Dreaming Of Becoming Real

I don’t know where this is going to end but what I understand is it must begin somewhere.

I seems a lifetime since I began this journey and as cliche as it may sound, it seems but a moment has passed. Naturally what I have written to this point is but one small piece of the puzzle which is a life and there is so much more to search through, to discover and understand. At the same time I feel as though I have just been brought into this world, a confused soul trying to find my place.

I wish I could sit down with myself from all those years ago, not to say everything is going to be alright, because sometimes it will be and others it won’t, that is simply life. I would like to see, once again, where everything began, what thoughts I had, how I saw the world. I guess this is important because on so many levels I feel there is no connection between who I was even a few years ago, never mind decades. It is as if those years happened to someone else and I am seeing them as a peeping tom looking through a dirty window. Each sight and sound out of any context I can relate to. Inside jokes and shared secrets I am excluded from.

Maybe he died, all those years ago on a cold Winter evening. Even if the falling snow didn’t cover a physical body and cold, black water never wet the skin, maybe instead it was the spirit which was covered, the soul which was washed away…

I know nothing afterwards was the same.

I sit here wondering what to say, is there a way to reconcile to past with the present? Do I want to? Am I the real me or is he? Am I figment of imagination, a hope, a dream, or am I a nightmare given form?

I wouldn’t be surprised if there are those of you out there asking, “Again?” I can understand your feelings, I have had them many times myself at this point. One would think I was past all of the doubts, fears, and questions. It would be reasonable to expect to see me talking about confidence, self assuredness, and a feeling of finally being true to myself and the world in general… Well, such would be nice, but life is never so simple and my demons are are more stubborn. 

Much of this stems from something I have noticed recently which is how little difference I find in my feelings and the way I process my presence regardless of how I walk out the door; obviously presenting feminine or not, alone or in a crowd. I sometimes imagine myself within a bubble, unable to connect with anything. Sadness, fear, happiness… they all reside just beyond my fingertips leaving an expectation of depression and finding even it eludes me.

Is this what I am suppose to find? Is it me or the medications I take?

Before I began writing, there had been a lifetime of chaos. A constant storm of noise, emotions, and thoughts which tore through my mind, scouring away each day as light turned to darkness. There were entire months which passed without notice. So much which was said or done of which I have no memory.

Now there is only silence.

So why write this post? I want to know the truth. I want to know who I am, now, this moment… Am I a figment, a hope, a prayer?

Maybe a shadow or ghost dreaming of becoming real.






The Art of Silence


Keep silence


The art of silence: Understanding when no words are required or needed.

Does anyone else remember the a saying we heard as children; “Close mouth, Open ears?” I heard this from teachers who were trying to get it through my thick, ADD rattled skull that in order to learn anything I had to listen quietly. By talking in class I couldn’t hear what was being taught, and well. neither could the person I was speaking too. Not to mention it was rather rude and disrespectful. Of course I didn’t understand all of this until I was much older but the basic lesson stayed with me even if I have chosen to ignore far too often.

What as true in a long ago classroom is also true of relationships no matter if it a friendship or marriage.

If your too busy offering your thoughts and opinions, your not listening to the other person. You are being rude and disrespectful. Sometimes the other person just needs someone to listen. They aren’t asking for solutions, they don’t need you to fix a problem, they simply need a sympathetic ear and companionship.

It isn’t an easy art to learn and too often we tend to forget our lessons, especially when decide we have a personal interest in the subject. Yet that is exactly the time it is most required.

I am relearning this lost art, one day at a time, one conversation at a time. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I don’t but the most important thing for me is understanding this just one aspect of being a better partner and friend.