Marriage Mirage

I try not to write about other people in this blog, because eventually it will come back to bite me in the ass. However, though isolated I may be in waking, the Dreamworld is full of people influencing me in ways they would never imagine while awake. For cases like these, I must maintain anonymity. I'll refer to the persons in question as X and Y. Like the chromosomes.
Rock on.

I understand that a long dream is normally around five minutes but feels like an age. The one that concluded last night's slumber was a doozy on the sense of wellness. In it, Person Y announced his plans to marry Person X. Their relationship was widely known and supported, they had stable jobs, and they were very much meant for each other from the start. The issue was that I never saw or spoke to Person Y throughout this entire dream. My job was to go pick up the bride-to-be at a party.

When I arrived, there were about five brides-to-be, all about the same age and description. Somehow, I knew which one was the right bride, but I couldn't bring myself to approach her. How would I introduce myself? What if she was truly charming? I wanted something to be wrong with her, and she morphed through all phases of crassness. I lingered on this for a long time.

I'm at a stalemate when it comes to romance. When I see a happy couple, I'm filled with two emotions: bitterness that they've found their other halves and hubris that I am still free to do what I like without accounting to another person. These are easily the two strongest emotions I've been feeling the last few months. I know I'm unsuitable for a relationship, because of my cynicism, paranoia and need for solitude, but the longing still presents itself at times. The happiness that surrounded the prospective union of Persons X and Y left me feeling empty on awakening, though it is important to me that I not find myself entangled in another naive, possessive, loveless mockery of a "relationship." Each additional day that I've been single feels like a landmark, and truly, when I am adventuring alone, I barely miss other people at all. But it's in the planning and the aftermath, when I ponder what it could have been like with someone else, that I feel very sad.

However, because of the steps I have taken in the last few months/years, I decided I was not going to let this resurgence of self-pitying emotions spoil my day. I combined a few techniques in the shower: the feeding of the demons and the cleansing radiance. I gave the loneliness demon a morsel of my angst, and it went away. I envisioned myself as a blazing light cracking through the gunk the demon left behind, and when I got out of the shower, I felt clean in more ways than one. Nonetheless, I still wish I could find a more lasting approach to this, preferably a social one that doesn't turn the social experience into an obligation but marries the need for companionship with the desire for freedom. Maybe it will be there when I wake up next.

Practice

I spent the weekend in Spokane, watching about 1200 caps and gowns file up, across, and off stage. My grandma told me to yell for my brother when he came into view. I found that I couldn't. Seriously. I could not raise my voice.

In 2009, while doing a documentary on the placebo effect, I had my aura read by two different people in two different states. Both readers noticed my crown chakra (mental) was ablaze with energy, while my throat chakra (communication) was about the size of an amoeba or Donald Trump's charm. I've been getting steadily quieter over the years too. I sound perfectly intelligible to myself, because what I say registers clearly in my mind, but it's rare anymore that I don't have to repeat a phrase two or three times to be understood. It gets unnecessarily frustrating.

The cause is two-fold: one, I don't want to be disruptively loud as I was growing up, and two, I prefer most conversations to be private without bystanders leaping into the dialogue at the first convenience. The issue is that my concept of volume is shot to hell. As a child, I was a screamer, an exclaimer, a singer, etc. In short, I was loud all around. It drove many people nuts, particularly the adults in my life, who invariably told me to tone it down. After a while, especially during the pivotal 6th grade year, which saw the first big blow to my self-esteem, I learned that it was better to be silent, discreet, inconspicuous and therefore hidden from critical eyes.

Where this presents a problem is in real social situations, like graduation, or a sports game, or really any exchange in which more than two people are involved. I can't hold my own in these situations. I don't know how to barge in, cut people off, or make my point. I'll start to say something, but it's either too quiet or devoured by the existing momentum of another's soliloquy. I may have a very good idea in mind, but I just can't get it heard. This has been a great contributing factor to my ongoing isolation; it's not that I want to be in the spotlight all the time, but to actually be included, heard, welcomed would be so very nice. Nonetheless, this has remained elusive over the years.

A runner's legs grow thick and strong, a swimmer's arms as powerful as legs. That which is not used atrophies. Such is the case with my voice. There is this need inside me to shout, proclaim, sing, project, SPEAK for crying out loud, but my voice does not follow my heart and stays timid and weak, still afraid of sixth grade disapproval, despite the extraordinary progress I've made in other fields. I understand the mantra of "Practice, practice, practice," but I have no direction to motivate me through the mire of imagined criticism. I'm afraid to sing in my own room and car, for Pete's sake, out of fear for disturbing others with a sound not unlike a cat with its tail caught in a garden edger. Yet, I want to be loud again, badly, and I'd rather not wait until the magical age of 75 when all inhibitions go to shit and I can say and do whatever I want while people understand that I'm just old then smile and nod. Maybe I just need a better grasp of what it is I want to say. What do I want to say?