Stepping Into Mourning..the evidence of grief…

About a year ago..while employed..I began the progression of coloring my long, blond locks of hair into the deepest, darkest shade of mahogany. It was my first venture of going dark..almost Gothic in my look. It was my venture to look at things from the other side of the looking glass. It was the means of looking at myself and stepping one hundred percent into feeling…and it was not something I enjoyed or might even recomend. Except the end product me today..this voice..speaks of wanting to be in no other place than I am in now…

I began with taking the blond and shading it to a strawberry blond…it was in that and the wrinkled up noses of my acquaintances..that many wished I stayed blond….I was easier to disect..I was easier to place in a box..category..assumption. And in all honesty I hated it…because it proved everything true with how we treat blonds, versus brunettes…how we treat heavy versus slim…how we treat stupid versus intelligent..It has always been easier to slip me into a bracket of useless, stupid, flighty and only good for one thing..if you view me from my blond hair, blue eyes, long frame and slimness..As my ex-husband used to say…”you have little use..”…and what use I had…you know what it is.

We are decieving ourselves if we do say we do not have the same thoughts against others and against ourselves..every moment as we engage ourselves in this world we face and acknowledge..keeeping some and throwing some away..the thoughts that cause us to treat others and place them in various brackets.

I then progressed to a light auburn and that is the point I realized I do not look good in orange…the scattering of freckles I have designated me as Irish…that color seemed to anger people the most. It seemed to place me in the in-between bracket and they had no idea whether to listen to me or not..It was easy to glance me off and not seek something from me when I was blond..It was thought I was stupid and had no knowledge..yet the darker hair with the blue eyes and slim frame presented a mental challenge..and I noted that others wanted to seek me because now I was more approachable..yet there still was a confusion..

I noticed people looking me in the eyes more..waiting to hear my answers and seeking me for answers and solutions to their problems..The first words out of their mouth was not my beautiful blue eyes..it was about me being helpful and yes I became intelligent and worth their time through a simple haircolor change…

Men would engage me in conversation with their wives and girlfriends present and she was not threatened..and it was because I was no longer blond…men looked me in the eyes and my chest was no longer an object to view solely. Suddenly there was many more aspects to me than many thought were never there….

Then the news came..from a friend…that my mother..me being her twin…the woman I barely knew..had died. All I had of her were the memories and pictures in my head that I had spilled out across a keyboard of my book..and the one picture I had of her..turned away from my father..holding one of her children in her arms..her hair was dark and so was her facial expressions..and I knew what every aspect on her face meant..saddness and grief..so there began my journey into me, mourning, change and choosing willingly to enter the dark room and to risk everything to find me…all of me.

I took the hair dye and went even darker…my natural waves and curls in my hair became straight as a board and thinned out this long, angular face even more. My eyes deepened to a shade of blue, grey and saddness and thought were in them..I started to pick up words and cues and see the place I was in..what was happening and it overwhelmed me with grief..

I was alone..no matter how you looked at it..I was the only one there to defend me..fight for me..seek me…It was me alone on this journey..I disappeard to many..became this void and I became the wallflower..something I had wanted for years…

It was during this time I grieved again the death of my brother..I grieved the loss of siblings..and losing my family connection forever..It was here I fully saw my sons for what they had chosen to be…not what I had made them to be..what they willingly chose and there is where the door closed…and I realized no pictures or memories of their cuteness could change what had been done and it cannot be restored..

It was during this time I went even darker into color and my hair had the deep prurple hue of black and I loved it…It was during this time I wrote some of my greatest work about my childhood…I took myself into the mind of me and allowed myself to speak about the girl who became the woman and that she is wounded…yet whole somehow…and almost new to this world and so many things and has just begun this travel..

It was here I mourned my marriage and realized what he was attempting to create in me..I can see his frustration as he attempted to mold me and make me into his creation and how I would not cooperate…I can see him today..even today attempting to control and dictate to me and cause me to fear. Cause me to think things that really are not true..I saw him place his values on me and I saw myself shrug them off and hand them back to him…I saw myself begin a fight for a house and then to release it and knowing that my sons would never be returning..the family would never be restored….and it was time to go…

I saw myself at a job which was damaging me…sinking me into the oblivion of self hate and a belief that this is all I deserved…I watched others take another’s wounds, fears and poke them at me with regular intervals because they found it humorous…I saw the disease which decided to inhabit my body take over and show me that it was killing me and if I was to remain here…it would do it quickly..regardless as to what I wanted to do…

It was during this time that I looked in the mirror and saw all the grief, lies, self hate, trust issues…all of it piled up in me..creasing in the corners…and I saw this woman fighting to come out of this skin…and it is in that moment I unzipped the coat I had been wearing…shrugged it off and stepped out of that life..that job…that false security…and faced what I always thought was truths for me…I went home and ignored all the questions, comments and beliefs hurled at me like balls of fire and sat on my couch and wept..for a long time…

I began to hear my voice..I began to hear my brother, my best friend…I began and continued to hear what people were saying to me and some of it I did not really like and that began the cleaning up part of this grief..this mourning….Things I had been told I was not allowed to have…I applied for…walls I had placed around me were removed and I let people in…and when some spoke as to what I was and that I did not fit their criteria..I smiled because I had the greatest understanding of what I was and they had no idea..not even about themselves…

Things changed..I moved through the grief…I moved through the places and I began to know what needed to be done….

So I sit here at this keyboard after an absence of shoveling the piles of hate, judgement, pity, rejection and falsehoods until I passed out..I sit here with my hair lightened to its strawberry blond..just maybe a bit deeper..It took work to get it back to this shade..me to this place…I had to take color remover..twice and take the color out and watch what my hair was originally and actually was…and I was pleased…The golden light returned..yet they danced with the strawberry. I removed people, attitudes and activities from my life..just as I took the dark color from my hair.

I was more aggressive and used another product to take all the deep purple from my hair and after that I saw the curl and wave return to my hair…I saw people become unsure of me again and not quite know how to address me or to define me…and that I liked…

So I sit here with my blond locks back..longer now then when I started out with my dark hair…Little bits of strawberry peek out and I turn and look at a picture of my mother and think…think about what needs to be done..what needs to be said and am loving this voyage of discovery…

I explore and look and see all those things I was told I was not allowed to have or not worthy of..showing themselves to me and revealing what is mine to have and I whistle…I now sit with doctors..not with anger and hear what the disease is doing and have a plan of action as to how I can make it manageable with their assistance…I look to different housing and the space that I want..and it is not confined to this city or even state..it moves out…It explores dreams and possibilities that can be a reality if I so choose that one..or two…

It speaks of healing old, burning wounds..it is stepping back from my story to see me within that story…it is playing in the feeling world no matter which emotion arises and commands my attention today…it is packing up my home, whistling..and giving away that which no longer belongs to me…it is hearing reports from MRI’s and blood tests and placing a medicine within this body so today I can write for this moment and not have the tremors be my master at this moment…

It is having the last bottle of haircolor that will bring me back..to the light, light blond almost white blond hair of my Italian heritage…yet waiting..it is not time yet…I still must stay in this spot for a bit longer…talk to the wounds and words that I have defined in me…it is the moment when I will mesh the two and I will be fully here and present…

It is that process of grief I embarked on..not even knowing it…not even grasping what was happening…wanting to hide and disappear and at a point getting my wish..to where I became negligible…of no importance or value to anyone…and then coming back to me…and thinking this journey has just begun..and realizing that the whole purpose..each moment of the last year was for me…to venture to that mirror..look into my eyes…see the lines around the eyes and the furrows of my brow..the age and disease upon this body…and feeling the movement inside me..to where there is the full roar of laughter…the bubbling forth of giggling..the crooked smile….and walking out of that room..closing the door and whistling….and no longer being the wallflower….

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~ by HopeGlenn on February 10, 2012.

4 Responses to “Stepping Into Mourning..the evidence of grief…”

  1. Beautiful words and story …I am so proud of you for writing this 🙂 I Love you Mandy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    Like

  2. Thank you….I am glad my words arte appreciated…love returns..

    Like

  3. Love is always there Mandy xxxxxxx

    Like

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