Category Archives: anger

Gentle Words

I used my words harshly today. I didn’t mean to, it was just the way they came out. I admonished instead of explaining. I scolded instead of entertaining the idea that the meaning of what was said was misunderstood. In brought down instead of listing up. I sent him off to school with out a smile on his face and now I feel a profound sense of guilt.

As a parent I know that it is easier to jump in at any moment and criticize instead of taking the time to understand. You get caught up in what is going on that instead of reaching out and finding the child within yourself you look at it at without taking the time to break it down as if you were the child yourself. It is one of our biggest fats. It rips our children to shreds as it can tear apart their small psyches. I try to not jump onto the bandwagon but sometimes I slip, this morning was one of those times.

I find it lately, specially during this time of year I get so caught up in my own head that I forget my mood effects theirs. They want my attention and love and I am just looking for an escape from the memory of yesteryear. I have not been paying the best attention to the world around me. But they are my world. I need to pull myself out of this funk. I need to put my priorities back in line. Catch up on what counts. Write more, sleep less. Stop letting the memories burden me and really just enjoy the now. Speak gently and let those snap judgements fall away. Later I’ll apologize for my harsh words and though I know I’ll be forgiven I hope that I didn’t leave a permanent mark. 

Be kind to yourself and to others

Xoxo

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Why I won’t go to PTO meetings…I’ll always be the odd Mom out.

The first time I stepped foot on that playground, I felt as if I was in a whole new world. Sure my baby was entering Kindergarten, but it was like a new world for me to. There were so many new people that I didn’t know. Plastering a smile on my face, I held fast to my scared little boys hand not letting him see the fear in my own eyes. After he was in and settled, I lingered there for the parents meet and greet. Since I was new to the are, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to start to make friends with the people whose children nine would grow and k earn with. I was so excited that these were the parents who would stand beside me as we faced trials and tribulations together. I had visions of fundraisers, sporting events, school dances in my head. Moments later, my visions were crushed and I went home with my pride limping behind me. Everywhere I turned I was snubbed, from the Moms in pj pants with slippers to the ones in the jeans and rock shirts and the ones dressed for work, not one of them glanced my way. My smile was met with a forced show of teeth, bared as if to pounce. My words cut off suitably shorts. My greetings falling on deaf ears. Did I say someth I ng wrong? Did I smell funny? Dress too out if place? I couldn’t figure it out. Chalking it up to first day jitters I limped my pride home and was ever so hopefully for day two.

The days came and went like the ones before. It didn’t matter what I wore, how enthusiastic I was or what I had to say. These women had known each other for ages or just didn’t need a new person invading their territory. I began to blame myself for the fact that my son never brought home friends. Because his Mom was a little too different. A little to single. A little too New York. I tried again two years later, when my daughter joined him in school. I went to my first PTO meeting. But the results weren’t much better. I spoke a little too much, my ideas were a little too strange, I was a little too much. So I began to make up excuses not to go. They never asked for a reason but it made me feel better just in case any of them cared, I knew they didn’t. 

When I moved into a new neighborhood I thought things would get better. I never realized how wrong I would be. My kids still go to the same school. But now the stakes are up. Because I don’t fit into the socioeconomic structure of where I live. I get by because I fight to do it. My kids are put first because that’s where I put them. But the cold shoulders never seem to cease. It’s like I have taken out an add for an airplane that Flys overhead with the sign that says outcast her perpetually over my head. My efforts to fit in have fallen to the wayside. I am just not part of the cool Moms club. I don’t go to PTO meets and don’t discuss plans with other Moms. There are no hang outs or coffee dates because really why would I sit around to be ignored. And on regular days, I am ok with being the odd Mom out. 

But today is the anti bullying rally. Something I have brought up time and time again. I was supposed to have a large role in it. And once again I was passed over. Now instead of being a part of the assembly I am passing out stickers. Because that’s what they really need me to do. Out of everything I could have done. Stickers. Because I am not a PTO Mom. Even though the teachers know me. And that I am a champion for the cause. Stickers. Because the popular girls are more popular. Now you tell me how that’s not bullying. How that doesn’t make a person feel invalidated. You tell me I’m wrong. 

I believe in this cause because I am the odd one out. And it hurts and feels bad and makes your heart break. And that’s what my heart is. Broken. This is not the side I show my kids. This is not what adults should do. But adults can be bullies too. Im stronger than what anyone can throw at me. Im know in my heart i am a good person and a good Mom. I dont have to change myself to fut into a stereotype to meet what they need me to be. This is why I’ll never step foot inside a PTO meeting again.

Take back those words

Can we take back all the words that I have said that were cruel and unusual in the past 24 hours? Not just to others but you myself as well. Take back the pain, the hurt. The frustration , the tears. Can we hold on to the precious few moments that I felt like I was doing something of value instead of screwing up everything I set my mind, my hands, my eyes my heart to?

Can I know where the messages in my brain came that nothing was good enough. That all of a sudden I was this failure. Can you fix those short circuit ingredients wires and replace them in my head. Can you dry up the tears that fell from my cheeks as I cried over the fact that I wasn’t good enough for them, to cherish their laughter, to deserve their sticky kisses. Those thoughts don’t belong here anymore.

Long have I worked to prove to myself that I could make it through the hardships. Long have I toiled, re-education my brain to prove to myself I was worthy of everything I had put so much effort towards. But today…yesterday. feels like all that effort was in vain.

Black stormy clouds took over my head and down I sank. Clawing my way to some sense of peace. That I was going to be ok. To stop judging. To picking away at parts of myself that had scarred over. I struggled through the day just to fall into a restless sleep.

And upon awake the cloud not black but grey. Could I make it through. Would the sunshine and push away the sorrow that and stole my peace. I’m fighting. Fighting so hard. Counting the blessings.

Kids

Healthy

Writing

Sparkles

Home

Food

Family

But I feel unworthy. Why. Why is the question. I have no answers. No answers but I’m pushing through. Just have to make it. Make it till Thierry smiles can chase the clouds away once more. I’ll get there.

So many changes. Changes provoking thoughts. Thoughts pushing me so hard. But my body isn’t ready. Rest. Rest. I will be strong enough to do what I have to. In time. Not all at once. Shhh. Rest now. I will get through this. I will get through

Sparkle thoughts

I’m ALLOWED to have a BAD day!

I’m just having a bad day. Isn’t a girl allowed to have a bad day? For no reason other than she woke up sad. There’s a lot if things going on and I’m having a bad day. I feel scared, alone, exhausted. I feel netvous anxious. I feel like the tears are coming from no where and I can’t explain them. You ask me why and I say I don’t know. I can’t tell you why I feel this way. I can tell you the kids are just fine. This has nothing to do with my miraculous little creatutes. This has nothing to do with their father. He’s alrite in my book too. 

This has to do with the fact that I feel so very alone. That words and memories and songs keep playing through my head like faded memories and I can’t make themstop. I can make them go away. That I’m fighting this battle, this amazing, fantastic journey and I’m doing it all alone. And yes I’m fucking proud of nyself. It has nothing to do with pride. It has to do with I wish I had someone to hold my hand. To tell me ill be ok. To hold me through my what if and im scareds. To tell me they were right there beside me all along and you know what I don’t. And I’m mad. And I’m sad. And yes I’m allowed to be sad. I’m allowed to want to curl up and be held and just worry for a little while. 

I have all these emotions. I’m feeling all these things. This year’s has been so hard and I’ve been through so much already. And yes this is my journey, my step towards a better me, a healthier me, a new life. But I’m fucking scared. I’m scared that this is how it with always be. An uphill battle. Me against the world. With nothing soft to come home to. I miss the soft. I want the other side of my bed to be warm. I want comfort in knowing my insides are loved as much as my outsides. I want my forever. I want to stop THINKING about it. It hurts. I’m tired of it hurting. The hurt springing frp. No where at random times. Random moments of goid, like in the shower when I’m peaceful and safe and the thought of a forever moment creeps up. Because I let my mind go a little to easy. I let the wall crash down. I let myself relax.

This is the person I don’t let you see. The girl behind the mask. The girl who still has the softness to her. The fear of letting the world in. The one that wants to be held. Craves to be cherished. The girl that sits, weeping in her parked car, at the edge of a park. Instead of going home to sit in her room. Because maybe I can get over this and still make something of my day. All I want to do is eat. And I can’t eat. I gave up that line of defense. 

I’m allowing myself this time to have a bad day. Because it’s ok for me to cry. It’s ok for me to want. It’s ok for me to feel. I just wish….wish I had the switch to make it all ok again.

Radical Acceptance

This is a topic we covered in depth at DBT today. It is a topic that comes up quite a bit in distress tolerance and one that is the hardest for me to grasp. Mind you I know exactly what it is, I know how to do it (in theory) and I know how it works. But fuck my life if it comes easily to me. I sit here listening to a playlist I made on Spotify for one of the many manuscripts I am writing and I have tears dripping down my cheeks. The only saving grace is that I already cried off all of my eyeliner in the last hour of the group, so I am not going to look like a raccoon after writing this. I am sitting here staring at my phone, not paying attention to the keys I am pressing, knowing I can just auto correct this in Grammarly and repeating to myself “Radical Acceptance Shaye, do NOT pick up that phone, don’t do it, you are stronger than this…”.

The principle of radical acceptance is that things happen in life that is painful, stressful, hurtful and sad and you just have to accept them. You accept that these things happen and move forward. You can’t change them, you can’t change the emotions they cause so you accept them for what they are and you go forward in your life. Easy right? For more things yes, yes they can be considered very easy. Sometimes, accepting things comes very easy to individuals and sometimes they are very hard. My therapist put it this way. There is a difference between pain and suffering. It is like stepping on a nail. You can feel the pain and take your foot off the nail and move on, or you can keep your foot on that nail and continue to feel the pain…THAT is suffering. The point of radical acceptance is to not let yourself suffer. I have radically accepted a lot of things in my life. But one thing, in particular, I have realized I have accepted but I am still suffering because my foot in some small way is still on that nail. That is why the tears fell from my eyes for an hour discussing this principle in the group. I have still not radically accepted the biggest change in my life. And I really want to but I don’t know how.

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I have radically accepted –

My diagnoses’ of BPD, BPII and all the fun stuff that comes with it

My 5 autoimmune diseases

My divorce from my ex-husband

My inability to lose weight without a medical intervention

The fact that my miscarriages were NOT my fault

The death of people I have loved so much

I have accepted –

That I have lost the one person I have truly loved

 

I am having trouble radically accepting the three facts above. I having trouble with accepting them because I don’t know if any of what happened between us was real. I can not radically accept any of those emotions because I don’t know if anything he said was true. I don’t know if he meant all those pretty words that came out of his mouth. I know he has said them to her and who knows if he said them before me. He said forever and always and he didn’t mean them or he would still be around. He promised me family and children but that’s out the window too. They say karma’s a bitch and he hurt me so he will be hurt. But I don’t want him hurt, and if I got hurt that badly who the hell did I piss off in order for me to be hurt that badly in the first place? Is anything I am saying make sense or am I snowballing down a treacherous slope? The thing is I am healing, I have moved past it, but a song, a word, a memory creeps in and I doubt the things that happened. I doubt that the year of my life made any impact on anyone except my children and I. Why bother wasting a year of your life if you never meant the words. You moved on from the pain like you felt no pain. You left all the pain for me to feel while you can go and give someone else the promise of forever when you have known them not even a fraction of the time you knew me. And you said I gave you the meaning of love. And what sucks is that I don’t know if anything you said was real. Except goodbye. I know that was real. And you couldn’t even say goodbye, it was just silence. With an apology to someone else. I can’t radically accept something that has no ending, no closure. It was all a fantastical daydream that turned into a nightmare. And it left me with the one thing that I never have. Regret. I regret it and you How am I supposed to radically accept regret.fc0fc5fe5fe5e5cf5b6cbc764815eaa7

I hope I understand it soon. I hope I can radically accept it soon. I hope boxing the rest of it up and getting it out my house helps. The memories, the pictures, the pieces of our handfasting, the pieces of your mother that you left with me…Why? Why keep what was a lie? One big dream. One last nightmare. Faerietale suicide.

 

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I was, I am, I will be

When you met me I was broken. A shattered girl who was scared. Scared to love, to trust, to believe in herself let alone anyone else. Anger, confusion, sadness all bubbling just under the surface of the calm. Tears not to far behind those emerald eyes, just yearning for the trigger to snap so they could flow. Gently you pushed, you built a bridge to let me cross, to make me believe. I did, I believed, I trusted, I belonged. All that pain and fear went away.
Now you’re gone and I’m OK. Everyday I’m OK. I breathe and live and laugh. I dream and hope and wish. I create and devise and heal. I’m OK everyday and everyway…until it comes to love.

Then I am broken. A shattered girl who is scared. Scared to love, to trust, to believe in herself let alone anyone else. Anger, confusion, sadness all bubbling just under the surface of the calm. Tears not to far behind those emerald eyes, just yearning for the trigger to snap so they can flow.

This time…you are the reason. You are the one that broke me. That made me believe and then shattered every promise you gave me. I could have been ok. But you came back and gave me a final word. Of everlasting friendship and family. Then you shattered that. Not just for me. For my family. All of us. You made us believe. Then you stomped on that belief. And you never said you were sorry. You never said goodbye.

I told you once, everyone I have ever loved leaves me behind. You said you never would…Liar

One day, the pain will fade. I will set your memory aflame.Your invasion of my soul will subside. I long for that day. The day I can hear a song without cringing, your  name without twinning, watch a movie without tears in my eyes. One day I’ll be free to love again. Because I know what that word means. Because when you love, it isn’t easy to get over and move on. There is always a piece left behind, as a reminder of who you used to be.

Firework revalations

I cried today. I didn’t mean to, the tears weren’t planned, weren’t really expected at all but they happened…and after it was all said and done I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. 

It was 10pm at the California Grill, on the balcony of the Contemporary resort in Orlando. I was standing there with my best friend just two days away from her wedding. We were watching the fireworks light up the sky over the Magic Kingdom. Jiminey Cricket was talking about wishes and the music flourished as the story unfolding. My cheeks were wet almost immediately.

For the first time in I don’t  know how long I didn’t flinch at the sound of the fireworks, I was just immersed in the beauty. I felt the tears well up and flow. My emotions growing as he talked about wishes and dreams and hopes. I felt the dam inside me bteak. Everything that had been lent up for months came flowing down my cheeks like rivers. Thank heavens for makeup setting spray. 

I clung to my sangria glass like a life boat as I watched the sky light up, I felt her hand on my back. In that m ok mentioned I was of one mind. I knew that it was the release I finally needed.

I am not ashamed that I cried during a magical display in one of the happiest places on earth. In fact, I hope to do it again sometime. It really felt like my soul became thousands of pounds lighter. 

Firework revalations

I cried today. I didn’t mean to, the tears weren’t planned, weren’t really expected at all but they happened…and after it was all said and done I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. 

It was 10pm at the California Grill, on the balcony of the Contemporary resort in Orlando. I was standing there with my best friend just two days away from her wedding. We were watching the fireworks light up the sky over the Magic Kingdom. Jiminey Cricket was talking about wishes and the music flourished as the story unfolding. My cheeks were wet almost immediately.

For the first time in I don’t  know how long I didn’t flinch at the sound of the fireworks, I was just immersed in the beauty. I felt the tears well up and flow. My emotions growing as he talked about wishes and dreams and hopes. I felt the dam inside me bteak. Everything that had been lent up for months came flowing down my cheeks like rivers. Thank heavens for makeup setting spray. 

I clung to my sangria glass like a life boat as I watched the sky light up, I felt her hand on my back. In that m ok mentioned I was of one mind. I knew that it was the release I finally needed.

I am not ashamed that I cried during a magical display in one of the happiest places on earth. In fact, I hope to do it again sometime. It really felt like my soul became thousands of pounds lighter. 

One Call Away

She wanted to dance with you at her wedding to this sing. At 7 years old, she picked this song for you because in her eyes you were a super hero. Now she can’t listen to it on the radio. Her big eyes fill with tears as she begs whoever is playing it to change the song be ause “it hurts to much”. If she is asked why she only shakes her head. The only answer she’s ever given me was that “it reminds her too much much of her Daddy”. Do you know how heartbreaking that is? No, of course you don’t,  you never will. 

You aren’t here to field the questions that come out of the blue. The “Can I make video for him?”, “Did you send him my card?”. The “Is he ever going to want to see us again?”, “I thought he said I could call him anytime, that he would always be my person”. When you make an impression like that on a child, you can’t just slip slowly into the night and expect them to be ok, expect them not to hurt or ask questions. You can’t expect to go from Superman or Zeus to nothing. But I guess it really makes no difference now does it? Your head can be clear because you told them you’d be away for awhile, in your eyes that can be construed as you’re never coming back. In the eyes of a child awhile can be minutes, hours or even seconds. It’s usually not forever. Not when they’ve been hurt before, when you became their hero, when you fought so hard for them, when they became yours and you thiers.  But what do I know? I’m only their mother.

Maybe I shouldn’t write this, I know you don’t read what I write anymore. My words get twisted and told to you in ways they never were meant in the first place. They will be contrived as a guilt trip, pressure or me begging you to come back. I don’t want you to come back, I don’t need you to be mine. I just want to know who you are now, how you believed so hard in protecting your kids suddenly changed into not wanting them at all. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m writing this out of pain because I held my 7 year old tightly today as she begged for answers as to when she’d see you again. And all I could say was simply “I don’t know when you will sweetie, it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to him”.

The man I knew for so many years would have never let me say things like that to her, he would still be in her life. He would still be our 9 year olds person when he needed to talk. But I guess people change more than I could ever imagine.

It’s ok that you can’t be the person in this song, because I got this. You don’t need to be Superman. That’s my job. A promise to them I will never break.

Sleeping Dogs

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People tell you that you should let sleeping dogs lay still. That they are put to bed and should stay there. A lot of those times ut is easy to do. It helps heal your soul, move past your grief and travel forward in your life.
It can be the hardest process to put what you consider unfinished to bed,specially when your ink has run out somewhere in the middle. But you still move forward, taking care of what you must and finding you again. That’s where I was. 58lbs lighter, a smile on my face, laughter, friends, my wonderful sprites. A whole new adventure full of surprises in front of me.
But there was a rascal of a puppy who would stay asleep. One that I cared for so much and gave so much too that once my healing had really progressed, I thought we would fall back into friendship. He wouldn’t rest but he wasn’t ready. When he was, we started to, with such ease that it seemed like the bad had been left behind.
Wouldn’t you know it, my support and love and friendship made the bad catch back up and that puppy may be removed all together. I sit and think and dissect my words. I did nothing erong. I nurtured and supported but it was too much. Me being ok was too much. I had stopped fighting and started supporting and seems all for naught. We shall see what the days ahead bring. Whether my sprites shall be scarred from the scratches of yesterday. I only wish that the gauntlet hadn’t been thrown down. Hadn’t enough people suffered.

Nope…I’m the one who goes to sleep in tears because she cannot listen to her own words.

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