I miss you, Michael

I just watched Janet on American Idol. She killed it! Not hair, catsuit, Christian Louboutin's, dancing; it was GREAT!!!

And it made me think about Michael...I miss you Michael Jackson! In processing this breakup I wonder... I took Michael's death really hard. I mean crying hard in my bed, followed by a mild depression. Michael and I were together for 32 years of my life. I have know him as long as I've known my family. He was everything I did all the time. Posters, stickers, pins, hats, gloves, jackets, tshirts, concerts; all Michael. I was in love with him and, it's safe to say, we grew apart. The surgeries, the charges; our relationship was a challenging one. Then he would come back...an album, a movie and I would be like Yes! He's still around. Crazy, but there he is.

His death was a blow to me. Part of me is embarassed because I know that having such deep fellings towards someone I never met. is wierd. But, that's how I feel.

Here's a thought:

My depression following the death of my "first love," hit me so hard that I sabotaged my current relationship.

But I never met him....I know, I know!!!

Give us...us Free!!!!

Okay, its has officially been one week since the big move on and I have done just that. I just want to say that when going through a breakup it is important to have a strong network of supportive friends to assist in the moving on process. I am indeed blessed to have said group of friends who are are giving me the support and love that I need to find myself again.

This past week has gone considerably well. Despite what I've googled, I am not crying or depressed. Okay, that's a lie, maybe a little. But only when he comes by to pick up the things that continue to clutter my progression. It's funny because I am moving along in my week; making progress as the days continue on and BAM! Here he comes with a text stating that he needs to grab this or pick up that. I prepare myself by taking a series of deep breaths, gathering myself for this reunion that doesn't even live up to the preparation.

He continues to act as if I've done something wrong! Hello? This was mutual. Remember? We BOTH agreed to this. This was for the best. Right??? Then he leaves after making passive aggressive remarks to the dog. "Hi Doggie, Whoa! You need a bath!" WTF? I just gave her a damn bath!!! But instead of me commenting and starting a fight, I remain silent and continue to take deep breaths. And then he leaves. The apartment is now filled with a heaviness that is overwhelming. The tears fall and mid-cry, I remember my beloved sage. Sage smudging does wonders for the psyche. I highly recommend burning something when you are low. The fire dances and the heat distracts you from the looming emotion. Then you blow it out and there's a fiery red ash, then smoke. The smoke travels from your hand throughout your apartment removing bad energy and calming the spirit. I travel through the apartment removing the grey cloud that he left behind and replace it with the sharp smell of sage. Woo! Then a glass of Pinot Grigio, just a glass, and I relax and try to remember why I am doing this in the first place.

I look around my apartment at the bare walls and the 6 year-old rug covered in a shredded chew toy and thank the Lord that I have made it this far. Far enough in my life to understand when enough is enough. I understand that I don't have to stay in a relationship that doesn't work for me. I still believe in love. As I sit daydreaming about love, the guilt sets in.

Guilt is a strange thing. In taking time to process this guilt, I think about why I feel guilty. When I think about the prospect of moving on, I am filled with guilt. I don't want to rub it in his face, Ahha look at me! I am able to move on! But, on the flip side, I want to. I want to rearrange my furniture and start off fresh. I want to reconnect with my old self. I miss her. Where you at ChicagoSlim? I know you're in there!!! Come Back!

She's coming back ya'll, one day at a time. I just need to focus on the progress that I have made and look forward to the future. Summer Break is right around the corner and my Ikea wish list makes things all worthwhile. In all honesty, I am truly enjoying my freedom. I can chill on the couch in my jammies and not worry about unapproving looks. I hate those, by the way. I can come and go as I please, while remembering to be careful, for my mom. I can reconnect with old friends that I isolated because I was in a relationship, that's a whole 'nother blog. I can listen to my music. But most importantly I can revel in my freedom. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do!

Hips and Thighs

Breaking up sucks! I'm not talking about newborn baby sucks. I'm talking about Hoover Super-Powered Vacuum sucks! I'm talking about triple time warp speed sucks! I'm talking about that ride at the amusement park that spins you around sucks! Ugh!

He just moved out. I mean there's still little nick knack paddy whacks here, but it's just the knowing that it's done that I’m dealing with right now. And the little pitter-patter hug didn't make shit better. I was expecting there to still be some feelings; a little movie love. You know, the man picks up the last box and turns to leave, but can’t because the woman (me) is so beautiful, and as he takes steps toward door, he throws down the box and they end in a passionate embrace. But, this is clearly in my imagination and I quickly learned that some people are better at hiding their feelings than others. I mean, I know I'm the queen of a shut-down, but damn....

My sister made me feel better. She asked me how I felt after he left and I said "Weird." She said, "that's how newborn chicks feel when they're first born. Remember," she said, "this is a rebirth, You have been here before, you just have less baggage chickadee." Wow! So now I just have to get ride of the two years of baggage that's resting on my hips and thighs! Because this shit is here and it's real. So as long as these thighs are flapping around...I guess I got some healing to do!

So now, Operation Clean Off Everything is in full effect, and then the Rebirth. As I'm cleaning the house I had time to think, cry, laugh, dance (please understand there was music involved), but most importantly had time to reflect. I'm pulling out plates and silverware, and the memories come flooding back; fun times, happy times, times when everything was all good. And while I am scrubbing counters, I'm thinking about him moving out, but also thinking about what it is about me that I need to send with him.

It's so easy to blame him; after all, he's a man, duh? And he was wrong! But, I can't sit here and say that he was all bad, after all I was with him for two years. I want to move out the fact that I often loose a sense of myself in relationships. The fabulous, fierce, funny, confident, sexy, outgoing, life of the party me seems to vanish the longer the relationship goes on. I find myslef so consumed in trying to keep him happy that I forget to be happy. I am so focused on “pleasing my man,” that I find myself resenting him because I’m fat, tired and feeling unappreciated. “Look! I stopped being me for you and you don’t even appreciate it! I gave up myself for you and this is how you repay me?” So along with the silverware, I packed up that little tidbit.

In that respect, I wish to move in the power to be more open to being myself. I get so caught up in what I think I’m supposed to do to make the relationship work that I turn into a four-headed monster beast that wrecks it because I am pretending to be someone I am not. I also want to move in being comfortable with myself. I have spoken to girlfriends in relationships who say that when they were single, they was so comfortable being single and right at the pinnacle, they met their man. As we talk I see them trailing off, dreaming about how secure they once were.

I know that feeling oh so well. I remember before I met “him.” I was working out, work was great, I loved my students, and I was enjoying my life. I’m not saying that I wasn’t enjoying my time with him, but because I was so secure with myself, I attracted him. I was open and available.

So now, in retrospect, I wonder if I had just waited a liii-ttle bit longer, would our relationship have lasted? Would I still be the secure woman that represented me in the beginning? Not the current shadow of myself. I mean really, who wants to date a freaking shadow. You can’t even hug a shadow! Try it! You really can’t!

As I move forward I will try everyday to get back to being me! The bad part is that it seems like the things that he wanted me to change about myself came so easy after we broke up. Now I want to paint the apartment. Now I want to go to the gym. Now I want to get organized. I mean knowing that he was leaving opened my eyes up to becoming more mature.

So off I go, on a brand new adventure. I am kind of excited to see what God has for me. This is what keeps me going, especially on the rough days. And I’d be lying if I said that there weren’t a few roughies thrown in there. But I know there’s a fabulous, fierce, funny, confident, sexy, outgoing, life of the party lurking inside. I just have to drop off some of these hips and thighs to find her!

Forrest Gump was right...

Life is like a box of chocolates. Who woulda thunk it? A movie about a mentally challenged, self-made millionaire is so telling.

Here I sit, at my computer, trying to hash out the thoughts that scramble through my already scrambled brain. I spend the entire day putting out the fires of 10-14 year olds just like an over peed upon fire hydrant. Minor complaints fill my day from "this teacher did this," to "I thought she was my friend." These issues keep my day moving and seem, at the time, as if I will never be able to solve them. But just like the day before and hopefully the days to come, I manage to save the day. And then I go home...

Home is a different story. Amidst a level 10 breakup, I am head over heels in resentment, anger, sadness, relief, depression, fear, you name it, it's here. Chain smoking cigarettes and wishing for a fountain of Pinot Grigio to drown in, I manage to throw my bag down and greet a resentful, angry, sad, relieved, depressed and scared man.

Me: Hi
Him: Hey
Me: How was your day? (Trying to sound as if "it's all good")
Him: okay

And that is the gist of the conversations for the rest of the night. What once was a caring, loving, concerned and accepting environment is now tense and uncomfortable. I wish it could be different. I wish my feelings weren't based on 2 years of feeling misunderstood, taken advantage of and any of the other cliched reasons as to why relationships don't work. I sit at my computer and google "getting over a break up," "relationship advice" and "help please I don't know what to do." Only to find that relationships aren't like anything else you need help in, you can't just google it and find a remedy. I can't really talk to friends because their advice is so riddled with "giiiiiiirrrrllll I don't know how you deal with that, I would've...." that I don't even bother. I just decided that I would sit at my computer and write. This will be an interesting read to someone out there. Someone going through a breakup who needs something to read to take their mind off of the ever looming present.

So, here I sit, at the computer....where do i start? My history of relationships is pretty eventful. None of them were successful, but they were pretty eventful. The one thing that they have in common is that they all left me feeling as if I had been taken advantage of. I use the term all, very accurately. Which leaves me to ponder if all of them left me feeling this way, maybe it's me. Is it me??? It can't be me, I'm ChicagoSlim Gotdammit! But what if it is...

So now I am left to ponder about the patterns of these relationships. I am a caring nurturer, which if coupled with the wrong person can manifest itself into something like what I have experienced a few too many times. A man that gets real comfortable, real quick. Which is cool in the beginning because, "Hey, I mean we are always together, so why don't you just stay here and we can split the bills and I love you and this is so freaking great and girl guess what he did for me and Yaay!" So at first it is bliss. I come home and there's food and freaking and fun. But after a while the food gets prepared less and the freaking falls off and the fun is forced. And let me add that forced fun is no fun at all. But, I love you and I would do anything for you and no you don't have to pay this month, I understand and oh, wait you don't have it this month either?? So that's how it starts. I allow this pattern to repeat itself until it becomes a habit. It gets to the point where I am not surprised if there's no money, because I've got it and I'm sooo-oo understanding and now I'm wrong for even asking and now I don't even ask for it because it's understood that I've got it. How depressing?

So now I'm the freaking Statue of Liberty?? "Give me your tired, your weary, your poor?" No Thank You!!!!! I will gladly put the torch down, unravel my robe and walk the earth naked if I meet another "man" that takes my kindness for weakness. I don't want to be a stone cold bitch, that's not me...but if I meet another one... I just might have to be.