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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Love is kind-right?

Not until my older son was diagnosed at 18 months with sensory integration disorder(SPD), did I learn why I had been uncomfortable, tense, overly-stressed my entire life, particularly for family occasions where food smells and volume alone, felt cruel.  The word overwhelming does not begin to describe those experiences.  I came to believe I was the “pain in the ass” I was reported to be, unworthy of comfort and connection.  I learned to hate who I was-at a cellular level, my existence was all wrong.  I was angry and as my family likes to remind me, very difficult.  Who wouldn’t have been difficult in the circumstances?  Totally owning that!!! Not knowing how to seek shelter from sensory stimulus had a devastating impact;  In my family, those  unwilling unable to mask signs of stress and discomfort are not be tolerated or indulged.  I believe much of the wreckage of my life has its origins here, leading my fruitless pursuit for connection with emotionally remote others.

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Go Where The Love Is

  Easy Love is the good feeling that happens when something or someone pleases us.  BadAss Love is a commitment, a promise.   Love is kind.  Love wants the best for us without condition.  For some of us, love takes practice and requires a model or a program.

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Inside Jokes and Situational Nicknames

Needy as shit this week, I have been relentless- calling Sweet Greg or peppering him with texts with a word or reference to something hysterically funny, to only the two of us. While it is for amusement,  I do this for assurance…subtextually asking,”were you really there?  did this really happen?  are we connected?”  Consistently, he blows my mind with quick and clever responses, both fun and affirming.  Our best laughs are almost always those in which we are laughing directly AT our selves, not at each other…or at someone else, but only because we are relating—in that humbled insider kind of way. I feast on moments of shared synchronized laughter with Greg which get boiled down from a story to a single word or phrase that will NEVER DIE.  Unceasingly, we bring it back and inject it whenever possible.  Difficult to know if our inside jokes are the cause or the result of our deep knowing of each other.  The laughing is from a place or relating.  It is the expression of joy- of being inside and knowing together. It is wholesome!   It is not that weird, scary laugh, AT the expense of another.  The constant unspoken message is “I get you, I totally get you.”   We are united in the sentiment that nothing is funny if it causes someone actual pain.  Mean humor, I no longer appreciate or tolerate.  AND I have done more than my share.  More unlearning… Laughter is healing and comforting and sexy.  It is absolutely the shortest distance between two people.  I am finding that with my Trusted Others, together, we are able to cry as deeply as we laugh. I am grateful to have recovered a wholesome sense of humor.  For decades I enjoyed and employed humor that was aimed passively or even actively at diminishing others.  I am sorry for that.  But- I am happy to now have the Courage to Change.  Changing and growing is for badasses!  Wholesome laughter is for Badasses.  The other kind is for bad asses.

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Get Back Up! (again)

This position is uncomfortable and I prefer the other view. Deep Breath. I will get myself up- do the next right thing.  Dogs to groomer, serve my boss,  be present for the joy of preparing for my older son’s birthday party.  It would be much easier to lay here indulging fantasy and regret. If I spend one minute thinking of those who might enjoy smugly eluding to their sympathy for me with each other, that is a minute wasted.  Today, I am free to focus on love and kindness.  I am free to be of service to someone in need.  I am free to feel and share and heal my pain.  I am free to be angry and to work through it, without denying it or trying to offload it onto anyone.  I am free to resume this position at any time. Oh, goody.

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Musings

Fearless Humor--Only a BadAss Would Own this Thinking
We Who Are Your Closest Friends by Phillip Lopate   we who are your closest...
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Absolute Authenticity Has Its Price
My commitment to living, loving, serving, and feeling with my whole heart is separating...
Read More
BadAss Lil Warrior
My mother after her 6th chemo treatment. I think she looks like a beautiful courageous...
Read More
GOD's Grace
In 2010, my now ex-husband left our home per court direction. But, only after intentionally...
Read More
1 2 126 127 128

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

Fearless Humor--Only a BadAss Would Own this Thinking
We Who Are Your Closest Friends by Phillip Lopate   we who are your closest...
Read More
Absolute Authenticity Has Its Price
My commitment to living, loving, serving, and feeling with my whole heart is separating...
Read More
BadAss Lil Warrior
My mother after her 6th chemo treatment. I think she looks like a beautiful courageous...
Read More
GOD's Grace
In 2010, my now ex-husband left our home per court direction. But, only after intentionally...
Read More
1 2 126 127 128

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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