I seem to be marking my life, and therefore this blog about my life, by the thought processes, the moral struggles and the awful unhappiness I live with during the eternity between Monday and Saturday.
Every week Sunday comes, without fail. Every week the truth of my life stares me in the face. This Sunday I am as confused and torn as last.
This Sunday is worse than last. The dread, the disappointment, the heaviness have escalated. This week I rocked the boat and for that I will pay dearly.
Sunday is here.
I wish so desperately that I wasn't.
It is Sunday morning and I must decide how to dress this empty shell.
Do I dress it in a "happy face" and a pretty dress to join my family at church and then for lunch?
Or not?
There are less consequences to suffer with the first, but does that really matter any more? Does one degree of suffering differ that much from the next degree?
Whether I stay or go the inevitable is going to happen.
The "I'm so sad you've changed". "I wish you would be who you were before you destroyed our lives" look, on his face and in his eyes, will be followed by a long period of silence. Not minutes of silence, but hours.
When it is really bad and I climb into my bed of numbness, then it becomes days of silence.
I'm not surprised by his silence, it's always been this way.
I'm not surprised by my silence. My "voice" is not acceptable.
I'm am weary.
Weary of the silence and the control that have now been joined by his escalating unhappiness with me and disapproval of me.
Couple that with my "I don't really give a shit" attitude and it is almost funny that I'm sitting here pretending to be making choices about church.
Whether to go or to stay.
It's not about church. It's about my life, about this marriage.
Every Sunday I must face the fact that things are not getting better. He is not going to budge and is determined that I stay "in my place". Every Sunday I must choose to stay and fight for the right to live my life as I choose or to walk away.
Every Sunday that I stay in this marriage is locked into a Monday of consequences locked into a week of misery that will only lead to another Sunday.
"The Sound of Silence" simon & garfunkel
http://youtu.be/11FeId69WOk
"Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left it's seed while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence.
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out it's warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sing said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper'd in the sounds of silence."
If you want a little humor, something to make you smile and shake your head, try reading peoples interpretation of this song. I read everything from political upheaval, the atomic bomb and JFK to deep spiritual meaning and some really stoned guru opinions.
I've lived my life in a world of darkness. Always hiding. Always afraid.
Afraid that someone would find out the truth about the "real" me. Or that the things said about me might be truth.
I've always been alone.
Even in a crowed room of strangers or surrounded by friends.
Always hiding.
Always silent.
I was silent about what I thought.
I was silent about who I am.
I was silent about what I want.
I was silent about hypocrisy I saw.
I was silent about my dreams
and my desires.
I was silent so as not to be labeled evil by some and worthless by others.
I was filled with secrets. I am filled with secrets.
There was a time when I was filled with opinions, passions and convictions.
But when I "spoke my mind" or "did my thing" I was looked at with suspicion. I did not fit, my opinions did not fit.
One by one the things I just knew I was right about were proven to be incorrect until I convinced myself that "I" was wrong. My opinion does not count, it is flawed. I am not educated enough, morally grounded enough, decent enough. I lack goodness and integrity.
Really? Is this truth?
Silence does have a sound. It has a voice. A voice that screams.
The sound is so constant and deafening that I can no longer distinguish the voices of truth and life from the voices of evil and death.
I live in a dark world to hide my truth, my perceived evil.
I live in a silent world because I have no one to share my truth with.
"In restless dreams I walk alone down narrow streets of cobblestone."
My neon light? That split the night (the darkness) and touched my sound of silence? Truth.
Truth that no longer wanted to hide. Truth that I wanted things that were prohibited. Truth that I wanted to do things and go places that were forbidden. Truth that these things are not evil. That I am not evil.
Truth that I just don't fit in the box that is my life. I do not fit in the world that I have called home since the day I said, "I do".
I do not fit with this man or the God he serves.
And from there things got really bad.
How dare I question! How dare I choose outside the box! How dare I consider that the box is not my home anymore.
I've been screaming in the silence for a long, long time.
I want to walk out of the darkness, out of the silence, out of the box.
Can anyone help me find a way?
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