There is a gentle snow falling outside and the Christmas lights glow warmly from the tree and through the window outside. As I sit here writing, It's a Wonderful Life is playing on the TV (I've discovered Vudu). I haven't written in the last few weeks. Too busy in my own head, worrying about the 'what ifs', and allowing myself to be stuck in the darker corners of myself. I made some feable attempts at masking the space I was in. I was dreading this holiday, thinking that I would be feeling sad and alone.
Yet, as the comes to a close, I am filled with a sense of peace. Over the last 36 hours, I have been continually reminded of how truly blessed I am. I have been welcomed into the homes of friends--as family. I was there as my long-time friend's father became engaged. Listened to the sound of hymns and celebrated the meaning of the holiday. I made my mother's day by having breakfast at my childhood home, the first Christmas I've spent at home in five years. My friend's two year old was upset when it was time for me to leave. Brought dinner to my brother. And was then invited into the home of more friends for dessert, who had wonderful news to share. Now, home for the night, I am sitting on the couch wearing my best friend's sweatshirt. The one she left for me, to remind me that I am not alone.
[You've been given a great gift George, a chance to see what the world would be like without you...]
This really is one of my favorite holiday films and this year, more than others, it seems to mirror even more closely to my own life.
For weeks, months even; I have questioned my faith--the existance of God in my life. I'd allowed myself to block His presence with my fear and doubt. The events of this holiday have provided the indisputable truth that He is very much at work in my life, having surrounded [literally and figuratively] me with people who love and support me, as I am, for who I am.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Reflections on a Sunday
As I lay in bed, coming down from the day, I am choosing to focus my attention on the sermon from this morning's service and the discussion I co-led at Youth Group. My morning started out with a conversation about dream interpretation, with the story of Joseph as the framework. Joseph and his coat of many colors (or sleeves) is likely one of my favorite stories of the old testament.
I'm not sure what exactly it is that draws me to this story, aside of course from having seen the Broadway musical starting Donny Osmond, while in the 7th grade...though, that isn't true--I think it's the dreams. It's Joseph's ability understand and interpret dreams. I had a lot of nightmares and recurrent dreams as a kid...there's one about being chased around the backyard by Alice from the Brady Bunch, unable to scream for help. Or being shot and subsequently paralyzed from the waist down...(Go ahead...analyze. I have.)
I have always been fascinated by dreams, the ramblings of the mind that never rests and the collective unconscious. I have a level of reverence for them as well, particularly in those instances in which they came true. In Joan's sermon today, she talked about being at our most vulnerable at night, though still responsible. We are responsible for our thoughts, our deeds--those done and for those we have left undone--and our dreams. As we sleep our defenses are down. The armor of the day comes off and we rest, at least a bit.
Joan also spoke of living in a state of childlike receptiveness and wonder. Opening ourselves up to new possibilities; being curious. In order to do this those, we again have to put down the armor and defenses learned in adulthood. There is again a level of vulnerability here...an openness, innocence. It makes me think of DBT's Participate. Children are not inherently self conscious. We make them that way. The concept of failure is also foreign to them. Until adults teach them. And without fear and self consciousness, jumping in with both feet is easy.
The last point that really stuck with me was, "as you pray, forgive...". I'm not sure I do either of these enough. I certainly do not pray, or talk to God with the frequency that I could. And perhaps it is because of this, along with my inability to participate, that I do not feel God's presence the way that I once did. Like the bell of Santa's sleigh in The Polar Express, that "rings for all who truly believe", my fear and inability to be receptive block His word.
More later.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Monday, November 14, 2011
redefining definition
Twice today I found myself in conversations with clients about the definition of family. In the first, I was assisting to expand the parameters and in the second, one of the clients said it best when she said, "there are two kinds of family, one that you are born into, and one that you create yourself." This is an idea with which I totally agree, but find that my belief is only one way.
I've created MY family. An eclectic mix of friends, with myself as the common thread--well and some basic core values--but I am struggling with the idea that I could also be incorporated into someone else's family. Intellectually it makes sense that it could happen--but accepting this as fact has become more difficult than I thought.
===
11/15/11
Everything is in flux. I am in the process of redefining myself--who I am, what I want, where I belong. At it is there that I am getting stuck. I feel like there are very few places that I do belong. [I would say there is no where--but a few of you might knock me upside the head] I am trying hard not to feel "in the way" or like a burden (I know I know...), but there is a debate going on inside my head. I am opting to participate, even though the opposition gets louder when I do. To do otherwise is just playing into the emotion mind and the gremlin--and she cannot have that much power.
The upcoming holidays are what is bringing this to the forefront, I went through this a few years ago when I first stopped talking to my parents, and now to a greater extent that Kate and I are no longer together. Where I "fit", trying not to impose, that sense of belonging are all in question. Granted, I am speaking to my parents again, but certainly not to a degree with which the notion of spending holidays with them is even a remote possibility.
I do fit though, I know this and get a little bit closer everyday to KNOWing this.
Jump in with both feet
Let go of self-consciousness
Let go of fear of failure.
I have a beatiful family and they all love me for who I am, not who I was or who I will be.
I've created MY family. An eclectic mix of friends, with myself as the common thread--well and some basic core values--but I am struggling with the idea that I could also be incorporated into someone else's family. Intellectually it makes sense that it could happen--but accepting this as fact has become more difficult than I thought.
===
11/15/11
Everything is in flux. I am in the process of redefining myself--who I am, what I want, where I belong. At it is there that I am getting stuck. I feel like there are very few places that I do belong. [I would say there is no where--but a few of you might knock me upside the head] I am trying hard not to feel "in the way" or like a burden (I know I know...), but there is a debate going on inside my head. I am opting to participate, even though the opposition gets louder when I do. To do otherwise is just playing into the emotion mind and the gremlin--and she cannot have that much power.
The upcoming holidays are what is bringing this to the forefront, I went through this a few years ago when I first stopped talking to my parents, and now to a greater extent that Kate and I are no longer together. Where I "fit", trying not to impose, that sense of belonging are all in question. Granted, I am speaking to my parents again, but certainly not to a degree with which the notion of spending holidays with them is even a remote possibility.
I do fit though, I know this and get a little bit closer everyday to KNOWing this.
Jump in with both feet
Let go of self-consciousness
Let go of fear of failure.
I have a beatiful family and they all love me for who I am, not who I was or who I will be.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
trying to feel my feet on the floor
Feeling totally disregulated. Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down. Some of which was of my own doing, the rest I had no control over. Six months ago, if you had asked me where my life was headed, I would have said I knew exactly where I was going and how I was getting there. Now, I know nothing. Or at least that is how it feels. My head is spinning. Everything I thought was safe, sacred even, has revealed otherwise.
Relationship.
Over. Now a mutually agreed upon decision, but it didn't start out that way. It was my call. I threw in the towel. Neither of us were happy and it was unhealthy. But I am stuck at the idea of starting over. The insecurities have reared their ugly heads again. I was content with the notion that I would never have to date or be alone again. Even if it meant sacrificing a few things. Do I regret the decision to leave? No. We are both better for it. But the prospect is unnerving. I don't like change and there has been an awful lot lately.
Home.
Strained. The house has been something of a war zone for the last few months. Because of things going on in the relationship, I did not feel safe being here. In fact, I avoided being home as much as possible. And now when I am home, it is still hard. I am on guard. Ready for a fight, the need to defend myself or my actions. When alone my head takes off...so, I try to stay busy. But in doing this, I never feel rested and run down.
Work.
Vulnerable. This had been my safe place, for months while things were crumbling around me--this was where I felt a sense of confidence and security. Like I knew which end was up. Not so much anymore. Still fighting the urge to withdraw and retreat into comfort of my office--make my numbers and get out at the end of the day. For the most part, people are genuine with their concern, but still I'm hyper vigilant. Wary of the intentions of others, mistrusting, betrayed. Except for with a few.
Church.
Empty. I went on Sunday for the first time in a few weeks. So many questions from others about where 'my other half' was...people saying that they've missed us, me. Church was something we did together. Even though it was initially my idea to start going again, we are seen as a package deal. Sitting in the pew, I tried to stay focused on the readings, the sermon, being mindful of the presence of God. But, I felt nothing. Numb almost. I've thought about trying the earlier service...avoiding the majority of the questions...but that will do little for the emptiness.
There are few places/people where I feel connected these days. Overwhelmed, and trying hard to not burden people with my stuff. I know I am withdrawn. Blah. I fight it most days, but sometimes as I try to burn the candle at both ends, you get burned.
Relationship.
Over. Now a mutually agreed upon decision, but it didn't start out that way. It was my call. I threw in the towel. Neither of us were happy and it was unhealthy. But I am stuck at the idea of starting over. The insecurities have reared their ugly heads again. I was content with the notion that I would never have to date or be alone again. Even if it meant sacrificing a few things. Do I regret the decision to leave? No. We are both better for it. But the prospect is unnerving. I don't like change and there has been an awful lot lately.
Home.
Strained. The house has been something of a war zone for the last few months. Because of things going on in the relationship, I did not feel safe being here. In fact, I avoided being home as much as possible. And now when I am home, it is still hard. I am on guard. Ready for a fight, the need to defend myself or my actions. When alone my head takes off...so, I try to stay busy. But in doing this, I never feel rested and run down.
Work.
Vulnerable. This had been my safe place, for months while things were crumbling around me--this was where I felt a sense of confidence and security. Like I knew which end was up. Not so much anymore. Still fighting the urge to withdraw and retreat into comfort of my office--make my numbers and get out at the end of the day. For the most part, people are genuine with their concern, but still I'm hyper vigilant. Wary of the intentions of others, mistrusting, betrayed. Except for with a few.
Church.
Empty. I went on Sunday for the first time in a few weeks. So many questions from others about where 'my other half' was...people saying that they've missed us, me. Church was something we did together. Even though it was initially my idea to start going again, we are seen as a package deal. Sitting in the pew, I tried to stay focused on the readings, the sermon, being mindful of the presence of God. But, I felt nothing. Numb almost. I've thought about trying the earlier service...avoiding the majority of the questions...but that will do little for the emptiness.
There are few places/people where I feel connected these days. Overwhelmed, and trying hard to not burden people with my stuff. I know I am withdrawn. Blah. I fight it most days, but sometimes as I try to burn the candle at both ends, you get burned.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
I am in a good place. Despite the events of the last month, I am okay. There has been something of a roller coaster of emotion, but fortunately I have some amazing people around me as support. I have learned a lot about people and myself--hidden strengths as well as true character of others. There are moments when I think to myself..."I never thought I'd be here" or then again, "should have known this would happen". Yet, I still feel grounded enough in my decisions to have little regret.
I am being purposeful in staying connected. It would be too easy to withdraw. And I know if I did that, the fortress that would surround me at my core would be nearly impenetrable. This is not acceptable. For the most part though, even the urge to do that is less frequent than I would have imagined. I think due, in part, to the work I have done but also the quality of people I have around me.
Granted, there are certainly times where the ego gets the better of me--running with my fears of rejection, abandonment, etc but it is during those times where I truly have to practice what I preach.
More later...finally tired.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
I am being purposeful in staying connected. It would be too easy to withdraw. And I know if I did that, the fortress that would surround me at my core would be nearly impenetrable. This is not acceptable. For the most part though, even the urge to do that is less frequent than I would have imagined. I think due, in part, to the work I have done but also the quality of people I have around me.
Granted, there are certainly times where the ego gets the better of me--running with my fears of rejection, abandonment, etc but it is during those times where I truly have to practice what I preach.
More later...finally tired.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Saturday, September 24, 2011
.thinking.
I like walking in the rain. It allows me to practice mindfulness. Right now I am thinking about expectations, ideals--I've been told that mine are too high. That what I am looking for isn't realistic.
Perhaps.
But does that mean I should stop asking for these things? Feels like settling. I don't know if I am ready to do that. These are the same things I expect of myself, granted I am not always perfect either...but they are things I strive for.
I am working toward nonjudgment and acceptance. Not "stringing along until something better comes along". And there has been progress.
More later.
Perhaps.
But does that mean I should stop asking for these things? Feels like settling. I don't know if I am ready to do that. These are the same things I expect of myself, granted I am not always perfect either...but they are things I strive for.
I am working toward nonjudgment and acceptance. Not "stringing along until something better comes along". And there has been progress.
More later.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
I do this.
I write in spurts. I can come up with a hundred excuses for why this is, but none would matter as much as this...sometimes I don't know what to say. There is a flaw in this argument though, my mind rarely stops. In fact, sometimes it is going so fast everything seems like a blur, or appears that there is nothing. Because really, there are all of the things I leave out. The words left unsaid, because I have decided that they are not as valuable or worth the trouble to speak. My friend Karen did a painting once, a self portrait with mouth sewn shut--I feel that way sometimes.
Just reread my last post 8/10/11. In some ways, I am experiencing the same feeling--wanting to scream, but feeling like no words would come out. As a kid, I had nightmares about that...I was always being chased by the housekeeper from the Brady bunch throughout my backyard--I was trapped, I would scream for help, but no sound...analyze that one, huh?
I was driving home today, texting with my priest and I looked up from the phone at one point and thought, "I don't feel God in my life". This saddened me. It was fleeting, I know He is there...in the work that I do, the people in my life, even in the dog. But, I remember as a child asking to go to church on Sunday morning. I was so strong in my faith. They thought I was going to be a nun (you can laugh, it's okay). But something happened. I was hardened somehow, more skeptical. I miss that innocence.
I miss a lot of things actually. I have been making a lot of changes in an effort to become more authentic to who I really am (assuming that I even know). But there are still things missing. Writing, photography, pottery--artistic outlets. I think that if I tapped into those more, I would not feel as though I am drowning all the time. "Drowning" sounds pretty negative, as though I am doing worse than I am. I am okay, moving toward good, but still--there is a void.
I am restless. Nothing new really...it's been my tag forever: rstlssdreamer. I do wonder sometimes if I will ever be satisfied. Will it ever be enough. It, me, anything...
Just reread my last post 8/10/11. In some ways, I am experiencing the same feeling--wanting to scream, but feeling like no words would come out. As a kid, I had nightmares about that...I was always being chased by the housekeeper from the Brady bunch throughout my backyard--I was trapped, I would scream for help, but no sound...analyze that one, huh?
I was driving home today, texting with my priest and I looked up from the phone at one point and thought, "I don't feel God in my life". This saddened me. It was fleeting, I know He is there...in the work that I do, the people in my life, even in the dog. But, I remember as a child asking to go to church on Sunday morning. I was so strong in my faith. They thought I was going to be a nun (you can laugh, it's okay). But something happened. I was hardened somehow, more skeptical. I miss that innocence.
I miss a lot of things actually. I have been making a lot of changes in an effort to become more authentic to who I really am (assuming that I even know). But there are still things missing. Writing, photography, pottery--artistic outlets. I think that if I tapped into those more, I would not feel as though I am drowning all the time. "Drowning" sounds pretty negative, as though I am doing worse than I am. I am okay, moving toward good, but still--there is a void.
I am restless. Nothing new really...it's been my tag forever: rstlssdreamer. I do wonder sometimes if I will ever be satisfied. Will it ever be enough. It, me, anything...
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
She said "it doesn't really matter pretty soon you're bound to spill it"
With the half logic language of the sermon she delivers
And the way she smiles so knowingly at me gives me the shivers
I pull the blankets higher when I'm finally safe at home
And she takes a hundred with her but she always sleeps alone
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands
--excerpt from The Girl with the Weight of the World in Her Hands
I was reminded of this song in group today. Mirrors how I am feeling today. Yesterday. This week. I am fighting with myself and the Egoic thinking. I can't seem to shake the feeling--the weight--I have the urge to write, but as I sit to do it, I find that my mind goes blank. But not really. The words just don't seem to come. I am stuck. There is part of me that wants to scream. Jump into an ice bath. Anything to feel something other than this. I need to wake up, throw the gremlin back into her cage and lose the key.
It's been a long time since I have felt like this, truth is part of me is scared that I won't be able to shake it off. Granted, I have experienced even greater darkness and have found the light again--but there is still fear. "Let's get real, Kate...you are going to be on meds for the rest of your life". This is who I am. Depressed. Anxious. Fearful. But this is not who I want to be. Not today...tomorrow...
"We are not built to lead with our emotions like you are...but that doesn't mean we don't have them"--The Adjustment Bureau, the movie that is on as I write this...about our lack of free will over the major decisions in our lives, because when we have that we destroy ourselves. If that, is in fact true I...you...have little control over what happens to us. Everything is as it should be. So, I should feel like this...have the experiences I am having right now. Radical acceptance right?
Saturday, August 6, 2011
numb
Last night I started a post about the masks we wear and different roles we play. I was talking about my middle school drama teacher telling me that if I wanted to pursue it, I had talent. If she only knew...
Tonight I feel numb. Truth is, I have felt that way a lot lately. I am very matter of fact and have been described as cold, detached. Really what it is, it responding without emotion. There have been a few times where it would have been totally appropriate to cry, where I'd even wanted to...and it's as though a switch is flipped, and nothing. Now, I know what you are thinking...fear. I know, I get it.
I said I no longer have expectations.
What do I want?
I need to come up with specifics.
Where to start?
How do you quantify emotion? Respect. Equality
Tables have turned? This I have heard more than once.
I've shut down. Tired and emotionally drained. I need a vacation from my life.
Tonight I feel numb. Truth is, I have felt that way a lot lately. I am very matter of fact and have been described as cold, detached. Really what it is, it responding without emotion. There have been a few times where it would have been totally appropriate to cry, where I'd even wanted to...and it's as though a switch is flipped, and nothing. Now, I know what you are thinking...fear. I know, I get it.
I said I no longer have expectations.
What do I want?
I need to come up with specifics.
Where to start?
How do you quantify emotion? Respect. Equality
Tables have turned? This I have heard more than once.
I've shut down. Tired and emotionally drained. I need a vacation from my life.
Monday, July 11, 2011
talking to God
I've had the urge to write for a few days now...probably longer. Just not the time or perhaps the proper space. Not positive tonight is much different, but the want is too great. Lots of random thoughts coming in and out, even as I write these words, my mind races. But, I am in a good space. Work is probably the most common inspiration these days, or what someone did to tick me off...which can also include work from time to time.
Today, what has brought me to the page is God (and work). In group, someone was talking about how prayer in the traditional sense does not work for her. "So, don't do it that way", I say without hesitation. And so, it begins...the race of thoughts about how do I pray, do I pray, what is the nature and quality of my relationship with God.
Enter the judgements about what my relationship "should" be, wishing He spoke to me, through me, the way he does others in my life (sometimes I think He is trying to tell me something--like knocking me upside the head).
If there is really no way of redemption and it is in fact, all but for the grace of God--here's to crossing my figures that the Catholics and religious fanatics were wrong! That I will be in His good graces come judgement day, despite who I love. Right now, I error on the side of caution...I will attempt to do his will, through my daily work, in hopes that it counts for something in the end. Despite the sins I have amassed in this life.
If I really think about it, God does speak to me--just somewhat indirectly. He speaks to me through the people he sends into my life, friends, family, even my clients. My ability to empathize and understand, to truly listen, are gifts which He has bestowed upon me. He is there in the "ah ha" moments, and the tears. He is behind the goosebumps and the powerful things that I come up with from time to time, that I have no idea where they came from.
Today, what has brought me to the page is God (and work). In group, someone was talking about how prayer in the traditional sense does not work for her. "So, don't do it that way", I say without hesitation. And so, it begins...the race of thoughts about how do I pray, do I pray, what is the nature and quality of my relationship with God.
Enter the judgements about what my relationship "should" be, wishing He spoke to me, through me, the way he does others in my life (sometimes I think He is trying to tell me something--like knocking me upside the head).
If there is really no way of redemption and it is in fact, all but for the grace of God--here's to crossing my figures that the Catholics and religious fanatics were wrong! That I will be in His good graces come judgement day, despite who I love. Right now, I error on the side of caution...I will attempt to do his will, through my daily work, in hopes that it counts for something in the end. Despite the sins I have amassed in this life.
If I really think about it, God does speak to me--just somewhat indirectly. He speaks to me through the people he sends into my life, friends, family, even my clients. My ability to empathize and understand, to truly listen, are gifts which He has bestowed upon me. He is there in the "ah ha" moments, and the tears. He is behind the goosebumps and the powerful things that I come up with from time to time, that I have no idea where they came from.
Monday, June 20, 2011
...inside the dark...
junior year, i remember my hs english teacher saying to me, "i have seen inside your head--it's dark in there--but its nothing like mine." i'll never forget it. he was something of a father figure to me. i sat in the back of the room in that class. i always liked it in the back--less attention.
i didn't do a fabulous job of using my skills today.
i felt myself slipping and didn't really do much about it. no time really, was sort of on overload. too many 'things' today. so the gremlins crept in, and i let them...with their judgments and shoulds in tow.
not good enough....
daughter
partner
friend
employee
i should...
make amends
be honest, expect less
not deserve anything good
be better at [insert negative here]
i know what i needed to do. but i didn't because i was being stubborn. my dear man was weak and my intensity did not meet my level of need--because i didn't want to be a burden. in a way, detaching in preparation for vacation.
there are benefits though of spending time inside my head. i do figure things out in there. i need to be better to myself. listen to my own advise (so good at giving it--not so much at taking it). forgive myself, like really.
truly participate.
let go of fear.
trust my wise mind.
practice radical acceptance.
learn to love myself.
i didn't do a fabulous job of using my skills today.
i felt myself slipping and didn't really do much about it. no time really, was sort of on overload. too many 'things' today. so the gremlins crept in, and i let them...with their judgments and shoulds in tow.
not good enough....
daughter
partner
friend
employee
i should...
make amends
be honest, expect less
not deserve anything good
be better at [insert negative here]
i know what i needed to do. but i didn't because i was being stubborn. my dear man was weak and my intensity did not meet my level of need--because i didn't want to be a burden. in a way, detaching in preparation for vacation.
there are benefits though of spending time inside my head. i do figure things out in there. i need to be better to myself. listen to my own advise (so good at giving it--not so much at taking it). forgive myself, like really.
truly participate.
let go of fear.
trust my wise mind.
practice radical acceptance.
learn to love myself.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Creating a life worth living...
I am learning to practice what I preach.
I am learning as much from my DBT group, as they are from me.
I am good with this.
I asked of one group: what do you need to do to create a life worth living? This generated good discussion, but also got my wheels turning...
I am a bit reflective as of late...I have a birthday coming up...so the questions about what I have accomplished over the last year are swirling around in my head. Spending time with Jen last weekend we were talking about the goals we'd set for ourselves to accomplish by 30ish. Career, home, independence from parents--few lose ends to tie up...both thought we'd be married, families on the way...but all in all doing alright.
But does this constitute a life worth living? As I think about this question, I am thinking less about the items I can check off my list, the material things. And more about the relationships--the people in my life, and even those who no longer are.
When we're young...we have our friends forever, the friendship bracelets, the charm necklaces, etc. But these relationships fade. Some remain, but not to the degree or with the same meaning as before. You become more like acquaintances. See each other maybe a few times a year....Few of the relationships from childhood can withstand the ebbs and flows of growing up.
But, then there are the relationships we form as adults. Once the growing pains have gone away and all that is left is the truth. These, for me, are what create a life worth living. It's the people, not the things, that I have in my life, that provide meaning and comfort. Purpose.
I am learning as much from my DBT group, as they are from me.
I am good with this.
I asked of one group: what do you need to do to create a life worth living? This generated good discussion, but also got my wheels turning...
I am a bit reflective as of late...I have a birthday coming up...so the questions about what I have accomplished over the last year are swirling around in my head. Spending time with Jen last weekend we were talking about the goals we'd set for ourselves to accomplish by 30ish. Career, home, independence from parents--few lose ends to tie up...both thought we'd be married, families on the way...but all in all doing alright.
But does this constitute a life worth living? As I think about this question, I am thinking less about the items I can check off my list, the material things. And more about the relationships--the people in my life, and even those who no longer are.
When we're young...we have our friends forever, the friendship bracelets, the charm necklaces, etc. But these relationships fade. Some remain, but not to the degree or with the same meaning as before. You become more like acquaintances. See each other maybe a few times a year....Few of the relationships from childhood can withstand the ebbs and flows of growing up.
But, then there are the relationships we form as adults. Once the growing pains have gone away and all that is left is the truth. These, for me, are what create a life worth living. It's the people, not the things, that I have in my life, that provide meaning and comfort. Purpose.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
well that was unexpected
In session today, Paula turns to me and says, "So, Kate...how do you really feel about the relationship with your parents?" From there, came a series of questions, I do not necessarily have answers to. What am I afraid of? What do I feel that I owe them? What do I miss? What do I not like?
Truth. I have no idea. Talked about the lies, the materialism, forgiveness--of self and them, acceptance. But, are these answers? Not really. Crazy as it is, I can empathize with them. I understand why they did what they did. In fact, I feel badly for them--the sadness of the existence which must have caused them to act the way they did--the lack of authenticity. I need to be mindful of judgement here...I could easily slip into it--but they are who they are--which is what ended the conversation with. Where I am now, is figuring out how to accept these things about them, that I find less desirable because they are not characteristics or behaviors to which I subscribe.
I worry that I will be angry again. I am not angry now. What's done is done, but quickly I feel myself responding emotionally to the random texts, drive-bys (theirs and my own), and chance moments during conversation with others regarding their own parents. But the emotion is not anger. Describe: anxiety--fear of unknown, sadness (?), loss. Progress, I suppose. There is guilt too, flashes of jealousy--towards the people with healthier relationships with their parents. The guilt--well that is two-fold (though equally unjustified), for walking away and for not being good enough...not being the daughter they wanted me to be. I am also afraid that I will not be strong enough in my convictions to uphold the boundaries and skills I have been working so hard to establish.
Why would I falter? Obligation, wanting to please, fear of disappointment--of them, I don't matter. Gremlin, I know....just go with it. The fact that they have disappointment me, holds far less weight, then the fear of "not being good enough"--> not being accepted....er wait, that has already happened.
What do I owe them? Interesting question...there is part of me that says absolutely nothing. And there is this other side, that says...but they are your parents, they raised you. But, what price does that carry? Is that a debt that is ever repayed? They gave me life, but a greater power gave me free will, and a conscious-->that is what I listen to now.
There are more thoughts rolling around that will be processed at another time, in another forum. Bed now.
Truth. I have no idea. Talked about the lies, the materialism, forgiveness--of self and them, acceptance. But, are these answers? Not really. Crazy as it is, I can empathize with them. I understand why they did what they did. In fact, I feel badly for them--the sadness of the existence which must have caused them to act the way they did--the lack of authenticity. I need to be mindful of judgement here...I could easily slip into it--but they are who they are--which is what ended the conversation with. Where I am now, is figuring out how to accept these things about them, that I find less desirable because they are not characteristics or behaviors to which I subscribe.
I worry that I will be angry again. I am not angry now. What's done is done, but quickly I feel myself responding emotionally to the random texts, drive-bys (theirs and my own), and chance moments during conversation with others regarding their own parents. But the emotion is not anger. Describe: anxiety--fear of unknown, sadness (?), loss. Progress, I suppose. There is guilt too, flashes of jealousy--towards the people with healthier relationships with their parents. The guilt--well that is two-fold (though equally unjustified), for walking away and for not being good enough...not being the daughter they wanted me to be. I am also afraid that I will not be strong enough in my convictions to uphold the boundaries and skills I have been working so hard to establish.
Why would I falter? Obligation, wanting to please, fear of disappointment--of them, I don't matter. Gremlin, I know....just go with it. The fact that they have disappointment me, holds far less weight, then the fear of "not being good enough"--> not being accepted....er wait, that has already happened.
What do I owe them? Interesting question...there is part of me that says absolutely nothing. And there is this other side, that says...but they are your parents, they raised you. But, what price does that carry? Is that a debt that is ever repayed? They gave me life, but a greater power gave me free will, and a conscious-->that is what I listen to now.
There are more thoughts rolling around that will be processed at another time, in another forum. Bed now.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
glimmer of hope
I was in the self-checkout at the grocery store, when I overheard a man talking to the woman at the station in front of me about "a z-cut...some thing they do for people with CP". I excused myself for overhearing, but then told the man that I myself had had that procedure done when I was a child. The man, whom I had never met, informed me that he and his wife had just learned that their 4yo daughter was going to need the same procedure, for the same form of CP as I am diagnosed with.
The man, Patrick, thanked me multiple times for talking with him as he asked questions about what I had gone through and I listened to what his daughter, their 3rd of 4 children, was experiencing. He said, after they had received the diagnosis, he and his wife, had gone to the mall to people-watch in hopes of seeing someone who walked they way their daughter did. He said they had never met anyone with CP before.
I spent about 20 mins with the man, in the self-scan at Hannafords. I gave him hope. All because I'd overheard two strangers.
A similar thing happened at church two weeks ago. A young couple was there with their son, likely to also receive the diagnosis, but doctors say it is too early to really tell. I had a similar conversation with them, as I did with the man in the supermarket. Another instance of one stranger helping another.
In both instances, I acknowlegded the barriers, mostly internal, that I have with maintaining my overall health. The issue goes deeper than that though. I seem to be in an odd place right now. I am writing a lot about my CP...there is some sort of internal struggle that I haven't been able to wrap my head around. Perhaps it's because I am having difficulty getting around in ways that previously I had not...at least not for a while. I wonder too how much Kate's participation in derby, something I cannot nor will I be able to engage in fully with her. This is a first for me...something that I cannot seem to find a way around or adapt in a way that it can still be effective. Regardless of what it is...I need to get my head on straight. Perhaps these two instances were a message that it is time to get serious and make the necessary changes.
The man, Patrick, thanked me multiple times for talking with him as he asked questions about what I had gone through and I listened to what his daughter, their 3rd of 4 children, was experiencing. He said, after they had received the diagnosis, he and his wife, had gone to the mall to people-watch in hopes of seeing someone who walked they way their daughter did. He said they had never met anyone with CP before.
I spent about 20 mins with the man, in the self-scan at Hannafords. I gave him hope. All because I'd overheard two strangers.
A similar thing happened at church two weeks ago. A young couple was there with their son, likely to also receive the diagnosis, but doctors say it is too early to really tell. I had a similar conversation with them, as I did with the man in the supermarket. Another instance of one stranger helping another.
In both instances, I acknowlegded the barriers, mostly internal, that I have with maintaining my overall health. The issue goes deeper than that though. I seem to be in an odd place right now. I am writing a lot about my CP...there is some sort of internal struggle that I haven't been able to wrap my head around. Perhaps it's because I am having difficulty getting around in ways that previously I had not...at least not for a while. I wonder too how much Kate's participation in derby, something I cannot nor will I be able to engage in fully with her. This is a first for me...something that I cannot seem to find a way around or adapt in a way that it can still be effective. Regardless of what it is...I need to get my head on straight. Perhaps these two instances were a message that it is time to get serious and make the necessary changes.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Working towards the solution
Friedman says at the core of all is unforgiveness. I can see that...looking at the core issues of myself and those closest to me...lack of forgiveness is certainly in the general vicinity. In chapter three he asks that we list our grievances and attack thoughts, in a effort to make these conscience. So, here goes:
1. The people you live with...
I get upset because I feel that I am not understoodd emotionally. Or why I am I am the way I am--no matter how many times I try to explain it. Says I am too rigid. Too scheduled. I lash out because
I expect that after this amount of time, there would be a level of acceptance. I need order, it's my way of controlling what parts of my life I feel like I can. And the piles drive me crazy. So does being late for everything--both of these I know I get from childhood. Our house was immaculate and my dad made us 30mins late for everything. I know this and am working on it. But I need more patience, more understanding...
2. Someone I work with....
I love my job. But I don't love complacency. I want the people I work with to work as hard as I do, don't just be there for the pay check. I hate the office drama and have started to pull further and further away from those who create it. I don't do clicks and I can do without the rumor mill. I am not a caddy girl. As for my clients, many are great, but others I want to knock up side the head and say, "seriously?!". I have little sympathy for self-pity and laziness.
3. My parents, brother...
I am angry at my parents' materialism. Their need for possessions, for having been bought when things went wrong. For my mother's passivity and yet manipulation and my father's anger and his own resentment. For his addiction, my mother's enabling, and the impact these things had on my life and that of my brother's. For not ever being enough, even though I "could be anything I want".
To my brother for getting away with the things I never could, because he is younger, a boy, and my mother's favorite.
4. Towards myself...
For never feeling good enough. For being "too nice". I need to take better care of my CP, but I don't. My ah-ha moment recently was a lack of acceptance, almost back to denial. If I ignore it, nothing is actually wrong--and I won't have to deal with this for the rest of my life. For listening to my gremlin, even when I know I shouldn't--for not getting out of my own way. I also hold back...I am not always honest with my thoughts and feelings, for fear of judgment and rejection. Lack of authenticity. For compromising that authenticity for the sake of others. For losing sight of myself and my values, my wants and needs.
5. Religious group, nationality, cultural community, etc...
I had to think about this one for a bit before coming up with anything. First, I thought I didn't have anything, but then--The Catholic Church. For reaffirming the negative beliefs I already held about myself...the guilt, shame, rejection. For being so narrow minded in your doctrine, your lack of acceptance of God's creation.
6. And now for God...
God and I have had words on more than one occasion. I wish my faith was stronger, more unwavering. That I had trust in you, the way I "should". I know that it is no coincidence that my two closest friends have tremendous faith...trying to tell me something, I get it. I want answers to questions that can probably not be answered in this lifetime. And I have to learn to be okay with that. My hand is what it is, and I have to play it through...no sense in being angry about it. The challenges I have faced, make me stronger, I do know this...but sometimes I just want to throw my hands up and scream, "WTF?!". But, this is getting fewer and far between...
1. The people you live with...
I get upset because I feel that I am not understoodd emotionally. Or why I am I am the way I am--no matter how many times I try to explain it. Says I am too rigid. Too scheduled. I lash out because
I expect that after this amount of time, there would be a level of acceptance. I need order, it's my way of controlling what parts of my life I feel like I can. And the piles drive me crazy. So does being late for everything--both of these I know I get from childhood. Our house was immaculate and my dad made us 30mins late for everything. I know this and am working on it. But I need more patience, more understanding...
2. Someone I work with....
I love my job. But I don't love complacency. I want the people I work with to work as hard as I do, don't just be there for the pay check. I hate the office drama and have started to pull further and further away from those who create it. I don't do clicks and I can do without the rumor mill. I am not a caddy girl. As for my clients, many are great, but others I want to knock up side the head and say, "seriously?!". I have little sympathy for self-pity and laziness.
3. My parents, brother...
I am angry at my parents' materialism. Their need for possessions, for having been bought when things went wrong. For my mother's passivity and yet manipulation and my father's anger and his own resentment. For his addiction, my mother's enabling, and the impact these things had on my life and that of my brother's. For not ever being enough, even though I "could be anything I want".
To my brother for getting away with the things I never could, because he is younger, a boy, and my mother's favorite.
4. Towards myself...
For never feeling good enough. For being "too nice". I need to take better care of my CP, but I don't. My ah-ha moment recently was a lack of acceptance, almost back to denial. If I ignore it, nothing is actually wrong--and I won't have to deal with this for the rest of my life. For listening to my gremlin, even when I know I shouldn't--for not getting out of my own way. I also hold back...I am not always honest with my thoughts and feelings, for fear of judgment and rejection. Lack of authenticity. For compromising that authenticity for the sake of others. For losing sight of myself and my values, my wants and needs.
5. Religious group, nationality, cultural community, etc...
I had to think about this one for a bit before coming up with anything. First, I thought I didn't have anything, but then--The Catholic Church. For reaffirming the negative beliefs I already held about myself...the guilt, shame, rejection. For being so narrow minded in your doctrine, your lack of acceptance of God's creation.
6. And now for God...
God and I have had words on more than one occasion. I wish my faith was stronger, more unwavering. That I had trust in you, the way I "should". I know that it is no coincidence that my two closest friends have tremendous faith...trying to tell me something, I get it. I want answers to questions that can probably not be answered in this lifetime. And I have to learn to be okay with that. My hand is what it is, and I have to play it through...no sense in being angry about it. The challenges I have faced, make me stronger, I do know this...but sometimes I just want to throw my hands up and scream, "WTF?!". But, this is getting fewer and far between...
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Staring at a blank screen
Sometimes I sit down to write, but then the words don't come. There are things I want to say, perhaps need to say; but I can't--won't, don't know how. I am tired, waiting for Kate to get home from derby. Filled with this heavy sort of feeling.
"you in your head again?"
"a bit"
"be careful in there..."
Truth. Never really been very good about getting out.
Sometimes being in there isn't bad, others it is very dangerous. I figure things out that way, but I also fall susceptible to the gremlin, if not careful.
Thursdays are interesting days for me. The two groups I lead on those days always get the wheels turning. In the morning I was talking about the roles we play and how often we act different ways based on the roles we play. We discussed how this isn't always healthy, particularly if the roles are vastly different from who you truly are. I encourage them to be authentic. To recognize that there is a time and place for everything, but that it is more about showing different sides of the whole, not creating or hiding oneself. Later I was talking about the intensity with which we ask for what we need and refuse the things we cannot do. Setting limits and having needs met. I am not good at either of these things. But am getting better as I continue this transformation. Today I was told, "it's about who you are, not the roles you play", by someone unaware of the earlier conversation, and then I practiced my skills. I asked for something I needed. And it was well received.
Suddenly the screen isn't so blank.
As I become more assertive, more authentic, there are some regrets. But with these, I am trying to acknowledge and move on. No point in dwelling on them...won't change anything. Best I can do is make an agreement with myself that I will try not to allow these things to happen again. It is in these regrets, that the forgiveness comes in. For the other person, but also myself. What are the expectations, mine, theirs, societal?
"you in your head again?"
"a bit"
"be careful in there..."
Truth. Never really been very good about getting out.
Sometimes being in there isn't bad, others it is very dangerous. I figure things out that way, but I also fall susceptible to the gremlin, if not careful.
Thursdays are interesting days for me. The two groups I lead on those days always get the wheels turning. In the morning I was talking about the roles we play and how often we act different ways based on the roles we play. We discussed how this isn't always healthy, particularly if the roles are vastly different from who you truly are. I encourage them to be authentic. To recognize that there is a time and place for everything, but that it is more about showing different sides of the whole, not creating or hiding oneself. Later I was talking about the intensity with which we ask for what we need and refuse the things we cannot do. Setting limits and having needs met. I am not good at either of these things. But am getting better as I continue this transformation. Today I was told, "it's about who you are, not the roles you play", by someone unaware of the earlier conversation, and then I practiced my skills. I asked for something I needed. And it was well received.
Suddenly the screen isn't so blank.
As I become more assertive, more authentic, there are some regrets. But with these, I am trying to acknowledge and move on. No point in dwelling on them...won't change anything. Best I can do is make an agreement with myself that I will try not to allow these things to happen again. It is in these regrets, that the forgiveness comes in. For the other person, but also myself. What are the expectations, mine, theirs, societal?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
At the core of the matter
My best friend gave me this book to read, The Forgiveness Solution. The intent was two pronged I believe...
1. I said I wanted to do a group on forgiveness
2. I have some work to do
the risks of having a psychologist for a best friend
you have to look at your shit.
There are exercises in the book, some of which I will do here...others, will likely be saved for another location, if written down at all. Before I start on the exercises...I must first state that I have been in my head quite a bit over the last few weeks and not really talking about it. Wonder Woman complex meets guilt and fear of being a burden. I'm looking at my core. I know what's there. I am tiptoeing around it...but even as I look at it, there is judgement. My issue at the core is not as important or big as others, I should just get over it. Embarrassment at the triteness of it compared to what I imagine others to be. Talk about invalidating huh? My core issue is not as important as yours....seriously, WTF. I'll come back to this...
Exercise 1: Who did something in the past year that hurt or harmed you?
CB. I've done some work around this one already. This individual made work difficult, to say the least. Through her actions and words (partially because of her own stuff), I would leave her presence feeling totally inadequate and incompetent. I began to question my ability to do the things I believe I was put here to do. This caused tremendous anxiety and self-doubt, I began to avoid this person, I shut down, questioned everything. Likely more on this later...goes to core.
Exercise 2: Earlier in Life
HG. Loaded situation here. I needed her to be something she couldn't be. I felt betrayed by her. She told my parents--no, my dad. I trusted her, and she pushed me away. Mostly to protect herself I suspect. This was in a time where I had my biological family, and the family I created at school. I had a fatherly figure, and two mothers...her I saw as a big sister. But, unlike the others, she was not comfortable with her role. She taught me a lesson. It still bothers me how that ended and that she might have negative feelings towards me. I've made amends in some ways. As much as I can.
Exercise 3: Yourself
There is a lot here too. We will go with the weight. I am angry with myself for gaining the weight back. For not taking care of myself, for not getting it off. I am working on this, Radical Acceptance. I know the anger is not effective, it only adds fuel to the fire. But it is there. The weight doesn't help the self-esteem, the walking, or overall health. I know what I need to do to get it off, but it's getting off my ass to actually do something about it. The longer it stays, the harder it gets. Stress doesn't help...I'm an emotional eater. After counseling tonight...took everything I had to NOT go through a drive threw.... Vicious cycle really.
We hit on a core issue tonight in counseling. On the surface, it's "Kate doesn't like to talk about sex..." but what it really is, is all of the insecurities, the feelings of "less than", the body issues related to weight and CP, that feeling that people only stick around because they are waiting for something better to come along--and when it does, I will be alone. I don't find myself attractive, nor do I understand why others might...I pick apart everything. Told Kate that I wished I looked more like one of her derby teammates. When I think of myself, the CP isn't in the ideal. I don't see the CP...but the reality is, it is there...labeled, less than. Kate asked in therapy if I lost all the weight again, would that be enough...I'm not sure really, a band aid perhaps--in comes the forgiveness. The letting go...the moving on.
1. I said I wanted to do a group on forgiveness
2. I have some work to do
There are exercises in the book, some of which I will do here...others, will likely be saved for another location, if written down at all. Before I start on the exercises...I must first state that I have been in my head quite a bit over the last few weeks and not really talking about it. Wonder Woman complex meets guilt and fear of being a burden. I'm looking at my core. I know what's there. I am tiptoeing around it...but even as I look at it, there is judgement. My issue at the core is not as important or big as others, I should just get over it. Embarrassment at the triteness of it compared to what I imagine others to be. Talk about invalidating huh? My core issue is not as important as yours....seriously, WTF. I'll come back to this...
Exercise 1: Who did something in the past year that hurt or harmed you?
CB. I've done some work around this one already. This individual made work difficult, to say the least. Through her actions and words (partially because of her own stuff), I would leave her presence feeling totally inadequate and incompetent. I began to question my ability to do the things I believe I was put here to do. This caused tremendous anxiety and self-doubt, I began to avoid this person, I shut down, questioned everything. Likely more on this later...goes to core.
Exercise 2: Earlier in Life
HG. Loaded situation here. I needed her to be something she couldn't be. I felt betrayed by her. She told my parents--no, my dad. I trusted her, and she pushed me away. Mostly to protect herself I suspect. This was in a time where I had my biological family, and the family I created at school. I had a fatherly figure, and two mothers...her I saw as a big sister. But, unlike the others, she was not comfortable with her role. She taught me a lesson. It still bothers me how that ended and that she might have negative feelings towards me. I've made amends in some ways. As much as I can.
Exercise 3: Yourself
There is a lot here too. We will go with the weight. I am angry with myself for gaining the weight back. For not taking care of myself, for not getting it off. I am working on this, Radical Acceptance. I know the anger is not effective, it only adds fuel to the fire. But it is there. The weight doesn't help the self-esteem, the walking, or overall health. I know what I need to do to get it off, but it's getting off my ass to actually do something about it. The longer it stays, the harder it gets. Stress doesn't help...I'm an emotional eater. After counseling tonight...took everything I had to NOT go through a drive threw.... Vicious cycle really.
We hit on a core issue tonight in counseling. On the surface, it's "Kate doesn't like to talk about sex..." but what it really is, is all of the insecurities, the feelings of "less than", the body issues related to weight and CP, that feeling that people only stick around because they are waiting for something better to come along--and when it does, I will be alone. I don't find myself attractive, nor do I understand why others might...I pick apart everything. Told Kate that I wished I looked more like one of her derby teammates. When I think of myself, the CP isn't in the ideal. I don't see the CP...but the reality is, it is there...labeled, less than. Kate asked in therapy if I lost all the weight again, would that be enough...I'm not sure really, a band aid perhaps--in comes the forgiveness. The letting go...the moving on.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Hide
To anyone who holds their pain inside
To anyone who thinks they're not good enough
To anyone who feels unworthy of love
To anyone who ever closed the door
Closed their eyes and locked themselves away
You don't have to hide
You don't have to hide anymore
You don't have to face this on your own
You don't have to hide anymore
So come out, come out, come out wherever you are
To anyone who's tryin' to cover up their scars
To anyone who's ever made a big mistake
We've all been there, so don't be ashamed
Come out, come out and join the rest of us
You've been alone for way too long
And if you feel like no one understands
Come to the One with scars on His hands
'Cause He knows where you are, where you've been
His scars will heal you if you let Him
=====
Never would have pegged myself for a Christian music girl...though, I probably said the same thing about country at one point in my life. Nevertheless, this song has been on repeat in my CD player for about the last week. God and I have really had a parent-child relationship--you know as in those ugly adolescent years--full of angst and blame--I rebelled, pushed back against His constant love. Still sometimes, I feel his presence is not as strong as it once ways. But I know that its more about my inability to be open to Him than it is His not wanting to be there.
The first verse is as though it were written with me in mind, or at least how I feel. I've locked myself away for years at a time; shutting myself off from letting anyone get too close. Afraid of being discovered, for what I believed I truly was. Even now, I feel myself more distant, from God, from family, from friends--more detached. I don't ask for help and when I do, I feel like a burden. Right now, I feel like a burden. I've been asking for help, needed for sure, but having difficulty shaking off the feelings. As result, more in my head--reaching out, but limitedly (pretty much just made up a word there).
Deep down I know I don't have to go it all alone. I've got people--He sent in some heavy artillery, to remind me. But I am stubborn. My Daddy taught me well--rely on no one, trust no one, don't let anyone get too close; you will get burned. I am fighting the Action Urge daily these days, to retreat into my dark little corner of the world, walls up, mask on. So, I have this song on repeat--stay connected, walls down, trusting. Daddy doesn't always know best.
I cannot go it alone anymore.
I am good enough.
I am worthy of love.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Shades of Gray
I am not an all or nothing type person. I may have been when I was younger. But at this point in my life (listened to that song this morning--SO applicable), not only do I see and appreciate the gray, but need it. Life is not black and white because people are not black and white. We often say one thing, and do another. Not out of any ill will, but more I think from a place of wisdom; once the emotion has subsided and reason can weigh in.
Trust. What does this mean? I will not bore you with an actual definition, but more mine. For me this word--is more of a feeling. How much of myself, my authentic self, do I put in the hands of another. I have people in my life, whom I trust implicitly, because they get me, there are those I do not trust much at all, and then there are all of those in between. Once trust is broken, it is hard to recover, it must be earned --but I believe in second chances. I would want a second chance if it were me...gray. So, when boxed into a corner, I default to "I don't know", because well...I don't. As I said, its about a feeling, not fact. I have been wrong before, will likely happen again, but that does not mean that it should not happen either--because I could be wrong.
Gain. What do I hope to gain from relationships? Sounds so materialistic and self-serving. I give a lot in relationships with others. This allows me to connect with people because I am present with them, not looking for how I will profit, or worse lose. Life doesn't happen on Wall St. Part of what I "gain" is the relationship itself, the connection with another person, no matter how static it may be. The level of static has a direct correlation with the amount of trust in the relationship. Do I know what to expect? What are the unknowns, the gray?
More later. Time to get ready for work.
Trust. What does this mean? I will not bore you with an actual definition, but more mine. For me this word--is more of a feeling. How much of myself, my authentic self, do I put in the hands of another. I have people in my life, whom I trust implicitly, because they get me, there are those I do not trust much at all, and then there are all of those in between. Once trust is broken, it is hard to recover, it must be earned --but I believe in second chances. I would want a second chance if it were me...gray. So, when boxed into a corner, I default to "I don't know", because well...I don't. As I said, its about a feeling, not fact. I have been wrong before, will likely happen again, but that does not mean that it should not happen either--because I could be wrong.
Gain. What do I hope to gain from relationships? Sounds so materialistic and self-serving. I give a lot in relationships with others. This allows me to connect with people because I am present with them, not looking for how I will profit, or worse lose. Life doesn't happen on Wall St. Part of what I "gain" is the relationship itself, the connection with another person, no matter how static it may be. The level of static has a direct correlation with the amount of trust in the relationship. Do I know what to expect? What are the unknowns, the gray?
More later. Time to get ready for work.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Knowing
Knowing looks and sideways glances
Entire conversations exchanged without a spoken word,
smiles flash across each face--meaning achieved.
A comfort found in silence, not typically held
yet a tension exists in moments of conflict--eyes unmet.
A want, no need--to go deeper, to be whole--
Shrouded in years of fear and failed expectations.
Knee-jerk reaction...pull away, retreat, hide.
False sense of safety in the dark corners of oneself;
Appears all too inviting, calling for a return home.
Yet, further we go out, into the light of the center of the room,
Vulnerable and timidly we stand, waiting for the pain to come again.
A truth that exists, an understanding--there is no going back.
There is accountability here, as the other stands watching, also healing.
Entire conversations exchanged without a spoken word,
smiles flash across each face--meaning achieved.
A comfort found in silence, not typically held
yet a tension exists in moments of conflict--eyes unmet.
A want, no need--to go deeper, to be whole--
Shrouded in years of fear and failed expectations.
Knee-jerk reaction...pull away, retreat, hide.
False sense of safety in the dark corners of oneself;
Appears all too inviting, calling for a return home.
Yet, further we go out, into the light of the center of the room,
Vulnerable and timidly we stand, waiting for the pain to come again.
A truth that exists, an understanding--there is no going back.
There is accountability here, as the other stands watching, also healing.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Looking in the mirror...
It's been a while since I have written. Now that means one of two things...either life has been fairly quiet or so full of chaos that I am overwhelmed and retreating into a hole. Hiding from the world, curled up in the darkness of my little corner. The latter is probably closer to the truth--however, still not entirely accurate. Things HAVE been crazy, overwhelming, and uncertain. But, I have done better this time at not shutting down and building up the walls. For the most part I have been moving forward, granted there has been resistance from a number of sides--including within--but old habits are hard to break.
I was running a group today and the topic of vanity was brought up in terms of make-up. "Putting on your face" as my mother would say. The women in the group echoed this sentiment. The message is clear, regardless of what is on the inside, conceal it with a bit of cover-up, eye shadow, and lipstick, and go on your way about the world. We discussed if it is a social construct, modeled by the feminine role models in our lives. Like mother, like daughter. However, I used myself as an example of how this is not always the case. They asked to see a picture of my mother. Proof. I obliged (I know...I know). The wheels were nonstop at this point. How are we different? Is that enough? What would it mean if I found that we were not as different as I would like to think? Honesty moment...I miss my mother sometimes. But, that is only natural. I still look for them in the grocery store, expecting to see one of them coming around the corner. Part of this, I know is because Mothers' Day is a month away--the stores tell me so.
Also, as Kate and I continue to make changes within our relationship, it makes me wonder about the relationship between my parents. Who wears the pants in that dynamic? What faces are they wearing? Can you really learn to let go of self-consciousness and let the world or even just one person, see you for who you really are? What if you don't like or know who that person in the mirror actually is? And if you can no longer recognize the reflection looking back at you?
Many of these are questions without answers. I am in the process of learning to like that person in the mirror, but in order to do this, I find myself making changes to reflection.
I see you standing there too.
I was running a group today and the topic of vanity was brought up in terms of make-up. "Putting on your face" as my mother would say. The women in the group echoed this sentiment. The message is clear, regardless of what is on the inside, conceal it with a bit of cover-up, eye shadow, and lipstick, and go on your way about the world. We discussed if it is a social construct, modeled by the feminine role models in our lives. Like mother, like daughter. However, I used myself as an example of how this is not always the case. They asked to see a picture of my mother. Proof. I obliged (I know...I know). The wheels were nonstop at this point. How are we different? Is that enough? What would it mean if I found that we were not as different as I would like to think? Honesty moment...I miss my mother sometimes. But, that is only natural. I still look for them in the grocery store, expecting to see one of them coming around the corner. Part of this, I know is because Mothers' Day is a month away--the stores tell me so.
Also, as Kate and I continue to make changes within our relationship, it makes me wonder about the relationship between my parents. Who wears the pants in that dynamic? What faces are they wearing? Can you really learn to let go of self-consciousness and let the world or even just one person, see you for who you really are? What if you don't like or know who that person in the mirror actually is? And if you can no longer recognize the reflection looking back at you?
Many of these are questions without answers. I am in the process of learning to like that person in the mirror, but in order to do this, I find myself making changes to reflection.
I see you standing there too.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Surreal
Kate and I were walking the rocks along the Australian coast today...and to get out to the place I wanted to go to take pictures, it involved walking along this narrow path--about 2ft wide between two salt water lap pools. I was good, until suddenly I felt this surge of anxiety that left me stuck in place. I ended up needing grasp Kate's hand to continue moving. Not sure what made me freeze...if I had fallen, I would have just landed in the pool on either side...
What really caught me, was the thoughts...they were about forgiveness. I started thinking about the situation with my parents, the need to forgive them for not being perfect, the need to forgive myself for the same. There has always been something about the ocean that has caused me pause. I said to Kate, it is as though I am standing at the edge of the world. You could look at it as though, there is no where to go but back, but I never do. As I stood there watching the waves crash upon the rocks, I was filled with a sense of calm. Peace.
More later.
What really caught me, was the thoughts...they were about forgiveness. I started thinking about the situation with my parents, the need to forgive them for not being perfect, the need to forgive myself for the same. There has always been something about the ocean that has caused me pause. I said to Kate, it is as though I am standing at the edge of the world. You could look at it as though, there is no where to go but back, but I never do. As I stood there watching the waves crash upon the rocks, I was filled with a sense of calm. Peace.
More later.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The 5th Agreement
So, I finally finished the fifth agreement today--part of me has been putting it off a bit lately. Can only take so much self-exploration and wandering around in the dark sometimes. Particularly because there are parts of the book that seem like they were written with me in mind. I made a few notes on it too. Things that really stuck out. Like what sort of language am I speaking...gossip, warrior, or truth. Probably warrior mostly. Stuck in the middle of the process of self-awareness. Further ahead than before. No longer placing total blame on others and taking a degree of responsibility for myself and the consequences of my actions.
Mostly what I have gotten from the book is the idea of letting go. Letting go of expectations, perfection...and being at peace with myself, and life as it is. Coincidentally (though probably not so much), these ideals also seem to relate to the concepts of mindfulness I have been teaching in DBT lately. Non-judgment, participation, observation, all things that come with becoming at peace with oneself.
Fortunately, I am not alone in this journey--spiraling into and out of my soul. They say that true friends are the ones that walk in as the rest of the world walks out. This has been my experience. Over and over in my life, I have quickly been able to identify those individuals who were meant to walk with me. Even if only for a short time. I am forever grateful for their company, support, love, and patience. The steady hands they extend when I fall, their willingness to brush me off, and keep me moving forward.
Onward we go.
Mostly what I have gotten from the book is the idea of letting go. Letting go of expectations, perfection...and being at peace with myself, and life as it is. Coincidentally (though probably not so much), these ideals also seem to relate to the concepts of mindfulness I have been teaching in DBT lately. Non-judgment, participation, observation, all things that come with becoming at peace with oneself.
Fortunately, I am not alone in this journey--spiraling into and out of my soul. They say that true friends are the ones that walk in as the rest of the world walks out. This has been my experience. Over and over in my life, I have quickly been able to identify those individuals who were meant to walk with me. Even if only for a short time. I am forever grateful for their company, support, love, and patience. The steady hands they extend when I fall, their willingness to brush me off, and keep me moving forward.
Onward we go.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
tired thoughts
I'm feeling pretty worn out this week. I think I'm still recovering from the PA trip. There's lots of things rolling around in my head, but I don't know if I can put them into words.
Trying to be mindful--
Sitting on the couch, TV on in the background. Lori and Kate are talking. I feel a bit anxious. Chest heavy. Legs are sore--ankles really. Knees. That makes me think of group tomorrow. Hopefully everyone comes. I am wanting to get into the groove with it. My leg just spasmed. Been doing that lately. I might be getting sick. Sometimes I cough and my throat is scratchy. Could be allergies, right?
It was good to spend time with Jen yesterday. Fill her in on things. Get some perspective, validation, support. Feel like I unloaded a bunch of shit on her. Still not feeling quite right about it...but she asked some good questions. Things I am still rolling around in my mind. Wants vs needs...what is realistic?
I'm irritated. They are being crass and filthy. Just not in the mood for it. They know it too...joking about it from the other room. What's my problem, why am I being weird?
Sigh.
Trying to be mindful--
Sitting on the couch, TV on in the background. Lori and Kate are talking. I feel a bit anxious. Chest heavy. Legs are sore--ankles really. Knees. That makes me think of group tomorrow. Hopefully everyone comes. I am wanting to get into the groove with it. My leg just spasmed. Been doing that lately. I might be getting sick. Sometimes I cough and my throat is scratchy. Could be allergies, right?
It was good to spend time with Jen yesterday. Fill her in on things. Get some perspective, validation, support. Feel like I unloaded a bunch of shit on her. Still not feeling quite right about it...but she asked some good questions. Things I am still rolling around in my mind. Wants vs needs...what is realistic?
I'm irritated. They are being crass and filthy. Just not in the mood for it. They know it too...joking about it from the other room. What's my problem, why am I being weird?
Sigh.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Small town America
First off...typing from my phone so I make no promises about punctuation...so to all of my red penned grammar loving readers...might just want to skip this one. ;)
We are in PA for the weekend. Kate's grandfather died on Monday. Today was the wake. Even Kate's aunt and cousin from Alaska flew in for it--he was there with his wife...who no one knew existed. But still easier to swallow for the people paying their respects than Kate introducing me as her partner. Granted Kate's family is used to it and truly does love and accept me--and this is what I am reminding myself repeatedly even as I write this--but we are in small town America here...I saw the faces. Certainly there were those who took it on stride and were fine--but then there were the others. I tried not to let it bother me...practice my teflon mind...but I was tired from the trip, hungry, and already emotionally drained from the week. So I can't say it didn't get to me as the night wore on.
I know that is lack of exposure mixed with religious belief--i can't blame anyone for that. Kate and her mother are quite well known in town...I wonder how this will affect Carol now that the secret is out and I am no longer "Kate's friend from NH".
Tomorrow is a new day. Going to bed now--technically already there (Kate is lightly snoring beside me)--so to be somewhat refreshed for tomorrow. Hopefully lightning doesn't strike when I go up for my reading. ;)
Seriously though, taking my own advice...checking the gremlin, not taking things personally, and being mindful.
God is walking with me in this place and I am loved.
Peace
We are in PA for the weekend. Kate's grandfather died on Monday. Today was the wake. Even Kate's aunt and cousin from Alaska flew in for it--he was there with his wife...who no one knew existed. But still easier to swallow for the people paying their respects than Kate introducing me as her partner. Granted Kate's family is used to it and truly does love and accept me--and this is what I am reminding myself repeatedly even as I write this--but we are in small town America here...I saw the faces. Certainly there were those who took it on stride and were fine--but then there were the others. I tried not to let it bother me...practice my teflon mind...but I was tired from the trip, hungry, and already emotionally drained from the week. So I can't say it didn't get to me as the night wore on.
I know that is lack of exposure mixed with religious belief--i can't blame anyone for that. Kate and her mother are quite well known in town...I wonder how this will affect Carol now that the secret is out and I am no longer "Kate's friend from NH".
Tomorrow is a new day. Going to bed now--technically already there (Kate is lightly snoring beside me)--so to be somewhat refreshed for tomorrow. Hopefully lightning doesn't strike when I go up for my reading. ;)
Seriously though, taking my own advice...checking the gremlin, not taking things personally, and being mindful.
God is walking with me in this place and I am loved.
Peace
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I am okay
"you aren't okay, are you?"
"No, not really"
Then later...
"you'll be okay"
"I know, I am always okay"
A snapshot of my day, or at least where I was in space and time. Emotionally I am somewhat drained. Today is an anniversary of sorts. It was one year ago today that my brother moved out of my parents' house and never looked back. There was no hiding anymore. On the 4th will be one year from the day that my mother and I had that 'discussion in Panera'.
I had contact with my mother today. It was through text. Not the best mode of communication, lots to be misconstrued. But part of my rationale was to have something of a barrier between us...the disconnect would give me time to collect myself and withhold the emotional response. Why did I engage her? What benefit did I get from it?
I needed a reality check. I needed to be reminded that I made the right choice one year ago. Often, I doubt myself, the gremlin attacks. That ideal of the perfect daughter creeps in and I am consumed by guilt. In the conversation with my mother, we moved in the same circular conversation that we have throughout the year. No responsibility. She apologized already and that should be enough. And it is incomprehensible to her that things are not okay.
Does it have to be black and white? Yes, for now it does. At least until they can take some responsibility and stop blaming everyone but themselves. There has to be some forward progress on their part before it will be even remotely safe to lower the wall.
I am tired now...eyes barely staying open. Going to take advantage of the opportunity. More tomorrow.
"No, not really"
Then later...
"you'll be okay"
"I know, I am always okay"
A snapshot of my day, or at least where I was in space and time. Emotionally I am somewhat drained. Today is an anniversary of sorts. It was one year ago today that my brother moved out of my parents' house and never looked back. There was no hiding anymore. On the 4th will be one year from the day that my mother and I had that 'discussion in Panera'.
I had contact with my mother today. It was through text. Not the best mode of communication, lots to be misconstrued. But part of my rationale was to have something of a barrier between us...the disconnect would give me time to collect myself and withhold the emotional response. Why did I engage her? What benefit did I get from it?
I needed a reality check. I needed to be reminded that I made the right choice one year ago. Often, I doubt myself, the gremlin attacks. That ideal of the perfect daughter creeps in and I am consumed by guilt. In the conversation with my mother, we moved in the same circular conversation that we have throughout the year. No responsibility. She apologized already and that should be enough. And it is incomprehensible to her that things are not okay.
Does it have to be black and white? Yes, for now it does. At least until they can take some responsibility and stop blaming everyone but themselves. There has to be some forward progress on their part before it will be even remotely safe to lower the wall.
I am tired now...eyes barely staying open. Going to take advantage of the opportunity. More tomorrow.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The things I think about
Just re-read some of my more recent posts. In doing so, I am left wondering about whether a general disclaimer is necessary, that things are not that bad. I'd even started to write one...but realized that is was more of a gremlin, make it all look good, people pleasing motive, than anything of actual substance.
It is Sunday morning, I am up because there is something in the oven for Church. Kate is asleep, Winslow and Lily have both been attended to. I am always particularly reflective on Sundays.
I am thinking about God, faith, fate, free will. This poem comes to mind:
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.
It is Sunday morning, I am up because there is something in the oven for Church. Kate is asleep, Winslow and Lily have both been attended to. I am always particularly reflective on Sundays.
I am thinking about God, faith, fate, free will. This poem comes to mind:
Footprints in the Sand
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”
The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you.”
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you.”
--Mary Stevenson
There have been dark points in my life. Pointed where I was so angry with God that I walked away for years at a time. I did not feel his presence with me, or perhaps I was just too numb to notice. He probably was carrying me too, which is how I made it through, despite a few bumps and bruises, an occasional scar. I've distanced myself again, I feel his presence, but not to the degree I did two years ago. But I suspect that is more about me than anything else. His gifts are all around me, I see them, I know them, I just do not always feel as connected to him directly.
I want the words to mean more. I want to feel that warmth that I do at other times, as I read the words, recite the words. Sure I went to CCD as a kid, even taught it--but what do I actually know from that experience? Not a whole heck of a lot.
Why do I associate faith with text and tradition? I am not sure. Socially constructed perhaps? Full of shoulds and expectations? Faith is different than religion. Perhaps this is where I need to start. I have faith. I believe that there is a God, I've always gotten a bit hung up on the Jesus thing...but more in the why him? Why then sort of way. And then when the hell is he coming back to clean up the mess we've made? Granted, I was not around in 1st century Palestine, but are we really that much better off now? I think we missed a memo somewhere.
I do talk to God, though not in any sort of organized way. There are points throughout the day/week where I am feeling particularly grateful. It is in those times that I let him know. I figure it's a good start. I have stopped 'asking' for things--aside from guidance. Figure he gets enough of that from the rest of the world. I don't really yell at him anymore...though I do have discussions at times about the things I do not understand. And there are a lot. Perhaps I am also growing, shifting, maturing. You know--sort of like the angry vengeful God of the Old Testament to the softer one of the New Testament.
We'll see.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Finding balance
Today has been an emotional day. I started out on a high. Feeling truly grateful for the people closest to me. God sent in the heavy artillery recently to help me out of the hole I've been in. Despite my best efforts, I have not been in the greatest shape this year. And I know this. But things have started to turn around, and for this I am forever grateful.
Then I fell. It hurt, on multiple levels. I couldn't get up on my own. I needed help. You know how much I hate asking for help. Talk about a dose of humility. But I stayed positive. Focused on the day. Still okay. Even tried to laugh it off with one of the people who sees me through to the core. I doubt it worked very well.
The energy from the morning faded as I moved my office. The move itself isn't the problem. Right now it's feeling unsettled. It was hard to leave at the end of the day with things in disarray. But I did it. Because it was what needed to be done. There will be time tomorrow.
Now, I am feeling raw. A little insecure. Vulnerable. I could use a good cry, have felt that way for the last few days...but not necessarily out of sadness or despair the whole time. In fact, there is nothing wrong as far as I can tell. Perhaps it was the fall...taking that to a deeper level...
Perhaps some of it was the talk of walls, rubble, and gates. How am I doing with taking down those walls? Am I sifting through the rubble like I could be? And who gets a key to the gate? Yours? mine? Do I deserve one? Should I be allowed to help with the reconstruction? Gremlin, I know. But still it's where I am at.
In emotional times like this, it is not uncommon for me to have the highs and lows. I think it is part of the balance of the universe, positive and negative, ying and yang. Just wish I was better at slowing the roller coaster a bit.
There is also the fact that one of the ladies at the front desk asks me every day if I went to the gym the night before. Pisses me off really. But only because I know that it would be in my best interest if I did. But, I can't seem to get my head out of my ass to get there. Part of me says to go now...but if I do, I won't sleep. I'll try to go in the morning. She wants me to report back about the interval training. Truth--I've been avoiding it. Because it will be hard. And I am mad at myself for gaining the weight back; for not stretching. I know it was partly my depression kicking me in the ass over the last year, and partly being comfortable with Kate for the year before that.
Next Tuesday it will be one year since the things with my parents hit the fan. I know that is weighing in too...where do I go from here? Brings me back to recent questions...does it have to be black and white? If there is shades of gray, what does that mean? For me? For Matthew? Kate?
Complicated really.
Then I fell. It hurt, on multiple levels. I couldn't get up on my own. I needed help. You know how much I hate asking for help. Talk about a dose of humility. But I stayed positive. Focused on the day. Still okay. Even tried to laugh it off with one of the people who sees me through to the core. I doubt it worked very well.
The energy from the morning faded as I moved my office. The move itself isn't the problem. Right now it's feeling unsettled. It was hard to leave at the end of the day with things in disarray. But I did it. Because it was what needed to be done. There will be time tomorrow.
Now, I am feeling raw. A little insecure. Vulnerable. I could use a good cry, have felt that way for the last few days...but not necessarily out of sadness or despair the whole time. In fact, there is nothing wrong as far as I can tell. Perhaps it was the fall...taking that to a deeper level...
Perhaps some of it was the talk of walls, rubble, and gates. How am I doing with taking down those walls? Am I sifting through the rubble like I could be? And who gets a key to the gate? Yours? mine? Do I deserve one? Should I be allowed to help with the reconstruction? Gremlin, I know. But still it's where I am at.
In emotional times like this, it is not uncommon for me to have the highs and lows. I think it is part of the balance of the universe, positive and negative, ying and yang. Just wish I was better at slowing the roller coaster a bit.
There is also the fact that one of the ladies at the front desk asks me every day if I went to the gym the night before. Pisses me off really. But only because I know that it would be in my best interest if I did. But, I can't seem to get my head out of my ass to get there. Part of me says to go now...but if I do, I won't sleep. I'll try to go in the morning. She wants me to report back about the interval training. Truth--I've been avoiding it. Because it will be hard. And I am mad at myself for gaining the weight back; for not stretching. I know it was partly my depression kicking me in the ass over the last year, and partly being comfortable with Kate for the year before that.
Next Tuesday it will be one year since the things with my parents hit the fan. I know that is weighing in too...where do I go from here? Brings me back to recent questions...does it have to be black and white? If there is shades of gray, what does that mean? For me? For Matthew? Kate?
Complicated really.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Agreements with Self
Yesterday I wrote about perfection. Asking myself, what have I lost in my quest for perfection. In that stream of thought, I talked about being disabled. Being disabled makes it impossible for me to be perfect, based on an ideal.
Today I opened the 5th Agreement, to read the following, ["What about someone who is physically disabled? Is that person perfect?" Well according to what you know, that person may be imperfect, but is what you know the truth?] Certainly caused me to pause. I even read the passage to Kate and reminded her of the blog from night before.
I've said before that I do not believe in coincidences. In fact, I have gone so far as to say that when these things happen to me (which is happening more and more frequently), it is in some what God's way if getting my attention.
The four agreements are as follows:
There is now a fifth one...but, I will save that for you to discover for yourself....
.however with this i am also not very good.
I need to take it easier on myself. I need to see myself as fabulous--as a beautiful patchwork quilt.
Today I opened the 5th Agreement, to read the following, ["What about someone who is physically disabled? Is that person perfect?" Well according to what you know, that person may be imperfect, but is what you know the truth?] Certainly caused me to pause. I even read the passage to Kate and reminded her of the blog from night before.
I've said before that I do not believe in coincidences. In fact, I have gone so far as to say that when these things happen to me (which is happening more and more frequently), it is in some what God's way if getting my attention.
The four agreements are as follows:
- Be impeccable with your word
- Don't take things personally
- Don't make assumptions
- Always do your best
There is now a fifth one...but, I will save that for you to discover for yourself....
.however with this i am also not very good.
I need to take it easier on myself. I need to see myself as fabulous--as a beautiful patchwork quilt.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Perfection
Perfection is as much about control as it is about the ability to lose control. - black swan
I didn't think I would like the movie. But, I did. This is probably one of the most powerful lines in the movie for me. That and the end, which I will not share. I thought about it for a long time, even after the credits rolled...in the car on the way home. And even now hours later.
The White Swan vs The Black Swan--perfection/purity vs vulnerability/passion
How much of myself do I lose in my drive to be perfect. I think of my friend--not fabulous because she isn't perfect. I tell her this is BS, because it is. Yet, I hold myself to a different standard. When am I at my happiest? Certainly not when I am trying to be perfect. In fact, some of the best times in recent memory have been, when I open myself up and show those imperfections. As scary and terrifying as it can be at times...that loss of control, if only for a moment is so freeing, so real.
Where did I get this need to be perfect? It seems that it has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. Even as a small child, I had to be the best. I put on a good front that it was okay if I wasn't, but that's all it was--a front.
I think about being born with a disability. From the moment I came into this world, I was imperfect. Hell, I have the scars from birth to prove it! How much of that plays a factor? I remember when I hit "normal ranges" --90 degree angles. I needed to go for 100/110. Yet now, I'd be lucky to hit 45. I was also the first patient my PT had to ride a two-wheeled bike w/o training wheels. I was the best.
In school there was the drive for the best grades--NHS, Editor-In-Chief of the school paper, president of this or that. All covering for the scared little girl, with low self-esteem, and a dark secret--she hated herself, and her life. But damn did it look good.
College was much of the same, minus the self-loathing. But still needing to be the best...RA as a sophomore, Honors Club President, ARD by 2nd semester Junior year. It goes on. I was happier though, there was more balance. Pressure sure, and I nearly cracked under it a few times. Nearly transferred, changed majors more than once, then there was Sr year when I almost quit every extracurricular. But didn't, because how would that have looked?
I am older now. But still I battle this need for perfection. At work, at home, but I am finding that the harder I try for it...the more tired and unhappy I become. I talk with my clients about setting realistic expectations for themselves. I think it's about time I set some for myself as well.
I was not put here to be perfect. I was put here, by the grace of God to be me. Just me. Radical Acceptance--right? I am not perfect. Nor will I ever be. I am clumsy, anxious, chubby, a little neurotic, gullible, trusting, and as much as sometimes I hate to admit it, I cannot do some things like the rest of my friends--because I am disabled. God gave me that gift, as a constant reminder that I do not have to be perfect--because with my CP, I can never be.
I didn't think I would like the movie. But, I did. This is probably one of the most powerful lines in the movie for me. That and the end, which I will not share. I thought about it for a long time, even after the credits rolled...in the car on the way home. And even now hours later.
The White Swan vs The Black Swan--perfection/purity vs vulnerability/passion
How much of myself do I lose in my drive to be perfect. I think of my friend--not fabulous because she isn't perfect. I tell her this is BS, because it is. Yet, I hold myself to a different standard. When am I at my happiest? Certainly not when I am trying to be perfect. In fact, some of the best times in recent memory have been, when I open myself up and show those imperfections. As scary and terrifying as it can be at times...that loss of control, if only for a moment is so freeing, so real.
Where did I get this need to be perfect? It seems that it has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. Even as a small child, I had to be the best. I put on a good front that it was okay if I wasn't, but that's all it was--a front.
I think about being born with a disability. From the moment I came into this world, I was imperfect. Hell, I have the scars from birth to prove it! How much of that plays a factor? I remember when I hit "normal ranges" --90 degree angles. I needed to go for 100/110. Yet now, I'd be lucky to hit 45. I was also the first patient my PT had to ride a two-wheeled bike w/o training wheels. I was the best.
In school there was the drive for the best grades--NHS, Editor-In-Chief of the school paper, president of this or that. All covering for the scared little girl, with low self-esteem, and a dark secret--she hated herself, and her life. But damn did it look good.
College was much of the same, minus the self-loathing. But still needing to be the best...RA as a sophomore, Honors Club President, ARD by 2nd semester Junior year. It goes on. I was happier though, there was more balance. Pressure sure, and I nearly cracked under it a few times. Nearly transferred, changed majors more than once, then there was Sr year when I almost quit every extracurricular. But didn't, because how would that have looked?
I am older now. But still I battle this need for perfection. At work, at home, but I am finding that the harder I try for it...the more tired and unhappy I become. I talk with my clients about setting realistic expectations for themselves. I think it's about time I set some for myself as well.
I was not put here to be perfect. I was put here, by the grace of God to be me. Just me. Radical Acceptance--right? I am not perfect. Nor will I ever be. I am clumsy, anxious, chubby, a little neurotic, gullible, trusting, and as much as sometimes I hate to admit it, I cannot do some things like the rest of my friends--because I am disabled. God gave me that gift, as a constant reminder that I do not have to be perfect--because with my CP, I can never be.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sufi Wisdom
I've been quiet lately.
Normally, this would probably be a bad thing. But, truth--I'm doing pretty well. At work today, a ct commented that I seemed like I was in a really good mood, hyper almost. And I was in a good mood. Zachariah said something at lunch a few minutes before, that really made me think...
Sufi Islam and Buddhism agree that much of the reason for one's unhappiness, is when the world fails to meet our expectations.
I spend my days talking with people about their expectations, encouraging them to examine these ideals and challenge them. You know, all that CBT stuff. But what about my own ideals? Are my expectations realistic? Of myself? Of others?
No.
The expectations I have of others, tend to be very low. Unless, of course you are in the inner circle. On the surface level, I really don't expect much of anyone, aside from basic respect for one another. To do the best you can in the moment. And sometimes that expectation is not upheld.
For those who are closest, the expectations are high. But perhaps that is why there are so few who have made it inside, and even fewer who have stayed. I'm not sure I can even verbalize what these standards are exactly, just something of a code. Respect, trust, comfort, honesty, genuine.
Of myself. Perfection. Impossible to achieve, yet I try. To be the best friend, partner, sister, daughter, employee, insert label here. Yet I try, while still upholding the same characteristics named above.
What happens to our happiness if we are constantly failing our own expectations?
Whatever you have in your mind - forget it;
Whatever you have in your hand - give it;
Whatever is to be your fate - face it! Abu Sa’id (Essential Sufism)
Perhaps my fate, at this point in my life, is to challenge these expectations I have of myself and those closest to me, and follow my own advice. Face it, push myself (with a bit of help) to examine the parts of myself, that I have been avoiding for too long. In order to become truly happy, I must adjust these ideals, so not to set myself up for failure.
And this is where I am. Looking in the mirror.
Normally, this would probably be a bad thing. But, truth--I'm doing pretty well. At work today, a ct commented that I seemed like I was in a really good mood, hyper almost. And I was in a good mood. Zachariah said something at lunch a few minutes before, that really made me think...
Sufi Islam and Buddhism agree that much of the reason for one's unhappiness, is when the world fails to meet our expectations.
I spend my days talking with people about their expectations, encouraging them to examine these ideals and challenge them. You know, all that CBT stuff. But what about my own ideals? Are my expectations realistic? Of myself? Of others?
No.
The expectations I have of others, tend to be very low. Unless, of course you are in the inner circle. On the surface level, I really don't expect much of anyone, aside from basic respect for one another. To do the best you can in the moment. And sometimes that expectation is not upheld.
For those who are closest, the expectations are high. But perhaps that is why there are so few who have made it inside, and even fewer who have stayed. I'm not sure I can even verbalize what these standards are exactly, just something of a code. Respect, trust, comfort, honesty, genuine.
Of myself. Perfection. Impossible to achieve, yet I try. To be the best friend, partner, sister, daughter, employee, insert label here. Yet I try, while still upholding the same characteristics named above.
What happens to our happiness if we are constantly failing our own expectations?
Whatever you have in your mind - forget it;
Whatever you have in your hand - give it;
Whatever is to be your fate - face it! Abu Sa’id (Essential Sufism)
Perhaps my fate, at this point in my life, is to challenge these expectations I have of myself and those closest to me, and follow my own advice. Face it, push myself (with a bit of help) to examine the parts of myself, that I have been avoiding for too long. In order to become truly happy, I must adjust these ideals, so not to set myself up for failure.
And this is where I am. Looking in the mirror.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I'm a little jazzy tonight. Kate is in the other room talking to Beth about Australia--we leave in six weeks and we have no where to stay. Breathing. By the way, did I mention that our stay down under overlaps with Gay Mardi Gras a bit? CRAZY TOWN. I am sitting on the couch with Lori--she is playing Red Dead Redemption--stupid cowboy video game.
Oh, and then there was the 5hr energy shot I took at 12...that stuff is AWESOME! Works way better than coffee...too bad there was only two in my stocking...
Zachariah (the doctoral intern with the six pack--I've seen the picture--and humility) is developing an exercise and diet routine for me. A combination of intervals and weights. Something tells me this is gonna hurt! But only if I follow it...have to though. I know, I know...heard that one before.
Been thinking a lot about...about what? Family. What does it mean for me. That definition has changed over the years. It's had to...evolved as I have evolved and events unfolded. What triggers this tonight? Lori seeing my father in the grocery store.
This is me:
Another form the hero role takes is the super-achiever child, who may excel at sports and is driven to achieve high academic marks. The perfectionism inherent in this role creates problems when an adult child cannot control the lives of everyone around her. She means well, but often her efforts meet with resentment and her own feelings stay buried. Heroes are certain they have to earn the right to be loved, and to be happy. They equate doing enough with being enough. Their strategy to fix the family is to work as hard as they can so the family will look and be better.
Or it was. And I was good at it too. On the outside at least. Made it all look easy. But I was miserable. I am at a turning point again. I've been in a similar place before--10 years ago. But there is a difference now. I have more choices. More resources. More supports. But still haunted by the expectations, the recordings, memories, all of it.
But how to break free of it, is part of this process of letting go, surrender, and release. Spiral.
Oh, and then there was the 5hr energy shot I took at 12...that stuff is AWESOME! Works way better than coffee...too bad there was only two in my stocking...
Zachariah (the doctoral intern with the six pack--I've seen the picture--and humility) is developing an exercise and diet routine for me. A combination of intervals and weights. Something tells me this is gonna hurt! But only if I follow it...have to though. I know, I know...heard that one before.
Been thinking a lot about...about what? Family. What does it mean for me. That definition has changed over the years. It's had to...evolved as I have evolved and events unfolded. What triggers this tonight? Lori seeing my father in the grocery store.
This is me:
The Hero Saves the Day
There is one super-responsible child in every dysfunctional family. Usually, it is the oldest child, but if the second child is a girl she may take on the hero role. She takes care of younger siblings, cooks, cleans, shops and manages money and household tasks. The hero often becomes the unwitting confidant of a parent and has few friends her own age. There is much praise and approval from parents and outsiders for heroes. Many people do not understand the inappropriateness and weight of this role for children.Another form the hero role takes is the super-achiever child, who may excel at sports and is driven to achieve high academic marks. The perfectionism inherent in this role creates problems when an adult child cannot control the lives of everyone around her. She means well, but often her efforts meet with resentment and her own feelings stay buried. Heroes are certain they have to earn the right to be loved, and to be happy. They equate doing enough with being enough. Their strategy to fix the family is to work as hard as they can so the family will look and be better.
Or it was. And I was good at it too. On the outside at least. Made it all look easy. But I was miserable. I am at a turning point again. I've been in a similar place before--10 years ago. But there is a difference now. I have more choices. More resources. More supports. But still haunted by the expectations, the recordings, memories, all of it.
But how to break free of it, is part of this process of letting go, surrender, and release. Spiral.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Coming up for air...
Breathing easier in the last few days. Feeling like I have made progress in my search for meaning. Yes, that's right meaning. Family has always been of utmost importance to me. So, to feel like I had none...total devastation and despair. But, not in the 'are you okay?'--pink piece of paper--kind of way, but more in the 'what the hell do I do now, where do I go from here' kind of way.
What I do now, is notice and move on. There is no where to go but up. I create my own family, as I did once before. But this time I am more selective in it's members. I was reminded over the last week that there are still people who love and care for me, even though we are not connected by blood. You know the ones, the ones that you can call at 2am and they'll be there for you, no matter what. And I would do the same for them. So I am okay.
2011 will be the year for new beginnings, new traditions, and new memories. I have to let go of past expectations and live in the moment. Granted, there will be times when I will get stuck, but I am human and that is part of my process.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love? Measure in love
(excerpt -seasons of love-)
I made these. The necklace says "strength" and "discipline" and the bracelet "serenity". Physical reminders of what I need to do to more forward. I think I will add serenity to my tattoo at the base of my neck. Or balance, perhaps? Who wants to come?
Serenity.
What I do now, is notice and move on. There is no where to go but up. I create my own family, as I did once before. But this time I am more selective in it's members. I was reminded over the last week that there are still people who love and care for me, even though we are not connected by blood. You know the ones, the ones that you can call at 2am and they'll be there for you, no matter what. And I would do the same for them. So I am okay.
2011 will be the year for new beginnings, new traditions, and new memories. I have to let go of past expectations and live in the moment. Granted, there will be times when I will get stuck, but I am human and that is part of my process.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousandSix hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love? Measure in love
(excerpt -seasons of love-)
I made these. The necklace says "strength" and "discipline" and the bracelet "serenity". Physical reminders of what I need to do to more forward. I think I will add serenity to my tattoo at the base of my neck. Or balance, perhaps? Who wants to come?
Serenity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)