Like a Moth to a Flame

Ok,  so from the very beginning with Stu, the widow, I was enamored by his ability to say what I needed to hear in the language I crave.  He exercised the language of recovery and also the conduct of an unrecovered addict.  And– like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to each of these things.  

His patterns of behavior consistently were in conflict with his words.  Rather than doubting him, I doubted my sanity and ability to percieve. I was soothed by the words, so I overrode my gnawing instinct, dismissing it as my ptsd, because– I preferred his words — to being right. I wanted to be wrong. Badly.

Well, I did grow from and enjoy our situationship.  But– what have I learned? Today,  I am feeling deeply agitated that I still can not make people, places, or things be different from how they are.  I hate having to accept what I do not want and like.  HATE IT. 

The widow part of his story was a gift to me – a powerful and much needed reminder: “I do not know”.  So, while it is true that I cannot assume motives for anyone’s behavior.  I understand that repeated patterns do not lie, while words do.  I am a sucker for the language of recovery.

Fun Fact:  The two men I am currently getting to know (and using to dull the pain) share the names of my previous long term relationship people.  OY! What I am observing in one of them is that the protector provider instinct is high for him…so that will be NEW and delightful! And I will note how that feels like a thing I would sure like to experience.

Big Triggers

Ok,  I have resumed journalling, rigorously, of course, because I either do things with rigor or not at all.  sooo—With this man, who is widowed, from the love of his life, I am able to behave a little differently, then I would, say, with a regular single person.  Because certain assumptions cannot be made about his behaviors or agendas.  Even though with regular people, I should also not assume to know what is behind their words and actions, I do.  But I 100% am lacking in personal experience with people who have known his kind of love and loss.  So, rather than immediately reacting (to or at him) I am now able to pause. 

I head straight to my journal where I(feverishly-as I do all things) record my perception of what he has or has not said or done which is affecting me.  And there, on the paper, with my pencil, I write down the story I am telling myself about that behavior.  Then, I write out what I would say to him, if the story were true. I zero in on what specifically I am having a reaction to and how I am feeling –which illuminates for me, what I need and fear and why exactly I feel the thing—-and I am seeing over and over that ptsd can pose as intuition and vice versa… Like— Am I reacting to a thing that actually transpired OR a thing which reminds(triggers/flashbacks) me of past trauma(betrayal/abandonment)?

I shall refer to him as Stu.  So, not only does Stu differ in remarkable ways previously mentioned- which precludes me from automatically  applying my assumptions, but his standard response to feeling challenged or confused is wildly different and gorgeous- like stunning. 

I have known and chosen few if any genuinely humble and courageous ( -seems as if these two qualities go together) self reflective people.  Things which no person with whom I have been in family or optional relations has ever recognized or admitted about themselves, but he HAS:

“I don’t know what I am doing.  I can be a difficult and confusing person.” Stu reports these things with unknowingly brilliant awareness.  I am hopeful that, for as long as our paths may be crossed, we will contribute meaningfully to the other’s healing.  

Nothing like a new relationship to remind us of our wounds and all the work needed to repair and grow.  Stu is for sure a good journeyman, not afraid and not too proud and more than willing.  It is agreed, that whatever we are doing- is a one day at a time thing.  

Honest(Emotionally honest not just saying words reflecting a level of factual accuracy)OpenWilling. –We each show up in these ways.  I am crying much of the time(not unusual for me).  I cry because feelings in general get too big for me and are released through my tears, not only for sadness, but also delight, appreciation, frustration, excitement, fear….   I am quickly and easily overwhelmed by most emotions and sensations.  This results from both my wiring(nature) and my trauma(nurture).  My wiring meaning my nervous system and brain chemistry leave me especially porous and everything gets in(in high def)…my trauma referring to how I have been previously regarded in times of overwhelm (handled like a poopy diaper filled with venomous snakes) for being a constant feeler of big, deep, dificult to process feelings….or as it has been labelled–dramatic, pain in the ass, thin-skinned, crazy, delusional.

In my family of origin, it seems insensitivity is of the highest value and is also confused for strength. And sensitivity recognized as weakness, if not selfishness, managed (by the powers that be) with alienation, mockery, shaming and smearing. I literally am thanking god for a growing, more wholesome understanding of and respect for sensitivity, courage, compassion, selfcare…and an even greater awareness of what it means to be near those who judge and mask sensitivity and wear THAT like a badge of honor and superiority. The ranking of members in my FOO is glaring- plain for any one to see– with levels of observable sensitivity having designated the value and place each person holds.

Trolling for Love on Match.com

So, here I am “dating” again….  And I feel as if it’s almost something to be admitted only in a whisper, to close friends, and with an apology.  For the past three weeks, I have been avoiding journaling, contact with my therapist and my sponsor — and am not entirely sure why.  I need practice with my recovery in real time relationships and connections.  While also wondering: should I spend some time alone?  But no, I should not.  Technically, my entire life- I feel I have been alone, on my own, seperate– even and especially while in relationships, because I had been so cut off from myself. I crave and require a lot of practice with the behaviors of healthy relating and self love. This way of being is rigorously challenging for me (and also probably my friends–as I am incessantly checking in with them to see what is good, right, true, and fair before saying the uncomfortable but seemingly necessary thing I feel called to say). Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Charlotte NC Impact Design

SO- I have been enjoying getting to know a(nother) man.  I literally get high from our interactions, not just moments of physicality, but also relationally-in our convos and texts- our exchanges.  He is hysterically fun and funny, curious and engaging – consistently unafraid of not knowing a thing, not understanding, not being right, expert, or in charge.  In this way, he differs from most people I have known.  He readily says things like: I don’t understand or what do you mean by that, with earnest curiosity and hunger to know more and go deeper…not that fucked up passive aggressive “well, I don’t understand or I am confused because I thought you said that…” intended as a challenge and an invitation to explain myself in a defensive and proving type way- typically resulting in a condemnation of me– for being defensive.

He readily apologized for his contribution to a misunderstanding we had.  This is intoxicating, to me  – inquiries rooted in genuine curiosity, courage, and humility- a desire to get closer— I have little to no experience with that, in my historical relationships(not counting Sweet Greg).  I have no idea what this could be or where or how long it will go, but he is a person I must keep knowing.  We have much to learn together.  The quality and frequency of our laughter is matched by a growing number of inside jokes and language, which is a goddamm treasure.  In my marriage, there were maybe two inside jokes, because there was no “inside”.  

I would not label what he and I are doing as “love” in the traditional or Miriam Webster kind of way. But it feels important (in my recovery journey). I am seizing opportunities to exercise a more wholesome brand of love than I had learned and practiced in my first fifty years.

In my developing understanding of the type of love I want to offer and recieve: Love wouldn’t drain me (the majority of the time). It should never make me doubt my worth or standing or place in the relationship. It should NEVER make me feel unsafe, fearful, or insecure. It should not activate my survival instincts. It SHOULD make me feel calm, connected, safe, energized, welcome, valued, needed, wanted.

I am as hungry as I am grateful, for the continued opportunities presented in dating:

-to settle or not settle

-to set boundaries or not set boundaries

-to accept mixed messages or not accept mixed messages

-to speak up or not speak up

-to ask for what I need or accept less than I need

-to stay or to say goodbye

I rarely feel “pride”, but I am incredibly proud of how I am handling myself, my needs, my truths, my heart, my wellness, my recovery, in my dating experiences.  I am a work in progress, and each realtionship – no matter how long or brief – is helping me to grow into the human I was always supposed to be. I do believe 100% that nothing is wasted in God’s economy.

Good, better, and not enough

Last week, Ed, my friend from the mountains, visited for our week together and we had such a nice time doing the most basic shit. Yardwork, making food, checking out a farm store, grabbing lunch at cool cafe, watching almost no TV, walking, bathing, and caring for the dogs. Our four dogs are glorious and motley crew – endless sources of laughter and distraction. When Ed and I are together, we enjoy conversations (about only what is right in front of us). I have finally been able to articulate and acknowledge this thing that is missing though. Expansive conversation involving reflection and contemplation. He lacks interest and availability to engage that way. And I will not again, knowingly choose to go without that. We enjoyed six loving , 86% amazing months, and we have now ended it. I absolutely wished it could have developed into more. It was what I needed, until it was clear it wasn’t entirely.

Interesting(to me) to now realize, how in previous relationships, I have always felt haunted by a nagging concern in the very back of my mind, either– that it would last forever or–that it would not. I did not once experience any version of that with Ed. I still have a lot of trauma triggers for feeling abandoned(which I am working on), and am now willing and possibly able to no longer choose to abandon myself in order to sustain “connection” with another.

Below is a list of my must haves (from which I must not stray):

-easy expansive conversation -willingness to show up fully and stay for difficult conversations- humility and courage in the form of laughing easily at ourselves and generously apologizing when we have caused upset, whether knowingly or otherwise- curiosity- expansive thinking and conversation- emotional availability and rigorous honesty- accountability- chemistry (combustible in the bedroom), easy laughter- high and mutual regard for each other’s peace, comfort, joy, satisfaction.

Relax- Calm Down

After my friend in the mountains directed me, in a moment of distress, to “relax”, I was able to calmly request the following without any blowback or negative consequences:

“Hey, next time you think of suggesting I take a breath and relax, will you please consider instead saying”: “what do you need or what can I do to make it better?” And he gladly does!!! What a miracle. Asking for what I need from the right people is another fruit of my recovery. And also recognizing that if he would have objected or defended his need to say that, that would have registered as my cue to move on. He continually reminds me in a loving, amazing soulful eye contacty way: “Just ask me directly if you need something, and if I can, I will give it to you.”

Favorite has been known to say to me in times of duress “It is not the end of the world” and I was able to let her know that upsets me- because to me, it feels dismissive and degrading. And she stopped saying that—to me! This is LOVE!!! The kind of love I need, crave, deserve, and intend to give. Where people can count on feeling heard, seen, welcome, safe, valued. Everyone gets to choose what matters to them. 🥰 Right? Like if you need/ prefer/ choose to keep saying and doing the dismissive things, so be it- but I gotta roll.

Showing deep care and regard for a person calls us to want to know: how to NOT make things feel harder, lonelier, worse, even when there is nothing we can do to make them better.

We'll figure it out together is a love language- Steve Maraboli Phototext

My Friend in the Mountains

Visits with my friend in the mountains continue for 5 days at a time every other week which works well for us.  He and I each unapologetically require stretches of solitude.  The hardest part of the arrangement, for me, is that I surrender much needed separation from all others- so that we may enjoy each other- only on my child-free weeks.  It has now been 5 months and I look forward to the time when introducing him to my sons feels appropriate, necessary, and fun, perhaps this summer.  

Since my friend in the mountains is retired and has no children, his daily (fully autonomous) life resumes when we part, while I am left with less time to recover from being on earth, in a body, with other humans, as a single mom and dedicated employee.  It is hard.  Balance is key. We are still figuring it out. Solitude without meaningful and sustainable connection is no good just as connection without sustained solitude has felt both unmanageable and unsatisfying. 

Fortunately, my bed and office space in my home are absolutely perfect for me-especially with proximity to zero other two legged beings. So, while I cry at our good byes, time all to myself, in my home does please, relieve and soothe me.  What a blessing and a miracle— to have a home I love – where I feel safe – physically & mentally able to relax….while also having a cool relationship to explore, as I heal, recover, and get to learn and practice more wholesome connection.

The intensity of affection (for lack of a perfect word) and appreciation I feel for my friend in the mountains is overwhelming.  I cry frequently and a lot—-from feeeeeling so deeply. And while he does not relate to my need to cry, he also does not mind or judge. He tells me that the best thing about me is that I continue to be exactly who and how I claim to be. This is the most honest realtionship I have had. If not for the politics, I would also have said that about my previous relationship (before the 2016 election- six of the seven years called for levels odf denying and pretending which made me feel dead inside, disconnected, resentful, and ashamed).

New Love- Old Wounds

Still enjoying the magic of every other week in the mountains with my new friend, and as we become more familiar and relaxed with each other, we are being slowly re-emersed back into reality where we, as humans, remain flawed, frustrating, annoying…. Yet another struggle for me – each time I have a non-paradise type feeling or even sense that he might, I panic. Because my formative and marital expereince proved consistently, that if one causes, honestly expresses or conveys non-pleasedness or uneasiness, on the heels of that would be- unspeakable and interminable tension which, for me, never stopped registering as cause for fear, pain, confusion.

Fortunately, New Friend does not object in the least, to me being human and healing and honest about uncomfortable thinking and feelings. Our time together is good, emotionally rich and safe, fun, sexy, uncomplicated (except for the parts where I make it complicated). I feel loved, nourished, nurtured, beyond welcome, close, connected, insulated and protected.

However, I am still me and my wounded/unhealed self begs regularly to threaten my own peace and serenity. I am easily triggered and well practiced in old reactive and unwell behaviors. For example, he does two things, which bug the shit out of me and— both are innocent…but I super dislike them–and am keenly aware of my shitty hair trigger reaction to them. I resist expressing them outright in a corrective and judgy type of way, but the trauma response is there gnawing on my bones. Why must healing and unlearning be a lifelong commitment and process, rather than a singular event? Why?!?!

In recovery, my third step (for the 97th time) helps me to practice acceptance for the things I cannot (and should not attempt to control or) change. Old programming and trauma informed me that– when one is disturbed or displeased by a thing-then – it must be a probelm to be worked on- corrected, or denied entirely. But that is damaging and dysfunctional thinking. Some things are simply unpleasant facts, made for acceptance. Like how about I let him be who and how he is without telling him about himself and also without internally losing my shit and becoming cold and withdrawn, as aresult of my own inability to regulate? I find it to be childish and harmful to attempt to make a person be different(or gone) so as to avoid having to manage challenging feelings and reactions to differing non-preferred behaviors.

I am a work in progress and grateful for this time with my new journeyman. He may not know it- but I see it- he too, is healing, without realizing or even meaning to. He really dislikes is not big on discussing or reflecting on harder less pretty parts of the past. For me, reflection and discussion are essential to my healing and growing into the person I was always meant to be…so that I may become bettter at recogninzing, recieving and offering whoelsome loving.

It Is Like This

It Is Like this

On my drives to and from the mountains to visit my new “friend”, the radio signal/reception fades in and out. Shuffling through stations I am blown away by the number of songs that if asked if I knew them, I would think no.  And then– songs I do not even know that I know, come on- the music takes me immediately back to a time where I first or last or regularly recall hearing it, and the feelings of that time. AND then– I in fact recall – every – single – word.  All words, lyrics, even the chorus to songs I had forgotten even existed. This seems a perfect metaphor for trauma.

Trauma-

It is like this.  PTSD is like this.  Things happened—confusing and damaging things imprinted on me- events and dynamics, which for so long, I could not identify or fully remember, because I lacked the language, but those traumas (definition of trauma:  deeply distressing experiences too big and difficult to process and manage alone) lived inside of me and shaped me, making it easy and desirable for those I burdened, to judge, label, dismiss me– as angry, peculiar, impossible, dramatic, selfish, lying, troublesome–an outsider. No good.

And still, decades later, when faced with a person who did the things OR even someone who reminds me of them, I am transported back to a moment of trauma, no longer in the real time- moment, in which technically I am now safe with actual choices.  My body and brain react immediately and intensely to the trigger and enter into fight or flight mode. Because I am reacting to People(fromthe past) who felt inclined and entitled to to make me pay, put me in my place, make me sorry—for interfering with their plan or pleasure. And for judgy people who lack the ability to courageously engage in the work of healing, repairing, and growing, they righteously focus on illumination of a my reaction to pain caused by them— using terms like erratic, deranged…dedicated to undermining, smearing, discrediting me, in a way which makes them feel right, justified… superior. Catherine G Whitney Ghoneim

Attachment and repair are indicated as critical components to raising trusting, resilient children who will thrive in their personal relationships. Healthy Attachment being defined as deep knowing and belief that “I am safe.  I matter. I am real” (as are my feelings and experiences) (even when they differ from yours)).

Am I real?  Am I safe?  Do I matter?  The people older than and in charge of me made certain to insure that, for me, the answer to these three questions was a resounding NO.  Communicating in all variety of ways that:
I am alone and discardable. That–My difficult feelings were unnatural, invalid, unwelcome, inadmissible:  Expressing them in any way placed me in the crosshairs and I was handled accordingly:  typically with mocking, silent treatment, banishment, and shunning.

Thankfully, I no longer worry(too much) about the unhealed people who misunderstand my reflection and healing for a need to rehash and a refusal to forgive, get over, move tf on. However, my need to diminish the shadow of my trauma and grief which falls squarely on my children, matters much more than the opionions of judgers with limited thinking. I am a work in progress. I heal for myself and those who love(with wholesome nurturing love- never desiring to punish) me.

I think in my family of origin as well as the family of my boys’ father, they have confused their retalliations for “natural consequences”. So grateful to now recognize that for what it is.

Jeff Brown Soul Sahping Photo Text Instagram

Held and Free

“A whole family is one in which each member can bring her full self to the table knowing that she will always be both held and free.” by Glennon Doyle

Having just returned from another week in the mountains with my new special friend, I am stunned again by my ability to spend 24/7 with another human him for days at a time– and enjoy it. The hardest part… saying goodbye. Fortunately, our next visit is 7 days away.

Together, we are enjoying that elusive state of freedom (to show up fully and exactly as we are) within deep and growing connection- a way of being which was absent for each of of us in our upbringings/families of origin. Those formative dynamics bred feelings of being both caged and untethered.

I can not know where this will go. AND- If it turns into everything- amazing(!) and if it does not, still amazing. This man (who, for now, shall remain nameless) is brilliant, sexy, hilarious, compassionate, curious, unafraid of not knowing or of being wrong or making and owning a mistake. Literally no trace of fragility – able and willing to communicate directly with full transparency and to engage an uncomfortable conversation. He makes zero effort to control, impress or manipulate others. His calm regulated, non-reactive ways are pure magic for my highly dysregulated nervous system. Who knew I could be so completely drawn to a person and also not feel panicked about possible sudden and mysterious abandonment/discard “prompted by” a thing I did or did not do or say?

Also, our shared regard for the planet, marginalized people, gun law reform, Covid, women’s rights to body autonomy(…..) rewards us with expansive conversations. I am thrilled that we each openly express what we think, feel, need, want and beliieve – and that doing so makes us closer.

The not sharing our thoughts on important matters in my previous relationship, it seems, was only slightly less divisive than if we had attempted to share about them, with a politically (highly) dissimilar person. It took time and outside help for me to realize and accept that the impact of our never shrinking political divide made our relationship both too much and not enough for me.

Scapegoating- How it begins

“Any time a small child gets labeled and referred to by a parent as too much or bad, that child/baby is actually being handed the job of covering for a parent with a fragile ego.” Reading those words today allowed me to breathe just a little more deeply. I feel the truth of this in my marrow.

I cringe now to recall my mother and sister ranting to me of how when my cousin, the most spirtually and emotionally grounded one in our family, had her first child– he was highly sensitive -requiring a lot of comfort and help with resting and self soothing. Because this cousin does not suffer from fragility, she and her husband went to great lengths to support him, rather than judging and resenting him, casting him out.

Both my mother and sister were stunned by the unearned grace and careful nurturing this “outrageous” baby received. They literally never spared a detail regarding how impossible this baby was. When another cousin brought two highly sensitive children into the world- the level of disgust and judgment for these two children (labelled terrors- exact word- : “terrors”) for requiring so much of their mother, defies articulation. I literally assumed they were monsters, until meeting them for the first time, a few years ago.

The eagerness to detail issues and struggles of our family members felt dirty, gossipy and judgy. And, sadly, I felt grateful to be on the recieving end of tales of defectiveness of others. I do believe my lack of interest and agreement was agitating to them and further solidified the division and differences between us. Seems they were always fighting for a binary status system of good or bad and personally designating where people stood, according to their shared need to perceive themselves as good, right, better, and in charge.

Must post later regarding plans for Christmas Eve with Bestie and Family, followed by a trip to the mountains with a new special friend. ♡ Merry Christmas to everyone, even the a-holes.