year of the delena

so we come to the close of the Year of Secrets with its Season of Temporary Insanity, Invasion of the unFunk, the writing of the Funky Love Letter of Closure, the Inner Demon Tea Party and Imminent Fatal Gorge-Fest, the Multiversal Jiggy Snake and Funktastic Yayness, Delena of the Funkywild, and my return to How It Used To Be.

depressed much? you have no idea.

i suppose this is where i express what it is i've learned this year about life, about myself and the world around me. i suppose this is where people expect to hear that i've finally come to learn that i don't need a man to define me, that i don't need to be part of a pair to be complete and that, in fact, i am complete unto myself and giving away any part of that is to give away my fundamental power as Woman. or even as Human.

and to that i say THHHHHHBBBBBT--

the very thought makes me wanna fart really loud.

what i've learned is that I Am As Am. i've learned i am as am, and to deny that is to deny what it is to be delena. i deny my Self. if conflict is to come into collision or opposition as of one idea, desire, or activity with another, and if in psychiatry conflict is a mental/emotional struggle arising from opposing demands or impulses, then i have learned why my life has been conflict ever since that saturday morning on the patio when my calves and the backs of my knees came into intimate contact with a baseball bat.

i've been trying to be what everyone wants me to be, whether it's my bio-parents, my culture, the modern womens' movement, modern psychology, my friends, and even myself. but i am who is, and who was made to be as she is.

the latter half of this Year of Secrets has helped me see this.

it's archaic, provincial, and downright primeval, perhaps. so be it. so fucking be it.

i was made to be One of Two. i am complete unto myself, a whole person, yes. but when i shine is when i am one of two: one half of a working pair. and like a siamese twin, i will die when my other half stops working to help us flourish. he can be his own person all he wants to. this is all right with me. but my life's blood comes from when he tends to our partnership. i was made to be a partner, equal yet supporting. it's shown up in other aspects of my life as well: the faithful lieutenant, the devoted acolyte and successor (until the Kali Summer destroyed all hope of that), the support network at the salon. i shine when i am working towards the good of the whole, the good of the family, the flourishing of the partnership.

as i told *m* earlier today, everything about me was made and geared to be One of Two: when i truly love someone, when i hold him inside my body is the only time i truly know peace and the only time i feel whole. it occurs to me that eve was made for just this purpose, and yet my patroness is lilith.

i am no milksop to say, "as you wish," and lie complacently on bottom, do as i am told and yield all independence and individuality over to the masculine. fuck no. there is equality where i dwell, an honor and reverence for our different-yet-syncratic powers. and no matter how i may shrink in on myself from despair and pain (for depression and i are old friends and fall into familiar patterns quite easily), i never quit fighting.

never.

lilith, the night mother, always reminds me of equality and retribution when she is denied her due. *m* had disrespected and disregarded my heart, body, and soul...the trinity of Self. so i told him as much, and then i ended it. and i didn't take him back when he asked.

but he did ask, and so i give him the chance everyone deserves when they ask for it. but i do not compromise my needs, and i do not put him first yet again. if he can earn back his place at my side, then i will be very happy to have him there. and i will happily admit that i will be better with him there, rather than incomplete like that lone sock in your drawer whose mate was devoured by the washing machine.

i also accepted that i am a denizen of despair and there are some depths i simply can't deny to myself. i tried for so long not to give in to my depression, trying to hold myself together by sheer force. my last blog post was myself finally allowing myself to plunge into those dark waters and swim as deep as i was able.

and yes, i burned again.

but as soon as i allowed myself to go that deep, then and only then was i able to begin the ascent into the light once more. trying to "be strong" and "not let him get to me" and "see i don't need a man to complete me" and all that other helpful-yet-not-understanding advice under which i was being buried...it was advice i knew was good, that i knew was "supposed" to be what was good for me. yet it was keeping me in this limbo of trying to force myself to rise above it when what i needed was to sink down into it. and if i touched the slimy, silty bottom of the black mere of despair, if i got the mud and algae of it under my fingernails and in my hair, then so be it.

--i learned i had to cut through the bonds of modern convention, thick and unforgiving as cold iron, and be as i had been made to be.

--if i am to rise above something, i must first sink into its very own cold, black depths.

--i am made to be One of Two. i define myself by my emotional ties and relationships, and i am nothing without them. the most important of these is the bond with my life partner, and i simply am not complete without his love.

--compasson is part of my calling, but equality and retribution are equally my calling and my power lies in the Darkness. my gods are not of light and healing and hearth, but of war, destruction, and the purpose of death to clear away what does not matter anymore.

--if nobody likes any part of this, they can suck it.


let the Year of Secrets be done. so fucking mote it be.

um, so...

inevitable--
i finally surrender.
love is not for me.

i know it's been a while since i've posted here. i really just, plain and simple, haven't cared enough to write anything. it's all negative, and i know the people who read this aren't gearing their lives for pain and sadness so i really haven't wanted to inundate my lovely readers with this crap. also, i've been thinking of nixing iGoddess and just returning to a plain, simple blog where i write about my life.

there is no Funk. pronoia was a vehicle i tried to operate to transport me to better and brighter places Within. well, it worked...until i tried to return to the real world where shit like that just doesn't work. i really am nothing but Something for other people to use, and i've finally just come to Accept it.

what's really sad is that i can't afford to break up with *m* because i can't pay for this apartment myself. his job doesn't start until the middle of next month (maybe), so i paid this month's rent and bills myself, and will pay next month's and most likely february's, too. it breaks me every month, but at least after he starts working, i'll be able to save half rent, so i have something to fall back on. right now, i have nothing.

ironically, my current encounter with anorexia is looking more and more financially reasonable. who can fucking eat when there's a.) no money, and b.) stress has me so flipping out that eating makes me sick? at least there's a benefit: my fat ass won't be so humiliating in another month or so. fuck.

boho mom made a request that i write a post just stating what's been going on lately. honestly, i don't have the endurance for that. let's just say that we can lump up everything that's been happening since just before he moved here, and add in intoxication every evening, plus refusal to eat (except sparingly), plus a complete and total return to where i was a year ago. i haven't burned, but i don't know if that's a good thing or not. the only thing that keeps me from burning is knowing that, whether or not i need to, i'd be so completely disappointed in myself that it would send me spiraling into such a dark place i'd be months coming out again.

he doesn't fit me. he doesn't fit me, and it's such a phenominal and astounding misfit that sometimes i'm too overwhelmed by the degree to really contemplate it for very long. i love to get to know myself, to think and learn and ask uncomfortable and challenging questions because i want To Know. his answer for all my questions is always the same: "i don't know." fights actually begin because i want to Know, and his "i don't know" is as much a placation as it is an avoidance, and i just can't respect someone who refuses to understand not only himself but the world around him.

he hasn't touched me, or instigated any intimacy since the middle of october. and when he did, i was simply a hole for him to jack off into. any concept, conversation, or exploration into the concept of Delena's Pleasure is met with offense, discomfort, and hostility. i'm sorry, but delena is Venus in Platforms, and i've been the embodiment of several men's fantasies. i'm Good. i let a person be free with his sexuality while reveling in my own. to be with someone who refuses to even consider the possibility of my sexuality is...anathema.

not to mention completely humiliating.

i had to invoke one of the first tenets of Witch-- personal responsibility-- before he'd even acknowledge the possibility of contributing to our problems. he told me that he doesn't feel he's done anything to warrant our current strife...meaning it's all me. all my fault. so, yeah, i just woke up one day and decided to revert to alcoholism again, to be depressed, to be swallowed in self-hatred and disgust, and feel unwanted and insignificant just for the pure fuck of it. yeah, i just woke up and felt like it for no reason.

i had to pull the religion card before he'd even consider the possibility of his part in this. and sure, for the last few days, he's been somewhat affectionate. he still hasn't answered a single question i've posed to him. all his answers are the same: "i don't know." i refuse to believe he's that obtuse, that he's that stupid and unaware. then again, if he really doesn't ever think about these things, he's really not the most spectacular fit for me, either.

even if he loves me in his own undemonstrative, diminutizing (is that a word???), taciturn, completely hidden and unspoken way. i have to demand a hug. i have to guilt him into showing me physical affection, and i still haven't been viewed as the sexual goddess i am.

and yet, when i asked him how he'd feel if i asked if i could see other people, he said that would suck. "why?" i said. "you have no physical claim on me, and you have only a whisper of an emotional one on me. why would it suck?"

it actually sparked another fight because he got so pissed i actually wanted an answer other than "i don't know."

and yet, i know myself. i'll put up with this until i wake up one day and realize i'm completely dead inside and all i can think of is a nice cup of foxglove tea. if i do kill myself, it'll be with foxglove. i just know it in my heart it'll be a painful, slow-acting poison. it's how i've lived my whole live, slowly dying by emotional poison. it'll be a fitting way to go, and i know it and accept it. i'm just so damn, fucking sick of hearing professions of love from men who only end up either abusing me, subjugating me, or shunning and neglecting me. i'm so damn sick of it.

and i want love so fucking badly it's actually pathetic and disgusting. i want a husband and children, happily living life, so that i can know in my soul that what i grew up with actually had meaning. otherwise i'm just a piece of extraneous shit that no one really has use for.

and, actually, i could Accept that truth, too, if i didn't want to be loved, just loved, so fucking badly. and it's pathetic, and i know it. fucking lovely.

delena haiku

realization --
spiritual suicide...
it's the only way.

going to the dogs

every day needs to be like yesterday at work. when i got there, i had only three dogs on my books. one of which was a lhasa apso named "yeti." and omg, when he got there, i saw a nose...and hair.

the abominable lhasa.

but one of the girls had to leave early, so i inherited a lot of her appointments. one of mine cancelled last-minute, but thank the gods because i was still grooming up until forty minutes before close.

the last dog i had was a dark apricot standard poodle named robie, but i swear, with that topknot as poofy as it was? when he came in, i grinned and said, "hey, buckwheat!" his owner laughed.

i made twenty dollars in tips yesterday. yes, that sounds kinda good, but customers haven't been tipping at all lately. even a couple dollars is actually being remarked upon in the salon now. hell, i made more in tips when i was strictly bathing dogs. but i averaged twenty dollars an hour yesterday, and that's not too bad. it needs to be more, though. i need more dogs, bigger dogs, bigger packages.

and yes, when i say things like that, i'm thinking strictly of my paycheck.

when i think of the dogs, though, i don't care if i have only three dogs on my books. i love them all.

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): The phrase "new roses" can serve as an antidote to neurosis in the coming days -- as a kind of magical spell. Invoke it whenever you're in danger of getting undermined by either your own neurosis or someone else's. If you notice, for instance, that your subconscious mind is spiraling down into a sour fantasy stirred up by one of your habitual fears, start muttering a cheerful round of "new roses, new roses, new roses." If your allies engage in compulsive behavior that they tend to get stuck in when stress overflows, chant "new roses, new roses, new roses" in a blithe, sing-song tone.


...new roses.

new roses, new roses, new roses. new roses.

new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses.

new roses.

new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses. new roses.

new roses.

so when does this actually begin to work?

diary of a mad iGoddess

y'know, it's absolutely no secret that iGoddess has somehow lost its luster and delena has lost her Funk a long time ago. some of you, beauty and truth fans, are absolutely disgusted with me. greggo was particularly adamant and revolting in his expression of how he sees me now. but that's all right.

i've known. it's not like it's been any great secret to me.

but, y'know, something i wasn't aware of was what i was waiting for. turkey dinner the sunday before the actual Thanksgiving Day was held at my parents' house, and it was apparent to my father that something was wrong in the first five minutes of my entrance. probably less than that. and on that tuesday night, after i'd had my shower after work and was curled up on my customary chair in their living room, he asked me point-blank how things were with *m*. we had a very long talk, well past the witching hour.

it wasn't until i was lying in bed after that discussion that i realized i'd been waiting to talk to my parents about this whole thing before i actually made any decisions or took any action. i honestly didn't know if i was blowing this whole thing out of proportion, if i was being overly paranoid and hyper-sensitive due to my other shitty relationships, or what. but his final verdict --"give him the bum's rush, dear,"-- crystallized quite a few things for me.

it made me realize that no, i wasn't blowing this out of proportion. my thoughts of breaking up with him and kicking him back to idaho weren't unjustified or extreme. yes, this was damaging the hell out of me. no, i wasn't being unreasonable.

on the other hand, it also clarified a few other things for me.

no, i wasn't quite ready to give up just yet. love --and committment-- doesn't hightail it out of something at the first sign things are getting bad. and yes, believe it or not, there was still a sliver of love there.

somewhere.

so i asked my father for patience. i wanted to try one more time. after that, if nothing came of it, i would break it and be done.

this week at my parents', separated from *m*, did me a world of good. it gave me nothing but time to look at just how deeply depressed i was. i also got a chance to really think about my anger, and sort out which anger belonged at his feet, and which was directed at myself. and, frankly, how much anger was still being spent on big *c*, my bio-dad, and last summer.

quite a bit, actually.

there was one morning, before my week critter-sitting, that i was so bleak driving to work one morning i could only think of how to get out of it. and i looked at my arm, at my scars, and it crossed my mind there was one surefire way to get rid of this stupid, dragging bleakness. yes, i actually thought of burning. i haven't burned since january.

but i didn't burn.

i'm very proud of that.

so, aside from a few occasions --none of which ended well-- i really didn't talk to *m* all week. i wasn't even going to come home after the parents' had returned from hawaii. i was actually planning on couch-surfing until i heard one --just one-- "i miss you, i love you" or "please come home," from *m*. and if i didn't?

if i didn't hear anything like that from him before impatience and insulted, hurt temper overruled me, i was going to return home and kick him out of my entire beloved state of oregon.

so no, i don't believe he's the last man standing. i don't measure my worth against his treatment of me. there's nothing wrong with me. i'm just not stupid enough to do something so Final without much thought, much time and patience, and making absolutely, posi-fucking-tively sure there's No Other Way.

so mote it be, godsdammit.

...as if nothing had happened.

so i was at the parents' for a week critter-sitting two cardigan welsh corgies and five cats out in the boondocks of east northeast portland. pretty much as far east as you can get and not be in the Gorge. so yes, there was snow already. =)

but mom had no internet because of some really lame auto-debit debacle with AOL (Assholes OnLine, hehe)

and yes, this meant i went into some pretty serious withdrawals. but i'm such a dork i was actually stressing out most because i couldn't balance my checkbook.

how the frick did i get so old so fast? every third day or so i match my checkbook with what the bank has online for the most up-t0-date info i can possibly receive, and i actually get a kick out of being perfect to the penny. egads, i'm frickin' old.

but yeah, so that's where i was. in the boondocks, with a bunch of animals driving me crazy, a puppy with no brains, an older puppy driving me crazy with that stupid i-wanna-go-outside bell she keeps ringing just as i fall asleep, and a 27-pound cat who wanted nothing more than to tapdance on my head.

yes. laugh.

anyway, so i'm sitting here, home for the first time in a week. i had actually composed several lovely delena haiku while i was gone, but i can only remember one of them. so...

*ahem*

i am just fine here.
there is no stress here at all.
just two welsh corgies.

thank you.