I got something to say, you know, but nothing comes... ~Tori Amos
Melancholy. That is how I am feeling. It is overpowering right now. I am moments away of running headlong into serious depression. I am trying to find my voice. I am trying to keep my feelings of hopelessness at bay.
I want to talk about something that happened on Saturday night. No...I DON'T want to talk about what happened on Saturday night but, if I don't talk about it, maybe it will repeat...and repeat...and I will feel the same insecurities I felt in high school and then I may as well check out. So should I talk about it? Will it help? I always look to my wonderful Jan board for help but even I am getting tired of listening to my miserable ramblings.
I feel like crying. If I was not sitting at my desk at work I probably would be. I would like to go to my car and bawl but, if I do that, I will disturb Mama and she is the one who set off my mood in the first place. So let me digress (my way of avoiding the real pain for the moment)...and tell you first about Mama.
I pulled into a parking spot at work this morning. The spot straddled a tiny little grassy island in the middle of the lot. There is one tree on the little island but the leaves have not started to bloom yet. I don't even think they have started to bud...but maybe I just did not notice if they did...
Anyhow...there was a Canadian Goose on this little island. She was just sitting there...and did not move. Yes, I thought this was strange. They are not the most people-friendly of creatures and I expected her to hiss at me and be on her way. She DID hiss at me, mind you, but stayed where she was. Now...I am an animal lover...I do not mind hissing and goose poop all over the place. It is their world, too.
Anyhow...I apologized to her for crossing her path, told her to have a good day, and went inside. Yes, I really did this. I am such a freak.
By lunchtime I had forgotten all about her but, when I went to get in my car, she was still there. Now I am concerned...thinking she is hurt. But she looks fine. As I get closer, I notice them. Three perfectly formed white eggs under her body. I looked at her and said, "You dumbass! There are so many shaded areas around here! Why pick an island in the middle of a busy parking lot under a tree with no shade!?" But maybe she arrived last night? Maybe she waited too long and had to rest at the very first spot she saw? I don't know how these things work but I do see that she is panting and frightened and tired from standing over her eggs in this un-seasonal 85 degree weather. I drove to Wendy's and bought her some fries. Maybe not the best choice but what the hell do I know? I came back and waited until they were cold before I tossed them to her. She just looked at me like I was crazy. I found a plastic bowl and put some water next to her. She hissed and spit at me but I did not care. I am a Mom, too...
But I am heartbroken about her. She is out there...standing over her young all day...she is not eating or drinking. I pray that the heat is not too much for her babies...and it is supposed to rain tomorrow. I am being irrational, I know, but my heart is breaking about her situation. If you pray, maybe say a prayer for her and her babies...
Okay...I will stop avoiding the real issue now. Yes, I am upset about Mama (what I now call the Goose) but I doubt I would be this upset unless something else was triggering the kind of desolation I am feeling.
My friend, Debbie, came up from Virginia on Thursday. We had a great time hanging out. I love her. We went to a concert on Saturday night. Folk concert. We had backstage passes although I have never needed passes to get backstage. I just always did. Anyhow, after the show we headed backstage. I have known one of the singers in this group for a long time...almost half my life...since I was 18. Back then there was a mutual attraction but he was 51 and, again, I was 18. I was attracted to his sensitivity and his social consciousness. He was attracted to me, I would guess, because I was 18. I wanted to be his friend...he wanted to be my lover. It never did happen because I was too scared. I even went to his apartment once...but I had to leave...I just could not do it. We did not talk much after that.
I continued to attend concerts for the next 3-4 years but eventually stopped in my early twenties. I had a hard time separating the man from the music so it was just too weird for me to keep going. Too painful, if I am to be perfectly honest. Painful because, at the time, I wanted to believe that he cared for me. But he didn't and, when the promise of a physical connection died, so did our "relationship."
But then John Denver died and there was no one else I wanted to see in concert. Joan Baez rarely came around. I stopped seeing James Taylor live after I fell asleep at one of his shows in 1991. So, in 1997, John Denver died and Debbie said we had to find another act to see because that was, initially, the glue that held our friendship together...we saw concerts together. That is no longer the case, mind you...we are soulmates now...concerts or no concerts.
Anyhow...so I started going back to his shows in the late nineties. From time to time I would go backstage (NOT for me...but for Debbie). I was the one who was always able to get us backstage. And while he always made a fuss made over me, I could see the insincerity in his eyes. This was especially the case when I was pregnant. He hugged me tightly and I told him he was squishing the baby. He asked, "Oh, you are pregnant?" Yes, I was VERY overweight but I cannot believe he thought I was THAT overweight! I was going to stop going to his shows again but then my son was born. And something beautiful happened with the birth of my son...I realized that all the bullshit that I thought was so important and meaningful, wasn't. It was just that - bullshit. All that mattered was my family. It just so happened, though, that with a newborn, I did not have time for shows, anyhow.
This past January, Debbie asked if I was ready to go see the shows again. I knew I was so, when the opportunity came to see this singer perform, not with his group, but with his daughter, Debbie came up and we attended the show (it was held at a church very close to my house). Before the show started, he saw me and, naturally, gushed over how I look (it was the first time I saw him post-op). It was the first time ever that I felt as though I was able to talk to him as an adult. When I was younger, I was so shy in front of him I never said anything...and I could not even look him in the eye (he always looked at me with such an intense sensuality I could not handle it). But, in January, I had the confidence to look him in the eye and converse with him as an adult. Before I left the church, he hugged me and kissed me 5 times on the cheek...then 3 times on the lips. I was not offended at the time...many people kiss me on the lips. No big deal.
So...fast forward to Saturday night...we went backstage (a friend of mine, Mary Lou, gave us passes - in all the years I have been going backstage, this was my first time with a pass!). I wanted a picture with one of the bandmates because I had not had one with him since I lost the weight. I also knew I would say hi to "him". Well, I got my pic with the bandmate and then I sat on the couch so my pal, Mary Lou, could chat with "him". He came in, said hi to someone and then saw me on the couch. He made a beeline for me...shrieking my name and pulling me into a hug. But I had a short skirt on and my knees were tucked under me on the couch (I was freezing and had covered my entire body with my long sweater). He pulled me up on my knees so sharply into a hug that my sweater fell to the floor and my skirt was practically up my hoo ha at this point. He noticed it and put his hand on my knee...all the while telling me how beautiful I was. He let go and then said, "Oh...is your friend here?" (meaning Debbie). He saw her and went to hug her (he never kisses anyone else). During that time, I had scrambled into a standing position... He immediately came back to me and pulled my face into his hands...he kissed me once, twice....EIGHT times on the cheek and then kissed my mouth about 6 times. But, then...he shoved his tongue in my mouth! COME THE F*** ON! I am a married woman (which he knows) and I NEVER wanted that from him, anyhow. ESPECIALLY now that he is 68! He finally let go of me because he had other fans to talk to. I was shell shocked. I looked at Debbie and she asked, "Does he think we are all blind?" I stated the obvious when I said to her, "He put his tongue in my mouth." She said, "I know!" So now I am feeling like I am in high school again (big secret reveal here...I had an issue with my choir director in my senior year and I felt exactly as degraded as I felt then). I was about to leave when he stormed on me again. I had my sweater on this time so he pulled me in close and put his hand under my sweater on my ass (my sweater is long). Again, I felt like I was going to vomit. But didn't HE feel my heart pounding...my body tense up? Do men just IGNORE these signs? Mary Lou (the girl who gave us the passes) worships him and she did NOT see what went on. So she said, "Let me get a picture of the three of you" (meaning me, Debbie and him). I said, "That's okay...just get him and Debbie." I tried to back away but he already pulled me to him. The picture that resulted looks natural...it does not show that my teeth were really clenched. But it DOES show that his hand crept towards my breast. If I was any narrower, I believe he would have cupped me totally...in front of God and the world.
And I have to say...I left there feeling violated. I felt like the 17-year-old girl who was forced to do things to her choir director and then felt like she had no voice to scream about it. Maybe I'm overreacting? I don't know...but right now I am mourning for Mama Goose...sweltering in the heat trying to keep her babies safe. And I am mourning the loss of security that took me half my life to build back. I just wanna go home and sleep for about a year. Thank you, as always, for listening.!