Could it be?

The other day while driving I had one of those ah-ha moments. It was about being happy. Some time ago I wrote about my mom always telling me I was unhappy when I was younger. To this day, she continues to reference me as an unhappy child and how she tried so hard to “help.” My initial emotional reaction to this is anger. Even thinking about it boils my blood. But I suddenly realized it was HER feeling that she was placing on me. Growing up I couldn’t’ see this. I only knew how jumbled I felt inside. Anxiety, stress, anger, frustration, a feeling of being trapped and wanting to escape. I remember these feelings quite well. In fact I remember very clearly my first panic attack at 10 years old. And I remember clearly how for the next nearly 30 years after, I was intertwined with my mother’s emotions. If she answered the phone upset when I called, that only played out for me personally the rest of the day. Her thoughts quite honestly became mine. Although I never saw this.

I.Never.Saw.This.

Until quite literally almost 6 years ago I woke up. That’s what it felt like – waking up. And suddenly I saw so much and thought HOLY SHIT! It was this time I separated from my now ex-husband while also distancing myself from my mother. And it was this time that my panic and anxiety all but disappeared. How ironic.

To only validate my recent ah-ha moment, my mom sent me a text a few days ago. It read:
“I really cannot wait for Prince Charming to walk into your life even tho it’s not of that much importance to you. If that day happens I’ll be beyond happy.”

So even though she acknowledges it’s not as important to me, it’s what she wants. It’s what will make HER happy. At 43 years old, she still tells me I need to wear my hair a certain way, to put more makeup on. She even told me recently she’ll pay for a make-over. These are things SHE wants me to do. And yet, I feel fine the way I am. I have worked so hard on my emotional, psychological, and physical state. And I am proud of this work. I think I do a pretty damn good job.

The smile I wear walking through the halls at work (that yes, realistically aren’t every day because nothing is perfect), the peace I feel while running, the positive energy I share at yoga, the laughs I have with friends, the excitement I feel when watching T play hockey, the proud feeling when D receives another college acceptance…all of this and then some is my happy.

MY happy.

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Do You Regret..the Divorce?

I have asked my close friend this very question on more than one occasion. Do you regret the divorce? Her answer – yes. She would have stayed married if she had known how things would have turned out when she got a divorce. Her ex-husband was extremely hurt by the divorce. The hurt morphed into anger and the anger has been fueled by his current girlfriend. Who is suffering? The three innocent children caught in between. So had she had known, she would have stayed to avoid the hurt caused to her children on a consistent basis. But no one can predict the future. Even a well thought out divorce can stray from the initial intentions. Nothing is ever easy.

Asking her this question, made me think about myself. Do I regret the divorce? I don’t. I am sad. And there are still moments of grief for what was lost. Sometimes the sadness can even present as regret. But as the days unfolded during our separation and ultimate divorce, the reasons why it was for the best slowly rose to the surface. Initially, I felt guilty, feeling unfulfilled in a way which made me feel awful. What I didn’t understand then was why. Why did I feel this way? I was very much on the surface then, not digging or discovering how I got to that point. Yet, there was so much.

So no, I don’t regret the divorce.

Some days

Some days I just want to cry

and some days, I just do

Some days I roll all the windows down in the car and sing loudly to the music playing on the radio

and some days, I hide behind my sunglasses and retreat into my head

Some days I run with strength and energy and confidence

and some days, I feel like my legs are made of stone

Some days I feel so clear, so ready for the future

and some days, I am so scared and confused

Some days I look out the window and smile

and some days, I wipe the tears feeling overwhelmed

Some days I feel so accomplished at work

and some days, I feel like my brain is useless

Some days I hold my breath waiting for something good

and some days, I hold my breath fearing something bad

Some days I can’t help but feel happy

and some days, I am filled with anger

Some days I long for what was

and some days, I long for what will be

Some days, I am reminded of all that is positive

and some days, I am faced with only negative

It will all balance, it will all be right, it will all be okay

Someday

Steps

Are you overcome with joy? With anger? With guilt? Resentment? Happiness? Anxiety? Panic? Contentment? Gratitude? What is it that holds you so tightly? Is it strangling your very being or is it giving you much needed breath? Does it enable you to grow or does it stifle your dreams? Does it look you in the face and lie or does it hold truth in all its spoken and unspoken words?

On the contrary, maybe you have overcome hurt, pain, illness. Maybe you have overcome a life full of shadows, emptiness, and dead-ends. Maybe you have overcome being weak. Maybe you have softened the hard edges of your untrusting self. But maybe you are still waiting to overcome that day when your knees buckled beneath you.

All of the emotions are a kaleidoscope creating colors so bright that some offend your very eyes while others offer a soothing break. With each emotion know you are taking steps.¬†Steps. Some may be forward and some backward. But it’s movement. And such is better than standing still.

Changing

 

I read an article a few days ago offering advice to respond to situations in a new light. Change old habits of impulse reactions, particularly ones that involve anger, negativity, resentment. Note the usual reaction, stop, and try a new way. Changing thought patterns. Clearing a new path. I like it. I like the suggestion. It feels, I don’t know, hopeful? I actually ¬†practiced it the other night. As I lay thinking about a friend who has hurt me on so many levels, I found my anger rising, my body tightening, and then….I stopped. I acknowledged this almost habitual response and decided to consciously process my response differently. In a more constructive or at least less negative-feeling way. What I have noticed is when I start to feel this anger and hurt, it snowballs. My body and mind pay the price. So in this moment I took a deep breath, placed one hand on my stomach, my center, and one hand on my heart and I let it go. Did it make it hurt any less? Not so much. But what it provided was a place where that hurt could no longer control and weaken me. It was a safe haven of sorts. And I did’t have to physically go anywhere.

It is all here – within me.

Honest

Can I be honest? I am scared. How will I support myself? How will I have enough money? I feel as though on so many levels, I have regressed in my life. My dream is gone. As I watch shows, movies, and friends live their lives, I harshly realize that my dream will never be. It no longer exists and now will never have the chance. As this mulls in the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel sadness and anger and fear.

Lately as I fall asleep my dreams are filled with people taking advantage of me or attempting to kill me. Suffice to say, I feel very vulnerable. And suddenly I am reminded of a song I sang to D while pregnant and quite frequently during his childhood.

“May the long time sun
Shine upon you,
All love surround you,
And the pure light within you
Guide your way on.”

kundalini yoga – farewell blessing

 

……just trying to find my way.

 

Crazy

Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy. Maybe I made it all up? Maybe it wasn’t so bad? Maybe it’s me being the critical, complaining person I have been called getting all caught up in an exaggerated world. The hypocritical statements directed at me lead to confusion.

I suppose this is one reason I need to write. So I don’t forget. Because time has a way of blurring lines. But I start to feel so dark. As though my words reveal a black hole. Portraying me as a bottomless pit of negativity. I begin to get caught in a mix of anger, sadness, guilt, and then self-doubt.

Walking a fine line. There are so many things I miss. And things I would like. But how do I trust?