Posts Tagged ‘fear’

aftermath {just write}

Posted in borderline personality disorder, family, gray area, health, memoir, self-discovery, tagged , , , , on May 21, 2013 | Leave a Comment »

Yesterday, one of the worst tornadoes in history ripped through the Oklahoma City area.  My sister, who nearly died after being hit by a drunk driver just 5 months ago, lives in that area.

Thankfully, her home and her family were not directly effected. But it stirred up all kinds of emotions and fears.

Understandably, for her – and surprisingly, for me.

I’m still not sure why.  Perhaps it’s my own near death experience?  Perhaps it’s because I have not seen my sister since I flew out to OKC just 10 days after her accident.  She was still trapped somewhere in the dark depths of unconsciousness, struggling for moments of lucidity and awareness.  I stayed in the town of Moore, OK.  The very town devastated by yesterday’s natural disaster.

My family and I were planning on driving out to visit my sister and her family over this holiday weekend.  But we’ve decided to cancel that trip now.

And I wonder, am I allowing fear to rule this decision, or just common-sense?

My sister is planning to fly out here and stay most of this summer with my parents while she undergoes hyperbaric oxygen therapy for the brain injury she acquired from the car accident.

So I will be seeing her and her family within a couple weeks…but she’s planning to stay at our parents’ house — so the unsettled relationship that I have with my parents is starting to cause me some anxiety (again!).

I keep typing words, piecing together these sentences, slamming down the delete button — over and over again.  I am trying to figure out why this seemingly random string of events is bothering me so much.  What is truly going on underneath it all?

Life goes on, it always has, it always will.

But right now, I kinda wish I had a pause button.

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I’m joining in Just Write again at The EO.  Attempting…it’s been too long.  Head on over and check out some really amazing writers!

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growing {old & up}

Posted in beginnings, borderline personality disorder, family, self-discovery, tainted childhood, tagged , , , , , , , , , on March 1, 2013 | Leave a Comment »

I have a fear of becoming my mother.

Probably a little more so than your average woman does.

Of course, the whole genetics thing is difficult to overcome.   The older I get the more and more I look like her (even though everyone always said I looked just like my dad when I was a kid – go figure!).  I hate catching glimpses of her while looking in the mirror.

I am realizing though, that I have very little control over physical traits – like how my face is shaped!

And that those traits don’t really matter much to my kids.

They just see their own mom when they look at me.

But my actions, my emotions, my parenting, and pretty much everything else – I do have control over.

And through those parts of myself, I try to give my kids the childhood that I wish I could have had.

The first and foremost being an emotionally stable mother.

 

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time to heal

Posted in beginnings, family, gray area, self-discovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 25, 2013 | Leave a Comment »

Source: Pinterest

 

Healing.

That’s my keyword for 2013.

It’s taken me over an month to come to it.  I’ve never been big on New Year’s Resolutions. January and February are for hibernating, not hitting the gym!  I like to let the energy of the new year settle in for a while, before I decide where it is going to lead me on my journey.

In reflection 2012 was a little edgy.  Last January and February (in full disaccord to my own beliefs about hibernation) I bleached out my long brown tresses – like platinum blonde! – and then decided on a whim to cut those crunchy fried locks.  I weilded the scissors myself one afternoon during nap time!  I didn’t go all Britney Spears (remember the shaved head incident?)  But I did lop off about 6 inches and ended up with it at chin length after my shocked stylist fixed it all up for me again.   I was frantically trying to change myself and leave my past behind.  But I was only looking on the outside – which really is the easiest part to change.

Springtime brought with it an epiphany of sorts and I started going to counseling.  That’s when everything started making a lot more sense.  By Fall, I had finally decided to confront my problems rather than continue to avoid them.  And well, that was partially freeing, but mostly painful.  At least I spoke my truth.  Even if it was only met with more accusations of how wrong and horrible I am.

With winter just weeks old, the universe decided to throw me into the fire of grief, love, pain and hope.  I took lots of naps, but did very little writing.  I found solace in cooking and sewing instead.  The decided snaps while chopping vegetables.  The simple rhythm of the sewing machine.  It was very meditative for me, shutting down the crazy, babbling monkey in my brain.

I had lengthy and emotional conversations (and rants) with Owen.  I voiced my worries and fears for my sister.  I voiced my frustrations and disappointment and anger toward my parents and their actions (or inactions in most cases).

It all kept me from imploding into myself.  I wasn’t about to slip into that deep and dark hole.  I just needed to get through it all and find some time to breathe and just be.

I never got around to the healing last year.

The truth seemed to do a good job of crumbling the past (and some of the present).

Now it’s time to clean up the mess and make way for a new beginning…

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I’ve rediscovered SARK’s writing and am hoping to give this healing process a little extra help with her books Transformation Soup and Glad No Matter What. Have you read these titles? Do you have any must-reads on healing?

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second chances {my fiction}

Posted in creative hobbies, fiction, why I blog, tagged , , , , , , , , on January 31, 2013 | Leave a Comment »

She stood up a little straighter.  Shoulders back, chin up.  Her right hand instinctively reached up to smooth her flowing chocolate strands flying in the autumn breeze.

Does he remember me?  It’s been so many years.  We were practically children…

Her thoughts wandered through fuzzy memories of adolescent yearnings and confusion.

She looked around.  Children running, tossing balls, in the grassy bowl of the elementary school yard.

Her own children were down there somewhere.  His were too.

When did this happen?  When did we become the grown-ups?  The old people?  When did we become our parents?

Theryn still felt like that fourteen year old girl who was trying so hard to leave her childhood behind.  She had been running away for over twenty years.

As she stood on the sidelines of the children’s games, she pulled out her phone and acted like she was engrossed in reading and tapping out messages.  She couldn’t bring herself to look up again.

Josh watched her from the shaded lenses of his sunglasses, masking his line of sight.  He was certain it was her.  There was no mistaking Theryn, even spending most of their lives apart, that small flutter in his stomach told him without question it was her.

As his stood there amidst the memories of a life past, the fluttering turned into knots, and his conscience reminded him of the stupid, selfish actions of 15 year old boy.

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I’ve been silent here (and really, everywhere) for awhile.  It wasn’t something I did intentionally.  In all honesty, I haven’t put pen to paper for weeks at time over the past several months.  I dove into my life as a wife and mother, hoping to busy myself enough for those worries, fears, and nagging memories of the past to fall away and let me be.  Life doesn’t work that way though, and the more I have squashed away those feelings and memories, the more Life has thrown my way to stir it all up again.  

“Face your Fears head on”, Life has told me in these past months.  So here I am again, hoping to find peace in sharing my words, my life, my art – in other words – My Heart –  on these pages and posts in this little gray garden I’m growing.  

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my groundhog day

Posted in memoir, photography, self-discovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 29, 2012 | 2 Comments »

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{taken early morning, August 26, 2010, from my living room window}

It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in this living room, thinking how my life was feeling more and more like that movie Groundhog Day.  I was waiting for E .(nearly 2 weeks overdue) to arrive and part of me was completely terrified for his arrival because deep-down I knew that somehow, someway, giving birth to him was going to be a monumental pivot point in my life – my family’s life.  And not in the typical-new-baby-fashion.

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{my big E. belly! also on August 26, 2010}

Sometimes things just feel indescribably more important than what you think they should feel like.

I felt that it was the one event in my life that would suddenly click into place and “poof”, my Groundhog Day would end and a new course would begin.

(Boy, did it ever!  A near-death experience, traumatic post-partum issues, discovering the whole BPD thing)

I’m so very grateful for my wonderfully simple yet utterly profound life.  My husband.  My kids.  My house.  My dog.  Even my car.  My entire life – in general – in its entirety – from the miniscule to the extraordinary.

I feel like a warrior now – a weary one at times – but still a warrior.

I have returned home from my battles to heal, inside and out.  There will be scars.

There are scars, inside and out.

I will continue to heal, knowing with confidence that I am stronger than I could ever have imagined.

My sword, my shield, hanging proudly above my heart’s mantle.  A reminder to myself and a warning to any threatening forces.

–> I am a warrior <–

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let freedom ring

Posted in family, memoir, self-discovery, why I blog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2012 | Leave a Comment »

I’ve been reading through some of my old, personal journal entries lately.  Partly for my therapy sessions and partly because I like to be reminded where I’ve been from time to time.  This one struck me as pretty important, and I think sharing it with the world (you!) is pretty important too.  Just so you know, this is pretty much verbatim from my journal…I’ve only edited out the mis-spellings and some grammar to help it flow better.

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Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The future is now.  And here I am…8 months later and I’m still avoiding a decision.  Stay or Go?  I’m still in the holding pattern.  Probably the biggest, most in-your-face-reason why I avoid this journal.  Fear.

Fear of making a decision.  Fear of making the wrong decision.  Fear of making the right decision.  I never thought I feared change, but this change is so big and life-altering…the best kind of change out there, really.

Transformation lies ahead of me.  I worry.

I worry if “they” will accept my transformation.  I worry if I will be able to stay a good mother and a good wife.

It (this change) will set me free.  At least that’s what I’ve heard.  You know, from those countless intuitive/soul-searching books?  I am FREE.  Who says I can’t continue to live in abundance?

Source: mr-little.com on Pinterest

Sometimes letting go of things no longer needed is the best way to “have more”.  Be more.

I cleaned out half my clothes in my closet over the course of the past year.  Letting go is so invigorating.  But it is so hard to let go of my paycheck.  I feel silly and stupid and greedy all for the same reason.  I want to be with my babies.  I don’t want my parents to have such a major role in my daily/weekly life.  I don’t want to be stuck in the same dysfunctional parent-child relationship as an adult.  I want to feel like I am important.  I am a mother.  And a damn good one to boot.  My parents don’t really see me for who I am.

I want freedom.  But I fear that freedom I crave will imprison me in other ways.  Financial, and as a result, emotionally with Owen.  He says he supports me.  And I think that he really does.  I think that my fear is skewing my judgement, as fear so readily and easily does.  I want to jump down the rabbit hole.  I want to do so with wild abandonment –> I won’t look back.

Owen wants me to ask about a “leave of absence”.  And – really – it does make logical sense.  But emotionally, it is just a connection to the past.  Will it be a strong enough connection with the past to affect my life?  Hmmm….?  Hard to say, really.  I have learned through writing and reading and many serendipitous encounters that I have the sole key to my own happiness.  And I’m finally “getting it”.  Slowly (and sometimes in big waves and rushes of inspiration) I now SEE ME.  I honestly think I NEED to cut the ties of my job, my career.

All of this stuff that surrounds me…it’s just stuff.  My fear is just the “sad-bad-mad” little pill living inside my head.  It’s followed me from my past.  Sure, nothing’s perfect, but it seems like I have been choosing, searching for ways to wallow in pain and wallow in misery.  Seraching for reasons to feel more pitiful.  What a crock of crap!

I am truly blessed.  And I don’t need to find any missing pieces of my soul/my self in this life.  I AM WHOLE.  I was born WHOLE.  Just like D. and B. are whole, pure little souls.  I have that power within me.  I Am Free To Be Me.  I know that I am with who I need to be with on my journey.  Owen, D. and B.  We will travel this journey together.

Anyhow – I just want to purge – everything around me.  I know it doesn’t sound rational, but it’s just spilling out of me.  I want to be in nature.  The pressures of “having” can be overwhelming.  It takes up precious time and precious energy and precious, precious moments of bliss and love.

I don’t want to be so connected to the chaos of the internet and the TV. It’s addictive – and I feel the yearnings and cravings for my “fix” even while I am outside playing with my babies.  I don’t like it.  It makes me feel black and moldy on the inside.  It’s not real.

I want to feel real, present.  I want to feel invigorated.

I am ready to take the leap.  Right now.

I want to purge & release & change everything.

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It still took me another 6 months to finally cut the cord to my career.  My parents were watching my two kids during the two days each week that I was working, which I knew wasn’t healthy for any of us…but I just couldn’t put my finger on exactly why.  This  was written nearly 4 years ago, and it is amazing to me how much has changed since then.  Perhaps this entry was the catalyst for me to finally listen to my intuition and do what was right for me and my family?  

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you’re so vain…

Posted in memoir, self-discovery, why I blog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 20, 2012 | 6 Comments »

…you probably think this blog is about you.

Well, you’re wrong! It’s about me! (I’m the vain one here!)

Vanity & Aging.

It happens to the best of us. No matter how hard we try to defy time (and gravity!) our bodies insist of sagging and wrinkling and discoloring (age spots, gray hairs).

And I think it’s one of those things – like having kids – that you don’t fully understand until it happens to you. Until more recent years, I never really understood why women would spend hundreds of dollars on those anti-aging elixirs…or even cosmetic surgery!

I always thought I would “age gracefully” – which meant that I would look years younger than I actually was! But, today, at 36 years old, when I look in the mirror, or I see photos of myself, I think, “Who is that woman?!”

I don’t feel old…but I sure do look old!

I know that part of my problem stems from my tumultuous relationship with my own mother. Instead of seeing myself, I see my mom. Damn you, genetics! Don’t get me wrong, she is an attractive woman, but she’s the last person I want looking back at me in my mirror!

This aging thing feels like it just snuck up on me.  I was busy for the past 7 years being a wife and mother (I even juggled career for the first four years!) and unfortunately, I lost myself along the way.  Not entirely, mind you.  But I certainly lost the part that swore she would never “let herself go“.

I have let myself go.  I wear elastic waistbands (oh how I heart thee yoga pants!) 95% of the time…because they’re so comfy and I still have about 15 lbs of baby fat to lose (my baby is almost two now, so that baby fat excuse is getting pretty thin!).  I seldom wear makeup…and my freckles are starting to morph into age spots, not to mention the wrinkles around my eyes and forehead.   Can you say, “Laser surgery is my friend”?

I am fully aware of the “You’re only as old as you feel” adage.  And mentally, I am feeling better than I have in so, so long.  I am very grateful for that.  I do realize that maybe my outward appearance has slipped because I’ve been doing lots of restructuring and sorting out on the inside.  I also realize that I am certainly not alone in my wishful vanities and anti-aging battles.

I’m still me.  That mom-like person looking back at me in the mirror…that’s still me too.  I am a mom (but that does not mean that I am my mom).  Who I am on the outside is not nearly as important as who I am on the inside…but I have a sneaking suspicion now that my insides are humming along my outsides want some much needed (and missed!) attention!

 

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It seems a little shallow and silly to be talking so much about my outsides…but the outside and the inside both play a part in what makes me a whole person!  Society is so hypocritical – expecting supermodel beauty, but telling you how shameful vanity is!  Do you feel like your insides and outsides match/work together?  

Just Write is already in it’s 40th weekly installment…go read some more!

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closer to fine

Posted in gray area, self-discovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 11, 2012 | 2 Comments »

daisies

 

Connections.

It’s a topic that everyone seems to be interested in, ingrained in the human condition.

Is it possible to ever really, truly connect with someone on an emotional level?

I think we all try to, to some degree or another.

Except – first don’t we need to understand our own emotions before we can begin to explain them, or share them with others?

This is where I am right now.

The realization that I don’t really know what emotion(s) I have.

I’m certainly not emotionless. But I don’t know how to explain them, or how to really share them for that matter! This is likely where I’ve been for most of my life. Between being an introvert by nature, and learning to walk on eggshells to try to keep the peace at home (the nurture part), I have a tendency to stuff everything down into those lint-filled pockets of my inner self.

I realize that I am not unique in this way. Most of us, as children, were taught to suppress our emotions, especially those outwardly messy ones like fear and even pain.

When someone asks, “How are you?” Do you respond truthfully?

Are you really, “Fine, thanks.” ?

Does anyone really want to know how truly miserable (or even truly elated) you are really feeling?

Most of us, myself included, find security in the “Fine.” It’s the gray area of ordinariness that we find ourselves in on a daily basis.

Being “fine” is the benchmark of our existence.

I even catch myself telling my own children, “You’re fine.”, when they are clearly not fine.

I wish I had some tidy way to tie up these thoughts…

We all walk the line of “fine” every single day. We wrap ourselves up in that cozy blanket of “fine” and we go about our lives wondering how to truly feel connected to any of it.

Is it the “just fine” that keeps us separate?

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How important are emotional connections to you? Do you feel like you are successful in making them? Or do you tend to tell everyone you are “just fine”, even when you are not? Are we wrong in telling are children that they are “just fine” too? Do the social networks help us to connect…or are we just finding our digital “just fine”?

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restless

Posted in dreams, family, gray area, memoir, self-discovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 7, 2012 | 2 Comments »

The shades are drawn, and the skinny lamp shines on me in my favorite chair. Outside, the thunderstorms are raging, pounding rain (maybe it’s hail?) and flashes that light up the dark house. Everyone is tucked in, including Owen, whom I heard faintly snoring as I dried off and lotioned up after spending 15 minutes of solace, washing away the day.

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The book sits beside me. I’ve been highlighting as I read along (something I haven’t done since college). I am finding so much truth in those pages, but my progress is slow. The truth can sometimes be like eating your brussel sprouts: you know it’s healthy for you, but you still find yourself cringing and gagging down each “rotten-tangy-sweet” bite.

The truth has been bubbling up in my dreams, filling them with chaos and mass destruction…a reflection of some of my distant childhood memories. My mother, the epicenter of my chaos and the destruction of my self-esteem.

These words and pages I’m reading are filled with explanations. I get tingly-queasy with each realization, snapping off the highlighter cap and fervently marking the page. “This is why I am the way I am,” I think to myself.

But the high of validation is waning now, and I’m longing for words of healing.

Every night, the same prayer, “I just want to move on, please help me heal and move on.”

Inside, I sometimes scream, “Heal already damn it!”, as I imagine myself wiping my hands clean, then burning the towel with the disgusting stains of shame, guilt and a childhood lost.

My logical mind reminds me, with clarity and constance, that a lifetime of emotional pain can not be healed in a mere three weeks.

I will heal.

With love and with patience -

for myself
from myself

I will become whole.

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{just write}

The book I’m reading is called Stop Walking on Eggshells, by Mason & Kreger. I highly recommend it if someone you love and care about has borderline personality disorder (BPD) … even if they have not been diagnosed or refuse treatment, this book will help you to begin sorting through the chaos.

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The Watchling

Posted in fiction, gray area, why I blog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 6, 2012 | 10 Comments »

I watch her.

I ache.

She shudders.

“I’m still here,” I whisper, faintly.

She closes her eyes.

“I’m still here,” my whisper fills her ears, and she shakes her head, trying to ignore, escape.

I watch her:

At the park

In her car

Running errands

Visiting with friends.

I ache.

She shudders.

“I’m still here,” I whisper again.

I close my eyes.

I am alone, floating weightless, aimless, boundless.

My ears flush with warmth.  I ache to feel her essence.

I open my eyes.  Slowly, I focus.  There are cars, a street, trees reaching from the concrete sidewalks, stretching to grab a ray of sunshine through the towering shadows of the cityscape.

My eyes are adjusting; I can’t seem to find definition in my surroundings.  Everything is gray.  The colors faded, muted, gone.

A young girl is standing on the corner, just feet away from me.  She is watching me.  But no one else seems to notice.   I am just as faded and muted as the rest of the city.

The girl’s mother is holding her daughter’s hand and a cell phone in the other, chatting away about a pair of shoes she saw in a store window display earlier that day.

I shudder.

My gaze goes back to the little girl, curiously watching my every move.  I manage to smile, albeit weakly , but a kind gesture none the less.  Her dimpled grin assures me that she is, in fact, watching me.

Her attention fills me again.  I feel the girl’s warmth envelop me.  I yearn for more.  I start towards her.  Every cell is tingling now.  The girl continues to smile, and has pulled her hand from her mother’s grip.  Her mother is too caught up in mindless chatter to notice.  I kneel down on the sidewalk in front of her.  My knees ache against the cool, rough concrete.  I focus on the warmth from this little girl, this new little soul in front of me.

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Another little bit of fiction that I’ve being writing on & off for a year now.  It came to mind when I read the Trifecta challenge for Week 30 – New.  Thanks for stopping by to read – be sure to go check out all the other writer’s entering this week!

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