Tag: #curveballs

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Singing the blues about ex partners that refuse to move on.

I’m extremely moody today. This is your warning. And even as I write this I am telling myself “shouldn’t this be in a journal Christina and not a blog”, nobody wants to see some unfinished drivel centered around your emotions. Of course the meanest possible way I could take the light and love bestowed upon me by other light writers. I’ve always been good at continuing where “they” left off.

The skies aren’t all dark today. In fact externally yesterdays storm and rain broke the humidity streak. It’s clear blue skies and thin and gentle warm air. The perfect weather for a back yard bbq wedding. My wife’s twin sister is getting married. And despite all the confusion around setting it up. How casual to be? Etc. I truly think a good time will be had by all.

We had our second negative pregnancy test this am. Yes we did what is always advised against and tested a few days early. Because we still don’t know. This is a learning process for us. We are no experts, and definitely not immune to human excitement, curiosity, and premature anything. Because logic no matter how necessary does not always win out over emotion. At best a good balance can be hoped for. But nothing can prepare you for something like this. The day we are supposed to test is the 9th, so we wait until then for either a big twist (a positive), or a confirmation of what is already expected. Knowing full well we have no control. Update: she got her period today, of all days. We will be onto round 2 of IUI.

I don’t know about anyone else, but when strong emotions are present and anything feels very big, it always seems to invite some unwanted things with it. Is this accidental? Intentional? Meant to keep things in perspective? I don’t know.

There was a convening of my angry ex club yesterday. My ex-husband, and more importantly the father of my children is the president. This one included my son, which made it feel extra uncomfortable. I try and stay enlightened and mature about the whole thing. To ask myself if something does come up for me: why it is there and what is it telling me I need to work on. I try to use a lens of compassion. And when all else fails…

I walk. The best antidote for that nervous energy. The stuff where you feel your insides are twisting and nauseated. Where you feel the emotions taking hold, and that you may blow your top at any moment. And usually at the wrong people and at the wrong time. The fallout from this has been enough for me to sit on feelings, when everything in me wants to explode. Instead I walk and I talk to a trusted friend who has known me for years. Headphones and sneakers, beating my frustrations into the pavement.

I write. The second step in my process of unearthing negative emotions and seeking catharsis. Needing that deeper understanding of self always. Needing not to land on an unfavorable conclusion, even under these circumstances.

Something about three people who have known me intimately, (and yet still processed me through their lens and world view), all hanging out together makes my skin crawl. Three victims all united by their abuse playing together with glee.

And all the “shoulds in life. I should be so enlightened and focused on my own happiness that it shouldn’t even bother me. Why should it feel like such an invasion? My mind fights back against worrying what scorned exes think of me and why. Is it because I never needed to think them bad people of our ending. That for me it was a bad fit for one reason or another. So why must they claim character flaw of me? And even a more important question, “why do I care despite knowing the full truth of this behavior.”

The first reason, incorrect sexuality despite the many tries at anything possible to change that. The second, a person whose triggers lie in mine and vice versa, the very circumstances were triggering. A family life with the kids and I was not their intended path, despite how we could comfort one another’s hurt parts in a moment. The chemical was seductive, but how it played out in relationship was in very unhealthy interactions. The third, the least healthy of them all. A rebound played out far too quickly. My attempt at my pattern again, and this time knowing better, being honest right away, but being naive to how honest they were with themselves. A totally different game.

Outside the wake of all of this my healthy self, and therefore relationship emerged. A partner who was gentle and kind, but also strong and solid as a person. A soft confidence. An earnest communication without manipulation. A whole new world. Emotionally attuned and stable. It felt impossible at first. I looked for every possible way I could be wrong again, but finally no red flags were found.

We are all healing in this home. Healing from love and loss. And K and A are red hot raw spots for me. So naturally I would want for them to convene with an ex husband that both of them talked poorly about while in relationship with me. If you’re thinking muddy waters. You would be correct? What could possibly be in it for all of them? Except for desperately seeking the comfort of fellow wounded.

My ex husband never seems to move forward with his own life. For the life of me after years of me seeking therapy and being honest with him about my struggles about being gay, in so many ways he is still at square one. And square one consists of him still attempting to insert himself into aspects of my life he has no business being in. And him valuing his opinion of me (which often includes judgment and criticism for anything and everything), over seeing what is important for him to show and teach our children.

And yet I still sing his praises to all who listen because his standard for being a good parent is “that he pays his child support”, and that “he shows up for his kids.” Well I have news for you guys there is more to being a good person than this. It runs much deeper. You can hand a bag of goodies to a homeless person when you swing by, and make food for all the soccer families, and smile at the pride of your seemingly unselfish acts, but when you insinuate that the mother of your children is somehow in some way not up to snuff to your children, are you then still a good person?

By what standard ? What are the standards here ? Well they always depend on the situation and whom you are asking now don’t they?

I am still working my way to taking myself off the battlefield and not showing up to every party I am invited to. Especially when the invite is to a pity party. No matter how seductive, I won’t go. There is no glory in it.

But processing the feelings out loud so if even one person feels seen by my sharing feels a worthy endeavor for me. A post like this is for both the author and the reader.

Isn’t that ok at the end of the day?

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Under Construction…..

Filling my morning with some of my most treasured….
A Home and Life Under Construction….

Good morning readers! It is 1:31 pm and I am still in bed. My immediate view is the one you see in the first picture. My son who no doubt stayed up most of the night “nerding out” on the computer, and my fir son snoring together gently at my feet as I write. What isn’t pictured here is my daughters that were also in the bed, and my person. Storytelling, snuggling, them listening (in short spurts, we all have ADHD) to me reading about writing. I am noticing (realizing) in this very moment that several years back my mind would have been in total chaos and none of this peaceful contemplation space was able to exist. This is heaven right here on earth.

This home that I live in…. I have been in it for six years this March. Six years is longer than most things in my life have been consistent save for my children, everything else has been constantly changing. It was move in ready when my ex and I bought it. The previous owners favored yellow, orange, and brown paint colors, but it was fresh and clean and bright. At the time we said it was ours we knew, but hadn’t told the kids. They were ten, eight, and eight years of age. Her parents video taped their reaction in the living room to us saying “do you like this house”, and they jumped around excitedly, an emphatic yes uttering with sheer glee from their innocent mouths. And then we said “good because we bought it”, and we all jumped up and down together in the empty clean living room and celebrated. I wonder if and where this video still exists.

Since then this house has seen many changes, and it has become a refuge for many a “lost traveler”, someone needing something in their lives, and they found some piece of that here with us, in the roaring of our beating hearts. This home is full of life, and strong strong personalities, every one. Members of this home that have lived here and departed include; my one almost marriage partner of most of my children’s young lives, this one came with a lovely supportive family that I am ever so grateful to to this day for all they taught me about family. The woman that I dated after her who lived with us for about 1.5 years. A magical wizard of a chef who wore her heart on her sleeve, and shared similarities with me in family of origin shit. Our triggers lied within each others triggers. We were mirrors. The roommate and still bestfriend and her son who is like my own, who gave birth to her second son here in our home. A single mother who always put her son first, and loves with every ounce of her heart. They rented our downstairs, and still to this day some of my fondest memories are of them being here. Then there was the last of my life changing relationships of someone who would inhabit this home. There is still much unfinished work in processing this relationship. This person brought the nurturing, almost parent like capacity to our lives. She was the first person I ever co-habitated with that I functioned well with. We worked very well together. She helped me get my practice off the ground and managed my business for a time. She taught me how to fiercely love myself, and to self-care. She showed up for us, and it all felt very safe. I was trying to crack the code on my inability to last in a romantic relationship. I broke my pattern by not turning this into a romantic relationship it wasn’t, just to belong and to not be alone. So we lived together like a family, with the best aspects, without the tearing at one another with expectation. I didn’t need to because she just took care of anything and everything we could have wanted, the missing needs, without being asked. Because she enjoyed being loving and nurturing. However there were some unseen flaws in this model and it ended quiet abruptly and unexpectedly. The lack of her presence is felt, I wish we could have kept eachother in our warrior tribe of women. I think fondly of her. To the best of my knowledge she does not share that sentiment towards me. I took more abrupt actions in her leaving our home. It would be very hard to explain. But I still think we each took things we desperately needed from that situation, but that it didn’t have to end how it did, with the severed connection.

Throughout all this time I was mostly focused on school, my career, and internal processes, this left no room for home improvement. The only small scale experience I had is when the almost marriage partner moved out and I was devastated for a period of weeks. I repainted and changed my bedroom in attempt to pick my devastated self up off the floor. I also watched Under the Tuscan Sun every single day and night on repeat. I read Eat, Pray, Love, and a Year by The Sea by Joan Anderson. I walked, and read, and exercised. I even “saged” at one point I believe. I got massages and Reiki. But I never knew much about DIY home things, inside or outside of the house, and learning proves to be daunting, and leave a slight flavor of irritability as I would rather be writing. Maybe it just isn’t my thing, or maybe I just allow myself to become so overwhelmed I don’t do it. In any case it was time for a change…. so my person this time is partially the catalyst for this. In a home with so many memories of others lingering, as part of our process to make this feel like our story, we are painting. Also on a longer term plan we would like to relocate closer to both of our jobs. So either way the house will be ready for market etc,.  Initially I resisted this movement mostly due to all the effort it requires and financial resources it takes. But after a long while of having stated an intention and not doing anything about it, one day, in true me fashion, we just picked up and bought the supplies and began….

So far the guest bathroom has gone from this horridly abrasive yellow/brown color, to a smooth, creamy, and calming Avenue Tan. It’s very zen-like. Though the outlet covers are naked, as we haven’t found the right fit yet, the towel rack with one hook broken on it remains unreplaced, and the new espresso cabinet we got to go over the wall where the toliet is still remains in the box from Amazon. I abhor attempting to assemble and hang things. I have very little patience for such tasks. I often wish this were different, and I try to make up my mind a new adventure will be different. Alas, each new attempt just tries my patience, and makes me wish I never started. Also although I appreciate thoroughly the beautiful view of a finished product, and the ensuing sense of accomplishment, I often thought that I hope this is the last time I can’t just pay someone to labor for me. :p I always wanted to be one of those “do it yourself people”, I admire them. But I am thinking as I write that they find a joy during the act of such work and crafting, that is not the same for me. Maybe those type of people would just as soon have a root canal as put their most inner thoughts and feelings into words, let alone allow the world to view them?

Maybe there is a lot more to this “wiring” thing than we think sometimes. I always tended to think you could do anything you set your mind to. But then again I also thought if I set my mind not to be gay, that was also a possibility, as it turns out, it wasn’t. I think it is true that you can (try things way outside your comfort zone/capability). But to further extrapolate on this, I realize now that while you can “try on” anything, and have many adventures, some will speak to your soul and be enjoyable to you, and some will not. With regard to hard work it’s not that I don’t appreciate it. As a core value I really do actually. But anymore I get physically tired so much more easily. I give so much more of myself to the rest of the world. And since I do so sitting in a chair in a cozy office, on a schedule of my own-making, I often am unfair to myself in my perception of how much I give, and how hard I work. I also attempt to constantly deny the fact I have a Chronic Illness, because I can’t find balance on this. I either am dying from it, or choose to pretend I don’t have it at all. There is no in between. Historically I am not so good at balance, or regulation for that matter. It’s been a big task of mine. It is ever a work in progress in my life.

My daugher is making “bids” for my attention as I write this, and the thing is happening. Where I become frustrated at being plucked from my reverie, every few seconds as she asks me questions that could easily be figured out by herself. She wants my attention. She has wanted it often. She is still “younger” than her other siblings in a certain sense. She still wants to play. Bless her heart. The other twin (A) is probably thinking about her boyfriend and brooding about her phone and the complexities of life. My son is sleeping off his computer all nighter “hangover”, the bullodog encouraging him by joining. It serves me more to pull myself from the reverie to be present, it gives myself and my daughter something we both need, but again it is in ways so against my wiring. It is if I am wired for lots of peaceful quiet, books, cups of tea/coffee, being cozy or as the Danish call it Hygge (Hoo-Gah)… a post on that later. I am wired for contemplation and to ponder the mysteries of everyday society, unmet needs, and the complexities of the Universe. I could basically do that all day everday, and yet I dislike my mind tricking me into perceiving my children as a burden. This has been a battle of my existence for certain.

This morning’s writing was clearly all over the place, nothing that I expected that is for sure. I expected a summary I suppose of the current year. Some tender musings on hopes for this next one. The obligatory Resolutions. Today most importantly is the one year anniversary of initially reaching out to my beautiful person. We celebrated not with fancy dinner or fanfare, but with allowing ourselves to wake slowly and lounge in the comfort of one another this morning before she left for work again. It was the best feeling. Maybe the fact that my posts have less of a beginning and an end means its meant to be more of a book. My daughter has the hiccups and she is desperate for my attention from the next room. She has been asking someone to play a game with her constantly. So I am going to go be present and hope to write more soon. I did want to share some of my thoughts on Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird” that I started reading this morning. At first read of her I was a bit turned off by all the religion speak, and something about her disjointed style (hmmm pots and kettles), but as her language familiarizes itself to me… it’s a bit like falling in love. I guess that’s how it happens really anyway, right ?

Unchained Melody is on Pandora. I think of days of glamorizing Patrick Swayze and in Dirty Dancing, when these days I look back at tomboy Demi from the movie ghost and swoon. Life is funny.

<3

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Don’t turn away….PTSD hurts, and finding what heals….

I had a difficult night last night. My son is having a hard time as a highly sensitive person in an overstimulating world. As a family system when this is hard on one, because we love each other so much, it’s hard on all. And the most readily accessible emotion is anger. It’s the most seductive, the most comforting. We had expectations about the way our day would go. After all we were cutting down our first Christmas tree together as this whole family. I myself have never cut down a tree for Christmas before. This event went differently than planned in every sense of the word. I always say “you can plan a pretty picnic but you can’t predict the weather”…. that isn’t original in fact I am pretty sure a Ludacris song lyric gets the original credit, but I’ve made it an important lesson in counseling over the years 😉 I also got a terrible stomach just at the moment we were cutting with no bathroom in sight and had been fighting a migraine all day. The stress and guilt and frustration at thinking I wouldn’t make it, to the outhouse blech, threw the migraine into full force. The anger thoughts are so tempting…. the why me’s, the I deserve’s….. the it’s not fairs of it all. I needed comfort and warmth, but instead was forced to be strong for my family. I wanted to show up. I always want to show up.

Strong seems to yield hard on self and others for me. So when my teenage son wouldn’t participate in photos I was anything but patient. He having just come off of being distressed the night before because his sisters were fighting over ice cream. The true result of the ice cream was hurt feelings. One feeling the other didn’t believe the best about her and being shamed etc. Hurt all around. He absorbed and internalized and it stayed with him that next day. And heaven forbid my dreams of a peaceful day be interrupted in such a manner. I wasn’t as patient as I would have liked.

All I can think here is that we need to help each other with this hurt. Shaming does not work. Blaming does not work. Anger does not work. Disconnecting does not work. Warm, open, gentle, understanding, kindness, effort, dialogue, patience…. these things work. If we don’t first give it to ourselves we cannot show others how to do the same. The model where we put ourselves to the side in an effort to give all to someone else doesn’t work either, because our unmet needs turn into anger and frustration that must find a way out somewhere.

If I did not feel so guilty for leaving during an important moment, due to something I couldn’t control, perhaps I would have been more patient. If I said to myself it’s ok Christina they all understand, maybe I could have been more understanding for my son. And then later would have been less likely to have an adult temper tantrum when I was afraid, and instead of showing up in warmth …. I froze in terror. I let my teenage son feel like he was responsible for ruining our day, with some words I allowed myself to say out loud.

The truth, my truth is that when it comes to observing intense suffering especially with my children (unthinkable) I freeze in terror. I have felt not nurturing because of this. I have felt like some important part is missing in me. I have had such a difficult time understanding why I can show up so well as a Counselor, but this aspect of motherhood always held places of deep fear for me. This is what PTSD does, it grips and holds and freezes.

As a Counselor I care deeply for my Clients, however the relationship has boundaries and I am an onlooker to their lives. I can stay and be present, and offer support and I mean it genuinely. In my relationship with my children it’s an entirely different ballgame. But I do sit and try and sort through these things. I believe that PTSD changes your wiring. And that you need to learn to work around your unique self. The self that matches your WHOLE story, not the parts that are more palatable. That you need to embrace and work with the parts that have been hurt, versus rejecting them. And that is the most difficult thing because who wants the injured parts? We want to rid ourselves. When you choose a puppy you choose the lively one that is energetic and happy, you don’t choose the sad one in the corner who looks as if it may be ill. But probably most of the time you give that puppy what it needs and it will likely perk right up and thrive like the rest. But if needs go unmet it will continue to suffer.

I had an interesting morning. I decided after a very draining experience last night in my family to rally and continue forward. I wrote an email and I called the school counselor, and I got up and helped my son wake up and I cared for him in the best ways I know how. I helped him get to school and drove him. He usually takes the bus. I pulled up and saw a woman sitting on a bench outside the school breaking down into tears. I looked once and thought you know what I don’t want to butt in, what if I make her more uncomfortable. What if it isn’t my place? So I went to leave…. something stopped me and I thought I can’t let that woman sit on that bench crying and not do a thing, when I know I can do something. Also the part of me that connected to my own pain thought, oh thank goodness I’m not alone, let me try and connect. I needed her as much as she needed me.

I approached gently and asked if I could sit with her. She stated she had just been fired from her job, and that her son who has behavior troubles was about to be arrested, he wouldn’t get out of her car so she was sitting on that bench. We realized that our children know one another in a significant way and I embraced her and sat with her. The school managed to help and her son went to school and she later told me her boss listened and let her keep her job. There’s still a lot that she needs, but this morning neither of us had to face the things on our plate alone.

If you see someone or something that has a need and you get that inclination to reach out…. turn toward it. Don’t turn away. You never know who you may be affecting, but you can guarantee that you will be impacted as well. It takes a village and we all need to be connected to each other.

If you have found love…. spread it as much as you can 💜💜💜

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Next time something bad happens, ask yourself “what is the best thing that could come of this”?

I seem to produce my best work whether it be in a therapy session or on the page when I am at my most vulnerable. I am also at my most uncomfortable during this time so it is extra challening to get my feelings out if I am judging myself or shutting down.

I was on a roll with the blog posts and then they slowed down, and of course the harpy critic was close nearby telling me this would be just like before, just like all the other times. Times I would get excited about something beyond my means to fulfill those goals and inevitably crash and burn. What I have learned about this these past few weeks is if you don’t give up when it gets hard, you get overwhelmed, when your self-talk isn’t kind, when you repeatedly do the thing you swear you won’t do in a moment of strength, that the payoff of that in the end is much greater than if you were to stop trying altogether. I have learned that little steps in the right direction are what gets us to our goals, rather than grand perfectly executed plans. We plan our lives that way right? On timelines, using flow maps and charts, having watched people we admire and hoping for our lives to be like theirs, and then the CURVEBALLS (the thing I wrote about several posts back). I used to be so sensitive to the curveballs and so fragile I would fall apart when things didn’t go as I expected or MY WAY. At this point I have learned that this very thing is not only inevitable, it also contains great mysterious GIFTS, that are almost impossible to recognize as such. So next time you are tempted to feel it can’t get any worse, as yourself this strange question. What’s the best thing that could come out of this?

I had a therapist do this bizarre exercise with me, and boy was I ready at the start to be resistant. You mean what is the best part about my unexpected $4000.00 vet bill? Are you serious lady? It turns out the best part was while it’s still on my radar and stressful, and a serious setback…. it allowed me the opportunity to see how many people cared for me, would have my back and show up, and how well my partner and I navigated it together (when in the past in my relationship we would have just taken out stress on one another). The best thing about that vet bill is that my life was not over. I am still able to pay my bills. I realized that in the past I would have taken the bill as evidence that my life and the large financial demands of 3 children alone, let alone student loans etc. was a burden on anyone I could possibly date, I would continue to behave as if I operated alone and inevitably push that person out of my life for good. I knew this time when we dealt with it gracefully and I allowed myself to be helped and to conquer those “being a burden fears”, that I was truly ready for all that love demands. A cheaper lesson might have been preferred here. I am hoping my next one will not cost $4000.00, however I am grateful nevertheless.

I didn’t intend to write that, it wasn’t how my mind started out. Maybe I needed the reminder myself, and sharing it with all of you helps with that. I am still learning how long I want each post to be. I have a tendency to go on and on. I have more to write, but I am tempted to leave this lesson in more of a nugget fashion versus a novel, and to continue my many thoughts on the next post.

 

<3

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Curveballs

How do you manage when stress hits seemingly at the worst times?

Today went about as far against the plan as one could get. So my lovely person and I were supposed to go on a few day getaway courtesy of Groupon (I love Groupon getaways). After the immense planning it takes between business and family to be able to have the space to do this, amidst all of the stresses of regular everyday life, this becomes something at times our sanity nearly hinges on. Things to look forward to are of utmost importance in the scheme of getting through the more mundane, difficult, etc.

This morning began with one of my 13 year old twin daughters in a funk. That is putting it oh so nicely. For anyone out there who has lived through the tween phase and hormones you know what I mean. This included a full bout of door slamming and aggressive sighing. Attitude before sunrise (or coffee for that matter) is something that I have a more difficult time exercising patience about. Being an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) one of my special instructions for care is to have some meditative time to ground myself before anything coming at me in the morning. I also have a tough time sleeping after intense emotional battles. This particular situation is just another aftershock in what has been a particularly difficult earthquake in our home. If it had ended here I would have taken awhile to ground again, but sadly it did not.

Our French Bulldog Sigmund Freud woke up with paraphimosis, a delighful condition in which the penis gets swollen and stuck outside the foreskin. It looks like a giant red strawberry, but I assure you there is nothing sweet about this. This is the 4th time he has had this issue. Each time after splendidly interesting DIY attempts to fix it, we have ended up at the Emergency Vet to the tune of around $300.00. We have been advised that Neutering him *might* fix the issue. That wasn’t convincing enough to schedule the appointment. I was also kind of hoping he might be able to be a Daddy someday. Sadly today that dream has ended. We were able to convince his vet to neuter him at the same time they fixed the problem. This was about $600.00. I just spent $200.00 the other day for an over-growth of yeast in his ears. Frenchies are a cute novelty, but very expensive. He’s safe and well by the way, seemingly pain free (and testicle free).

The financial piece just adds insult to the already burning injury of the fact we were supposed to pack this am at a leisurely pace and head to our destination. If you add difficulty with an ex-husband that could primarly be described as a power/ego struggle and having nothing to do with the best interest of the children, then it’s really a party.

So before I slip into too much angst again about this situation I will say that several years ago a few events like this would have made me behave really badly. I would have been snappy at those closest to me. Believed that the bottom would fall out from under me. Become so stressed that I became ill. I easily slipped into a Bruce Almightly like storm of feeling sorry for myself. Due to the level of overwhelm I often experience it’s easy to FEEL in a moment like you may not make it out alive, and I behaved as such.

In my 36th year I am thankfully learning that events like these, even piled on top of one another, do not in fact make the world stop turning. In fact I have even learned at times to laugh, yes laugh, when I have a day so absurdly bad that my eye begins to twitch. The one reprieve from the Universe (with a little help from my ability to ask for my needs) was that after describing today as one of the worst I ever experienced, the people at the INN took pity on us and moved our getaway one day over without charging anything extra. A RARE and valuable relief.

My dog is alive (bulldogs sometimes have a tough time with general anesthesia and this had also made me put off his neuter). My kids are healthy and relatively happy despite our occasional bouts of wills. While I would much rather use all these vet bills for a vacation to Ireland, I am able to pay them. And also nothing of mine has been destroyed by a hurricane or any other natural disaster. My practice thrives. I have amazing people in my life who support and love me. Surprisingly, not enough of my hair has fallen out (due to stress) to cause a noticeable difference. I do have a thick head full, thank goodness. 😉 Also I love what I do for my career and couldn’t imagine my life any other way.

So what do you do with the Curveballs life throws at you? Do you handle them gracefully? Do you kick and scream and fall apart? Do you feel sorry for yourself? Do you get angry and indignant? Are you able to roll with the punches and fairly quickly put things into perspective in such a way that you can move on quickly and not hang on too much to poisonous anger? How long does it take you to bounce back?

Some of my favorite coping mechanisms when I can’t shake feeling overwhelmed and like certain doom is on the horizon are:

A nice long hot shower (or bath). I find few things that can’t be fixed with them. It’s one of my favorite resets.

A cup of tea. I like honey lavendar stress relief by Yogi in particular.

Paying more attention to the simple things like forcing myself out of my head when I am walking the dogs. So that I notice the color of things, and the smells, a butterfly maybe, or an interesting looking bird. The simplicity of smiling at a neighbor.

Listening to music that is relaxing or speaks to my soul.

My absolute favorite though is the way my person lightens my heavy and weary soul during these times. How she knows how to let me vent and breathe. How she doesn’t instruct or try to fix everything. How she knows just how to calm me without doing anything intentionally. Her presence has become a safe harbor for all of my dark moments. Now that they are not taken personally or panicked over, they leave as fast as they come. They have shrunk in size and duration and I feel free of the angry beast that used to inhabit me when I was stressed or scared. I am beyond grateful for this. The effect ripples into everything that I am and that I do. I am a glass covered lake at dawn, still, calm, and transparent. Nothing to hide or worry about being discovered.

*note if you haven’t yet found this person in your life: romance yourself. Wine and dine YOU. Watch silly videos to laugh. Be your own harbor until you’re ready to settle into someone else being one.

What are your ways of coping with the unknown and stressful?

We are going to try again tomorrow. Right after therapy with my daughter, because practice what you preach 😉

Stay Tuned…..     <3

*Conclusion* Bad days make you look for, see, and appreciate the little things that much more.