water retention, dvd’sand sunshine up my skirt

I have an issue that I have yet to work through. I have more than one issue but today I will focus on one of the big five issue. This issue is like a cherry on top of a perfect milk shake. No more like the zit on your chain before a first date. Wait it is like starting your period before a week long beach vacation. Perfect. It is inconvenient, changes your plans, causes mood swings and water retention.

Why did this come to the for front of BCarol’s mind? I am a closeted performer. I am out of the closet for all intensives purposes but I can’t make a living at it so I consider myself in a closet. There is a role that I would like to play and I need to send the rudimentary headshot and resume. Easy enough off it went via-e-mail to the casting director. Then came the request for video of a performance.

I have dvd’s of myself dancing, sing and acting my way through productions. I can edit a minute or so of me doing the above. Easy right? Well, not so much. I was horrified. I watched myself and thought You suck! Your voice! Your movements! Dear Lord what were you thinking? I sunk low in my chair took a deep breath and grabbed a large handful of candy cane Hersey Kisses. Then I grabbed another handful of kisses and thought I wish I had made those sugar cookies.

What upsets me is less than an hour before that I going through the possibilities of graduate school in theater. Yes, I want to peruse an advanced degree in theater. Sadly, if I cannot watch myself why would I think that I could get into a grad program more or less be on stage.

Now that is the question. I have been cast over and over doing roles that were non-traditional, over the top and written for the opposite sex. Honestly, I have. I have been asked to be in shows without auditioning. I receive accolades but still manage to feel subpar, lackluster and horrendous.

I have two choices. Choice 1 the world is blowing sunshine up my skirt. Choice 2 I have issue with my self-esteem. After due thought and conversation with a friend who is also a therapist I have chosen number 2. Low-self esteem is a major short coming and I wear it like it is my job.

What to do? What to do? My friend the licensed social worker asked me something that rocked me back on my heels. “Where you sexually abused as a child” she said. The answer was an honest no. I can’t remember anything and I have volunteered with sexual assault and domestic violence programs for years. If I had I would think that something would have come to the surface and I would have faced it.

Why sexual assault? People who have been assaulted have many issues that I have. They tend to be control freaks, perfectionist, flashy dressers, sexually conservative, obsessive compulsive, overachievers and self deprecating. This list not exhaustive but it says a great deal about me. All are true.

After years of living I have learned that abuse comes in many ways and levels. I also know that abuse can affect everyone differently. For BCarol it was many cruel circumstances that caused this enigma called BCarol.

I am what was called a bright child. I was and still am empathic. I love the creative process of the arts and performance. I see the world on multiple levels at once. I see through my senses and can pull a moment into reality with the sound of a musical phrase, a shade of color or the flavor of a beloved drink. I consider myself ethereal. No, not angelic but ethereal.

My mother and father gave birth to this oddity. Yes, oddity. My parents are about as creative as a wall painted utilitarian gray. A wall that is serviceable, clean and reliable. This does not mean that my parents did not love me. I know that they did and still do. They just did not know who to feed my mind and sense of self.

My father did his best to prepare me for the world. I think he was trying to toughen me up and make me hard. Okay, that is fine and well. However something was lost in the translation. First let me share with you that I am not a pretty girl. Something a father should never share with his prepubescent daughter. I am also not the brightest I will need to work harder. Also, as a child my father told me I was fat and that no man will want me. I still struggle with my weight and sense of self value they are intertwined.

From my father’s viewpoint I understand this. It was honest and giving me the tools I needed to survive what the world would throw at me. My mother was another story. I call her the woman who cannot make a choice. If you asked my mother a questioned and expected an answer you would be sorely disappointed. Even when my mother attended college she couldn’t pick a major.

Mom wanted me to be a doctor or something important. I wanted to be a musician but that was a hobby not something you studied in college. Why don’t you become a lawyer? Why aren’t your grades better? How come you don’t… That is what I remember “how come you don’t (insert whatever).” Looking back I spent 18 years walking on egg shells and trying to make peace with what was around me. I became passive aggressive. I ate to find some kind of fulfillment. I stopped trying because what was the point. I enjoyed the wrong things. I liked the wrong people. I cried too much. I was not happy enough. You are not allowed to be angry. I am sure to this day that I breathed wrong.

18 years of programming and I cannot erase the damn hard drive. What is a girl to do? Be bitter? Hide and eat Ben and Jerry’s? Maybe? I could work on healing myself. I could learn to see myself as others see me instead of the disgusting entity that I perceive.

If rose colored glasses are a reality what color are the glasses I wear. Gray, black or even puce? Could they be scratched and flawed. Maybe they are glasses that cut out all that is bright and only shows that which is monotonous.

Maybe Jill Scott was right…

In reality, I'm gon' be who I be
And I don't feel no faults
For all the lies that you bought
You can try as you may
Break me down but I say
That it ain't up to you
Gone and do what you do

Now back to the video of my performance, one step at a time….

Cats, Christmas and The T

Christmas time again. It is an odd kind of Christmas to me. My therapist and I have gone round and around about decorations. The therapist (I will refer to him/her as The T) felt that I should pursue the decking of the halls. I was unsure; make that no way in hell! I have lost a great deal the last few years and to top all of it off one of cats become ill and died.

Take my home, loose my job but my cat? I miss her every day when I walk into my residence not to see her big round eyes and quiver tail. I know that too many, almost all of you she was just an animal or pet but to me she was unconditional love and understanding. No matter my living circumstance or income my kitty was the same. The same purrs. The same snuggles. The same coughing up of hairballs.

My other two cats have ran around the house crying in each room looking for her. How do you explain death to an animal? You can’t and that brings more tears for one who has left you.

I know that she is in heaven. Do not give me the argument about souls and animals. Heaven would not be heaven without the animals that I have had heal and love me. She is there and I am sure that for her there are many loving hands to pet and scratch her and that only the best treats are given seafood of course.

Then out of nowhere a good friend calls me and she was let go yesterday. I thought she was safe and had made it through the worst of it. Sadly, I was yet again wrong. I find that it takes the shine off of my holiday and leaves her in a vacuous of despair. Happy Holidays! She will awake New Year’s Day almost 60 in Detroit without a job. Where will she start and what will she do? She is still here and she will move on but the strength of faith, person and character will be tested in ways that I do not wish on anyone. What can one do when words fail and hugs are not enough? I pray and hope. I still hope. Only to ask why…

Now, back to the tree and the decking of the halls. I have another friend who is suffering through her own Christmas issues. I call her the recovering Catholic. She is on her spiritual quest. I think she may end with Buddhism? That is why it is a quest she may end up living on a mountain eating weeds and scattering wisdom. Then again may be not she does have a husband and I can’t see him eating weeds in a cave. Maybe if there was a large enough tv with a remote… no not so much.

Christmas to her is pain and suffering. Presents and demands. She also has had illness associate with the holiday. You would think that all this would push me to screw the holidays and eat pizza rolls and watch action movies. Oddly, it has had the opposite effect on me.

I will admit I miss the presents and snow men. It is the memories that haunt me. This haunting has positives and a barge full of negatives. I embrace the memories of it. I have made some choices. I am going to conveniently forget the barge of negativity. Yeah! With age comes easily accessible “forget it ness.” As my friend shared her feelings about Christmas I found myself sharing what it is that I like, enjoy and love about the holiday.

I like the music. It brings me comfort. The Vince Guaraldi Trio brings me a glow. Vince played the music for the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Each note brings me into the safety and peace of childhood. There was life before peer pressure, mortgage payments and long work days. Guaraldi give me that again my shoulders relax and I can smell pine and citrus. I see snow as a miracle and do not dread it but look forward to snow men and hot chocolate. I think of snow angles and my gloves drying on the radiator. I think of church service and pretty dresses.

I know that this is a time of year that I should take comfort in Christ’s birth but in all honesty it has little to do with him. This is a day chosen by the church to undermine Pagan winter solstice celebrations, Saturnalia and Sol Invictus. We will promote Christianity with a festival designed to carry the correct message to all the worlds’ heathen. One of the first major marketing campaigns that went out of control... That is why Target has the crazy ad with the blonde waiting for black Friday. Will she just shut the hell up!?!?!?!

Slowing down…. Yes, Christ does enter into my Christmas but in a BCarol kind of way. Let me start with Christmas lights. There is something about the glow of lights on the tree and greenery. No other light just the sparkle of the bulbs. It is soft, warm and welcoming. There is not a harsh edge. There is no anger or antagonistic intent.

The scents. Yes, the freshness of pine. The sweetness of cinnamon. The aroma of baking cookies. All warm, giving and natural smells. I also take pleasure in the rich sweet scent of mulling cider.

The sounds music. This is a biggie! The music the soaring notes in traditional carols. I listen to the weight and rhyme of the words. The middle ages come to life through the cantor. Listen to the “Wexford Carol”,” I Saw Three Ships” or “In the Bleak of Midwinter.” They are lovely and timeless. Then I can listen to gospel “The last Month of the Year” and then add some Ray Charles to it, a dash of Sinatra and a splash of Celtic Women and I reach an audible euphoria.

Now where is the Christ in this? I look at it this way. When I sit in a room looking at the beauty of the lights, listen to music, enjoy the warmth of my abode and am enjoy the flavors of the season all is good between God and I.

I sit wrapped in a throw and allow myself the gift of not forcing thought or forcing answers. I look with in and listen to what is being said. “Peace be still.” When was the last time I was still in a way that was pleasant, enjoyable or even kind? Not recently. Maybe just maybe God gave me this time to choose whether to be stressed out and strung out. Maybe this is a test as to did you learn anything or are you just going to suffer through another season?

Christmas comes in my heart in my way and I am good with that. To all who are broken, hurt or in need I offer you the blessings of this holiday. Nothing in a gift box but that you see peace of body, mind and soul. That you may see the positive and bring forth the joy that is within you and not fall into the prepackage propaganda of the season.

Okay T, I will put up the tree……