Awakening to My Self Sabotage

 I'm just going to jump right in because its too much to sort through for me to start at the beginning. As things unfold, all of the relevant threads will weave themselves together in the way they do. The beginning of a basket is just as important a part of the shape as the last bit, and will always be part of the whole. I expect it will loop around introducing the head to the tail repeatedly, as it does in my mind, while this thing evolves.... 

I have habits of the mind. Before I/we got involved with this other woman, I was able to stay blind to my self serving mental loops. Protection spells that that were conjured through trauma, to keep my heart distant and my ego safe. This is the part of me that keeps me smaller than I am and risk adverse to a debilitating degree. It keeps me just a little bit ready to flee as soon as I feel a threat to my control center. It keeps the fight or flight suitcase packed in the corner and makes sure that no one can trick me again into thinking I have a safe place to unpack it.  

Another aspect of this system, is a continual scanning of the horizon for potential threats, that can be going on without my conscious mind knowing it, and exhausts the resources of my emotional center. It makes me critical of my lovers. It shows me scarcity, while shielding my heart's eye from seeing the abundance in my life. I have to fight a part of my own mind, as I navigate through the spiked tongue of a jealous critic, to get to the love I crave. On days that I am weak, I simply don't feel love, and to escape this pain I unintentionally cause pain in others. I am ashamed of this injustice and beat myself up for insulting their gracious hearts. 

It's a cycle where I am hurt by everyone around me, and stubbornly refuse to believe or recognize their attempts to engage with me in a loving way. I find myself obsessed with the perceived pain, and end up mired in an emotional glitch that sews my heart's eye shut. I guess this is a tactic that my frightened self uses, to keep me from feeling safe, so that we cannot be tricked into believing that I am. Unfortunately, as I engage in this fear blind search for what could potentially hurt me, I weave the first harmful threads of the very future I am terrified of.  

These threats that it scans for are primarily focused on my husband. He is the closest to me and the one who holds the biggest cords to my desired future, so I am especially rigid in my observation of his words and actions. He unintentionally says dumb things, that send my spider scanner into absolute turmoil, and sets off a cascade of thoughts and reactions that we all suffer the consequence of. 

....three days later...

I wasn't looking for a change, but I've changed with the circumstances. The instinctive jealous reaction has been powerful and difficult for me to overcome as quickly as I would like to. It's been quite a few months of serious discussions, holding tight, giving up and coming back together again. It's been an up and down cycle coinciding with my period, that affects me both mentally and physically. I am so thankful that my partners are both loving and patient. They understand that this is going to be a complex path for me to navigate and they hold space for my tantrums, deep pain, and complete mental reversals. 

I never expected a woman to find me and love me this way. Its equally surprising that she would awaken a desire in me, that is becoming so powerful, that it has extend into my marriage with Quill. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever consider sharing my deepest love with another person. Yet, here we are, all falling in love and committing to ever deeper connections with each other. It feels natural and powerful, despite my desperate clinging to what I know vs what I cannot control. 

Crazy Russian Daze - Pics

 

2020 UPDate

So. Its been a minute. I live in many places...somewhere and nowhere. Spent the last 3 years making money and living in my car, at my friends house and in WA state with my husband and child. I drove thousands of miles between jobs in LA and NYC in a car I bought from my father in law.  It is long enough to sleep in, has great MPG, and it came with a mechanic. 

Its been a learning curve. A fear curve...I watched a LOT of youtubes about the van life. I did finally get a van after 5 years of planning on getting one. I am cautious. slow. deliberate. 

I just moved my stuff (has been in storage) to WA state. Into this house, that is owned by one of the mothers. Its only been a few months. Covid is happening. I've been here since March. The child we had is now 13. As a person, they are strong, independent, non-binary, and wearing 90's goth and a LOT of black eyeliner. They are currently living in a town 100 miles from here, with baby mama #1 (Justina, who owns the house) and the little sister JOJO. Its a bigger town, a better school system with opportunities for a better future. Justina has a ton of money and spends it on the girls. She is intelligent and successful. Cold as ice, but why would she be otherwise with me? 

I find myself here with my husband after 10+ years of being apart and we are just as in love as we ever were. More. Better. Adult. I only got a few month with all 3 of us together. My whole family in one house. 

He has had 3 children with 3 women. Ours is not living with us...and I am here tonight drinking tequila while he navigates the 2 boys he has taken on. One is his. They are loud and violent, but also sweet and scared. I remain neutral. I have to. The mother makes reason impossible and created a wall of jealous rage that I am not inclined to climb over. She is young and angry. She has breast cancer too. Its impossibly convoluted and terrifying. 

I have no desire to fix his life. I live mine...around his. I come and go. I love him He loves me. That's all we need this time around. I have my own child to pay attention to...when I get to be with them. 

Moving on

Well, its been a year. The couture sewing classes have been another big stepping stone in my life. My skills are improving and I love making clothes that fit perfectly and are of quality materials. My instructor, Ella, has proven to be a good friend as well. She and Valeria have even crossed paths and we now put on fashion shows together. Valeria makes jewelry, and the girls from the club are our best models. Still dance at there every once in a while, but only for special events.
Living in PA has been good and my daughter is 5 yrs old now. She will start kindergarten in the fall. That has me thinking about our future and where we are going to settle in for that. I am not thrilled with the idea of living here for years and years. Time will change things.

Sirens in Silk

New Year Shifting

Hey hey! So much is happening. I planted seeds and they are all starting to sprout. This seems to happen every year around my birthday. Feb 17...means spring is on the way. Change. Perseverance furthers.
Dancing at the Russian changed my life. I knew it would. There are those markers that identify the opening of a new chapter and this nutty job was surely one of them. I learned that I am an outgoing person and that I affect people. What a nice awakening, to that bit of me that I misunderstood. I felt that I was a shy, meek woman incorrectly packaged in a shiny wrapping. I am starting to see that its alright to go ahead and shine on out from the inside. Good times...thanks for that!
Saturday night was one of the dancer's birthday and it was a big night, despite the blizzard! We had a full house with a lot of unusual characters. So we all camped it up and really put on a big show. Lots of skits and silly acting out. I hula hooped and skinned my knees being a bitchy leopard who could not be controlled by her trainers whip. Then I dressed as the captain and made poor Svetlana scrub the brass poles and the deck of the ship, not to mention, the tip of my sword. Ridiculous and funny and I could hear the crowd laughing and shouting for us. It was non stop and the feathers were flying. Its so much more fun when people pay attention and are entertained.
So entertained, in fact, that I was invited to join a burlesque troupe that is putting on shows in the Baltimore area!? That is so flattering and kind of exciting to think about. I do love bawdy humor and I am at my best on stage it showing off. There is also the potential in that group to pick up some custom design costume jobs.
I have started the couture sewing course and I love it. So inspiring and fun to see it unfold. We are working on simple patterns and making them fabulous. I can already see how this is going to open up whole new worlds for me, design wise. It takes some of the fear out of cutting the fabric. I am getting some Confidence in my toolbox along with the other great stuff.
The real big news...for me anyway....is that I am moving on out of the grandparents house and into my own. Marina Belle and I will be going to PA for the next life experience. This flips me out and gives me a joy in my heart at the same time. We are going to live in a little house on a hill. We share the space with a nice older man and his little dog, Scully. He is a Buddhist, opera buff, special ed teacher, divorced father of three, with a girlfriend. Perfect. Oh, importantly, it is cheap enough for me to handle with just a little help from my (ex)husband.
Speaking of which...he will be here on Tuesday for Marina's third birthday. I am not sure how that is going to feel or what will come of it. For now...I am glad that she gets her birthday wish to see her daddy. He has been suffering with out her. I know this. They need to see each other.
love to all.

Young people

Every time I go dance I say to myself...I am too old for this. My eyes are tired and the cracking, shiny make up makes it worse. So much make up! The Russians love make up. I hate the make up. My body, however, is not too old for it. She loves it! I have to let her dance....it does make us feel good.
A boy named Chris asked me, "Are you into young people at all?" Do I slap him or kiss him?! What a thing to say! He says he will come next weekend to see me again. He watched with an intensity that only the young boys have...they get lost. He is cute...but I don't think I am into young people.
We got two new girls. It is good. They are into burlesque and that is really good. I had fun dressing my new partner and she was full of enthusiasm. The other girl...amazingly...is signed up for the same couture sewing class that I am?! There are only three students and she and I are two of them, both working as dancers in the same club. She describes herself as a seamstress with no design capability...I am the opposite. Its perfect. Maybe I am building a life? There seem to be connections happening.
The other thing going on is this theater costuming job. I am alternately excited and suspicious of the whole thing. It would be great if it is real and I really am going to be paid to do this. I cant tell if it is some girl with big ideas and no real backing...or if she can actually pull it off and pay me eight grand. I do want to dig into the script and make amazing stuff. I want to work hard on something and see what I can do. I have not really tried anything like this before. I played it so safe that I disappeared into nothing.
It fits that I am working as a performer and taking a sewing course. Things coming together again...adding up to something. A life building.
Honestly, every morning I get up and walk out of this room that I am in and I feel the air. I see the rugs on the floor, the smell of this house...and its all surreal. Every day I am confused about why I am here. I forget in my sleep, that my life has changed so much, and I am forced back into this reality each morning. Its brutal...and I just try not to let it crumble my mind. The structure of reality is so fragile and it wont stick. I cant let it into my mind. I just cannot believe that THIS is my life now. Here. NOT there? Not with him? My daughter and I just drifting out here? I have no weight to hold us down. I cant find a homebase.
It allows a certain freedom and there is some joy in that. I have a secret life, in the open. Because I am with no one I know or who knows me...this family of mine has no idea. The elders don't want to know...and my mother, can only be my mother. She and I are trapped in our way of being and fear of change. Who knows anyone? Who does? No one really knows anyone. Ever. Its so lonely...and we are all there together.

I do love dancing. Its a wonderful feeling to let the music flow in to a body that responds with out hesitation. I tell a story and look out from another layer of myself. I never thought I would dance on a stage or have the sass to pull it off with confidence. I shoot out sparks sometimes...its so fun to project your energy and watch people wake up to it.
There is a new girl at the club. She is Lebanese and has a big love for cabaret and looks like Liza herself. So, we dress up in showgirl outfits and use canes and chairs...campy stuff. She is taking classes for pole dance and has some really elegant spins. I watch and pick up what I can. She is curvy and short and a little self conscious about her body. I love her for pushing through that and making herself do this. Last night she tells me, "This song feels so good to dance naked to!". That's my kind of girl...I have the same experience.
Dressing up is the the big thing at our particular hole in the wall and I love it! We often dance in pairs and we like to match the outfits to the song. Tell little stories or create a particular mood.

We get a lot of regulars...guys who come in for our company and the cheap beer. They ask questions and offer advice. We do the same...as it is a very low key environment and offers the opportunity for this. We dont do lap dances and there is no champagne room. Strictly tips from dancing and we dont pick money up off the floor. We engage with each person in the room after each round.
Its a peculiar place. Not your average strip joint, from what I hear anyway.
So, we are friends with these fellows. I worry about "him" if he doesnt show up for a couple weeks. Sometimes they bring us food and every once in a while, a present. They are our fans and I enjoy dancing for them as much as they like to watch. Its symbiotic and natural and very adult.

I haven't been going in to dance. Its been more important to work on my business and get something done for the holidays. I make about the same amount of money and its more productive in the long run.
My husband finally sent some money...about half what he said he would. He sent along a note saying, "I LOVE YOU", in large letters. Its confusing for me. I get a sting and a spark in my heart simultaneously. I dont want to know that he loves me still. That he misses us. What is the point of all this, if that is the case? Why are we three thousand miles apart? What is going on? Maybe he just wants to keep me hanging on...the comfort of my love to fill in the cracks. I find it comfortable to love him too...I have for so long. I find it difficult not to.
I asked him not to communicate with me in that manner. I told him to express his feelings for our daughter...but to leave me out of it. I dont want to feel anything. I want to ignore it until its not there anymore. I let him know this. He cried. He says he understands...he wont anymore. It makes my heart ache and of course I want his love...but not when its like that. From such a distance...and at the expense of the woman he lives with now. I dont want to be his new false crush...his affair. I know too much. He has a phantom heart that tricks and manipulates. I only want the real love that we had....the one I recognize and feel safe with.

I start a couture sewing class in March. Its expensive. I am not sure why I am pursuing such a specialized skill in this economy! Made to order couture? Am I nuts? Maybe....but this is what came to me and I dont turn down the gifts of the universe. Thats my role as artist. Just keep saying yes to what rings my soul bells...thats how you make the art. It comes through us if we let it. I cant question that....what would be left of me? That is what I am. So I sent the money. Four grand! To a Russian woman....another Russian?! Ella...she is going to give me the tools I need to bring my visions to life. The finished edges that are required for the next step.
Luxery lingerie? Tango dresses? This is what I am thinking about. Dance, hand dyed silk, fashion. Should be fun.

The minimum

I am angry. Its good to be aware of it, I guess. Cannot express myself just the same. It comes out in some twisted attempt at being 'helpful'. Inside, I am full of irritation and contempt and outside there is a false sweetness and feigned confusion. I suggest that You should do it like THIS....when I am really saying...STOP DOING IT LIKE THAT! That sucks and I wish I was more aware and less fake. Some assholes came into the club. It happens...and usually its not a big deal...just more assholes. Sometimes I am susceptible to it and I can get cut down to a level of depression that is so dark and oppressive that it takes days to recover. Two guys are driving back up to New York and stop off for gas and decide to come in to our little dive club and critique us. Thanks fellas. Didn't tip a dollar. What kind of an asshole comes into a strip club and doesn't know to tip even a lousy buck? They proceed to look me over and ask, "where is your ass? where are the tits? Why should I tip you?" Because I am here and this is a titty bar where I dance for money. I am sweating and happy and simply came over to say hello. I am a hostess and I hope you are having a good time here with us...its a simple courtesy. Please be a gentleman. Then they tell me about the $ 80,000 car they drive. They tell me that how they decide to spend money is up to them, not me. That they could start pulling out twenties and fifties...shit...hundreds! if they chose to. They tell me that because I had only expected a dollar, and for that they have no respect...."You dont get nuthing", they say. Huh? I didn't even ask...I came over to welcome them and say hello. I had hoped that they would understand the unspoken expectation. Then one of the Russian girls comes over, furious and breathless, and throws money on the table and says, "Here is some money to tip the woman...pick it up and give it to her!" She knows that I am going to get crushed. She knows me...and has already read these guys correctly. I am trying to be real and connect with them and I should not be. I really should have given up then...I should have walked away. I should have honored my soul and bid them farewell and ignored the insult....but you see....I wanted that money. I got tricked by the desperation in me. I failed to recognize it in time. I was a bad night...and I am so poor. I lost honor in clinging to the hope that they might like me enough to give me on of those twenties. I feel disgusting when that happens. I hate being manipulated by money. Needing it so badly that I put myself to shame. I hate money. I forget that part of the job. I just want to dance and wear sparkles and pretend that I am not in a second rate titty bar in the suburbs of Baltimore. I dont want to see the sad drunk faces of old men through the eyes of a cynic. I want to love humanity....and bring a light and a smile and a little tingle of sex. Let me keep my spark. Please dont rob me anymore. I dont want to hate men. I lost my heart. My arms fell to the side. The lights got dim and the girls looked stupid. I felt old and lost and pathetic. I am so stuck and scared and sad. When does the father of my child have to stand around and beg for money in his underwear just to feed her. When will women get the help they need, when the men just walk away? Who is pathetic? Fucking assholes.