Friday, August 5, 2011

Fucking Peter Gabriel

er, that's not how it sounded, but I wish.
okay, no I don't. Jon Hamm, maybe. Or these days, Adam Levine. But anyway.

I blame Peter Gabriel for my angst this morning. Like a Pavlovian trigger, In Your Eyes, took less than two minutes to take a sunny day and turn it angsty. Or maybe I've been hovering there all week. It's the whole end of summer/time flying thing. There are days I can't take it. There are meds for that, I know. Maybe I could use some.

Trust me on this: It's hard to get older. To see the days flashing by. To watch your face and body change no matter what you try to do to hold it suspended in your youth. Life is hard. Then you die. Someone famous once said.

And, I'm not fishing for compliments. I know I look pretty good for 47. Still, it aint no 25. Thanks anyway, though.

I sound gloomy, I know. Apologies. It's that fucking Peter Gabriel song that gets me every time.

I've had two unrequited "loves" in my lifetime. It's amazing how those stick with you no matter how many years pass. In both cases, the boys (men, whatever they were) pursued me, then dropped me without warning, and without a willingness to remain friendly or ever basically speak to me again. When I think of either of those people, it still hurts -- or worse, brings me back to this intense place of longing. Is there anything more angsty than longing?

A few years ago I read (in the New York Times) about a study that demonstrated that, when we remember something painful, it triggers a chemical or a spot (forgive me on the technical details) in our brains that actually momentarily behaves as if we are reliving the pain at that moment. Ah, then there's a science behind it. This makes me feel less crazy.

At any rate, Peter Gabriel just brings me back there. And so he did this morning. Luckily, there's water in my back yard and a bathing suit right over there.

- gae

17 comments:

  1. Your title intrigued me so I had to read this blog post. Fuck Peter Gabriel indeed. You vent well, ma'am. Wait, no, scratch the ma'am. That will only add to the age angst. Just get to the pool, OK?

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  2. (It's too bad, though. I like Peter Gabriel. ...but I know that was so not your point. ;-)

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  3. this is the saddest blog entry i've read in a long time. pain in the past doesn't fade much for me, i guess because i tend to try to push it out of my mind instead of fully experience and process it. when it gets dredged up, it's as fresh and painful as when it happened. my new thing is to try to experience (or re-experience) the pain fully, and think through it to the best of my ability in the hope that by doing so i will process it and move it out of the festering wound category and into the healed wound category, or at least the healing wound category.

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  4. Chris, thanks for always reading, absorbing, commenting. Yes, I will hit the pool soon.

    pvm, I was hoping there was some humor in it too, and consolation that our brains actually sometimes add to our inability to shrug things off completely. Btw, sometimes I try to do that "rexeperiencing" thing too. To see if I can blast the hurt with hurt until it passes. Ouch. :)

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  5. I heard/read that too! (about the brain spot) Sooo makes sense. PS In Your Eyes reminds of my wedding, so I looooove it. A Woman's Work, on the other hand...

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  6. I read an article a long time ago about the association between smell and memory (honeysuckle and my youth; lasagna and my dad; chlorine and summertime), and how we associate memories to the first time we smelled something (perfume and a girlfriend / cologne and a boyfriend).

    Music has this same type of effect on me. It's such a memory trigger. I can't listen to "Winter" by Joshua Radin without immediately becoming melancholy. (In the same way I can't listen to "Freedom" by Rage Against the Machine without wanting to punch a cop.) (er)

    My point is, I understand how Peter Gabriel did that for you.

    Now you should go listen to Peter Gabriel's Biko, and have yourself a good cry.

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  7. As hillbilly as it makes me sound I will forever associated Billy Ray Cyrus with the menage a trois that wasn't. Yeah, there is a chapter of a future book in the pain of lost opportunity.

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  8. Love this post today. I love the honesty of it. Living in a anti-honesty-allowed place right now. It's only temporary. What am I learning from this? This is where I'm at. Oh, and how will I use it in the novel, because that's where it will end up used most resourcefully. Angst opens up the biggest creative flow in me, in most of us I'm sure.

    But this honesty saved me today, somehow. I think it's knowing that it's actually okay to not be okay with everything.

    :)

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  9. jeff, yes, smells, those too.

    travis, hah! pain is pain, even if it's a lost menage a trois.

    tracy, yes, there's that, about the creative flow, except for the days (like today) it gets the best of me. But then I got in the choppy wild waves for a swim and feel all better now. I hope you are soon too. <3

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  10. *HUG*

    "This too shall pass."

    xoxox

    max

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  11. and, so it did, Max, and so it did.

    Of course, it will be back again too. ;)

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  12. Gae I have these moments too. Sometimes recalling a moment can fill me with the most chilling embarrassed rush. The pain, not so much. I have worked hard through pain. But embarrassment-oh.

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  13. Gae, I'm at the point (age 52) where I kind of chuckle when I look at my face in the mirror, when just a few short years or maybe even months ago I was chagrined. It's like "It's this, or worse, or nothing! coming up!" so I'll take this. And I'm going to learn to love it, if it's the last thing I ever do. Saggy tits? So what. Droopy buns? So what? Jowls? A whisker on my chin? I'm just waiting for an age spot to appear. Screw it all!! As long as I'm healthy and fit, I'm getting off the "grieving over the loss of my youthful beauty" kick. Easier said than done, I know, but I can't let it go on for the rest of my life. I am learning to love this face and body just as it is, whether anyone else does or not. I hope that is possible; I have an inkling, just a tiny one, that it is.

    Also, I'm susceptible to aggressive male flirtation and pursuit. Been taken in by it more than once, only to discover it wasn't sincere affection at all, just a desire to conquer. Boyhowdy, it did hurt at the time. Boy did it take me a long time to recognize it for what it is. I bet this is common for us gals, too, to think "He likes me, he really likes me!" until he drops us in the dungheap and goes after his next challenge. Thank goodness all men aren't that way; at least, not all the time!

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  14. Kate, I trust I'll get there. What are my choices?

    *breathes, breathes, breathes, breathes, breathes*

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  15. Songs do that to me, too. My husband doesn't get it. He says, "Just don't listen to the lyrics." Oh. Okay. That should work. (Note: He has been hard of hearing in one ear most of his life. He doesn't understand lyrics most of the time. He just listens to the music.)

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  16. P.S. The captcha for my comment was "spechal."

    I'm spechal. So spechal. God, I hate that song!

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