Going Home

They say you can’t go home again. I understand it’s a metaphor regarding the changes that people go through as life goes on and on for the one who leaves and those who don't. So, everything will be different when the prodigal child returns.

My old home in Sacramento

For me, that saying became literal as well. In 1976, I moved to Los Angeles from Sacramento, California for college. During my freshman year, my stepfather accepted a job in St. Louis, Missouri. So, my home in California disappeared into nothingness leaving Los Angeles as my new home. I used to tell people I didn't leave home, it left me. Missouri would never be home as I had no real connection to it and they lived there barely nine months anyway before moving once again. And, in reality, Sacramento wasn’t truly home as we’d only lived there about a year and a half before I left and two years before they did. Yet, my grandparents had lived there for as long as I can recall and remained there until they passed. So, Sacramento always was a home base of some kind.

My mother has lived in the Atlanta area since 1979. I recently went to visit and discovered another aspect of going home even if it’s just home to visit mom wherever she may reside. I’ve changed even more since my previous visit over a year ago. Last year, I’d toyed with the idea of telling her I was beginning to study the tarot and with my first baby steps in telling her, she replied “I thought they were supposed to be evil.” I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t.

This year I was still unsure about sharing that aspect of my new life. So, I chose to play it by ear. For several reasons, I ended up not opening that closet door. I tried explaining about being an empath by sharing a couple of my empathic moments. I tried explaining some of my intuitive experiences. I’m not sure she grasped any of it, but I’m grateful she listened even if she didn’t know what to say. No one usually does. I’m used to it, so I go it mostly alone, with a few friends who do understand. Kind of.

I did bring up the fact I see the same numbers over and over. I pointed out once that it was 1:11 on the clock and that I’d noticed 11:11 earlier that morning. She said she didn’t believe in that stuff. I took that as not a good sign.

I know this aspect of my life is hard to understand for those who are more secular or religious than spiritual. After all, those nasty tarot cards are frowned upon by churches and those who read them are children of the devil. We've been brainwashed not to pay attention to our intuition as it's seen by some as an evil spirit, mental illness or unreal. Other people get freaked out by it.

Mom and I had some moments of conservative vs. liberal politics but when we realized we would not see eye to eye we steered clear of them. Religion sort of reared its head and we ended up dropping that topic as well and we did the same with environmental issues. 

The view from my mother's back deck

All in all, it was similar to previous visits but for some reason my anxiety was through the roof. Maybe it was because I’m still getting used to these newer dimensions of me and I wasn’t sure of how to proceed in sharing with her, or if I even should. Maybe it was the idea of not being in my own home, my comfort zone. Perhaps it was just being around another person for 24 hours a day after living alone for so many years, regardless of who it was.

Or maybe it was just being in the conservative, oppressive south.

Maybe it was the realization that this was the first time in my life I knew she couldn’t be there for me as I needed her to be. Even as she tried.

Maybe it was all of the above.

I don’t wish to paint my mother as a difficult person. She isn’t. She is very loving and has been there as much for me as she has for my brothers and their issues. She was the only family member who initially stood by my side when I came out as gay. She has her upbringing which has led her down a conservative path and she recognizes we all have our differences which she respects.

As I reflect on what I learned about myself on this trip, I have come to this conclusion; it’s still difficult to ask for what I want or need in relationships. It wasn’t until almost the very end of my stay when I asked for some quiet time on my own. Yes, I could have gone up to "my room” and lie down or something. And, yes, I could have borrowed her car and gone into Atlanta for a day out on my own. But, it’s also hard to ask for that when you’ve made your annual trek across the country to visit and help your aging mother while recognizing she wants to maximize the time we have together. Based on her needs, obligations and other family engagements in the area, we arranged our chores around them, which then also limited my ability to go explore Atlanta. Plus, the two hour drive into the city was also a huge factor. 

So, all in all, it was a nice visit, even if it had its ups and downs. Hopefully, next time I’ll be a bit more grounded.  

Home, my comfort zone

The Five of Wands

I find myself living the 5 of Wands at the moment. While I am still living the Chariot moment I’ve described before, and I’m rebuilding from the crashing Tower moments, I am now embroiled in a 5 of Wands dilemma.

As we look at the card we see five young men all swinging large wooden staffs or clubs. This seems to be an unstructured battle, no direction from any leader. This has become a free-for-all. Five men all wildly swinging these large wands hitting each other. It’s no wonder this card has come to suggest chaos, confusion, struggle and/or conflict particularly over a course of action, as the suit of Wands represents our passions in life, our courses of action, our joie-de-vivre. 

I’ve recently had some homeowner issues. I found a trail of water coming from my water heater. So, after a quick but subdued panic, I searched for plumbers on Yelp, and requested a quote. Within 10 minutes I had a response to my request but the plumber would not quote me anything over the phone, or internet, until he could come out to see what he was getting into. I thought this was a wise move for both of us. Why would he want to lock himself into a project that might cost him more than he initially quoted based on a photo and therefore lose money, or have to readjust his quote, and charge me more than what we agreed on and possibly lose a repeat customer? Undoubtedly, I will have other plumbing needs in the future.

Due to how long the water heater had been leaking, it had evidently weakened the platform the water heater was on, and seeped into the wall of my house so that simply replacing the water heater would be problematic due to the weakened platform and would prevent me from addressing the possible mold issue in the wall surrounding the heater. To make this long story short, I am now the proud owner of a tankless water heating system.

Now, I just need to find some money to pay it off.

Here’s where the 5 of Wands comes in.

I retired earlier than I could have. Had I waited another four years, I’d be in a much better and more stable financial position, but I might be in a less stable emotional state of being. Hmmm, money or sanity? For me, the choice was easy. And I always was open to the idea of having to supplement my pension. But that was then, this is now.

I’ve been retired now just over a year and a half. I’ve taken some time to decompress and get used to the idea of being retired. But now, I need to augment my pension. But, I am an introvert and somewhat empathic and therefore I avoid crowds. I’ve also learned to treasure my independence and solitude. Oh, and my freedom to come and go as I wish. Or to stay home. Or to read. Or to write. Or to play games on my iPad all day. Or to sleep. I think you get the picture. And yes, I do need to get out to learn to manage my empathic introversion. Or is it introverted empathicness? Whatever…

Yes, I could use some extra cash. I could play the lottery. In fact, I do. But, nothing much has come from it. Last week, I won $10.00. Whoopee.

How do I maintain my sense of independence and freedom while working?

I think you see the 5 of Wands in my life now; the conflict and confusion over my situation. What do I do? What action do I take?

Do I search for a job where I don’t deal with many people? Is there such a job? Do I trust that I will be provided for and what does that mean exactly? Does that mean I will find the right job? Or other source of income? Or some giant cosmic ATM? Okay, that last one was a stretch.

I need to invoke the Hanged Man here. He is about surrendering and letting go. 

But, what do I let go? I just don’t want to end up being a martyr for my own cause.

Maybe I should let all of it go, and let it be.

And let the Star guide me...

My Favorite version of the Star
From the Aquarian Tarot, by David Palladini

Introversion

I recently posted on Facebook about having a typical introvert day. A few friends ‘liked’ my post with two even giving me a sad face reaction. Knowing them, I’m sure it was more because they felt bad I had a bad experience rather than being sad because I’m an introvert. In reality, the day was just exhausting, neither good nor bad, just exhausting.

Here is my post:

• You know you’re becoming more and more introverted when socializing with people you choose to socialize with in an activity you choose to participate in is still so damn exhausting all you want to do is get home and sleep for days. #introvertproblems

One of the above friends very lovingly expressed his concern that I might be going through depression. I assured him I wasn’t, thanked him for his concern and then began wondering what exactly is the difference?

According to multiple sources, the difference is huge. As in Grand Canyon huge. Introversion is considered more of a trait, a part of one’s personality; while depression is a condition that can be treated, often with medication and/or therapy. Few people consult therapists to overcome their introversion; but introversion is often discovered while in therapy for other reasons.

Depression worries about the past while it’s twin, anxiety, worries about the future. But, introversion is about the now, sort of. But not in a worry kind of way. Depression can weigh on you, while introversion is part of you.

However, severe cases of introversion can lead to depression.

As I look back at my post, I see another key difference. Twice. The word, ‘choose’. I chose to socialize with that group of people. I chose to participate in that  activity. I made the choice full well knowing it might have this effect on me. Many people suffering from severe depression don’t make that choice; they might choose to avoid social situations altogether. An introvert usually does want to step out more, while someone with depression usually doesn’t. And when we do step out, it drains our energy so much, we need time to ourselves to recharge.

Disclaimer: not all people with introversion, depression, or anxiety react the same way. I am writing with large generalizations in mind. I know many introverts who prefer texting over phone calls to avoid the chit-chat. I am the opposite. With my good friends, I want to hear their voice; I want to hear the nuances of the tone in their voice not have to judge it in a text, often incorrectly. I want to know they will make and take the time to spend with me, instead of relegating a reply to a text when they can make time for it, often hours or days later. I’ve written so much about texting vs. calling, so I won’t go there again.

As I sit here drafting this post, I am aware that I have two back-to-back social events beginning this afternoon into the evening. The mere thought of them is already exhausting me.

And then to come home to a roommate, who can be somewhat needy, is enough to push me over the edge, already, and it’s still morning as I write this.

My therapist struggled with a diagnosis for me. This was shortly after my divorce, and yes, I was depressed. But, I went about my regular routine. I got up, got myself ready for work, did what was required of me, then carried out the rest of my day. I did it all again, the next day. And the next. So, I was functioning. Many people with heavier forms of depression often struggle just to get out of bed. They can struggle in their daily life. They may turn to substances. In the end, she decided on an adjustment disorder as I was having difficulty adjusting to this new stage in my life, but was managing to carry on, as best I could. But, we also did discover I have some mild form of social anxiety particularly as it relates to the gay community.

There is no cure for introversion. We simply learn to live with it. 

So, please never tell an introvert, to “Get over it!”

We can’t. Nor, do we have to.

P.S. I did make it through both social events but was exhausted by the end of the evening, only to come home to the roommate and all her drama. Oy, what a post that would be.

An Introvert's Nightmare

I pushed my boundaries this past week.

I pushed them quite far and almost paid the price.

I know I should get out and socialize more, especially now that I am retired. Maybe 'should' is too strong of a word. 'Could' might fit better, less obligatory, more opportunistic. 

Plus, I know I need to socialize more in order to..., um, to..., um, well, I just need to in order to manage my introversion. And avoid depression. And loneliness.

I’ve tried finding various social groups to join but was turned off by their admittance questionnaires. I found an LGBT social group and checked them out. The very second question on their required questionnaire was "Single or Taken?" If this is a social group, what difference does that make? I decided not to join or offer some smart ass remark, like 'none of your fucking business', or just 'unavailable' but that would invite far too many questions I wasn't prepared to answer. I believe I blogged about it a while back so I won’t rehash that here as I still think it’s ridiculous.

So, I waited until another one came along and checked them out. They had no such question. Yet, shortly after joining this newly formed group, I received a group email from the organizer saying he was elated at the level of interest in this group and asked for an indication of exactly how involved each of us intended to be as there were many people on the waiting list and some of us might be dropped to make room for those on the list. WTF? If this is a social group, why is membership limited to a certain number? I guess he didn’t want it to be too unwieldy. But, I can only be as involved as my schedule, budget and interest in the proposed activities allow. What more can I say?

Why not simply allow people to be who they are?

A third group caught my eye; a group of gay men meeting once a week for dinner at a cafe about ten miles from my house. Due to scheduling and other, ahem, conflicts, it took me about three weeks to finally go, but I did. There were about seven of us that night in a broad age range, mid-30s to mid-60s. I really didn’t get much of a chance to talk with three of the men, and the two I spoke with the most were both teachers with my district! Oh, the irony, being I just retired and here I am talking shop! Another man acted as organizer and made the introductions, as the actual organizer was absent that night due to a prior commitment. 

As I sat there engaged in an introvert’s nightmare of idle chit chat, small talk and prattle with total strangers, I could feel the anxiety creeping up. But, I told myself to breathe, (if only in my mind-the telling, not the breathing) as this was actually healthy for me and I continued talking in while eating my dinner. 

In all reality, I did prepare myself for this experience. I mean, I knew I would probably be the new guy and I expected that dreaded question, "So, what’s your story?" I mentally rehearsed a synopsis, "Retired teacher, living in North Hills, no pets, just plants." And the evening was only going to last two hours. I could do this.

In the end, it wasn’t all that painful, but the inevitable did happen. One very nice man invited me to join him and his partner in all the groups they belong to, in order to meet other people. I'd heard of some of the groups and had quite mixed reviews of them. Regardless, none of the groups were ones I'd be comfortable attending. 

Once the evening was over, I headed out to my car and back home to my sanctuary.

Due to the location of the cafe, I had wanted to tag an errand on to the beginning of the evening but that didn’t pan out, as I discovered the shop I wanted to go to closed earlier than I had anticipated. So, I put that off for the next day and treated myself to my favorite lunch from another restaurant in the area. While there, I noticed an attractive man having lunch with a friend. I saw no visible indication of gayness, so I drew the conclusion he was straight. I tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation but it was apparent they knew each other and some of their family or other associates. 

But, I began thinking. After my sojourn into the community the night before, if the handsome man, or someone else had asked me out on a date, how would I feel? Yes, I will admit, I am projecting. But, it is a potential bridge I need to keep in mind, because it is a potential reality. Maybe.

Well, it wasn’t pleasant. It was excruciating. The nightmare of last night just exploded into a dream full of terror today. Instead of idle chit chat, small talk and prattle in a group setting with strangers, it was now idle chit chat, small talk and prattle in a one-on-one face-to-face singular situation! Being that this was all an admitted projection, taking place all in my mind, I used it as kind of a self-check in.

It’s quite clear, I am not ready for dating. 

The hyperventilating and near-vomiting once I was back in my car was additional proof.

Yet, through it all, I survived.

Empathically Introverted

I am soooooo going to get mail on this one!

I grew up watching the original show, Star Trek, and was interested in giving Star Trek: The Next Generation a try when it first came on. After one particular episode early on in the series, I was done. Finished, no more Star Trek for me. (Until Deep Space Nine and Voyager came on and I gave them a try for a while) I loved how, in the original, Captain Kirk had to trust his instincts to make decisions. In this particular Next Generation episode, Captain Picard, a fine Captain in his own right, cheated in making his decisions. Well, in my opinion, he cheated. He had help Kirk did not have. Picard's help was in the form of an empath, Counselor Deanna Troi, who could 'read' or 'sense' other people's emotions. In other words, she told Capt. Picard whom to trust and whom not to. Give me a break.

I have been thinking about Deanna a lot lately. But, why?

Because I have begun to suspect lately I'm more of an empath. Empathy is defined as 1) the identification and understanding of another's situation and feelings; 2) the action of being sensitive to another person's experience and feelings and 3) understanding and entering into another person's feelings. Whenever my dog's kneecaps slipped out of their socket and he limped around the room yelping in pain, I would go into shock and nearly faint until it worked itself back in again. I nearly passed out when the vet removed the sutures from my cat's operation knowing how she felt to have the sutures slide though her like that yet never having had abdominal surgery, nor sutures.

I haven't wanted to start dating for a number of reasons previously stated: lack of money, lack of time, lack of energy, lack of desire, fears of rejection, fears of intimacy, fears of repeating past mistakes, I could go on yet again, but I won't.

Yet, something new has come up in my dating avoidance scheme.

I seem to be more caught up in others' emotions and what I might or might not do that might hurt them. I see emotional issues from their side rather than mine and then think how my actions will affect them; e.g., in addition to the lack of time/energy/money, if I'm not looking to settle down, should I even be available for dating? Is it fair to give someone a false idea or hope? The idea physically pains me.

Yet, some would say its presumptive of me to think he would find me suitable enough for marriage after the first sip of coffee. Maybe conceited, even. There is a chance, I'm not what he's looking for. Plus, I haven't dated in over twenty-five years, I can't possibly expect to have a perfect first date, the first time out.So, I'm bound to make mistakes the first few times out.

And still others would ask me why is it such a big deal? You both might like each other, or not. If you both do, great; take it one day at a time! If you both don't, move on. If he does, but you don't, he's a big boy and can take care of himself. Stop taking care of him and take care of yourself. And if he doesn't but you do, then start taking care of yourself, and move on.

But, am I taking care of myself by not dating at all? One could argue I am. Another could argue I'm hiding out.

And, if I'm still trying to figure myself out, is it fair to drag him through it? A friend I confided all this to suggested he might want to take that trip with me. What if the Universe has conspired for me to learn something from him?

I will just have to learn to live with my empathic sensitivities...but, how? I guess I'll just have to stay in the moment.

In addition to thinking I'm more of an empath, or at least highly sensitive, I'm beginning to suspect my self-imposed isolation has turned me into an introvert, or at least I'm becoming more aware that I could be one and always have been. In the Huffington Post article, 23 Signs You're Secretly an Introvert, I solidly identified with eleven of the twenty-three signs, a bit less with the others and the only one I could not identify with at all said introverts tend to have low blood pressure, I don't. Among the ones I most strongly identified with:

• small talk is cumbersome;
  • yes, stimulate my mind!
• parties are to catch up with friends, not meet new ones;
  • more names to remember and what you do and who you're with
  • gods, more small talk
• I tire easily when overstimulated, especially in social settings;
  • see parties, above
• I can feel alone in a crowd;
  • see parties, above
• I don't get energized from my surroundings;
  • too much external energy saps my own
• I can be "intense";
  • I'm just trying to remember what you said to me

and lastly,

• I'm a writer.
  • it's easier to express emotion through writing than verbally
    
    • it's also an Aquarian thing

All this will make it hard to meet someone, especially at the beginning with all the cumbersome, but necessary small talk; and then meeting his friends, and his family, etc. My palms are already sweaty.

So, am I an empathic introvert or an introverted empath? Does it matter which comes first?

But, knowing this also gives me something to work on as I venture out of the safety of my shell.

To read the Huffington Post article, click here.