Self Aware of a Crappy Attitude

I was busy being self aware the other day by telling my husband what to do.

“What you SHOULD do is…” and “What you’re not doing is…”

Look at me having all the answers.

As life often time will hand you your own behavior, life spoke up and I realized in a moment of husband awareness that every word I spoke to him was meant for myself. I apologized and began noticing my pattern of self-awareness through projection.  This is not a quality value nor an endearing trait. I was being a real asshole.

I listened to my advice I gave out so freely to friends, my family, the world. Every word had my own beliefs wrapped inside safely and delicately and was delivered to the wrong recipient. I have to stop talking to become self aware, and with that glaring obvious detail, I wrapped up cozy in a blanket of self and observed.  I did not even know what the problem was arising, but I felt my third eye opening, and it felt like salt water on a wound. Somewhat painful, somewhat delightful. What I want to be reality is a persona of Peggy, walking around and letting the world’s problems roll off the shoulders like a Buddhist practice in understanding and empathy. Instead, my anger would build and build and my response was in the form of an explosion.

I began to observe my habits like a psychological experiment. I monitored (through my FitBit) the variables that contributed to the anger feeling. How much sleep was I getting? How much exercise? What is my BPM when I get the warning signal that my patience is about depleted? What did I do in those times of emotional distress? The answers were pointed.

I need more sleep, I cannot talk to anyone after 113 BPM with a logical brain (therefore, I take a 5 min time out to breathe and return to resting BPM), I need 1.5 hours a day for workouts and hygiene. I need to eat clean (no unnatural sugars).  The questions and the answers were simple enough, but bringing self awareness to these habits helped me to make decisions concerning my own “treatment” plan.

I also learned that Full Moon and my emotions are directly linked. I have been studying this data for 1 year now, and I believe a nice cave is needed when a full moon is in play. This is the time when I need to be especially nice to myself. I listed comforts on little sticky notes and placed them around my work place as a reminder.

My moods are directly linked to frustration out of lack of planning. A simple meal plan quells my soul. The food nourishes, the exercises builds strength and self esteem and is a natural anti-depressant. I need to take better care of  myself.

This exercise in self-awareness was beautiful and I truly thank MeanRuthie for the blog prompt.

In order to be, we must practice.

Child

I am perpetually immature. I don’t seem to engage with people my own age very often. I have dear friends who are older than me and I tend to feel daughterly with them. This speaks to my mommy issues, I suppose. I feel the need to please them and bask in their praise. They may not be much older than me, but I count on their wisdom and seek their approval. I often feel childlike in their presence.

It seems that most of my friends are actually much younger than me. With them, I find myself being Mama Bear. Again, mommy issues. As my value lies in how well I care for my kids, I feel buoyed by them seeking my advice. I enjoy feeding, nurturing and caring for my young friends. I also feel less concerned with my behavior in their presence, and at times act like a child.

Now, I have only just realized this about myself, and find it curious. Does this mean that I only allow myself to be vulnerable with people when I’m acting in another role? Perhaps. It makes absolute sense that I would employ a defensive shell and revert to infantile behavior to protect my emotions.

Are these behaviors healthy? I don’t know, but I am certain growth only occurs with some measure of discomfort. So, I am going to reach out to my friends that are my own age because it’s more difficult. They really know me best and have known me the longest. With them I feel more exposed and can’t help but compare our lives, which always makes me feel inadequate. I know this is only in my mind, not theirs. It is an old, familiar, nagging beast that puts me down and makes me feel like a child. It is decidedly not healthy if I choose to listen.

Self Awareness

In light of all of the wonderful recent blogs about self-worth, I thought, why not explore this a little bit further. For me, increasing the awareness of myself, my responses, actions, and emotions has been instrumental to me having a more rounded idea of my self-worth.

Now we can talk about self-awareness, self-help, and all of the other ideas, readings, and resources out there, but for me, none of it really started to make sense until I explored my personality. I was always under the impression that personality was based mostly on learned/conditioned traits. However, over the last 4 years, I have spent some time discovering me through a path first brought to me as part of a staff building exercise while working in Hospice. The goal of the meeting was merely to scratch the surface of the subject to raise awareness that we all think, act, respond differently based on more than just our environment, education, religious (or other beliefs).

The basis of the exploration was a quick personality test based on the enneagram theory. There are many websites that you can pay your monies to in order to take a test. I suggest the free website listed here…. http://www.9types.com/newtest/index.php you can hit the link if it works, copy and paste the text, or simply google 9 types new test. This is a short questionnaire that gives fairly accurate results. There is also an option for the “RHETI” at the top of the page, this is a sample of a longer test, but I have found the results of both to be the same for me. I have to honestly say I have taken the test more than once and when I am in different frames of mind, or feeling off kilter. Down in a depressed darkness or on top of the world, my results were the same. The numbers in the boxes varied a bit, but the trend was always the same.

After taking the test, you may feel confused, or like it certainly must be wrong. I know I did. It tells me my type and I was like heck no, I’m a 2. A nurse, caring and nurturing… hahaha *mischievous grin* well I do have those qualities, but with further exploration I realized the accuracy of this little test was slightly scary. Scary, but also awesomely intriguing. Before jumping to conclusions, spend some time in reflection. Although I do not know each one of you closely, I have had several friends, my kids, and even talked my boy toy into taking the test.

Deeper exploration brings you to understand additional concepts: The Centers, Wing, Levels of Development, Directions of Integration and Disintegration, and more. I have done some work with the wing, centers, and directions of integration and disintegration concepts, but have not really looked much further. The concept of the three instincts is what I have been reading on most recently. When you are ready, here is a link with some additional information that I have found handy:https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/how-the-enneagram-system-works/ Now, let’s not leave out the most trusted source on the internet…. Wikipedia, which boasts a nice chart with lots of information all laid out by searching Enneagram of Personality.

I’m interested in hearing about your discoveries about yourself and ways that you practice self-awareness. I look forward to hearing your voices about other ways that have lead you to personal awareness or what the term “self-awareness” means to you.

As your mind starts its pathways and another extension of the story of you begins to form, I will leave you with this statement. To me it reflects what I am attempting to achieve, not only to know myself better, but to be able to put that knowledge into action. ** Self awareness is having a clear perception of your personality, including strengths, weaknesses, thoughts, beliefs, motivation, and emotions. It allows understanding of other people, how you are perceived, and your attitude and responses to them in the moment**

Self Worth and Parenting

Today is the day that my family and I have been waiting for and dreaming about. I expected to wake up with an excited outlook and a feeling of joy. Instead I awoke with the usual feeling of anxiety; worrying to excess about anything and everything all at once. Some days I’m able to push it aside, ignore the nagging thoughts, and function in denial. Some days I’m able to rise above the constant chatter in my brain. I thought today would easily be a “best day ever” kind of day, however it hasn’t started that way.

Last night my daughter called me upset, asking if she could be self-sabotaging herself. We both suffer from chronic migraines and she had convinced herself that somehow she was causing her headaches. I asked if she had stayed away from triggers like sugars and carbs and she recalled that was all she’d eaten the last couple of days. This realization only intensified her feelings of guilt. I told her of course it’s not her fault. It took forty five minutes to dissuade her from these ideas. I even had to pull out the tough-love card and told her she was feeling sorry for herself, which was very difficult for me. As I was telling her to rise above these persuasive voices that fuel her anxiety, I realized that I should be telling myself the same things, “You are not self-sabotaging and it’s not your fault.”

My intention now is to rise above the voices in my head that say “You don’t deserve to feel hopeful or happy.” I’m going to tough-love the hell out of myself. If things don’t go the way I expect or desire, I won’t worry about it. I’ll just roll with it and not feel sorry for myself. I won’t allow myself to think I have the power to self-sabotage. I will thank my daughters for the lessons I learn from them every day and while I can’t promise that today will be a “best day ever”, I will certainly give it my best shot.

Seeds of Self Worth

I am five years old and hiding in the closet, the baby safely hidden in a bottom drawer; waiting for the shouting and screaming to get quieter, to know how long to stay hidden. And finally, loud knocking on the front door and a man yelling my name, promising it’s safe to come out. I peek around corners cautiously as I make my way through the broken glass and wood. Then I see the man in the small window of the door up high. A kind smile and “Open the door, Honey. It’s ok now. We’re going to take you to your mommy, ok? Just unlock the door, Honey.” I open the door and men in uniforms rush past me. “Where is the boy?” Strong arms are lifting me. Shock and terror are preventing me from being able to speak, unable to tell them where I hid my brother. Now I am being rushed out of the broken house into the night and Daddy is there with the men with guns. I hear him saying, “Where’s my Camels?” He sees me and is crying and shouting at me “Baby, don’t let them take me. Daddy’s so sorry.” I’m being carried to the neighbors where I can hear Mommy screaming. I’m put in bed with her and she’s still crying and screaming for Johnny.

“My baby, where’s my baby?” The wailing is as scary as the yelling and hitting only moments ago. I just want everyone to be quiet. It’s so loud. Her clinging to me is oppressive, and I want to be back in the soldier’s arms. My inherent need to survive is what led me then and from that, a seed of self-worth was planted. Are survival and self-worth the same thing or is one born from the other? I was able to protect myself and my brother. That time. Not because I felt worthy, but because I had the primal instinct to survive. I think that the deliberate act of survival is self-worth in its truest form. If I am worthy of saving myself, then I have value.

I thought I had very little self-worth. I thought my low self-esteem and general dislike of my face in the mirror were the truth. I thought I was an ugly coward. I was simply breathing and waiting..to not. Only forty-eight and already so tired, the best experiences in my rear view mirror. I am too young for health problems, no longer contributing to society in a meaningful career, and a wax figure of a mother, no longer necessary for my children’s survival. The distinction between worth and self-esteem is necessary because one is truth and the other is what I have created in my mind. I have to remind myself of that. I have worth, I have value. I am loved. So the real question is; why am I so determined to take away any value I might have? Because of my failures? Why am I so quick to erase my worthiness? Because I’ve been hurt? The lies I’ve told myself keep me quiet and subdued, unable to answer. The voice that says “you’re an ugly, no good, piece of shit” was born to protect me, to remind me to stay hidden until it’s safe to come out.

For a long time, I thought someone else needed to save me to prove my worth. I searched every face for a glimmer of kindness; I looked outside of myself for someone, anyone, to value me. I went to bars alone and went home with men I didn’t know. I did so many needy things that I am ashamed of. I let myself get hurt time and time again. I was vulnerable and broken. It was like the flower I grew from a seed. I stayed in that shameful place for a very long time, not knowing that the seed of survival was germinating and every time I was abused it grew stronger. Each stress to the plant, every time the dog stepped on it or I forgot to water it, made it impervious to the blights, and strengthened its roots.

Recently, I had to tap into that well of strength, revisiting my childhood. Buried emotions rose to the surface and overflowed. I found myself sobbing, wailing, and slobbering in the fetal position. I didn’t eat or sleep and I cried so hard I threw up and wet my pants. I would catch myself in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the swollen, lined face I saw. I expected to see a child’s wide eyed face looking back. The reflection I saw filled me with pity, sadness, and dread. What I thought was ultimate weakness and my sanity saying “I’m out” was, in reality, a brief, intensive, grieving period. I had terrorizing nightmares when I could sleep, with old monsters visiting, and real monsters occupying my waking thoughts. I was irrationally afraid all the time. The phone ringing, a text message, or dogs barking sent me through the roof. Then my old friend, Self-Worth showed up and it changed.

I told Kristy I was sorry for what happened to her and it wasn’t her fault. I told her she was loved and worthy and innocent and pure, and that I would protect her at all costs. I told her she was not alone and I honored her and her brother’s memory. I got angry at all the predators, abusers, victimizers and bad guys who prey on the hurt and weak. I took action and said NO. I talked to my children, I reached out to my family, I found a way to reconcile the past. I reached out for help and let myself be vulnerable. In doing so, I gained a confidante, another supporter, and found out I’m not alone. I became a survivor, when I used to be a victim.

Like a seedling stretching towards the sun, I have grown stronger. My roots are deep and I won’t be stomped on or crowded out. This flower will bloom! And it will be glorious.

 

“I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you, and that you will work with these stories… water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

MY WORTH

The prompt is: what is your worth?

Personal worth in my mind: The search for the never ending answer or confirmation that our being on this planet is valued, our existence not merely a waste of emotions, validation that who we are matters at least to ourselves. Our worth. More specific to this blog “MY WORTH”. I put it in shouty caps to help myself remember the impact for my own state of mind. I think that the worth of a person is multifaceted. Like a diamond, we may have many sides, reflecting light from many aspects, while holding the same value. I certainly feel that my self-worth affects all parts of my life differently.
Interesting topic and right on time for recent events in my life. I have spent a lot of time lately identifying what I’m not. I’m not a housewife. I’m not a maid. I’m not a personal manager, laundry keeper, cook, financial adviser, etc…. I’M NOT! However in this frame of mind I think I have forgotten what I am. I am a mother. I am a girlfriend. I am a daughter, aunt, sister, friend, a nurse, etc. In those roles I find my worth and they all accompany in some aspect all of those things I was so focused on the “not”.
My most important role in my focus is that of a mother. My worth here is huge. MONUMENTAL! For I am helping to shape the lives of 2 humans that will ultimately have to survive without me at some point. Preparation for the world has 2 sides. How they interpret the way the world affects them and what their effect is on the world in return. My worth as a mother is to teach them how to act, how to respond, how to care for themselves, the list goes on and on. It’s not just the teaching of the how to’s but giving them sense of self as well. Allowing them to feel valued and learn to value themselves. (Being a parent is tough) I feel that this is not only my most important role, but where I find my biggest worth. From the time they were little and I seen they had used manners in an appropriate setting (even if they were fuckhouse crazy the second we got home) to them now as young adults managing their lives with jobs, doing their own laundry, cooking, and just being generally good people. It fills my sense of worth, elevates my self-esteem to watch my boys propel through life.
Instead of moving onto another role in life and how it is reflected in my worth, I think its noteworthy to discuss a little bit of how I came to value myself. Though still a constant work in progress, it started a long time ago when I was down on me for being chubby and hating my weight. I struggled with an eating disorder and swore to myself I was more than the number on my scale or on the tag of my clothes. I started by refusing to get on the scale. I went over 3 years with no clue as to what I weighed. In that time, I learned to better love my body and myself. I stopped wearing make up Mother’s day 2015, have only wore it once since which was later that fall. What was my real purpose for wearing it in the first place? I always felt different and not always good. So fuck it, I haven’t put a single little bit of make up on my face for well over 2 years. Has not worrying about my weight or wearing make up had negative effects? Maybe at first. But…. BUT!!!! I soon realized that the effects I was looking for weren’t what I needed. I didn’t need any man to think I’m sexy because of my weight or how my make up looked. I had more to offer. And to some men, I’m crazy sexy. To other, not so much. Really the factors of my physical appearance would have similar results… the difference, I believe it now. I still have more to offer. My boyfriend has only seen me with make-up in pictures. Never in real life. This thought also goes to my career. My looks and my weight bear no difference to my role as a nurse. Feeling confident in my skin and my knowledge however does on both accounts.
All of the other above roles friend, sister, daughter, etc… all are greatly treasured and while I find value in my roles, it is the value in myself that leads me there. My time is important to me. I am there for those who need me, but not unnecessarily. When I say I am going to do something, I do it (on most accounts). I hold my friends to the same worth and values that I hold myself to. Kindness, compassion, honesty, openness, respect, accountability….. those are some things that make up my worth to myself. Just a few of the things I strive to carry with me in all aspects of my life. In all my roles. My worth is not something I will work to convince someone else to see or feel or know. It will happen naturally if they are able to perceptive to it. What is ultimately important is how I perceive myself. Can I look at myself in the mirror, not just at my face, but look myself in the eyes? Am I proud of the person I am? Do I see my value in my family, in my community? Most days, yes I do, most days. There was a time in my life where I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, my sense of self worth shattered, my allowance of my value to depend on the opinion of someone else. Its on those days where I don’t see these things in myself, that I find value in others to help bring me back to myself.
I am the opinion of my worth that matters. I work to remember this!

Self Worth

I felt like I was drowning for the longest time, trying to be a mom, a good friend, great daughter, for a time the sweet little perfect wife, and once that fell apart I have even attempted to be a good partner to a couple of men. All the while I always felt like a part of me was always being devalued and missing. I was being swallowed in a pool of everyone else’s expectations of what my worth was to them.

 

I realized in my late thirties that I was missing the huge fucking point in the game of life, I was missing my own mother fucking self worth. I have given and given so much of myself that I was left devalued and empty, from my sexuality to my own emotional well being. So I decided to do something solely just for me.

I did my very first Boudoir photo shoot, I stepped so far outside my comfort zone that I almost thought that I lost my own damn mind. But let me tell you the moment I saw those pictures it was like the self worth bomb went off in my brain. I finally for the first time in my life saw myself as a strong confident and sexy woman. From that moment forward my life started changing and it has not stopped since last April.

My pictures hang on my bedroom wall as a daily reminder that I am a sexy badass woman. I buy lingerie for no man but for myself. Most days I have lace underwear on simply because I like knowing that under my scrubs I have some sexy ass bra and panty set on and it helps me walk a little taller and yeah my little half smile on my face might be simply because  I have something naughty on under my clothes. Who knows its my little secret.   

I am learning that my self worth is knowing fully that I am strong, independent,fiercely sexy and beautiful woman in my own right. My beauty comes from the way I carry my confidence, it is how I smile even though I have been broken down multiple times and I still choose to live and I am willing to give my heart over and over.I know that I am worthy of love from a man and that my time is valuable, and so is my respect, trust, and my sexuality.

I am taking pride in getting up early everyday and going to the gym and pushing my body and making it look better, for no one but myself, but along with that comes the pride in wanting to look good, I am doing my hair more… like holy shit I am actually styling it again and even went as far and having extensions put in and this woman has long hair again for the first time in over fourteen years! I am taking more time with my makeup and have started wearing my perfume again,

Yes for me my self worth is tied into myself love, and self confidence and my sexuality but for fucks sake I don’t care. It’s all a package deal for me. I am in my late thirties and I am in full bloom. I am finally becoming the woman I have always meant to be, I am a strong, confident, sexy badass beautiful woman worthy of all the love and beauty this world has to offer. Who the fuck wouldn’t want to be with a Badass like me? Because baby I am Fucking worth it! I own it I am a mother fucking Queen! And that is Self Worth. Knowing it Owning it and Showing. I don’t need a partner its a want. I am just fine all on my own.  

Fear And Sadness

It has been awhile since I have had to reflect on the emotion of sadness, life has been pretty good recently. While I am not saying that there have not been moments of doubts or fears but for the first time in years I have not experienced sadness or depression on a regular  basis. Maybe it’s because I have finally found an inner peace and I have cleared the toxic relationships out of my life.

On the other hand I do experience fear on a regular basis and that can easily lead to sadness. The fear comes from not knowing if I will ever have the one thing that I have always desired and wanted more than anything, its the ache in my heart and soul that I would give anything to have filled. Even as I type this my eyes are filling with tears and they are streaming down my face.

 

See it’s the one fucking thing in my life that I can not control, force or really do a mother fucking thing about. It’s having someone in my life to share it with a partnership, that ultimate relationship, that I think every soul on this planet craves.  I have been so broken, and beaten down mentally and emotionally in the past that now as I have gained self love and found my self worth that I am unwilling to just settle ever gain.

 

I am loving all that the universe has brought into my life so far in this journey of new self discovery and ultimate happiness, but there are nights where I sit alone in my room with my headphones in listening to music and I allow all the dark thoughts of self doubt and fear of being alone for the rest of my life to creep in, and in those dark moments I don’t just cry a tear or two I sob. We are talking full on ugly crying here.  For I know that if I don’t give myself a chance to let it out it will build and fester like a dark poison that will slowly creep through my heart and make me a jaded and bitter woman.

 

So I sob, I let out all the pain and fear on those nights, all the doubts and stupid self hate that I know is not true is to let it go. Still I cry it’s not easy letting it all go in these moments. See on nights where I let the fear grip me like this I don’t reach out to my friends or family to get reassurance that “Oh yes, your time will come” bullshit. I don’t need a fucking ice cream cone.  No, I take these moments to still my body and let all the negative thoughts flow like the oceans tides  through my mind.

 

I am learning to find my own strength and self worth and love through these nights. With each negative thought I force myself to find a positive to it. I am making the choice to change my own mental outlook on not only my own damn self but on life, love and relationships. The most interesting thing about that change is my own outlook on things is that its starting to fully reflect back on my life from the inside out and my entire life is starting to change in ways that I never thought possible.

 

My life was once in black in white and I feel like I am coming out in technicolor a vivid and bright. I’m  taking it all a day at a time and enjoying every moment that life has to offer me. I know that my heart’s deepest desire is going to happen one day soon, I can feel it with vibrating deep within me, simply due to knowing  I have an open heart and open hands when it comes to that. And a view of what you think about your bring about. I have some weak moments where I break down and cry, but that’s okay, even with the fear I know I will rise. So the sadness does not bother me. I can face it with an acceptance of an old friend, whom I need to have a conversation with once in a while.

emotions and….. sadness???? Whats that?

Many times in my life I was sad. Ive spent years depressed    years sad.  Sad little strawberry.

As a young woman everyone expressed emotions in my home regularly.

we rarely used words or descriptions. conversations were null and void. My mother would disappear for a week smoking dope and fucking her husband in hotels and lavish Seattle homes of dealers ( the high life). then sleeping it off for three days while us kids figured it out. We would see her at random times  screaming about anything. whether it was because I hadn’t cleaned enough or because she thought my step dad wanted to fuck the girlfriend I had over for the evening she would just scream and spit and choke people.  My step dad expressed his emotions by  Playing guitar loudly through the nights and beating my moms ass when she offended him by accusing him of mis stepping. Surely she was off her rocker!!.  ( because it wasn’t my girlfriend he was fucking it was me.)

My family expressed emotion as long as it could be felt DEEPLY.  it was normal for us to fight.  I remember blackening my baby sisters eye for not cleaning the bathroom properly .  I remember the hurt look in her eyes.  she said, ” I thought that you loved me” then she cried and went to tell someone safe, an adult, who looked at me and said, ‘ nice right hook!”.   the ” adult” agreed with my actions.  Afterall mom ( his girlfriend)  was gone and somebody had to clean the house. with 4 kids in it she would freak had I not kept everyone in line.

. I felt right…

I was pissed.

a few hours earlier my moms cousin had had me pinned in my bed with a syringe in hand insisting I fuck him for my moms fix. I had run into the living room and sat down on the couch behind her while she watched cartoons hoping he would leave me alone.   he sat next to me and whispered in my ear. ”  If you say anything to me now your sister will see what I’m doing to you.”  he slipped his hands down the back of my pants and finger fucked me. stating that if I sat still she wouldn’t have to see.

he expressed his emotion while I took it in. I let him do what he wanted so the baby didn’t have to be exposed.

Of course later when she couldn’t just clean the bathroom like I asked…. I acted out…. rarely were real emotions expressed.. Anger, rage, control……

lets get to the point

there was no room for crying then. and after years of crying and yelling around as an adult I realized I was just like my mother.  I cry by myself now in my own presence  where I am safe.    I cry   when there is time and it usually doesn’t take long.       I also tend to cry with people when they have stories similar to mine, when they need permission to be sullen before we build a fortress.

I have no depression. nobody makes me do anything I don’t want to.  I enjoy my tears they keep me from making bad decisions and blackening the eyes of those whos heart would break knowing that my love can sometimes be dark.   I love to take my space and cry alone. I enjoy my sadness when i get to have it for myself  and turn it into what makes me strong. I use it to jog, workout, do better in my work , make plans , travel, be happier than what I was handed and to see the good in everything I live for now.

there isn’t much to be sad about  anymore.

“Closed for Inventory. Happy New Year”

I drive by this sign twice a day at least. And every time I think… Self, you know you could use to do some inventory. I need me time, silence, no one to worry about, just even for a couple hours. I found it on Saturday by a innocent miscommunication and a fucked attitude. Lately, I have been finding complete silence and solitude to be very rewarding, even if its just the 30min drive home from work. But I needed more so that I could delve deeper inside my head, welcome my thoughts of personal successes and failures from the past year. I should start small, knowing that my attitude needed to be addressed but that would need to wait. One of the first things I realize is that this whole being inside my head, alone, in silence, isn’t nearly as scary as it used to be. There was a time years ago where I wouldn’t go inside my head alone, it wasn’t safe in there. My thoughts were destructive. Not necessarily to me physically, but most definitely emotionally. I could cut myself down harder than anyone else was capable of. I soon came to realize that the things I would say to myself and the thoughts I had we’re not really that of my own. I want to know me better than anyone else and to love myself unconditionally. Work in progress.

My attitude has been brewing for a couple days. Relationships are hard and mine is less than perfect. I left the house Sat morning for my tattoo appointment with it in full effect. My attitude that is. I don’t slam doors, yell, or make a scene anymore. I just let the steam circulate in my head, stirring my thoughts furiously. I grab one once in a while and ponder it before letting it back to join the others as they race around my mind. The silence allows me to not be distracted by lyrics to a song that may influence my mind, for good or bad. It’s just me and the road, and the pressure cooker in my head. The drive to federal way is nice and long and I am excited for my session today. I fill up at the Longhouse, grab some snacks and hit the pavement.
The main reason for my attitude is being alone on the road. My bf usually joins me for the trip cuz “we like spending time together” ha and some of our trips he has had an appointment at the same time. I’m stewing because he didn’t come this time because his shoulder hurts, he doesn’t feel like riding that far…. And whatever else. But I recall that he said earlier in the week that he likely wasn’t going to go with me, he’s gonna hang out with the guys. Now don’t get me wrong, I know how petty and selfish this sounds. But with the appropriate background, you would realize that to me, it seems he has “other plans”. It seems premeditated. For the past month, he has had all day during the week to hang out with the guys, his best good friend on vacation the whole last week. The weekends are my time. And with his history of unfaithfulness, my mind is reeling. BUT I hate these thoughts and as I am processing them I am realizing that I am letting them control my mind, my temper, giving the power of my temper to someone else. My phone is on silent, my kids old enough to not worry about, and I work on letting go. Letting go of the thoughts that are driving me insane. Letting go of the fact that history can repeat itself, but will it? Letting go.
I’ve had a problem letting my walls down when it comes to relationships and I don’t plan on starting now. This makes letting go a lot easier. I paint a nice picture for everyone to see when they look our direction. I realize this isn’t new for me, but I paint anyways. This time the reasons are so very different. I’ve been reading about dissociation and think that maybe part of my walls are from a lifetime of disconnecting myself. I haven’t done enough reading on this to bring my theory to actuality at this point, but it’s developing. As the drive goes on I decide that even though the reason for my tude is a prominent part of my life, I have other things, bigger things. Like my kids and my career. I decide maybe it’s time to do “inventory” here, relationships can come and go, but my kids and work will always be a part of me.
I took account of my role as a mother first. I am incredibly proud of what my children are accomplishing in life but am struggling a little bit with the transition from a parent of children to a parent of adults. In 11 short months, both of my boys will be considered “adults”. Scary, right? I don’t spend a lot of time on this but make a point to acknowledge how tough it is and that I need to be kind to myself and my boys at this unique part of the journey. I used to wonder what happens when the kids move out, now I fear the outcome. I miss them already.
My work. I made a big change in 2016. I left my job with hospice after 3 years for uncertainty in the form of old people and a heavy med cart. It felt like a huge step backwards in my career, but I had my reasons for leaving. I’ll discuss these at a later time. I knew I couldn’t stay in long term care and when they offered me a permanent daytime position, I turned it down and started hunting. Landing my current job provided me with a new opportunity for learning and personal and professional growth. Over the last calendar year I have worked hard and self propelled myself into the world of cancer and the associated care that comes with Medical Oncology. I am blessed in my career.
My day only gets more interesting when I show up for a noon appt and realize I’ve scheduled myself at 4 pm. 4 hours in the city…to myself… What will I do? A few drinks, some window shopping, and driving around aimlessly, that is what I fill my time with. Make it back for my appointment and am refreshed by 2 1/2 hours of my newest form of release. I am comfortable and satisfied in that chair, my skin exposed, hilarious “hardcore” -sometimes raunchy conversation between all the guys in there fills the empty spaces in my thoughts. Funny how they’ve let their guard down and become themselves after knowing I am not easily offended. I find relief in the ink being set in my skin. I spend considerable time with my eyes closed, inside my head, comfortable. The drive home uneventful, I even turn the radio up and sing obnoxiously loud, I feel brand new. I don’t know what other people do to free themselves when life fills them with stress and angst, I used to yell, scream, throw things, drive recklessly, etc. Now, I save my pennies and plan my next session of art. Tattoo. It works for me for now.
I’m sure the mental inventory will continue as the month progresses, there’s always more “me” work to be done, but for the end of 2017 and the start of 2018, I think I’ve done my share.
I know this year will bring it’s share of lessons, I look forward to them, good or bad. Welcome 2018.

The eve of the new year

I sat reading my horoscope last week. Being relieved to read that it’s in the stars and ok that I have not yet found myself in the cold ,deep ,dark of the self.  I remembered almost suddenly that feeling  I need and worried. “How can I make myself experience this dark night of the soul? That sweet relieving feeling just before I release it for the coming year?”

As I woke the eve of the eve. Just a light spread over and I realized my intention without ritual, had been answered.  That day my anger was present but it was a laughable little anger. The  anger my partner had stated to me in a laughing smile for over 3 months. I texted her immediately.  “I owe you an apology.   I am so sorry ive allowed others to decide who i am and how I relate to you ”   she thanked me , of course, as real queens do when you’ve really done nothing for them and they have patiently waited for you to catch up.

I was met with love when I returned home.   A clean house, a well heated bathroom with the hot bath set, candles, the best washcloth in the house, the good razor, good shampoo was brought, cashmere robe, tea was warm and optional,  and a hot americano….all waiting.   The house was empty……ahhh my bedroom smelled like cinnamon…..  A note in the phone stated there was water in the freezer and to please drink it…

This was all in preparation for a noon massage from a woman I was gifted who could only be described as an earth goddess. The woman danced around my body wisking away  loads of yuck… as she pushed the blackness from my body she related and reminded me where I wanted to be with smells in the air  and contours in her face when I was brave enough to peek up at her work. My wife sent me to the most beautiful woman she knew to clean me up  on a Sunday afternoon. On the eve of this new year. I went home sick as fuck. Was put back to bed, fed whatever I opened my mouth to ask for and allowed to sleep or wake throughout the night without any complaints or disruption….  Surely, I have chosen my best friend.   This woman knows  what’s best for me.  I was thankful.

I woke early on the morning of the new year.  About 4 Am ( i think)   my wife, my best friend, turns toward me slowly…  “we didn’t make it to the water to be with the moon like you wanted. Should we go now?”

“Yes, if your willing”

We promptly set out to bundle up. Into the car and being our awkward selves fumbeled about around what water was best and setteled on the idea that to go to them all would suffice.   As we pulled up to salt creek her voice became quiet and my mother spoke .   How blessed I was to hear her immediately! The mother earth lulled me in with her song and assured me she had her message waiting.  I was immediately  comforted.

My wife took her space back by the rocks.  And I was let to do what I needed. It had been moths since I asked properly to have my struggles and questions answered.  The wind. The trees. Their perfect placement, how playful.  The water across the way.  The moon .   My mother, my brothers and sisters harmonizing the truth to me in Whimsical statements. AHHHHH I love you!!   ” look around, your the only one not joining in.” The chaos was big the waves sounded over here the trees talking behind me.  The rocks so loudly still. The vibration of it all! And here I am fighting it.   She whispered,” do not fear what noise others make. Just make sure you are singing your mothers song”.    My tribe is of earth warriors. Fiercely fighting for her ways.  Perhaps I got lost and have forgotten what side I’m on.   She sang,”we prefer that you sing with us”….” of course they want to ruin but you know they cant hurt you,and SHE surely wont try. Lol Carmen they can’t fuck with you as you so angrily say” like a baptism inside of a lotus I am clean… ready to fight with the dance…

Eyes closed. Black gone.
I walk back to my partner. She spins tales of being one with the universe. And mentions fear and hate.  We have this conversation all the way home. And she reminds me who I am.

We spent that day  playing like 5 year olds, and cooking like mothers. We cleaned like medicine women,danced like warriors, and fucked like animals.

Last night after we were all snuggled into the night. She smiled at me  cuddled into my arms,looked up and whispered,”Your my best friend”

I just want to thank my mother for reminding me that to dance with her is to really live.  And my partner who will feed me what I need…  I plan to thank them fiercely…

Knowing what you Want

Sometimes I wondered if I would ever get that light bulb moment in regards this whole relationships thing. After my divorce ,which was almost nine years ago, I was on some sort of contrived mission to find me again and to eventually meet that person to be my partner for life, that supposed ride or die, or the other half to build a life together and all that romantic bullshit nonsense that fills our heads from books, movies and other places in life.

Yet here I am two failed relationships later, in which both came close to marriage in at least that we talked in depth about taking that plunge into the spending our lives together in some form of commitment.  The first seemed like it was going pretty good up until the point where we suffered a loss that was hard for either of us to verbalize our grief .As we went through a miscarriage we started to slowly fall apart. That break up was hard for my heart as I still loved that man so much and when we split the circumstances were ones where I had hard lines drawn and we had to go our separate ways.

The next relationship seemed like  potential good. There were some issues but we started out as best friends and it just flowed into something more. Then after two years it all imploded on us like a bomb that had been ticking (maybe it was both of our bipolar mental states combined with his addictions) but it was an explosion that we did not survive. See, I choose the path of help and I got stronger by seeking medical attention and counseling for my mental health. Along with my continued growth physically with my OCR’s I was changing and becoming healthy and strong all the  while he was willing to stay stuck in his addictions. The final blow came when the emotional and mental abuse started and I was done.. I had to protect my daughter , my mom, and myself.  So I made him leave after four years of togetherness.

Now I am at a point where I am seriously thinking about seeing people again. There comes a point where that thought crosses my mind ‘is it me? am I that fucking damaged? am I that difficult to be with, that a lasting relationship isn’t possible since I have three failed ones under my belt now?’ Then I have to give myself a mental bitch slap, and a hard one at that.  As it has dawned on me, yes I played a part in each of my past relationships and in how they grew and eventually fell apart but so to did my partners, whether it was cheating,abusive behaviors, addictions, growing apart or other circumstances that caused the separations, as adults both partners played a part in the relationships.

Thus I have this to take away from these past relationships, for one they are not failures in each one I grew as a person and as a woman, each partner taught me new lessons, one gave me the greatest gift of motherhood, one gave the gift of enjoyment of going out and being social with my partner, the other taught me that I can be in a relationship and still do my own thing and still grow. They taught me that even in the aftermaths of the breakups you can still find it possible to love and care about someone.  There is forgiveness in time and distance from the pain and hurt even if that time has only been a few month or if its been years.

I have figured out the things that I will tolerate and those which I will not in a relationship, I know that I want a partner who is willing to integrate into my life and be apart of my groups of  friends and supports my dreams and goals, one who is loving towards my family, just like I would expect them to want me to be and do the same for and with them.  I require a partner who can handle that I am a strong and independent woman, I have been a single mom now for 10 years even when I was in relationships I never stepped out of the single mom role and I won’t until I have made that total commitment to someone who can fully be my partner and I know they have my back fully.

I have come to the realization that it is going to take an equally strong partner to be with me, a person who has the same ability to rise and grind to meet their goals while motivating me to meet mine and having me do the same for them while meeting my goals and yet still have the capability to reach for common goals together as partners. Now for some this might seem like a huge task but I know for the right person it won’t be.  I want to take my time to get to know someone and enjoy the process of knowing them.  It’s not about moving in with someone quickly or getting that commitment as fast as possible, it’s about knowing a person and understanding them, its about finding out if we can make our damaged parts fit together and pack them away so we can move forward

Honestly at this point in our lives, I am in my late thirties who in the hell does not have a past and is not damaged in some way, we have to learn to make our broken bits fit together with our partners. Finding someone with no past and no damage is like finding a unicorn good luck and if you do send me a picture!

Here is to growing older, gaining some wisdom from age and being thankful of my past for its bringing to me a better future, and to possibly finally knowing what it is that I am looking for in a partner.

%d bloggers like this: