I remember the first time he fell deep in love with someone else. It was weird. I had a 2, 4 and 8 year old… Lots of songs went through my head. I will share a few. But this one I love so much. Possibly because 15 years after my divorce, and after our 10th year when he fell in love with someone else at the same time Garth Brooks did same and I was no liking Garth for his infidelity with his now wife, but I get it now. We are not always meant to be forever. But this song? It is true for my life… I wouldn’t have changed a thing… but glad I didn’t know.
This is going to sound weird. I have, for the first time in my life, a tomato plant. It’s a topsy turvy one, but it was beautiful to watch grow from a small plant to a huge one. I didn’t anticipate much, as I don’t have a green thumb like my mother. But, I did manage to get two tomatoes. Two is better than none. They sat on the vine for 2 months green as what my thumb is not. Obviously.
Then, a week ago, another one started growing and it’s doing amazingly well, while my two green ones are still sitting on the vine, not turning red. One alone growing quickly, two together not.
Three nights ago I touched the larger ones, and one fell off. The other one refused. The one green one that fell off was hard. Lifesless really. Like a rock.
Next day, the one left on her own started to turn red. Amazing. Unfortunately something was trying to attack her so I pulled her off and cut off the growth. But she is now growing beautifully red in the window, while the counterpart remains hard and green.
I’m talking about tomatoes, I know. But it makes me think. When I left my ex – the one I was psychotically in love with, when I got rid of that rotten green tomato, I started to show my colours. I did have to cut out a part of me to move forward to turn into what I needed to become. Just a part though. My love for my ex was real, but it was overwhelming and I knew it was not reciprocated in the same way. He was the hard green tomato that would not change colours. He grew in his business, but not in our relationship.
Today to me that is all okay. I enjoy my life as a single person, moving forward and now taking courses to become a PRISM Life Design Coach, which includes my passion of handwriting analysis. I get to do what I want, when I want with no judgements.
The lesson I learned when I realized my tomatoes were not changing colour, was that something was wrong and I needed to figure it out. They were just side by side together too long and the one that wanted to change colour didn’t because she had the one that didn’t change sucking off of her.
When you try to be what someone else wants you to be, and try to remain the same colour, it is exhausting. I needed to find my colour. I needed to blossom.
And everyday I am working on this. The red tomato. 🙂
The other green one will just be a green fried tomato. The red one will be in a fun summer salad…. summer is not over yet!!
I write here about spychotic love and the different levels of psychotic love. One can be food too. My mom was a great cook. She also wanted to make sure we were respectful enough to finish everything on our plate when we were young. She’s not like that anymore… much. But an interesting thought. I became bulimic. I was for 30 years. I was apparently, what I thought, spychotically in love with food. But it turns out I really wasn’t. I was in love with a person that left an emptiness. They say that “part” that exists, such as my bulimia, is a part that is there to help you survive the other part. The part of emptiness. I suppose. I’m not 100% sure. I know one of my psychiatrists told me that it saved my life. That it was a slow suicide, but not something that was quick that I could not overcome. He then said I was like China doll. Cold on the outside, but fragile. That to me, made sense. I guess he was right in saying I hid behind my bulimia. And “it” was my friend. “Have your cake and eat it too” kind of philosophy which I wrote a book about but back then, I think I was too close to it to write about it. Today I don’t even know.. or I can say, I can’t understand why. Why I became bulimic, other then my blogs. They are the only remembory of my reasons for being one.
I tend to find some solace in knowing Jane Fonda, amongst many other actresses, “suffered” from this for many years. But was it suffering? Or was it a lack of someone out there just saying… You don’t need to do this to yourself. You are just perfect with all your imperfections and I love you. Learn that internally and you will be fine. That’s what happened to me. It even left that bulimia “part” of me sitting next to me while I went to bottom of the pit and was coming back again. She was still there, but not in action. In watching me as I healed from what she tried to save me from. She’s still there, but not. She’s a friend now, not a foe. I have to thank my sister for that. She hit a word. And that word I can’t really remember, only know, next day, bulimia was there, next to me, but didn’t want to hurt me anymore, she wasn’t active. I didn’t need to eat my anger, or pain and throw them up anymore. I just became…. me. And realized emotions need to be dealt with. And it isn’t so bad… One psychotic love gone… turned into mindfulness. Bulimia = food. Now a new world. And they get along. 🙂
So people tell me I’m too nice. That’s all okay. I would rather be that then too mean? Too self involved? Too untrusting? Too unloving?
Seriously? What is wrong with being too nice. There are adjustments to make if you choose to remain so in a life that is not so nice, but really, what is wrong with being outside of the norm? Last post I wast writing about home. About coming home to blood, and the difference between healthy psychotic love and not so healthy.
I spoke to my daughter today who is one of my healthy psychotic loves, and she was describing atoms and quarks and fascinated by the fact that the further the something something is the closer they are, like an elastic. She brought up the cellphones, but I said, they lose connection… so I was not in total understanding of the elasticity between atoms, and quarks, and such. I could understand one thing though. The elasticity of two people who love each other and when they are apart, the feeling becomes stronger. A bit of psychotic love… depending on whether its a desire, or a want, or a need, or love period. Is the distance when in love perceived as inticing? or is it pleasant because of the distance? or is there a true longing to be back together, like the elastic that my daughter was talking about? … I don’t think I had the elastic band feeling ever… with my ex husband. Did a bit with my ex-boyfriend, but that was different psychotic love that will get to later after I’m over my ex husband story.
I liked him being away. I liked him gone. I felt free. His long trips made me happy. I did love him psychotically, but his presence made me feel diminished. Small. Ugly. Nothing. He never could really fulfill my need for just love. I didn’t want expectations. I wanted a friend. I never had that with him. YET, when he was away, he wrote me the most beautiful letters. Back when we wrote letters. And I missed his written word, that I never got the same emotional level in person. I think I fell in love with the writer, but the person behind the writer was not the same. We started our relationship in letters, ended it in words. Maybe we should have written letters to each other more… 😉 All good though. Glad to be with me today.
I don’t hate him. Sad he kind of stole my beautiful youth in a way, but funny thing is I still feel young enough to enjoy what is left of my life. This because I have built a beautiful world of family and friends around me that allow me to stay feeling young and happy and secure. I also love myself more then ever. Definitely not psychotically… LOL… but really in a good way.
These are the things to remember when you feel down… no regrets. The fun times will alway prevail. Last time for everything… including …. yes… last time… you get it!! 🙂 Love this video. Makes me smile.