Purpose, Belonging, Direction

I read a quote today which has me weeping. I’m weeping all the time anyway just about over every single song and everything reminding me of all the love I have missed, all the love that was not recieved or welcome, all the love I failed to feel or effectively communicate, all the love I wished I knew. The love for my sons which has beeen fierce, loyal, protective and still not enough to keep them close to me. While loving me may not be easy, it will also be a wildly unpopular choice for them to make in the midst of their “family”. The quote says this:  I must lose myself in action lest I wither in despair. I am painfully (always the pain) aware of my hunger for a meaningful pursuit and direction and in that pursuit and direction, I may find a sense of belonging and connection and purpose to help me sew together the hours each day between the things which must be done. In those times between the things I’m required to do. I feel lost and distraught and I lie down … run down the clock of my life because I don’t know what else to do. This is a difficult way to exist -it’s humiliating and demoralizing to feel lost untethered all of the time.  Still, as I have my entire life. I have wasted my life trying to become or at least appear different, to be not me, so that maybe just maybe I could be worthy of connection and belonging. It was a requirement I could not meet. It destroyed me, like literally decimated my ability to self actualize. In these last five months of more than a hundred medical visits and medication’s – being physically and mentally disabled – feeling both adrenalized and paralyzed simultaneously- around the clock.  I have wanted to be dead. It’s all I’ve wanted – to get gone. Because I don’t have a purpose – I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a direction and I certainly don’t have anything or anyone to which I feel I belong. I did used to belong to a gym and my job and now, not even those. And for some months, I felt I belonged to and with him. Hearing these songs today felt crushing – The Goodness of God by CeCe Winans and LeAnn Rimes – How do I and Leann Rimes- I Need You and then another song called Fighting For Me, by Riley Clemons. Each of these songs –  about durable, and undeniable love; to count on and fall into, lean into, crash into – I’ve not had that – not from my mother or my father or sister, any member of my family,  certainly not from the man I married. And I feel like I experience this love now -but it is a lie. I have a relationship and I like to call it complicated but actually it’s not complicated. He once claimed to desire a future with me and now he does not.   He is my everything. He has loved me more and better than anybody has ever loved me. He listens, he hears, he comforts, he celebrates, he cheers me. He holds and shelters me. And I can’t imagine living without this. But at the same time, I’ve lived my whole life without it. I need him in ways which are unreasonable- or are they? He’s a best friend, he is family, he is my lover. He is my everything, but it is no longer mutual and I continue to hold on tight and he continues to let me.  I am working with therapistS and trying to resolve/reconcile my reality – the pain and the grief of this, and all of the trauma which launched me into this exact space that I am in.  I am working hard to heal my body, my mind, my spirit. How could I have possibly learned the things about myself- like what I like or what I’m good at or what would satisfy, nurture and fuel me? I must dig out that information – excavate it from beneath decades of trauma, betrayal, abandonment, the grief of never having been well loved, and taking that quite personally.  And the lie of believing I was unworthy and incapable. And now, I have this one person whom I love desperately (of course) and rely on – as my everything and I can’t fault him for not wanting me or this forever.  I also do not want me or this forever.  Who would? I have a lot to recover from. Why must Earth life be so difficult? THIS, according to my therapeutic team is tied to my negative core beliefs. I see how that could be. What a cycle. When people in my life collectively decided I’m “bad,” interpreting my struggles as evidence of my wrongness, they see inflicting more hardship as a natural consequence—reflective only of their own ego-driven need to punish, rather than insecurity or retaliation. This fkn cycle, where I am scapegoated – trapped in a constant state of hurt and disempowerment. Feling affirmed in that each difficult and painful thing is proof only of my badness.

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Just Shut Up

The messages from my family of origin were unmistakable: “We will not show empathy or understanding for your perspective. In response to what we perceive as distortions, we will only offer defense, attack, blame, and relentless conflict.” All I ever wanted to hear was: “Even if I can’t fix your grief or stress, I will bear it with you. Please, tell me more.” Instead, I encountered harsh objections to my requests for shared language/understanding, shattering any hope for healing or a path forward. Curiosity—rooted in courage, humility, and vulnerability—allows us to engage respectfully with perspectives that differ from our own. Curiosity is a choice to explore the unknown. We cannot be both right and curious at the same time. It is painful that so many prioritize appearing (feeling) infallible and in charge at all costs. A shame that this can be mistaken for strength. A need to appear strong feels symptomatic of fragility. The strength which impresses me is rooted in humility, curiosity, courage.

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I’m not angry. I’m overwhelmed.

It’s painful to recall being scolded in shaming ways during overwhelming moments: “Why are you so angry? Why are you so defensive? Why are you yelling?” I percieved but could not name the dissonance, the lack of understanding and interest in what I was going through and how I was reacting. Being diminished instead of receiving support, made me feel threatened/ angry and led to anxiety about my discomfort and the consequences. My inability to alter my instinctive reactions intensified my sense of hopelessness. The persistent dread of not being able to hide my sensitivity only added pressure to the demand to “lighten up” and “calm down”, as everyone insisted I should. My consistent experience within my family and marriage would unfold in this way: Feel overstimulated, be judged and shunned, become fearful, distressed, then angry(and ultimately be crucified for large reactions to unmanageable stress) My unique wiring (hypersensitivity/hyperarousal) and past trauma leave me vulnerable and fragile in ways that others may not grasp. I often experience shame and anxiety over my unremitting discomfort- or as it was frequently referenced “my thin skin”, which is not an inaccurate descriptor, but also was not said with love. The stress of otherwise uneventful happenings can overpower my nervous system- like things which others don’t notice, can be crippling to me. Having come from a family whom regularly minimized and belittled me, feeling disregarded, violated, and on edge—became my default state. As a now sensory smart and trauma informed adult, I do not expect others to accommodate my heightened sensitivity- my best option has been to isolate myself – to shield my nervous system from the stressors of life on earth (with others). Below are examples of how I am easily toppled by technically un-threatening sensory stimuli, which go un-noticed by most(or can be ignored): The sound of my dog licking, a light on in the hall which shines into my room, a repetitive sound, a wrinkle in my (made) bed that I can see from my desk when I am working. A tag in my shirt.  A strong smell.  Feeling too warm.  A piece of food caught between my teeth.  Each of these can send me immediately into dysregulation—fight or flight energy. My nervous system demands that I do anything to make it stop- to end the sensation. None of these stimuli are harmful; they overtake me rather than harm or even annoy me. Sensory overload, paired with emotionally charged interactions, crushes me and calls for days of self-care, in solitude, to process, release the energy, and regain basic functionality. I am now learning to manage in a world which is simply too much for me. Always has been. I am discovering ways to nurture, soothe, and safeguard myself. Some may find this enlightening, even interesting: Sensory defensiveness is a condition where someone has an extreme reaction to certain sensations, such as touch, sound, smell, or taste. People with sensory defensiveness may avoid or minimize exposure to these sensations, and may experience anxiety, behavioral changes, or emotional distress. Having to rely on or keep close proximity to those who will judge and punish has proven damaging 100% of the time.

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So Then

I worried that R would righteously skip the MRI and also not tell me. I checked location services and saw the O was home while W was not and asked O where his brother was. Our younger son informed me that W was on his way to MRI. This is how I get essential info. Sad sad sad for my boys. W texted me to report that he was home from MRI . I am grateful he was able to get the care he desrves and needs. Sunday made day 5 of the quarantine in which I had requested proof of negative test for R’s new gf of a few weeks, the one he leaves the boys for late at night on school nights, 25 miles away, asserting “it gives them independence”. Our sons literally cannot go outside without his permission and yet he claims that them being in bed at night with nobody close by for them if they need help— is an exercise in independence. Saturday night we received wintery mix of sleet and snow which continued throughout Sunday. Road advisory for people to stay home until roads warmed, but nope. Below are our Sunday morning texts (with the man who rages that I do only as I like with no logic, the man who waited 6 hours after W’s blackout concussion to get him medical attention, the man who did not tell me O had a URI and then encouraged him to run in cross country race in near triple digit temperatures, leaving him ill with wracking cough lasting more than 3 weeks, during pandemic) Saturday 9:15 am. Roads frozen. Sleeting and Snowing. R to M in family text: Maggie, I have urgent care appts for us at 10:45 and will drop boys off after, based on results. W– private text to me: Dad wont let me go out and play in the snow. Novant closed. Now racing from testing center to drug stores trying to buy home tests. M to family text: cringey emoji face and “driving conditions” R to M in family text: O tested positive. Doctor recommends sepearting them. What do you want to do? M to family text: Ugh. O needs to quarantine in his room at your house and W to remain with you. N95 masks when out of his room. All test again in 5 days and go from there. Link to cdc protocol for Caring for someone at home. M to family text: So W, R, and Tracy negative? W: Me and dad negative. Tracy and O positive. Silence. W prolly taking some heat for transparency and truth. Thank gawd it was O that tested positive because R and O and now Tracy also, like to treat W as the constant problem and hindrance– gaslighty and diminishing him- mostly his father though. Trying to reduce him to a more manageable size. I am still pretty shook by R’s escalating hostile and aggressive attacks of me, for the things which HE is and does. It is familiar crazy making, gaslighty and communicates: I am coming for you each time I feel inconvenienced or frustrated by your lack of compliance. I hate this for the boys. What a situation- shitty and totally avoidable. I am certain R is feeling both heroic and victimized by the consequences for his actions. If he would have stayed tf home on Tuesday night, none of this would even be a conversation. Maybe O got it at school and we would have dealt with it here. But, well….it did not go down like that. And I say this for my own sanity—I literally did nothing but claim my right and responsibility to avoid unnecessary exposure to Corona Virus. RE Narcissists: Anything communicated which fails to endorse, elevate, please, comfort, accommodate- for them- is a call to war. Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Catherine G Whitney For anyone whom I was ever harmful to…I hope this relieves or amuses you. I am getting mine. And learning from it, one day at a time.

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Wednesday Morning Text

R: I saw my girlfriend last night and she just learned she was exposed to Covid at work yesterday. I have already dropped O off at school I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do? Magda:  I’m not sure. What I do know is that we cannot disrupt the scheduled MRI this Saturday. Boys should stay with you for the next five days. Magda: When is she getting tested? If she is positive. You all need to quarantine. She should test immediately. If negative today I will also need confirmation of a negative result in five days before the boys may return here. So please plan to take him for MRI. R: so the state is OK with him being exposed everyone at school but just not you? And it’s OK with you to take W to an MRI as long as somebody else does it? Magda: I cannot help that our county is relaxed about masking and protocols. The Imaging center will ask questions about exposure and symptoms and decide how to proceed. R: this is actually you doing what you want with no logical thought process. Magda:  I think you may be describing yourself here. Leaving the boys late on school nights as you have been doing. R:  I assume this was some ridiculous way for you not to approve of what I do with them on my time. They don’t need me catering to them every night. It’s good for them to learn to be more independent. I’m not seeking your trust or approval anymore Maggie. I haven’t been since 2000 I haven’t been since 2010. Me to myself:   OK—-wtf is even happening? Magda: OK. Five days with proof of a negative test for Tracey at the end before they come home. You texted me you didn’t know what to do. So now you know.  I choose to avoid unnecessary possible exposure to Covid.  R:  As you know I meant there (I suspect he meant “their”) school. But hey keep making up random shit that suits you. Magda:  CDC protocol is not random. You get so unhinged when I have a boundary. Still. R:  Trying to tell me what I should be doing with them on my time is not a boundary. R: You criticised what I was doing. Magda:  In response to your attack on my logic, I suppose I did. My boundary is me protecting myself from possible Corona. And I literally never told you what to do outside of CDC protocol….because you asked. R:  Keep playing the victim, Maggie. Magda: LOL emoji.  Duuude, you always believe yourself to be the victim or the hero.  I do not feel victimized, at all.   R: The bold is a cute touch –laughing emoji. Magda:  Your anger is something. So Ragey at me when you are inconvenienced by your own choices and consequences. Always trying to punish, shame and blame. R:  Again, your opinion must be the truth. Magda: Regarding W’s MRI on Saturday medical imaging centers have mask protocol and will be fine doing the MRI unless he has tested positive, especially since he vaxxed. We don’t wear masks 24/7 around the house which is why the five days before return here. I was happy to take W to MRI. Mary Ann was joining, and Greg was taking O to the trails. None of this is my choice or my doing. No response.  I sure hope he will take our boy for an mri rather than being too busy feeling something unpleasant- for having chosen to run out late on a school night to go 25 miles away to see a woman he barely knows, because he is frantic- and that did not work out for anyone.   HE TEXTED ME to say he did not know what to do.  I shared CDC protocol and he escalated immediately to combat status.   This is the type of destabilizing exchange I am accustomed to with both him and my female sibling, WHEN THEY FEEL responsible for anything but their own joy.  Sadly, for my boys, this was a group text.  I need them to see the insanity.  They need to know this is insane and that it is not them.  This is what happens when you challenge or do a thing which makes a narcissist feel criticized or non-perfect. Totally judging tho: In more than six years, Sweet Greg and I have never left our boys at night, during or past bedtime, for any reason. I did try to beg him once, to sneak over while his son was asleep and he objected and I loved him more for knowing that it was a non-sane idea/plan. Recovery kept me on track in that exchange with his repeated attempts at diversion with straw man tactics. Non recovery leaves me aching to say unfortunate things to him. But me losing my shit or behaving badly is an example of the thing people were always trying to tell me “about gving or throwing my power away”. Now that I know better, I do better. I am not a victim. I have choices, even if they suck. My boys are the victims, as they have no good options for navigating or avoiding our tension. I bet my sister would smile fondly upon him if she could observe him fighting the same battle in the same ways. Desperate to force me to submission…. two peas in a pod, they are! CatherineGWhitney Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Fayetteville Academy

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There are Some Good Things

We live in a nice, cute & safe home, which I can afford. My boys are able bodied and minded and excellent in many ways. They are creative, strong, bright, fun, and funny as hell. We enjoy the stability and love of Sweet Greg and Favorite and her family for all of the special days, crises, and best of all – for the majority of ordinary days in between. Favorite and Sweet Greg remain unshakable sources of goodness and comfort and so much laughter. We also have the good fortune of a few great neighbors. I have satisfying work in which I feel increasingly competent and valued. I receive steady income, health insurance, paid time off for vacation and illness, things I went without for 7 difficult years, while caring for small and frequently ill children by myself without court ordered support. I have a program of recovery to guide me through the easy and the hard times—as I had been neither raised nor encouraged to effectively navigate the world. My older son will undergo a four hour MRI in 2 weeks, ideally to rule out MS. Without program wisdom and support, I would be utterly deranged over the implications and possibilities- a puddle on the floor over the fact that we (his father and I) will not support him similarly or together through whatever this may be. Recovery teaches and reminds me to live one day at a time, to surrender what I cannot control or know. While I still struggle to accept haaaard things, I at least am now able to accept the reality of them. The practice of acceptance, not the feeling. Like, I accept that there may be something amiss in my boy’s spine, something scary. AND I still feel the fear, only I dont spin my wheels trying to change, understand, or know what I cannot. Worrying and obsessing will change nothing about the outcome. I have faith that I will do whatever needs to be done and that I will not be alone. These are my miracles. I am not hopeless, helpless, or alone –as my FOO and boys’ father insisted and wanted me to believe. Fock, it always comes back to this. But seriously. I cannot help but marvel at initiatives to communicate, that I was wrong(in my being), invalid, discardable. The lies, the myths, the cycles, the impact of that: so much pain and anger with no place to put it or heal it– until I found the rooms and wisdom of recovery. And so, the healing continues. One day at a time I persist in the work of growing my capacity to love and be loved!

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Hallllp

WIATF?

Imagine a struggling child (or really any person) whose parent, in no uncertain terms, communicates how: “Nobody can or wants to relate or even to help build a bridge to that place where you are.” Subtext: You are bad and alone. You, by your own defectiveness and doing, are on the wrong side of the gap, which seperates you from US, “the royal we”. It is up to you, alone, to fix it, or deny and hide it, OR pay the price. But we will gladly welcome you at any time, once you have corrected your perceptions and feelings. We wish you the best, tho. Literally, this is how it was. And this is how it is for my son. His crime: feeling too much and failing to mask it for his King Baby of a father. What kind of people actively take measures to convey the message “You are unworthy, hopeless, and alone”? The broken kind with god-complexes– robbers of trust, hope, faith, self love, dignity, self esteem. The shit must stop. Parents and good humans build relational bridges not walls for children. Also, if you cannot be faithful allies for your young children, in this way…get some help for yourself. You ARE the PROBLEM. Just Ew. Yikes. Stop. A continuing rant… Why expect decency from those who show repeatedly that they are fundamentally incapable of showing up to engage in basic unearned kindness, self reflection & adjustment of themselves, humility, nurturing…? Same people…always claiming to be a vicitm or a hero. I am now firmly back at Step Zero. Thank gawd, I have twelve steps to guide me out of this, once I am in enough pain to become sufficently willing.

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It makes sense that I married a man opposed to any sort of amending or resolving...
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My sister would frequently snap:  “Not everything is about you” when...
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About Wholesome Badass

The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings. For too long, I felt I was terminally unique(flawed) in this way. This is not true. Feeling deeply, willingness to share, and healing are hard work–Wholesome and 100% Badass.  This is the record of my work, my journey.

I laugh as deeply as I cry.  I love hard and without apology for my intensity.  It is who I am, not my favorite trait or biggest asset, but a part worthy of love, just the same.  I am learning to choose only those who choose me. This is my journey into self-love, learning to be ok when others disapprove or respond with righteous unkindness.

Musings

Fuckology I never dlete messages Just in case mf
Want Sum?
Oh the draining mindfuckery of dealing with someone married to their zero sum fixed...
Read More
cgw holdings charlotte nc Be cautious of connections that feel like home if home wasn't always a safe place for you
Love Does & Does Not
If I really think about it. …I could not have done anything great enough to earn...
Read More
Gray rock, No contact, Narcissist
Clean MRI
The neuorlogists office called regarding MRI of brain and spine- results of scan:...
Read More
Maria Consiglio Wholesomebadass Narcissist Never wrong Catherine G Whitney
So Then
I worried that R would righteously skip the MRI and also not tell me. I checked...
Read More
1 2 19 20 21 127 128

Self Love

Bullet Journal-  How To Draw Easter Eggs
"Happy" Easter
Ugh! My life has never been better. Ever. But this does not change the reality...
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An Inconvenient Child
I was an inconvenient child. There was no tolerance or support for this, only...
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Empath Self Assessment by Judith Orloff 1. Have I’ve been labeled as “overly sensitive,”...
Read More
Judith Stone ghoneim and Maggie Ghoneim
Bye Mom
A little more than a month has passed and I have not cried for the absence of my...
Read More
1 18 19 20 21 22 71

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Faith

They Belong Together
It makes sense that I married a man opposed to any sort of amending or resolving...
Read More
Connection and Protection
As I contemplate, what specifically, I find so daunting, besides the obvious betrayal,...
Read More
It is Not About You
My sister would frequently snap:  “Not everything is about you” when...
Read More
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I remember feeling amazed to learn that there is a different formulation for chemotherapy...
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I honestly had such flawed thinking and attitudes growing up.  I often felt the victim...
Read More
BIRTHDAY MIRACLES
In spite of the tension that defines our relationship, my ex and I co-hosted a beautiful...
Read More
1 2 19 20 21 45 46

About Wholesome Badass

The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings. For too long, I felt I was terminally unique(flawed) in this way. This is not true. Feeling deeply, willingness to share, and healing are hard work–Wholesome and 100% Badass.  This is the record of my work, my journey.

I laugh as deeply as I cry.  I love hard and without apology for my intensity.  It is who I am, not my favorite trait or biggest asset, but a part worthy of love, just the same.  I am learning to choose only those who choose me. This is my journey into self-love, learning to be ok when others disapprove or respond with righteous unkindness.

Recent Posts

Feeling Safe with Others
Purpose, Belonging, Direction
I read a quote today which...
IMG_5521
Just Shut Up
The messages from my family...
IMG_5692
I'm not angry. I'm overwhelmed.
It’s painful to recall being...
Unsafe Family System
Accuracy of Language
I am gradually acquiring better...
We'll figure it out together is a love language- Steve Maraboli Phototext
Rupture and Repair
The culmination of sleep deprivation,...
Stages of Trauma Healing
Breakdown or Breakthrough
Today, in rush hour traffic,...
Chronic paind and depression. The struggle is real. #lethargic
National Son’s Day
Ugh, another day to grieve. ...
what healing looks like- what being triggered looks like
Healing and Living
What my healing looks like: I...
IMG_5519
Truthful vs Honest
The irreparable damage of...
Narcissistic Abuse Toxic Positivity Fake Peace
Just Be Positive
I needed something from the...