Let Me Be Light!: From Trauma to Snowflakes & Lighthouses

snow woman winter snowflakes
Photo by Kristin Vogt on Pexels.com

I’ve been stewing all day. Heck, actually, I’ve been stewing all week. It was at some point in the day when the snow outside began softly falling that I grinned, ear to ear, amused that I had been granted my little wish. Something as simple as a snowflake would provide the shift needed to escape my cage and cause me to contemplate taking a new path. Admittedly, I’ve been too tired and exhausted to push forward. I’ve been halfway hoping that someone would just carry me to the place I long to be.

The cold, dark days of dreary drizzle had blended together, blurry and boring. Restless, I sought stimulation and solace in the darkest of places where the sun doesn’t shine. I ran back to an unhealthy preoccupation where I clung tightly to the familiar misery of desperately trying to win a rush. Ah, how the simple act of gambling serves as the perfect parallel of my life, always waiting and wishing for the crumbs of love to fall, like waiting for the buzzer sound that means I’ve won a few free spins. I’m so starved that I was nearly picking crumbs off of the dirty floor, devouring them, and scouring the surface for more. If only I could get a bonus or two, I reassured myself, I’d be sure to be back on top! It comes and goes and I am never satiated. But, every now and again, I win just enough to distract me from the love that’s leaving me, always leaving me, as time slips away and I make no move to seize it. Looking back, perhaps the one who is leaving me the least of the crumbs, is myself.

As the snow continues to fall today and the ground became completely covered, I’m struck by its stark beauty. This blanket of white is accompanied by a bitterly cold wind and still, it seems so peaceful and serene. It is soft and new, changing the entire landscape with millions of snowflakes stacking up and sticking together, altering the reality of those experiencing it. We rarely get much lowland snow here in the Puget Sound region. A snow can lift you into anther realm, one of childlike joy, intrigue, and playfulness. My spirit easily becomes light, like the snowflakes drifting sweetly and slowly to the ground.

Those who have struggled with a trauma disorder know that life can be anything but light or carefree. Often, trauma binds you to maladaptive ways of coping that continue to keep you trapped. It’s difficult to let go of these coping mechanisms because in times of trauma, they have made you feel safe, so much so that releasing them feels an impossible and incomprehensible feat. At one time, these maladaptive ways meant our survival and therefore it makes sense that we struggle to let them go. Often, they are ingrained in us so deeply that we forget they are only a mechanisms, not a personality characteristics. These old patterns have little power over us except for the power we gave to them long ago.

On a personal level, I have been unwilling to “give up” my obsessive thoughts and compulsions relating to my trauma because it feels unsafe to do so, as if I were “letting down my guard”. What if I stopped fighting? I often have felt no one would care & in some cases this has been proven true, and yet, I’m slowly realizing that when I never leave the battle, the battle never leaves me. I have been sincerely trying to escape, but I often chain myself more tightly in the process, perpetuating a false sense of security that inevitably leads to my demise again and again. This downward spiral is going to take quite a bit of strength and perseverance to totally break free. I’m still not sure it will ever entirely happen, we’ll see.

Unfortunately, the maladaptive ways of coping will further trap you and re-traumatize you. It’s a cyclic beast that can render you depressed, anxious, exhausted, and even in physical chronic pain. And it does this so cunningly, without your awareness or permission. The cycle continues while you operate in very limited ways that “promise” you protection and safety. Some stay stuck and stagnate, others become increasingly more sick and will even be re-traumatized by engaging in patterns that unknowingly welcomes the trauma back into their lives.

Over the past couple of years, my trauma was recently triggered and intertwined with the trauma that my niece endured. I felt guilty during the times I remained silent when I could see her suffering so. Her trauma lead me to compulsively engage in desperate behaviors of continually checking up on her with the insistence that she receive the opportunity to get the help she needs. She now is nearly disabled from drug use, suffering from a mental illness, and is potentially facing time in jail. I spent the last two years trying to “save her” and it only resulted in me becoming more isolated from her and my family. Her nuclear family is very dysfunctional, and to be realistic, she probably does not have the best chance for recovery.

In the last two years, I sat with my hands tied behind my back, shouting from the sidelines, as others neglected to help her. I watched while the system failed her. The last few years have been particularly tough on me, watching a young individual whom I love struggle in so many ways knowing I could do little to help her. The invalidation and neglect she was receiving, painfully reminded me of the times I have felt invisible and abandoned. The fight to “save her” metaphorically became the fight to “save myself”. I launched war in my family and it was brutal and messy. At the end of the day, the dysfunction continued and little has truly changed in the family.

Through the chaos and drama, I came to identify myself as the scapegoat and certain historical patterns finally made more sense to me. I stepped back, not really wanting to see the unhealthy patterns of others, but determined to accept the brutal truth, even if it was painful. This process left me alone and abandoned in the storm, clinging to any semblance of sanity as I watched the devastation before me ensue and the denial others practiced in order to avoid the truth. In reality, certain members of my family had already abandoned themselves years ago by surrendering to an aggressive and ugly addiction that robbed them of so much. They’ve been tightly bound to their negative coping mechanisms of addiction and chaos to numb the pain away. Their lives are going in fast forward, often in a blur, without truly smelling, tasting, or seeing much of anything. I’ve been angry and ugly in my relentless quest to help them, but in my heart I know it’s time to truly ‘let go” and forgive. I’m searching for softness to return to me. I long to feel light, like the snowflakes floating freely to the ground.

Healing from trauma appears to come in waves. It seems that I get swept out to sea over and over again. Perhaps this desolate see is just too alluring, pulling me in over and over again, crashing upon the shore, leaving me weary. I know I am nearly ready to shed the lifeguard vest and let go. Perhaps, I’ll find a cliff high above the ocean where I can sit far away from the shore and listen to the waves crash in the distance. Feeling this vast and foreign space around me, I will be able to scan the horizon for incoming storms and will shelter myself, avoiding another shipwreck. And in time, I’d love to morph into a lighthouse, solid and full of hope. One that stands in strength, peacefully warning sailors of perilous waters, with its penetrating light, piercing the darkest of night.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Waiting No More: It’s Time to Drive!

woman using map on gray car compartment
Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

I’ve spent a lot of time waiting.

I’ve been restless, at times, desperately desiring to be completely satiated, longing for validation and visibility.

I waited a whole decade consumed by the desire to be passionately loved. I gave every ounce of my being to this fruitless pursuit, determined that one day it would yield the commitment desired from this individual. The commitment never came. In fact, the more I pursued and pushed, the more I lost myself. Losing him was letting go of the long held belief that I wasn’t good enough.

I waited for several years for a sincere apology and a gesture from a family member that communicated reconciliation was desired. I waited for certain family members to heal and recover from their addiction enough so that they could not only care about themselves, but they also could care about and connect with me. I waited years while we argued, knowing that the arguing was all that I had left. There was no true desire from them to know me or connect with me. I waited for years, grieving, often raging and demanding change. I only ended up alone and alienated. Little has changed in their behavior which has landed some of them permanently disabled, while others, potentially facing jail. I still am grieving, but I have given up on “waiting”.

I waited many years for my career to “take off”. I waited for someone out there to reward my hard work, experiences, education, etc. In the last decade, my work potential has been overshadowed by my disability of Bipolar 1, ADHD, and C-PTSD. Working with a disability complicated things and has temporarily placed my career goals “on hold”. I am currently not employed. I waited to land that “awesome job” and when I did finally achieve that goal, it was quickly thwarted by my disability. I got sick with several respiratory illnesses and was prescribed prednisone, a steroid, that inevitably caused a mania. I requested accommodations and then took a medical leave. When I returned from the medical leave, which was actually encouraged by my supervisor, I was terminated from my job without the opportunity to work with accommodations in place. I was devastated and have still not bounced back from the discrimination I endured. I waited for years to find the job that would provide security and pay well and as soon as I found it, I lost it.

I waited many years to be free from anxiety and depression. I thought perhaps a combination of therapy and medications would one day set me free from my struggle. I am still waiting on my complete freedom from the symptoms I have endured related to my disability. I am still not completely free from certain habits and symptoms stemming from trauma that I have experienced in this lifetime.

I have had an unraveling of sorts in this lifetime: failed marriage, failed career, failed engagement, a loss of family, a loss of employment, and the inability to have children. I have lived with a mental illness that often has stripped me of my dignity and distanced me from others. I isolate a lot because interacting with others can be difficult especially if I am working. When I did work, it took all my energy, leaving me feeling depleted. It was during these times I really needed the safety net and support of family and a solid relationship. Instead, as I struggled to maintain work I was often drained further by having to fight for love from my family and my partner. I was fortunate to have the support of my ex-spouse in the process and my mother. Still yet, I often felt overwhelmed and alone. I had waited a very long time for something to “work out” and I felt “let down” by the world. I was deeply depressed and this went on for a very long time.

In losing so much, I discovered that I was left with me. Over time I have let go of what was making me “hard” and I am now peeling off the layers that have hardened me. I’m exposing my fleshy fruit, my essence raw and vulnerable.

I don’t currently have a job. I’m single and living with my ex-spouse for support. I don’t have a home. My bank account is empty. My family relations are strained and I primarily am only connected to my mother, my step-father has never been too involved and my sister and her adult kids are all estranged from me due to the conflicts and chaos that  addiction has caused. My ex-spouse is a great friend and support. And, I have my dog, Gracie, who is very loving.

Losing so much is teaching me to be more humble and to appreciate what I do have, not just in possessions, but in talents, skills, and experiences. I’ve been stripped from what I felt was needed to feel valued and visible. I’m learning to define my self worth, not by the expectations placed from society, but more on the intangibles that define me.

I waited for years for someone or something to “show up” for me. I watched while others got married, had careers, and shared photos of their cute kids on Facebook. In ways, everything I had longed for was perpetually being displayed by others. I wasn’t jealous of their good fortune, but I often wondered why things had not worked out for me. In the end, it wasn’t in the cards. This is what I am learning to accept and in doing so I am slowly opening up the world that is mine. I am no longer grieving what I never had or lost. Instead, I am accepting the hand I was dealt, with curiosity, and am ready to discover this world embracing my reality wholeheartedly. I have always acknowledged some of the blessings that being single with no children has afforded, like ample time to travel and engage in leisure pursuits that I enjoy.

I have decided I am tired of “waiting”. I am letting go of all the people and things that were keeping me stuck. I am showing up for myself. I’m determined to awaken to the present and accept with grace and gratitude each moment. I sincerely want to fill the space that is mine.

It’s odd to think that in losing so much, that I am actually finding myself. This fills me with excitement and joy because I know it is what I have been searching for my entire life. I know intuitively that this is the greatest gift with the most returns. Investing in myself will only yield positive results.

I have so much more work to do, but now I have the right person in the driver seat, ME!! I’m not waiting around for others to call the shots or to determine my emotional state for the day. I genuinely want to be happy and want to be responsible for my happiness. I realize I will struggle from time to time, but healing is happening and I am grateful!!

 

 

 

 

Fractured Family Tree: The Scapegoat Lets Go

landscape nature night relaxation
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I went down “that path” again. I knew in my gut what was waiting for me. Still, I went anyway, carrying that last bit of hope, protected deep inside me. I was still holding on to a lovely memory that has since become more clear over time that it wasn’t even real anyway. It was always this way. My family has been fractured, disconnected, and unhealthy.

I was the one in the end that became visibly sick, and in time raged, demanding more. And I am the one now, becoming well, sometimes still raging, and ready to “let go”. It’s very hard. Everything inside me wants to throw another all-out tantrum, demanding an answer for why my family is unable to heal together. It’s lonely. I’m sad and hurting. Still yet, I must face the truth, cry it out, grieve, let go of the “dream”, and accept what is.

This is the only way, because staying in the fight means certain death, for me. I’m not strong enough to stand among all the devastation, watching people I love lose everything, while devaluing me. I have meant nothing to certain people in my life. I can’t stay in a space where people defend and enable the deep neglect and abuse. I am unable to remain where I am character smeared, gaslighted, and lied to on a daily basis. I need to remain very distant from those who enable and allow the abuse. Some are too sick to see what is really occurring. I see it and it has made me very sick to try with everything inside me to awaken people when they would rather sleep. And so, I have watched the people I love lose everything to addiction and narcissistic abuse. The neglect has been so great that five kids, now adults, are not working: 3 are disabled (two due to drug use), 1 is facing jail, and the other refuses to work or get her GED even though she has a baby. No one in the home, six adults, work and they have a toddler in the home. I’m not even scratching the surface of all the chaos and drama that has occurred over the past decade due to the drug use, but it has been extreme. Trust me.

I’m left feeling empty. Another Christmas passed with the chaos related to addiction. Another Christmas where I did not receive a “Merry Christmas” text or a “thank you” for the presents I bought. Another Christmas where my Mom enabled the behavior and I am left unsupported.

It is time to “let go”. I went down that road with the last shred of hope slipping, like sand, through my fingers, racing to find my family. And the sand quickly disappeared, blown away by the storm that has raged on for years. I can’t chase it anymore. It was the last bit of hope I had and I couldn’t hold onto any longer. I had to let go.

I’m alone. And yet, I know this is exactly where I am supposed to be.

Our family tree has been splintered and diseased for a long time. I grew very sick and I knew in order to save myself, I had to cut limbs and shed certain branches, otherwise I would perish. Sometimes, I still feel I may perish. This hurt both physically and emotionally. I’m not breathing, my face is numb, and I’m holding my breath from how it hurts. I’ve been called “dramatic” in my effort to wake people up. And yet, two of my sister’s adult children are now disabled due to addiction. They will more than likely never work, never have children, never live on their own. I am avoiding details, because I ultimately am trying to stay closer to the center. Still, I’m bewildered as to how I lost my whole family and no one there can “hear me”. It’s a nightmare, but one I have been living for so long that I need to “wake up”. I cannot remain in the space any longer. I did not create it and truth be told, I am not welcome by anyone in it. I’m relatively invisible, drowned out by the larger players. I’m forever “little Amy” and “the little sister” and have not yet been seen, nor respected as a separate entity from the family unit.

Our family tree is fractured. The historical cycle is splintering and breaking, falling to the cold, hard ground with a thud.

I remember a few years ago, I was shell-shocked. I was constantly running from distraction to distraction. I was in a tumultuous relationship with a Narc who was abusive psychologically, emotionally, and physically. I was gambling a lot. My anxiety was “off the charts” and I felt trapped. I began to plead and beg to heal. I set the intention in my mind that I would “wake up” and heal from whatever had me running. I did not realize the work ahead of me, nor the lonely and sometimes dark road. I did not know that carving out my self esteem would mean getting in touch with the anger inside where I was left and abandoned by certain people in my life. Why was I not enough for them? I had to realize that I was enough for myself. The angry rages were in part defining my worth. Because, some of those I loved were continually in words and actions telling me I was insignificant. I realize it is a sickness. I am very sad for that. Still yet, I do not deserve to stay in a space where I am unwanted, unloved, and unappreciated. Nor, do I deserve to stay where people I love are not getting well because others who are older and have power are blocking their growth. The one person I feel that can help is also sick and chooses to enable instead. And, I am devastated, angry, and sad.

The family tree is fractured. And I have tried to not be overly revealing, but it is important for this process to be shared. People are sometimes too loyal to their families and hesitant to divulge too much information. Is this keeping our world from truly healing? When the family unit becomes toxic and a danger to others in the family, should  we not seek help? The loyalty might be keeping us stunted. My sole purpose is to promote growth. Yes, I have some guilt for “over”sharing. But, I feel compelled to write my truth and the trauma surrounding my life. I want a complete way out of it. And, I would be thrilled if any of my family members found a way out as well. I have lost hope. It’s been too long of a road. I got on the road again and was quickly back in the quicksand, sinking, with no one holding my hand.

The family tree is fractured. I will remain distant so that I can process my anger and the trauma leading up to the fracture of the tree. I invested a lot of time and energy and now I must let go and invest in myself. It was another mistake and I regret going down the road, yet again. I thought I was ready and able to “handle it”. I saw the destruction and burned in anger from the lost connection. I burned in anger from the loss of potential in the lives of those I dearly love. They are no longer recognizable. They have lost themselves and my Mom is lost in enabling them to foster a fabricated connection. She is lost and I am sad she is not able to help me. I would have been ecstatic for one of my nieces or nephews to make it out.

The family tree is fractured. I’m going to do everything this time to stay away. Their addiction became my addiction as I tried to salvage anything from the fire that swept through the forest, burning everything down in it’s path. Hope is dangerous. I really need to pick up the pieces of what is left of my life and rebuild. My life is the only thing I can control, anyhow.

This is and has been hard. I am grieving. Everything I thought about healing has been turned upside down. I do well for awhile and then have another storm. I’m realizing through the storms how to build better shelter around me for the next. My skin is hardening. My spirit softening, but I’m still not fully there, ready to completely accept the loss and “what is”. I have always been living in somewhat of a fabricated fantasy and healing is exposing me to the harsh elements, but somehow demonstrating to me that I am strong.

I hate the mistakes and messes I make when raging, but I see there is value in them as I am standing up for myself and learning boundaries. I still am super stubborn in setting a boundary and in not doing so I get burned very badly. Boundary setting is new for me as I always let everyone and everything in and have been used a lot. I don’t feel I ever learned to protect the space around me. I do feel guilty and sad for how things have ended, as it was ugly. But, I am beginning to feel that when you are in a toxic situation it does not matter how it ends, just that it does indeed end. I have stayed too long, always coming back with apologies, because I left in a brutal way. The cycle begins again and I am caught up in it. The abuse has been brutal and I deserve safety. Also, they deserve my absence so that in time maybe they will focus on getting well. My presence did not matter to some of them anyway.

The tree is fractured. It now stands alone in the stark winter air. There are stars filling the sky and it feels less alone and more peaceful. There is so much space around me. I needed this space. I’ll sit with this for awhile. Healing is hard & messy, but we are all worth it.

 

Making Snow Angels: Forgiveness and Freedom

baby beanie child childhood
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Please, stop the rain.

Turn these heavy, wet drops into snowflakes, blanketing the muddy and messy mistakes of life.

If it’s going to be a cold day, at least lighten my step with a lovely snow. Frame the chill with beautiful evergreen trees, heavy with the snow that the branches lovingly hold.

Once the rain turns to snow, I become like a kid, giddy, and trusting the process, embracing the world once again.

I’m surrounded by falling snow like a figurine, suspended, in a snow globe. I’m no longer clenching fists and jaw and I relax a little, turning toward the gentleness of life. Everything takes on a new, fresh identity. Even the cold seems welcoming and joyful.

The stillness and softness of the snow unwinds my tensed up shoulders & body. I begin to forget the harsh cold and bitter rain. I’m suspended in softness that is serene and peaceful.

Please, stop the rain and make it snow. I’d like to fall into the snow packed ground, making angels, while grinning ear to ear, staring at the starry sky.

Let me be light, like a snowflake. I’ll slowly ride a current of wind to the surface, where I’ll gently land with all the others, blending and covering the forest floor. And in that space I’ll commune with millions of magic raindrops that have blanketed everything in our path, turning frowns into smiles that erupt often, into laughter that playfully cuts into the cold, still night. Some will glide effortlessly along our surface with sleds and skis while others will watch from frosted window panes, mesmerized by our glorious ability to transform a dismal day of rain to a masterpiece of raw beauty.

Let it snow and let me be light.

Take this rainy night and transform it into something snowy and bright.

While it falls and covers the exposed and hurting earth, let it hug the hurt in its completeness, leaving nothing untouched by it’s snowflakes that sparkle by moonlight, shimmering like diamonds.

I’m falling back into you, making angels, and catching snowflakes on my tongue. I’m forgetting that I’m no longer a child and instead twirling, eyes wide open, taking you in completely, laughing joyfully. No one is with me in this space of snow and self forgiveness.

You’ve reminded me once again with your dramatic entrance that everything can change in an instant and it can be magical and transforming. You’ll soon be gone, but I’ve taken a recharge from you. It’s another reminder to let go and be light. Twirl and laugh more often. Even if you are alone in the cold and still night.

In all the storms I’ve weathered, I embrace a snowstorm with excitement and adventure.

So, let it snow. Let it be a blizzard. Let it blanket the earth in forgiveness, melting away grief and sadness when it exits in warmth.

Welcome Winter, I hope there is a snow storm brewing. I’m waiting in joyful anticipation. Let it snow.

Please, stop the rain.

Cultivating Self Compassion: I am Enough

woman looking at sunset
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

There is something forming in my conscious that sounds familiar, but has felt foreign to me until recently. It’s a seed that is growing in size, full and impenetrable. It’s resting on the collective conscious of “what is” and longing for the wisdom and strength of what has left us. My spirit gravitates toward a space that is shared between what I have absorbed and what I have chased. This new landscape is difficult to articulate, I only know it is defined by my very own view of the world, and, I trust it.

I’ve spend many years in anguish. I didn’t feel I was enough. I was never smart enough, kind enough, talented enough, good enough, organized enough, wealthy enough, etc. There was never enough of me to feel “enough”. Every endeavor was designed to be a means to an end. It was as if every activity I engaged in had to have a value assigned to it. If I relaxed completely, letting go of counting the “inventory” of successes and failures”, I’d feel anxiety and shame for letting down my guard and not fulfilling my duty. I’ve always been driven, a perfectionist, determined to excel at the activities in which I invested time and energy. One can see quickly where this is headed. Over time, I grew deeply disappointed, depressed, and anxious.

I wanted more for my life. I expected more from people. I even expected more from the world. I was downright devastated when I awakened from the dream where I had expected those around me to be kind, honest, and authentic. I did have a few people in my life who were healthy individuals. However, I had spent most of my time in conflict with those in my life who were unable or unwilling to change. I allowed these people to suck up my time, energy, emotions, and thoughts. It was my mistake. I’m still unraveling and unpacking the last few years where the trauma of my past became intertwined with the trauma of certain loved ones. Was I indeed trying to save myself by holding on too tightly to their trauma? Again, this elusive seed that is growing within me tells me that it’s all about to change. I’m often giddy and joyful, nearly feeling free. It’s a foreign feeling as I sit in the space of so many colliding and conflicting emotions, but having the ability to process without impulsively acting. This is new for me, and I’m sure I will backslide a bit, but I like this feeling a lot. I’m going to work to maintain this.

I had a session a week ago where I was talking to my therapist about the distance I have purposely created between me and a loved one to “keep me safe” currently. This person is a relative and so it might be difficult to completely remain disengaged permanently. It is someone who has hurt me quite a bit and her lifestyle continues to concern me. My pattern has often been to confront when I am concerned. This has not benefited me as the person I am confronting does not want to change. My therapist, was pushing me a bit, stating that I could be engaged on some level if “I accepted her where she was at right now”. I quickly shared reasons why I could not do so. They were good reasons. It’s very hard engaging with this person and our relationship is quite fractured. Still yet, this “push” from my therapist of acceptance bloomed inside of me. I cannot quite articulate how so, I can only say that it was another window into a different way of existing outside the “cage” I have been inside of for years.

And so, all of this has been filling me with curiosity and even joy. It’s as if I took the pliers  and gently took off one of the steel bars of my cage.

Tonight, I sat making Christmas ornaments for my loved ones. It was an imperfect process and I realized some things were a tad off. In the past, that would have bothered me a great deal. I let it go this time. I said to myself, “I don’t have to be perfect”. I noticed the tension rising: “I should redo it, it’s not perfect”. It dawned on me how most people probably would’t even notice what I saw as “imperfect”. When did my world become so calculated and precise? That isn’t the world! I instinctively knew it was not! I know the trauma in my past created a pattern of perfectionism. I smiled at myself at the thought of finally being free of this pattern. It dawned on me rather quickly that because I had placed such high expectations on myself, I extended the same to loved ones. And often if people were unable to meet them, it was a reflection that I was “not enough”. Somehow, their inability to meet my expectations was my failure. I believe this is why I have fought so hard, at times, with these individuals. Truthfully, I should have “accepted them where they were at” and retained my dignity by not fighting or pleading for their involvement in my life. It was this realization, that I’ve had before, that has now cultivated a greater awareness. It’s as if another layer has nearly been revealed and I’m eagerly awaiting for the next chapter of my life to begin!

I believe it’s a “way of living” that I have missed out on due to trauma and my continual entrapment within it. I know it starts with me and knowing that I am “enough”. I am inherently worthy, we all are. Operating from that optic alone frees me from a lot of desperate behaviors where I was relying on others to affirm my self worth. Whoops! Not a great idea as people are often totally oblivious to your struggle and have their own full plates. And then, there is the awareness that I no longer need to listen to the voices of others either defining me or telling me who I am or not. I am accepting all of me, the imperfections, the mistakes, the mess, and the comeback. I can see all the complexity and  I embrace it. I don’t have to explain it to others. I am at a point now where despite all the messes, I’m pretty proud and impressed at the way I’ve cleaned them all up! I am learning to live more in the moment and I enjoy using all my senses as I lose myself in the experience of life.

The complexity of life, the sadness and the joy, are held simultaneously in one space in my heart. I am more level as a result and joy is finding me in many places. I’m sure I will be able to express the growing light inside much better in time. I’m glad it’s been uncovered and it is glowing brightly. It was there all along, but had been dimmed by many years where I was searching. Just thought I would try and share tonight as I continue on my journey of healing from the pain and confusion of trauma. Love and light!

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

nature animal park birds
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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.

 

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!