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.

Read More »

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.

Read More »

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.

Read More »

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Pills That are Hard to Swallow

Trying to surrender my current prayer of “Make it fucken stop” for “PLEASE ?? Help me become willing to accept the things I cannot change and to just love the hell out of my sons and my people”. Digging deep to accept the things I dislike and over which I have no power. Recovery teaches me that if it is a problem, there will be a solution. If there is no solution, it is not a problem, but an unpleasant fact—to be accepted. Not, the feeling of “It is ok” but the practice of acceptance—doing nothing to try and make it be different from how it IS. I am so very distraught over my boys being used in a game of egos. My sons will lose, no matter what. Anything that requires dissociation is toxic. My pain stems from my lack of acceptance that my sister and ex actively submit my children to things from which they will need to numb or recover. These are the pills which I am gagging down—as many times as it takes. My reaction to the bullshit is neither wholesome nor badass.  AND, I cannot even contemplate grief over the death of my mother- becuase I am too tangled up with my despair over the damage which is righteously heaped uponon my children.  Trauma and dysfunction are messy. Grief is messy.  Healing is messy.

Read More »

BUT WHY THO—Dear Mom

I have never, not ever, not once in 50 years had a moment of resolution with my mother or sister in which each of the people own their contributions to the situation.  All initiatives by me are handled one of three ways:  1-No response.  2- A response that does not acknowledge what I have said but offers me the standing invitation to come pretend everything is ok–to put it all behind us.  Because the only real transgressions are open expressions of feeling or conflict.  It is more acceptable to be openly hurtful than to openly express being hurt.  And finally, my favorite of all(especially when many are copied) 3-Character assassination.  I am certain they agree that if I were less shitty, they wouldn’t HAVE to do that.  I cannot take responsibility for the words and actions of others.  Program teaches me what is and is not mine. It will be interesting to see if this attempt will be any different.  My older son is so distraught by escalated tension between his father and me, by the triangulation of him with my family–and the reality that for as long as it remains like this, my children can not count on a healed family holiday, seated at a table with both of their parents.  I feel I must try something.  Also, we did not trek our entire lives cross country so that my mother could go to her grave with this bullshit hanging between us. Here it is↓: —– Forwarded Message —– From:  <> To:  <> Sent: Tuesday, December 4, 2018 12:27 PM Subject: Holiday Healing Hi Mom, Will there come a day when we will each willingly reflect on our own behaviors and commit to something better? Healing is amazing.  Why not?? Right?  The clock is ticking.  Loudly. The current arrangement is damaging my boys for obvious reasons– adding divisive tension between their father and me.  Perhaps you had not considered that. I have spent most of my life suffering our dynamic.  But, now it is too painful to witness its affects on our children when we, their parents, cannot collaborate effectively or in peace, because of this added and un-necessary divisiveness.  R cannot do better.  But… I must believe a mother and sister can do better than a scorned ex-husband. Best, Maggie

Read More »

Rest In Peace

Yesterday, overly tired from waking at 4am, unable to return to sleep. I ruined myself from 4-8am, with recycled, if not hysterical thoughts of my older son and the cloud hung over his birthdayS, by his father and my sister.  Lack of sleep will make a person tired.  And, for someone like me, I am crushed, in the sleepless hours, by obsession with upsetting things over which I am powerless.  When mentally fatigued from nights like this, I am unreasonable, insensitive to others, even the Little’s who deserve and count on a more wholesome steady source for guidance and support. Thank Gawd for last night’s peaceful and undisrupted rest.  It  has restored me, for today, leaving me capable of honest self reflection. So,  for Sunday night dinner with S1 last night, to my tired mind, S1 seemed unreasonably difficult and disagreeable.  My home-training says to “punish that shit–nip it in the bud! Hard!”.  Recovery suggests PAUSE- practice patience and look to see what is really going on, with him, with myself.  But see, I was beat and could hear mostly my own historical messages, suggesting harshness as a swift means to gain control.  GROSS.  Thank Gawd, Sweet Greg casually noted:  “Wow, he seems tired.”  SG shared this without agenda, a wise observation of an escalating struggle to get teeth cleaned and clothes put away. Because of Greg’s sanity and love(the wholesome yummy kind), I was able to re-direct myself and ask S1:  Do you want to go lie down in your bed and have alone time before returning to your dad’s?  Or would you like for us all to go in my room and hang out together?  He chose and raced to my room,  to get in my bed, on my side, under my weighted blanket.  His whole vibe elevated.  He needed our proximity, without engagement, not to be alone, but to be allowed to mentally unhook, not enmeshed, abandoned or banished.  I totally relate to  that:  the need to feel organic closeness without entanglement.  THIS is exactly how I felt and what I needed, on the day that Greg agreed to our silent hike(when I tricked him into loving me), 3 years ago.  Oh Sweet Greg,  I am so grateful for his way.  Though, I do make certain to, repeatedly, remind him that he cannot take full credit for his good spirit and cheerful attitude as he was born and raised that way.  We laugh, he really is (mostly)divine.  Who cares why?  I take no credit for having not been born easy breezy or into a nurturing environment.  I do take credit for all of the practices of love, which I am learning, in adulthood,  diametrically opposed to what I experienced, observed, and believed abut love, parenting, control, connection, family, and God.  I claim credit, only for the changes I am willing to make.  Self reflection and correction are wholesome and badass.  They are not for everyone, though. I took on useless toxic coping and living skills(habits, more than skills) and will dutifully spend my life unlearning– and practicing better ways.  I choose to break habits and cycles. I am a work in progress.  #blessed

Read More »

Fake Peace

I am grateful (though broken hearted) that I was able to tell my older son (S1) and his father, in no uncertain terms, that I would not participate a shared birthday celebration together with dad, as things currently are–that things may still change and how sorry I am for the pain which this causes.  His father and I are at a place where I have asked him to do pick ups from outside our home until he chooses to communicate responsibly and fairly with me regarding logistics for shared responsibilities.(You may not enter my home and place of rest if you cannot be counted on for the most basic consideration and integrity.)Needless complexity is unwelcome.  It is not a lot to ask.  “If you are going to be late, early, or deviate from the plan in a way that affects us, please let me know.”  But, nope.  This is literally identical to the fall out with my sister.  Her response to this was to circumvent me to gain access to my children and bond with my ex who is similarly vexed.  Consideration is reserved strictly for those who are useful to them.

Read More »

Musings

Why Lie
Alone in the car with my younger son, today, I pretended to take credit for saying...
Read More
Some Letters
Angry letters I would write and send if not for recovery.  I have anger, but it is...
Read More
IMG_4672
The Part Where You Fucked Up
For the record, my favorite part of every story, is the part where I fucked up and...
Read More
The Smiling Poop Emoji
A pile of poop with a smile, is still poop.  Sunday’s sermon began with...
Read More
1 2 63 64 65 127 128

Self Love

Insanity is...
…doing the same thing and expecting different results.  By this measure, I...
Read More
Feelings are not Facts
The “feelings are not facts” words do not tell me not to feel major grief...
Read More
Sadness- Part of the Healing Process
Today, I am deep into feeling, owning and healing from my tough beginnings in this...
Read More
Building and Destroying Trust
I am still contemplating the “dream” and the killing. My husband(in the...
Read More
1 62 63 64 65 66 71

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.

Musings

Why Lie
Alone in the car with my younger son, today, I pretended to take credit for saying...
Read More
Some Letters
Angry letters I would write and send if not for recovery.  I have anger, but it is...
Read More
IMG_4672
The Part Where You Fucked Up
For the record, my favorite part of every story, is the part where I fucked up and...
Read More
The Smiling Poop Emoji
A pile of poop with a smile, is still poop.  Sunday’s sermon began with...
Read More
1 2 63 64 65 127 128

Self Love

Insanity is...
…doing the same thing and expecting different results.  By this measure, I...
Read More
Feelings are not Facts
The “feelings are not facts” words do not tell me not to feel major grief...
Read More
Sadness- Part of the Healing Process
Today, I am deep into feeling, owning and healing from my tough beginnings in this...
Read More
Building and Destroying Trust
I am still contemplating the “dream” and the killing. My husband(in the...
Read More
1 62 63 64 65 66 71

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.

Recent Posts

Feeling Safe with Others
Purpose, Belonging, Direction
I read a quote today which...
IMG_5521
Just Shut Up
The messages from my family...
IMG_5692
I'm not angry. I'm overwhelmed.
It’s painful to recall being...
Unsafe Family System
Accuracy of Language
I am gradually acquiring better...
We'll figure it out together is a love language- Steve Maraboli Phototext
Rupture and Repair
The culmination of sleep deprivation,...
Stages of Trauma Healing
Breakdown or Breakthrough
Today, in rush hour traffic,...
Chronic paind and depression. The struggle is real. #lethargic
National Son’s Day
Ugh, another day to grieve. ...
what healing looks like- what being triggered looks like
Healing and Living
What my healing looks like: I...
IMG_5519
Truthful vs Honest
The irreparable damage of...
Narcissistic Abuse Toxic Positivity Fake Peace
Just Be Positive
I needed something from the...