Returning from my lacuna

I’m back.

Not totally.  I feel like I owe all five of my readers some sort of explanation about where I’ve been.  Are you sure you want to know?  I could sum it up by saying “to Hell and back” but I think if you live through something then it probably wasn’t Hell.  I’ve been turned upside down and tossed out of a moving train.  I packed up and moved in two days and returned to my hometown with nothing more to my name than my incarcerated boyfriend’s clothes and my junk, all going into storage.   All except anything I needed to survive on, living out of my aunt and uncle’s spare bedroom.  16 weeks pregnant and there I was, scared and humbled, waiting for the next phase.

The phases have avalanched and I am now “Jude’s mom”.  I love being Jude’s mom.  But more than that, I love the “Bre” being “Jude’s mom” has made me.  I feel so much more zen with him in my life (even though I flashback to just today at the grocery store when he was saying “all done” thirty times in a row and trying to jump out of the cart.. I love it, I really do!).  I know what matters and what doesn’t.  And if I wonder about it, I just have to ask Jude.  Of course he’ll tell me Goldfish crackers and Juicy Juice are must-haves but looking through his eyes I know that a hug on a glum day and an “I love you” can heal any wound.  With him by my side I am invincible.  I have to be.  And I love it.

Jay has been gone since January, 2010.  Jude was delivered September 10, 2010.  I have been humbled, strengthened, empowered and motivated since I found out he was going to be ours.  I know that God used Jude to show Jay and me what we had been missing.  No, we hadn’t been missing a baby.  We had been missing perspective.  And I say with confidence that we both have it now.

We are making the best of life that we can.  Overpriced phone calls and snail mail provide Jay with bi-weekly updates on what Jude’s up to.  It’s not enough — it will never be enough but we do what we can.  We don’t know the outcome of the situation but we trust that things happen the way they are supposed to.  I, personally, try to ask “what am I supposed to be learning right now?”

They say a mistake is only a mistake if you err twice.  I agree.  Otherwise it’s all a learning and growth process.  (My naysayers disagree but you may guess what my retort is..)  I feel like I have attained more wisdom in the past 27 months than most people my age have ever attained.

Mostly, though, I feel peaceful.  I’m excited about all of the ten thousand possibilities that lay ahead of me and I’m ready.

Also, I’m glad summer is almost here.


I’m taking a hiatus

I really wanted to delete this blog entirely.  But I can’t bring myself to do that.  First of all, I’m too lazy to go upstairs and get my flash drive so I can save the pieces I want to.  And secondly, I have a gnawing feeling that I’ll eventually, some day, come back to this place to update the world about how our lives unfolded.  Because the last few months have only been the beginning of a new chapter.

They unfolded abruptly and with tons of emotions swirling about but I’ve come to realize that I needed my world rocked.  Because I wasn’t living for God.  And now?  I am.

Life is a bumpy road.  But I take comfort knowing that God will never leave me nor will He dish up more than I can handle.

So, I’m taking a hiatus.  I’m going to strengthen my faith and walk with God.  I’m going to prepare to be a mother.  I’m going to continue to stand by my man.  I’m going to learn and grow in this time.

Thank you to all of my well-wishers.

And for my un-well-wishers?  Thank you, too.  I know there will be opposition in my life.  And you guys proved it.

Nonetheless, I say to all of you: God bless you.  Live every day as though it’s your last.  It always carries that possibility.

My Inner Peace

It’s been what feels like ages since I’ve been to this place.  My blog, I mean.  The biggest reason is that I don’t have a computer readily available to me at this time but I’m not sure that I would be here any more frequently, even if I did have it.  I’ve been doing something  my mom calls “soul searching”.  I’ve been evaluating what’s really important to me, I’ve been sifting reality from bullshit, and filtering drama, all the while holding my head up and placing one foot in front of the other. 

Eleven days ago I found out Jay and I are going to be parents.  Think what you will, scoff if you like, but Jay and I both are convinced that this baby is from God.  We know that it isn’t “the right time” and “this isn’t how we wanted things to be” but you know what?  I am so sick and fucking tired of hearing “it shouldn’t have been this way” or “the timing is off”.  You can plan your life until you’re blue in the face but I truly believe that God has plans for us all.  I could waste my time and energy wallowing in what-ifs and shoulda-coulda-woulda’s but I choose to move forward.  I choose to be happy that I’m participating in two of God’s greatest miracles: pregnancy and parenting.

In my heart of hearts I know that Jay and I are strong people and select members of his family and nearly all of mine have expressed such joy and optimism regarding our newest addition.  My mom has shown such strength and support that I feel foolish because I kind of forgot she had it in her.  She has listened to me cry, laughed with  me, encouraged me and quieted me.  All at the right times.  Jay’s dad makes sure I get a call almost every day, usually containing a message from Jay (that always is something like “Jay says he adores you and that you guys are going to make it through this”).  While his dad may have been absent in the past, he is anything but in this situation.  He has made sure Jay has money to purchase stationery and deodorant, envelopes and a toothbrush.  He had the money to Jay before Jay could say “lawyer”.  He has proven that he truly supports Jay, never drawing a judgment or spatting a harsh word from his own personal hurt and sorrow related to this situation.

I have experienced a variety of reactions about this baby and while I acknowledge the concerns, I refuse to listen to pessimism and negativity.  Because I am past that.  And it’s counter-productive.  When I have so little energy these days, why would I waste it on that??

I was deeply offended by Britt’s post.  To me, it felt entirely negative, as if I were bearing a dark cloud that will forever rain on us all.  I was assertive enough to tell her, too.  I understand that we are all free thinkers and that this situation does not affect only me but I do feel that I am most directly affected.  Jay is a part of me, literally and figuratively.  He is the love of my life and I am his.  And now we are three.

Over the course of this month, Jay’s brother has decided he doesn’t want to speak with me, either.  I am completely at a loss about this, considering he was our number one cheerleader no less than two weeks ago.  I know that we all deal with things differently but it still feels like rubbing alcohol in a fresh cut.

And yet, I am still at peace with things.  I know things are tough but I also know that I’m tougher.  And once Jay and I are out of this dark tunnel we will live a quiet, honorable life.  And those who have shown us love will be right there beside us.

I’m reading a fabulous book that I attribute most of my peace and strength to: A New Earth by Eckhardt Tolle.  It’s phenomenal.  Life changing.  I recommend it to everyone.

And I’ll close with an excerpt:

                                                                    THE PEACE THAT PASSES ALL UNDERSTANDING

There are many accounts of people who experienced that emerging new dimension of consciousness as a result of tragic loss at some point in their lives.  Some lost all of their posessions, others their children or spouse, their social position, reputation, or physical abilities.  In some cases, through disaster or war, they lost all of these simultaneously and found themselves with “nothing”.  We may call this a limit-situation.  Whatever they had identified with, whatever gave them their sense of self, had been taken away.  Then suddenly and inexplicably, the anguish or intense fear they initially felt gave way to a sacred sense of Presense, a deep peace and serenity and complete freedom from fear.  This phenomenon must have been familiar to St. Paul, who used the expression “the peace of God which passeth all understanding.”  It is indeed a peace that doesn’t seem to make sense, and the people who experienced it asked themselves: In the face of this, how can it be that I feel such peace?

The answer is simple, once you realize what the ego is and how it works.  When forms that you had identified with, that gave you your sense of self, collapse or are taken away, it can lead to a collapse of the ego, since ego is idenitification with form.  When there is nothing to identify with anymore, who are you?  When forms around you die or death approaches, your sense of Beingness, of I Am, is freed from its entanglement with form: Spirit is released from its imprisonment in matter.  You realize your essential identity as formless, as an all-evasive Presence, of Being prior to all forms, all identifications.  You realize your true identity as consciousness itself, rather than what consciousness has identified with.  That’s the peace of God.  The ulitmate truth of who you are is not I am this or I am that but I Am.

Whenever tragic loss ocurs, you either resist or you yield.  Some people become bitter or deeply resentful; others become compassionate, wise and loving.  Yielding means inner acceptance of what is.  You are open to life.  Resistance is an inner contraction, a hardening of the shell of the ego.  You are closed.  Whatever action you take in a state of inner resistance (which we could also call negativity) will create more outer resistance, and the universe will not be on your side; life will not be helpful.  If the shutters are closed, the sunlight cannot come in.  When you yield internally, when you surrender, a new dimension of consciousness opens up.  If action is possible or necessary, your action will be in alignment with the whole and supported by creative intelligence, and the unconditioned consciousness which in a state of inner openness you become one with.  Circumstances and people then become helpful, cooperative.  Conincidences happen.  If no action is possible, you rest in the peace and inner stillness that come with surrender.  You rest in God.

A New Earth pp. 56-58

That passage is what speaks to me and I’m keeping my shutters open, letting every and any ounce of sunshine in.  I’m not masking my hurt by doing that, I’m yielding to it.

Just the “girlfriend”

I’m feeling desolate, broken off.  I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a bumpy street, staring at a sign that says “Road Closed”.  Let me cut the cryptic bullshit.  I feel upset.  I feel hurt.  I’m just his girlfriend, not even his wife, yes, but I know I mean more to him than the term “girlfriend” entails. 

I keep telling myself “I get it.  I’m not his family, his flesh and blood.”  But it still hurts.  It hurts because I cannot even count the number of times I have heard Jay’s voice tell me “You’re all I care about when this is over, I don’t want to lose you.”  Which usually makes tears spring to my eyes.  “I’m not leaving you, I promise.  I promise, I promise, I promise….”  I need him to believe those words.  Because I know they mean the world to him.  And I mean what I say.  I’m not leaving.

People are so gracious and supportive and kind, offering prayers “…for Jay and his family.”  But I don’t fall into that sentence, not without assumption.  It hurts me, yes.  Is it selfish to be rambling about this minor detail?  Probably.  But blogging is my therapy.

I’m tired of thinking about the what-if’s and the how’s and why’s of the penal system.  I’m tired of worrying about what other people think of me, whether they view me in the light of “just his girlfriend” or “love of his life”.  All I care about is what is between Jay and I.  I know how much Jay loves me and he knows how much I love him.  Sounds like basic math, right?  Factor in members of a family with many emotions and I start feeling like I’m insignificant.  Just the girlfriend. 

Jay’s brother is probably the biggest cheerleader our relationship has right now.  Jay and he could be twins, I swear.  Their mannerisms are so much alike, it’s uncanny.  Oh, yeah, my point…  Jay’s brother has faith that I’ll remain good on my word.  And he even offers supportive sentiment such as, “He’s crazy about you; I know you guys will get through this.”

I have learned so much from this already.  And it is only Day 6.  I am learning that judgments don’t propel anyone forward.  Love is love, no matter the title.  Strength comes over time, and you might just surprise yourself at how strong you are.  Nobody is perfect.  Good people make bad choices. 

I guess I do not care what opposition I may face, my loyalty lies with Jay.  Our love is between only us, nobody else.

Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Wizard

You probably know about my situation.  Well, not my situation, per se, but the situation the love of my life is in.  He is the keeper of my heart, so I guess it is my situation, too.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I cannot say much regarding this.

I use this blog as a place to vomit my feelings, fears, hopes, questions.  I am here now because it is like my diary.  An open diary, yes, but still a place where I can have something akin to a cathartic experience.  I guess the only thing that makes blogging different (for me) from catharsis is that I don’t feel spiritually renenwed after I write about this tough stuff.  I don’t feel better, just less anxious.

The Wizard of Oz is playing through my head.  I don’t know if it’s because Jay and I watched it together so many times or if it’s just meaningless.  But the characters stick in my mental picture, each of them symbolizing a piece of strength that I’m trying to summon.

First and foremost, I feel like I woke up in Oz on Friday morning.  That was when I first learned the news of what Jay is up against from the detective.  The wind was knocked out of me and I was in disarray.  (I still am.)  When I opened the door to my home, I was awestricken.  I knew from that moment on that nothing would ever be the same and also that I cannot comfortably be there without him there.  Much unlike Dorothy, my life has not repaired itself in the two to three hours of the movie’s length.  It won’t be that easy, because Oz is not real and this is the most real situation I’ve ever had to face in my life.  Not to mention Jay. 

Like Dorothy, I have always been a dreamer.  I dream of a better life.  Even now, I still daydream about the years after this mess is over.  And I know that that could be many years.  But I refuse to stop dreaming because that is what propels me forward, most of the time.

Sometimes I sit in external silence.  My mind is always reeling with thoughts, fears, hopes.  My mind is never silent.  Jay is always there.  Sometimes I can see him happy and joking, or calm and kissing me; sometimes I see him alone in the cell, orange jumpsuit.  I guess I don’t really care in what form Jay comes to my mind, just as long as he’s there.

I think about the Scarecrow.  “If I only had a brain.”  I relate this character to the “shoulda coulda woulda” sequence that is probably rolling through everyone’s mind.  Shoulda done this, shouldn’ta done that.  But you know what?  It’s been done.  And the only thing to do is continue on this “Yellow Brick Road”.  I think, for my own intents and purposes, I am going to rename it the “Black Suck Road”.  Because I can.

Then the Tin Man.  I feel serenity when I think of the Tin Man because I believe that I have a big heart.  My heart is reminding me constantly that I love Jay and through love all things are possible, right?  RIGHT?!?  I know that my heart is hurting and in those moments of despair I feel like it’s not even there, but I know it’s true.  That’s one less thing I have to ask the Wizard for.

Oh, and the Lion.  He’s the character I identify most with, I think.  Because the thing I need the most right now is courage.  Courage to face the opposition of standing beside the love of my life.  Courage to feel his absence but not to be lost in it.  Courage to keep hoping for a miracle.  Courage to be good on my word to Jay, words that I speak with ferocity: “I am NOT LEAVING YOU.”  End of story.  That’s the only way I see it. 

The Wicked Witches and Flying Monkeys are going to try to punish him, for that is their job.  But I’m praying that the Witches and Monkeys will unveil their eyes and see before them a good, kindhearted, gentle person who knows he has wronged people but also knows he can be better.  If they will just do that.  For Jay. 

That’s where I need the courage.  The courage to believe that people are good, and that good people can identify other good people.  Where the Hell is Glinda when you need her?  I could sure as fuck use that cute little wand adorned with a shiny star…

All in all, there is no place like home.  For me, I’m not quite sure where home is right now.  I guess I don’t feel like anywhere is home without Jay.  But I need the courage to put the melancholy feelings aside and lift my chin.  I need to start working on taking care of myself so I can get through this long road of anticipated 20 minute visits and letters to an inmate. 

My M.O. right now is to prepare for his return, no matter how long until that happens.  I will work and sleep and eat and write and visit, all for the end of the road.  When I can hug and kiss him and sleep next to him.  I am willing to fight  my way out of Oz for Jay.  Yesterday, today, tomorrow. 

So, it seems we’re off to see The Wizard, or the Judge.  Is The Wizard going to feel generous?  I don’t know.  We have to wait and see.  But I’ll be replaying the Wizard of Oz in my head over and over until I know anything for sure.  I’ll latch on to the idea that courage is attainable.  I’ll latch on to the knowledge that I do have a heart, filled with love.  And onward I go, down the Black Road of Suck.

If you see Glinda, could you direct her to me, please?

There aren’t words.

I can barely formulate any words besides “I love you” and “I don’t know”.  At times I can’t breathe.  At times I’m comatose with emotions and being drained- physically and mentally.  I’m here with Jay’s mom and sister.  They’ve beat me to the punch, posting their thoughts and feelings. 

I, legally, cannot divulge.

I, as a human, can continue to love.  That’s all I’m clinging to right now, the love of my life.  The unknown drives me to insanity but I don’t care.  I’m hanging on for him.  For me.  Because he is a part of me. 

Jay is a good person.  He wouldn’t hurt a fly.  He loves kids and couldn’t wait to start a family with me.  As it stands, he may or may not get to be a daddy.  I don’t know.  Nobody does.  What I do know is that I can’t wait to hear his voice on the phone today.  I can’t wait to go visit him on Monday.

I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait.  But I have to.  We all do. 

They say I’m a part of their unit.  I am eternally grateful to be near them during this time.

All I have is love.  I love him, no matter what. 

There just aren’t any more words.

I’m Turning 23!

Wow.  It’s weird to say “23”.  It was weird to start saying “22”, too.  I predicted that I would feel this way, too.  I vividly remember a conversation with my girl friends in high school.

“You know what?  Turning 21 is going to sorta suck, too.”  My friends looked at me, their faces quizzical.  “Why?!”  “Because, I mean, we are so excited to turn 21 but we’re gonna have some, like, after-effects.  Like, ‘Now what?'”  My friends ultimately agreed with me.  Deep down inside I wanted to enjoy every year of my twenties.

Now, I’ll be 23 on January 24.  Can I just say that I’m way more excited for my birthday next year?  Is that strange?  Isn’t it easy to see why, though?  It’s my golden birthday.  Next year.  Anyways… I love my birthday.  I always start a Birthday Countdown on Christmas Eve.  I don’t really know why I’m so infatuated with mah birthday, I just am.  It’s not a characteristically Aquarius thing, either; I checked.

My real point is this:  I feel there is a huge difference between being 23 and being 21, even if it is just two years’ difference.  The main reason I say this is because I’ve noticed I’m perfectly content sitting at home, sipping wine and watching my favorite shows or doing other lassaiz-faire activities (blogging, reading, etc.) whereas most 21 year olds are rip-rearin’ to go, just dying to go out and party.

Yeah, yeah.  I did it, too.  And I know nearly everyone who reads this will be all like “You’re NOT OLD. Stop talking as though you are!”  And to that I’ll reply,”Shut up.  I’m expressing my thoughts!” 

Oh, you’re still reading, even after the conversation I just had with myself via blog?  Good! 

But, really, do you know what I’m sayin’? 

Even one of my friends from high school tweeted about staying home and doing nothing on a Saturday night and loving it.  And I just think that calls for a “Hell yeah!”  Because I’m the girl who’s perfectly content being a homebody.  Don’t get me wrong, I can still throw a round of darts and shoot whisky.  Don’t worry your pretty little head ’bout that. 

I’m just saying that I feel more mature and calm.  But maybe that’s because I’ve always known how to handle myself in a bar? 

There are only 19 more days…  In nineteen days (from tomorrow, a full day) I’ll be only two years away from 25, the whole mid-twenties plateau.  I’m excited.  I’m finallly catching up to the “how old I really feel” range.  (I’ve felt like I was 25 or 26 since I was 18.  Really.)

In 19 days I’m going to show those freshman-too-tanned-bitches how to do it right.  Even if it is Sunday night!

Aw, Hell, I’ll probably end up eating Arby’s for supper and just drinking wine at home.