This is a difficult post, as they all are, and I've been avoiding it for months. Though I'm going to be vague in details, I still want to be raw and open about my thoughts and feelings on it. I'm still struggling with what I want to say and truly processing it all.
There was a skill I thought I had for many years that I've recently learned wasn't as good as I thought it was. Wasn't something I used for work, really just a fun party trick, but it was something I was proud of. On the short list of things I said I was good at, this was on top. When I was down and feeling like I wasn't one of the talented people, I'd remind myself that I had this.
Now I did know my limitations with this skill. I had no illusions that I'd ever do anything special with it. Yet it brought me happiness, I had fun with it, and again....I felt good about it.
So this supposed skill got put to the test and I apparently failed. Or I felt like I failed. Words were said to me that shattered me and my confidence was pulverized. No one intended to hurt me. Yet they were specific words about things I'd pushed down and tried to ignore so this shining light on them burned me.
The thought of doing it now makes me cry. I can't even do it for my own enjoyment alone. It's gone. I'm specifically not saying what this is as I don't want commentary about it, advice on what to do, or any other bullshit. I've heard enough.
As I contemplated my feelings over the past months I'm realizing I'm experiencing loss. I'm grieving what's gone. I'm sad over what was actually never there. There is anger (underlying hurt) but I have no one to be angry with. I find I'm silently screaming to the nothingness, "Why?! What do I have now?! I didn't have much to begin with!".
I'm also facing an ugly quality about myself here, where I shut down when I perceive things as going wrong. Black or white. In or out. I've been noticing this in aspects about myself as well as how I handle personal relationships. My therapist typically asks me, when I talk about issues in my life, "How old does this feel?". And this feels like a teenager.
When I was about 15 I was in my living room practicing ballet. I loved dancing and wanted to be a dancer when I grew up. My parents were in the middle of a bitter divorce at this time and everyone was edgy. My mother walked by and said in a condescending tone, "What are you doing!?!" I said, "I'm practicing so I can be a dancer." She let out a hoot of a laugh and said, "You'll never be a dancer! You're too short!" I quit dance that next week.
About a year later my parents were divorced and my mother was with a violent man. His friend's daughter had come to our house and dug in my room and found my ballet dress from when I was 11. I loved this dress. I thought it was the perfect ballerina dress and I dreamed of giving it to my daughter some day. I came home to find the dress destroyed. No idea why this little shit did it but I was told I couldn't do anything because "he" would be angry. I decided at that moment I never wanted to have a daughter (and later other reasons came into play as to why I only wanted a son).
I don't want to be this person who checks out when something hurts, when there is loss, when there is disagreement. I don't want to believe that everyone must agree with me (politics anyone?), yet I sort of do. I want to be able to enjoy what I felt was taken away again someday....
I'm a few hours off of being under anesthesia so this post may be a bit convoluted and off kilter. Just need to get the words out that are scrambling through my brain. And really...aren't all my posts actually this way? 😊
I had a colonoscopy this morning. Nothing wrong; just one of those age appropriate preventative checks. Before going in for it I was pretty vocal about not looking forward to the "prep" (sitting on a toilet all day). I was told I shouldn't be talking about it. Many made faces and said nothing. Now admittedly one of the times was at a meal so my timing was definitely off. What was most clear was this was an off limits subject. This was something to be said only in certain company. Yes, most of us will go through it at some point but I was supposed to be a bit more subtle about this.
I've found when it comes to the human body there are societal norms of what we should talk about and what we shouldn't. What we should feel sorry for and what we mock. What are appropriate conversations and what should be said in more hushed tones, if at all.
It always, and I do mean always, comes down to is it considered sexual or not. Thankfully with enough press and discussion, breast cancer isn't a taboo subject anymore. Finally men are encouraged to do breast self exams and talk to their doctors about issues. Yet all things vagina, penis and rectum (and all the parts in between) are still body parts that can elicit embarrassment, shame and nervous laughter. Side jokes about prostate exams, a woman not wanting to have sex is frigid and God forbid a man have erectile dysfunction. 43% of women and 31% of men have reported (again, only those saying it) some form of sexual dysfunction...would you be willing to talk about that the way you would a hamstring tear or needing a root canal?
So we don't talk about it. We hide it from medical professionals because we don't trust their responses. We don't mention it to friends because we fear them not understanding. Or what's happening or not happening is simply "gross" so it's easier to stuff it away than face it. But why are these things disgusting? Why is our normal human body function (or dysfunction that could be helped) something to be ashamed of?
Well we learned this growing up and some of us got it worse than others. We're born naked without a care in the world and then at a certain age (determined by your upbringing) we were told we had to cover up. We began to be told what was appropriate to say out loud and what needed to be silenced. In many religious upbringings there was intense shame around anything sexual outside of marriage and this included those same body parts which are used for many other things!
I wasn't able to complete my colonoscopy today because I wasn't "cleaned out enough". (About to go TMI so move along if your delicate eyes can't take reading this.) I've had chronic constipation for 22 years to an embarrassing level. If I did tell anyone it was as a self deprecating joke. It started with pregnancy and then I later went on to make things much worse with my eating disorder by severely abusing laxatives. Between the laxatives and clear liquid diet yesterday (felt like starvation) it was an eating disorder trigger zone and mind fuck for me. I should have had what they called a Double Prep but I hadn't told anyone about my issues. I did everything I was told and coming up on 11pm last night nothing much had happened. I knew I was in trouble but was hoping it would work out. So why couldn't I just say to the doctor that I have a shit ton of problems with my intestinal system!? (All puns intended...) Shame. Fear. Embarrassment. All over something every mammal does.
I have more to say on this subject in multiple areas. But I'm groggy from being under and need to end this here. So why don't we talk about these things?
Everyone that's made it out of preschool knows you'll be talked about in this life. There will be lies. You will be spoken about from their perspective. You will be cut down, made fun of and mocked. The old saying goes, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me." I'd say throw a stone at me any day because words can slaughter me. We comfort ourselves saying we don't care, ignore the haters, be above it...but come on...it hurts.
Speaking of stones, and the owners of glass houses that should not be throwing them; do I talk shit about others? All the time. We could probably say daily. I feel justified though because "I'm only telling the truth!" "They won't know!" "They say far worse about me!" So is karma kicking me in the ass when I can't take what I've dished out?
I have a coworker who I butt heads with constantly. I rip on her to anyone who will listen. Why can't I just shut up? It's partially to vent; I'll go to other coworkers who experience the same thing to get their confirmation that it's not just me. I'm angry at her actions and have nowhere to place the anger except with words. I can even own that I get enjoyment from it. It's a passive aggressive way to "get back" at her while she knows nothing. Sadly in this situation if it weren't for her awful work actions, we have a ton in common and could potentially be great friends.
When my parents divorced my father pretty much went door to door talking about my mother. He wanted it known that the divorce was her fault and he was "innocent". He did this without care or thought as to how it would affect his children. He was a pastor at the time, and stepped down from his role due to the divorce. Between the things he said, and typical church gossip, the stories took on a life of their own. At one point I heard it said that my mother and I were hookers (I was 15) and I was doing coke. To take the weight and pain out of what was said I would reply, "You could at least pick the drugs I'm on!" (I smoked pot.) I broke down when no one was watching.
During my own divorce I know my (ex) husband said a lot about me. He shared things that were personal. He wanted me to be the bad guy and for everyone to be on his side. We've since reconciled all this and get along great. But I am still haunted by people, many unknown to me, who have information about me. I get bothered by what they think they know and that a piece of me is out there that I can't get back.
With all of this, and many more moments, I have a huge need to control the conversation. I want to defend myself. I want to be right. I want it to be fair. I don't want my secrets revealed. I want you to shut the fuck up.
Yet control is an illusion and impossible. People will hate you for no reason. They will hate you for good reason. Your secrets will be told to hurt you. Your vulnerability and honesty will be used against you. And you will do all of this to others as well.
So what would happen if I somehow found the strength to let their words roll off of me? What would happen if I stopped talking shit as well?
I have shameful secrets I think I will one day expose here because I know others suffering need to hear they aren't alone. What stops me is the fear of what others will say, how they might laugh, how they might view me, how I can't control the conversation once the words are said.
Looking for freedom from them and from myself.
I've been playing with a few posts but while writing they weren't resonating with me. Nothing seems to be working. Saw a dumb Facebook game where instead of them telling you things you should write (Ex - Favorite Color?, Where were you born?, Etc.) you list 10 things about yourself no one knows. Interesting and Raw. I was going to do it on Facebook but decided my blog is a better place and felt safer. If you know me decently well you'll know some of these but I'm hoping everyone gets a few surprises.
1.) I'm Danger-Prone-Daphne (Scooby Doo reference for you young'uns). If you can fall into it, over it, on it....then it's happening to me. Amazingly I've only broken 1 bone (a finger) as I get hurt all the time. I can perfectly sync up with a line dance, walk off the dance floor, trip on air and splat on my face.
2.) I have an eating disorder. The clinical name is EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified). I like to say it's the one that doesn't end in a sexy A (anorexia, bulimia, orthoexia, etc...). I like to say I'm a good 85% cured on a good day. One author wrote "It's like someone who hurt their leg, they learn to walk again, but every now and then you detect a limp." I believe those of us in recovery need to speak openly about it so others can release their shame and get help.
3.) I smoke weed every day. I have multiple conditions that would qualify me for medical marijuana but I've never been certified. The cost of getting certified is ridiculous, and the quality I get is also medical. So why would I give them money for certification if I can use that on more weed? (Uh...because what you are doing is illegal...) I feel strongly weed should be legalized and I'm vocal about it. Probably too vocal.
4.) I have a medical condition called seronegative spondyloarthropathy (and I'm incapable of pronouncing that last word correctly). How it was explained to me is "you have all the symptoms of an autoimmune disease but it's not showing in your blood work". In constant pain every day, all day. I get a small break in my pain each night once I'm off work, home from yoga, not driving, just before I go to bed. This is the primary reason I use weed (not the only...I won't kid you).
5.) I used to be a pastor's daughter. Hated it! Whenever someone finds out they love to lower their voice and make some comment about being a "bad pastor's daughter". (oh wow...you're so original...) I've thought about this a lot, as I certainly wasn't reading my bible and listening to Michael W. Smith. The things I did which would have been considered "rebellion" were really just exploring. I'm a naturally curious person. I'll try most things once. There was never peer pressure for me as I already wanted to do what they were offering. I never thought about acting up or being troublesome....I just wanted a big life.
6.) I'm Agnostic / Atheist. Raised Evangelical, forced to say the "Sinners Prayer" around age 5 (and asked big questions that they couldn't answer at this same age), hated it but had so much fear of burning in hell that I stayed another 35 years. Releasing Christianity was one of the scariest and freeing days of my life. I will some day write more about this but it's too long a road for me to go down right now.
7.) When I got divorced I changed both my middle and last name. And my last name isn't my maiden name. My new middle name would have been my son's middle name had he been a girl. My last name is my grandmother's maiden name. I was using these names together as an alias to rip on my old cult church and to fight with strangers online. My friends were all Facebook friends with my alias and knew it was me, and this included my son. When I was deciding on the change I asked him if he'd be upset if we had different last names (my mother has been married 4x and the constant name change got to me). He said, "Depends on what it is". I told him it would be my Facebook alias name and he said, "Perfect!" so that was all I needed to do it. The new name brings new freedom and owning of my life.
8.) I have a bunk ass degree - Bachelor of Science in Natural Health. Online college, not accredited with anything, yet it seemed aligned with what I wanted at the time (also during the height of my eating disorder). I have the degree (if we can call it that) framed and don't know what to do with it. It's worthless and brings me shame.
9.) Calling a Customer Service line scares me. I have no idea why. It can be something simple, fixable, easy and yet I will procrastinate to a ridiculous level. I know through therapy I have an over-arching belief with everything of "I'm going to be in trouble" (now this is typical pastor's daughter). In all reality I've never been in trouble. A couple speeding tickets, late bill or two, never fired...so no need to be in terror over a phone call. I've even considered paying people to call for me. It brings me that much anxiety. (I would never be a "Let me speak to your manager!" Karen)
10.) I don't believe in Soul Mates. And frankly I find people that use the term to be smug and obnoxious. I believe people can be much better matched together than with others. I believe it's both being lucky and making good choices. I believe it's work. But when I hear something refer to another as "my soul mate" I have to run to the bathroom to puke.
Care to share yours?
*Picture is me with my first bible
If you know me even slightly then you know I love Star Wars. Not just a fan...I'm full on crazy for it. Star Wars is my thing. I have a lot of things that make me happy but Star Wars is special for me. I've been laughed at and made fun of for it, and admittedly I've done this to other people who are into something I don't understand, as we all have our thing that does it for us.
Rarely do we know the backstory to why people get obsessed with something. Most of us don't share why at 50 years old we want a light saber tattoo or still look to the sky at night in hopes of seeing the Millennium Falcon zoom by. The reasons may surprise you and you might even find a different understanding towards others odd things they are into.
Star Wars was the 2nd movie I'd seen in a theater (the first being Apple Dumpling Gang) and it blew my mind. We were living in Leesville, Louisiana, which was a hick town outside a military base. We didn't even get hit movies until a good year after they'd been out. Star Wars was like nothing I'd ever seen and I was mesmerized. I spent many nights looking out my 2nd story bedroom window at the night sky dreaming of Han Solo taking me out of Leesville.
My father was a raging misogynist so I wasn't allowed any Star Wars toys because "they are for boys". My brother had Star Wars sheets, action figures and even a garbage can. I was only allowed a school folder with Princess Leia on it. I cherished it and wouldn't use it for school and instead kept it pristine as it was all I had. A few years ago while at an opening night for the latest movie they gave out trading cards. I put them on my kitchen counter and few days later a friend came over, laughed, and asked what I was going to do with those. I said, "They are mine! I'm the fan! I get them!". I found I was even a little teary eyed about this.
I walked down the aisle at my wedding to the theme to Star Wars. I mist up when it comes on and the word crawl on the screen begins. This song, these movies, allow me a mental escape I rarely get. I see myself in the characters. Their fate feels important to me as if it's happening to me. If you're around me it can seem bizarre, as it's pretty opposite of the rest of my life, but it's my thing.
So when you see that person doing Harry Potter cosplay, painting their home the colors of their favorite sports team, collecting tea cups...know that this may be the one thing that gets them through a day. It may look odd to you, their exuberance may annoy you, but allow them this. We are all flying on a rock through space to our deaths. You can shut up your opinions for a second and give another their moment.
Looking back over my blog I found my post from October 2nd talking about what I'd do in my next 90 days. Before I even started to read it I thought, "Hell....I know I didn't do any of what I said I would." And that's true, as all the plans for waking up earlier, meditation, maybe even a little less wine/whine just didn't happen. One line stuck out for me though "I want something bigger though; I want to look at my choices, ideas, decisions and how I react to life. In short; I want to fully own my life."
Well it didn't go as planned; and when in life does it really go that way? But I actually did do as I wanted in a round about way. I stood up for myself in situations where I'd normally back down. I set difficult boundaries. I made painful choices when I saw the truth of the situation. I said Yes. I said No. I made mistakes but it was my life decisions. I fully owned my life.
My 90 days aren't through yet. In fact, I expect the next week to be my most painful this year. I want to hide. I want to sleep it away. I don't want to feel this. Yet it's all necessary. We try to drink, eat, drug, sex, shop and avoid what won't feel good. But do we ever actually not feel it? The pain is there even when we make attempts to buffer over it. Then if we're doing the hard work to get healthy we have to feel it all over again! Fuck. Best to feel it the first time, right? Rarely happens? True.
There may be objection to this statement (come at me therapists!) but I think not feeling is OK sometimes. It's survival. There are times I've had to say, "I fucking can't right now. Not now." Those moments when your body, mind and soul are too overloaded and to 'feel it' would crumble you. I'm still facing situations from many decades ago that I didn't have the strength to feel at the time. Do the work, push yourself, but allow a shit ton of space too.
So to finish out my 90 days I'm choosing me. It will look, feel and be as I choose. It may appear selfish. You may disagree. Either way I choose me.
One of my favorite quotes is from Ram Dass, "We are all just walking each other home." It always spoke to me of a release of religion, of basic kindness and caring, and that we're all in this together. Though I've had to ask a lot these past two years; how far do I have to walk?
I tend to be a person that put everyone else's needs and wants before my own. I compromise when I don't want to. I smile sweetly while seething inside. Hard to say how much of this is my personality or from social conditioning. It's not healthy. Ultimately I hit a breaking point, blow sky high and those around me to experience it come away dazed and confused as they never saw it coming. I don't recommend being like this.
It troubles me to no end when I know someone is sad, hurt or worse yet angry at me. Somehow my boundaries mean less than their feelings. I've had to ask myself frequently "Why don't my feelings count?", and I'm asking that of myself as I don't let them count.
Now if you've met me this all may come as a great shock to you. Upon first meeting me I've been told the following "You looked scary." "You seemed like someone that would pummel me in a back alley." "You clearly don't take any shit." I'm vocal and opinionated so it's assumed that I have boundaries like a mother fucker and would never allow an overstep. I'll about kill if I see another person being harmed yet typically hold back when it comes to my needs.
I've had multiple situations in the past few years, and some doozies recently, where people I believed to love me unconditionally left me. People I thought were my ride or die, people related by blood, people who said they'd always stand up for me. Yet they didn't stand up for me.They turned a blind eye when I was mistreated or were even part of the mistreatment. They got enraged when I had the courage to share a hard truth. They walked away from years and sometimes a lifetime.
So they decided they were walking no further with me. Maybe sometimes I chose to walk no further with them. I had to face horrible behavior I'd allowed for years. I had to face the reality of our relationship. I had to put myself first even when it hurt terribly.
It still hurts. I still panic at what happened; though some were recent and others longer ago. The thought comes, "Who is next?".
So how far do we have to walk? I suppose when respect is gone. When the pain becomes greater than the happiness. When you've cleaned your side of the street and they would rather have theirs a mess. When you fucking feel like it.
