My House


I dreamt the other night about a house. I was there and somehow connected to the place of residence.  The dream was about no specific rooms – in fact, it was about all of them.  We pulled all the furniture to the middle.  We made notes for painters as to what to paint and how. We tossed some stuff. We rearranged other things.  But we worked hard with the end result being rewarding and perfect.

Like many of my subconscious dreams, I realized it wasn’t about the house.  A quick google search to dream guides revealed it was about me rearranging my own head in my life.  The furniture were the people.  Since the dream did not contain any specific room, the rooms were insignificant.  I was clearly trying to figure out where people fit in my life and my head.

About three weeks ago, I found a “coach”.  Her specialty is sex and relationships.  Why? Because somewhere in the past year, I lost me.  I lost my way on a well worn path.  Is it because we are open? Nah.  Not at all.  And she agrees.  Nothing about it screams problem.  In fact, she applauds how good we are about it.

The problem is simple – me.

To quote her: You do not have to call out every elephant in the room.  In the name of communication, I do exactly that. I call it out. I point to it. I describe it. I learn its name. And I make everyone greet it until it is resolved and gone away.

In short – I’m an enabler.

I used to joke that I was an enabler. Turns out, I am through simply being me.  And that is a good reason why I feel broken at times.  I do, what I think is right and direct, and it backfires.  Why? Because if I do it, no one else does.  It is my role.  It is who I have become in my life.  I’m the person who calls out the elephants – gets it resolved – and everyone enjoys the fruits of the labor.  Meanwhile, I am not taking care of me nor is anyone else.

I recently had a friend tell me the same thing the coach did. “Stop trying to help. You have no obligation to help. You need to let others sort it out.  Stop it. Now.”

But that’s who I am.  I can trace it back to growing up.  I was the one who called things out and made people address it in the family.  My brother treating my mom like shit? Yeah, I said enough was enough.  And when I did, suddenly, it was enough.  In college, I did the same thing.  The group I belonged to was in shambles. No one wanted to address the cause.  I stood up and pointed it out.  And it was a giant sigh of relief.  Hell, in my work, I do the same thing.  I have repeatedly been rewarded for it.  My life is built out of this idea that I have to call out the elephant. If I don’t, there is tension and stress and risk and all of these other negatives that I, in an instant, can solve.

So I do.

And by doing so, I ignore me.

And by doing so, I risk others getting pissy at me.

I let people ignore me.

I let people deprioritize me and what I need.

So I have to rearrange my house.

I have to name things I don’t want to name.

I have to risk things I haven’t wanted to risk.

I have to hope that people I care about care about me to understand.

To offer their support.

To offer their love.

Because to undo this much is hard.

And to find middle ground – to find my even keel again – is not going to be easy.

It is scarier than fuck.

And I hate it.

She keeps telling me I need to be kind to myself.  “This is not easy. You strike me as someone who will work her ass off to get back to that path, but you also strike me as someone who is impatient to get to the end – who will punish herself.  Please do not do that.”

My mother-in-law, for my birthday, gave me her fetish.  Before you think it’s a weird kinky family, a fetish is an Zuni Fetish – a magical icon carved by Navajo.  Her mother gave it to her.  She passed it to me.  It is a bear. When I read about it, it says that a bear represents reflection.  A bear stands at the cave entrance and decides if it wants to go out or go back inside to hibernate.  It represents strength – inner power – and transformation.  How funny she chose this to come to me at a time I need it.

So this is where I’m at.  I’m reflective. I’m introspective. I’m going to be dumping a bit more than normal.  I am going to have happy moments. I’m going to have sad moments.  As she reminded me, nothing is linear – it is most likely quite non-linear.

Bear with me.  There will be sexy things written I’m sure – hell, I had a great date last night, so clearly I’m not 100% broken.  But I”m also going to be popping in and out as my muse allows.

I need to find me again.  As she commented – the path is worn. I know it well. I just need to do some bushwhacking to get back on it.  Here’s to hoping it goes well.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. OsShirt says:

    Bushwacking? Obviously you’re not 100% broken! 😉

  2. Just me... says:

    *hugs* I know there is nothing I can do to help.. But know I would if I could.. 🙂

What do you think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.