Category Archives: Relationships

Shame on you…shame on me

I have been a long time fan of Brene Brown. If you are on a journey of self discovery and you have not yet read any of her books, I suggest you make some time to do so.  She has been a long time shame researcher, and for someone who has lived the life I have, her lessons on shame have been invaluable.

Don’t think you’ve experienced shame?  Not a shamer yourself?  Well let me tell you, you are probably wrong. Identifying it in your life will be the best thing you can do to help yourself, and those around you. I recently had this with my mother…”I’m sorry that you are making this all about yourself. I just see you just keep doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. You’re not helping.”  This was in response to her not getting her way, and not being open minded enough to be involved in knowing or understanding what is really going on.  That is shame in action.  I was supposed to feel all bad about what I was doing and give in…not happening.

As a society we do a lot of shaming.

We shame women who stay home with their kids, and women who chose or have to work.

We shame people who need food stamps to feed their families, and people who over indulge.

We shame people for ordering diet Coke, and people who drink protein shakes.

We shame people who smoke, and people who over exercise.

We shame in those who take religion too seriously, and those who don’t take it at all.

We shame the overweight women in the drive through, and the skinny kid who doesn’t want to eat.

We shame women who breastfeed their babies, and women who chose or have to use formula.

We shame our friends and families for not including us in their lives enough, and for always being around.

We shame ourselves too.  As a matter of fact I’m doing it to myself right now.

Why can’t you get your shit together? If only you would just stick to what you say instead of always caving in?  Hey, why not put a picture of your fat self as your phone back ground so you can remind yourself what you are doing to your body?? Fat shaming myself is not turning out to work as well as I’d hoped.

Is it fair to say my life is not a good one because someone I have chosen is not living up to my personal expectation???  What about the 20 other people who are? The one’s that are ready and willing to be what you need are worth less than the one person you pinned your expectation on who isn’t living up to it?  OMG.  Honestly, I am pretty sure I’ve been in that position myself.  Thankfully I have learned better.

Why do we shame everyone?  Do you know the facts? Are you being everything to everyone and living the highest of high values and character that you feel it is ok to judge and shame a person for doing something you think makes them less. Do you feel like a failure in so many areas, that you think anyone who is failing in the one you luckily have down is a piece of shit? People…geez.

The mom who stays home or the mom who has to work. What the fuck do you care what or why they have chosen their path?  Aren’t we all just doing the best we can for our kids?  My life is not the same as yours even if we choose the same path. So what if the parents are greedy and spoil their kids into being abnoxious self entitled assholes.  Why do you give a shit??  Are you SURE your kids are going to be perfect??  Here’s another thought…no matter what you do, someone else is going to judge you.  So get off what ever fucking horse or soapbox you’re on and do YOUR best with YOUR family and stop the judgment on others.

You think people who use food stamps are pathetic and lazy??  How many do you know personally?  People who are over indulgent are greedy and selfish??? Sounds like jealousy.  Think diet coke and cigarettes are death by hand…so what if they are?  Are they tying you down and forcing it on you? What if they are in transition from an even more deadly addiction and they are trying to step down?Disgusted by the overweight person standing in front of you???  Have you checked the scale lately or maybe you need to check your compassion switch cause you are an asshole.  Think mothers breastfeeding their babies in public is indecent???  Oh please, come tell me that to my face.  Breasts are beautiful…and they are uniquely designed for FEEDING YOUR BABIES!  OMG. Every time I see a video of a woman yelling at another woman who is breastfeeding in public I want to reach into that video and flog them.  I have never seen a mother with her tit hanging out for display.  If there is a face attached to it then there is less of it to see then most bikini tops on the market these days. If you are uncomfortable look away. If it makes your man excited punch that fucker in the face and tell him to stop being a pervert.

The answer to end all of this shaming is compassion.  You either need to have it for others, or you need to have it for yourself.

Another is to let go of expectation.

We are not the same. None of us.  Even if you shared the same womb with someone you are not the same. Every single one of us has our own challenges.  Some put on us by society, some by family, some by circumstance, some by choice and some cause we just don’t know what the hell we are doing.  Ultimately, everyone is just trying to do the best they can…even the fucking asshole next door tossing dog poop in your yard.  Some just don’t know any better, and some have just no been shown any better.

Not a single person has improved their own personal life by shaming someone else.  If you find yourself doing it, turn that shit around on yourself and find out why you feel that way.  Most likely you have some kind of deficiency that you need to tend to. You don’t have to share it, but you should work on it if you truly want to be a better person.  If you don’t, well then toddle loo…. Why not try being a friend or reaching out to someone you might see as less than you.  Maybe that person just needs a kind word.

Please please learn to be kind to one another.  It is the only way to truly being to heal the world and make it harder for those who would chose to bully or attack people.  I’m sure most of us would be heartbroken to see somone get abused, but the only way to make less victims is to make people more empowered.  That comes through compassion and understanding.  Either get to know someone, or get the fuck out of their business.  There is enough shit in our own backyard to attend to without pointing out what looks like shit in someone else’s, and quite honestly what looks like shit to you might be a life raft for someone else.

Take you shame, your judgement and your pity and turn it inward.  If you feel this way towards someone else that means there is something that YOU need to work on.  Good people, kind and compassionate people, people who are secure in their own skin don’t do that.

Never let them win.

There has been a theme lately with one particular friend about paybacks.  This has been a lesson hard learned for me, but one I have a complete grasp.

Yes, I would love to punch that bitch in the face.  What I wouldn’t give to tell that asshole to go fuck himself. Oooohhhh, yes there are people and moments that take me to a place of total hate.

What I have learned, the most hard and unpleasant of ways, is that when dealing with people that think you are crazy, for lack of a better word, then there is nothing in this world that pleases them more than for you to go crazy. If you don’t already know, I am fluent in the ways of the narcissist.  Yes, it’s a gift that has been bestowed upon me more often that I care to admit.  The two most prevalent examples of this are my mother and my ex-husband.  Let me give you an example with each that demonstrates exactly the type of behavior they love to elicit from me.

This story was laid out in detail on the blog many many (OMG like YEARS ago) years ago.  For those who may have missed it here is the cliff notes version of the incident.

I was freshly divorced, maybe a year.  It was Christmas, and she had made it abundantly clear that if I didn’t want to join her for Christmas, she wasn’t interested in joining me.  I had decided to make a care package of gifts to give her, one of which was a picture of me and her when I was little playing around with a toy Santa sleigh.  I wanted to remind her of our bond, in hopes to help mend things. This setting boundaries thing was still pretty new to me (us) and I was just getting the hang of standing by them, while she tried to butcher them to pieces.  So, I was still trying to “bring her around” without actually setting foot in the lions’ den.  Plus, I think it merits mentioning that the first Christmas after my divorce (or actually during) her gift to me was a donation to a local charity…in her name…but presented to me. (???)

Before I had a chance to mail it she showed up on my doorstep, uninvited…unannounced.  As I said, I was still learning how to hold my own and keep my boundaries firmly in place at this time, and it didn’t take long for this visit to turn ugly.  She started out pretty cool, offering me a check (sizeable I might add) and telling me she missed me.  I can’t remember everything verbatim, but it was quickly followed by her saying I was a jerk (that is NOT the word she used, but it encompasses the feeling of her intent), to which I replied “but look, I have a box all ready for you filled with gifts!!”  Awww, I was so naive at that time. That gesture catapulted the conversation up a few dozen notches, she got in my face, I told her to back up, she wouldn’t, I told her to leave, more ugly words… As she was leaving I remember asking her “What do you want???”  Her reply “For you to apologize.”  Ok…so I said “I’m sorry if my actions hurt you.”  To which she slapped back with…”It doesn’t count if I have to ask for it.”

There were a few other choice words, I was trying to get her to see that the block between us was her…but she wasn’t having it (see what I mean about my being naïve) and then I snapped.  I grabbed the box, ripped it open, pulled out the framed picture and said “SEE!!! SEE WHAT I HAVE HER FOR YOU!! THIS IS HOW MUCH I CARE!!”  I do not remember what she said after that but I took that frame, smashed in on the sidewalk told her to fuck off and never come back.

The look on her face was all I needed to see to know…she won.  Yep, I gave her exactly what she wanted.  Me, losing my shit.  I just gave her the confirmation (in her own head) that I am so full of hate and anger that I cannot let go and I am the reason we cannot have a relationship.  Let me tell you, in the  moment of seeing the look on her face I knew that I had fucked up.  I went in the house and instead of being mad at her, I was completely and totally pissed at myself.  I know this scenario.  This is what I have been working on, preparing for, and I fucked it up.  Dammit, dammit dammit.

That was the last time I was ever going to lose my shit in front of her, no matter how dirty she got.  She pokes, she tries, but no matter what, all I have to do is look at her face and I can see her trying to get me and I won’t let her.  She will NEVER win that battle again.

Yes…that was the long cliff notes version.  On to the next scenario….

Just after the divorce, the ex and I were getting along fairly well.  I was doing what most new divorcee’s do, going out with friends and having a good time (on the weekends the kids were with him anyway). One day I was at his place and he mentioned a picture someone told him about me on Facebook (he doesn’t have FB he thinks it’s the devil).  It was a pretty innocent picture, some guy pretending to grab my boob and me looking all surprised.  There was not touching, my boob was not hanging out…and I was not dressed like a $2 whore.  Picture was just that… HE did not see the picture.  HE was only told about the picture and apparently it gave the impression that I was nothing but a 2 bit whore and I should keep that shit to myself.

I started off pretty calm about it…I mean, I knew the picture and I would not have been embarrassed to show anyone, my kids included who would have more than likely just rolled their eyes.  As I laughed it off, he got more agitated…that’s when the whore (that is not exactly how he put it) and watching my self comment came up.  Guess who snapped??? Well, I started to go off and as he stood in front of me I could see this calm look of satisfaction come over his face.  That mutherfucker….

I didn’t even finish my sentence…at that moment I turned and walked out.  You almost won that one asshole…but I’m getting quicker.  I knew then, he would never win that fight with me again.  That is, as a matter of fact, one of the reasons I asked for the divorce.  He has given me a few chances to lose my shit since then, but, thankfully I’ve learned to stay firm and remember what his end game is…and I will not fall for it.

So when this friend tells me stories of people treating him poorly, attacking his credibility or just disrespecting him in general (and trust me these are minor infractions) he adds how much he wants to take them down.  My response to him…never let them win.  They want to paint you as the asshole, then they poke you and piss on you until you get all huffy and become and asshole…they win.  If you throw the first punch, they win.  If you tell them they are and always have been a liar…they win.

Anytime some jackass pokes you to the point that you lose your shit…they win.  That is their end game.  That is their drug of choice….to poke you till you explode, then sit back and say “See…I told you he was an asshole.”

Is it hard to sit back while they call you names, make up lies, threaten you…yes it is.  Do they deserve to get put in their place either physically or verbally…hell the fuck yes.  If you do that, will they finally stop making up lies about you?  Threatening you?  Nope…they will probably never stop.  It may lessen, but they will never stop trying to make you into something ugly because that’s just who they are.  Ugly, sad people, lacking in confidence or even human decency.  That’s them, and it has not a god damn thing to do with you…unless you fall for the shit.  If you can take a moment and remember who you are dealing with, remember that they have nothing better to do than to see how far they can go before you lose your shit, then maybe you can step back and let them try, without a single fucking response from you.

Here’s the picture I want you to see.  This crazy fucker is trying desperately to get the world to believe that you are the biggest asshole that has ever walked the earth.  They will bring up ugly parts of your past, they will pull shit out of their ass, they will do anything and everything they can till you snap and lose your shit.  Then, they will sit back with the most calm look on their face and point….See, I told you so.  You might as well just throw those fuckers a parade because if you give them that…they win, and that’s all they want.

BUT…same scene, with you just standing there laughing lightly, maybe chuckle, look them in the face with not one negative thought word or expression. You just let them go until they are blue in the face…suddenly they look like the crazy one.  You win that one hot stuff. You win.

So please…please when dealing with nut-jobs, remember who you’re dealing with and

Never Let Them Win

Please hold while I put on my broken record.

The other day I had to yell at myself.  This yelling consisted of several poorly written pages in my journal.  The topic, self-sabotage.

Losing weight and getting in shape has been on my “To Do” list for as long as I can remember.  My track record hasn’t been too good…a few good days here and there, but always back to square one.  Recently I had been rather busy doing shit around the house, which has been moving along pretty well.  That week, with no work and lots of chores/projects I managed to lose 6 lbs.  What I learned, and probably already know but sometimes refuse to accept, is that food is my biggest problem with weight.  I eat too much.  I eat too much bad, and I eat too much good.  I just eat too damn much.  After seeing that 6 lbs weight loss and feeling fucking elated, I spent the next four days putting it all back on…plus two more.

I got on the scale at then I lost it. The journal was filled page after page with…

What the hell is your problem?

Why do you keep sabotaging yourself?

You eat like you’re a starving child who has no idea when or where her next meal is coming from?

What the fuck??

It continued for 6 pages.  There was a lot of self-bashing and a lot of “pull your head out of your ass.”  I didn’t give myself too much of a break because I know this is all bullshit. I am more than capable of doing this. It’s not like I have 50 lbs to lose, I have 20 at most.  After completing my written beat down, I went back through my journal…and would you believe, I have had this same damn conversation on more than a few occasions. Surprise! OMG why the hell would anyone want to listen to a broken record year after year? What I can’t wrap my head around is the WHY.  Why the fuck do I do this? Why do I get going strong only to throw myself back down the damn hill and lay there is a pathetic heap of “I just can’t”.

I hate complaining.  I hate complaining about myself because in my experience nobody really gives a shit.  Ok, not nobody, but for a large part of my life, the people who were supposed to be my greatest support system didn’t give a shit about my problems.  They always had worse problems…mine were just pathetic.  I hate when other people complain because most often they just complain, there is rarely little action.  So, when I start to complain about not fitting into any of my clothes comfortably, or I feel fat and uncomfortable, I keep it to myself, and I don’t usually complain for long. It is a cycle that repeats itself over and over and over…. all the damn fucking time.  One week I bitch, I get focused and start to see results, pat myself on the back and then in the blink of an eye all my hard work is washed down the drain and there I am whining about how I can’t wear this or that cause it’s too uncomfortable.  Oh my fucking lord, please make it stop.

When you look up the meaning behind self-sabotage, it usually centers on self-worth. You fail because in the end you don’t think you are worthy of the reward.  Is this my reason?  After all the work I have done, the years of therapy, the books, tapes, videos that I have engulfed, in the end do I still feel unworthy? Something harming is hiding inside of me and I can’t find it.  It’s deep…real deep.

I have subscribed to several Instagram feeds about health, fitness and nutrition.  This is my passion.  This is where my heart goes every single time.  Yet, for me, my own personal journey, looking at all of this is just a reminder that I am a failure.  You are never going to make it. You are never going to be good enough. Funny, as I type that I can hear my mother’s voice.  She has said those exact same words to me on several occasions.  At 16 when I was trying to find my own identity, I believed her.  At 24, when I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be married or not, I believed her.  At 32, when I was a stay at home mother of two and feeling overwhelmed by life, I believed her.  I can remember several instances over my life where I was in a place of accomplishments, feeling like I was coming into my own, and she would “put me in my place” and point out what a failure I really was.  Every time I agreed, and went back to settling for meritocracy.

Alright alright alright…did I just get this shit figured out? I did!!!  It’s all my mother’s fault.  Whew!!! Now I don’t have to take responsibility, I can just sit back and blame her.  Except….no, I can’t.  Now I understand where the core of this self-destruction comes from, and, I also understand, by no fault of my mothers, that this is what she knew, so I have to be responsible for myself.  It is time to take the little girl inside of me, who has always believed that she would never be anything more than a failure, wrap my arms around her and allow her to forgive that life.  I need to tell her that those are the stories that her mother feels she was told, and she repeated them, nothing more. It doesn’t now, nor has it ever had anything to do with ME.  Now I can hug that little girl tight and let her know that she isn’t a failure, she never was a failure, and the woman she has become is strong, capable and empowered.

Honestly people, I just floored myself.  I have tried for sooooo fucking long to figure out why I do this to myself repeatedly, always coming up short on the answer.  It is because of you, because I share my stories, that I finally found the answer.  Thank you.

Now the work begins.  How do you break down a lifetime of stories that were never true?  Where do you start repairing the damage that is buried deep in your bones and start to heal them?  You start with on small step. One step towards the goal, and when you hear that voice, or when you see yourself slipping, you give yourself a little reminder that….

This is no longer my story.

What is Love? Don’t hurt me…don’t hurt me no more.

If you remember the 80’s you sang that title in your head…don’t lie.

I want to talk about Love.  I’ve been mulling this over in my head for days…but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around exactly what I want to focus on.

See, growing up the way I did, love was abusive.  I didn’t really know that at the time, I just knew when my mother beat me, or when she shamed me, or embarrassed me in public, it was all because she loved me, because she said so.

When I was married, I don’t think my husband ever told me he loved me.  I’m not sure he even said yes when I asked if he loved me.  In all fairness, I’m not sure I loved him…but the problem with that is that I don’t really know what it means to love. I was comfortable with him.  It was familiar and for all intensive purposes it was the kind of love I knew.

If you are raised to believe that love is abusive…or that the people who are the main and most important people in your life tell you that the abuse = love, but it’s not abuse, and you are making shit up or that they can love you this way, but to show your love to them you must do it that way…it’s hard to say  with clear certainty that I loved my husband.

What I do know, is I tried.  With all of my fucked up examples, all the books, the years of therapy, the tears, the begging, the KNOWING that neglect, emotional abuse, shame, abandonment, withholding of affection was not what love was, I still tried like hell to love that man.  BUT, if I can be honest with myself, maybe what I was really trying to do was get him to love me, the way I needed, not the way I was used to.

I love my kids…this I know for sure.  No matter what, those kids taught me the truest meaning of love.  It was through them that I learned that I was lucky enough to have had other people in my life that loved me in a true and honest way.  My paternal grandmother for instance.  I remember crying so much when she died…I remember thinking that was the last person on this earth (besides my kids) that truly loved me for who I was and that I was being abandoned and left in the clutches of an abusive mother and a love-less marriage. Damn.

Though, because of the negative and abusive way I was loved, and because I was fortunate to have had a few people in my life who loved me in positive ways, I was able to show my kids love in the best way.  At least I think I have.  I do those things I wish my mother had done.  I apologize when I am wrong, I let them have room to be who they want to be and not who I want them to be, and I tell them I love them…I tell them often, and I back it up with action, not abuse.

I wrote once about being asked by my counselor if I loved the Hunky Stallion.  At that time, I was thrown completely off.  I knew, I had not a single clue if I loved him or if I just wanted to be in love.  It was a reflective moment that lasted a super long fucking time.  Do you love him? Do you know what love even looks like? Are you just imagining a Disney like romance that doesn’t even exists? Are you following old patterns?  He’s damaged, you know this, are you looking for someone to fix or are these genuine feelings?  Love??? Bitch please, you don’t even know what love is.

Nope.  I am certain that my feelings at that time were not feelings of love…they were feelings of infatuation: an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something.  At that time, it was more about passion, than intimacy and love. Then one day it happened.  Did he just say he loved me??? I mean, it wasn’t just me he was talking to but…um, I think in a roundabout way he said it.  I will ignore this because, um, well, yeah…I’ll just ignore it.  What the fuck??? Did he just say it again??? It wasn’t to my face…and he may have said I love “this” and not you but why don’t you just ignore it anyway…You know because, ew…feelings.

Like most people who have had bad relationships…I knew like I knew what the gates of hell looked like (um the door to my past relationships) that I was NOT going to be the first to say I love you. I was NOT going to even acknowledge it until he was in my face telling me he loved me without any distraction or misconception.  No fucking way was I going to be the first to say it…cause, well, you know that this isn’t really love anyway and this ain’t going to last so don’t put yourself out there and look like a god-damned idiot.

I don’t listen to myself very often.  Probably not at all…so I did it. Not to his face, geez, do I look like a strong, self-assured woman to you??? Nope I said it in a text…and I started by saying “listen fucker” ….and off it went. I went and threw that word out there…wondering where it would land, but not caring too much cause for once I knew that it was genuine and even if it wasn’t reciprocated, I felt good about letting it out.  I am used to loving without it being returned…and yet, I felt safe enough to know it would not be used against me, even if he didn’t feel the same.

He did not let it linger out there on its own for long.  He addressed it and we had a beautiful talk.  For once in my life, my love was not used as a weapon against me, to hurt me, to keep me in my place to be bargained and beaten down with.  It was received…and it was embraced.  For once, in my 47 years on this earth, I felt like Love was a safe emotion to express (to someone who did not come out of my lady parts).  I’m going to just let that sink in to my bones for a while.  I am not going to get all mushy and start dreaming of our wedding or a fantasy life that ends like a Nicholas Sparks book. Fuck that shit.  I am going to just revel in the peace of knowing that it landed in the hands of someone who will not abuse it, or me because of it.  That, for me, for now…is enough.

A letter to my Mother

You can’t have a Mother’s day right around the corner and NOT think about your mother. If you have read my blog for more than 5 mins (ok 1 year and 5 mins since I took some time off), then you know I don’t have the best relationship with my mother.

It’s so sad (to quote POTUS)

Have I tried to talk to her?  Yes.  Did it help? No.

The problem is not that I don’t love my mother.  It’s also not that she doesn’t love me.  We love each other very much…Love is not the problem. It is not the solution either.

See, my mother does not believe that I love her. She does not believe that I have forgiven her the abuse from the past. She thinks that I am an angry, bitter adult who refuses to let go of the past.  This my sweet readers is what projection looks like.

She will bring up things from the past, to make a point.  I will inevitably address her “point” and she will close with “you never let anything go”.  Hmmm, wait a second, weren’t you the one who brought that up.  That is completely beside the point, and it always is.

I have fantasies…of a better relationship with my mother.  I imagine us going out to lunch and have good conversations, laughing and thoroughly enjoying each others company.  I imagine family holiday dinners with good music, good food and fun.  There are times that I think it is possible.  Seriously, I know what I’m dealing with. I understand her pain and where it comes from, surely our love for each other can overcome all the negativity.  Prince said it…Love is the answer.

It is with great sadness I have to inform you that Love cannot save everything.

My mother, deep down, has a good heart.  I have told her this.  With everything she has said and done, underneath it all she has good intentions.  She means well, I know this.  I think that is why I still fantasize about our relationship being better.  There is some part of me that hopes that the better parts of her…the goodness, the well-meaning, the love will one day take the wheel and all the pain will take a back seat.  Sometimes I see a glimmer…and then with one blink of an eye the pain rears up its ugly head and knocks me back down.  Usually it’s with a back handed passive aggressive comment, sometimes it’s a full in your face insult.

She wants to help.  I want to let her help.  Her help comes with conditions, strict hard core “my way or no way” conditions.  My acceptance of her help also comes with conditions…to not give her ultimate control.  There are boundaries.  She out right refuses to accept or respect my boundaries.  She’s even said “what is a boundary?”.  Not sure if there is a way to get through to someone like that.  I’m still going to hold on to just a little tiny bit of hope.

So, to the strangers out there who read my stuff, let me say to you…

Mom, I love you. I miss you. Happy Mother’s Day.  You have made me a better mother, if not always for the right reasons. I have learned to love and appreciate the lessons I have received from you.  I see you in my little girl and somewhere in me feels like if I can love her through it, maybe I’m loving you a little too.  If I had a chance to hand pick my mother out, knowing what I know now, there are times I would have picked someone who was more loving, caring and nurturing.  Then I think that if I had that, I would not be the person I am today.  I would not know the things I know, love the way I do, and be graced with the two beautiful children that I have.  So, if I had a chance to choose, I would choose you.  If there was only one thing I could change it would be to help you to let go of all the pain and let the love in.  We are all missing out on some special relationships and we all suffer for it.  I wish you love and peace and thank you. Happy Mother’s day.

 

A clear perspective

I make no secret that I have been in counseling for several years. There is no doubt in my mind that it has saved me in more ways than one.  It did not save my marriage, it did not save my relationship with my mother…it has saved me from thinking that there is something wrong with me.  Sometimes it’s all about validation…I am not wrong for feeling the way I do.  Other times it’s giving me a new perspective on the reasons I am the way I am, and why I feel the way I feel.

Love:

“Wait…are you in love with him?”

I was completely taken aback by that question, and to be completely honest, the thought had come up just a few days earlier.  The answer to that question is as complicated for me as almost anything in my life right now.  The bottom line, I don’t know.  What I do know is that I want to be in love….I feel like after nearly 3 years together we should be in love.  However, love has always been a volatile emotion for me.  My relationships have been wrapped in my taking the blame for all that is wrong, and teaching people that it doesn’t matter how bad you treat me…I will always love you, I will always forgive you.

So what it boils down to is that I do not know what true love is.  I do not know how to be loved in an honest healthy way.  Of course, I do know what it should look like, how it should feel…yet I can’t seem to wrap my little brain around how any of that relates to me.  The task I have been given is to allow myself the opportunity to have the kind of love I truly want.  Dare I say, the kind of love I deserve.

Change:

A couple of weeks ago I had a night where I couldn’t sleep.  First off, I was completely and totally grateful that it wasn’t one of those nights that I was hyper-focused on a conversation, a comment, or feeling.  What did that mean?  Why didn’t I say this or that?  If only I had done this… Ugh, I have had way to many nights like that in the past and it sucks.  This time, it was just calm reflection, but still, the mind would not quiet.  After an hour or so I decided to get out my journal, and write it out.

Each area turned into no less than 3-4 pages.  Apparently I had some things to get off my mind.  The job, the home, the man, the friends, the ex, the smoking, the goals, the weight….There was a lot of shit packed in there that night.  The common thread seemed to commitment (or lack there of) and follow through.  Why oh why can’t I take that great idea, thought or intention, and follow through, focus and commit to any of them.  Well, it seems that I may tend to overthink (I know I was shocked too) (not really) (I’m not fooling anyone) and as was recently suggested “hyper-focus” on emotions that have no real value to the situation.  That isn’t exactly the phrase he used, but the bottom line is I  spend too much time thinking about things, applying inaccurate emotional value to things, situations and people, and not giving myself enough credit or acknowledgement that sometimes and some things are just out of my control.

I have not quit smoking because I am a failure and weak in my commitment.

I have not found a better job because I am not good enough or qualified enough for anything better than this.

I have not sought a better relationship because I don’t really deserve anything better than just the crumbs someone is willing to offer.

I can’t followed though on my yoga, house projects, meal planning, etc etc etc…because you just aren’t good at taking care of shit.

As it has been explained to me…I have a little more in common with my son than I may have been willing to admit to.  None of these things are character flaws…they are more traits of someone with ADD.  I am too focused on having a mediocre life, because it is something familiar and predictable. It is just easier to blame myself for the mediocrity than to actually accept that I could do better and pursue it.  So, it’s time to admit that I might need a little help.

It was suggested, that if I got a little help with what’s going on with my brain, I might be able to stay focused enough to follow through on all those areas of my life that are lacking.

I am not a bad person for having a hard time quitting smoking…I have an addiction that needs to be addressed.

I am not a bad person for wanting to leave my current job…it has served its purpose and I deserve an opportunity to be in a position where my strengths can be appreciated and I can be allowed to grow.

I am not a bed person for wanting a more fulfilling relationship filled with love and commitment…I deserve to be with someone who wants and appreciates what I have and is eager to return the feelings.

I am not a bad person for not staying focused on the tasks that need to be taken care of…I can give myself permission to accept that I need some help.

It’s going to be an interesting journey.  Somehow I’m going to have to admit I am not the flawed person I have been telling myself I am…I am human, sometimes we need a little help, and a clearer perspective.

 

 

Liar Liar…stop trying to put my pants on fire!

My ex husband recently accused me of posting something on FB about him that wasn’t true. I didn’t.  Unfortunately that really doesn’t matter.  Someone told him I said something, and without proof assumed it was true.  The last thing I said to him was “Why do you assume I would be the one lying?”

A few years ago, when he was dropping off the kids, the neighbor came out to talk to him.  When he left, he said “the neighbors are concerned with what’s going on over here, you should watch yourself.” and he left.  WTF?? So I marched my ass over to the neighbor to ask what’s up.  Apparently, one of the neighbors had an issue with me leaving my garbage cans out a little too long.  I immediately texted my ex to tell inform him of the neighborhoods BIG concern.  All I can think is that he must have imagined endless strange cars parked in my driveway, orgies, parties….all things that may concern certain people.  What he didn’t do, was ask what the big concern was.  See, he isn’t interested in truth, he’s interested in seeing me as a bad person, and there are enough people who would  leave him with that impression, even if it was unintentional.

There are a few things about this most recent accusation that bothers me.  I certainly know I open myself up to critics by sharing my stories.  I also know that not everyone I’m “friends” with on FB is really a friend.  For the most part, I enjoy social media and have learned to block out all the drama.  So, you want to gossip, ok.  Think about this…someone told my ex husband something that wasn’t true, which hurt him.  Not only that, but it hurt our already strained relationship, adding lighter fluid to a fire that is never going to burn out completely no matter what.  What did this person think they were going to gain by “sharing” this information?  Did they want him to see me as an Ex bashing drama queen spreading lies bout him?  I don’t know…and honestly I don’t really care.  Thanks asshole.

The second thing that bothers me, is that because he felt the need to confront me the way he did, it has caused some issues with my kids.  I have tried very hard to let my kids know that no matter what, their father and I can and will unite for their benefit.  When he told the kids to ask me to come outside, it peaked their curiosity.  They heard the entire encounter.  Now, both of them feel like they need to keep the interactions between the two of us to a minimum, cause apparently we can’t get along.

One incident and that trust is broken.  One false accusation and I’m the bad guy.

Maybe I should share less.  I could say 10,000 wonderful things about my ex…then one day I’ll call him and asshole and all hell will break loose.

I’m saddened by this, but not really surprised by any of it.  Now, I’ll go back to just doing what I do and let Karma work out the rest.