Category: Uncategorized

I went to the movies last night and saw “Brokeback Mountain”. For those of you who don’t know it’s about 2 cowboys who fall in love one summer while they’re herding sheep in the Grand Tetons. I read the story in the New Yorker years ago when it was published and remember being happy and surprised at the lack of politics and subjective commentary by the author, Annie Proulx. It is a love story, and the fact that the 2 lovers are both men was treated as a secondary aspect of the tale. The most powerful facet was the love that they shared and the different reactions to that love by their wives, families, and the world around them. In one scene, the 2 men meet after 4 years of being apart. Unfortunately they are observed kissing passionately by one of the wives. Her reaction isn’t disgust or shock, but rather the pain of a cuckolded mate who sees that there is someone more important, more deeply loved, than herself. Much of the film is set in Wyoming, but the story was written before the murder of Matthew Shepard. The director, Ang Lee, made a conscious decision to not politicize the film. I won’t spoil it for anyone anymore. Go see it, it’s a tear jerker.

My PTSD is in full bloom these days. I’m all alone in an old house (200+ years) that creaks, moves, and pops with the sound of the wind blowing outside and the baseboard heaters filling with hot water. It sounds as if there are a host of people walking around downstairs, ready to come up to my room and do whatever. I have visions of “In Cold Blood” mixed with “The Others” and numerous slasher flicks. The result is that I don’t sleep well. I am tense during what sleep I manage to achieve so my neck is sore, I sleep late, having fallen asleep at 4 or 5 AM. No matter how many times I check the house (behind doors, in closets, etc…) I still don’t believe the truth: I am alone in the place, not likely to be attacked. Next time my housemate leaves town for any amount of time, I’m asking a friend to stay over the night. There is plenty of room for all, including the things that go ‘bump’ in the night.

The upshot is that I am alone. I am also very envious of all the people I know who have someone in their lives. All I want is someone to go to the movies with, share a joke or a tear, have dinner, some physical intimacy and all that. The problem is that I never learned how to start that kind of relationship. My life was so self-centered for so long and confounded by a miserable self-esteem (ugly, stupid, bad) that these feelings have deep roots. I’m working on these issues in AA and with my therapist, but it seems a long time coming. I hope that time isn’t running out for me. I don’t want to go out lonely and afraid.

One interesting thing has occurred…

I gave my father the address to this weblog and he read some of it and wrote me back. I was very surprised at his comments. He said he liked the frankness and the tone, the haiku, etc…But that he didn’t feel comfortable reading my online journal. Not because of what I was saying, but because even though this is an anonymous writing it was not anonymous to him, and it made him feel as if he was going through my dresser drawer, snooping, if you will. So he will not read it, leaving me with the healthy boundary one needs from an anonymous posting. I wish my other family members would see the same boundary, or feel the same way about this particular posting, and do likewise.

Here are the haiku…

#215.
I shuffle around
like a grey mental patient
in my pajamas.

#228.
My cat cleans herself
calmly but with great purpose,
grooming for the hunt.

#113.
The cool blue ocean
and the deep green sea whisper
salty lullabies.

Johnnyboy

Christmas has passed with a sigh of gratitude and relief. This year when people asked me “what do you want?’ I told them to find items that they like and send them on to me. I think this is a nice way of giving. To try to make a list of my own wants is foolish, and this gives an opportunity to see a little bit more about the people in my life. So that was the message I sent out, and I followed the same path when giving, except for some practical gifts to my mother and one of my sisters.

I woke up Sunday morning with the realization that it was Christmas, and I could open my presents. My mother gave me a pair of warm slippers and a sweater, both of which I am wearing as I write this. My father sent along some books on writing and US naval history in the early 19th century as well as a couple of CD’s, one of which is a collection of traditional songs from the Auvergne region in France. As he said, “songs sung by goatherds to their flocks…”. It’s one of his favorites. His wife sent me the new Beatles biography, which I had been eyeing in the bookstore for a couple of months. My sister sent me some Bach, BB King, and a biography of St. Augustine. I received a book on film criticism from her husband. The gifts from my other sister to the north will come back with my mother on her return this week. So Christmas isn’t really over yet.

It has been raining for almost 18 hours now. If this had been snow it would have been up to my eyeballs.

I ordered the remaining books for my Lit class last night from Amazon. I have quite a stack of schoolwork to read already, and the semester hasn’t even begun! I’ll start what I can now and try to get a jump on January 23rd, when my first class meets.

One of the books I am reading is ‘Thousand Cranes’, by Yasunari Kawabata. The novel takes place in Japan during the late 1920’s or early 30’s, when traditional Japanese culture still thrives amidst what the reader feels (rather than sees) as the beginning of ‘modern’ Japan. Much of the story revolves around the Zen tea ceremony. All this is new stuff for me, like most of my life these days.

My visit to my friend’s family on Christmas Eve was wonderful. I was slightly nervous, but when I arrived this disappeared. I found myself acting like a real person in a social situation, not an outsider who needed something to relax or grease the conversation. It turns out that I was a big hit with the family. The food was great, the people witty, quirky, and warm , and I left around midnight feeling the true spirit of Christmas. When I was safely home I watched ‘Scrooge’, the musical with Albert Finney. It has always been one of my favorite takes on the Dickens tale and I watched in wonder as it was revealed that my life had changed in much the same way as old Ebeneezer. I am no longer isolating, hating life, struggling with circumstance, or wallowing in self-centered pity and cynicism. This hasn’t happened overnight, though. It has taken work and a lot of honest reflection. I am no longer a victim to my past, at least for today. Tomorrow may be entirely different.

Johnnyboy