One Day at a Time, They too Shall Pass

With each day and night that passes, there is one less in which we have to heal.  In this desire(to heal), I stand alone.  My mother, aunts, and uncles are at the age where mortality is difficult to deny.  I am deeply pained by the reality that funerals seem the only sane reason to join in a gathering of those who otherwise have expressed actively and passively; a demand need for me, only to pretend and to be less sensitive and less hurt.  Oh…ok.  The occasions will be awkward and I will need to call deeply on my courage, but I will show up and pay respects.  Apparently my limits for unkindness are unwelcome.  So, until then, I will stay away.  For now, this is how I respect their wishes and myself.  Interesting to note that because I find it unbearable to think that my time with my sons is limited to this time on earth, I must believe in heaven.  Yet, as it relates to my family of origin, I must believe that our time IS limited to time on earth.  Sad but true.

When my sons were 4 and 5 years old and they asked about heaven; if I would die before them and how they would find me “up there”.  Like magic I I knew to tell them “It will be like when I pick you up from school; the bell rings and I am waiting, you will look and you will find me, waiting, like I always am.”♥

No Solution- No problem

My lil canary dog–in tune with me, sensitive, present, and faithful.  Another 4 seizures/24 hours. When I engage the stress and despair of my family, he seizes. He is my barometer.

The dysfunction is an unpleasant fact to be accepted. Not a problem to be solved. No solution-no problem. Deep sigh.  Up, the white flag goes, surrendering to the GOMU, not to them….ever.  Surrender is the most wholesome and badass thing I ever do, as long as it is to a higher power that is NOT FEAR and not another human.  Fortunately, I can surrender them as many times as needed.  What is your higher power?  What motivates you to authentically be your best you?  To what do you surrender?

Surrender…. or Try Harder, More, Better

Resignation is not acceptance– and with my family of origin, this is especially challenging.  The collective action and message which remain consistent from them: “eff you, you are unworthy and bad– banished, but we will allow your sorry ass if you ever choose to sit at our table with us and accept the blessing of the seat we offer.”  I just cannot accept that offer….and am failing to extract a better one.  My sister insists it is her intent to have our family together for the sake of our mother but her actions have divided us all by 360 degrees.  My mother claims to want some family unity in her lifetime but dismisses me at every turn.  I do not want to be seated at a table with people who treat me as unworthy of acknowledgment and love.  I guess it just hurts.  

The Imaginary Letter-The One That Never Comes

How many fucken times will I need to surrender this?  I cannot stand that  she never has to be accountable for her behaviors and words and the wakes of destruction that she unflinchingly justifies and defends as necessary because of something someone else says or does.  She is incapable, not by her own fault but the culture of our her family.  Radical non-forgivers can never own their own unfortunate and damaging choices.  No intention of setting things right.  Her remaining untouched by her own bad deeds really messes with me.  Somehow her refusal to acknowledge her part makes the old me want to step up and own it all as I did in the past.  Nobody wants less pain—just a demand to ignore and deny harder and more.  Ugh.  Writing this letter supplied me with the adrenaline I needed to start this day.  Thank you, Jilan!  I would move forward in a hot second if we could bring some shared good will into our hearts.

1.5 hours later….still cookin 

Yours Truly,

Magda Gee♥

Greatest Achievement-hahaha

I trust him in the most deepest blood way and can count on him in all ways. He makes a space for me to feel my intense and full range of emotions-and lose my shit when that is what is needed. Then he reels me back in. We laugh big over the little things, especially ourselves. He is one #wholesomebadass motherfukkuh. #Strong #gentle #confident #humble #wise #unconditionallove #authenticity #acceptance

We say thank you and I am sorry without even thinking. We disagree regularly but need not fight, because we have faith and trust and value each other more than being right.  Authenticity and intimacy, emotional safety–these are miracles and great achievements.  Thank you, sweet Greg for luvvin me completely.  I love you!

Always,

♥M

Letter to Mother and Sister

I will assume your silence means you need more space at this time.  I look forward to a time where we may each communicate openly and kindly.  I would like to try, when we are all ready.  My willingness to heal and recover any level of trust and connection remains.  I can be patient and without being oblivious to the reality of the ticking clock and the passing days which feel daunting, and change nothing.
I hope you are all well and hope that I will be notified otherwise.
Always,
M(and the boys):  WE are here.
This is pretty standard content for my emails.  The standard response is silence or condemnation.  I send these emails to affirm for myself that if my mother passes without further or healed contact and connection with me, it is absolutely not due to a lack of effort or willingness from my end.  Acceptance.  Acceptance.  Acceptance.  My sister’s shaming character assassination, uncontested by cc-d  family members, in addition to  my ex’s family, following her dinner which was kept secret from me, is something I forgive but do not accept as something that is ok or deserved.  Neutrality at this point is not an option.  Any effort will either de-escalate or intensify the situation.  My mother is recovering from health issues at age 84 and I moved cross country 2 years ago to be here-for her.  I still want that, free from abuse and shaming.
Acceptance is for badasses and totally wholesome.  I re-commit by the minute to the acceptance of the fact that I am powerless to make things be different.  These are my most wholesome efforts.  It is my belief that what has passed between us demands an honest reckoning.  I will wait.  ♥

Tools for Life

Coming from a long lines of mental illness and untreated addiction, where every non-happy feeling was perceived as anger and responded to with anger, I picked up some unfortunate coping and operating styles.  This wall of tools is the perfect metaphor for the tools for life before and now, with recovery.  The left side needs little explanation.

The dustpan and brush, I need for for cleaning up little messes I make.  Tape for repairing things that are fixable.  Soft gloves, for handling of fragile or prickly things with care.  A measuring tape and timer to help me give space and time between an incident and my response.  Knee pads for the time I spend on my knees waiting and asking for guidance.   A flashlight for times when it feels dark for me or a trusted other.  A needle and thread for sewing back together those things which can be mended.  Love is always the answer.  Accepting my full range of emotions and developing healthy tools for coping are miracles of recovery.

Recovery tools are wholesome and 100%badass.  What are some of your metaphorical tools for life?

An Invitation to Heal-Repair or Release

I am slowly mining gems of peace from the work of reconciling and healing, I must do on my own.  According to Reverend Desmond Tutu; healing and reconciliation do not erase the reality of injuries that occur AND forgiveness is not pretending that what has indeed happened did not happen. “Healing does not draw a veil over the hurt.”   For a lifetime I have longed for honest reckoning– which consistently has been denied/attacked by those whom I relate to by virtue of birth….And no matter the diminishing words and behaviors, I remain willing to reconcile–with them.”

An invitation to forgive is an invitation to find healing and peace, not to forget or pretend.”  My invitation stands- and is as offensive to them today as it was 25 years ago and 2 years ago and 1 year ago.  I will pray for the willingness to remain open to the possibilities of healing in my mother’s lifetime with people who show no promise of being able to sustain a presence beyond celebrations and emergencies.  Shutting down would be much easier.

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Good Grief

I cannot help but feel charmed when I hear people in utter exasperation calmly say “Good Grief”.  It is so completely wholesome(benevolent) and old school.

While grief, may not be good, it is essential, and a natural part of life.  We all deserve to grieve and heal from heartbreak.  My sons’ deserve a healed and whole mother. As an adult with choices, recovery of my spirit takes priority over my seat at “the family table”.    My first choice is to recover with my family of origin.  The alternative is to recover on my own.  It has been collectively declared that “There is nothing to heal from, just move on, Already, goddammit”.  My sister’s locking onto my ex-husband(any excuse at all to fawn and connect(gag)) has troubled us as co-parents, as well as divided me from our confused and aging mother.  I have nearly quit judging that behavior, but still, I REFUSE to dine with abusers of my sons’ parents.  The idea of sharing a meal is sickening.  Our next genetic gathering will be for a death.  While the passing of any family member will be unfortunate, the death itself, will not erase or stop the damage.  I will pray for the grace to show up only as a mourner for the passing of whomever it is.  The service will not pose as a union or a re-union.  Just a memorial  for the deceased; a ceremony dedicated to those who need to grieve the passing of a loved one.  I respect and honor the need to grieve.   For me, it will be a day of exercising courage, humility, and compassion–100% wholesome and badass.

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The Menu-Life Choices

Like a child, I want to choose only from a menu of: fun, relaxing, and highly lucrative.  Regarding my family of origin, there is no action to take…no matter how differently I want for things to be. I will know in my core when the time is right to do something different. For today I will choose to detach with patience and faith that I cannot force people, places, and things to be different just by taking big action(reaction).  We always have choices, but sometimes the menu (our life circumstance) appears to offer equally displeasing options; like- pain or more pain.

With regards to my children and my Sweet Greg, I choose to be present, loving, and gentle with myself.  I want to be all that I can be for those who count on me and love me in ways that feel wholesome.  I choose sanity and kindness.  Those two things are totally badass!  So grateful that recovery has provided more expansive menu selections.

What will you choose today?