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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Safe Distance is not Non-love

Over the summer, we discovered a rather large (imho-6 ft long) black snake in my garage.  My boyfriend and I bonded and laughed immensely over our efforts to corral it outside.  I notified Greg that if he killed it we would be finished.  He assured me he would only hit it with a hammer if needed.  And– I re-affirmed, that nothing gets killed in my home by people I trust.  I have 100% faith that our visitor was fully disinterested in engaging us, as well as non-poisonous.  It would have been less frightening I think, if it would have been lavender or stripey.  He was just a snake doing snake things-but the big and the black is something we are trained to fear. When I shared our adventure in snake herding with one of my MCRs, her objection, to the way our snake was handled, felt like contempt– for our elected removal rather than destruction of it. She haaaates snakes.   I do not hate,weaken, or destroy things that make me uncomfortable.  In this way, I differ from the family from which I come.  I do not like snakes or bugs, but they are not the enemies.  True, I prefer them outside of my home.  But the idea of killing hurts my soul.  Even the execution of the sickest individuals who have done the most atrocious and unforgivable things pains me. I can dislike and even fear someone or something without feeling called to annihilate.  My MCRs are far more dangerous and upsetting to me than even the most poisonous snake.   Like my visiting snake, I just need to live and let live, in safety.  Funny, each time I enter the garage, I do look for him and am almmoooost disappointed when I don’t spot him or a shedded skin left behind.  In a strange way, I love him.  Loving the things we cannot control is for BadAsses.  It is too difficult for others…  Love the verb-not the feeling.

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Even The Broken Clock is Right Twice a Day

Progress not perfection.  Check it out!  So, I purchased this can of shaving cream on clearance for $0.48 at Food Lion.  I bought 5 of them, actually.  The one shown in the trash bin was number 4 in my sequence of use.  After using only  25% of the product, it stopped putting out(for no good reason…oh wait, is it broken?)  I removed the top, and got a teeny tiny bit out. Feeling the weight of the remaining shaving cream–knowing it was in there, dammit, I wanted it, almost to the point of obsession.   To avoid being late for appointments, I brought can #5 into play which functions just fine. But– when I am showering without time limitation, I sit on that shower bench and work haaard, holding the can every which way, blasting it with hot water, using a safety pin to clear the valve, turning the dispenser top.  Total bullshit insanity.  But wait– 4 out of 27 times I have managed to extract just enough to shave an armpit, re-enforcing for me that maaaaybe, if I try hard enough, I can get just a little bit of what I need.  I know it is there.  Aaah, the broken effing clock strikes again. Today was a turning point. Whatever shaving cream I squeeze from the can is not worth the effort.  It s broken, not a reflection of my brokenness.  There are other cans—that work!!  Honestly, that shitty purple can mocked me from the shower ledge.  I felt like a loser for– a) buying it b) not being able to make it work c) trying too hard d) giving up. This is a fantastic metaphor for my entanglement with my MCRs.  It is not necessary or healthy to try so hard to get what I need.  Letting go is not losing, it is making way for what works.  Let go or be dragged, right?  Oh….The broken clock in its many forms! Tryyyyying too hard, that is a sign that I am forcing or denying, relying on willful determination. My need to tryyyyyy in this way can be traced back to my fears of scarcity and unworthiness.  But those, those are the lies and myths.  There is plenty of what is needed and I am totally worthy.  I am not great at everything,clearly, but I am nearly perfect at trying every day to do better than I did the day before.  Making better mistakes today than yesterday is for BadAsses.  Forcing and fearing is for bad asses.

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What We Focus on Grows

Today, I read.I  interview.  I explore career paths and interests. I am discovering that my strengths while not remarkable, are in writing, operational procedures, logistics, and configuration management.  I find deep and lasting satisfaction and effectiveness when I am engaged in these ways. I am energized. I MUST resume a more wholesome direction- away from efforts and obsession to make things of 50 years be different.  Beneath my despair and grief of the family I never had, there is the energy of who I really am, right there with my unique gifts, to enjoy, expand, and to share.  I will be intentional today.  What I focus on grows.

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No is a complete sentence.

Hi Friends, This eCard is fantastic.  My discovery of  a calm “no”, for my ex and family of origin is new behavior- and can be counted on either to be ignored or to incite war.  Dismissal and reprisal are reminders that it is best for me to limit proximity to anyone feeling inclined to diminish or dominate in these ways. From me, a definitive NO without anger, profanity, fear, or volume is progress.   Though apparently, it is confusing for those insistent on always being right  — accustomed to provoking me until I lose it and become  hysterical,  substantiatng my need for unkindness or mental help.  No. Nope.  Ah,Ah. Ok, sorry that won’t work out but let’s work together for a better arrangement.  It is acceptable for people to say No as needed.  Honoring boundaries is for BadAsses.  It is too much for others.

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Musings

Emotional Experience, Real, Though Not Universal
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screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-7-24-46-pm
Forgiveness
I have heard it said that “Forgiveness requires more than the intellectual...
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WBA-Terminology
What these words mean to me: Wholesome-spiritually /principle driven. (In my life,...
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screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-6-46-45-pm
Big Effen Surrender
  Today, I did something different. When I wanted to react, when I wanted to...
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Self Love

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Faith

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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

Emotional Experience, Real, Though Not Universal
Read More
screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-7-24-46-pm
Forgiveness
I have heard it said that “Forgiveness requires more than the intellectual...
Read More
WBA-Terminology
What these words mean to me: Wholesome-spiritually /principle driven. (In my life,...
Read More
screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-6-46-45-pm
Big Effen Surrender
  Today, I did something different. When I wanted to react, when I wanted to...
Read More
1 2 125 126 127 128

Self Love

No posts found

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Faith

No posts found

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.

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