“Morning Has Broken”: When Suffering Becomes a Blessing

Morning Has Broken
~Cat Stevens
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight
Mine is the morningBorn of the one light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise ev’ry morning
God’s recreation of the new day
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world.

beach woman sunrise silhouette
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WOW! Have you ever had one of those moments of clarity where you feel so centered and deeply rooted that it genuinely surprises you? Suddenly you’ve arrived at the summit, a little winded and a bit fatigued, but completely joyful as you fall into the present moment, free and fully satiated. Determined to savor this slice of bliss in its entirety, you scan the horizon, using all senses, desiring to retain as much of the landscape as humanly possible. These are the moments that define us, the ones we work and wait for, and the ones we reminisce about, often sharing the stories multiple times throughout our lives.
My milestone came to me late this evening in an ordinary way. I wasn’t climbing a mountain, giving birth, or competing in a race. I was actually drying off from a hot lavender soak in my small tub. LOL. It was at the end of another uneventful evening. Both my friend and I have been hacking away with colds that we got right before Thanksgiving. As I often do, I had spent time earlier loving on my pup, Gracie, and throwing her green, squeaky toy down the hall for her to chase. It didn’t seem like anything was brewing. It was a very uneventful, gray day with rain on and off and a high wind warning in effect. I only went out once all day to take my pup to the dog park as it was dismal outside. The Fall and Winter months in the Northwest can be trying for those who suffer with depression, it gets dark early and rains often.
So, yes! Back to my milestone! It was late and I had taken a bath and was drying off. And that’s when it hit me, like a ton of bricks. The type of bricks that you can use with mortar to build an intricate, yet solid, foundation. Yes! My building blocks that I have been unknowingly waiting on forever, have finally arrived. No one ever shared with me that things might just snap into focus one day to reassure me that I not only had everything needed for me to rebuild, but I’ve also been granted the time to do so.  And, if they had told me, they surely didn’t tell me that one of my defining moments, would be after a day of literally no consequence, after having taking a hot bath. By the way, I’ve always loved a hot bath. It seems fitting, in an odd, but lovely way.
I had spent time earlier today lamenting to others about how I had recently been denied my SSDI and SSI benefits. I’ve been advised by two of my providers to hold off on going back to work until I complete a program that will hopefully help me develop better skills to cope with the stress of work and relationships. I’ve not been working for nearly a year and a half due to increased episodes of mania and depression and a weakened immune system where I was getting sick too often. However, I am becoming increasingly restless to get well. I am hopeful one day to be well enough to work again and contribute to society, helping others heal. I have always been in positions where I have helped others, often in recreation programming serving seniors or disabled adults. It was a meaningful job and I miss it. Living without money and being dependent on others is also very difficult when you have been relatively independent for most of your life, often living alone. It’s been a huge transition.
And so, as I was drying off and searching for my glasses, and then, it hit me. I suddenly recalled how many times over the past several years my spirit pleaded for rest. “Lord, I am weary”. Let me rest.
The details of my struggle are too great to mention here. I’ve been suffering as a result of running from pain and as a natural consequence to experiencing some unfortunate stressful events that continued to keep me hooked in a downward spiral until I literally loss the ability to work.
I knew in an instant, standing there with bathroom towel surrounding me, that I had been granted everything I needed to heal. I had prayed to heal for years. When you are living with chronic pain and anxiety, healing becomes a priority. I would say to myself: “If I only had the time to take off of work to truly get well and get the help I need”. Often these prayers were uttered while laying on wrinkled, warm sheets from tossing and turning throughout the night. The prayers were said when I had locked myself in the bathroom at work, pacing and trying yoga poses, to try and stop or prevent a panic attack. The prayers were uttered when I lost jobs and I was sobbing through broken tears saying again: “If I only had the time to get well”. The prayers were uttered when I was alone and broken and in physical pain.
I never felt that I had time to relax, I was always running from one job to the next. I was running to save an unsalvageable relationship with a Narcissist. All the desperate endeavors were exhausting and led me farther away from myself and into suffering. I prayed, read devotionals, sobbed, and hurt both physically and emotionally. I just did not know a way out yet.
The last couple of weeks I’ve been sulking, unhappy. I wanted to have more money. I’ve been too broke to go out and buy myself a coffee. My attention was gently drawn to the fact that I have two people helping me currently, my Mom and my ex-Spouse. I was reminded of my warm home with all my belongings. I already have two, not just one, Christmas trees up for the holidays. I actually have no money in savings, but I have people who are here for me and they are willing to help me as much as they can. My housing is provided for as I live with my ex-spouse currently and my mother pays for my car payment. My ex rents and we just recently moved into a two bedroom where we have more space. I have more than many and less than many. I actually have everything I need at the moment.
As I was doing this inventory in my head while drying off with my towel, I acknowledged that I really am ok. This is when it hit me like “a ton of bricks” that my prayers had been answered. I knew instantly that I had been granted the time and the help to truly rebuild my life. And now, I also possess the knowledge and know-how to not just build a flimsy structure, this time it would be an ornate castle of sorts where every stone placed will have been passed through my hand. It would be my design.
If I had not been through the struggle, I am certain now that I may not have understood the importance of rebuilding my life with each brick being bound by the mortar of “self love”. In the suffering, I was able to dismantle the cage and unravel the parts of me that needed inspection. The suffering had convinced me that change was definitely necessary. I remained frozen for awhile when the archaic structure fell to the ground.
And so, I am standing at the summit tonight! I’m looking forward to rebuilding so that I can reach even greater heights. But, for now, I will sit here and relish in the moment of receiving a true gift, time. I have been given exactly what my spirited needs. I have the space, the support, and the time to complete a treatment program and to do what is needed to be in a healthier state both mentally and physically. I was too busy surveying the loss to celebrate the victory. And now, I know better.
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Grateful to Have Enough

chicken close up dish food
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It’s Thanksgiving. It’s raining heavily outside. Blue Christmas light strands adorn the parameter of my apartment front door. I’ve carefully placed four blinking snowflakes outside on the front lawn, behind them is my front window encircled by more blue lights. My Christmas tree stands behind the window sparkling with white lights. It’s cheerful and it warms me inside. It’s enough, for right now. Enough.

I’m sitting in the dark with both Christmas trees lit, listening to Christmas music, alone. My friend is taking a nap. We’re in the middle of preparing our Thanksgiving feast and we have a bit of time to rest while the turkey cooks. My dog is here with me in the living room, napping quietly on her small bed. She looks peaceful.

Earlier, we walked the dog in the rain. I felt nostalgic as I took my time walking through the dense evergreen forest. It’s Thanksgiving in the Great Northwest. The pavement was wet with broken leaves. Something settled within me. Acknowledging that I’ve been running most of my life, something felt a bit different as I scanned the forest floor that surrounded me. “Maybe, I’ll finally reach peace in this lifetime yet”. I knew for this to happen, I needed to accept the ambiguity and embrace the uncertainty of it all.

This Thanksgiving I am unemployed, living with my ex-spouse who happens to be my best friend. My family relations have been strained and I rarely have contact with any of my family members except my mother. I’ve been very angry and hurt, but the heaviness is beginning to dissipate as I continue to cultivate compassion not only for myself, but for others. I’m grateful to be learning a lot. It’s enough, for now. Enough.

I truly have enough, even though I have very little. I’ve been too sick to work and I currently have my mother and ex-spouse helping me. They both know my story completely. They know how hard I tried for many years to work and how it ended up destabilizing me and lowering my immune system. I’d give anything to have the ability to work. But, I am being blessed with the opportunity to get the help I need and to learn the skills required to recover from the symptoms of PTSD that caged me. I have an excellent therapist and I’m growing and learning. I detest being this vulnerable, but I have helped many people when I worked and now it’s time for me to accept the help that I need. The help I am receiving is enough, for now. Enough.

I have a very small support system, but it is mighty. It’s easy to compare yourself to others and feel inadequate, saying “I should have more friends, like so & so”… But, for now, I have a small circle and it is enough. Enough.

I’m retraining myself to acknowledge my blessings and to repeatedly say, I have enough. Often, I feel separate from the materialistic machine that consumes most people’s endeavors. I’m longing to develop a life that perpetually acknowledges that I do actually have enough. I don’t need to become preoccupied with the foolish obsession of always desiring more.

The only thing I truly desire more of is love. I find that I’m often misplacing my desire for love with other more concrete things that do not provide the same benefit.

Tonight, I’m going to sit down with my best friend and my dog, as we feast on a meal that would serve 10-12 people! It’s enough! It’s going to be a beautiful experience of flavor and aroma. We’ll be having Mojitos with our main meal and then hot-buttered rum cider with our pumpkin pie. Even though I am relatively poor at the moment due to my disability (others are paying my housing and bills), I will feel like a queen when I sit down to this incredible feast. There will be Christmas lights & music for ambience and I’m hoping to savor every morsel. Because, at this moment, it is enough. It’s probably always been enough, sadly, I didn’t always see that it was.

There is so much struggle and suffering in the world. I don’t want to deny anyone of that. Life is full of pain and uncertainty. I want to relax within it, no longer avoiding or fighting the reality that exists. I’ve been grieving quite a few losses in my lifetime. And now, I’m ready to move my consciousness into another realm where I am truly awake and aware, absorbing the best of each moment, embracing the joy and the mystery of life. I’ll take my pain and wear it around me like a coat that has weathered a few storms, and it will keep me warm and dry. I don’t feel it’s best to deny grief or pain, it’s an individual process. Still yet, I’m excited and ready to let go and lose myself in the authenticity of each experience.

I’m grateful today. I’m breathing life into my longing for love and recognizing how I truly do have enough in my life.

I’m grateful for the seeds I am planting and the connections I am making with others here on WordPress, Twitter, and on Facebook. I’m putting one foot in front of the other and I’m getting the treatment I need to heal. I don’t know what’s next, but I’m optimistic about it. I thank you all for taking the time to read about my journey. I’ve been given some excellent advice  & support here and that means a lot. All of this continually restores my faith and belief that people are truly caring and want to help. I sincerely hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving (for those of you in America)! I’ve got to get back to preparing the feast!! Happy Thanksgiving!

 

It’s Nearly Time to Take Flight: Abandoning Your Cage

nature animal park birds
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Long ago, a bold, little bird was stuffed into a small, steel cage. There she sat, on her wooden swing, occasionally belting out a sweet, soulful song. She was careful not to sing too loudly.

Behind the steel bars, she felt safe. The steel structure became a way of life for the little bird. Inside the cramped cage, she was often lonely, but the distance surrounding her kept her boundless energy and enthusiasm somewhat confined and at a tolerable level to those who were easily annoyed by the sometimes boisterous bird.

Time passed and the little bird grew weary. The cage was becoming a hindrance and was getting in the way of connecting with the other birds. The little bird had to chirp loudly to get the attention of the others and often she felt invisible and unloved. What once made her feel safe was now making her feel distant and sad. The little bird often was angry and tense without truly knowing why. She stopped singing and swinging and sat in her small, steel cage brooding over what to do. This went on for quite some time.

Then the rain began. It was slow and steady rain at first and the little bird was able to avoid getting too wet. But, this was temporary as it one day really began to pour, raining “cats and dogs”. The wind picked up and the rain was blown sideways, completely soaking the little bird. And the poor little bird had no idea what to do. So, she sat in the soaking rain, shivering, waiting for someone to come save her. People often came, looking on, perhaps giving her some morsels to eat, but they were just as confused as she was and had their own storms to weather. So the little bird continued to sit in the rain, softly singing a ballad and perpetually wondering what she could do.

The storms raged on night and day. The little bird thought she might die and even longed to on certain days. She felt lost. She was isolated and had become embittered and even somewhat mean, at times. The cage that she fled to for protection was now endangering her life and song. She had stopped singing entirely and it took everything she could muster just to get through the day and survive.

Still yet, the little bird continued to question. She never stopped trying to understand why she was so alone and what to do about it. Was this really her destination? Why? She was persistent and was determined to find an answer.

After years of being isolated and alone, she was studying herself one day and noticed the steel bars surrounding her. She had seen them before, right? Perhaps so, but since she felt she needed them maybe she overlooked them. She started to take a very hard look at the steel bars surrounding her and spent time acknowledging the role they have played in her life. She began to realize that the bars had become “part of her”. She quickly implored: “Are these steel bars not separate from me?”. Instinctively, she knew the bars had held her back. But, she was frightened at the prospect of leaving them. Initially, she did not even know it was a possibility to leave!  She was scared and excited all at once at the discovery that the steel bars were separate from her and perhaps she could leave the small, steel cage! Time passed and these thoughts churned in her mind night and day as she tried to make sense of it all. What does it all mean?

And then one day, it happened. The little bird was swinging in her cage. She had started to belt out a few songs. The sunlight was illuminating the cage. She was studying her cage and her eyes landed on the door. It was ajar! Funny, the little bird thought: “I never noticed that!  How did I not notice that the door has been slightly open the entire time”? The little bird was curious and cautious all at once. Joy flooded her little being. She knew that she was nearly ready. She wasn’t sure what it would be like outside the cage, but she knew that, in time, she needed to abandon the cage to truly recover. There was a way out of the misery that had entrapped her for so long! Her time had come to be free, to soar effortlessly, free from the cage that had chained her.

Sometimes the answer that we long for means letting go of something we did not know we could release. We have to be extremely persistent like the little bird to find the answer. Years can pass and we can nearly give up. But, don’t! Be relentless in your pursuit to find the peace you deserve. It is yours to have. Keep going.

 

Guns and the Mentally Ill: How Scapegoating is Increasing Stigma

 

black pistol with bullet shell in mid air
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Dear American Public,

As an individual who has suffered for over two decades with Bipolar 1, I share with you the same outrage and heartache you more than likely experience when learning about another incidence of gun violence in our country. I cannot imagine the deep despair and sadness that comes with losing a loved one in such a senseless tragedy. Gun violence strips away our sense of security and is another issue that divides our country.

As we struggle to understand the root causes of gun violence, many Americans are pointing fingers at people like “me”, the mentally ill. Given that most of the mentally ill are not violent and are more likely to be victims of crime, I grow weary of the stigma that grows with each passing incident. It looks like, to me, the mentally ill have become “the scapegoat” of the gun violence debate. It’s convenient to state that the mentally ill are the problem, after all, the stigma alone perpetuates fear and misunderstanding and encourages the public to doubt the credibility and stability of the mentally ill. The mentally ill are a largely misunderstood population and often those who suffer do so silently.

Ironically, the same individuals scapegoating the mentally ill as “dangerous and violent”, are the same who wish to cut funding to programs like SSDI (disability insurance), vocational rehabilitation and other programs that benefit the mentally ill. Discrimination in the workplace is common for those who struggle and as a result employment is often difficult to maintain. The government over the years has done little to decrease discriminatory practices in the workplace and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) is often very slow to act, its power is limited. If the public is fearful that the “mentally ill” are violent, the government actually does very little to intervene and instead often places individuals who are struggling in very desperate situations. The point being that the mentally ill are literally pushed to their breaking point with a government that is so slow to act when providing assistance. This puts the survival of many who struggle in constant jeopardy. This is evidence again that the mentally ill do not resort to violence despite the lack of assistance and treatment available and that many are victims of violence and discrimination.  There is absolutely no safety net for the persistent and severe mentally ill in our country. And yet, even with the constant struggle of living with a mental illness, most hold themselves or are held by others through difficult and trying times.

On a personal note, last year I lost my job as a Social Worker with the State of WA, DSHS. I was fired after a medical leave at the first meeting established to put accommodations in place. I was told at this meeting that I was disqualified due to my disability of Bipolar 1 and was granted no accommodations. As a result of losing my job (and other jobs related to my illness), I relapsed and have not been able to work this past year. I attempted to get on to Vocational Rehabilitation Services and was waitlisted indefinitely. I applied for SSDI and am still involved in the appeals process which has already taken nearly a year and I have received no benefits as of yet. I was told it could take another year and a half to get a hearing. If I did not have a friend to live with who was willing and able to help me, I would have lost everything by now. I would be homeless. I only have a small Aging, Blind, and Disabled monthly cash benefit of $197 and food stamps that keep me afloat currently.

I am writing this to share with you the bleak reality of many mentally ill people. My survival and livelihood was attacked by the discriminatory practices of the State of WA, DSHS, and I was denied access to employment as a result. The lack of assistance by government programs that were developed to help people in my situation have initially been denied or waitlisted. This has placed extreme stress on me when I am already struggling with a severe and persistent mental illness.  If I didn’t have the same upbringing or education as I thankfully did, perhaps I might have turned “violent” due to the strain this all has caused me. The point being that the mentally ill often are put in very stressful situations that are often caused by the stigma surrounding mental illness, and yet, we usually do not “break”. I know, in time, even with my illness, I will be back on my own two feet, contributing to society and hopefully being a benefit to others. I have always enjoyed helping others, NOT harming them.

I believe mental illness can play a role in those committing crimes that are violence, but there are other factors that create the psychological makeup of someone who would commit an atrocious act on that level. It is not stemming from mental illness alone. Often the individuals who are planning violent attacks are not going to seek treatment. Therefore, tighter regulations where access to guns is difficult to obtain might be our only hope to prevent some of these incidents of gun violence.

In the end, bringing light to the issues surrounding the mentally ill is not a bad thing. I agree that we need a better system where individuals struggling have easy access to quality treatment that is affordable. There also needs to be short term disability to prevent homelessness and immediate access to vocational rehabilitation programs that provide training to ensure employment is successful. We currently have a disability insurance program that can often take up to 2-3 years to begin receiving benefits.  Putting the mentally ill under that level of stress where some are forced to the streets can cause anyone depression and despair. It is unacceptable treatment towards a population that suffers to no fault of their own. Could it cause certain people to be pushed over the edge? I don’t know. I only know that as a person with a mental illness I have, at times,  been pushed to the edge, but have never once physically attacked anyone.

The mentally ill have become the scapegoat for the issue of gun violence. If you are going to scapegoat the mentally ill, at least address the issues that might push them over the edge in the first place. I personally see gun violence as an issue of easy access to guns that is continually fueled by a society that has become more and more detached and less connected. I also feel that the economic disparity in our country and the increase in hate speech in social media is also a problem. Gun violence is a complicated issue and should be tackled as such. There is no easy and simple fix. It will take time, effort, and commitment to decrease gun violence in our country.

I truly hope we can work together to begin making progress in the area of gun reform. It doesn’t have to be this way. We can change, we just have to believe we can.

A concerned citizen (who happens to live with a mental illness),

Amy

Cultivating Your Songbird: Letting Go to Love

IMG_4452I’m in a bit of a hole at the moment. I am again fighting change and dragging my feet, clinging to what needs to be released in my life to finally be free. I’m caught up in the confusing web of chaos and lies that has captured my time and attention for years. Lies that were told to me by others and lies I told myself in order to maintain the status quo and thus promote a false sense of security. I keep returning to this vacuous space where I once stood unaware that I was alone. I still occasionally employ the same old scripts that are in need of retiring. There have been times that I’m so overcome with grief that I’m desperate to return to the steel bars that caged me. I enter briefly into those dark and confining spaces only to realize that the chatter has silenced and I’ve actually been alone all along. It was all a mirage, a swinging mirror that was clanking against the steel cage, a distraction that resulted in hours of endless, mindless preoccupation. The cage was now empty and I was in full awareness of the solitude that shrouded my little song.

My first realization as I stood, alone, was the deafening silence surrounding me. It’s been my voice all along, chirping desperately into the empty spaces, echoing and bouncing off the stone walls, that has kept me tirelessly hooked and responding. In this new silence where I have all at once stopped singing, I hear nothing. I’m enveloped in soft and silent spaces that communicate vast solitude and begs for my somber, but awakened soul, to fill the empty spaces and soothe the rough edges that were created from fighting and flying solo for so long. It’s time drop the armor so that I can spread my wings of self discovery and visit the places that I have cut myself off from in my desperate attempts to get love from those in my life unwilling to give it.

I’ve stopped fighting and have began grieving the losses that I had truly never gained. Those longed for connections and I were never even in the same room together. It was the chatter of my own voice I had been wrestling with while the objects of my longing were only able to see my rage and hurt. My desire to connect and rebuild was foreign to them as they remained in their cage on their post, constructing their own soliloquy. The more I fought to connect with these individuals, the more alienated I became, until one day I woke up to the tune of silence. Determined to love myself, I discovered that I had finally freed myself from those who had no real desire to commune with me. This painful discovery was the beginning of my freedom from my cage, and was my first steps toward self-love.

I recently have been in the dance of wanting to connect again and have had those old urges to reach out. I realize that this is part of the grieving process and as much as I would like to speed through and be flying free, there is only so much I can do to hasten this difficult process. Sometimes, it means getting sucked in to old patterns of thoughts and behaviors and even potentially fighting once again for a connection that does not exist. Often, if I am truthful to myself, this connection never really existed.

I’ve been involved with people from family members to partners that were often too unhealthy to truly connect. I wanted the connection so desperately that I often brutally demanded it. Growing up with others who were often distant emotionally, has left me stunted and uncertain as to how to get my needs met in the relationship. I was never allowed to express anger openly growing up as a child and certain family members were unable to connect in intimate and safe ways. I’ve always longed for what I instinctively knew existed, but I became horribly ineffective at obtaining it from others in my life. I stayed in sick relationships for too long, ruthlessly insisting that we connect and grow together. These ineffective tactics only served to alienate me and make me feel depressed and, at times, even suicidal. I felt unlovable and unworthy because the few people that I desperately wanted to receive love from, displayed over and over in actions and words, that they were not concerned with my welfare, one time even expressing to me: “I don’t even think about you”.

For years, I was determined to get my needs met from the few people in my life that haphazardly remained, often involving themselves when and only if they needed something from me. I knew I was being used, at times, but I accepted their excuses and even made excuses for their inability to connect with me so that I too could receive love. I was desperate to get the occasional crumbs and willingly remained engaged with these individuals in my life. I moved across the country for two people in my life and I was there for these individuals at times when their lives crashed and burned. At their lowest time, I was the one standing beside them, encouraging and supporting them. For one of these individuals, this meant helping her even bathe and cooking food for her and allowing her to stay at my home after she nearly died in the hospital to an illness related to her substance abuse. However, once she was back on her own two feet, she again began to distance herself, argue with me, and leave my home going back to her addiction. Over and over again, I was left by these two individuals who seemed to only need me or want to connect during times when they needed my help. I rarely said no, but over the last few years the chatter in my cage increased and I began to act in ugly and mean ways to desperately demand and insist they get the help needed to heal and thus, be able to connect with me and others. Obviously, this did not bode well and I ended up swinging in my little cage, alone, in the deafening silence.

The most difficult part of my journey was realizing that the connection never really truly existed in the first place. I was desiring an authentic and genuine connection. One that involved truth and honesty and reciprocation. Sadly, I learned over time that these two people I was hung up on in my life where not well enough to truly connect and they both broke my heart. I don’t feel that either of them are even connected to themselves and both often gain their love and adoration from a safe distance from those who care for them, but are not truly connected to them. There is a difference between loving someone from a distance and truly connecting to them. I learned that the walls they had built were too high and the communication received from me only served to overwhelm and confuse them.  I had to let go of both of them. I still love them, but remaining in a distant relationship where I was often used and abandoned only served to make me bitter and angry. Several times I have recently fallen, crashed, and burned, and neither one of these people even took the time to contact me and provide support, not even a brief phone call.

Both of these people in my life whom I loved dearly, were lessons to me. I learned a lot from loving two people that for whatever reason were unable to love me back. Here are a few lessons I’ve learned from this difficult journey:

  1. Love thyself. This sounds pretty simple, right? But, there is so much tied into this tiny little phrase, that it is actually multi-layered and extremely complex at the same time!  I learned that once I stopped demanding love for myself, silence engulfed me. This was intolerable, at first, as I wanted to go back into safe spaces and become preoccupied by what had chained me. Why? Because that was more comfortable in the end. I realized though I would be right back into the painful cycle. This is when I realized what it truly means to: “Love Thyself”. it means to clear your plate of items and people that are not meant for your time and attention. Let them go, as hard as it may seem as doing so will allow you the space in your life to be filled with people and things that serve you. This is not being selfish. It is you “loving yourself” enough to direct your life so that you are not endlessly responding and engaging in things or with people that zap your energy and therefore diminish your true potential. You deserve people and things in your life that honor and respect you. When you get wrapped up with individuals that are not honoring you and are abusive or neglectful of your needs, it actually is a choice you are making to remain comfortable in old patterns and thoughts. Love yourself and free yourself from those patterns.
  2. Leaving sometimes means you are going to an unfamiliar place, it’s ok. My life is in major transition. I left an abusive relationship two years ago. I am distancing myself from certain family members because of addiction issues and my inability to help them. I am currently not working because my mental illness was exacerbated by all the change in my life. I am without money or a job and it is extremely stressful. I am completely unraveled and have absolutely no idea where my life will end up! I am living with someone currently as I had no money saved up and am going through the process of applying for SSDI. I also have chosen to not date because my life is in so much upheaval currently that I would not want to invite another person in to the chaos. It is a very scary and disorienting time for me. Because I spent so much time trying with people who did not try back, I am a bit isolated with less support than I would like. So, I know deep down that I am headed to a different place, both spiritually and physically. It is my responsibility to breathe life and beauty into all the spaces I let grow dark and damp.  Let in the light!!  I don’t know where I am going, but it will be somewhere and I am hopeful that loving myself and putting myself in the center will rearrange my life “furniture” in a beautiful and inspiring way. So, to anyone out there who is struggling and feels “knocked down” by what life has thrown you, BREATHE. It’s ok to not have all the answers at once. It will come. Just put yourself first and let go of anything weighting down your wings!
  3. Forgive yourself! This is a big one. I made some huge mistakes in my life. Oh man, the chaos that ensued. I was always one to “throw caution to the wind” and go with my gut feelings. I did not realize at the time that living so haphazardly was not an act of self care or love. My life blew up before me and became unmanageable really quickly. In the last half decade of my life, I became a raging mess. All the times I dropped everything for others, I was now left alone to deal with my chaos myself. I rescued others, but no one came to rescue me! I felt betrayed. I was mad and enraged and hated the world. I then became ugly as a result and made even more mistakes, hurting myself most of all. Breathe. It is a very difficult life lesson to learn, but when you don’t love yourself and put yourself as a priority, you are going to get hurt. For most of my mistakes, I really only had myself to blame. I was swinging madly in my cage, chattering and tweeting up a storm, belting out a dramatic melody. And, for the most part, I was alone. It’s important to embrace your innate humanness and forgive yourself. I’m actively involved in this very process and feel it is an important component of cultivating compassion for yourself and others. We can love more fully when we forgive.
  4. Have firm boundaries. I used to let everyone in to my life and I disclosed my life story to anyone who would listen. I was “an open book”. I’m learning that perhaps being so open and inviting is not the best practice. I want to believe everyone is kind and has my best interest, but life experiences has made me the wiser. This is hard for me because it goes against everything I learned growing up. I was taught to be giving and kind and to accept everyone!  And so, I am trying to have better boundaries and to “say no” when it regards something that I do not feel comfortable doing. This is a new landscape for me and it will take adjusting and trial and error. But, as I work on putting my life as the priority, I will say no more often to the people and things I really don’t want on my plate. 

And, so my little songbird is singing a different tune these days. It’s a tune of self discovery and self love. I believe we are here to learn and to love. Sometimes, I get discouraged because I am getting somewhat older and I wish I had learned these things earlier. I feel behind, like I must catch up. And then I feel perhaps it has all unraveled this away for a reason. No matter when you begin to sing a different tune it truly makes no difference. Belt it out and embrace it! This is your song to create and continually sing throughout your life. I hope it is full, with a joyful melody, layered with beautiful harmonies!