Having liberated my fears about family secrets and shame, I think I may be seeing a sliver of light at the end of the tunnel. Possibly it could be the beginning of a new tunnel. Writing about personal things,well I have been doing it for some time. But I have been doing it more or less about my own life, feelings. Yesterday I talked about my brother and what it has been like dealing with him taking too many pills.The aftermath of many things he has gone through and how it has affected our family. Mostly denial. I think the tide may be changing....maybe miracles are happening or being allowed to happen through this.
I spoke to him last night- he simply just wants to come home, doesn't want to take advantage of the facility he is in. The reason I am talking about this, I know many people go through this- keeping secrets only makes people feel ashamed. Shedding light on this, while unpopular- we all need a hand,whether we are the one crying out for help, or one who is trying to figure out how to help. It is a lonely, isolating place to be. We have been down this road many times with my brother. He feels better then just wants to go home now and figure it out on his own. He has the ability to "act" very normal in front of the doctors, pull it together so he can just move on down the road. Then the cycle starts over again.
This is no longer okay with me. I have stayed very removed from my family for sometime now. The crazy making - made me crazy making. I brought it home to my family every time, it hurt them. I don't have a switch to turn off my emotions, I get very involved- want to fix the hurt. It eats me up inside. I want to do anything to make my brother better. Open my parents eyes.... right out of denial. I do not have these super powers. I have tried my whole life to extreme detriment. Super enabler queen. The only thing I can do is walk away at times.
When I put boundaries on- the rage comes out of my brother, my parents. So be it. But through the years I changed and grew. This time I was finally ready, prepared to come back into the fold. I realize I had done enough work.... I finally came back the adult, no longer the child. Fifth out of sixth looking for approval. Life long battle, it has ended. I came back for a different purpose now and I know what it is.
I have been talking to my oldest sister again through all of this commotion with my brother. Real forgiveness is taking place between us, I feel it in my heart, my soul. It is no longer just pretty words between us as in the past. My middle sister and I have been working on this for sometime- it feels as though we are getting even closer through this situation with my brother.
But what I realize in talking to both of them-we are getting ready for something else as well. My dad is pretty ill. None of us talk about anything in a real way. We use joking, sarcasm, whatever we can to get through. We have lived in a void- we were not allowed any emotions so we don't know how to relate to one another. Humor is all we know.When real feelings come up, especially about our parents I don't think we know what to feel. We watch others and pretend to know what it is like to come from a loving family with a mother and father- but it is only acting.
We just don't know what to do. We rarely saw love, mostly anger and disdain for each other. Contempt, disrespect, undermining- which then translated to the siblings. Undermining is where we have the problem and none of us really trust each other. It reminds me of the show, "Survivor. One sibling tells the other info.... but they tell a better tale. Who do you now believe? That has been our reality. My parents then tell yet an even better tale when angry at one of their children. Then who do you believe. Deep down we know the truth... we always know our turn will come, there is where the real pain is. There I believe is where my brothers pain is. He is the youngest out of six. He felt left behind in the mad house. I carry guilt that I left him there.
I know this is about wrapping things up. Getting back to the union of my sisters and me, the purpose my dad. He has very little breath left in him. His oxygen is no longer working well. Today a visiting doctor is coming. He will not go to the hospital, nor has he ever been in one his entire life. He was even born at home. He has a laundry list of health problems and his time, we know.... is coming to a close. It is time to make peace. My oldest sister spoke of it last night and she is right. Every time my brother has had a relapse of some sort- it has brought us together temporarily.Maybe this time it is for another reason, the three sisters are going to get together for the first time in years soon. We can no longer put off discussions my mom can't deal with.How can I blame her? Her son and husband have been never ending needs. She can barely see, drive or has any energy. I work on forgiveness and patience everyday. I know her life has not been a happy- or easy one.
What I am learning- it is what it is. I just need to show up now when I can. Too much has happened between us. I will stay open to all possibilities. I have spent my life trying to love, please, honor them. Now I will simply be with them.... learn patience, silence, humility.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Keeping Secrets
Yesterday seemed liked one of the longest on record and saddest.
I got a message from my sister, my brother was in the hospital again- I wasn't quite sure what had happened. He called her at three in the morning sounding very incoherent. As I write this, I feel I am betraying some sick family secret I need to protect - I have done my whole life.
Obviously I have a need as a writer, a human being to relate and not stay in a cave anymore about this.
I know millions of people experience this- it is just that I have been so well trained to keep secrets.
I don't want to carry so many anymore, the load weighs too heavy. I don't know what normal is sometimes.Yesterday I felt like I was hallucinating being around my mother and brother. It is not that I don't love them, I just can't play their pretend game in life and haven't in so many years.
I picked my mom up yesterday morning to take to the hospital to see my brother. Talking about everything but what was in front of us- I was going insane. Radio gets turned up louder as she droned on and on about the nothingness of life to avoid any real feelings. I do not do well with that on the best of days.
He was in the hospital because he had taken too many pills.This is his fourth time in a hospital/rehab for similar things.( Ray and I have admitted him three) I am feeling every ounce right now, not pretending. It hurt to see him paranoid, asking me if everyone could read his thoughts. If I could read his thoughts. Talking about the transmitters in his brain. My tears flow as the brother I love so dearly was someone I didn't recognize. He looked like a homeless man, wild eyed, crazed... confused, frightened, disheveled. Not the one I knew. Where did he go? Even writing this seems inconceivable to me. How can this be, it can't be true.
Earlier in the morning when I first called my mom to ask how my brother was- my usual question, I already knew... my sister already told me. But my mothers answer as usual, "Oh, he's fine."I blew a fuse. I was so tired of hearing he was fine. Fine is not calling an ambulance at 2 am going in the front yard barefoot in your underwear -waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Fine is not coming in on Mothers Day in a suit jacket- only and your underwear on under it. Others acted like it was perfectly normal. I haven't been in a family situation in years, I was freaking out.
I love my brother. I have done everything I can to do- to get him help through the years. When there is so much denial surrounding the situation- it is a difficult to do this. I am worn down
from trying, caring, not knowing what to do, and most of all being his mommy. The letting go is the hardest part. I am about six years older than him, (ever since I was about twenty- I have been with Ray) I have felt like his parent. Getting him out of jams, so many things then we don't talk for long periods of time. This past one was in November - he went off his medication and I told him his behavior changed, he needed help. Immediately he cut me off. Boundaries aren't cool in my family. Saying how you feel can take a punishment of five years and upwards at times. I know, I have paid it with many of my siblings. I have not been a popular gal by any stretch.
I was talking to Ray about the face I show most of the time- usually smiley.
I really feel like I have been a Warrior in battle for so long and I want to lay down the gauntlet and just live my life in peace. I no longer need to prove I am strong. I know who I am- what I am capable of. Coming from this crazy making family that I have felt the need to protect- for God knows what reason. It's what we were trained to do, and trained well. Protect the sickness at all costs. Yesterday, what I heard the whole day from my mother : How sick everyone is, with illness, death, disease, hopelessness. Hope we all don't die from some weird disease that's passed down in the family. My energy level was plummeting from not being able to grab some food all day, my brothers paranoia, and my moms cheery disposition.
What I took away from it- I left this madness. I made a conscious choice many years ago to work my butt off and flee.To feel alone, frightened, not ever knowing where the road would lead- running wildly into the night, just find my way the best I knew how. I could not breathe with these limited beliefs I grew up with. This fear, anger, shut down-ness.
Now I need to know I did my best. Yesterday I showed up, I got my brother into a facility again after the Hospital. I sat with him all day and listened to my Mother drone on and on about our impending health crisis to come. Later that evening Ray and I went back and brought him clothes and essentials. He was calmer, now I need to be. It's time to let other siblings take over for awhile. I love my brother, but I need to let him do his work, and I need to do mine.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Hero
I am traveling down such a windy road today- the windy road back to memory lane. I have no idea what led me on this particular one, especially talking about my first hubby, who I have never really written about. I have not really had much to say. Today I am owning more of my past, actually started writing an outline of a book I feel like I am ready to work on. It just finally makes sense to me, writing about "year sixteen" of my life . I made some serious headway in the Coffee House where Katie works. So it seems my fingers want to go back to good old fashioned paper and pen- so be it.
To tell the story in this book, so much of my life would involve Jeff. Thirty two years ago May 31st I married him. Today I was watching "The Theresa Saldana Story" ( A Lifetime Movie) brought it all home again. It is the true story of an actress who was brutally stabbed multiple times, by a Scottish man who became obsessed with her. My hubby (at the time) was a Sparklett's water delivery man working in Hollywood- who happened to be on his delivery route near her apartment building and heard her screaming. He ran over and risking his life, subdued and stopped the brutal attack, and consequently saved her life. He became a Hero overnight which was very difficult on him. I was waitressing in Pasadena, and I had just left him about two months before.
I met him at sixteen, married at eighteen, by twenty had become a different person- I had grown up and was no longer a teenager.
He called me one afternoon and told me what happened (with the stabbing) and our lives were never the same after.We went to the hospital that same evening with a Police Escort (because of nuts who come out and follow you, so they took us in unmarked car) and were told to pretend like we were still a couple. So the lies began.The All American Couple Lie which became unbearable for me. He had a girlfriend living with him who was extremely unhappy that I was with him. It just kept snowballing into crazy making.
We attended all these functions which were lost on the twenty year old in me. I was overwhelmed, couldn't talk to my friends because although I hadn't changed, they treated me differently-from a distance- likeI had something to do with Jeff and Theresa's newfound celebrity. In reality- I would go home and cry because I felt so alone. I remember one customer that I waited on (he always sat at the counter) a "regular"- looked at me and told me you are nothing and don't ever think you are. He was an older man that used to be an actor. My mouth was just hanging open.
Jeff and I didn't talk- I cannot ever know what his life was like. He was on Larry King and every other news show. He had people coming at him from every arena wanting his attention. Then the phone calls for both of us began. He had very scary violent people calling him. I started having people calling me in the middle of the night - just breathing, then hanging up,. I had never lived by myself- so I was scared out of my mind. Jeff told me to expect it, I thought maybe he was doing it to scare me. He was angry.
One Sunday morning, as I was pouring coffee to a regular customer, I glanced at his Newspaper and to my surprise a photograph of Jeff and I, along with an article about him, are on the front page. I am looking up at him adoringly.... right on que. I was doing what I thought the good wife look would be... lovingly gazing at my hero man that I am pretending to be smitten with- yet don't even live with.
Later, a reporter from the LA Times wanted Jeff and I to sit down and do a story together- not just him. We were not getting along so great by then. I said we could do it at my apartment, which I shared with my sister.
The reporter got there early-and I finally cracked. I just didn't want to play anymore. It was one thing in the beginning to pretend like we were married for security reasons. Theresa and her hubby were also separated at the time as well. The whole thing was kind of a joke. Make it look cute for the media.
But this was my life- I had enough. She was a very cool gal as I told her the situation. Unlike some reporters, she had scruples and honored my feelings. She understood between us what was up- at that point I didn't care what BS went on, I was done. Write whatever you need to... I just am not lying anymore.
The last thing we went to together was a Victims For Victims Charity Event that Theresa Saldana had in order to raise money. It was at some cool place in Santa Monica or Downtown and the Stars were out that night.
The best part was that no one gave me the heads up on what to wear. It was a fuschia prom-type dress with poofy sleeves and big giant hoopy thing on the bottom. To top it off I had baby's breath in my hair. Everyone else is slick Hollywood Cool in black.Yep- felt right at home. I was two years out of high school, completely out of my element and Jeff didn't want to be anywhere near me by now- so angry that I had left him. Me and my big fuschia dress swished around this Event trying to be very inconspicuous.
Watching the movie (which I haven't been able to find, nor have seen in years) this afternoon on my computer, the tears came and didn't stop. I never realized or had the maturity to see what really happened to Theresa. How brutal her attack was. We visited her several times, once at the hospital then at The Motion Pictures Home for Actors ( which is no longer there.) It just all seemed like a weird drama to me. They all seemed so much older to me at the time- I just couldn't relate.
One thing I learned- I had nowhere to turn. People make decisions about you,without knowing you.
it is such a bizarre situation to be in- so isolating. I just wanted a friend to talk to, instead seemed to get my fair share of people who wanted their moment in the spotlight. I just wanted to hide and be protected for just a little while. There would be none of that... I felt raw.
Ray would come in where I was working and ask me how hero was during this time. He was with someone at the time- I never told him I was split up.
Also att the time my best friend had Jeff in her wedding- but not me- she knew we weren't together anymore. You can bet he was the "Star" of the Wedding. There were definitely some painful times through all of this. I learned the different characteristics of people - that has helped me to this day, I am grateful for that. Even the sheer "aloneness" I felt from not having support or comfort from others taught me great value in counting on myself. I became so much stronger at such a young age.
The happy ending to this story... finally one day Ray asked again how hero was.
I finally let down my guard, trusted, told the truth. No more hero. He told the truth- no more gal pal. He asked me out on our first date that day, thirty years ago this June. I wouldn't change one ounce of my life, it made me who I am, and happily married to the love of my life.
To tell the story in this book, so much of my life would involve Jeff. Thirty two years ago May 31st I married him. Today I was watching "The Theresa Saldana Story" ( A Lifetime Movie) brought it all home again. It is the true story of an actress who was brutally stabbed multiple times, by a Scottish man who became obsessed with her. My hubby (at the time) was a Sparklett's water delivery man working in Hollywood- who happened to be on his delivery route near her apartment building and heard her screaming. He ran over and risking his life, subdued and stopped the brutal attack, and consequently saved her life. He became a Hero overnight which was very difficult on him. I was waitressing in Pasadena, and I had just left him about two months before.
I met him at sixteen, married at eighteen, by twenty had become a different person- I had grown up and was no longer a teenager.
He called me one afternoon and told me what happened (with the stabbing) and our lives were never the same after.We went to the hospital that same evening with a Police Escort (because of nuts who come out and follow you, so they took us in unmarked car) and were told to pretend like we were still a couple. So the lies began.The All American Couple Lie which became unbearable for me. He had a girlfriend living with him who was extremely unhappy that I was with him. It just kept snowballing into crazy making.
We attended all these functions which were lost on the twenty year old in me. I was overwhelmed, couldn't talk to my friends because although I hadn't changed, they treated me differently-from a distance- likeI had something to do with Jeff and Theresa's newfound celebrity. In reality- I would go home and cry because I felt so alone. I remember one customer that I waited on (he always sat at the counter) a "regular"- looked at me and told me you are nothing and don't ever think you are. He was an older man that used to be an actor. My mouth was just hanging open.
Jeff and I didn't talk- I cannot ever know what his life was like. He was on Larry King and every other news show. He had people coming at him from every arena wanting his attention. Then the phone calls for both of us began. He had very scary violent people calling him. I started having people calling me in the middle of the night - just breathing, then hanging up,. I had never lived by myself- so I was scared out of my mind. Jeff told me to expect it, I thought maybe he was doing it to scare me. He was angry.
One Sunday morning, as I was pouring coffee to a regular customer, I glanced at his Newspaper and to my surprise a photograph of Jeff and I, along with an article about him, are on the front page. I am looking up at him adoringly.... right on que. I was doing what I thought the good wife look would be... lovingly gazing at my hero man that I am pretending to be smitten with- yet don't even live with.
Later, a reporter from the LA Times wanted Jeff and I to sit down and do a story together- not just him. We were not getting along so great by then. I said we could do it at my apartment, which I shared with my sister.
The reporter got there early-and I finally cracked. I just didn't want to play anymore. It was one thing in the beginning to pretend like we were married for security reasons. Theresa and her hubby were also separated at the time as well. The whole thing was kind of a joke. Make it look cute for the media.
But this was my life- I had enough. She was a very cool gal as I told her the situation. Unlike some reporters, she had scruples and honored my feelings. She understood between us what was up- at that point I didn't care what BS went on, I was done. Write whatever you need to... I just am not lying anymore.
The last thing we went to together was a Victims For Victims Charity Event that Theresa Saldana had in order to raise money. It was at some cool place in Santa Monica or Downtown and the Stars were out that night.
The best part was that no one gave me the heads up on what to wear. It was a fuschia prom-type dress with poofy sleeves and big giant hoopy thing on the bottom. To top it off I had baby's breath in my hair. Everyone else is slick Hollywood Cool in black.Yep- felt right at home. I was two years out of high school, completely out of my element and Jeff didn't want to be anywhere near me by now- so angry that I had left him. Me and my big fuschia dress swished around this Event trying to be very inconspicuous.
Watching the movie (which I haven't been able to find, nor have seen in years) this afternoon on my computer, the tears came and didn't stop. I never realized or had the maturity to see what really happened to Theresa. How brutal her attack was. We visited her several times, once at the hospital then at The Motion Pictures Home for Actors ( which is no longer there.) It just all seemed like a weird drama to me. They all seemed so much older to me at the time- I just couldn't relate.
One thing I learned- I had nowhere to turn. People make decisions about you,without knowing you.
it is such a bizarre situation to be in- so isolating. I just wanted a friend to talk to, instead seemed to get my fair share of people who wanted their moment in the spotlight. I just wanted to hide and be protected for just a little while. There would be none of that... I felt raw.
Ray would come in where I was working and ask me how hero was during this time. He was with someone at the time- I never told him I was split up.
Also att the time my best friend had Jeff in her wedding- but not me- she knew we weren't together anymore. You can bet he was the "Star" of the Wedding. There were definitely some painful times through all of this. I learned the different characteristics of people - that has helped me to this day, I am grateful for that. Even the sheer "aloneness" I felt from not having support or comfort from others taught me great value in counting on myself. I became so much stronger at such a young age.
The happy ending to this story... finally one day Ray asked again how hero was.
I finally let down my guard, trusted, told the truth. No more hero. He told the truth- no more gal pal. He asked me out on our first date that day, thirty years ago this June. I wouldn't change one ounce of my life, it made me who I am, and happily married to the love of my life.
Monday, May 21, 2012
They're Just Not That Into You
They're Just Not That Into You
Those words are definitely not for just the dating crowd! I am thinking of all the friendships I have had- realizing when one party is just not into the other. It can be a very slow death. One that I have been in lately- and is definitely in that category. The thing about situations like this which happen to all of us at one time or another- we can learn from them, ignore what has happened and just move on business as usual, choose to get very offended, ( let's face it- who hasn't?) the options are never ending.
The friendship - is now more that I think about it, an acquaintance from days of past. The days of youth-dom. I think we put more stock into this time because our emotions get so riled up.We may remember things that mean something sweet from the past, the other person may have no memory whatsoever, or we could be the clueless one with someone else's tender emotions.
What conclusion I came to this week, I suppose today in particular by putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. Pulling back enough to look at myself and say- whoa girl, where have you gone? This person from your past gave less and less- as you tried to hang in there, not knowing their personality of present- all these years later. Something hit me time and time again in my gut- this feels like I am trying way the hell too hard. I felt like I was giving away myself, for what? Waking up felt really good.
Some friendships were never meant for more than, "How's the weather". Others blossom into the most beautiful lifelong treasures. We never know where things will land. It is always interesting to see the effect someone from our past has on our hearts. How they touch us- irritate us, push us, shake us up, make us think, help us grow. Fill our hearts with love, heartache, passion, so many emotions that mingle with the adult of today. It is always an interesting and sometimes uncomfortable dance until you learn the steps. Accepting the gifts that come with it.
I learned with this one, about myself more than anything which I am so grateful. I learned patience in hanging in there even though I knew long ago this person just wasn't into me. I wanted to believe in the sweetness of my past- perhaps our past that I wasn't ready to let go of. At times I felt somewhat undignified from such little response from this person. But ultimately, it was okay. It was always this persons choice to cut bait, mine as well- we are both adults. Maybe neither were ready for our own reasons, control, power, fear, need for forgiveness, simple sweetness of the past. Who knows and it really doesn't matter anymore. What I realize is there is always a tinge of pain when it happens to you-when someone is just not into you. I have done my fair share and I guess it was my turn for the wheel of life to spin round in my direction.
Change did come - stepping out of my Princess flats - into my Queen heels. Owning my power knowing, being willing to feel my feelings, all of them and move on. Wishing my friend well- glad they have been a part my of life- for me to stretch, learn, grow. From the past to present day- thank you.
Those words are definitely not for just the dating crowd! I am thinking of all the friendships I have had- realizing when one party is just not into the other. It can be a very slow death. One that I have been in lately- and is definitely in that category. The thing about situations like this which happen to all of us at one time or another- we can learn from them, ignore what has happened and just move on business as usual, choose to get very offended, ( let's face it- who hasn't?) the options are never ending.
The friendship - is now more that I think about it, an acquaintance from days of past. The days of youth-dom. I think we put more stock into this time because our emotions get so riled up.We may remember things that mean something sweet from the past, the other person may have no memory whatsoever, or we could be the clueless one with someone else's tender emotions.
What conclusion I came to this week, I suppose today in particular by putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. Pulling back enough to look at myself and say- whoa girl, where have you gone? This person from your past gave less and less- as you tried to hang in there, not knowing their personality of present- all these years later. Something hit me time and time again in my gut- this feels like I am trying way the hell too hard. I felt like I was giving away myself, for what? Waking up felt really good.
Some friendships were never meant for more than, "How's the weather". Others blossom into the most beautiful lifelong treasures. We never know where things will land. It is always interesting to see the effect someone from our past has on our hearts. How they touch us- irritate us, push us, shake us up, make us think, help us grow. Fill our hearts with love, heartache, passion, so many emotions that mingle with the adult of today. It is always an interesting and sometimes uncomfortable dance until you learn the steps. Accepting the gifts that come with it.
I learned with this one, about myself more than anything which I am so grateful. I learned patience in hanging in there even though I knew long ago this person just wasn't into me. I wanted to believe in the sweetness of my past- perhaps our past that I wasn't ready to let go of. At times I felt somewhat undignified from such little response from this person. But ultimately, it was okay. It was always this persons choice to cut bait, mine as well- we are both adults. Maybe neither were ready for our own reasons, control, power, fear, need for forgiveness, simple sweetness of the past. Who knows and it really doesn't matter anymore. What I realize is there is always a tinge of pain when it happens to you-when someone is just not into you. I have done my fair share and I guess it was my turn for the wheel of life to spin round in my direction.
Change did come - stepping out of my Princess flats - into my Queen heels. Owning my power knowing, being willing to feel my feelings, all of them and move on. Wishing my friend well- glad they have been a part my of life- for me to stretch, learn, grow. From the past to present day- thank you.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
The Road To El Dorado
Walking into our home last night felt like the most amazing thing, after a long day on the road and then the airport. This week away has seemed like a year mainly because I have shed so much skin.
I feel shot out of a cannon this morning, disoriented in a way. I slept more last night than I have all week. I am wrapped in a cocoon of love. I never realized until now- how truly grateful I am to be in this place in my life.
I went to Santa Fe, The Road to El Dorado literally- to meet with a man who has been doing meditation/healing work with me. Simply put- letting go of the past. Things that were getting in my way, holding me back. To get to his home, I had to overcome my fears of driving way the hell out in the middle of the New Mexico desert by myself. That scared me to no end. Santa Fe in itself is a very confusing town to navigate, then throw in being very bad at directions- and having all your fears come up and time to face them.
Cool mix.
The work I did with this man I have to say was intense to say the least. For the past thirty years I have been working on myself, but that was stepping stones upon arriving at his door. I fought like a wild banshee to lay down the gauntlet of my ego. It was probably one of the toughest things I have ever experienced.
Being away from home, altitude sickness, fears coming up like I can't tell you- and time to face the skeletons in my closet. No excuses, just do it.
We worked two hours at a time each day- I never have cried so solidly, mourned so much loss - I didn't know was in my body. He dug out things that were from so far back. Over and over throughout the years I had been told to let go of my story. The hurts and pains we repeat over and over again.
The next person we retell the infection to- emblazoned brighter, more lavish, details crisper each time.
Please understand my pain, don't let me be alone in my agony. I don't know where to put this massive weight- burden.
This week, I finally connected with laying down the story. The greatest, most dramatic story of my life. Cinematic version: The Story of Feeling Unloved. Beginning with my mother. I let it go after fifty years - I finally buried it, laid it to rest. I really was sad, terrified, frightened. Who would I be without my story with feelings of rejection, unwanted, unloved by my mother? I was more terrified of this than anything.
Just letting in the love in that I am worthy of, allowing myself to be loved- just for me.
Of course every challenge came up this week to shake me to my core, have me run and hide and say I can't do this. I wanted to give up- be rescued. Believe me. But I knew it was time for me to show up on that beautiful white horse and rescue me. That I was worth it. If I am the damsel in distress, I will show up. If I am a child frightened huddled in the corner- I will show up. Strong, proud , brave- again, I will show up applauding myself for the courage it took- instead of berating myself by saying..."that was nothing loser."
This week is the week of acknowledging- showing up for myself. Crossing the finish line.
It feels like I tore down it all so I can begin anew. It is Spring. The rebuilding, regeneration, renewal process begins. Was it hellacious bootcamp. Beyond. Would I do it again- in a second.
I feel shot out of a cannon this morning, disoriented in a way. I slept more last night than I have all week. I am wrapped in a cocoon of love. I never realized until now- how truly grateful I am to be in this place in my life.
I went to Santa Fe, The Road to El Dorado literally- to meet with a man who has been doing meditation/healing work with me. Simply put- letting go of the past. Things that were getting in my way, holding me back. To get to his home, I had to overcome my fears of driving way the hell out in the middle of the New Mexico desert by myself. That scared me to no end. Santa Fe in itself is a very confusing town to navigate, then throw in being very bad at directions- and having all your fears come up and time to face them.
Cool mix.
The work I did with this man I have to say was intense to say the least. For the past thirty years I have been working on myself, but that was stepping stones upon arriving at his door. I fought like a wild banshee to lay down the gauntlet of my ego. It was probably one of the toughest things I have ever experienced.
Being away from home, altitude sickness, fears coming up like I can't tell you- and time to face the skeletons in my closet. No excuses, just do it.
We worked two hours at a time each day- I never have cried so solidly, mourned so much loss - I didn't know was in my body. He dug out things that were from so far back. Over and over throughout the years I had been told to let go of my story. The hurts and pains we repeat over and over again.
The next person we retell the infection to- emblazoned brighter, more lavish, details crisper each time.
Please understand my pain, don't let me be alone in my agony. I don't know where to put this massive weight- burden.
This week, I finally connected with laying down the story. The greatest, most dramatic story of my life. Cinematic version: The Story of Feeling Unloved. Beginning with my mother. I let it go after fifty years - I finally buried it, laid it to rest. I really was sad, terrified, frightened. Who would I be without my story with feelings of rejection, unwanted, unloved by my mother? I was more terrified of this than anything.
Just letting in the love in that I am worthy of, allowing myself to be loved- just for me.
Of course every challenge came up this week to shake me to my core, have me run and hide and say I can't do this. I wanted to give up- be rescued. Believe me. But I knew it was time for me to show up on that beautiful white horse and rescue me. That I was worth it. If I am the damsel in distress, I will show up. If I am a child frightened huddled in the corner- I will show up. Strong, proud , brave- again, I will show up applauding myself for the courage it took- instead of berating myself by saying..."that was nothing loser."
This week is the week of acknowledging- showing up for myself. Crossing the finish line.
It feels like I tore down it all so I can begin anew. It is Spring. The rebuilding, regeneration, renewal process begins. Was it hellacious bootcamp. Beyond. Would I do it again- in a second.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Facing My Fears
It is interesting when ready to face our fears, the situations we will put ourselves in, challenge ourselves to see what we can handle. How far we have come in our own lives. Everyone has their own marks- one persons frightening event is a walk in the park to the next. Really who is to know or judge?
I learned for myself what hidden ghosts lurked in my closet the past few days. I thought myself to be fairly independent. But the ghosts of the past reared their frightened little heads- they were ready to be revealed. Finally they wanted to come out of the dark. I am writing this from a hotel room in Santa Fe, New Mexico right now. It is a beautiful sunny day outside, and tomorrow I will be once again there. But for today, I needed to learn some valuable lessons. Letting go.
I have had great anxiety about this trip for days. Katie and I came together for some mother - daughter bonding time, also for another reason. I have been working with someone who has been a very insightful teacher to me, especially with meditation. I wanted to come in person instead of just doing work over the phone, and through the meditation CD's.
I didn't realize the angst it would bring up coming, being the adult. It wasn't being the adult as much as finally doing something solely for me. It was one thing to tag along on Ray's trips- take care of my family or anyone who has needed me. That has been my life's mission. To help whoever has needed my help. Now apparently I needed my help. I listened to my voice- from a mere couple of weeks ago.You need to go to Santa Fe now. Just for me - just because, that was a hard one for me to justify.
My anxiety level rose through the roof, the child in me was losing it. The night before I left, I was weeping like an inconsolable child, clinging to my husband. On the way to the airport, as I tightly gripped his hand... tears endlessly streaming, I began to understand. This was similar to me going off to College.When I left home at sixteen, full of anger- head full of steam and fully detached from any real emotions, I was able to just leave. No one saying goodbye, we'll miss you. It was just,"I didn't know your phone number." Really, that was the best you could manage?
I was finally feeling what it was like- now with love to go off into the world. I was terrified. I finally allowed myself to reconnect to that wounded young girl.
The biggest terror today- when I was driving to the house I needed to get to from my hotel. It was out in the desert, and I had another melt down. I called Ray- he has a photographic memory, and as he was sitting in a traffic jam in LA, talked me through it. He knows this side of me, and calmly told me which freeway to take. It seemed so silly that I was so upset, but I realized never having any guidance growing up, it was all coming back when I was now forcing myself to do it on my own. This place was way out there, in the middle of nowhere.
By the time I got back to my hotel, the headache I had from last night had increased. Something wasn't feeling quite right, and by this point, very little was making sense. My vision had been slightly blurry for hours, but I am good at ignoring things. I was driving into town, and I knew I was going down for the count. I called Katie ( she was shopping nearby) and told her I needed help. My arms and legs were getting tingly, I told her I would meet her back at the hotel. I could not figure out how I was going to get back to the hotel, nothing made sense anymore. Somehow I got there - told the girl at the front desk I needed help, and she called an ambulance. I didn't want one- but I didn't know what to do.
I felt so out of control, ridiculous, but felt like I was going to pass out. Last night we had dinner with a friend of Ray's - so I had Katie call him. I had such a hard time letting people help me, felt so embarrassed. Everyone was so kind, so helpful. Altitude sickness is what the diagnosis was. Never had it before- combined with not sleeping for several days and so much anxiety. It hit me hard.
It was all about letting go, trusting I was worth it. My worst fears were being away from home and something happening. Well I was, and it did. Guess what? I was loved, taken care of- just because. I am so good at doing the taking care of. I love it- makes sense to me. Time to let go.
Let the real love in- the all the way through to the core stuff happen. Ask for help when I need it- even and especially when I am scared and cry like a baby. It makes me stronger and able to love more fully. It opens my heart. Letting go of fear, pain, the stuff that is pushed so far down we didn't even know it existed. That is what this trip has been about.
Tomorrow will be the day to explore the City. I will go to the oldest church in the country, and many museums with Katie. Music and dinner. Life.
My daughter took over and was mother to me today. I couldn't see straight. I was humbled by her grace and love. I am learning- to let the love in.
I learned for myself what hidden ghosts lurked in my closet the past few days. I thought myself to be fairly independent. But the ghosts of the past reared their frightened little heads- they were ready to be revealed. Finally they wanted to come out of the dark. I am writing this from a hotel room in Santa Fe, New Mexico right now. It is a beautiful sunny day outside, and tomorrow I will be once again there. But for today, I needed to learn some valuable lessons. Letting go.
I have had great anxiety about this trip for days. Katie and I came together for some mother - daughter bonding time, also for another reason. I have been working with someone who has been a very insightful teacher to me, especially with meditation. I wanted to come in person instead of just doing work over the phone, and through the meditation CD's.
I didn't realize the angst it would bring up coming, being the adult. It wasn't being the adult as much as finally doing something solely for me. It was one thing to tag along on Ray's trips- take care of my family or anyone who has needed me. That has been my life's mission. To help whoever has needed my help. Now apparently I needed my help. I listened to my voice- from a mere couple of weeks ago.You need to go to Santa Fe now. Just for me - just because, that was a hard one for me to justify.
My anxiety level rose through the roof, the child in me was losing it. The night before I left, I was weeping like an inconsolable child, clinging to my husband. On the way to the airport, as I tightly gripped his hand... tears endlessly streaming, I began to understand. This was similar to me going off to College.When I left home at sixteen, full of anger- head full of steam and fully detached from any real emotions, I was able to just leave. No one saying goodbye, we'll miss you. It was just,"I didn't know your phone number." Really, that was the best you could manage?
I was finally feeling what it was like- now with love to go off into the world. I was terrified. I finally allowed myself to reconnect to that wounded young girl.
The biggest terror today- when I was driving to the house I needed to get to from my hotel. It was out in the desert, and I had another melt down. I called Ray- he has a photographic memory, and as he was sitting in a traffic jam in LA, talked me through it. He knows this side of me, and calmly told me which freeway to take. It seemed so silly that I was so upset, but I realized never having any guidance growing up, it was all coming back when I was now forcing myself to do it on my own. This place was way out there, in the middle of nowhere.
By the time I got back to my hotel, the headache I had from last night had increased. Something wasn't feeling quite right, and by this point, very little was making sense. My vision had been slightly blurry for hours, but I am good at ignoring things. I was driving into town, and I knew I was going down for the count. I called Katie ( she was shopping nearby) and told her I needed help. My arms and legs were getting tingly, I told her I would meet her back at the hotel. I could not figure out how I was going to get back to the hotel, nothing made sense anymore. Somehow I got there - told the girl at the front desk I needed help, and she called an ambulance. I didn't want one- but I didn't know what to do.
I felt so out of control, ridiculous, but felt like I was going to pass out. Last night we had dinner with a friend of Ray's - so I had Katie call him. I had such a hard time letting people help me, felt so embarrassed. Everyone was so kind, so helpful. Altitude sickness is what the diagnosis was. Never had it before- combined with not sleeping for several days and so much anxiety. It hit me hard.
It was all about letting go, trusting I was worth it. My worst fears were being away from home and something happening. Well I was, and it did. Guess what? I was loved, taken care of- just because. I am so good at doing the taking care of. I love it- makes sense to me. Time to let go.
Let the real love in- the all the way through to the core stuff happen. Ask for help when I need it- even and especially when I am scared and cry like a baby. It makes me stronger and able to love more fully. It opens my heart. Letting go of fear, pain, the stuff that is pushed so far down we didn't even know it existed. That is what this trip has been about.
Tomorrow will be the day to explore the City. I will go to the oldest church in the country, and many museums with Katie. Music and dinner. Life.
My daughter took over and was mother to me today. I couldn't see straight. I was humbled by her grace and love. I am learning- to let the love in.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)