“All sorrows can be borne if you can put them into a story.” — Karen Blixen

I’m awake at 4am.  It’s hot.  I can hear the call to prayer.  Normally a cue to curl back into sleep.  But sleep doesn’t come.  I’m thinking.  Dark, damaged thoughts that make sleep impossible.  I’m thinking about this blog.  Wondering whether to write it.  Because, really, this is no longer a neutral place.  It hasn’t been for a while.  A place to bare the parts of me that don’t fit.  The parts that are ugly or fragile or dark.  I wonder whether I should start again.  Find another anonymous space, where my most vulnerable me can leak out.  Without shame.  Without making those I love uncomfortable.  The me that only a small handful of people see.  The shadow me behind the smiling eyes and fierce heart.

And then her voice is in my head.  “This year I’m going to be more brave,” she said.  This woman who is already so fearless.  And I think why not.  There are choices, and this is mine.*

LB has found another lover.  He has moved on.  And I have not.  Which is ridiculous.  Because I did the ending.  And I love him, so I am happy he is happy.  But it hurts.  It hurts. And it banishes sleep.  Wondering how I fucked it all up.  Wondering how they are together.  Wondering how I’m measuring up in the inevitable comparisons.  Thinking these things and then flushed with such awful self pity.  Such a fucking cliché.  (God, I hate a cliché).  And it’s all useless, wasted pain.  Because I did this.  I chose.

So I lie awake until the sun rises.  Get up and force myself into the world.  And smile and make small talk.  And hope.  Hope that this stupid self flagellation ends.  Hope that the smiling and small talk will click over into something more fluid and light.  That I’ll find myself again.  Hope that tonight I will sleep.

“…the most memorable concern of mankind is the guts it takes to face the sunlight again.” Charles Bukowski.


*There are going to be more of these.  I’ve been writing for ages, but not posting.  The writing helps. Like a purge. And I know the choice to start posting again will make some very uncomfortable.  And for that I’m sorry.  I hope you’ll understand.


18 thoughts on “Choices

  1. Rox says:

    Ah lady, I’m so sorry that the sads have come back. But I’m not sorry that the words have come back. I stand firm in my belief that you are a truly gifted writer, and those words are a part of you… maybe you just don’t feel them as much when you’re not in this space.

    After almost a year of losing myself, I am finally on the path to reconnection too, so your words make more sense than you could know.

    Keep writing and keep hoping!


  2. I know what you mean. Teh Sadz bring on the writing. I haven’t written properly for over 12 months. Does it sound sick to say I miss the sadz?

    • Dolce says:

      Not at all. I sometimes think the sadz are the only genuine emotion. But I know it’s just because too often I take the happiez for granted. And there is something seriously cathartic about what the writing does with the sadz. I sit on my couch and write and tears just drip onto my keyboard. But it makes me feel better.

  3. twin says:

    i wish i were as brave as you… *hug*

    • Dolce says:

      I donno twin. I can’t decide whether this is real bravery, or just stoopid cowardice disguised as something more. But I’ll settle for selfish? 🙂

  4. I know this is cold comfort but I’ve been there too, so I know what kind of stew you’re in. All I can offer is that it ends so s-l-o-w-l-y so that one day you don’t even realize it’s over. Also, like you, I’ve turned to Bukowski over and over again for the reasons why and he always delivers. Here’s a beauty from Chekhov:

    Any idiot can face a crisis. It’s this day to day living that wears you out.

  5. Rob says:

    I arrived by very different circumstances but I have a sense of that place about which you write. For me, it was cathartic and healing to anonymously put words describing my thoughts and feelings out into cyberspace. To have them read, even commented upon, by others. It doesn’t work the same for everyone, but I hope it works for you. To bring you even a small measure of peace. In the meantime, “fake it ’til you make it” is not such a bad strategy either. Wishing you hopeful tomorrows Dolce.

    • Dolce says:

      Helps me too. So much. But I don’t have real anonymity here anymore. I’ve met all 7 of my readers 🙂 Well, except you 🙂 And Robin. Oh and Kono. And HQ doesn’t count, coz she’s seen the photos. But you know what I mean! Oi vey. And then I remind myself that I live in real life, so maybe it ain’t that bad to have a half space.

  6. robinaltman says:

    If writing helps you feel better you should definitely do it, even if it might be uncomfortable for some. I have a feeling that he people you worry about are lovely, kind and understanding, and will be okay with your need for catharsis and peace. (Plus, selfishly, I love your writing, so I think you need to continue.)

    • Dolce says:

      Ag, I suppose I worry (like everyone) that when the lovely, kind and understanding folk realise what a moany, needy old bag I am, they’ll run for the hills.

      (And thank you!)

  7. kono says:

    I too write to work things out and hopefully you’ll be able to write your way through this, i hope you keep posting and i hope you post it all, i’ve posted things that have portrayed me in a less than flattering light, it would be a lie to think it’s all sunshine and puppy dogs, in the end it’s nothing like that, so don’t quit please, there’s not enough good ones out there, honest ones with guts, chin up… and happy new year.

    • Dolce says:

      That’s the thing, isn’t it? It isn’t about just raindrops and roses (and those damn whiskery kittehs). It’s hard. And lonely. And filled with brutal indecisive gray spots. And don’t encourage me. Wait til I start seeing the psychomalogacalist. Then we’ll have some guts. Great greasy tangles of them. Eep.

  8. daisyfae says:

    write what you need to write, wherever you feel you should write it. it is also a choice to ‘read or not read’, and if anyone is uncomfortable, then the reader-list can be modified.

    sending hugs. lots and lots of hugs…

    • Dolce says:

      You know me, Dais. It’s all out there on the line anyway. And that’s what I figured – read, or don’t read. I know I’ve culled a few from my RSS, and I’m ok with that.

  9. hisqueen says:

    I was already thinking along the same lines as DF. Write what you want, when you want. If it’s too hard for some, they may choose not to read or you can choose to make your blog a bit more private and give out passwords. I may not post many messages but I always stop by to see how things are.
    Here’s to hope, time, writing and healing..all working hand in hand to get you through the day.

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