Shadow Work - Part I

For the past year or so I've heard friends talk about doing "Shadow Work", and though interested, I largely ignored it. 

"Your Shadow holds all your fears, mistakes, anxieties and darkest thoughts. It wants everything that you were never allowed or too afraid to have - even forgiveness." ~ Anonymous

Fuck.

See why I avoided this?

In a first attempt at this difficult work, I read a reminder on Shadow Work that hit me full force: It Erupts as an Overpowering Rage, some Indiscretion or Behavior that slips past us. Ouch. What immediately came up for me, and something I loudly denied, was that I like to start shit. I like drama. I like to blow things up even to my own detriment. This isn't pretty, and I'm feeling the immense shame, but I see it and can no longer deny it.

So in the name of change and doing better; what do I get from this? It's said no matter what we are doing if we continue we're getting something from it. First thoughts go to the drama and craziness of my formative years, and though this is a stressful way to live, I'm used to it. I know how to manage it so I repeat the cycle, even though so many of these things happened long ago. I also see a childish part of me that stomps her little foot and says, "I do what I want!". Now I am leaning hard into doing exactly what I want and not people pleasing, but clearly when I knowingly throw gas on the fire I'm not acting out of a healthy and secure place. 

I see a lot of anger here (actually hurt), where instead of using my big girl words and saying what I'm feeling, I do something potentially explosive. When I've been asked, "Why would you do that? You knew what could happen." I've given amazing reasoning, and though my answers had truth, the bottom line is this is my dark side I've avoided.

Many mistakes were made.

I feel a huge weight on my heart at this moment as I ask myself, "What now? You can't change a single thing." I was talking to a friend about my latest shit show of my own creation, and her words were insightful, "How about this isn't right or wrong? There was something you wanted to learn here so you did what would give you that information." She's right as I do learn from these moments (though by all appearances it would seem I learn nothing), yet I'd like a way to gain the knowledge without being seen as someone who lacks control and forethought. 

Doing the grueling works which can feel embarrassing, shame-filled and impossible. Yet looking forward even when falling back. All in hopes that one day this dark side of me will be tamed and no longer find intentionally created chaos comforting and appealing.

Sitting with the Feelings

Death is interesting in that we have all these rituals, things to say, and ways we're expected to process our grief. Yet nothing is said about grieving someone you hated. How do you properly let go of someone who caused a shit ton of suffering? How do you hear people talking wonderfully about this person who was an evil witch to you? 

My stepmother died on May 7th. I found out today because my brother randomly Googled her and found her obituary. She was "technically" my step mother for 33 years but she abandoned all of us once my father died. Amazingly I was listed on the obituary, as well as my brothers, but our kids weren't listed as grandchildren. No tears. Not one. But I'm struggling with what I should be feeling right now, as well as pushing down some serious rage.

The details of my relationship with my step mother are obviously messy, and at this moment I don't feel like reliving the memories. But as memories like to do....they come when we don't want them. I wanted to have fun tonight and sure didn't want to "sit with my feelings".  What's coming up most are rejection and abandonment. These are the things that tend to haunt most of my bad memories. Anger is so difficult when there is nowhere to project it. Though as we know anger is usually covering up for something much sadder and deeper. 

I'm sick of being the little sad girl. Although I started this blog as my own self processing, that I'm also sharing in hopes someone else needs to see it; I look through my posts and don't see much hope. It's there a little as a random sentence or two shines some light, but mostly digging deep into the pain. 

I'll sit with this a few more moments.

Releasing the need to control

If you've known me for any length of time you'd know that motorcycles terrify me. When I was a child I saw the aftermath of an accident between a semi and 4 motorcycles, blood soaked sheets on top of bodies still burned in my memory, so my worry was instilled early on. But since the universe loves to mess with me when I make "I'll never do that!" statements, I've been a passenger on motorcycle rides recently.

The first thing you learn when being a passenger is you aren't in control. Loss of control may possibly be my biggest trigger. If I could control the sun's rising I would. I'm always on high alert for where I'm lacking in control and figuring out what I can take back. Along with the gaining of control, I'm looking at all possible outcomes and what they would mean to my life...my survival. This is a large part of why I developed an eating disorder as my world felt out of control and eating was the one thing I could control.

Now logically you can point out to me all that I don't control: other people, weather, the earth's rotation. But I still try. I will many times tell myself to back off and stop trying to control the outcome, even the outcome for others own actions. New mantras I've created for myself in this area are, "That's not your responsibility." "Stop taking over." "Let go of what you can't do." "Your interference is stopping them from experiencing the consequences they need for their own growth."

Back on the motorcycle. As we started out I found my lower back tensing and the lumber spine arching painfully away from the seat, as I played over horror scenarios of all the bad things that could happen. Curves are especially difficult as I have to completely make my body give into them. I gripped tighter, closed my eyes, and willed myself to not give into the increasing anxiety. At one point I had to say, "You wanted to do this and the only way back to perceived safety is to finish it.".

On the way back it was dark, a crescent moon glowing with wispy clouds around it, stars sparkling in the night sky. I would ease into an enjoyable moment only to seconds later have a fear come over me. Being my ultra dramatic self I even told myself, "Yes, this could be the end....be here and love the hell out of your last moments." The good moments did come as I willed myself to lean back, to be happy, to feel fully alive. 

I lived. I allowed myself the excitement of riding fast, wind rushing by and not a care in the world. The fears may always be present. I've decided that instead of fighting them it may be better to acknowledge their place while also not giving in to spiraling downward with them. This is a new realization I've come to is that healing for me will likely not look the same as it is for you. My healing may mean making accommodations for what upsets me and still moving forward. 

As with most things in life, I can't wrap this up neatly and tie it with a pretty bow. My life is more like a used gift where the tissue papers inside it are torn, and you're using it as a lunch bag instead of throwing it all away and buying a new one. I can't buy a new one and that may be the biggest area of control I need to release. 

Happiness & Anxiety

I had a brief moment this morning where I took a breath, thought about upcoming events in my future and felt happy. I took a deep breath and felt almost OK, less snarky and ready to punch someone. It faded quickly as my anxiety screamed, "You're missing something! What have you forgotten?!?", because my anxiety is my "protector self" and feels I'll surely perish if I'm not 24/7 on top of everything. On a similar note, I allowed myself multiple naps yesterday...I was pretty much a cat! This is something I never do as I'm worried I'll screw up my already difficult sleeping patterns and it also feels lazy. Lazy is scary because nothing is getting done and my life is passing me by. But I'll admit it felt good and I clearly needed it as I still fell asleep for the night without an issue. Sitting with the fears that come up that I "wasted a day".

Along with my anxiety trying to get in the way of all of life, I have fears that whatever governs the universe doesn't want me happy and will hurt me if it sees I'm happy. I know that this is deep trauma from my Evangelical upbringing where I was taught of a God that "cares about your holiness and not your happiness". This fear was compounded when prayers were never answered and shit progressively got worse and worse. I've avoided being too joyful about anything for fear it would be taken away. So even now while not truly believing in a God (though I claim to be atheist my friends will say I'm a shitty one as a true atheist wouldn't be so pissed off at a God they don't believe in) I still hold the fears tightly.

My anxiety and fears tell me that I should never get too happy about anything and along with this distorted thinking comes a word I really hate...hope. I'll allow myself hope for little things - hope I get a good parking spot, hope I don't chip my new manicure, hope the weather doesn't rain on my parade. But hope, even faith, for my deepest desires and dreams? Now that is much too scary to acknowledge. I have faith in my own resilience, my tenacity and my drive, but hoping feels like an astronomical disappointment waiting to happen. 

Yet in what seems like a complete contradiction, I can do hard things. I can step up and do things afraid. I can plow through. But true happiness, breathing easy, smiling and feeling the moment can be elusive. Or even impossible except for fleeting glimpses that quickly fade away. I don't lack in courage but the next step of allowing joy stops me in my tracks.

I had a moment of happiness this morning and I'm going to take my next breath and allow myself to remember it....and maybe even a second more than is comfortable...

Living in the Tension

Sometime in the last 10 years I heard someone explain that feeling where you love someone and hate them, where there are great memories and horrible ones, where there is both good and bad, as "living in the tension". Though we typically force ourselves to lean hard to one side or the other, in all reality there can be many conflicting feelings towards to a person in our lives or our past. This tension can be overwhelming when trying to process what happened with this person and allowing ourselves to feel both the happiness they brought as well as the sorrow.

My first big experience with these feelings was upon finding out that some of my childhood abusers were my relatives. They were the people I liked the most and the ones that made me feel loved and special. I had fun with them, there were wonderful memories, but there was also the abuse. Once I found out what happened to me (well some of it) I felt I needed to hate them. Yet the things I loved were still there. Adding to the difficulty was that these people were who I felt were my biggest supporters; so if I don't have them then I felt I had no one.

I want to be careful here and in no way imply that you should stay with an abuser and "live in the tension". Hard no. If you're being abused by anyone, anywhere, then get out! Once out, you can then process what happened in safety and give yourself the space to feel the good and the bad. Get to safety, get healthy, hold your boundaries and then take a hard look at what went on.

It's interesting to me that for some memories, such as with my ex-husband, I can decently live in the tension of all the memories without getting overly upset or emotional either way. So I'd like to believe at least in this instance that I'm in a healthy place. Yet for others I feel massive conflict when I allow myself a positive memory. I might smile at a thought and then my mind starts screaming "But look at what else they did!!". 

In Buddhism they believe the root of suffering is attachment. So these are moments where I attempt to remember but practice non-attachment. I can remember and feel all the moments of my life without attaching to them, as they don't determine my worth or the journey I'm navigating for myself. 

Doing the Hard Work

“I want to be in the arena. I want to be brave with my life. And when we make the choice to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked. We can choose courage or we can choose comfort, but we can’t have both. Not at the same time. Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage. A lot of cheap seats in the arena are filled with people who never venture onto the floor. They just hurl mean-spirited criticisms and put-downs from a safe distance. The problem is, when we stop caring what people think and stop feeling hurt by cruelty, we lose our ability to connect. But when we’re defined by what people think, we lose the courage to be vulnerable. Therefore, we need to be selective about the feedback we let into our lives. For me, if you’re not in the arena getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.” ~ Brené Brown

I'm a kind person but my tolerance in many areas is fading fast. I've found I can't be around people that aren't doing the hard work. They have little introspection and float around through life aimlessly. They make terrible choices repeatedly without looking at their reasons for making them or how they could choose differently. They blame, whine and point fingers without ever having any accountability. They're cowards.

Now I do get it, as I feel I've spent most of my life reading the latest self help book, going to therapy yet barely inching along in whatever healing or recovery looks like. One step forward then a huge fall down the mountain screaming "Why me?! Again!" as you tumble back to what feels like where you started. But you're not where you started as all those painful blows during your fall gave you information. Now what are you going to do with that information? You have to do the hard work.

I was reading some journal entries from the past year and saw at one point my work came to a screeching halt. Still seeing a therapist. Still trying. But the painful digging deep, making excruciating choices that would have better served me, the looking inward stopped. I floated along as most do. There was immobility, fear and avoidance. I tried to bargain for what I wanted while truly knowing it wouldn't work in the end. This never works...you have to do the hard work.

So I'm back in the saddle and putting more effort into inner self change than I ever have. Through this endeavor my patience for anyone not trying is next to none. I can empathize as I've been there but it's not a space I can stick around for long. I find these people shallow and boring and completely uninteresting.  I'll wish you well and be on my way.

You have to do the hard work.

Shattered Intimacy

I was thinking about what I should do for a post and was challenged with the topic of "intimacy". Gee...this will be easy. Since I'm in no position to actually speak on all aspects of intimacy, I'll do as I do for all posts and look at this through my own current lens and perspective.

Intimacy has never come easily for me. And maybe it doesn't for anyone, as it takes time, trust and another person to hold it all with you. I'll start with saying it wasn't taught to me, wasn't anything I witnessed and to this day I'm still wrapping my head around what it means. Looking at it's definition it's basic meaning is closeness or familiarity. So when bonds are broken early on you're starting off emotionally handicapped. Though I'm big on performative vulnerability, I hold my secrets pretty tight. I've had too many times I've shared a deep insecurity, a fear, a need only to have it later told to others, even mocked and laughed at. So while I'm spilling the Raw Bleach all over the place I'm actually much more private than you realize.

Yet I believe healing is on the other side of this. I believe real intimacy is where we are healed. The trick is to find the person that can take it, hear it and ensure you are safe. So tricky.


Though when I overshare how much of that is in hopes of a quick intimacy that hasn't actually been achieved? How much is a test to see how much I should trust? Or a test to see if the person can even handle what I've said? Avoiding emotional intimacy can be a sign of fear of abandonment. Well now we're getting somewhere!

You don't have to go too deep into my Daddy issues of a childhood to see how much I fear abandonment. Being abandoned can happen in so many ways; distant or neglectful parents, loss of friends, relationships ending. And what happens to those of us that have experienced all of these...repeatedly?

I'm feeling pretty fake at the moment when I think of my blog's name: Raw Bleach - I'm not toning it down!, written with the entire baseline being that I'm fully exposed and laying it out there, yet as I'm writing this I don't want to say a word more. I don't feel protected or that I'm in control. Where I normally write these, 1 draft, stream of consciousness; right now I'm hyper aware of audience. It seems I've just described how I feel about intimacy.

This may be the longest I've taken to write a post as I'm sitting here with absolutely nothing to say. I don't have some cute little tie it up with a bow way to end this. Though I feel we are wired as humans to want intimacy, and need it to function as a healthy adult, it feels rather elusive to me right now. I feel like I've labored up this mountain one too many times, and instead of reaching a peak, fell over the edge. Or got pushed. 

Maybe in time though not holding out any serious hope as that's too painful to want. I'm also a bit of an open wound right now also so triage is the first step; understanding what got me here before figuring out where to go next. 

How shattered do you have to be before you're irreparable? 

The timing of healing

I've spoken before about the processing of past trauma and how long it takes to truly heal. Do we really heal? Or do we just get to a place of acceptance with the pain less present? I don't believe there are perfect answers here, as we're all different, our traumas are not the same, and how our minds work are as individual as each person. Yes, science can tell us a lot about how neural transmitters work, how trauma is stored in the body, and about techniques that have worked for many, but we're all still on these journeys alone. 

Steven King's quote from The Stand really speaks to this for me, "No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don't."

People love to tell you how long you're allowed to process, grieve or cry. They'll give timelines and say you're taking too much time. "Just get over it!" I recently was told that tons of people have childhood trauma and I should have "risen above it" by now. Perhaps that's true.  Also, fuck you.

If you had me give a subject for every therapy session over the past 25 years, you'd definitely see themes that repeat. My father, my mother, my evangelical upbringing, atrocities that were done to me. I agree that 25 years is a long time (and many things are much older) and that there should at least be significant progress. Well there has been progress that would largely be unseen if you hadn't known me in every stage. As each year passes, the recurring themes are there but they are being looked at from different angles, I observe what choices I make because of the past and not the present, I see where limiting beliefs were created and where I can make new ones. I can talk about most of it without crying....sometimes. But the pain of the past can also be very present.

If you've ever given someone a timeline to get over something, I'd ask this, "Why? Why does it matter to you? Why do you feel you need to interject your opinion into another's healing journey?" I believe there are multiple answers here: it's uncomfortable to listen to someone say the same shit, it can be annoying and frustrating. I'd also say that for some they haven't dealt with their issues, stuffed them hard while saying they've forgiven or let it go, and your processing brings it back up for them. There are also the privileged who have never had anything all that bad happen to them and they don't get it. The suffering wasn't dished out evenly on this planet.

I won't ever give anyone a healing timeline. And if I have then please accept my apology, as I'm sure for me to say that meant you were making me uneasy with your growth and self awareness. If you need to wallow in self pity for decades then do it. We all find the strength, many times through the acceptance and kindness of others, when our minds and hearts are ready to heal. Telling someone to hurry up and let go of a pain is about as helpful as shaming someone into better health...your words make it worse.

Sit in silence when another is in pain, walk by their side, be present. Don't give advice unless it's asked for. Your opinions are unnecessary and not helpful. Accept them as a broken hot mess and watch them transform with that healing love. I hope we all come out on the other side.

Avoiding Pain

"What do you need today?" is what my yoga teacher asked as we set intentions for our practice. My mind scrambled for a moment and then I thought of hope, I need hope. A lot of shit feels pretty hopeless right now, but beyond current events, hope is something I've rarely had. Nearly a year and a half ago I gave myself a challenge of having hope for a year, and this fizzled quickly into oblivion. I normally do well with my self challenges but I see this idea was ridiculous considering my mindset at that moment. 

Hope is scary for me. Whether in my God believing days, or now when I'm floating in this odd energy - universe - intentions space, I've felt to voice my hope meant all the powers of time would work together for it to explode in my face. So I've worked hard to not allow for hope. 

In therapy today we discussed decisions I'd made and why I'd made them. My therapist explained, "we find our way back to what's comfortable...when we're facing what we've already encountered, we know how to survive it". My body lives in survival mode and is always on alert for what might take me. What is also comfortable for me is not hoping. Assume the worst will happen so if it's good then it's a nice surprise and if it's bad we were expecting it anyway so it won't hurt us too much. At the core of this is avoidance of pain.

I was listening to a Glennon Doyle talk today where she spoke of feeling pain is to be human. She said grieving is pain and grief is the price of love. "....stop hiding from the pain and instead turn directly towards it and march right into it....you need your pain...there is no glory except straight through your story...first the pain, then the rising". 

First thought, "Fuck this!". How much more pain?!? I'm truly nauseated. But...if you want a different result then you need to make a different choice. So I did some hard life examination and definitely felt pain I didn't want to feel. Doing the work.

Glennon also took part of a quote from one of my favorites, Pema Chodron, and said this stopped me cold, "everything that we need to become the people we are meant to become is inside the hot loneliness of now". 

The Hot Loneliness of Now. I've heard many descriptions of pain, loneliness and life's suffering, but this one encompasses so much more. It's mindfulness, it's sitting with what we think we can't endure, it's taking another breath when you feel you're suffocating. 

I do want to hope. I want to rise. I want to believe my life has meaning. As I recently read, I want to stop "devaluing your identity and constricting yourself to being trapped in brokenness". 

No longer avoiding the pain - I sit in the hot loneliness of now.

Remembering who I am

Don't you just hate cute little cliche sayings? The kind of saying that always come out of the mouth of someone who seemingly has a perfect life and gives you this big grin after not hearing a word you've said. That's how I feel about the saying "You have to feel it to heal it." I also think this saying is true and that pisses me off even more. I'm fairly skilled at not feeling. Though when you stuff it these feelings can bubble up at the most inopportune times, like the middle of a work dinner or at a friend's wedding. What doesn't come out then manifests in the body and seriously fucks you up. I looked hard this weekend at what I didn't want to feel.

So in addition to examining my life choices I needed to bitch slap myself back to remembering who I am, what I want and all I faced to get me to this place. I forced myself to read email, text and journals that caused me pain. Sometimes I cried, sometimes I raged but frequently I felt nothing, and in that nothingness I felt emptiness. This work can be so draining while necessary.

I had to ask the hard questions of "Is this true?" "Why do I care?" "And even if there is some truth does it really need to stop my life and happiness?" "Where do I go now?"

I found myself driving and an old song came on; "Gloria" by Laura Branigan. Many of you will have no clue what this is, and the rest of you are feeling really old. It was a sunny warm day, I was speeding down the highway and found I was singing at the top of my lungs. This used to be my 'go to' karaoke contest song. I don't have an amazing voice, or anything special, but I could belt the "Gloooorriiiiiaaaa" part so I won a lot of contests. I was happy. I felt like "myself". I had that moment I so needed where I remembered who I was. I was alive, smiling and fully present. 

Did I fully feel it all to heal it all? So doubtful. I find healing comes in waves and fluctuations; sometimes you almost feel free but then something old and painful hits you from another angle. That's OK. I suspect I'll always be looking at traumatic experiences from many angles and where I'm currently at in life. Does anyone truly rise above their past? If you're doing the work, I say yes, but know that the work can change, morph and collide...you just keep at it and don't let anyone's expectations of what rising above should look like or make you feel like you're back where you started.

Today with a warm breeze flowing through the window, my cat by my side, hair wild and curly, sipping on some raspberry wine...I remember who I am. I remember where I started. I honor my progress. I rise above. I sing at the top of my lungs.

Examining My Life

I woke up today feeling uneasy with no real reason as to why I had this feeling. Certainly more than enough happening in our country to cause upset, but this felt deeper. I thought back to yesterday and realized I'd wasted the entire day away. I did a few errands but otherwise nothing was accomplished. Time, and how time is used, are big deals to me. The older I get, and perhaps there is fear here, the more I'm aware of how little of my time is left and I want it to count. Yesterday I felt lazy and couldn't find the energy for even the smallest of tasks. From a balanced perspective you could say my body needed the rest so I can go back to fighting the good fight another day. Yet my anxiety is screaming and hugely disappointed in me.

I spent a lot of time thinking yesterday. I stared outside at the trees, sat on my porch looking at the clouds going by, looking back over this past year. I read journal entries and noted how little I'd written. I looked back at the calendar on my phone to remember events, what happened and how I felt at those moments....and how I feel now. I pondered what was the truth of the last 12 months and what was created in my head from my own insecurity and longing. 

Though I hate the wasted time, perhaps my mind (soul?) needed the stillness. My body was immobile for a reason and instead of scolding myself, I should honor that need. I fell down this past year. Fell hard. I'm now picking myself back up, observing what happened, and seeing what needs to be done so it doesn't happen again.

I used to spend a lot of time raging at myself for a fall. I'd punish myself through thoughts and words at what I saw as stupidity and carelessness. Oh lets be honest....I still do this. I do this but I'm better, I catch myself, I ask myself if my self deprecating talk is bringing me happiness. Is any of this helping my life, my actions or my future? 

I examine my life all the time. My friend said, "You examine your life like someone trying to find a needle in a haystack." Well said...I look, and look, and look and never find what I'm looking for. What am I looking for? I'm looking for delight, contentment, safety, euphoria, peace of mind and pleasure. I'm looking at why I do what I do, why I think what I think and ways I can do it all differently. I'm looking at the reasons I fall, but also acknowledging there was a lot of joy and happiness while falling (which is of course reasons for not stopping the fall).

As I always like to look at the other side...my self examination can go too far. It can go from observation and understanding to ridicule and self hatred. I can tumble down the rabbit hole of "Why? Why? WHY!?!?" and then instead of learning, all effort turns to crawling out of the hole. I sometimes envy those oblivious people that never examine a thing, as never looking deeply at any of your actions probably makes for a much more serene life. But that's not who I am...I need to ask these questions.

So I stand at the edge of the rabbit hole, trying not to fall in, while being honest with myself. I should forgive myself. I should give myself the space and grace I give to others. I should hold my head high and own it all. I'm not there yet but I refuse to go backwards.

Ruminating

I ruminate over past experiences, and most specifically mean and rude things said to me, at an obsessive level. I will pick out one sentence, sometimes only a single word, and it will play on repeat in my head. In therapy I'm being encouraged to challenge what was said and whose voice it really is. I find frequently that though someone else said something to purposefully hurt me, the voice saying it and agreeing is my own. 

A therapy technique I learned years ago when thoughts are incessant is to out loud say, "STOP!". It works, sometimes, when I think to do it. Another way is to notice 5 things pertaining to the senses: what can I see, what can I smell, what can I touch, what can I hear, what can I taste? This can dissipate the thoughts momentarily. 

Yet I think the truth of why they come back and I ruminate on them is that I enjoy it. Not enjoy in the pleasurable sense, but enjoy in that it's comfortable to me. What would I be thinking about if not something terrible that was said to me, a horrible thought I think of myself, or some combo of the two? 

I feel there is some sort of self preservation here. As long as I know every way you'll try to cut me, I can get ahead of it and hate it first, that way when you say it there won't be shock value and I can agree and move along. Self limiting beliefs that I somehow feel help me survive.

I'm working with a Sex Witch as a life coach. (Oh are you now interested?! LOL!) We've been talking about self limiting beliefs, how mine were formed, what aren't true and how to get to the other side. Being the reigning queen of self help books, programs and efforts, I'm always trying to get to the other side. I mean really...how the fuck do people have such confidence? Did their parents tell them they could be anything? Was this naturally ingrained into them without any external cheering on? How?! 

I expect for me this won't be some instantaneous moment of self love, but a lifetime journey. I know I'm not alone on this path, though I can only walk my own way and for myself. If I could only root for everyone else, as I really do see the greatness in each of you, then this would be easy.

Back to those ruminating thoughts; they aren't mine. Maybe that's a good place to start. Just because some mother fuckers were out to destroy what little self esteem I have, doesn't make their statements true. (deep exhale) I'm reminded of what I said to my rapist, who I stayed with, as I was leaving for good. He said, "You're the ugliest, fattest bitch I've ever seen and no one would want you! You were lucky to have me!" I replied, "Maybe that's all true. But being alone is still better than being with you." Even if all the cruel things said to me are true; I'm still more than enough, I'm fine alone and none of you fuckers will break me.

A blog post a day for 30 days - Day 30 - Acceptance for Today

A lot can happen in 30 days. I started this writing journey talking about my resilience and I think it's also a good way to end it. As I began my writing I'd gone through an incredibly traumatic break up, was stuck in my home alone during a pandemic, and digging deep to find my inner strength and power. At the end of these 30 days (well 30 posts...I had many days I was immobile and unable to form the words) all these things are still true along with my city (and country) in immeasurable pain and suffering.  It's a good and harsh reminder that your world can change in an instant.

So what is resilience? 'Able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions.' I'm not sure this is entirely true for me. I can withstand almost anything. I'll lock my jaw, plow forward and come out looking stronger than ever. But in truth, I don't think the recover quickly part is honest. I hold onto pain, ruminate over it, and internalize it. When horrible words are said to me they knock me out, instead of understanding that it's really a reflection of the ugliness and pain of the person who said them. I can logically say I know it's not true, and who fucking cares if it is true, but down deep I'm in agony.

I feel like all my posts make me ponder how to get to the other side? How do I find safety, hope and happiness? What will it take to believe the wonderful things said to me and live my life in full knowledge that they are true? 

I'm sure I used this as an example in a previous post, but since it's been with me for a good 35 years it bears repeating. What I considered my life theme song was "What about me?" by Moving Pictures. I was talking to a friend this morning and we both talked about having hope and faith for others, yet feeling it's unobtainable for us. Why not me? What about me? "I guess I'm lucky, I smile a lot, but sometimes I wish for more than I've got...What about me? It isn't fair. I've had enough now I want my share." This feels so self-serving and whiny in light of current events...and it is. Yet the painful feelings remain even as I try to shove them down.

Yet I do know the answer to the other side I so desperately long for and it's acceptance. "Forgiveness means giving up all hope for a better past." All the "WHY ME!?!" won't change what happened. It happened.  Accept it. I made bad choices but also was traumatized repeatedly. Life doesn't hand out the suffering evenly. And how many of these choices were a result of not dealing with the trauma? Many. Maybe all. What gets in the way of acceptance for me is comparison and jealousy. Many times I'll force myself to like Facebook posts where I'm actually burning up with jealousy. Everyone deserves happiness, and these people experiencing and celebrating they joy didn't cause my pain, and they sure deserve acknowledgement too. I suppose in the back of my head I'm hoping that if I can be happy for someone else that maybe someday that good karma will come back to me. 

Today I accept that I can't change the past. Today I accept that I have many wonderful things in my life to be grateful for. Today I accept that I do have resilience. Today I accept that I am strong, powerful and sometimes pretty fucking awesome. Today I accept. 

Tomorrow I may revert back to a shriveled mess of self loathing and hatred. But today I will sit calmly in acceptance, breathe and know I'm enough.

A blog post a day for 30 days - Day 29 - Alone

I was almost at the end of my 30 days of writing and then the world fell apart. What can I even write at this moment that wouldn't be completely tone deaf? My voice is not appropriate at this time in history. I've learned a lot in the past days about my own ignorance, blindness and privilege. I'm listening and I'm learning.

So in an effort to alleviate some anxiety, and get this shit out, I'm going to talk about my own tiny experience and feelings as we all hurl on this rock through space. We're all overwhelmed, in shock, and feeling pretty helpless in all of this. Sadly, and boo hoo hoo for little me, the biggest thing I'm feeling is alone. I have amazing friends checking in on me, as they know I'm not good at self care, and will take on the entire pain of the world myself. My company is unbelievable in their care and concern for their employees; I actually feel loved....ever say that about a company? I'm super privileged working from home, no loss of income and comfortable. But I'm alone.

I've talked about being alone, and it has many wonderful things and many awful, but it's different now. I feel like the world is fracturing and burning up and I want someone to say they will stand next to me and won't leave. I'm looking out my windows each night, by myself,  for the evil that could come to shatter me. It reminds me of school when they'd say to "buddy up" and everyone had their person so I was standing by myself. People care about me, I've had support and offers of assistance from so many, but it doesn't stop the pain of being alone.

Speaking in full honesty I have to flip this though, because I've had friends and family tell me I had shelter, a safe place, anytime time I need. I've declined. Now my biggest excuse, though very real, is I don't want to traumatize my cat. Laugh if you will but his foster mommy said she feels he has PTSD from being left behind as a kitten, and it's been over a year of me nurturing and loving for him to feel safe. I have PTSD, I know what it's like to not feel safe, and my kitty is a living being who I don't want to feel harm. Yet am I choosing this valid excuse over both mine and my cat's possible survival? This isn't all of the story.

I've prided myself my entire life on being self sufficient. I held this over my parents' head that I've been on my own since I was 16 and no one has helped me. My stepmother even said once, "You never asked for help. You wouldn't let anyone help you." True. I will do anything, and I do mean anything, not to have to ask for help even if I need it. If I'm forced to ask for help I want to pay for it....money, exchange of something, but there had better be a way that in the end I don't owe anything. I love to help others, think nothing of it, yet get physically ill at having to be helped. 

This all speaks to actually wanting to be alone. I don't. Yet here I am. Survival is what I do best. I'm sure you're reading through what I think is my hard exterior. I hear sirens in the distance. I have it great compared to so many. Need to wipe my tears and get back to enduring what is next. I'm fine. We're all allowed a moment of self pity, right?