Saturday, March 5, 2011

I'm A Hot Mess, Folks

I really don't know if I'm going to get through this day.
I am so exhausted, still, after eight hours of not-so-great sleep. My house is, well, let's put it this way- there's no place I can rest my eye for tranquility. I haven't eaten a decent meal in days. And my heart is tattered.
AND, I have to be back at the Opera House at noon at the latest, do a performance at one, clean up the theater and set the tables for tonight's dinner and I doubt I'll even come home today at all. I'll leave here at eleven-fifteen and be lucky to get home by midnight.

And we do this for fun. For love. And we DO. But goodness- this is almost too much like work.

I did it last night. I had the actor's nightmare- I found myself onstage knowing I had a line and completely and utterly at a loss for it. Pat, bless her heart, mouthed the word "towels" to me and I picked it up and went on but for a few heart-stopping seconds, I had no idea where we were or what I was supposed to say.
It was nauseating. I mean, literally, for me.
Well, it happens.
And the audience just didn't have a thing to give us and we all felt like we were not quite there, not really inhabiting, mostly just doing, which is not the way to be.
I think everyone is exhausted.

But here's what my real problem is- family stuff.
Oh, not MY family. Not my husband or my children or my grandchild.
It's stuff to do with my brother and my mother and I have GOT to learn not to open e-mails from my brother. It's like a sickness that I have even to think of opening them. A weird, family, dysfunctional sickness.

I got one this morning, and the subject line was "free press." My brother is a news junkie and he prides himself on watching the news on TV and keeping up with what's going on and his e-mail said this:

Give your readers the whole context of all all correspondence the last few days without any of your ideas on such...No more FOX..more MSMBC

That's a direct cut and paste.
Oh, my brother.

Oh, my brother. It makes me so heart-sick, this anger he has towards me and it goes back, back, back to when we were children and how we were raised and how he has dealt with it all versus how I've dealt with it all and I don't and never will claim that I do it right and I realize that honestly, his anger isn't at me, no matter what he thinks, and so, in the service of his relationship with our mother I try to let him send it to me and then let it slide off of me but you know what- I'm not that enlightened. I can't help but take it personally. I can't help but let it make me cry. I can't help but let it mess with my mind and it's like poking an old wound with a sharp, nasty stick, stirring up the pain, the blood, the puss. It's not healthy. It's not good. And it's making me crazy.

I've got to stop letting it. It's my fault that I'm letting it. I know it is.
And what I've got to remember is how loving my own children are to each other. How they treat each other which is with the greatest respect and care and any one of them would throw themselves under a bus for the other or for Owen too, and how we love to get together and do things and how many hugs and kisses and laughs there are when we do and jokes and well- THAT is my reality.

But you know- that other stuff- that hateful, accusing, taunting stuff still gets to me. The lessons we learn as children are profound and ever-lasting and babies, I learned some bad, bad stuff. I have, over the years and with the help of one of the finest therapists a person could ever have, and the love of a good and faithful man and with the eye-opening and heart-opening help of many other things, learned that I don't have to believe what I learned, that it wasn't true then, it isn't true now, but still...

And so here I am, this morning, writing it out, hoping that some air on it will let me let it go. Because if I don't, it makes me unable to be here fully and with whole-heart in this life of mine with these babies of mine, onstage and off. It's like the recurrence of a chronic illness that knocks me off my feet and sends me spinning and dizzy with fever and aches and muzzy-headed and so tired. Mostly that- so very, very tired.

Well.
We shall see.
I must eat and I must get ready to go and be Truvy for two final times. And then we'll pack it up, tear it down, have our cast party. Mr. Moon is leaving today to take Jessie and Vergil, who just arrived in Tallahassee, out to Dog Island, to get them settled in for the week and then he'll come home and the play will be over and I'll have huge chunks of my life back. I hope I use them well.
And next weekend, that man of mine and I are going to go to the island to spend a few days with the young lovers and that will be sweet because there is nothing to do on that island but what you want to do and mostly that is rest. Hopefully by then I'll have my house back together, some more things planted in the garden, some more good days with my grandson with his sweet-arm-hugs, his dancing, merry eyes, his fast-running legs, his incredibly smart mind, his smiling, smiling face.

I'll get through this day and it'll be fine. I am not a small child whose life is buffeted by the winds of crazy. I am an adult who has worked so hard to find a place in her life of sanity and love, who has, in some ways, succeeded. The garments of childhood do not fit me anymore, I need to cast them aside. The words my brother send to me are not really mine to read, much less to accept as any sort of indictment on who I really am or what I really do.

But Lord, it makes me so tired to gather the effort to find the place inside of me to realize and do that.

So tired.

But here we go. Find the joy, the find the balance, find the Truvy, find the strength, find the fire, find the humor.
Oh. I think that is the worst of all- when my humor flees me and I am left with nothing but the bitter ashes.
Well. It's still there. I know it is. And I will find it. I GUARANTEE you there will be plenty of laughing today with my friends and with my family, too, and if I seem to need to keep crawling back into Mr. Moon's arms, then that's okay. He opens them every time and holds me and tells me he loves me and even if I don't always feel that I deserve such riches, well, I have to remind myself that I didn't deserve a lot of the things that happened to me- both good and bad- but that my job here is to take what I need and to leave the rest and to be so very, very grateful and aware of the best.

Amen.
Happy Saturday.
Love...Ms. Moon

17 comments:

  1. ahh family..
    is there anything more confounding or crazy making?
    you will feel better when you are rested.
    I wish you sweet rest.
    peace out.
    Yo

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  2. No, not "is some ways succeeded."
    Just "succeeded."
    You have succeeded.
    You have.

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  3. Oh, Mary. I think you have to stop opening the emails, at least for a while.

    E communication has its downfalls. I felt so anxious, to receive them from my father when things were bad. I didn't want to see his name in my address list, or a highlighted in my inbox. The heart sickening fear and dread of it.

    I think you should blok them, or reroute them to a specific folder for some other time, or whatever it is your mail program iwll let you do. Just so you can get a break from it all. It eats away at you. And no, there's probably not a lot you can do about it.

    My sister needs, or at least need, something form me that I just coudn't provide her with - in the end we just have as little contact as possible, and that seems to work the best. Families. Sometimes we're all healthier seperate.

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  4. I can't not open the emails from my stepfather either. even though its been years since he's sent me mean ones, I still get shaky if I see one from him.

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  5. Family.

    Well, enough said.

    We are all here, listening, Ms. Moon, our arms around one another and loving you.

    It will be all right, it will be all right. I send you soothing words, your own arms around your own children and the life you've created, there, of beauty and depth and love.

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  6. It doesn't go away,
    but it doesn't define you.
    don't give it power,
    don't let it be toxic. it wins that way...

    you are amazing and tired and too hard on yourself.

    peace to you , Mary.

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  7. Mary...oh Mary I do so feel for you..and I send a hug of comfort to you.

    Mama drama...don't read it if it is upsetting, if you expect it to hit and punch at you in ways you can't take. When I use to get the endless phone calls from my mom I was so grateful that I had caller ID. When I saw Private Caller I could pretty well guess it was her. I chose not to pick up the phone till I felt like I could. Or if she left a message I would choose when to call her back on my terms. I also learned to get off the phone even if I had to lie.

    If you feel the emails/phone calls are poison then don't take the poison. Keep your heart and soul healthy. And if you do feel you need to talk go find that wonderful man of husband and have him encircle you with the hugs of love.

    Learn to ignore what you know will be dribble. Take what is important and throw the rest out.

    I know you are gone when you see this but I am hoping that the last performance and all the rest of your day redeem itself and it becomes the day you would want....

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  8. i feel how tired you are, how much you need a moment to just be with yourself, to sleep until you wake, to putter, to lie in mr. moon's arms and just be. These ancient family dramas claim us when we are most tired. don't open the emails that may disturb your universe. don't. and release yourself from wishing things could be different, might be different, if only. there is no if only. things just are. and your children are beautiful and wonderful and you made them that way just like you are making sweet owen that way. that is what truly matters. you are extraordinary and kind and wise and good. let all the rest of it go. sweet mary. you are loved.

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  9. wise words from the other folks here commenting, i have nothing better to add...except maybe (maybe) for him your brother's anger is better out than in . Its just a shame its directed at you. The phase before that is total denial and I'm not sure that's any better. He'll work it out of himself one day, but hopefully you can keep it a healthy distance while he does...

    xxxx

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  10. I second LPR---you have succeeded.

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  11. Spam your brother, and pull it together, Ms. Moon - you're an actress and the show must go on.

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  12. I know that feeling you describe. I still have it come up--it is such a denigrating voice. But it is hard to some days not believe it when it tells me lies about myself. I work every day at not listening to the crazy committee in my head that has nothing good to say. Those are the old tapes that play. I have new ones that are much better.

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  13. Ah Ms Moon, you are so wise. You KNOW deep down what you need to do. Please just don't open them anymore. When people start telling how and what to write on your blog, that crosses a line that disturbs me to no end.
    I love your writing about how you are not a child anymore. I live in the same space often, confusing the now with the then. Thinking, I just want to be left alone, but I am not a child whose drunk father is harassing her, I am an adult, and alone feels sad and isolating. I can be an adult with boundaries. I am hoping I can figure out how to be near a man without losing my SELF. I am so so impressed with all the work you've done to have such a rich, full, loving, loved life.
    Remember too, brothers can remind us of (and act like) fathers even though we know they are not the same. Brothers learn from fathers ways of relating and being and bullying.
    I think you are doing great.
    Thanks for sharing your heart, the messy, scary , confusing parts too.

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  14. handsandspirit- Thank-you, sweet lady who plants on the verge. Thank-you.

    Lisa PR- In some ways, yes I have.
    So very hard to believe that, too.

    Jo- Yes. Sometimes we ARE all healthier separate.

    SJ- As always, when I write, I know that I am not the only one. It helps give me courage to say what is in my heart- so many of us share so much.

    Elizabeth- You are so firmly tucked into my heart that you have no idea.
    Thank-you.

    deb- Mostly, I don't let it get to me so much but when I am so tired and so emotionally drained anyway...Well. You know.

    Ellen- You are wise. You are experienced. And thus- I believe you.
    And my day and night turned out to be fine. Better than fine. Very difficult but very good.
    Thank-you.

    Angella- "release yourself from wishing things could be different, might be different, if only. there is no if only. things just are."
    You are an angel who is whispering in my ear.

    Screamish- Well, he's been stuck in the same place for about three or four decades now. I wish he'd move the hell on.

    A- We all get up and do what must be done and sometimes- oh boy! The amazing results. Thanks.

    Lucy- I love your complete lack of sentimentality. You are that cold splash of water in the face that wakes me up and sends me on.

    Syd- Me too! But it sucks getting the old tapes in the e-mails.

    Bethany- You are so precious to me. And believe me- I have had a so much help to get where I am. I think that help has far outweighed whatever bad has happened to me and it has made me so grateful to be who I am, with all that has happened because with the help has come love and there is nothing on this earth which could have turned out better than that.

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  15. Dear Ms Moon, having almost exclusively had relationships with actors I totally understand how rewarding, draining and exhausting theatre can be. Two shows in a day is tough. You've done brilliantly.

    I hope you can deal with what's happened to you and your brother's behaviour. You know in your family you have succeeding in creating a wonderful reality, and you should be proud of that xx

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  16. You know what I think about it. I'd like to beat him, personally.

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  17. Oh Ms. Moon. I wish I didn't understand that part about your family, but I do. And I want to send you a big hug. It's one thing deciding they shouldn't be able to hurt you any more and another succeeding. I'm not even sure it's possible. Big big big big hug to you. xxx

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