Processing?

I don't really know how to process my current emotions. I seem to be at a loss for words, and I suspect it's a combination of lingering depression, recent painful realizations, covid burnout, holiday stress, and just everything existing under a shadow of overwhelming "blah." 

I used to have dreams. Unique to me. But now... now my siblings are living out those dreams, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. I have expressed nothing but joy at their successes, and pride in light of their accomplishments. But I also feel incredibly sad, disappointed in myself, and that pang of grief over the loss of careers I dreamed of and couldn't maintain. I feel overwhelmingly guilty that I don't feel only the joy and pride for them. That I'm sulking internally that they both took on major portions of some pretty significant dreams of mine. 

So I feel a little... off. I'm not sure where to put this. 

A couple weeks ago, I watched an IG blurb from Glennon Doyle where she answered the question "how do I know if I'm a writer?" She talked about her first AA Meeting, and someone asking a similar question. "How do I know I'm an alcoholic?" Glennon looked around that church basement and thought "you're at an AA meeting, how much more validation do you need?" She applied the same thought to being a writer. "If you're writing, you're a writer..."

After I watched her speak, I looked over my blog and shook my head. I'm not a writer. I thought maybe I could be, and blamed not having a proper laptop on my lack of blog posts. Then I got one and still wasn't writing... so... I'm not a writer. I'm not a lot of things anymore. I'm not a massage therapist. I'm not an artist. I'm not a horseback rider. I'm not a small business owner. I'm not any of the things I dreamed I wanted to be. I'm 40, and I no longer know what I want to be when I grow up. 

I don't know what to do next. 

Heavy

 Im finding it harder and harder to keep up my motivation and optimism. Covid numbers continue to climb, communities continue to remain so ugly towards each other, and I grow more and more anxious going into work. I need money, but things are just getting incredibly hard. My patience is low, my temper hot, and I'm feeling like a caged animal. The courts remain closed to in person filings, and family court is currently not hearing any cases. Unless its a domestic violence issue, and those are being handled strictly by email only. 

I feel like I'm trying to tread water, but Im running out of energy and there's so little air. I opted to keep the kids virtual, and in light of recent cases, I think I made the best decision. But its still hard. I feel like I'm running out of options. 

I have this near constant ache in my chest. It gets worse at times and it catches my breath. It eventually subsides, but I know its anxiety based. I'm too afraid to tell anyone, but I'm on the verge of tears most of the time. I feel the safest and most at ease with J, but I can't just live with him, as much as I wish I could. I want to. We will get there, but legally NOW is not the right time. 

Fuck. 

A long day

 This morning started with my first covid test. At work we had a patient come in while awaiting covid test results... she found out she was positive. So me and my coworkers were considered "direct contact" risk, and had to take a test. The test itself wasn't so bad. 

The results of the rapid test were negative, but I have to return in 5 days for a secondary test. 

It was emotional and overwhelming. 

Then my aunt died. I knew she had had a massive stroke and was unresponsive, but a death is never easy. The family has decided against a funeral or memorial, so Im not really sure what to do with my mounting grief. There just seems to be so much of it. 

Oh, and my sons fish died. Im not sure why, but it wasn't pretty and it was just the straw that broke the camels back. I haven't been able to cry today, and I don't know when I will, but today just felt so... heavy. 

Here is Jack the fish from just a few days ago. Alive and well and happily playing in a flowy plant.

The Gift of Tears

 I attended a funeral this morning from the comfort of my bed, then from the couch when I was afraid my sniffling would wake people up. 

These are bizarre times we live in. 

The rabbi was the same officiant that oversaw my friends funeral last year. As soon as she started to sing, I recognized her voice and the tears started. 

They haven't stopped. 

I think I'm having a collective grieving moment. I'm grieving my lost friends, my lost bonus parents, my lost marriage, my lost faith, and my lost connection to people as a whole. I felt compelled to write when I started, and now I just want to snuggle on the couch, sip my hot coffee, and look out the window at the crisp fall morning. 

Its been such a weird year.

Took Flight

2 weeks ago I mailed my contribution to my sisters Cranes for Community Healing project. 300 cranes. 300 cranes that were thoughtfully and carefully folded by myself and a couple contributions by my kids, J, and his daughter. I strung them on thread and carefully packed them in a box. Off to Denver they flew!

I have not stopped folding cranes. 

I am working on the next 1,000 that I intend to give as a gift. Granted I've slowed down considerably (I was folding 20+ a day) but I still fold a couple a day. They keep me grounded. An outlet for stress. 

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I return to work on Monday. First time back since March. To say I'm concerned and nervous is an understatement. I feel completely sick to my stomach. I'm taking my rescue remedy, but I'm having trouble sleeping on the couch. I cant help but feel like this isn't the right time for me to return. But I also feel like I dont have a choice. 

Fireworks

I dislike fireworks. The sound of them startles me in my bones and they have always made me anxious. Uncomfortable. After my diagnosis of PTSD, it seemed to get worse. Much worse, actually. I didnt want anyone to know, so I'd take a bunch of rescue remedy and pretend I was fine.

No problem. No big deal. Haha, isnt it funny the way Mummy jumps at the big ones? 

I've been working on being my most authentic self. Of voicing my discomforts. Voicing my dislikes. And wouldn't you know it, I'm answered with supportive options. I was invited to go to some fireworks. There was no pressure, no guilt. I was extended a gentle invitation and I took it. There was no shaming or teasing when I flinched, just a warm steadying hand placed on my knee, or holding my hand. 

It was a new experience and I enjoyed myself. The fireworks were so pretty. I'm growing to like the things that previously made me so uncomfortable. 

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I was looking back at my previous posts from 2 years ago. This is around the anniversary of when I was unceremoniously dumped and a new "in a relationship" status was added to Facebook - same day. I was so hurt. So angry. I wanted to know when it would be my turn to be the first choice. 

It's now. I'm the first choice. 

And its glorious. 

Kinda like fireworks.

Folding Paper

Before, I was baking bread. Drawing intention and focus in to process frustration and helplessness over being grounded and trapped in Covid19. 

Then George Floyd was murdered and I was overwhelmed with a new set of emotions. I didnt know what to do, but I knew asking my Black friends how I could help was not the way to go. They didnt break the system - it sure as hell isnt their responsibility to educate me on how to fix it! So I read. I listened. I started to address how I felt in my own safe spaces. 

I made the mistake of telling D that I was mulling over how to best use my white privilege to amplify BIPOC's voices that are often ignored. He scoffed. Literally. "White privilege? That doesnt really exist!" Says the white man who grew up in an affluent family and neighborhood. My jaw dropped. I was shocked. He rolled his eyes at me and dismissed the conversation. 

I should have said something, but in the moment my heart was paralyzed with overwhelming sadness. In that moment I realized that I barely even knew this man anymore, and I was quickly realizing that I no longer wanted to know him. I dont want him pulling the wool of white privilege, of white supremacy, over my childrens eyes. I was literally stupefied. 

I had been wrestling with this internally when my mother asked me if I wanted to help my sister fold origami cranes for "some project the kids are working on." Sure. I can fold cranes. 

But then I saw my sisters post on fb - her heart and soul poured out publicly about the peace crane project that SHE was spearheading. She wrote with raw vulnerability, passion, and with such hope that it was infectious. Its not about folding paper, it's about the meditation and release of creation - of finding peace and healing in the act. I was moved. 

In my excitement, I shared my sisters words and vision with D.  He said nothing. Absolutely nothing. So I stopped sharing my thoughts. 

Last night I reached my boiling point. I went over to J's and vented everything I had been feeling. I ranged. I sobbed. I let everything out in a blubbery, snotty, blurry mess... and he just held my hand. He held me after and just let me cry. I felt so much better. I shared my sisters project with him and he listened. Asked a few questions. Found the concept interesting. 

Today I started folding cranes. I invited the kids to join me. I folded every piece of origami paper I had. The kids excitedly told their father that they had folded origami cranes today. "Oh." Was all he said. 

Oh.

I mentioned to J only that I had started folding cranes. Nothing of the other interaction. "You should bring some paper over. Show me how."

Show me how.

I already knew this man was "my people." My Abby Wambach. Someone who knows me, sees me, understands me. The simple act of expressing interest made me burst into tears. He understands that I have been moved by this project, and he wants me to share it with him. 

So now I fold paper. 

I fold paper and nurture healing and growth and vulnerability and learning with the people I love. 

Heart Aches

I am feeling so overwhelmed with the world. On the one hand I have people harping about how the Corona virus is a hoax, that we are all sheep, people who don't agree are idiots, and there is so much hate. On the other there are people who are terrified to go back into the world and risk exposure - calling the other side heartless and selfish and stupid and a slew of other hate-filled names.

There is no compassion. No understanding. No listening. No love.

Then my social media outlets were flooded with images and video's of an unarmed man slowly being murdered by the police in Minneapolis. The conversation then shifts to how white people can be the best allies in the Black Lives Matter movement, and I'm absolutely frozen emotionally. There are so many keyboard warriors who are speaking out and standing up and I am so grateful to those individuals. I am very aware of my white privilege, and now I see so many people voicing their outrage - rightfully so - but I also feel exceptionally burned out emotionally and know what I am not being the best ally I can be by staying relatively quiet. I am letting down my black brothers and sisters by not taking up the banner and joining the front line of protest... but I know in my heart of hearts that I am not capable in this moment.

I have never been a banner carrier. That is not my strength.

I've read so many articles and posts and stories about how I need to support and honor movements. Many say that as white people we need to sit down and shut up and listen to what POC activists and leaders have to say. Then I read that by keeping quiet, I am supporting racism. "White silence is not supportive. White silence is violence. White silence is not neutral ground. Please do not stay silent."

I don't know what is the right thing to do. I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't know how to offer support and love and compassion beyond what I am already doing in my everyday life. I don't want to support violence by keeping silent. I also don't want to bite off more than I can emotionally handle and chew in order to "prove" that I am an ally.

I don't have a social media platform. I don't have a large reach. So instead I continue to do my best to gently love my fellow humans. I continue to raise aware and sensitive little people who understand that not everyone has the same rights and privileges that they do - and how we can do better.

We can do better. We can BE better.

All Over the Place

I have so many thoughts jumbled up in my brain right now. I wanted to dedicate separate posts to each event, as they are individually significant, but my brain is too scattered, and my ability to privately write things out fully is limited.

It's only Wednesday, but the last 5 days has felt like an eternity.

It started off with Saturday night. I was curled up in the arms of of my love (that's a whole other post... I'll get to it) and we were just chatting about nothing. We somehow got on the topic of phone technology and the advent of camera phones. The topic of my rape in college came up and I told the story. Nothing other than just how it happened. They gave me a hug and we both got quiet. I was starting to cave in on myself, thinking about it and they gently asked "Do you like to travel? What is your favorite city or destination?" It snapped me right out of it. I chatted about Rome and Stonehenge and Greece and all kinds of ancient ruins... They held me so tight from behind and buried their face in my neck as they listened to me talk - held me while I came back into myself. They recognized that I was going under, drowning in my own memories and they threw me a lifeline. I am so incredibly grateful to have someone in my life who sees me. Gets me. And holds me gently as I come back up for air.

________

Last night a friend of mines mother succumbed to coronavirus. He himself is still in the hospital, trying to recover. My heart breaks for him and his family. He has a long road ahead of him in recovery, and I pray that the loss of his mother does not bring his own recovery to a halt. He has overcome so much in the last 2 years, yet I'm afraid for him.

________

I've been working since January to get things squared away with our health insurance. I'm frustrated and exhausted and just burned out with being the only "grown up" that has to handle the grown up things. We are on the verge of losing our coverage yet again, and I seem to be the only person who can fix it. I'm out of energy. I'm so spent in regards to having to be the only one in charge of the "hard" things that I'm running out of patience. I can't hold D's hand while he files for unemployment. No one was there to walk me through it when I applied. I've asked him to help or participate - be involved in the health insurance process. I asked him to help fund the insurance a little, but he has declined to do that, since my job was paying an allowance towards insurance premiums. Why offer to help pay when I can just take care of it for him? My frustration came to a head today and I attempted to go upstairs for a little privacy to make some phone calls into the state and the insurance marketplace - and this is when he decides he has to be upstairs too, folding laundry. There just isn't ANYWHERE in this house that I can have any privacy.

On a walk the other day with Gwen, we were talking about our dream houses. She said she wanted to live in a house big enough for me to have my own space. "I don't like that you have to sleep on the couch, and that you don't have anywhere to call your own space. I want that for you in our dream house."

She knows the way things currently are is not the way they should or could be.

_________

I have more to say, but I'm on the verge of tears again, and I keep struggling to keep back the tears. I'm afraid if I let them start, I won't be able to stop for a long time. Maybe I need a good cry? But now just isn't the right time. I don't feel comfortable enough or safe enough to cry in front of the kids or their father.

Untamed

I recently finished reading Glennon Doyle's Untamed. To say it was moving is such an understatement. I've read plenty of "I am woman, hear me roar" self help books, but this one felt... different. My reaction was different. More intense. More aware. More open to ideas of how to best move forward with changing the dynamic of my family - and having it all be okay in the end. 

"When a woman finally learns that pleasing the world is impossible, she becomes free to learn how to please herself."
"The truest, most beautiful life never promises to be an easy one. We need to let go of the lie that it's supposed to be."
"The building of the true and beautiful means the destruction of the good enough. Rebirth means death."
"I guess women have to almost die before we give ourselves permission to live how we want."
"What is better: uncomfortable truth or comfortable lies? Every truth is a kindness, even if it makes others uncomfortable. Every untruth is unkindness, even if it makes others comfortable."
"So I must live and tell my truth. Folks will come around or quit coming around. Either way: lovely."

These are just some of the words that moved me in this book.

I too must live and tell my truth. I've taken small steps. I've taken big steps. But I have a huge leap to make and I can't wait any longer. Well, I sorta have to with the courts all being closed, but everything is ready. The paperwork. My heart. My courage. I know exactly where I want my story to go - and I know how to get there.

Useful Tools!

So my laptop died. Months ago. Any blogging or updates I have done have all been completed on my phone, which is a pain in the ass! So I bought myself a birthday present. An adorable little Samsung Chromebook 3. I have been bursting at the seams with wanting to write, but just didn't have a comfortable way to get it done!

I am so excited!

For now I will finish getting it set up and will be back shortly with more to say!!

Baking Bread

Who could have foreseen how different life would be in one month? Covid19 has derailed the whole worlds plans for the foreseeable future. Michigan is being hit particularly hard, and I'm finding myself hesitant to go on social media - fearful of who is no longer with us... tired of the finger pointing and blame game of politics. Everyone is on edge and its overwhelming to bare witness to the collective fear of the whole world.

So I bake bread.

I focus all my energy into the measuring, the mixing, and the baking. I wrap myself in the warmth and aroma of fresh bread, and find comfort in something so easy and basic.

I'm not making fancy artisan breads. I've mostly been making rolls. That way I'm not inhaling the end product in one sitting. Spreading it out over a couple days. Just yeast rolls and sour dough rolls. Keeping it simple.

I've been cooking a lot lately too. Most of the meals, actually. I'd forgotten how much I used to love to cook. I still hate the dishes, and am now the main person to do those too.

I'm trying to keep my frustration with my living situation under control. The more time I'm forced to be in close proximity to my spouse, the more I am bryond 100% sure that I am making the right decision pursuing the divorce of our marriage. We are trapped under the same roof and I am done. I'm not angry or spiteful, I'm just done. And that's okay. I suspect there will be lots of people who are going to pursue divorce after being quarantined with their spouses.

So I bake bread.

I take my frustration out on the punching and kneading. I handle the dough in my hands and work it over. I transform my frustration into something useful and constructive. I have something to show for it in the end. It lowers my blood pressure- which has been pretty high lately.

I'm taking inventory in what keeps me calm, what helps take the edge off my anxiety, and who shows up to check in on my heart. I'm taking things one day at a time, and I'm trying to cherish the extra time with my children.

Perhaps I'll spend more time writing too.

Calm Before the Storm

I'm prepping documents, starting to pack away personal items, and have some funds stashed away. I have a short term custody AND living arrangement in mind. I have a long term custody AND living arrangement in mind. I also have an incredibly thoughtful and compassionate resource who has been through this before: both as a parent and as a child. He is very knowledgeable about how to move through these things while keeping communication clear, feelings validated, and encouraging flexibility.

He is INCREDIBLE.

Jesus I am so blessed.



I deserve this.

2020, End of January Already??

The new year is off to a running start and I already find myself trying to play catch up. Sometimes I really dont understand where the time goes!

Heres a quick recap thus far:

I love my job. Still! Its fulfilling and rewarding work, and my bosses and coworkers arent assholes. I am proud of the work I do.

I have found legal counsel that is within my budget to FINALLY make some headway on getting out of my current situation. I'm scared, but I am not alone. Everything will be okay.

I've been starting to have better communication with my parents. My mother and I are doing better about discussing boundaries, and what works for BOTH of us.

I've fallen in love. More on that another time, but I can say without hesitation or doubt that I have absolutely found my person. I am seen. I am loved.