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.

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Thought Provoking

“You don’t need her permission to be her parent.”

Last night T and I watched “Collateral Beauty” on a recommendation from a friend. The above quote was spoken by Will Smith to his friend and company partner out of disappointment. See his friend wasn’t fighting for his daughter who had openly expressed hatred towards her father for causing her parent’s divorce. This movie was filled with inspirational quotes and thought provoking statements..but this one stood out like a flashing neon light. Why? Because not only did I witness my ex-husband push our oldest son away while we were married, but I have watched this unfold and intensify since our divorce. I don’t think I could ever put into words how I feel when he hurts my boys. It’s a pain that becomes nearly unbearable. My words try to provide some insight hoping that one of these times they will stick and offer an “ah-ha” moment. Unfortunately, this does nothing but assure my ex-husband only more firmly plants his heels into the ground as though this action is somehow him proving he is no longer under my “control.” Without me “making” D visit with his dad, he hardly ever does. I backed off several months ago mostly out of exhaustion and lack of support and reinforcement from my ex-husband. And it became more and more apparent once again, that their relationship is not mine to save. But it does hurt. Their time together has dwindled. My ex-husband has repeatedly said “I’m not going to argue with him.” Somehow he misses the fact that him not assuring some time each week with his son is as good as verbally stating “I don’t care.”

If D is being disrespectful or challenging to parent, I am provided no support. He doesn’t parent. At all. And when I made that remark to him “you just drive off and don’t parent,” he simply pursed his lips, shook his head yes, and drove away.

But there’s a pattern right. My ex-husband does’t fight for much. For money he will. He feels entitled to that – money. And he does put effort into his work..but that results in more money right? Anything else though, he wants easy. Parenting is anything but. And I sure would love a co-parent. Because the more tired I become, the more I feel I default at this parenting gig. No he doesn’t need D’s permission to parent him. But he does need the desire to parent him. And somewhere along the line, after the separation and ultimate divorce, that desire, however small to begin with, burned out in a way that I can’t and probably will never understand.

 

Here

drifting in and out

seeing, only briefly

feeling, minutes

there’s hope..look

it passes by

i reach, but too late

or maybe it was just a shadow

the pain festers

it holds tight..and maybe it needs to

the salty ocean in my eyes

creates waves down my face

and my breath, i catch it sometimes

it helps to plant my feet..on the cold ground

and the dreams, the dreams mock me

i wish

for not too much right?

i hold a present, of love

and it sits waiting, waiting for you

to open

my heart patiently beats

while my lungs hold so much air

and my body tightens

that open field?

yes, that one

please meet me there

Just Me

So many people tell me I need to find a boyfriend. That’s their “fix” for me. “You need a guy.” And I do. I want someone in my life. But not as a bandaid for the pain. Not as a distraction. I’m so settled in this place of needing to feel and process. And at times I even question this thought process. Am I thinking too much? Am I being too hard on myself? Am I purposefully denying myself? Do you know how sometimes you try to explain something but it never sounds right? Well I came across this article yesterday and it so resonated, feeling like THIS is what I have been feeling really but have failed to explain in a way that makes sense.

Even T has asked to help create a profile for me on an online dating site. And I see him feeling like he somehow needs to take care of me. He watches his father with his girlfriend and though notices how completely different his father acts when in her presence, he also feels love and a togetherness. I want that. But not just because people are telling me I need that or because I need someone to fix me or my pain. I want someone who wants to be by my side sometimes pulling me forward to bigger adventures. Someone who carries hope on their shoulder. Someone who seeks opportunities. Someone who is not afraid. Someone who is strong and makes me feel just as empowered. Someone who is not afraid to laugh at themselves. Who can speak the truth and whose actions emulate truth. Someone who can make me laugh. Someone who respects all of me – not just sometimes, when it’s convenient, but always.

Until then I am learning to be okay. With me. Just me. I use to live a life where I was distant from myself. Slowly that is changing.

To Be…Not

Sometimes when you are in pain, in that moment, in that timeframe, you think it could not hurt anymore. But I discovered that is so wrong. Like being kicked when you are down. This is what I have felt for the past week. It has been a wave of constant hurt continuously smacking me against the rocky, sharp, unforgiving wall. I am left in-between this blockade and the thrashing, intensity of the waves…waiting for it all to stop.

Feelings of being overwhelmed followed by shock and sadness.

Strength found to be challenged again but with great force.

Some panic, some weakness, some all out craziness.

Again pure shock.

And then deep sadness and hurt and disbelief.

And I sat in this. All of it.

So twisted and surreal almost.

How ironic.

I lose myself from time to time. I get lost in the complexity and many paths. This past week, I lost all harmony.  Any sense of balance and peace was gone.

Maybe all these twists and turns is how I actually will find myself…….

 

Cautiously Happy

My whole life I was told I was unhappy. And to this day my mom defends this by saying “I wanted to know what I could do to make you happy.” She even went so far as to say “You misinterpreted things (I said) as a kid.” Umm no….telling me I was unhappy, telling other people in front of me I was unhappy is pretty straightforward.

So now I look back and think was I unhappy? Or was I just living out what she placed on me, much like a self-fulfilling prophecy? I do know I was unhappy she would say this. I was unhappy hearing it. But was the core of me unhappy? I believe I was heavily unbalanced and seeking. Seeking someone or something to sit on the other side of the see-saw so that our legs would dangle as we sat perfectly balanced. Do you remember sitting on see-saws as a kid? It was no fun if the other person weighed that much more than you because you were left stuck in the air. And if the other person weighed that much less, well your legs would hit the ground so hard and your knees would bend to an uncomfortable angle. But when you found the perfect match, it was, well, perfect. And fun.

As I am trying to move forward to a healthier place in my life, I struggle with being wholeheartedly happy. Understand there are countless moments that bring me happiness. But…I proceed with caution. Divorce hurts. And I was hurt by others during this time. As a result, my heart doesn’t want to feel any more pain. It has become afraid. And timid. It has cracks and holes and bruised parts that are so desperately afraid of someone else taking it and not respecting all of it’s broken pieces. Or not even considering my heart at all.

Yes I am happy, but only cautiously so. Wholeheartedly?…..one day.

Pain

As my oldest son D looked at me crying and yelling “It’s not funny mom when you joke you may have a boyfriend! Dad’s house is NOT my house. Stop telling me to keep some clothes there!” my heart was breaking. It quite literally felt like I was being smashed into tiny little pieces. I had no words in that moment. Just pain. This burst was apparently building inside of D. His pain glaring at me as his tears quickly slid down his beautiful cheeks. He yelled at me to “fix it.” His reference – the divorce, the two homes. As a mom, that’s what you do right? You fix it. But this I can not. So I walked heavily to the hallway that leads to his room and with a cracked voice flooded with emotion and so full of tears, I spoke the truth…”I believe your father and I have provided you with a wonderful life. And continue to give you a wonderful life. This (situation) is not what I wanted. But I have done and am doing everything I can to make this the best situation for T and you. I would like to think you’d feel I am deserving of happiness.” I just did not have the strength to look at him as I spoke. The hallway was dark and I knew he was tucked in his bed listening. His response was a sincere “I know.” Walking back to my own room, I cried myself to sleep.

My mother had given me a mug she had won for her dad at a carnival about 50 years ago. He passed away several years prior to my birth but many have said he is so much a part of me. Someone about two years ago accidentally broke the handle. I was able to superglue it back together….it continues to sit on my bureau holding miscellaneous items. Even though it was cracked, it was put back together with love and thoughtfulness. Just as it had  been presented to my grandfather from my mom so long ago – with love and thoughtfulness. It’s obviously not the same. When you look closely, you can see the crack. But it’s whole. And it’s perfect. And it represents so much.

Sometimes it’s more about how the pieces are put back together.