Blue Light Special

My first official relationship was really rocky. He pulled me out of the closet kicking and screaming, thinking I'd be grateful for the liberation he offered me. As he began to realize I wasn't going to give him what he wanted, he started saying things to me, trying to break me open - trying to break me, period. At one point, he called me 'damaged merchandise.' It was the first time I'd heard that expression, and the truth of it stung.

Like most of us walking around Battlefield Earth, I am indeed damaged, a screaming Kmart blue light special. This damage has left only pieces of me that are functional; I rarely function as a whole unit, especially when pushed to full throttle. I'm entertaining at times, but ultimately frustrating or deeply disappointing. Buyer beware!

The Lightning Scar

I have decided you are Voldemort and I am Harry Potter. Whenever I'm near you, the scar you left on my heart burns and I lose all composure. I can't think, my heart races, adrenaline courses through my body, and I start to sweat. I stammer and say stupid things. I'm incredibly self conscious and feel myself shrink in the estimation of your gaze.

It's been six years. I thought I was healed, and I am in a way. Love is all around me. I'm so lucky...so blessed...to have such amazing people to travel through life with. Especially Chris, who's so devoted, so loving. Yet, the memory of what I thought you and I had is buried inside me like a bullet, a shard, a splinter that works its way to the surface, pulled by your magnetism,  irritating everything in its course.

It's probably good you and I are no longer together. I would have done anything to please you, gone to any lengths to satisfy you. You were all that mattered. Family, friends, interests, commitments were all expendable when it came to you. It's good you left before I could complete the things I was doing to move everyone and everything out of the way for you. Had it gone on longer, there's no telling who and what I would have lost.

So, until the next time our paths cross, you enjoy whatever it is that puts that smug grin on your face. I'll go back to appreciating what I have and try to forget...again.

Pride and Proposals

The last two nights have been monumental for me. Saturday, February 14, I asked the love of my life to marry me and he said yes. Sunday, February 15, I told my family I was engaged. Because of their staunch LDS faith, this led to a discussion between my father and me about where this choice was taking me. It was a sincere, respectful conversation that left me in awe and gratitude at the amazing man I have been given for a father. (The rest of my family is pretty amazing, too.)

In the course of the discussion, my dad brought up the power of the teachings in Alma 5 in the Book of Mormon. I have to admit here that my views of the Book of Mormon have been dim as of late. I have been considering viewpoints that cast doubts on its provenance and its authenticity. Is it really the word of God?

This morning, since Presidents Lincoln and Washington allowed me a paid shift off from the library, I took a look at Alma 5. My father was right. Those words pack a wallop, and it’s because they’re true. They are true regardless of whether the Lamanites and Nephites really walked the American continent. They are true because of their powerful call to follow Christ. I am humbled by the words of Alma and, though my relationship with it might be a little different than it was before, I will not discount The Book of Mormon again.

This testimony isn’t the main reason I’m writing, however. I want to share what I found in Alma’s words and how I feel they relate to my current situation. The people that Alma was preaching to in the city of Zarahemla were descendants of the refugees from Noah’s kingdom. Wicked, fat King Noah (thank you, Arnold Freiburg) ruled his domain with the help of his priests who led the people to invest their hearts in riches and shallow relationships (“spending their strength with harlots” is how it’s phrased in the book). This allowed Noah to maintain his power and wealth. As long as the people didn’t turn to true religion, they supported his very lucrative form of idolatry. Enter Abinadai, whose powerful preaching converted one of King Noah’s priests, Alma, who in turn converted many others whose children and grandchildren eventually ended up in the city of Zarahemla.

Apparently, these children and grandchildren were falling into some of the ways of their forefathers because Alma’s son, Alma the Younger, hereafter referred to as Alma, felt the need to call the people to repentance. What were they guilty of? Verses 53 – 56 say they were “puffed up in the pride of [their] hearts” and persisted “in the wearing of costly apparel,” “setting [their] hearts upon the vain things of the world, upon [their] riches.” This pride led them to “persist in supposing that [they were] better than one another” and “in the persecution of [their] bretheren” who were humble and trying to follow Christ. These prideful people turned their backs upon the poor and needy, withholding their resources from those around them. Does any of this sound familiar? Isn’t this going on all around us right now?

So, it seems that Alma’s main concern was to get the people to swallow their pride and start caring about each other again. He wanted them to look past the blinding influence of materialism and heed the future Christ’s call to love one another as He loves us. (In regards to the harlotry in King Noah’s time, lest anyone accuse me of ‘slut shaming,’ this means we need to seek deeper relationships with those around us. It’s not so much about the casual sex as it is the fact that we’ve just treated someone like a Kleenex, which is so NOT how Christ loves people. It IS how we treat each other when we think we're better than them.)

For me, Alma’s words mean I need to stop spending so much money on entertaining myself, especially since I own more than I can ever watch or listen to. I need to support the Idaho Food Bank and stop ignoring the homeless man on the corner. I need to make sure I treat everyone with whom I come in contact as a child of God, loving them as purely as I am able. As far as Chris and I are concerned, Alma doesn’t really have much to say because as I told Chris Saturday night when I proposed, he teaches me to love every day.

Influence

My life has been filled with strong women, and I've spent much of my life dealing with the implications of their respective emotional states.  The people pleaser in me has often made it difficult to view this experience objectively and act in healthy, mutually beneficial ways. I had experiences yesterday with two very powerful women in my life that clearly illustrated this lack of perspective. Although I kept my cool outwardly,  inwardly I was devastated.

I think it's time to gain a better way of seeing and dealing with these relationships.

Anyone Have an Aspirin?

There are times my head hurts from trying to contain all the perspectives that flood my consciousness. Perceptiveness and intuition are gifts that come with a price. Often, I envy those who can be single-minded in their view of life and course of action, who don't over-think every move they make.

There are many who dull their sensitivities with illicit drugs, sex, or forms of fantasy...or all three. While I understand it and sometimes indulge in avoidance myself, I think it's more courageous to learn to live with all the voices, becoming a better navigator with the practice. Now what can I do about the headaches?

Ranting in a Safe Place

Regardless of whether or not you have authority over me, if you want me to jump on board with your little plan, you're going to have to take the time to make me think it's my idea or that I've had some say in laying out the course. Clumsy and inept as I am at using my agency, I guard it fiercely and immediately dig in my heels when I perceive that it has been disregarded or disrespected. I've always been that way, I always will be that way, and I won't apologize for it or change it. Deal with it.

Cleaning My Mental House

It took a surprising amount of mental effort this morning to make myself do the dishes before I turned on my computer and logged onto Facebook. It gives credence to all those who say the internet in general and sites like Facebook in particular are changing our brains, addicting us with their dopamine triggers. That's one enslavement I'd like to cast off, but do I want to swear off of social media entirely? At this time, the answer is no, though it may change in the future.

For now, I’m thinking of imposing on myself a housework-for-Facebook rule. If it works, I’ll have a really clean house and at least the illusion of self-control. If not, I will have to take more drastic action.