I wrote my heart out of Friday night. Ink splattered across my fingertips as words flew across the page in angry slahes. Some bitter, some resentful, some sad. In the end, I was empty. I felt like I had finally gotten everything that had been filling me up for so long, out of my soul. Every nlock, every jam, every bit of feeling toward what had happened came out. It only took 11,00 words. I couldn’t tell you what they said. I know im my heart that my voice is raw. Part of me is numb and the other part empty.
And now I am at the precipice of a new beginning. A jumping off point, that I thought I had found before. I realize that I had never fully embraced all that had happened and what was to be. And that it had left mt stuck somewhere that I couldn’t move from. Frozen in time, niether for the good nor the bad. Replaying what had been and to scared of what will be. That is over now.
I am ready to emrace what is. The right now. Today I face the world free from the ties that bind. Knowing in myself that I could not change the past. That I have learned from it. And in that I have griwn. I embrace who I’ve become, where I am going. I am thankful for what I have and where I’ve been. I know my journey isn’t over and it will never lead me back to what has already been. I am a person of worth, of substance, of vitality. I am full of love for those who surround my life with goodness. I will do all that I can to show the world all that I have to give. In mind, body and spirit. I am enough.
My mind races. It’s almost like I want to break out from behind these walls I’m in and yell “I’m here, I’m still here! Everything’s going to be ok!” But is It? Truly? I reach for the light, the fabled light at the end of this darkened tunnel. But I question if the tunnel was really ever that dark to begin with.
So much stuff has happened as of late. There has been so many things set in motion that I feel like I can’t keep up. And as much as I try to for appearances sake, it is when I’m alone that I want to curl up and cry. But I don’t. Is it fear? Is it the fact that I’m not really sad? The fact that I have more under control than I realize? Or the fact that I am actually doing everything in my power to make it work.
But I don’t feel like I am. I feel like I can do so much more. Be do much more. I think to the past. To what things could have been different and then I know that I can’t let that keep holding me back from what’s going on right now. But something still feels off. Unrealistic expectations for a future is always dreamed of.
A marriage, more kids, a house with a back yard. Things I can’t only wish once upon a December. But reality, reality crashes down on me and I have to radically accept what I have tight now. Wonderful smart amazing kids, food, a house and a chance to a have a future. That has to be enough.
Then, why the panic. Why the racing thoughts. Why the not sleeping. Could there be something I’m forgetting or leaving out.
My chance to dream isn’t over yet. But I’ve forgotten to pick up my pen and write those dreams down. For too long my words have gone unspoken and I yearn for an output, a way to grab onto something bigger, something more.
This too will pass, I will survive, I will thrive. I will let must feel as much as I can and not judge it because it’s ok to just feel. I will not continue onto that extra dose of caffeine that has become to much. And I will keep believing in something more. Because I will never give up on my own varietals. Our truest hearts desire is only but a wish away. I believe that, always.
Can you see me? Really see what’s behind my eyes? The words that tumble from my mind but that my lips can’t form.What do you see what you look at me?
In a vast and changing world there are days when the tides just pull you along. Your arms flail desperate to keep your head above water and not is all smooth sailing. On those days, as your gasping for air, you wonder if you will ever see the light again. If by some miracle you will ever come out on top.
They suddenly a ping. A low noise goes off like a beacon in dark and you are saved. The sun comes crashing through the darkest night and hits your face. The pale becomes rosy, the shadowed becomes sparkling, the number becomes warm. All is be washed in smiles because of a single kindness. A single thought.
Uneglected connection that you have been waiting on. Wacting for. Waiting by. DIsn’t even know you were searching. ALloyd these questions arise. Will it? Won’t it? Dare I? But you shove them away for the kindness of a smile. Your batter away the negativity especially surrounding where you are, whowever you are….ust for that feelinh. that feeling when you got. Whence you snuck iinto the routine. Whence you realized, that for the first time. In a long time. Your were the reason, for someone’s smile
The leaves are in the middle of their change. Stuck between green and red. Some orange and amber. Other the brightest yellow the eyes can see. The wind is starting to crisp and the air…the air is tumbling across our senses with the smells of love. The smells of spices and Woodstock. Of warmth and cider. Of nights yearning to be copied up in our hoodies just aching to be scared around fires full of laughter. It’s the time of the year that I look forward to. The time of the year I feel free. The time of the year my smiles are big and my arms open wide to accept the hugs of the giggles of Littles after a full day of pumpkin picking and candied apples…
But I’m stick. Up swept by emotion I can quite grasp, and as much as I want to smile I want to scream. As much as I want out I want this season to pass. As many things as I want to do the memories all tie to those two perfect years that I made them with you. And I can erase and erase and smile through and still they settle into the minds of the children. And there’s nothing I can do. You’ve resurfaced. There’s been questions of which I have no answers. Only to talk about you in the past. As if you’ve died and been buried like those we’ve had to say goodbye to. And that’s sad, that you’ve become a corpse. Just another memory. When you could have stayed so much more to them. To all of us. And you chose instead to commit and act so heinous it only equates to death.
So we bury you, a few times a week. For you are not that far under the ground. We lay flowers at your site and move on ahain. Rebuilding out lives on top of what you left of us. I am determined to do these things without you. Though it tears at my heartstrings so. The colors are not as vibrant and the wind not so sweet. But I will still love this time I have. This is my season. These are my days. I will fight forward and one day I will be free…from the middle of a memory
I can’t promise you the answers
If you ask me what is wrong
I can’t promise I can do it
If you tell me to be strong
The days are going slowly
Dragging by silently
I sit and watch the clock
My mind begging to be free
I wish I knew what was happening
Why I just can’t be free
Of the hidden pain and judgement
Of the wrongs that were done to me
Everytime I think I’ve done it
That I’ve finally moved on
I get this sharp painful reminder
That it hasn’t been so long
But I’ll just keep pushing forward
Because I refuse to be held down
I’ll keep fighting this feeling
I’m going to stand my ground
I deserve to just be happy
to let my wings fly free
I am going to live my life now
And somehow finally find me
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.
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
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.
I want to say I’ve become terrible at blogging but I haven’t. I want to say I’ve stop caring about blogging but I haven’t. I want to say I’ve sat and stared at the cursor blinking for hours but I havent…in all honesty I’ve thought about blogging, life has happened, I put it off and moved on. Things have been crazy in these parts. I’m 9 days away from syrgery, 2 days in to my doctor ordered strict liquids only diet. I am suffering through incredible headaches, awful nausea and I either want to cry or scream it really just depends on the moment.
The emotions running through my head are really interesting. On one hand I’m scared of what’s going to happen in 9 days, scared because I don’t know if people are still going to love me for my insides or if they are going to just like my outsides. If I’m going to like my outsides. I know I will, I’m just nervous…the unknown is a scary this. Traveling headfirst into my new story, no one to hold my hand, no one to kiss my forehead and tell me they will love me no matter what. I have to learn how to validate myself and that my friends is hard to do.
I’ve realized that as the days pass by I am slowly letting my love dissapear, like Marty Mcfly of the past. I don’t even remember his voice anymore. It has been determined that I am a good person. I am a person that can not knowingly go out to hurt people. I can not wrap my head around how people can knowingly invalidate others and hurt them to the extent that I’d been hurt. That is what I am dealing with now. Coming to my own sense of closure and I am getting there. Just by living.
So between coping, closure, odd moments of preop fear and watching so many artsy movies I think I’ve been ok. I’ve realized that I’m allowed to be ok. Not only am I allowed to be ok, but I’m allowed to be ok and have bad days. I’m allowed to be ok and fall off the wagon. I’m allowed to be ok and still want to be loved, to miss feeling someone by my side. In fact, I’m allowed to just be. And that’s ok.
I’m going to try and choke down another slimy shake, you know, for health purposes!
I didn’t go to therapy today. I know I need to but I really just didn’t want to. I surmise that this is for many reasons. Such as…My new antibiotics are making feel I’ll, I’m wicked tired, I know we’re starting to discuss emotional regulation today and my father in law passed away yesterday. All of these are very good reasons (well except one) for not going to group today but what lies under all of them is the fact that I really just didn’t want to go. Now, first of all, I believe it is helping me, more often than not I practice my debt skills to get me through the day. I try to be mindful and shuffle through all the skillfully playing cards they give me in order to cope with the outside world. I do not however like the fact that I have to keep track of what I am doing or follow each class up with himework. It makes me feel like a child and not an adult who is profiting from a group scenario. I think that is one of the reasons I get so snarky about it sometimes. Anyway, I do feel like crap from a third round of antibiotics I’ve been put on and will be going back to sleep for at least a little while.
As I sit here in my dim room with my pumpkin spice frappe (it’s amazing be jealous) I am drawn to the fact that I want so desperately to clean it, yet I can’t find the energy to do it. Granted I haven’t been high on spoons and I use most of them on my kids but there’s more to it than that. You see my room isn’t a mess per say, there are just parts of it that have clutter or need sorted out. There’s a brand new bookshelf that needs to be filled with all the wonderous books that I have. Some whose covers have never yet been opened. I think a lot of this is like my mind, a huge space so full of stuff that only the carefulness can navigate and find there way thtough. Easy to see what’s there but to delve into the hidden spots takes a keen eye and an intelligent mind. Things are hidden away. Locked treasures that you need to find the key for. One of them being my heart. But that box has multiple keys.
Speaking of which, so I was on Whisper the other day, where I received a very nice compliment. I wasn’t sure what part on my post deserved such a compliment but I appreciated it non the less. This is what I wrote.
And in very unhappy news, I am still numb after the phone call I got from the ex husband that his step dad had passed. Now I don’t generally think most people stay close to their ex’s family after a divorce but his mom, step-dad and siblings remained family to me. We exchange cards, pics, calls and whatnot. Living on two different coasts has made it hard on visits and I now feel guilty that he never got to meet my pixie. I am just taken totally aback by the situation. So I will be strong and I will push through. Gotta plan a trip sometime.
My thoughts are churning out endless streams of who knows what at the moment, so I shall attempt to shut them down and nap. My tip of the day. Self love. Do it!