Note to self

Do not watch sad love movies. Not now. Not until things are more settled. Just a little while ago, I found myself damn near sobbing over City of Angels. I hate that! Beautiful movie, cinematography, people, music...all that. I can't just kick back and enjoy it. No, I have to let this sappy, sentimental heart of mine go get twisted up in knots and then spill all down my face. The worst thing is that there is no one here to tease me for crying.

ARGH!!! Suck it up and put away the damn hanky!

It's the little things that I don't like about being separated. On afternoons like this, it's lonely, and the silence feels heavy. It felt lonely in a different way before, but when this hits, damn, well, lonely is what it is. I need to remember this is no worse. In some ways, it is better, much better. That's cold comfort right now when every romantic string in my heart has been plucked by that @#$%! movie, and I'm aching to be loved and sad because I'm wondering why I wasn't. Well, if I'm going to be unloved, it's better to know it, be solidly myself, find contentment in how much I really do have and live alone than have the shallow pretense of love and feel empty.

Such is life, and it does just suck sometimes.

Perimenopause is such an exciting time in a woman's life. I haven't had mood swings like this since I was a teenager. Before the tears today, I was irritated, cranky as hell and mad at myself because I couldn't express it. I looked at every time I had failed to speak up this last week, every compromise I've made that went too far, every time I just acquiesced when I shouldn't have, every time I controlled my voice when I should have stomped and shouted and just got sick with myself. When my mood called for shotguns and carefully sharpened blades, my words failed me, and everything I said or wrote sounded like the big wuss I'm determined not to be.

If I can be honest enough to throw my sadness out publicly, why can't I marshall the same honesty for my anger? It's as real as the sadness. I know that I deserve to feel the anger, but it's so damn hard to direct it outward. I get so angry that I fear it will flood and break all the levees. My scream could break the sound barrier. Anger is very empowering, and now when I am discovering my power again after a long time, I get afraid of it. Some of this is the respect that anger justly deserves. Some of it is just plain cowardice. Sadness is too damn familiar to me. I'm comfortable with it. It has been deemed acceptable by my inner judge, but anger hasn't. I'm still learning how to tell that asshole judge to shut up.

I'd rather stomp, shout and slam doors now instead of cry over sad movies. I'd rather not have to stomp, shout or slam doors at all, but I can't keep running away from it. I don't want life to suck, and I know that there is more to it than being sad, lonely or angry. I've experienced more -- laughter, passion, excitement, hope, contentment, exhilaration and more -- and damn it, I will again. And for right now, NO MORE SAD MOVIES.

movies
separation