Saturday, September 10, 2005

Relax, Relate, Release...


I apologize for my previous post. I was so steamed up that I didn't even proof read it. Talk about raw emotion, I sympathize with all who had to read a paragraph twice to get my punch lines. Yeah, and the profanity, I was a bit uncouth. I mean, New York is "the financial ball sack of the nation" but I guess I didn't have to actually say that. Things are starting to subside and we are gradually returning to normalcy. A higher offical gets a slap on the wrist (Mike Brown is returned to Washington, not fired) and people put the blame on the little guys. As if New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin could have really been prepared. "Why wasn't the Superdome stocked with food? Why weren't the poor bused out ahead of time? Why were the buses left in low lying areas? He's no Rudy Guiliani." Yep, sounds about right. New Orleans has no money, the only way out of the city is I-10 and the whole city is several feet below sea level. The hurricane shook to the left at the last minute. But it has to all be Ray Nagin's fault. After all, he's obviously irrational as he publicly spoke down to federal officals. I thought about going off today. Joe Scarbourgh commented on how inept the Louisiana and Missisippi are at handling hurricanes and used my state (and his I guess, since he was US Rep. for a while) of Florida as a "good example". I thought about going off and noting the fact that we already had our catastophic disaster (Hurricane Andrew), that as a peninsula our entire state is vulnerable to the 17 hurricanes we seem have a year and hit by 15 of them,so we are used to it. I thought about noting that Florida is one of the most well-off states of the nation and that uh, our Governor is the president's brother and that perhaps that has a small influence on why Florida is better at handling hurricanes than Missisippi and Louisiana the absolute poorest states in the nation. But I decided to not get my pressure up today. Breathe, Stretch, Shake, Let it go...

I have an awful problem with anxiety and this week was chock full with bits of stressors to make me come off as a basketcase. (Well, more of a basketcase than usual) It was week two of this doctoral program and (wait...breathe in, breathe out) all the advanced students can talk about is how this is going to be the most horrific experience how the comprehensive exams have a failure rate of just 75%!!! When I found myself in my office from 9am to 3am...for the love of God...studying, I figured they weren't just trying to scare the first-year students. Afterwards I arrived to class to find my classmates reading a book that I didn't own, much less read! Now picture me in my chair, palms sweaty having a panic attack. "What am I doing here? I don't belong here," repeated over and over in my head. In a desperate fight against the sick over-whelmed feeling I felt so frequently while doing my masters, I took a break from reading, signed up for Yoga. I refuse to go crazy. Breathe, stretch, shake, let it go...

9/11 means a lot to me too so I apologize for the insensitive comments towards New York in my last post. This month of September is a significant time of reflection for me and even a bit of grief. It's difficult because it was this time last year when my world had just began to break apart. Labor Day weekend I was in Chicago with my best-friend at the Navy Pier, the both of us trying to figure out how we got where we were. The both of us screaming "why me?" for reasons totally unrelated. I remember holding her hand, heart heavy, stomach turning, completely disappointed and disillusioned, dreading my return to New Orleans. And how selfish of me, for my friend had to come to grips with the fact that life was never going to be the same for her. The two of us struggling to answer the question, "Now What?" I comforted myself with the notion that "it would all make sense if "HE" and I were to be together". Ha, adding purpose to my madness. What was to follow was probably the some of the worst times of my life, admittedly. Life never ceases to remind me that somethings are beyond my control...and if you sit back (really, calm the hell down) things work themselves out.

It was Can't Have Him's birthday when I wrote that last post and I couldn't refrain from mentally abusing myself. No, I didn't spend an hour trying to pick the perfect e-card this year nor kid myself by calling him at 12am the day of trying to be the first one to say happy birthday. There is no way I could have done that and say it was platonic with a straight face. I sent him the worst e-card and a text message during business hours and I am sure I still couldn't conceal how much I care about him. It's been eight months since...(I swear, I have to stop writing these weepy posts) and for the gazillionth time, I can't get over him. I have found a way to cope but there are times...like when I think of his girl, and the way he refers to her as "my girl", how he may have gotten off of work early for whatever birthday surprise the little girl planned for him, and the few days of every month I find myself so sick wishing it was me... a little of me dies. I was miserable not talking to him so I must say I am glad we are "friends". I am so in love and like New Orleans, if no one pumps it out it will be like this forever. I still won't let anyone close to me. Looking over the year and what we went through and my self sacrifice, I feel like (an idiot, but that is neither here or there) in a year I have made no progress. I still tear up sometimes, I still pray that he thinks of me, I still can't find it in me to hate him. A friend said once "You can't let go of love, love has to let go of you". My battle to let go for the last 3-4 years is a testiment to the truth of that statement. I am exausted anyway. This week I realized that I may love him more and ultimately better than anyone else just as there may have been someone who could better handle this hurricane fiasco. But they weren't chosen, I wasn't chosen and our screams are like ripples in the Gulf of Mexico. Who know's, this may be the kick in the ass America needed to repair the run-down schools and levees, to bring forth economic development and for God sakes, and a Tiffany and Co. to New Orleans. Soon there may be a metephorical hurricane and Can't Have Him will come to his senses, or perhaps I will. I'd take it either way. But for the sake of my sanity, I must relax and relate. You can only do the best you can, right? I am just waiting for love to let go.
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7 comments:

  1. I need to relax, relate, and release... nice post but if you read my blog tonight about love, something completely different from the soulmate...I can actually say I relate to what you felt.

    I'll be back ...passing through

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  2. Anonymous12:38 AM

    yeah, love is a hurricane. Love is crap. I love the way you said you all are "friends" with the "". At least you are aware.

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  3. As your "new" blog boyfriend I must impart you with a little wisdom.

    Chinese Proverb: If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was. We do not possess anything in this world, least of all other people. We only imagine that we do.

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  4. Renee6:27 PM

    haha! You know NOLA needed a Tiffany's girl!

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  5. Secret Admirer2:57 PM

    Once agian a well wriitten piece. I feel you on the love thing but everyone is giving advice but you have to do what you feel is right. If that makes sense, since I am giving you advice. Be strong

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  6. this is totally unrelated but are you Nigerian? or your parents at least?

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  7. Hi Chi-chi thanks for stopping by my blog. Yes, both of my parents are Nigerian...so I claim it too. I really am going to blog about that one day. Maybe one day soon...I want to stop by your site but it won't let me.

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