Sometimes I feel I am standing on the edge of a ledge. It comes suddenly, this feeling, and I never know why it comes or what triggers it. In my mind, the sun is always up and a light wind in the air blows my hair in front of my face as I look out. I get the feeling that my toe rests just as the border of the precipice, and beyond that I have no idea. It's an edge of a ledge, and I don't have any idea what's on the other side.

Yesterday we had a Christmas lunch in a posh place with Angus' extended family. Little nieces ran around with bows in hair and shiny patent leather shoes striking the marble floors. Big smiles lit up small faces at the prospect of roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, and chocolate mousse. Brothers got helpings of roast beef from the enormous hunk of bovine on the counter, smothered in horseradish, mustard, and dreams of an afternoon nap.

I walked through the hallway after the lunch, my short heels ringing along the marbled halls. I felt cold and pulled my shrug closer around my shoulders. I stopped in front of a long gilded mirror hanging in one of the hallways. I reached a finger out to run my hand over the grooved sides-it was cold to the touch and made me feel even more chilled. In the mirror two green eyes looked back, boring holes into the glassy surface. The hair, the makeup, the vintage 1920's earrings...they looked fine. But when the eyes travelled down they picked up the body of someone comparable to a pack animal. I was filled with flaws, the desperate look of someone that needed to starve themselves, and do it well, and do it long.

And I felt the edge of the ledge at the tip of my toe.

And I ran my toe along it, wondering what was on the other side of the precipice.

Melissa has been visiting us this weekend. She's been great company, as she and I watch Extreme Home Makeover and relax on the couch. We talk about movies. She borrows my clothes. For the Christmas lunch, every single item she's wearing apart from the bra, knickers and tights are mine-the jewelry, clothes, shoes and coat are all mine-and I am somehow deeply touched and flattered and happy that she wants to borrow my clothes. She puts on some of my makeup and twinkles my earrings. She smiles at me and we talk and I am a mix between an older sister and a friend with some degree of authority and I love where our relationship is. I toe the edge of the ledge, and hold in my heart the good feeling that we are ok, that we are doing fine right now, just before the edge of her ledge where she hauls herself through the turbulent upper teen years.

That night, after we'd dropped Melissa off at the airport with a box stuffed with Christmas presents and a big hug (for both of us!) I was rewarded with a long Lush bath and a sensual massage from Angus, complete with champagne and "the extra service". My body soft and smooth from ylang ylang, we sipped wine downstairs in our lounge, and still the edge of the ledge was just there.

I have a deadline of some work things to do, so I briefly log in and take care of them. As I go through the motions of the world I would rather not inhabit, I realize that I do the work with dread in my soul. I don't enjoy the work, and even though I love my project team, even their company is not enough to keep me in this work for any longer than I have to be. The edge of the ledge grows menacing as little pebbles slide off the top, my toes making their way off.

My father rang and when we spoke his mood was high. My sister had finally deigned to speak to him after many, many months of ignoring him. My father had been bereft at her completely blanking him, and I have to be honest-as I had told my therapist, while I felt bad for my father, I didn't mind that she was ignoring him. For the first time in my life I had a parent that was "mine". I had someone that wanted to talk to me. I was a favorite, and the only time I've ever been the favorite was by my beloved grandfather, who left us in 1999. So yes-I hurt for my father, but the truth is, I loved that I was finally an ok child, I was finally walking away from the fences I used to throw myself against to get their affection. My father tells me, happily, that they spoke. I refrain from the biter torrent in my mind (Why did she pick up the phone? What-she needed money again?) and simply tell him that I am happy for him. And I am. He's happy, so I am happy, but that edge of the ledge reminded me that it was just there, just there, waiting.

Christmas is coming and I love Christmas with all my heart. Last year I had a deep feeling of disconnect with the holidays and this year I am determined to avoid that. I have stories and blog posts about Christmas churning in my head, things I want to write but just need to set aside the time to do so. With every sleigh bell, every red ribbon, every twinkly light I look up and am so amazingly grateful for Christmastime it makes me want to decorate the edge of my ledge with tinsel and sing O Holy Night at the top of my lungs.

I sleep in a warmed and lovely bed with Angus, and that night I dream anxiety dreams about his ex (who is my least favorite person in the world, but I imagine that's mutual). I also dream that Kim is alive, alive and looking for me, and when he finds me I see Angus has packed his bag and is walking away, only I go chasing after him and tell him that I choose him, that I would choose him, that I do choose him.

Because I would choose him.

And I wake up and the edge of the ledge is there, only it's a calming feeling I have.

The edge of the ledge is not scary, it's just a ledge, maybe it only scares me as I just don't know what's on the other side.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:16 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 1119 words, total size 6 kb.

1 No problem, Helen. I'll hold your hand so you can lean way over and take a look at what's there.

Posted by: Jim at December 05, 2005 01:34 PM (tyQ8y)

2 Over the last few months I've noticed that you're really not enjoying your work at all anymore. While I realize that starvation is really not an option, I hope you'll take some time to examine what you really want to do. Perhaps during another lush bath? I think you deserve one. Whatever you decide, you have my full support--for whatever that's worth *lol*--and I'll send you as much Positive Mental Energy as I can.

Posted by: ~Easy at December 05, 2005 02:04 PM (LN5gS)

3 I always look forward to your posts. No matter what you have to say, it is said with such clarity and style that I marvel. Don't explore the edge too quickly, Helen. We wouldn't want you to lose your balance and fall.

Posted by: kenju at December 05, 2005 02:10 PM (+AT7Y)

4 I don't know if what's on the other side of the ledge is as important as the presence of the ledge itself. Maybe it is there because your are so aware of all the wonderful things you do have, but at the same time how precious and fragile they are. You have had so much loss in your life, so many times where peace and tranquility seemed just out of reach, that the ledge is a leftover of the fear of losing it all, and not being able to do anything about it. The difference is you realize now that you can only do your best, and you don't have to shoulder the responsibility of other's actions/reactions. The other side of the ledge is just the unknown, but unlike a lot of people in this world, you are ready to face it-even if it is a little bit scary. I'll be there with you Helen-even if it is just in thought. Here is to a wonderful Christmas season, filled with lights, songs, family, peace, and love.

Posted by: Teresa at December 05, 2005 02:18 PM (zf0DB)

5 Helen - I know that ledge very well... It's tempting and teasing... It will always be there... I stepped back and made changes.. The ledge is in the distance now...but is there.

Posted by: Amanda at December 05, 2005 04:28 PM (838ff)

6 Firstly, I will never understand (and I am a woman, too) why when WE look in the mirror we only see flaws. Because I'd bet my lunch money you were STUNNINGLY beautiful -- but you just could not see it. Let's try and be a little less harsh on ourselves this new year, shall we? Instead of looking into mirrors and seeing "pack animals," let's see beautiful, capable bodies that can do what no man can do? Hmm? And as for that ledge. . . It is my curse to always want to know what's on the other side. Around the corner. Next in line. And after some very hard times and difficult decisions, I have learned that sometimes we just have to have faith and take a deep breath and JUMP RIGHT IN. You write beautifully of your timid moments, of your shyness, of the trepidation you feel now and again. But if there's one thing that I know from reading between the lines is that you, my darling, live life to the fullest. You want to taste every taste and experience every feeling (even if sometimes the taste is bitter and the the experience not-so-sweet). Your post says it all: you have the loving support of Angus and his children; your father; your therapist; and yes -- I daresay about a zillion "strangers" who come here every day to see how you are doing. GO FOR IT! Take that deep breath! Leap away! We are here for you, in happiness and in sorrow. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at December 05, 2005 04:31 PM (nwEQH)

7 Take a look over the ledge, Helen, you know you've got Angus's hand to hold on to. And he's not going to let go.

Posted by: caltechgirl at December 05, 2005 05:51 PM (/vgMZ)

8 Sometimes you write from *my* heart. That's a little scary.

Posted by: Jennifer at December 06, 2005 12:25 AM (y4DOI)

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