I’m not talking about Trump so don’t get excited. Or depressed. I’ve been really struggling with work, home projects, my sexuality, money, all that big shit that can be triggers on their own. Here’s a quick summary for those not close to me or those out of the loop.
I’ve renewed my teaching credential and am seriously considering going back to that field. It’s a solid choice because I know I can do it, I know what the challenges are, and that I’m good at it. It’s a difficult choice because there is a 99% chance that I’ll have to move. I LOVE my home, I’ve an adopted daughter here, and friends, and it’s the most beautiful place I’ve lived. It also requires that I face the music again, which I haven’t done since my voice teacher killed himself and I said fuckitImdone to my opera career. So there’s that.
I’ve been trying to tackle a huge home improvement project all by my lonesome. Floors, paint, appliances, trim. Many of these things I’ve never done before. I’ve made solid progress over the last 7 months (7 fucking months…), but I still have many full days of work ahead. I don’t feel like I can put energy into possibly teaching until I have my home done. I’m trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel but then there is:
Work… yeahhhhhhhhhh. Too many hours and too many stresses that bleed into the rest of my life. Original, no?
As for my sexuality, I’ve finally met a guy that is kind and fun. He seems pretty in to me. Perfect timing if I’m going to leave the area. Good grief. So now that I’ve had a tiny bit of experience with that, it’s awoken a side of me that I find, frankly, frightening. I’ve been talking about acknowledging the gay/bi/whateverthefuck side of me for a while now and the reality is so much more vivid than the mental exercise. I’m now crossing bridges I had only imagined before, and can see new ones in the distance. Ones like, “Hey Mom, meet my boyfriend.” Holy fucking shit. Others are sexual and I’m just not going there here, yet. But I will say that there is a power and a longing for the male sexuality that is so compelling. Again, frightening. So much processing to do with that.
I’m actually hoping I didn’t fuck it up with him because of the shit mood I was in this weekend. I can totally see myself doing that.
Which brings me back to why I’m writing tonight. There might actually be hope for me. I’ve been looking for many years for a good resource to help me as an empath with absolutely no luck. I’ve gone to my spiritual teachers, the internet (the internet doesn’t have all the answers?!?!), books, etc, and I’ve had minimal luck. A tidbit here and a morsel there. It’s so disheartening. Some things that work have side affects that I loathe. It’s basically like anti depressants that are also anti boner. Fuck. That. Shit. So tonight on a whim I renewed my search for empath resources and found a book that actually excites me. The bits I’ve read so far are honest and resonate with me. The author gets it. So maybe there IS hope for me and I can live a life that isn’t so goddamned lonely. Trees are lovely beings and all, but I so want a community and family and to not feel like I have to be a recluse all of the time so I CAN spend time with others. I don’t think for a second that this book will be a miracle book and fix all my shit and teach me to be super empath. I’ve been around long enough to not believe that. But I feel hopeful. And that feeling is refreshing. It’s been so long since I have felt it.
And a quick shout out to my dear friend, Cindy, who doesn’t really like poetry but reads my poems anyways. That’s some serious love. This one’s for you. #notapoem
stonehooper 