insightful for me to think about how far I’ve come.

Mirrored from ...what's a xiane?.