Scorpio Passion

The other day I spoke to someone who was genuinely surprised to learn my birthday was coming up, thus making me a Scorpio. When they said, but you're so nice, I chuckled a bit and said, well, you've never scorned me. I was also recently complimented on my energy as a yoga instructor. Not like the energizer bunny sort of energy, because we all know I desperately lack that, but the energy that radiates from each of us. I was told it was positive and uplifting and my students can feel it, and that it's not something you can teach to new instructors, or anyone for that matter.

These couple compliments, combined with my utterly unhealthy obsession with my vampire novels and my continuing drama of being married to an alcoholic, all got me to thinking about a few things.

1. I must have some vampire magic to be able to exude such energy or a positive and uplifting aura, if you will, because God knows... as does my family, most days that's just not me.

2. Perhaps my obsession with reading stories of epic love, magic and fantasy is what allows me to hide the anger, resentment and negativity that otherwise consumes me.

3. The passion that engulfs Scorpios is like an addiction. It is an addiction.

I've often wondered why I get so addicted to whatever it is I find that pulls me away from reality. Ultimately, I know we create our own reality. Yoga, as well as many self help books I read as a teen and young adult, and my Jewish faith has reminded of this truth time and time again. I can only feel consumed by anger and resentment if I allow myself to. I am only down on my self or life or all that feels wrong if I focus on those things and allow myself to feel down. Despite knowing this, there's that side of me that is passionately pulled by truth, so to not feel these things seems like I'm lying to myself. Because the fact is, I'm not happy. It's that simple.

I realized the man I have loved for what feels like forever was hiding his addiction too late. I was already overtaken by the passionate idea that fate reunited us and our paths crossed once again because the universe was screaming, this is the way it was meant to be, you silly girl. Don't ignore it or walk away again. Over the years, I have watched this man I knew in college, who was wild and crazy and loved me like no one else in the world existed, slip into a version of the man I knew he could become. I also always knew he could have just as easily morphed into a different man, if only he cared enough about himself to become that person. It's heart wrenching to watch and even more grueling to accept this reality when you love someone.

So, I'm back to submerging myself in the fantasy world of supernatural beings and magic and well, stories of the kind of love that takes your breath away. I become obsessed with, addicted to, stories that describe the passion that can surround two people so completely that the drama, trials and tribulations and darkness that undoubtedly lives in this world seems like daisies and rainbows as long as they have each other. Many times, a long time ago, our love felt like this. Despite not keeping in touch very often, if at all, for a couple years, that love I once knew was part of the pull that told me many times, before I finally listened, to call off a wedding to someone I was never meant to marry but rather I had simply lost myself in the idea. That love saved me from a very different path I was on. Yet, that love that pulled me back to my path seems to have gotten stuck back in that other life I once knew.

Facing my current reality is not something I can emotionally tackle. I've reached a point that I have too much anger to cry. Even when a "normal" feeling person would and "should", I find myself stoic, at least to the sadness. The anger is something I'm quite able to express. Lately though, I get this overwhelming need to cry. Often many times each day. Yet I still can't. Sometimes I think I can't because if I let myself, I won't ever stop. Every regret, every ounce of anger, frustration, resentment, sadness, grief will seep through and because there is just SO much of it now, how could I ever stop? There's just no time for tears. While I feel it's important that my kids learn that tears aren't a bad thing, I also don't want them to think I'm always sad. I don't want them to know I'm always sad. I want them to be happy. So, I fake it. The best I can anyway. It seems, based on some of the recent "compliments" I've received, I'm doing pretty well at faking my positive, content and uplifting vibes onto the world.

Based on what I know about, be the change you wish to see in the world or be the light you wish to fill the world with, as I like to picture it, the fact that I'm able to do this so well would imply that I would start to feel that light within. It's been quite some time now, over a year since I started my yoga teacher training anyway, which is when I was able to hone in more clearly on pushing that light outward, yet I still can't seem to feel it within me. Maybe I just won't allow it in because it seems every time I feel a glimmer of it, I taste the bitterness of another lie, another letdown and the hope once again fades.

This makes me wonder. Is it my brooding, serious Scorpio side that prevents me from absorbing the very energy of light and love and contentment I can exude? If others actions can't control how I feel, then it must be me, right? Is it the side of me that screams, be careful not to scorn me or you will feel my inability, or lack of desire, to forgive and forget, forever? And thus, I hold on to that feeling of being scorn, over and over, and allow it to consume me. Is it possible for a person to change their essence? I do believe everyone has both darkness and light within them. Despite my paranormal fantasy books being just that, fantasy, there is a great deal of truth to them. That is one of the truth's I certainly believe.

My addiction to these fantasies is clearly a representation of what I crave the most in my reality. My inability to put one of these fantasy books down once I start is part of my personality that desires a passionate life. A life of meaning beyond what mere words can describe, a life of love that means something, of trust that has no limits. My Scorpio side that feels everything to the umpteeth degree tells me to keep reading because my reality is too painful. To truly face real life and accept it for what it is, at this moment, would mean I have to let those tears escape. To do that would mean not knowing when or how to stop them. So, my overly practical, I am strong enough to face anything side, runs in the opposite direction, leaving my own light and darkness to battle it out inside as I show the outside that all is calm.

Right now I simply know no other way. Meditation forces me to accept things I don't want to. Playing with my kids reminds me that I must make very difficult decisions that will impact their lives forever, and I am beyond terrified of making the wrong decision for them. Practicing yoga feels selfish, as well as being a road towards accepting reality. But teaching it allows me to "fake" my reality, my light. It's all very ironic, really. The one thing I desire most in life is trust. Passionate and irrevocable trust. And here I am forcing myself to pretend. To lie to myself. To lie to all those who see something around me and within me that I simply do not feel. As always, it seems we've come full circle.

As fate would have it, I started another one of my vampire books today
and this quote started the second chapter.

 

Rainbow Bridge

I'm sitting here trying not to cry so I can see the screen. I'm trying not to shake so my fingers can hit the correct buttons on the keypad. I'm trying very hard to put letters into words and words into sentences and to even think clearly because a couple of hours ago my entire brain seemed to short circuit. I went upstairs to my room to grab a book for my neighbor to borrow. What I found was completely unexpected. I saw my fur baby, Apollo, laying at the foot of our bed... and I realized he wasn't moving. I said his name. He didn't move. Like I always do when I call his name and he doesn't move, I looked at his big boxer chest but this time instead of getting that instant relief, I froze and stared a bit longer because I saw it wasn't moving either. I bolted downstairs and told my husband and neighbor that I thought Apollo was dead... and I wasn't going back up there. I've said this before since he can sleep like he's in a coma, so I allowed myself to have a brief moment of hope, the tiniest moment. In my heart I already knew the moment that I saw him. This time I knew he wouldn't be trotting down the steps behind them to greet his mama with his goofy boxer wiggle.

I've never lost a pet. I only had a cat once as a kid but my mom had to give it away when we moved because they wouldn't allow cats. As an adult I found out she didn't take it to a farm like every parent tells their child when they give their pet away, but she took him to the pound. So, I never truly experienced the loss of a pet, because Apollo was my first to lose.

My heart has always ached for those that have lost their beloved pets though. Once I had Apollo I knew how dogs aren't just dogs, they really are family. This dog in particular filled a void for me that no one else could, at a time when I didn't think my heart would ever heal.

I recently adopted another fur child because I felt so guilty that I couldn't spend as much time with Apollo, or give him the attention he needed, once I became so busy with my kids. I hoped that having another pup around would give him the companionship he craved while giving the pup we rescued the comfort of a safe, loving home. And a crazy, big fur brother to play with and protect her. All he wanted was to be loved, and to love. I hope he felt just how much he was loved until his very last breath. Actually, I wish it with everything I have so that just in case he didn't know maybe that energy can reach him wherever he is now and he'll feel it. Despite driving us a bit crazy most days, I loved my Apollo.

That's one of hardest things about this. Apollo was a very high maintenance dog. As such, there were many days when I thought how life would be so much easier once he passed on. I even talked about and looked into finding a good home for him, a couple times. His separation anxiety was beyond compare. Since a little pup with his little cast on, he's been a handful, to say the least. Yes, one of the kids where we bought him dropped him a few days before I was set to pick him and he broke his leg. That whole, oh dogs won't pee and poop where they sleep... yeah, not this crazy guy. He would crap all over his crate as a pup and them stomp through it simply out of spite! I came home from work one day to the whole guest bedroom splattered in his crap! So, we left him out. The first time we tried this he apparently jumped at the front door, scratching and chewing at it, trying to unlock it all day. Another time he managed to use his leash hanging on the closet door to open it and drag everything that was on the floor in the closet out and all around the house. The vacuum, paint brushes, you name it.

So back in the crate he went. He figured out how to unlock the crate with this mouth I assume based on the amount of slobber all over the place. We pad locked it. Not a good idea. He would flail his body off of his crate when he couldn't get it open to the point that we believe he damaged his spleen which is likely what led to twisted stomach which led to surgery for both issues. This was about 5 years ago. So, back to no more crate. Once we had kids the baby gates came in handy. Especially since he took up the hobby of counter surfing. This is a dog who would puke at least weekly due to his anxiety or stomach issues or who knows what but he could eat a pound of raw chicken off the counter and be just fine! If nothing else, Apollo was one of a kind.

Clearly, he was quite the handful. But anyone, anyone he didn't attack that is, because yes, he started to do that shortly before the kids were born, could only say one thing...he's such a good dog. In so many ways he was. Like I said, all he ever wanted was love and attention. Period. He was a 60 pound lap dog whose desire to protect his family often got him in a bit of trouble. He seemed to have a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde personality at times too and would often forget that he just met someone and they were okay and proceed to go after them like he was a momma bear protecting her cubs. Just yesterday he managed to bust through the gate, which wasn't latched properly, and jump on the mailman. Thankfully, he didn't bite him. But that also means yesterday was one of those days where mommy was very angry with her fur baby and the hubs was cursing him and well, today, today he feels a bit like he cursed him to death. And I am feeling so guilty because I can't even remember if I gave him a hug or pet him today!

I'm truly in a state of disbelief. I can't believe that my baby is gone! There were far too many times I dreamed of the day of not having to find someone to house sit him because he couldn't be boarded...the whole crate issue. Days where I wished I could just have the kids friends come over to play but I couldn't take the chance of Apollo jumping on them, or worse, or having him chew and scratch the door I put him behind while we had friends over. There were far too many days when I knew all he wanted was a walk but I couldn't because if he went after someone I might not be able to hold him back and keep the kids safe. I hated having to sit in the "bad doggy" hallway at the vet or waiting for people to come out so we could go in because he was just too unpredictable. There were far too many days when I thought life would be so much easier without him.

Now that day is here and all I can do is cry. All I wish is that he didn't die alone and I could have helped him or at least held him as he moved on to make sure he knew just how much he was loved. I hope he jumped right into my Pap's arms when he crossed over, because I know my Pap's been waiting for his best bud to come meet him again. It's the only part of losing my first baby that gives me the tiniest bit of peace right now. Because right now, I feel like he deserved so much more from me.