Dear Anita,

You are right, something needs to be done right here.  In fact, after I posted above about my sister’s question – I thought it would be a good idea to actually practice in the present – what my voice is.  Whatever comes to mind.  Thinking I have been doing this all along – but it was prior to the fact of the information we have now.

Living in 2-D, surviving, but not living.  2-D is devoid of that softness, of that heart.  That is why it often feels exhuasting, robotic, without an off switch, and never able to “sigh relief.” As it is 2-D.  Stuck in someone else’s story, just a page in a book – stuck.  Stuck for sure.

2 ways to do it, past or present.  I am having trouble with the past, or even mustering up any memory of the Disney world story at this moment.  Thus, I will start with the present if that is okay.  I will just type what comes….

Around the time of your reply, the long monumental one – I got a text from, yes you guessed it: S.  It said “hey how was your weekend?”

What did I feel? Annoyed.  I felt this feeling of annoyance of not wanting to take any attention away from the hard work I am doing with Anita today. Then I thought, where is this ROAR coming from? 1) slight annoyance at her as she is always available to chat about nonsense, and the only friend of mine that seems to have time like this, leading me to feel guilty for not replying 2) annoyance at myself for taking even a moment away from what is important from me 3) not replying but wondering if it is rude -but knowing it is not – she is focused on her world, so why can’t I be focused on mine?

So the point of this is, what is my voice saying?

My voice is saying this Anita: I am sick and tired of being close to people.  I was so “close” as in enmeshed, entrenched, enveloped in my mother’s story that  I want to be free.  Free of any burden to any people.  This  is why I find myself getting irritated so easily but others.  Yes, it is multifactorial – but at this very moment, this is key.  I do not want to have any responsibility to anyone but my own self.  And I don’t truly – I don’t have children.  But, living in my mother’s story, I must act in a way in which I am not those “ungrateful selfish people who don’t tend to others, only to my own self – selfish and ungrateful, forgetting where they came from and who was there for them.”

This isn’t about friends.  I have friends that I don’t have to keep up with.  A friend in LA with 3 kids and a full time job, keeping her head above water.  When we chat its great, and no pressure in between.  That is it.  Mature – no pressure.

I am maturing now, and don’t need any pressure.  My voice is that I am changed.  I am no longer the identity people once thought of.  S messages me so much, because old CC was always available to chat on any topic.  Well S may still be, CC is not.  In fact she never had that mental energy before to begin with – she just forced herself.

Perhaps seeing that text reminded me of how much I have forced myself to multi task and put my true needs second.  Never knowing my voice.

You are right, that picture of mine, it isn’t soft and carefree.  It is hard and stern.  Of course.  I would say before, it was after a long day of work with patients.  But it is more than that.  The ROAR is stuck inside, and especially when that voice has no space to develop – when CC is attending to others – the ROAR gets louder.  This is why I had such a difficult summer, attending to other peoples weddings, London trip, stupid cousin and her boy troubles.

I didn’t speak with my voice did I? Yes, I spoke a lot, a ton, too much in many cases (like with the cousin) but whose voice was it? Not mine. It was from the page stuck in the book. Speaking narratives from an old story.

My voice is saying  this.

Every day I dream of being in a place that is far from here.  Where it is just me, my husband, and my dog.  I don’t know where yet, but I know it will be a place where we don’t know many.  Moving geographically doesn’t change anything.  As even being here, I don’t interact with too many people like before.  But there are more pressures.  There are more events.  There is family (his family).  And I look forward to less of all that. I truly do.  Feels good to admit it.

I dream of a day, a Sunday, where we can choose whatever we want to do – and wait – the following Sunday as well – and the following.  Imagine, a whole month in which we can do this.  How freeing.

I dream of a time in which my husband has this room to breathe so to speak, and I can continue mine (as I have already started obtaining some of this room while here).

My voice says: no more.

No I am not interested in doing anything more.

I chuckle at the idea of sitting on the couch, maybe a window open and saying to my husband – what do you want to do today? and we feel no pressure at all…