Adrift

I was watching a movie today, and two people fell in love under impossible circumstances. They chose not to pursue their passion for each other in order to maintain the lives they had built. This movie came to me during an emotionally tumultuous time in my life, and those feelings awaken each time the film comes to that scene.
I can't articulate the whirlwind that comes over me, except to say that it is everything all at once.
Betrayal, lust, love, doubt, fear, anticipation, and all with a clear mind. I don't miss that feeling myself, but sometimes I miss that intensity.
I became so accustomed to my life being in upheaval that this stable happy life almost seems pale. There's no more track left on that roller coaster, and I almost miss that. It's taking time to adjust to not being in that situation. To no longer being the person who put themselves into those situations.
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I had a conversation with my father yesterday, that led to many reflections on who I have been, and who I have become. I am my father's daughter. All of those insecurities and antisocial quirks, the hiding and lamenting. Those are all of his habits, and now they are mine. I do think that I have improved upon his design, however, in that my selfishness allows me to do for myself with less guilt. It allowed me to separate myself from situations and relationships that were not beneficial for me or my son. However, it also bore my flight sense.
I walked away from my family about eight years ago. I left the father of my child and just went away from them. I kept contact with my father, and thus my siblings, and wrote off everyone else. I broke strong bonds, because it was easier to walk away than to explain that I had made a mistake in bearing a child for a man who was not worth it. I was disappointed in myself, and sure that they were disappointed in me. Now I have to try and fix those broken bonds that are still available for mending. I lost that chance with one of my favorite people. I have to stop running from the people who love me even when I walk away. I have to not be selfish and fear hearing about their thoughts on how I have lived my life. I have to give up my reluctance in order to gain the family I have had all along.

Reach me.

I'm pretty well isolated up on this mountain. I don't know how much I have delved into that before. I don't go anywhere, aside from our twice a month grocery shopping trips. For the most part I am happy with that as my life these days is pretty fulfilling, but when it does start to bother me, it's maddening.
It all changes this week, we're adding an ever other week game of Dungeons and Dragons with some of the boyfriend's co-workers to our schedule. This could either go very well, or very very poorly. I am such a mess when it comes to socializing with people. I never know what to say, and so can come off in any variety of unflattering ways. I'm hoping for the best, this could be a solution for all of those maddening moments where this house is my prison. I want to have friends, and this is a step in the right direction.
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In related news, I find that in addition to people not being able to comprehend that I don't yet know how to drive, people are equally astonished by my lack of a cellular networking device. When you live like I do, however, there really isn't a need for one. My land line is more than sufficient for telephoning, and my computer is pretty well within sight most of the day. That's good enough for me right now.
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Last week I shared a song from Bongwater that related to my feelings about time. This song relates to my feelings of isolation, both literal and figurative.

Time.

I have been thinking a lot about time the past few days. Not just the measuring, and the passing of, but what happens with and without it.
Time becomes the greatest tyrant in our lives, as observes the song at the end of this post.

Time has given me a way to measure the changes in my life, the decisions I have made, the people I have lost. Time in its eternal nagging reminds me of all the things I have let slide, selfishly, in trying to become the person I wish to be.
In running away from my family, my friends, I have forfeited time. It all came home to me this past weekend, when a family friend passed on. I don't know the details, because my self imposed alienation makes me feel as though I am unwelcome to inquire. Because I gave up that time. The time with him, the time with the people that help to connect me to him. Time is not only a measurement, but a commodity. How easily we squander it with no expectation of a return on the investment of it. Time is everything we fear. It is lost and never regained, nor can it be redeemed or earned. It is so maddeningly persistent, and unattainable. Time is madness.

Home

I grew up in the Southern part of Queens County, New York. One of the five boroughs, it has it's own unique charms. From the time I was a teenager, I wanted to move to the Rockaway Peninsula, which is as far South as you can go and still be in Queens. It used to be known for having he most undeveloped coastline for the entire East coast. I loved my day trips out there with my best friend, and when the time came that we decided to move out of our childhood homes, that is where we wanted to go.

(It is fitting that this post comes today, as Rockaway was known as the Irish Riviera.)

We moved in February, and it was fantastic. The ocean was a five minute stroll away, the bay was a two minute stroll away. The views... oh the views! Beautiful bridges and lights on the bay side, and just the bliss of ocean and sky on the other...

This post is trying to race out of my head today, and my thoughts are a mess. You see, living in that neighborhood, I discovered what truly brings me peace. Walking. I would walk everywhere. There was nothing like having the sun on your back, the smell and spray of the water, and my headphones pumping in whatever I felt like hearing. It was bliss. I miss it. I ache for the days where I walked along the shore, or even the days I walked along Metropolitan Avenue on my way to work. The sun is shining through the window of my new mountain home, and I miss the smells and sights of home.
The trouble, you see, is that I can't walk here like I did then. There's no boardwalk, or pavement to let me lose focus and let my feet run the show. The terrain is bumpy, and I can't keep a steady pace. I have to pay attention lest I end up in a ditch. Of all the things I could miss of my urban home, I miss the walking most.
I am disgustingly homesick.

New Start

I had a blog before, and posting would happen in spurts. It occurred to me today that the "voice" I used there wasn't natural enough to me. I was masking some part of my true self, and that is not the type of person I really am. I'm trying this again. I've broken out the handle I use everywhere else, the one that has been part of my life for almost thirteen years. That is who I am, and who I should have been over at that other blog.

So here I am. I'm the shy lurker at tons of blogs, and now when I leave comments I can leave them under a moniker that is me. (So me, in fact, that my father suggested I change my name to something similar to it. I know it seems strange, but it does make sense, I promise.)

The Cadavereye thing is strange to most people, it's kind of morbid, right? It comes from a song by Alice Cooper, and my father gave it to me as my first AOL screen-name when I was fourteen. Since then it's been with me, and followed me into MMO's, social networking, and even into real life. I will just as readily answer to Cada as I do to my real name.

I have adopted this name, and this blog. I am scrambled, I ramble, and my moniker comes from a song about necrophilia.
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I knit, cook, play games, have a kid, and will post about any and all of those things. I am just here to post, let off some steam. Hopefully I'll find myself and you'll come along.