I'm sick and alone and feel like ranting. Brain is not functioning well right now, due to a fever, so I'll probably regret this when I'm more lucid.
You're still stalking me; I can feel it. It's not a physical or a virtual stalking anymore (I hope), but you're still there. You sent your light body to me once when we were together. At that time I was able to barely catch a glimpse of it, and it scared the crap out of me. (I "saw" more things during those days, than I have before or since. Your physical presence had some kind of effect on me… What were you shedding?) (I'm also fully convinced that your estimation of your abilities exceeded your actual abilities.) But anyway, I wonder how often you've sent your light body (or tried to) since the breakup, and maybe I just haven't been able to perceive it. But anyway, even though I can't see it anymore, I still know you're doing it. Or you're doing something, at least. Whether you're doing it consciously or unconsciously, I don't know, but something's pulling on me.
Dammit, it's annoying.
Do you know what love is? You must know somewhere deep down, that if you really loved me you would --at very least-- not want me to suffer. Love doesn't hurt its beloved. How about respect, do you know what respect is? Have you figured this out in all your wanderings yet? What's your real motivation, here, have you stopped to look at that? Do you think you're sending out your stalker vibes for my good, have you really managed to convince yourself of that? Or are you, perhaps, still trying to get your mommy fix?
Or maybe it's revenge? Revenge. How small. Are you any better than the God of the Old Testament, oh gnostic one?
OK, now that I've gotten that off my chest…
I realized something awhile ago, which I can't believe I missed during those months. I was so focused on the Libra moon activating my Mars-square-Sun, I missed the simple fact that it is, first, a Libra moon. Libra moons don't want to get all mushy and intense and deep and passionate. Tears ruin your make up, darling. Keep things pleasant and lovely and balanced, that's the way, dear.
I'm sorry. I somehow overlooked that. My insistence on emotional intensity must have made you incredibly uncomfortable. My Pisces moon ruled by Jupiter in Scorpio likes to feel. I ache, and weep, and writhe, and grind, and dive, and gasp at the dramatic, spiritual twists and turns of the motivations behind all those emotions. Lovely and balanced? Pssshhhh. Step into my fractal.
There's a reason inconjunct signs are considered quite difficult to merge. I feel I owe you an apology for that part. I didn't recogize or nurture that part of you. My triggered Mars-in-fall was too busy feeling irritated. I don't even fucking wear make up, you sparkly bastard!
But! Of course, there's definitely a place for peace and loveliness, and Libra moons are gifts to the world. It's a wonderful skill, to be able to create that space where we can all take a breath and get some perspective. We need Libra moons. I need Libra moons. I'm sorry I didn't bring this into my consciousness during that time.
Of course, there are so many things that could be said about that time, so many questions to be asked. So. many. Huge cans of worms. I can't run everything through astrology; I believe in letting our forebrains rule us. It was so dysfunctional in so many ways. It still makes me sad, the potential, though… But maybe that's just because you're still pulling on me. Maybe if you'd stop, I'd stop suffering.
I've started watching X-Files. The original series, not the new ones. They remind me of you, all your conspiracy theories and stuff. Can you believe I never saw the show? Maybe you forgot I grew up under a rock. Anyway, a friend said it's a classic show and I'd like it. And I do… but the episodes are so scary, too! I might have to take a break, because it's getting hard to fall asleep. I wish I had someone to cuddle with while watching, to absorb the fright. I wish I had someone who would listen to me as I point out all the plot holes (every show has at least one!), and who could help me sort out truth from fiction and tell me stories about sociopathic bureaucrats in past lives. Who could work with me to imagine alternative storylines that don't have the plot holes, who could reassure me that I'm safe and the aliens aren't going to come get me, who could help balance me back out so i could get some sleep and not be scared.
I guess that someone would have to not have addiction problems, first of all, that's a good starting point. I should've checked for that before jumping in. Live and learn. Oh, and lying is a deal breaker too.
But oops, there go those worms, peeking out of that can…
Even if by some miracle you read this, I'm sure you won't listen to it. Listening was never your strong suit. Too busy creating your own alternative reality and responding to that instead of the real world. Was I just a prop on that alternate-reality stage of yours?
when props start having minds of their own and saying things off-script, I'm sure, darling. Don't you hate it when that happens? Damned autonomy and shit. Crazy thing is, you didn't even seem to know you were on a stage; you believed your own delusions.
Oops, more worms, sorry.
I hope you're OK. Why I rant now, I don't know, except that I've been feeling you try to pull on me at that invisible, deep level of existence.
Why do I hope you're OK? Do I care about you? Yes, I care about you, and I didn't want things to turn out the way they did.
I wonder if you'll ever own your part in it.
I want you to be OK. I want everyone to be OK, and I hate being part of someone's not being OK, even if that someone made all the self-destructive choices to get to that state of not being OK. But I can't and won't take responsibility for your choices. I have to hold that tension of caring for you but not being responsible for you. Hard for someone with such strong Cancer and Pisces. But I think I got this. I just wish I didn't still feel that niggling something down in my bones. Call off the dogs, don't be a jerk, and take responsibility for your own life. I was only reacting to you; own that.
You know, there's a Venus Rx coming up. They tend to affect me, since i have natal Venus Rx. This one will be a doozy, because at the end of the Rx period, Venus will station direct one degree away from my Moon. Meanwhile, my progressed Mercury is conjunct natal Venus, and progressed Venus is conjunct natal Mercury. Woot. I don't know what's going to happen that day, but I've circled the date on my calendar.
Maybe I'll meet someone. Or maybe I'll turn on Skype and you'll be there. I don't know. I wouldn't call the cops or anything. Believe it or not, I haven't found anyone while you were gone. A few dates, nothing even remotely promising. I'm back to my typical pattern of life being a big zero in the relationships department.
All your elaborate ideas about how I cheated on you were completely fabricated in your own brain. When I left you, I knew I was stepping back into lonely land, and that's where I've been ever since. It's the worst feeling in the world, loneliness, but I chose it knowingly, sadly, with dread… because of how you were treating me, and the unacceptable risk you were putting my children into. Losing you cost me more than just 1300 dollars, you know. There were other losses too, which I won't detail here; a list of losses. I don't think you appreciate that. You never bothered to step into my shoes. But there were a lot of losses, that hurt. That's how adamant I was, that's how bad I felt the situation was.
Maybe I'm ranting now because the part of me that wants closure wants to know if you ever were able to look into the mirror and see what you did, or if you are still living in an alternative reality in which you were totally right, and I'm a monster. It would be nice to know if you've ever been able to face that, I guess, to have my sanity and morality vindicated. But I suppose, watching the Xfiles is training my brain to be less needy for closure. Most of the episodes close with unanswered questions and mysteries that will never be fully solved.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
I strive to love myself, and most days I do. I love my unique blend of abilities to think, to feel, to intuit, to attract, to act, and to control.
Think. Feel. Intuit. Attract. Act. Control.
These are all vital functions of the psyche. I could wish for a little more in the intuition and attraction departments, but mostly, I am grateful. Everyone is unique, and everyone has a place in the world. I like how I was made. If anyone tries to change me, I react with scorn and indignation. I am grateful for who I am!
I do wish I were better at releasing the right functions at the right time. Sometimes I Think when I should be Feeling, or Act when I should be Intuiting, and so on. But... I suppose... Who's in charge of "should"? It's a matter of using the function at the right time that gets a result that makes me happy, ultimately. But I am not very good at judging which is the right one for the situation, nor of controlling which one rises up, when. It's like each function has a mind of its own and rises up when it wants to. It often produces awkward moments, where I feel out of place with the world, unsure of myself and unhappy with the results. But even this awkwardness, if it is what it is, is how I was made, and I should love it. I'm doing me. And I'm trying to love it. Maybe I will get more skilled in regulating and controlling all of these functions as I grow older and keep trying.
The function I have been pondering a lot lately is the Thinking function. It might be my strongest one. It's my default. I am very conscientious--I have a very strong sense of "should," and always strive for what is "right." I have a firm grasp on reality, and a head for logic. I am critical and skeptical. I love this about myself. It keeps me honest, open minded, realistic, consistent, and accurate. It sometimes paralyzes me in over-analysis, which can be annoying. And it sometimes leads me to self-judgement and harshness, which sometimes leaks out onto others as well. If people only knew-- as judgmental as I can be of others, I'm 100 times more so with myself.
So, obviously, this trait can be dysfunctional, but it has a lot of strengths, too. I am an excellent editor. I can figure things out. I can create structures and systems that work flawlessly. I can see through bullshit. I can discuss intellectual ideas.
To love my strengths is to remove the poison from them, preventing them from becoming weaknesses. Right? So the theory goes; we shall see. Loving myself. It's no small thing. Because despite how hard I've tried, my life hasn't been what I wanted.
I do hope I can do better than I have in the past to make the most use out of how I was made. Looking back, I think I have wasted a lot of what I was given, even though I always tried so hard. But I can't change that. Only now counts. I hope I can learn to be as grateful for my past as I am for the present and for my potentials.
This is why I react so strongly against someone trying to change me, even slightly. Nobody has the right to control me, and nobody has the capability of, or motivation for, scrutinizing my life as I, myself, already do. Nobody could be more serious about improving my life than I already am, and nobody understands the long string of circumstances and choices that brought me to where I am. Nobody knows more deeply than I do, that in each circumstance that arose in my life, I tried my absolute hardest to do what was right. For anyone to presume that they know better, that they can take over my ability to think, is highly insulting. Maybe I overreact a bit when it happens, I don't know...
I struggle with the fact that I struggle. It's a weird tension between loving what is and working for making things better. If I love what is, what motivation do I have to notice injustice, dysfunction, imbalance, and suffering, and to use my gifts to alleviate those things? How do I find the resolution between these two things--resting in what is and working towards what should be?
And then, how can I both love myself and come to terms with the fact that "me-doing-me" sometimes leads to mistakes, pain, suffering, and injustice? When I am harsh with myself, I know that is violence and ingratitude, but maybe me being harsh with myself is also part of who I am. Why would I shut down part of who I am, if I am supposed to love who I am? How do I resolve this, grow through it, and hold on to love?