Tag Archives: hurt

Forgiving. Forgiven?

11 Sunday Nov 2018

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At the start of every class, my yoga instructor will start by asking us to find our “intention” for our time on our mats. Today’s stretchy version of hell was brought to us by the young gent who all the ladies seem to appreciate and spend extra time prepping themselves, their outfits, and even their bodies for. I personally prefer the Russian woman because she kicks my ass and takes zero prisoners during her class. He….well, he has a more gentle approach. (Probably why his class is always wall to wall sweaty assholes and there’s usually only about 5 of us suckers in her class–I digress)

It was “intention time”. Typically mine land somewhere between “I want to relax” and “I dedicate my practice to finding peace in my heart”. Today, before I gave it any thought…my intention leaped out at me. I had barely bowed by third eye to my fingers and it came screaming into my head at a quiet whisper: forgive.

Who do I need to forgive? I don’t hold onto much anger. At least I didn’t use to. I only held onto it if holding on prevented me from being hurt again. But I wasn’t angry at anyone. I couldn’t think of anyone who had hurt me, was still hurting me.

I’ve been hurting. I’ve been hurting for a long time and I thought I understood why I was hurting and who was hurting me. As I bowed to my hands I began to cry. Right there on my damn mat, in the middle of dimly lit room, filled with sweaty ass strangers, and gentle but quirky modern music set as the backdrop for my mental breakdown.

I need to forgive myself.

I’ve been so angry.

A little over a year ago I found out I was pregnant. I kept it to myself, went to the doctor, took all the tests. I even recorded myself when they called to confirm the news. (Everyone records the dad finding out) I recorded me and my dog finding out. I didn’t tell anyone. I wanted to tell my husband first. I planned how I was going to tell him. I couldn’t believe we were able to get pregnant right away. I bought things, surprises, ways to tell him. I bought my (step) daughter a special gift for when I told her. I way over did it, of course. This was my first rodeo.  Halloween came and went–I didn’t drink because, you know “sober driver” wink wink. My doctor ran more test to be sure.

A little less than a year ago I found out I wasn’t pregnant anymore.

A year ago I found out I most likely never would be again.

I gave away everything I bought. Well, almost everything. I deleted the video. Gave away the books. Donated the life-size teddy bear. Today I realized how angry I’ve been at myself. Today I realized I can’t stretch, run, yoga, travel, drink, work, stress my way back to happiness. I have to find a way to forgive myself for this absolute failure of nature. Forgive myself for the way I planned and executed my life. (And I don’t mean that I would trade my life to do it differently) I need to be forgiven for absolute heart break my own body has caused. The finality of all my unanswered plans and dreams.

So this is where I’ve been, in case you wondered. My life is happy. But this sadness comes in unexpected waves. Sometimes I grant myself total relief from even my own judgement and allow myself to be human and fragile. Its these unexpected waves that run me over.

I know there is so much more to come in this life. I’m doing all the right things to get better. I could write a book on self-love and self-care. I’m not sure how to forgive myself. But I know that my practice today turned into something unexpected. I spent the first 5 minutes crying on my mat among strangers and spent the last 10 minutes the same. They say you should focus on your breathing during yoga. It helps to center you to what your body and soul need. As I sat there, breathing in and out tears, I focused on loving my whole self. After awhile, I was able to open my eyes and stand up.

I don’t know what forgiveness will look or feel like, I just know that if I were trying to forgive someone I love, I would be so much better at it. If a friend came to me I would tell her, “Oh my God, you are not at fault, don’t do this to yourself, you are perfect in this imperfect life!” I’ll let you know when I finally get there with myself. Until then, I’ll keep doing my wine+yoga+travel+work+writing+music+family+running therapy that should eventually lead to forgiven.

And there’s always music when words fail.  Kesha released this song only a couple months before I needed it.

 

Why Trust the Future We Created?

14 Tuesday Jul 2015

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Well it has been quite a while since I have had time to even try to write in this highly therapeutic journal. I have been struggling as usual. Work. Home. Friends. Everything. We recently moved to a new home, which was a chaotic and depressing nightmare, but now we are settled in somewhat. By settled I mean, we’ve unpacked, hung pictures on the walls, put dresses on hangers and stuffed animals on the bed. There’s a nightlight in the corner on the off-chance that we sleep at home more than once this summer. It’s summer, and you can guarantee 2 things in summer; construction and a full calendar!

Tonight is our nieces first big girl sleep over birthday party. We have all been excited for this for a while now. On our side, we have been hesitant to get too invested and excited, as if anyone remembers last year, we were in the exact. same. situation. And last year, we were all excited and ultimately disappointed when she wasn’t allowed to go because, and I quote, “Oh, HER family, so no one really important to Peanut.” Tuesdays, are not our nights. BUT, Peanut always spends Tuesdays overnight at her grandparents house, an arrangement we agreed to about 6 months after it was happening and we were finally “notified”. As agreed by all 3 parties (grandparents included), Peanut gets to spend the night at her best friend’s house tonight. She is so excited. She picked out a gift, wrapped her birthday present, and talked all night about what they were going to do and “You’re not going to stay are you?”(to us)

In keeping with general expectations, Peanut is no longer allowed to go to her first big girl sleep over party. I’m heart-broken for her. I’m heart-broken for my niece. I am angry beyond words. The statement, “I put my daughter first in everything” is a lie. When you take something away from her, from another little girl, and a family, because you are angry, because everyone didn’t bow down instantly to your insane demands, you are not putting her first. You are, as you always have, putting yourself first and trying to paint over that this beautiful picture of a loving mother. Your paint is water, and your canvas tissue paper. How can you punish a little girl, because your irrational emotional brain can’t move on? How do you hurt “your whole world” because you’re still angry your ex doesn’t love you anymore? Where in your mind does this cruel behavior and punishment of a child for the wrongs done to you 5 years ago compute to rational, acceptable, appropriate justice?

How do we shield her from all of this? How do we combat the ever-present rotation of boyfriends? The misguided lessons? The warped view of the world and how it works? The new belief that all boys are bad? All boys lie to you and trick you? That you can live a positive and successful happy life by taking and demanding and throwing a fit until others comply? How do we fight this?

To her credit, my beautiful smart little Peanut tries every day to be a good person. She tries to learn, speak properly, apologizes too much for her age. She doesn’t understand empathy, but she shows it. She doesn’t recognize when she is behaving rudely, but she corrects it. She gets too rough with her puppy, but accepts our direction to be loving and changes her tone with him. She questions people’s behavior that she sees and listens to reason, but doesn’t realize she acts similar too. She’s so little, and so sassy. She believes in us and she believes in her mother. She fights with her best friend, and makes up instantly. She understands this world in the way we create it for her. She trusts us, she trusts her mother. Why would you ever allow her pain because of your grown-up issues? Why would we not try to learn, to speak properly to one another, and to apologize too much? Why would we not show empathy, and try to understand it? Why would we not recognize when we are behaving rudely, and correct it? Why would we not be loving when we are too rough? Why do we question other people’s behavior and not our own? Why can’t we be little and sassy? Why can’t we believe in us and believe in her mother? Why can’t we fight with our best friend and instantly make up? Why can’t we understand this world that we created for her? When do we trust ourselves, will we ever be able to trust her?

Burying pain with kindness

06 Wednesday May 2015

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Let me start by wishing all of you Mommy’s out there a happy Mother’s day! I hope those of you who struggle regularly with the general lack of acceptance of you as a “real” mother, have someone out there this weekend who will call, or write, or text you “Happy Mother’s Day!” In case you do not, let me be the first to honor you, all that you do, all of your heartache, all of your sacrifice, all of your tears of joy and pain; let me be the first to honor you, and wish you a beautiful, blessed Mother’s Day.

I have been crushed through my core in the past. I have been hurt in ways that even my anger couldn’t conjure a cursing riddled with my experiences against another person. I’ve fought and clawed my way back from pain that I shouldn’t have known. Because of my fight for me, I struggle with believing in others. I often struggle with believing in humanity as a good and kind body, capable of honesty and value and positive impact. My career dampens my faith in others ever more, showing me daily the cruel, selfish, and self-serving side of our futures. Trust is a priceless commodity for me, and it takes years to acquire it.

Quite expectedly, it takes moments to shatter what trust you may have stored in your cache of me. I have been building, and working, and fighting for trust to surround me. I have limited my circle to very few, count maybe two hands (including my family). I recently welcomed a few into my circle, believing, having faith that I could trust in them. Believing that they supported me, supported us, what we are trying so desperately to do. I am heart-broken at the loss. I searched frantically for a text-book response to my hurt. Searching for a way to put my heart back together. Angry at how easily I’ve allowed yet another human being to get close enough to crush me. Shocked at my naivety that maybe they wouldn’t. I can’t go back into that black hole. I can’t come back from that darkness again. I never want to be surrounded by that kind of sad emptiness. I can respond differently. I can be stronger. I can bury my pain with kindness, even though you would say they don’t deserve my kindness.

I went out for a bottle of wine. And came back with supplies to make homemade Mother’s Day presents. One for each Mommy in her life. The grandma’s included. She is so excited to be making gifts. So ecstatic to pick out paper to wrap them in. So joyful to have something to give to those she loves on this blessed day to honor Mothers.  So beautiful as her eyes light up in understanding as she points to herself whispering “My Mommy” when I say, “And who is the best Mommy in the world that we should make the most special gift for?” Such accepting, beautiful, wonder and fascination in “our” little secret. No, these are not my Mothers, these women have managed to level a pain against me that I don’t fully understand, can’t fully process beyond my very rare tears. No, these Mothers are wonder and beauty and loving and kind to her. So in my pain, the only thing I can do to continue forward, is to repay in kindness and honor who they are in her life with love.mother-429158_640

Everyone Breaks

17 Wednesday Dec 2014

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I am a machine.

Because I don’t know how to stop.

I am indestructible.

Because I was hardened against pain young.

I will always win.

Because I was raised to win.

I am the best. 

Because I know that I am so far from perfect.

I’ve taken 2 sick days from work in the past week. That’s in addition to the 2 scheduled off days. I haven’t called off of work in roughly 7 years. And here I am. Incapacitated. I’ve apparently developed sinus problems, as well as a potential heart problem. Numerous appointments to come. What is making me fall apart?

I informed my doctor that my life is no more stressful than it was 6 months ago, in fact it might be less! That I couldn’t understand why the attacks were escalating. And after being up late into the morning last night, mostly crying and struggling to understand and accept the current round of chaos, that I realized I’m not ok. My life is not less stressful. My life has hit turbo on the insanity button.

There are arguments over the dog. (That I started). Arguments over the schedule (That she started). Arguments over the future (I maintain that it’s hopeless). Bitter snipes about bad decisions in the past. (That I throw like candy at the 4th of July parade). And there are fireworks. And tears. And stress. And pain. And attacks to my heart on an ever escalating scale.

Something has to change. Today, I told him I am out of the process for Xmas. Whatever he comes up with, he manages the fallout. I can’t control this situation, so I will spend the next 8 days finding peace in knowing I can control my acceptance. I can control if I bake the cookies. I can control my preparations for our family Xmas party. I cannot control what happens on Christmas Eve. And really, no matter what, there’s no positive outcome.

So I’m going to rest in bed. And pray. And make my appointments. Everyone else can wait. I need to pray for sanity and strength and peace. (And for this migraine/heart problem/sinus chaos to go away quickly!)

I am tired.

I am loving.

I am weak. 

I am loved.