Eclipse 2017

There was a lot of hype leading up to the great eclipse that took place a few days ago. I honestly didn't pay much attention. I was busy living my life one day, one minute at a time and feeling sorry for myself for the most part. The night before the big event I thought hey I should look for some glasses which of course were not to be found anywhere.  Normally I do things like this with my kids and since I had to work, I didn't sweat it too much.  It was just a natural phenomenon. Something that has happened since time began and will continue as long as time exists. I would likely be too busy to even watch.

That morning I had the pleasure of experiencing another event known only to the middle aged and older ladies- the mammogram.  After spending my morning hunched over two pieces of what was some see- through fiber glass or plastic plates that flattened the puppies into pancakes, I grabbed an appointment verification for my boss and headed to work.  When I arrived there were two of my co workers already outside trying to see as the eclipse was about to begin.  I'm not sure why I paused to chat, chatting hasn't really been my thing over the years.  Generally I do my job and don't socialize much.  More programming from my youth. As children we were taught never get too close to those outside the religion. Only those inside the circle, had a chance at surviving Armageddon, and even that was not a guarantee. It would be emotionally damaging to grow attached to a "worldly" person and then see their dead carcass being eaten by birds after their ultimate destruction.  Learning how to socialize or make friends was not something I was taught or felt comfortable doing. My friends were picked for me . Like the eclipse, my parents were a rare phenomenon as well.  They ended up divorced.  At the time this was almost unheard of among them. And like the eclipse, our situation was watched by our fellow religious members with curiosity and caution.  We were talked about, observed, and They always protected themselves from the damage that could happen if dismissed, as potentially dangerous. When very young my father and mother were higher up on the spiritual food chain. When they decided to divorce, something that was looked down upon and only allowed under strict, specific circumstances, they fell from grace.  My brother was 12 years older than me and already out of the faith, living on his own. I was still in elementary school. As the circumstances of adultery were met by my father, my mother was allowed a "scriptural divorce". However without a male figure head inside our family unit of two, she was also looked at as spiritually weak.  She was led to believe she was unable to be whole without the headship of a man as well.   We were for all intents and purposes, marked.  We were worthy of being part of the congregation but to be associated with caution as our weakened spiritual state could bring others into a low state of piety. So here I was, maybe 10 years old, unable to associate with those on the outside but unable to have close ties to anyone inside either.  I was essentially put into a bubble and unable to learn how to be a part of any group regardless the situation.  I was awkward at parties and get togethers. I was the wall flower. I worked hard in school and at jobs, came home, and mostly stayed alone in my room, imagining and pretending that I had a life or friends like other people.

I stopped where my co workers stood.  I had been reaching out more since my husband had moved out two years before, but it had taken me this long to even feel comfortable joining in like a normal person.  Soon a 3rd and a 4th came out. Before you knew it, the whole office was outside.  One person had the forethought to buy eclipse glasses, and we passed them around among the 20 or so that shuffled back and forth through out the event.  Before I knew it, I was having conversations and joking amongst my co workers.  Had I done this before? Yes.  But it was an odd feeling that day. As if I were watching myself from outside. I actually became part of a group, a team.  We comfort and care for others but here I am, right in the middle of the group, chatting and watching the moon float across the path of the sun. Look at me.  I have been employed here for almost 3 years and although it was a slow process I finally felt confident about my place in this little world.  I had blocked out the blinding light of my upbringing, that kept me from seeing my potential. I could see, I wasn't the wall flower here.  I was part of the nucleus.  I had eclipsed.

Changes

Changes are a fact of life. They do not have to be huge, drastic events. Every day, we wake up and change tiny bits, even if it is the simple fact of growing older, minute by minute. I was raised to believe I would never grow old.  My religion taught that Armageddon would come before I so much as got my first wrinkle, if I would make it through public school at all before salvation arrived, was pondered on daily.  I was one of the last hold outs in my small social group to leave the cult mentality. This left me bitter about loss of time that I could have been living, loving, and getting an education.  I was however, blessed with a family.  This family of a husband and four children that I told myself, we would build on and make up for the loss of so many other opportunities. I was still a traditional person.  I loved being a stay at home mom, cleaning, laundry, organizing. As a wife I would strive for perfection in being his right hand, his secretary, his vacation planner, cheerleader, and magic maker. Whatever the task, whatever he needed, I took as a personal challenge to make reality even if it was only a brief whim he mentioned in passing. This was what I had been directed to from childhood as the ultimate goal of a woman. And to be honest, even after having opportunities open up after my freedom from mind control, this was not a bad gig.  I felt good about my life.  Marriage was more than a promise or piece of paper to me. This was my partner, my other half, the person with whom I would be building an empire with.

I remember the day that I wanted to end it all. Standing in front of a crappy mirror in a half done bathroom inside a fixer upper that was deteriorating by the day.  Mid forties, the grey was showing , my eyes were blood shot and swollen from crying. My body broken down from stretch marks and time. A husband in full blown mid life crisis and alcoholism, who chose to move into a one bedroom apartment and share bunk beds with a promiscuous lesbian half his age because he said he needed peace and living with me did not give him any.  Kids running wild and arguing upstairs, bouncing off the walls, a job that was for additional income only, without a chance of supporting myself, much less my children.  I looked at myself, hating every last inch of me. Everything I had ever wanted and dreamed of having was broken or gone entirely. The anger was building up into a frenzy of panic and loathing. I picked up a 2x4 laying in my shitty bedroom and swung at the woman looking back at me in the mirror. I wanted to destroy her.

A fortunate thing about having a bedroom in the basement and free spirited, wild children running amuck upstairs is that no one heard the crash, or my sobbing. I don't even remember much other than I had some scratches on my arm. All my life there had been a tendency to self harm. A failure of perfection, missing the mark on a goal would be followed by a head bang to the wall or a shoulder to the door frame along with me berating myself for the stupidity of my shortcomings. I remember looking at the scratches, my heart still pounding from panic, crying uncontrollably, wishing I could make this roller coaster stop.  I picked up a piece of broken glass and slowly ran it across my skin.  I was disappointed that it didn't bleed.  I did it again and again with more pressure. Nothing but a few scrawny stripes and redness. I guess our litigious society had come up with a safety glass of some sort for mirrors.  However, my heart rate slowed down and an almost uphoric calm came over me.  I rested for a moment, got up on my feet, and picked up the mess.  Then I showered, put on clean clothes and went upstairs and took control of my house again.   The next day I was surprised at the area on my arms and legs. Streaks that looked more legit came up and burned. There was a comfort in the way they burned, just slightly uncomfortable enough for me to be reminded of the incident. Each uncomfortable rub against my pants gave off another sense of calm.

 I eventually had to face the destructive thoughts and deal with my pain professionally. How I got from blissfully content to having hurtful thoughts, I can not tell you.  It was a path that presented changes, both dramatic as well as subtle.  Never in a million years would I have thought I would have ended up in front of that mirror, facing the loss of my family, the home I once efficiently dominated, and my immortality......changes. They come to us all. We have three choices, accept and learn from them, bury our head in the sand and pretend not to notice, or exit the program.   These choices are in front of us every day as the world slowly keeps spinning. I still hate change. But as I snuggle up to my youngest and talk about her day, I'm glad that I did not choose option 3.  Changes....they can suck, but you can't stop them.