This monkeys gone to heaven

Or that monkey.

We know today many many monkeys went to heaven… well ceased to exist. Along with all their dreams thoughts and secrets…. Interesting thing to contemplate the idea that one day everything you are thinking now, all the nightmares you had last night, those emotions that feel as though they are about to rip your throat right out of your chest will simply be gone and as such cease to matter , begging the question how much do they matter now?… Or maybe you don’t find it interesting, maybe you find it frightening  and would think me morbid for casually tossing thoughts of death around my brain. But where I am in my mind its not morbid at all, raised a Buddhist may have helped. death simply is. its a end point on a journey we will all take to fear death is to fear living because it is the inevitable conclusion of the later. Thats not to say the death of someone in my sphere doesn’t impact me, of course in my past blogs I think it quite evident I was greatly impacted by the death of my mother. And after all these 6 years with out her there still exists a hole, perviously filled with comfort love and familiarity, that lies empty, and probably always will. the raw sadness fades but the hollow will always remain.


Which is what brings me to my thought train of the new year. On the 29th of dec one of my dearest friends lost her father and it brought about a reflection (in an effort to try and express some comfort in the face of the ultimate discomfort) I being much further along in my process of grieving…. not sure if I like that term the grieving process, adds a mechanical element to it that I don’t believe in anyway comes close to describing it. it is not mechanical or logical and not really a defined process at all, more like a struggle against the very basic emotional being, a battle of wills between the amygdala and the prefrontal cortex. its a mess and no mechanism employed by our rational selves makes it a methodical “process”….


The comfort and advise I offered her was edited down from what I was actually thinking, but I do understand that there are the basic elements described in all those pamphlets you get about grieving that are true of all of us. We do seem to all experience roughly the same range of emotions when dealing with this loss. Currently she is in the anger stage… yes we all go there…the shock… the denial… the anger….etc…..


I have always viewed grieving as a slightly narcissistic emotional indulgence, yes my own grieving I view this way as well. it is very much about self. If you are to look at it from a purely analytical view point what are we truly grieving, where and why is there that hollow space (of course not believing in god or an afterlife I am not looking at the idea that our loved ones are still feeling or thinking anything) The person is gone , their suffering their happiness are now immaterial. our sense of loss is our empty chairs at the table, the  missing number on speed dial. one less ear to bend one less voice to make us laugh, all our personal experiences now have on less element enriching them, we are in fact grieving for ourselves and all those now missing things in our lives. this has actually helped me a good deal in the last couple of years not because it stops me from feeling any of these things but because I have a perspective on it. my mother had a long death of suffering and though she did not want to die there must have been some acknowledgement of the fact the pain was going away for good during those last breaths. She was ready to die at the end and I think simply because she did not want to continue to live as she was. but that is probably why we all are ready for death at the end, those of us that have the long downward spiral, perhaps not those sudden death victims, then there really isn’t any time to prepare.  thats it the though, dead don’t care. our grief is immaterial to their non existence and we can’t fool ourselves that the tears we cry in anyway are of benefit or solace to them, they are for us and about us, those left behind to find our new path without them….. of course even if it is mostly narcissism it doesn’t make any difference to the fact that we feel it.

That leads me to the next train i hoped… loss of trust in reality….Interestingly enough  i have never read in any of these pamphlets about the loss of trust and sense of betrayal …. maybe these are at the root of a lot of the grieving we do….


My father believed in magic, I mean not just card tricks and dragons, but really believed that human beings had some special energy they could use to direct the course of reality astral projection,  ESP, telekinesis, he believed all these things were real. He believed he had had out of body experiences, he claimed all through my childhood that his mother “knew” things and could communicate with the spirit world…. as a young child I believed these things as well, but my questioning of the world lead me to abandon these ideas through lack of credible evidence and large doses of reality… reality… My father continued to believe right through to my mother death… I think he thought, no believed, that part of my mothers first remission was due to all the meditating and energy he directed towards healing her (not the reality that her immune system fought off the first round). Of course when she was diagnosed with a return of the cancer he worked himself into an otherworldly froth. you could tell that he was straining his inner being in an effort to bring some magical healing, that along with investigating every alternative medical option, which I decried bullshit loud enough I managed to stop a complete financial ruin from being visited upon them. The point… through all my fathers expenditure of energy and effort my mothers disease progressed in textbook fashion to its inevitable and unhappy conclusion. and as sad and traumatised as I was, I was no where near as ruined as my father. reality had betrayed him, everything he believed to be true was now brought into question, and it continued to be shattered in the months following my mothers death. because try as he may to reach out to her through meditation to receive some evidence that she had continued on a journey somewhere, nothing presented itself. there was no feeling of being loved, or being watched over no messages no comfort just the harsh reality that the woman he loved died a slow painful death and that nothing he did or could do was going to change that….  he no longer trusted reality to deliver the routine or the love he expected….


that is only one way in which we can experience the loss of trust in our world, I think it is one of many ways those who believe in anything can feel betrayed, but it goes far beyond that, even for those  of us that attempt to keep ourselves grounded in the rational….


We wake up each morning with expectations of how our reality is going to present itself. For me currently now unemployed I would expect I will start my day with a thick cup of coffee to keep me awake while I’m lighting the wood-stove. at some point closer to lunch time my daughter will crawl out of bed and proceed to bitch at me about the mess I’ve left in the kitchen…etc… of course everyday is different but your mind knows what is likely going to happen in a predictable order, you have tasks goals you know what the world looks like on the way to work, what the menu is at your favourite lunch spot….. or do you? what if all the houses disappeared on your morning drive? what if the sun didn’t rise, or the colour of sky was purple instead of blue. Loss of someone close is like waking up in an alternate reality, one where you can not trust that anything you know will actually be there.  an integral part of ever routine you had and everything you knew is no longer there. they say that your brain fills in gaps in your vision with information from previous experience to make a complete field of vision. well when someone dies its like those gaps in vision are no longer filled in. everything is full of holes and you don’t know where to walk… all of a sudden (or maybe not so suddenly) you can’t trust whether you or anyone else around you will wake up tomorrow, and well someone didn’t…… you not only question your own mortality and the mortality of all those around you but whether anything will remain the same because anyone of any of those you interact with may indeed die leaving yet more of the world not filled in… and there is a deep maybe unnoticed feeling of reality having actually betrayed you, not only can you no longer trust anything to be as it “should be” but it seems as though perhaps there was a malevolent intent from reality itself to undermine your happiness and security. If you can’t trust the world you wake up in everyday then wtf can you rely on?


Ultimately I don’t have any advice or any answers for anyone, just opinions and experience not any more valid than any other monkey. I do know I resent shopping for my own pjs because my mother always bought them for me for xmas,  having to go pyjama shopping means facing the fact that my reality no longer includes her and that I still have holes in my vision that will always be there.


I tell my daughter to appreciate the fact that I always buy her socks and pjs for xmas because one day she is going to have to buy her own and it will be allot more difficult than she thinks.


For those who lost the children and not the socks, I imagine those holes are sometimes so vast that you can’t see where your going and perhaps reality has ceased to exist entirely…

moment by moment

one foot in front of the other

until we fall off the edge we can no longer see….


the light

I can’t help notice
No light in our eyes
In our eyes


Dreams mean nothing, in a predictive sense, your subconscious trying to say something to you? I know things that bother me pushed to the side often rear their ugly heads in my dreams over and over again. I used to have nightmares nearly every night but as age eats away at my cerebral cortex, brain activity slowing, the nightmares have gone from horror to a repetitive mundaneness that almost equals the horror of dead bodies and tsunamis.


Last nights dream was no exception.


background on the situation i created, that eats at me nearly everyday….


Sometime 23 years ago i feel in love. deeply madly take my breath away love. I am not ordinary, neither was he. it was a struggle for a few years to find a way through all our hang ups, apprehension and oddities. we never really found our way through those but found a way to be, despite them. there were some of the best times in my life and there were many bad times, there was never much communication about emotions. I liked to over communicate, he didn’t like to express his emotions at all. I was over emotive he dealt with mine and his own emotions but shutting down. I was plagued by my own madness, to much feeling and to little control. I would stray in an effort to find some happy place to take comfort, but ultimately I loved him too much to ever wander to far. His resentment built and every indiscretion I had traversed he held against me (I can’t say I blame him, but I sometimes resented his resentment. like a lizard eating its tail we spun around and around)


The city was killing both of us. his job was awful, my world was isolated and  dark. we had during this time healed some wounds but i think underneath it all the cuts were still deep and salted. Our new home away from it all helped, finances were tight (and that came to play a greater role in my psychological state later on) but the world was a little newer, we could both pursue our interests with a little more freedom and for the most part life was good. as mentioned in the previous post my mothers cancer returned and things became darker in my world once again. I gave up my job to care for her. we were living on the left overs of my inheritance from my grandfather. it didn’t last very long (there wasn’t much to begin with)  losing my mother changed my whole world , I had never felt alone and now i felt naked and exposed stranded, i realized i no longer had anyone to catch me when i fell… i wanted to think he would catch me, but i was unsure he even loved me, he never said it on his own (without my instigation that i remember anyway). …

I guess it all comes down to what i wanted him to be and what he was weren’t the same thing, and i never stopped expecting him to act and be someone he wasn’t.

None of the shit that transpired between then and the end really matters much, not to me, not anymore… actually none of the bad shit matters at all. life is far to short to let any of it matter much… i got the sense (and maybe my sense was wrong, i’ve never had much) the feeling of a deep unhappiness inside him. his mental state felt dark, and i was in a dark place (I’m still there) everything compounded……. I felt more alone than ever…. being alone is ok, as a matter of fact i love being alone, feeling alone is another beast entirely: that empty void where your thoughts and ideas  just drift off into nothing.  those days when you cant get out of bed and you know that no one gives a shit if you do, even you…..


Since my mothers death I couldn’t stand the uncomfortableness of being, some days an intolerable loneliness some days apathy without bounds.  my expectations have always been unrealistic i suppose the feeling that he should have surrounded me with love and pulled me out of my darkness was unfair. he had never been that person. instead we sunk together. I would cry myself to sleep on occasion but I wouldn’t call for him because i feared his disdain.  i resented him and his feelings and perhaps i blamed him for my own. so I became hard on the outside, and cold on the inside. i think i needed to be for my own sanity but it certain didn’t help anything in our relationship. I began to think we had become toxic to one another. i just wanted some light,  wanted to feel loved.  i needed strength and couldn’t seem to muster any on my own.


I met someone here, i’d known them for a while but hadn’t spent much time with them. they were always happy to see me, paid me compliments and made me feel special. and as much as I hate to admit it to myself…. to anyone… i think what i was hoping for was an opportunity to try and break the darkness that had encompassed me and my relationship. I had felt for a while that i would not be able to end my relationship  on my own. I had thought of a separation for us to get our heads together, for me to find some sanity and strength in myself. but honestly i knew and still know that the depth of my love for him was going to make this one of the most difficult things i had ever done in my life. i couldn’t do it on my own. 


Do i sound like i was a little confused?


i was trying to crawl out of my skin


The hardest thing I’ve ever done.


I mean being alive is really the hardest thing we will ever do. life is a continual process of loss, and learning to cope with that loss, continue, not cope. i’m not sure that many of us really cope, we forget we overlook we regret and we lament…… makes you wonder what the hell coping is. ignore that is what we do. ignore the pain ignore the hate ignore as much as we can so we can optimistically look forward trying not think about what we will lose tomorrow. coping … ha! sticking our heads up our ass is coping….


The hardest thing I’ve ever done… I suppose the worst of it was the lie. I knew i was lying, not like those lies we discover later when we realize we were lying to ourselves. no this was a intentional lie because I couldn’t face all the uncomfortableness of telling the truth. I wasn’t even sure I could make the truth make sense and afraid that i would become a coward and back out of it before i even managed to make it make sense. a lie was so much easier. I told him I wasn’t in love with him anymore, that i was falling in love with someone else. the truth was I did love him, probably as much as the day I met him although the passion had dissipated the love never had.  i was in love with the idea of being in love with someone else because it  made it easier. but it wasn’t easy.


i had to stay away from our house as much as possible just so i wouldn’t turn around and collapse begging forgiveness. he was so angry and so hurt and i felt so awful, so confused. i was hurting, but i had to stick to my conviction, i had to do this, i’m not even sure why. and perhaps i become less certain of why as i have gained more distance.  with that distance comes the questions i should have asked then, that i have no answers for now. with distance comes perspective, with  perspective comes understanding? someone told me that,  but exactly when does the understanding come in?


I still feel awful, maybe that is why it haunts me everyday.  i hurt him a few times over the years and i wish i could make him understand that i i never wanted to, tried to, but i was hurting and  he ended up being collateral damage as i frantically thrashed around trying to find a way to stop the emotional pain. I think one perspective i have gained is that maybe i will never stop trashing. seems i just trade one tragic state for another.

The dream I had last night was like all the others and probably not worth wasting text explaining. it all comes down to my emotions.


i miss him terribly i can’t help it. there was never anyone else i could relate to. he tolerated my darkness more than think anyone else could. we were alone together and i realize now that is how i like it. i don’t want someone who puts me on a pedestal and makes me the center of their universe. i want to be in my own universe and have someone in a parallel universe i can share things with… through a worm hole…… what my dreams tell me is; i think i fucked up, my choice was wrong. in an effort  to find some modicum of happiness, to crawl out of the darkness, i destroyed the one thing that brought some light into a darkness i will most likely never escape . and to be truthful i think the only thing that i have learned in my last year of searching myself and my dreams is….. stop trying to crawl out.


The thing about realizing i fucked up is that there is no fixing it…… its  just another stone along the pathway of loss that will culminate in the lights going out forever… no wormhole, no parallel universe no one to be lonely with…….. i would never ask him to forgive me, i would never beg or ask him to come back . in a long line of mistakes this one had a finality to it that leaves me feeling it  can never be undone…… i can only imagine how much he resents me now……


I just wish i could at least tell him, be honest and maybe open some communication about it. although what would that accomplish i am uncertain. most likely it doesn’t really matter. i not sure what does anymore.


back to the darkness.