Just Because You Know What's Wrong With You, That Still Doesn't Make It Go Away.

Present.

I’m discovering as I learn more that I must have one of the unluckiest natal charts you can get. Not ONLY do I have Saturn square my Sun, Moon, Mars, AND Mercury, but I also was born with my midheaven right on top of the Weeping Sisters, and throughout my entire childhood I experienced a really awful phenomenon called “Saturn Chasing the Moon.” (It didn’t end until I moved out of the house and got away from my BPD mother. Isn’t that appropriate??)

Who the FUCK has all that? Not to mention: Saturn yod with Neptune and Uranus, and Saturn is the highest planet in the chart, the “handle” of a bucket formation.

Hmm.

It is said that the Weeping Sisters guarantee you a life with lots to weep about.

No shit.

Something else just occurred to me. Anne Ortelee, when she looked at my chart, told me I’d have met and married someone else by October 2017. I don’t know what she was looking at—Well, yes, I do. She was looking at Chi! But I looked at the same chart and transits and saw me hearing from Chi again. So did Alice Portman, and when I went to class, my teacher pointed out some additional indicators of something Big and Fateful happening then.

At first I thought, well, I can forgive Anne, she didn’t have both our charts. Then, I remembered: Yes, she did. She told me Chi was eight years old emotionally. (Now, that I can believe.)

I was right, over a big practicing professional Manhattan astrologer.

So I guess I’d better pay attention to what I see now.

Except … (and I’ve been through this once already, so I guess that will help.)

This, like last fall, is where I go: It’s May. Regardless of the accuracy of our charts so far, free will trumps charts every time. Here’s where it doesn’t happen, and I never see him again. And even though I know how horribly dangerous this relationship is, how unhealthy this person is from a bad childhood, and how resistant he is to doing the work required to get well … I’m still hideously depressed. Really, really hurting.

I already know I’m supposed to be grown up. Not needy for relationship, not fused with other people, just taking care of what I have to do every day, humming to myself and in a happy or at least even frame of mind, like everyone else. But something’s just plain wrong with me.

I know that this place where my heart just hurts and hurts is really just that baby and young child from 45 years ago, squashed by sick parents and rejected by cruel schoolmates and let to cry all alone. I know. But I still can’t make it stop, and I still can’t make it go away.

And I really need to get over this, because I see now, from the time my husband died, I was going to be all alone in my life for at least ten years, no matter what, and possibly even longer than that. I may have the power to barge in and change what’s going to happen. If I insist, I don’t have to be all alone for the next ten years. But if I do that, there’s hell to pay. 

Basically, I can choose to be all alone in my life now, or I can put it off until I’m seventy-one. 

I’m wayyyy better off doing it the right way … doing it now. If I grab at the relationship now, because I’m too lonely and weak and sad and scared to just walk away and accept that I might be alone forever and ever more, it’s a sick enmeshed codependent relationship. The same things happen in that relationship that have happened so far in theirs. I’m Rory, and he’s Chi. Nobody learned anything. Nobody got well. And it ends horribly at an age when NOBODY wants their relationship to end horribly.

Clearly, that just can’t take place. So I’m left with:

Scenario One:

He shows up on schedule. He’s still codependent, of course, because he sure as hell wasn’t doing anything with his recovery last fall, and I didn’t see much chance of that happening anytime soon, not with the attitude I was hearing and the people he spends time around. I still have to send him back home, and request once again that he address his own problems, not everyone else’s. We wouldn’t be back in each other’s lives for keeps in any case before 2023 (and there’s more in his chart supporting that.) And maybe Rory wakes up along the way and 2023 never happens. Because if she makes ANY change for the better at ALL, he stays. He doesn’t want to upset his adult children and his family. And that's the way it should be. Iff she wakes up and does better.

Scenario Two:

Something’s happened. He’s too codependent to even try ever getting out of there no matter how miserable he is, or Rory woke up and they fixed their marriage, finally. Summer goes by and he’s just, gone. Even if my transits are right and some relationship shows up in five years—it’s just with someone else—I’m STILL alone for five more years. The only way not to be alone for a total of ten fucking years is to accept an illicit affair with Chi this summer—and that turns out bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Even though we have a Davison with very good potential. As I said, it seems that the reason good Davisons don’t turn out good is: Somebody’s being an asshole.

And what do we usually call people who have an affair with a married person (among other things)?

Although, I have to say: that 2023 relationship is reflected in all three sets of charts and transits. AND progressions. That speaks pretty loudly to me.

Whatever happens, I’m alone for at least five more years, and possibly even longer than that. Alone with the housework, alone with the laundry, alone with the dreariness of life.

It’s not like I haven’t met new people in five years. It’s just that they’ve all had emotional problems, or none of them fit like the relationships I always needed and USED to have.

This is when I go right back to thinking, Those were the good times in my life, and now they’re over and today sucks. There’s no point reminding myself that the company of a stuck, unhealed, self-loathing codependent wouldn’t help. He’d just yes me and resent me, yes me and resent me, then talk about me behind my back and attract another affair instead of risking and showing up and connecting and being authentic and being real, and the relationship would LOOK wonderful and BE fake. (Just like their marriage.)

I know. And it isn’t helping.

Why can’t I just be healed and live life like other people? What is it going to take to change my feelings and get me there?

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Shortly after I wrote all that, this thought surfaced ... 

(coming next week ...)