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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.

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.

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.

December

In the past month: **My boys’ father met a woman, requiring him to stay out late on school nights (past 10 and even 11) leaving my boys home alone, at night to go to bed, without knowing when he might return. He only has them every other week. This is neither necessary nor ok. ***The father has whisked them on a frantic last minute trip to the mountains for a weekend to meet her, with them all staying in the same house.(more on this in a later post). **My older son’s continuing numbness in his legs and feet required a visit with a neurologist who mentioned the possibility of Multiple Sclerosis and recommended an MRI to rule MS out. My sons’ father texted feverishly with new woman throughout the neurology visit, of which he did not report to me a single detail, even when asked directly, like not even the mention of MS which had been made in front of our son. He engaged in minimal dialog, to our son before returning him to school to finish out his day, with thoughts of possibly having MS. While he felt uncompelled to comfort or soothe our son, I bet big money that he promptly contacted everyone he knows to share the news and extract compassion and support for himself. Regarding the introduction of the woman, after so little time, and in such an unfair way, the mountain cabin intro yielded highly predicatble results. It made my older son very uncomfortable and the ways in which his struggle manifested, led his father to call him shaming names repeatedly and over an extended period of time, followed by cold silence. In his messaging, he let our son know that our son’s discomfort IS THE problem, that he was the problem, and it is agreed by new woman and previous woman, by all of the people. What a sick mother fucker. Expecting our sons to tow the line for his new relationship, requiring them to make her feel welcome(perform comfort), like family. After tearing our son down, his father was childish enough to say, “Well, there go my New Year’s Plans”…as if that is what matters at all- or is relevant and hinged to my sons. When a woman splits, that is on him, them, a failure by THEM to develop a sustainable and durable connection. If a woman of less than some number of years even tries to blame our sons, she is toxic and good fkn riddance. I intentionally waited 6 months before making mention of Sweet Greg. Then another two before making introductions, where we met at a park, and our boys could play and have space and then another four months before they saw one another again. It has never been the boys’ jobs to make Greg (or anyone) feel any kind of way. NEVER. We don’t intentionally manipulate people’s perceptions & feelings. And if it wasnt a good fit, we would just have continued to see each other only on kidfree weekends, for as long as it worked. I am not perfect at anything but I have allllllways put my children first, ahead of any other person, including my FOO (family of origin) and their own father. In true narcissist fashion, they rejected and punished such behavior. Thus the departure from those systems—and THEIR crucifixion of me. Last night, there were dinner plans with the “woman of one month” and my son was panicked as the evening approached, knowing he would be persecuted and punished for literally being who and how he is. Not sanely or fairly punished like a natural consequence for rule breaking, but shamed and banished for failing to perform and to please and be pleased. He texted me early in the dinner to say “I am trying to be different and I can’t”. I felt crushed for him and was grateful to be surrounded by my people who are sympathetic and supportive of our sons. Fortunately, his aunt, who has some recovery sensed his struggle and was able to speak to and comfort him. She was one of the two sensitive truth seekers in her FOO and is familiar with the price to be paid. THE emotional tyranny and obsession with his appearance is the legacy, the cycle, the curse of those who have gone before us. It must end. My mother and sister similarly, I think, felt a certain kind of non-almighty-ness in the face of my observable discomforts and requests (not so unlike our son’s life experience). They were enraged by it, as if it touched on some essential beliefs about dominance and control potency and importance, about both the wielding of power and losing of power. And also somehow tied to their ideas of success and failure. Each, overly invested in the idea of their own authority, and offended by anything and anyone posing to them, as an outside influence, like outside of their own ideas and desires. As if they believe that their control shall universally be agreed upon and affirmed as unyielding and absolute, with no other option but to apply discipline in the firmest and most unequivocal of ways. There was constant and collective resentment over my unwillingness to stop being so sensitive and assertive. Because our son is of similar composition and disposition (to me) I cannot help but worry. AND Favorite reminds me that he has something I did not. He has people(allies and witnesses), undeniably in his corner, me, Sweet Greg, Favorite and her family. Will it be enough, though? Will I accept the truth of my experience or continue to break myself against it as I observe it in real time being repeated? AND one more thing—Rather than correcting or acknowledging the damage of his words and behaviors, my sons’ father would judge only their sharing of the continued hardship and trauma imposed by him. I behave like a rabid animal at times, lose my shit completely, and have and would never consider telling or even suggesting to our

On Fidelity

I long desperately (as I do most things) for my boys to desire and believe in the best for each other (in time, I get that ages 13-15 may be difficult phases to put this into practice), for them to know and to choose fidelity and love. To me, Fidelity (and love also) is a principle and practice suggestive of: “I will not knowingly choose or even stand by for things which harm, diminish, invalidate, or pain you.” This may be rookie level understanding of loyalty and love, and perhaps this thing which I am trying to comprehend and articulate is simply the practice of being a good human-non-abusive. Like, I mean to empower and inspire my people rather than overpower and reduce them.… an all new tradition within my son’s blood lines. Witnessing and relating/living in this way, was first introduced to me, in my program of recovery. Principled living! Committing to static principles(a higher power) for guidance and direction, rather than the ever changing moods and whims of myself or others. Whoa! This is a difficult time of year. My older son’s birthday, the holidays, and I thiiiiink the anniversary of my mother’s physical death. The division between the boys’ father and me did not begin with the betrayals in her final years, but was certainly exacerbated by initiatives of my sister and mother. It is hard not to feel like shit as I recall that and suffer the escalated tension and inability, as co-parents, to make these times the best they could be for our children. Our sons have two grandparents gone and going to their graves with their children not speaking to each other or to them. I am intent on disrupting this cycle. I expose my sons only to those, proven, over time, to be intentionally kind and loyal to those they claim to love. Also, I will continue unlearning all of the old shit and practicing all of the new. So tiring. I hope to not live to see a day when our adult sons have turned or will easily and righteously turn on one another. Though, It feels nearly guaranteed. Nature and nurture weigh heavily against them. In the process of writing, I realize it is not loyalty necessarily, that I am trying to get my head around. Because this elusive thing I strive to understand be, model for my children… It is not limited to only loved ones–but to living life as a genuinely good, upright citizen of humanity. Recovery(and Sweet Greg) taught me that I don’t have to like or feel pleased by a person to do right by them. Shouldn’t we each aspire to and be able to expect integrity extending to all people in our lives, where we walk our talk, speak truth and are kind? It seems like this could be considered common sense or common decency, when it is in fact not common at all. I continue with the work to mature spiritually and emotionally, quite late in life. Still, better late than never. Life on earth is v. hard. Jil an Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

NANEA HOFFMAN SWEATPANTS & COFFEE QUOTE: YOUR EXPERIENCES DO NOT NEED OT BE VALIDATED BY OTHER PEOPLE FOR THEM TO BE REAL AND TRUE.

Good Input

How have I provided good input for my children? Who, in my child’s life is a reliable source for good input (consistently kind, considerate, trustworthy, loyal, present, protective, loving)…intentionally contributing to strong senses of trust, hope, belonging, confidence? When it is communicated that: what a child/person thinks/experiences/sees/needs/feels is not real or valued, this is bad input. Continual bad input from people in positions of authority, compromises potential for development of creativity, confidence, hope, the ability to persevere and connect in healthy and sustainable ways. Communicating to a child any version of: “Not only are you incorrect about what you are seeing and feeling, you are bad for perceiving it that way AND for failing to hide it.” is super fucked up. When children learn to distrust and dislike themselves for their own perceptions and then also assume responsibility for the scary reactions by their adults, it stands to reason that they may give up on the idea that it is within their power to live a better life. To expect or get our children to defer to us exclusively for TRUTH, may feel (for a narcissist) like a success: to have(posesss and control) children who do, feel, say, and like, only as directed—but in my experience and estimation, it is a tragedy – a nasty cycle worth breaking. I witness the cycle begging to repeat itself with one of my sons and his father, who feels deeply offended and disrespected by anyone daring to openly differ. To a narcissist, one who does anything but smile favorably, agree, approve, admire, is an enemy– to be punished and eliminated. Because: When you are not making the narcissist feel good and important, you are (in their minds, opposing them) making them feel bad and this angers them. The shame his father means to heap upon our son while favoring the other and creating division between brothers is familiar(literally—of the family) and vile. So grateful that my son has the option to safely share with a counsellor, Favorite, Sweet Greg, and me, the truth of his experiences. As parents, we can be unknowing sources of bad input. Especially when we limit ourselves to doing only what we learned, know, and have always practiced, a generational curse. Foooooock, our sons have one parent who absolutley denies their own struggles, failures, hard feelings, and unwholesome contributions, while the other heads straight to the center of it- and remains there, in despair- a pathetic effort to prove the reality of the pain rather than just healing from IT and moving tf on. Yikes. Poor guys. God helpem.

We cant control other people's reactions to us, only what we make them mean.

Connection & Purpose

I was raised on reduced by the continual messaging that my sole function was to make myself pleasing to those displeased by me…. To seek approval from the disapproving: TO dedicate myself to curbing who I was, what I felt, wanted, needed, liked, disliked, feared – Performance and pretense were requirements, but only if I hoped to be accepted non-banished and non-reproached. Unworthy, unlovable, defective, punishable for being too muchy and not enoughy of certain things. Those voices of disapproval became my own voice and identity. I thought they were reflecting back to me who I actually was. And you know what….fuck that. In order to qualify for “safety and connection” I would have had to, basically, become someone other than myself. It made no sense and did not work out for me, at all. I nearly died trying, first in my family of origin, then in a marriage which mimicked that original dynamic. Decades without the ability to discern authentic & meaningful purpose and connection, wrecked me at a cellular level, leaving me lost, untethered, confused and very very angry about being denied what I craved and at some level, knew that I deserved (and which seemed impossible for me to “earn” and sustain)- assurance of a safe and nurturing place in which I might thrive and guidance from people who could be trusted and kind. As my teen boys now seek (though unconsciously) to know “to whom do I belong” and “where will I head”, I watch and listen closely. They observe their father and me with our diametrically opposing beliefs (and results) regarding these matters. I feel both hopeful and pleased that they seem to be grasping that: true purpose brings true connection… a higher purpose — greater than personal (and often uninformed and reactive) wants. I recall with shocking clarity how my believing wrong and untrue things led me to want wrong things(things not meant for me) and do wrong(unwholesome) things. Long Story Short: When people are not comfortable with or accepting of us, that is not our cue to be different, but to beWARE: Those are not our people. Some people will simply not like, appreciate, or understand us, in fact they may wish to harm and diminish us, as the only way they know, to manage their own discomfort. That is proof only of THEIR issue and defect. Oh, and also, fuck them. Very ranty today after more horseshit maneuvers by someone with whom I must deal, for as long as we both shall live. While this post is not my most wholesome or badass, it is recovery at work. Because instead of telling him about himself, I pop off here, in my space, with only those who care to know what I might feel or have to say.

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.

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Words to LIVE By

Who you spend your time with will have a great impact on what kind of life you live. Spend time with the right people.
— Joel Osteen (@JoelOsteen) November 19, 2016

Purpose, Belonging, Direction

Just Shut Up

I'm not angry. I'm overwhelmed.

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December

In the past month: **My boys’ father met a woman, requiring...

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Self Love

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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.