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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.

Never say Never

With active substance abuse and addiction, running in all directions of our family tree, we get to have many discussions on this matter. Both my boys insist they will never try alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, because those things are gross and make no sense. I explained that it is likely that they will be offered those things and may try them, BUT- if they like it, it may be more difficult for them to stop, than for someone without addiction and abuse in their families, and that I will be here for them. They can always come to me. They roared as I sheepishly admitted details of my friends and I using cigarettes, pot, and alcohol. I was explicit in conveying that my hope for them is not that “they never try it”, but that if they do try it, they do so, only with people whom they trust. There are those whom might offer them something that is not what they say it is, and that could be dangerous, even fatal. And also, trying drugs with a trusted other because you are curious might be fun, while trying something you do not want because you are afraid of what a person might say to or about you will leave you feeling bad, period. More than anything, I want to teach them to trust their guts, trust truth, trust kindness, trust in people who have proven to be trustworthy, kind, benevolent, fierce truth tellers. These conversations led us directly into–how it is possible and common for people to lie and mis-represent by telling only partial truths, deliberately not sharing all information necessary for accurate context. We clarified what it means to lie. It can be done by omission. Lying is deception and intentional mis-representation, not just speaking of words lacking factual accuracy. Truth speaking requires courage and faith and full disclosure, transparency. Lying is what people resort to, when they want something not meant for them or when they are avoiding consequences that would naturally be theirs. Lying is for trying to manipulate what others think. For them to get used to or confused by the omissions, partial truths, and words that are out of line with actions– will otherwise, make them doubt themselves, rather than the people in positions of authority who are misrepresenting and creating confusion- DIS-EASE. This, I cannot have. Our bittersweet journey through demystification continues. The ongoing loss of innocence is at least brought into balance by our illuminating conversations, offering us shared language to discuss matters which would otherwise defy articulation. I do not need for them to get straight A’s, be popular, cool, or athletic all-stars. I need for them to believe in truth, to find comfort in truth, to speak truth–for themselves and for those who cannot. My measure of parental success is weighted by their dedication to being good citizens, protectors, helpers, witnesses. The one thing in which I hope my boys will strive to NEVER– is denying their feelings and truths or even denying the feelings and truths of others. I firmly believe in a strong link, between denial of feelings and the need to self soothe in ways which prohibit healing and growth. Grow and heal sweet boys. Please. Be healers and growers.

You Can’t Make Me and Neither Can I

“You can’t make me and neither can I.” I am almost finished with Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies and this line really stayed with me. ???Hard truth. Discipline over my thinking is a daily struggle. I think as a result of having my reality challenged, debated, and dismissed for most of my life. I became obsessed with trying to prove my truths and adamantly resistant to those who insisted on trying to dictate my reality– and ultimately also gave up on self-discipline. The only things in charge of me were the fear, shame and guilt for feeling how I felt in the company of those who disapproved mightily and collectively. Help with my thinking is the only thing for which I pray. Praying, for me, just means alone time dedicated to articulating my awareness of my need for help, from a power greater than myself. My will or the will of another human is not enough to get me to do, feel, believe a thing. My program offers me the tools to navigate and to allow my thinking and instincts to become changed, one day at a time. I will not be bullied by another person or group, or even myself, into living my best life. Flow not force! The grief of my mother’s passing and the family to which I was born, wreaked havoc on my body this week, leaving me with debilitating sciatica. On the way to the accupuncturist, I passed the Cancer Treatment Center where I sat thru many treatments and drs visits with my late mother. I also drove past the hospital where she underwent some scary surgeries and recoveries. At the time, I was terrified, not that she would die, but of the proximity to my mother, my sister and her hubz. And that my mother and I would resume our historical dynamic, once she was well, as we had not done the work of healing. While she was ill, housebound, helpless, and lonely, she appreciated me, my presence. And once well enough, it seemed my only role was to submit to words and plans that openly diminished me. Relocating my family, to be of service, in this critical time was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done (besides knowingly marrying someone identical to those I fled). Nobody could have forced me to or stopped me from our move, because it was the right thing to do. I am grateful that I did. And– it has been only slightly more painful than anything I would have dared to imagine.

Trust in Kindness

It is painful to witness my boys being expected to suffer silently or get comfortable in the presence of unkindness. Their father and I have very different principles and versions reality. Obviously. The ways in which we differ are the exact ways in which he relates to my mother and sister. Just as I cannot discern who is telling the truth when my boys come to me in conflict with accusations, they cannot be expected to discern the “truth” between their parents . They want and deserve to believe in us both. This possibility has been snatched from them, not by divorce but by an unwholesome and damaging triangulation of my ex, my sister, and my mother. The most I can hope and model for our sons, is to recognize genuine kindness– To learn to discriminate between friendly(social) and kind. A person can be friendly and social with one person and harsh and mean to another. Kindness is not conditional, like friendliness. It is not dependent on liking a person. Kind people just are. Some of the most well known sociopaths and criminals are reported to be friendly and charming. Both of my boys have first hand experience with charming bullies. If a person behaves in ways that are cruel and diminishing to any other human, animal, or even the earth, they are not kind. Kind is not subjective. Kindness is unrelated to friendliness or how well you enjoy a person or situation. Kindness is a value and a practice. Kind is not scary and does not judge or gossip. It does not require you to pretend to like, want ,or be ok with things which are not ok. Kindness can be trusted. Because kindness, by definition, would exclude dishonesty. It is not possible to change the people to whom my sons are related and exposed. But I will break this freaking cycle of dysfunction, even if I just knock a chip of it off, that is progress. Overturning one sick myth and ritual at a time. Information is power. Faith is power. Higher power is power. For the models of unyielding kindness and honesty in our lives, I am grateful. #blessed Because when you are not frequently exposed to kindness and gentleness, it is unfamiliar. While my children know they cannot count on me to feel happy or calm(sad truth), they can count on me to truth tell and own and work on my bullshit. 100%!! And to expose them only to Trusted Others—people who, as a rule, are kind and truthful, benevolent. In their entire lives, I have not lied to them or misrepresented in the slightest. Nor have I offered them up to any kind of non-love. They trust that they can say, do, and feel anything in my presence and it does not diminish my love for and commitment to them. Both of them. Differently but equally. For today, I am giving up my need to be right or believed, because that is unwholesome and unreasonable and always leaves me sad. Instead, I will call out acts of kindness, courage, and truth telling. Attempting to manage people’s perceptions of the past is an insane and manipulative waste of time. Yuck. Letting that go. I miss out on the abundance of kindness in my world while I am tangled up trying to understand or prove unkindness of the past. Reclaiming my emotional sobriety, so I will gladly accept that Day 1 chip. Thank you very much. ?

Day 15 I Can Not Be Counted On

I Can Not Be Counted On: To be perfect To be manipulated by fear, favoritism, or gifts To agree or even feign agreement To pretend that things are different from how they are To act as if I like or want what I do not To tolerate diminishing situations of any sort To retaliate or engage in dishonest dynamics(which are non-optional) To participate in gossip, flattery, or people pleasing I Can Be Counted On: To continue putting one foot in front of the other To practice radical self-love and self-care To make better mistakes today, than yesterday To participate in difficult conversations To work toward resolution To speak truth and practice courageous honesty To practice humility and forgiveness To have courage and faith in a power greater than myself To make amends when possible To prioritize Kindness and Service To excuse myself from things not meant for me To support anything which strengthens and nourishes my children’s spirits and to object to anything which imposes on their serenity and sense of overall wellness and security To break the cycle of abuse in my family To be honest with my children about mental health and wellness, addiction, recovery, kindness, honesty, loyalty, and integrity To laugh too loud To say inappropriate things and to overshare To feel deeply and to love hard To listen with empathy and hold space, even when I do not understand. I may not relate to a person’s exact experience, but I will always openly relate to difficult feelings, struggle and fear. This is one of my more wholesome badass super powers.

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

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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.