Tag: #Highlysensitiveperson

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New Creation Always comes Out of Old

I am listening to Ruelle radio. I heard a song by her I loved in a movie last night. Wildflower I think the movie was called.

My chest has been heavy lately. Only partially the bad cold I just had. I’ve had anxiety. Which is interesting because in the zoom out, big picture of it all things are going really well. Me doing the work is going really well.

I’m being and becoming more consistent and grounded. I’m in my body more than I’m not. It’s a disconcerting sensation attaching inside a body after years of compensating in a variety of ways and adapting to disconnection.

I am nothing if not adaptable. It’ll be on my headstone. She adapted. It’s not the strongest of the species, but those that can adapt that survive. What was necessary became a lifestyle. What is no longer necessary leaves room for what is essential.

Insert a quote about a prince and his lesson….

Belmont street beckons always. Woodmont is busy today. Normally that would bother me but I’m making time and space for myself anywhere these days.

Today I recognized I’d been too long without the oxygen that being alone provides. Despite all the events being good ones including Elizabeth Gilbert and Rob Bell, it’s a major non negotiable of mine to be alone often and for spans of time. I crave it.

As today I was craving my smoothie water drive and park and meander, through the world and my mind equally.

One day I will look up and…. I lost my train of thought. It went off the tracks. Just like that.

One day maybe I’ll have one of these houses that faces here, because this space is sacred to me. There’s not an explanation. I’m just called to it always and feel at home here.

Hearts are like that too. Inexplicable. Finicky. Unpredictable. I’ve learned a lot about that during my life.

I miss writing here. There’s always so much to say I don’t get to, it pains me.

Life around me is moving fast, and inside me it’s much more still. Thank god.

My nest is nearly empty and yet absolutely full.

My triggers subsiding. Fingers gliding across your surface.

My poet and my scribe and my novelist are all scrambling for front and center lol, no surprise there.

Found twin B her first car. Milestone moment. Able to help and have her do some in her own, the epitome of success as a parent, in my opinion anyway.

I appreciate it all now. Every moment I can get. Yes, even when it’s difficult. Even with a thousand triggers. I’ll take a thousand and one deep breaths. I don’t wanna miss a thing.

She’s leaving for her first year in college. Florida. Bless her. I hate Florida. Hate the humidity and one or two other things. But I’ll love to visit her and hear about what that’s like for her.

The Little Prince has his first apartment with roommates and it’s very close to the house. He’s taking care of himself and learning life.

Twin A is going to finish her second year of college and then head off to UCONN.

In one years time ish unless one comes home I’ll have none of my children living under my roof.

I’m just sitting here facing my beloved water and thinking about this. My life is vast, and full. I’ve lived every inch of it, every corner. And yet there are lifetimes more. How exciting.

My chronic pain is profound. It is not trivial. But I learn to cope a little better every day and it no longer makes me anxious the way it used to. I just learn what I need and how to love and talk to me better. How to listen better.

Heart opening, softening, thawing. Mercy, Grace.

My goal is relaxation and creation. No more hustle and grind. An early retirement of sorts, a peace treaty of the mind.

Man or a monster Sam Tinnesz et Al.

I am proud. That’s what I am. I show up. I stay. I’m steadfast and strong and loving and everything I never came from. And I am finally, finally, not kept out of my own warmth. No more gaslighting. No more making myself small. No accepting less …..

I can’t believe how much cold, hard, estrangement and desolation I lived with inside of me. That breaks my heart.

Monsters by Ruelle. Some kind of theme here :p. I feel endless possibilities at this juncture.

I’m Christina Jenkins now. I’ve never had a last name that felt like home. Now I do. It’s extra ironic and pleasant that was my notebook name of practicing when I dreamt of marrying my first love. And guess what I still love him. A wholesome heartfelt relationship that has lasted our whole lives with a family who loves me as a bonus.

I love my name. Who knew getting married wasn’t the only way to have a name you love or a family for that matter. Now I have many.

An abundance of belonging. And an abundance of tender affections for me.

All my love,

C

Ps it’s a beautiful Saturday. I’m not working. I just saw a Frenchie. I am loved. My needs are met and I now allow my whole story and every inch of my memories and emotions regarding that to exist.

I no longer cut off parts of myself …..

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The Great Adventure of Understanding Me

“You can do something now to live the life you want to live.”

Grrr this was written the other day. And now I’m on a different one but just noticed this didn’t post.

Running book title: Understanding me.

If I wrote a book now that might be what it would be entitled right now. That’s what I’m working at each day.

Now that I’m not desperately trying to understand the actions of someone else (most of the time ;)), I am figuring out what I want, need, etc. Go figure. And also for me, easier said than done.

So today I find myself in the Storrs Library just over the CT state line. I’m here for my insert number here energy healing. I wonder how many that’s a good question.

I went to look it up on Venmo because I’m me, and the internet here inside the library has not lived up to my patience threshold. I crack myself up. So maybe something to get a statistic on later, if I remember. Slim chance.

So I’m sitting in the library with Things That Matter by Joshua Becker on my lap. Knew nothing about this book before I opened it. So far it begs you to ask the question of what you would regret about not finishing in your life. It speaks of a person’s work with the dung and their shared regrets and those commonalities.

It’s talking about how to live focusing (my fear kicks in with self knowledge here, my arch nemesis), on how to achieve the focus necessary to live according to your priorities.

Living in a way that makes a difference and not “wasting” that.

If you were to die today, what one thing (or few things) would you be most disappointed that you weren’t capable to complete.

Let’s see if I can work through mine here. There is the obvious sharing of my story and writing a book, the two may not be mutually exclusive. I’m still figuring out that.

I would regret not having fully apologized to those I’ve loved, where appropriate, based on the understanding I now have of myself.

Perhaps I would regret not giving enough attention to develop a counseling theory or movement based on the knowledge I have.

And not having a healthier relationship with myself, how I treat myself etc.

So I suppose reading this it’s pretty clear I’m on the path. That’s comforting. Seriously.

I just read make it a point to read books from different centuries because it will come from a different perspective and will challenge your thinking in new ways! That’s why East of Eden! Woooo! I’m ahead of the game.

So these are the five regrets people cited…

💜

And our time together today in this blog is almost at a close. I certainly do not regret making this post.

What I learned today is how close I am to living my life in a way that leaves few regrets and I could have lost all of that by obsessing over some of my mistakes and getting lost in them.

Stop it! I say to myself… stop it and carry on.

Onward! (Thanks Liz) and now I can truly embody and feel that message and how you got to it.

All my love, all of it!

C

Ps lately my thoughts are highly influenced by Soul Friends and exploring the connection that have most deeply impacted me, trauma work, understanding what triggers my symptoms and how that affects my life. Also the reading of Come as You Are, as well as Letting Go. Energy healings, movement, nature, self discovery, reflections, and the places that shows or songs or moving or reading take me.

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There’s No Place Like Home: Laying Down Roots

“Many people say that you have to love yourself first before you can love others, but really, if you learn to love others, you will learn to love yourself.”

There really is no place like home.

I have roots, who knew. The Mountain is You speaks to uprooting and it resonates greatly to how I lived my life so many years.

Have I mentioned that I hate flying ?

And I love seeing and experiencing new things. So there’s a lot to manage there. I am adventurous but also nearly crippled by the level of anxiety signals and the ease with which they become activated.

For example I cannot make my mind settle for statistics on the safety of flying when my body knows I’m sailing above the clouds in a sophisticated tin can thousands of feet in the air. My entire body is tense until landing and despite how I distract or medicate myself, the body knows imminent death is at hand.

It takes days to recover from even a tame venture that involves flying. I may be a feet on the ground kind of gal. And is that alright !!? Now I want to listen to that song.

And I shall.

Connecticut has become home.

The air is home. I feel something upon returning. My feelings often take me by surprise. Mostly that I can feel them at all in real time. It’s startling and sometimes unsettling, even the good, especially the good.

The only thing we need to do with feelings is feel them. Who knew this? I thought a feeling means you must take an immediate action. I’m a good little soldier after all. 🙁

I want you to look right in my eyes, to tell me you love me, to be by my side….

Want to see your face as I fall with grace at the moment I die…..

My mission to go to a book store on any trip I take and then inscribe the front page with date, time, and thoughts about my travel almost did not come to fruition. Florida doesn’t believe in books apparently. But I was determined so I ended up with The Invisible Life of Addie Larue by V.E. Schwab. This book is interesting to say the least. It’s a little tough to follow in the beginning, but I’m confident the threads will come together.

My hope is to leave a library of my experiences and thoughts for my children and their children. I hope to pass down my love for books and hope that electronics don’t ever swallow them, as they have so many other beautiful things. Like the ability to think and be bored.

I finished most of East of Eden in 2 days which was a breathless experience. Lost inside her pages. I am home there too. Weaving my own story in my mind as I experience another’s creativity. It awakens mine.

Speaking of that I’ll be at Victoria Erickson’s writing workshop at Kripalu this weekend. A last minute choice. So absolutely necessary. I also have Elizabeth Gilbert and Rob Bell in June. What life is this?!

I went down to my office this morning and I experienced such overwhelming comfort. My sacred healing space. So many intimate moments held there. Realizations. Tears. So many painful memories left in my keeping, entrusted to me. It’s a healing space. A powerful one.

I had so many more things to talk about, but session time has crept up on me as it usually does. So I guess it’s just my fear of flying and love for reading, and ability to do both much more successfully than I have in the past.

All my love,

C

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Everyone deserves someone who has their back no matter what

Because to take away a man’s freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person.
Madeline L’Engle

It’s so interesting I’m reading East of Eden right now. Nothing is an accident ever.

Years of generational trauma are coming to a head in my little family. We are all facing our stuff.

I had a dream ……

I think of the beginning of Mama Mia, how many times I watched that movie thinking I just liked Abba. Ha. It took years to click that a movie about a girl who has three father’s that show up all wanting her, was obviously going to tickle my fantasy.

I remember my own father (during a short reconnecting I initiated, it was not a warm reception) mocked me for liking such a corny production. Oh the irony there. He was a smart man from the little I knew him, but severely lacking in emotional intelligence and empathy. Or maybe that’s just because he never continued his connection with me. I most likely will never know. It matters less in this present time. Not as much of a gaping wound.

Mama Mia is an intelligent play with a brilliant cast. You’ll never make me think differently.

I also dreamed of being a good mother, a dream that often felt out of reach. People would try to encourage me, and I would make sure they knew they just didn’t know what lurked inside of me well enough.

But as it turns out if you’re courageous and you don’t give up, you can absolutely attain what you desire.

As a generational curse breaker it was never going to be easy. I couldn’t have imagined it would be this hard, or this worth it.

I stand with the misunderstood and the misunderstanding in their pain, and now I also stand with myself.

My children are strong and beautiful and all heart, at times to their detriment, but that’s normal.

They are kind to others.

My children are kind to others, not perfect. They are kind.

They too are learning to turn their pain into power.

We have been in family therapy for going on three years now. We have all wanted to give up I’d imagine. We have been through therapist’s, and harmed by them at times. Others have helped.

We show up.

It’s often a slow hard slog through painful sludge. At times it’s excruciatingly like being burned alive.

Most of the time I’ve doubted it’s the right thing, as it’s not the popular way. Just let them be kids leave them alone, and do it in a more acceptable way. Make things look better don’t introspect it’s dangerous. I feel the opposite, it’s dangerous to people when you don’t/can’t/ won’t.

Most of my life I’ve doubted the good in me. I’ve spent it separated from myself. That is excruciating. It is torture.

Then I became tortured.

I didn’t want to breathe anymore I was so lost. All of the truths I thought I knew shattered and an even worse view of myself to climb out of.

I stayed the course.

I still have plenty of healing to do. We still have plenty of healing to do. But the heaviness is lifting, and in this new freedom we all attempt to connect naturally as best we can, with no force involved.

No having to constantly control my own emotions or attempting to control anyone else’s so I can have an illusion of safety.

Just a free fall into the clouds. This blissful peace that warms my sore bones.

I feel at times like I’ve been hypnotized or am in an alternate universe. That’s how far away good has felt for me. If something is good it feels like it’s in a dream, foggy ethereal, surreal.

And certainly not mine…..

I remember driving to my office in Fairfield and just asking over and over if this was really my life. I actually was aware how dissociative I was, but I stayed right near me until it was safe enough to embody my body.

As it turns out that can be the most painful “surgery” you may ever endure. Once inside you feel everything via the body.

You feel everything

I feel everything

I am love

You’re love

Misunderstandings won’t keep us apart.

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A Routine by Any Other Name Just Wouldn’t Taste as Sweet.

Well I don’t believe in wasted time, but I understand his meaning…..

Good morning! Here I am because habits are easier to follow through with. I’m still toying with my daily routine, and probably always will be due to my belief that routine can be the death of creativity. It can also be the vehicle in some ways so once again….

Balance is essential.

I’d say for me balance is a larger obstacle than anyone with a lesser degree of trauma. My executive lobe probably looks like Swiss cheese or whatever a damaged executive lobe looks like on MRI. Can you just request an MRI to see the degree trauma has affected your brain ? I need to look into this more.

I walked one mile this morning. I have an 8:15 this morning and then back to backs until 6:30. When I say back to backs now I mean with 15-25 minutes in between if I end on time. I don’t know what I did or how I scheduled them with no time in between. Now I do my note and use the bathroom or whatever. And this keeps me much more satisfied overall. Who knew.

I’m about to change my schedule so that my weekends are always mine. I’ll likely work m-t and Fridays I’m in love, aka my therapy and writing, maybe a book by the shore or a coffee shop, and then two more real estate days Saturday and Sunday.

What will life be like?

I’m scared and excited to often be less scared and excited from actual fear. It’s training. A whole lot of training. And a whole lot of grieving.

Grieving all the things that never were, that I’d hoped and dreamed for and allowing myself to do that while also moving forward. It does not need to look or be some perfect way. This is not the time or the place for good ol’ right and wrong. Those concepts have stolen enough of my life thank you very much.

So my walk this morning. Exhilarating. The season helps of course. Begin the day with endorphins and energy. At least one mile, when I have more time between two and three and I’m thinking of ending the day with a lap as well, a lap is a mile. When I am able to, some days are packed. I am grateful for the packed days as well.

This morning I ended season one of the CoDependent Mind with Brian and Stephanie. I’ll copy my notes from it, the standouts that I’d like to elaborate on at a later time here. These are all things the author said.

I’d have to try to process it later because the fear and the shame were too overwhelming.

My attention was often consumed with emotional avoidance techniques.

Compartmentalization to avoid cognitive dissonance as well as a feeling of helplessness imparted by the trauma.

Compartmentalization was one of the first causes of Not being able to feel and respond to emotions in real time.

This is a thought I had as a result: all unfinished for now. There will be layers at a later time I’d imagine. There’s name calling as a tactic and name calling as an emotional reaction when overwhelmed. Both are unproductive. Both can be transmuted into a healthier choice.

It’s interesting the musical foreshadowing of my story of my very own life. I’ve always loved the Cure Friday I’m in Love. And now it’s a day for me to kick off the weekend… sacred. My own. All those delicious hours to create with.

So my routines and focus working toward healthy eating, exercise, reading, writing, thinking daily. These are my days.

I don’t like being altered. I’ll have an occasional glass of Chardonnay with oysters, a summer fave, this just began. I’ll have a cold Bad Seed to unwind after a long hot day or if the mood strikes, and or a dirty martini out to dinner. Once in awhile I get adventurous and go for the craft cocktail, but more often than not I find them headache inducing and cloyingly sweet.

I no longer drink beer basically at all. I like the idea of it, but not it itself. Boy isn’t that a metaphor.

Learning how to say no and to know what I want when I want it and what I don’t want, has been a steep learning curve. As the podcast suggest it’s much safer to agree and assimilate and nearly lose oneself entirely.

My bathtime is beginning to dwindle and I need to finish my pages and I’d like to read one chapter of East of Eden before my day begins.

I’d like to incorporate one hour of reading time daily ideally and at least one of play and connecting in whatever form that takes.

These are my priorities.

I’m entering such a different phase of my life right now and it’s a bit terrifying if I’m being honest. It’s also liberating.

So for the rest of the morning I’ll ponder why liberation brings such great fear…. I could give you a fast intellectual answer. But I’m more interested in what my heart wants to speak now.

This will be at the center of all good things in my life. Always has been.

All my love,

C

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Heaven and Hell at Times Exist All at Once

Lost in the rush but I pray you don’t hurt too much …..

How many years was I going to spend in an irritable disconnected state even after I’d done so much work to choose differently. Stuck in that state. It’s like the new software never uploaded, and I was the last to know.

I needed a reflection that wasn’t distorted, to be able to understand my true self differently.

I’m always trapped inside my fucking head on and on and on….

Last night I had to tell the Little Prince he needs to find his own place by 30 days time. Excruciating. Everyone says it’s the right thing. My heart says of course it’s not.

No man left behind. And I never have, not really. I can see now that if I was met even halfway with effort it would have gotten figured out. I’ve only ever left people who weren’t able to show up for themselves, and I never stopped loving them.

One of the most egregious of my self misunderstandings. That I wasn’t loving or lovable.

Devastating. It has harmed so many years of my life.

Saving myself was never anything to do with love.

We all need our stories until we are ready to confront them.

As in many dysfunctional family systems no man is left behind. Blood is thicker than water. I have to separate this from the cord cutting I’ve done with toxic situations and place it in the healthy boundaries category. That’s not easy.

What’s the difference anyway? There is one, and I can almost feel it now. Can you feel it?!

I’m listening to Lewis Capaldi today, he was a frequent during one of the darkest times of my life. His voice goes straight to my bones, like Pink, lady Gaga, Adele, and so many others. Straight to my core. Comfort.

Emotional identification and then manipulation of self and other ensues. You must be able to separate and look at things objectively too. A step outside, some rationality included. Who knew? No one taught me that.

So I learned to teach myself. No victim stories, only tales of survival becoming thriving.

A vibrant life!

I can step back now and the obfuscation dwindles. What a difference. You wouldn’t even recognize it. You couldn’t unless you’ve learned it. Less splitting, integration. Integrity.

Even the dust of emotional manipulation, the residue makes me ill on contact. It’s a way of life untangling my own. That’s what I was trying to do.

I thought that’s what you wanted too.

I was wrong.

I’ve been wrong so many times, but I no longer sweat that the same.

Mistakes are the portals to discovery.

I’m finally taking all the scraps and quilting. Threads to the tapestry.

At least I had the courage to make them, or the naïve dissociation, I guess probably both.

So before you go…. Was there something…..it kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless. I was the storm to weather.

It has subsided to pure presence. So many less triggers. I can breathe now. It’s a different life again, and there’s no fault in it.

Only accountability.

Change and learning.

I am still learning

I will always be learning

Always

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Love is a Steadfast Promise. I Love You Dearly: Tender New Soul.

This morning I had an intrusive thought. We got these crazy sharp and expensive cutco knives from a friend of the girls selling them. It’s a cute and funny memory. But one slip of one of those suckers and like butter your finger will be gone.

My kids like me, can be ultra sensitive about things. It’s a product of trauma and also innate. A double whammy if you will. Anyhow she understood me as laughing at her for the way she was cutting an apple and got angry, just a little compared to before family therapy. I knew if I said anything about how to cut differently I’d be met with an anger that shrivels my soul immediately and makes me want to run for cover.

The only threat present here is misunderstanding, and being misunderstood. It’s the biggest threat present in our family. And finally with a healthier clinician than in the past, the tangles are becoming a little bit undone.

I’ve been hungry to write, but also overwhelmed about gathering and organizing my thoughts. The story of my life. It will be on my headstone. Many years later of course which I now might actually be able to believe. Instead of the story about the shooting star lifespan, bright and gone as quickly as it came.

We all are most likely shooting stars in the scheme of things.

I’ve been having clarity and connection and moments which are all part of a natural ebb and a flow I never thought I’d have a part in. My triggers and coping mechanisms felt as if they swept me up and gave me little choice in the matter.

I know better now.

How to find the delicious sweet spot of acknowledgment of symptoms and experiences and also the compelling why driven reasons to keep moving forward.

You, my loved ones, will always be my why.

I am emotional and open and atoning.

“Everyone is the narcissist but you Christina” plays and re-plays, until I shake it clear of my head and remember the hurt that propels such statements and how deeply misunderstanding I was of myself, which invited energies that would misunderstand me.

I am too aware and too motivated for change to consistently employ such a defense mechanism. Do I have layers of protection that can emit projection and all the other beautiful aspects of control and hiding that that involves.? Absolutely I do.

I am committed to breaking generational curses. Yours, mine, and ours. It is my steadfast promise. I become steady, courageous, accepting, gentle, open, and loving.

It is possible.

I am de programming myself. Shaking off all of the abuse replaying, mine, as well as my transgressions. Enough internal secure ground laid to face the heat of the truth.

The truth has legs. All the things she said playing in my head. All the things I said and did. How outlandish and ridiculous I sounded when I was a walking, talking, coping mechanism. How sad the pain that can be inflicted.

And it’s not over unless life is. I will still make mistakes, and have misunderstandings. But I am here and I show up and I am sturdy and proud of the life I have lived, and the one I’m creating now.

I watched the Glass Castle the other night. Wow. Poignant. Devastating. Relevant. Just incredible.

I watched it through a lens of seeing my transgressions. The worst is the freeze. It’s worse than screwing up. Because I couldn’t be loving either. I admire the fucked up families that stay I always have. Would the children have been better off or not?!

I held back so much, held myself so carefully so I couldn’t be damaging from my damage until I better learned, that for a time I barely existed at all. I couldn’t be fun or playful and I now think rather than only how hard for them, how hard also that was for me. I couldn’t express. No wonder writing felt so important. I had to find some way.

Now I get the privilege of becoming who I’ve always been, and being able to feel it and be connected to it. I am awestruck at this possibility and genuinely compassionate as the suffering involved from my almost entire separation from myself and purely external functionality for enough years I could have become a pillar of stone.

Now I try not to look back lest I become a pillar of salt.

I want to enjoy being a pillar of stability and wisdom and love for my loved ones. It is my daily prayer and mission no longer impossible.

I can say unequivocally that my departure from my own was necessary. I’ve since stopped watching others grief process and wronging myself.

It’s been so exhausting weighing every movement I make, and anyone near me, for good or bad, right or wrong, safe or unsafe. It has been one of my greatest burdens and taken up so much space. But it has also made a conscientious and grateful human being who appreciates even a crumb.

I no longer desperately subsist on scrambling for them, but a little glimmer never hurt anyone. The words often rise. All that glitters is not gold. That memory is sharp, pungent. Control. It worked.

Life is a treasure. It no longer matters.

I was so tired of being misunderstood even before that began. All I needed was to be understanding of myself. I am that now. Soft when I can be, as often as I can be because that’s my preference.

I love Sundays. I love walks. I love reading. I love writing. I love learning. I love connecting. I love warm hearted open people, the ones who mean well and do things ultimately for the right reasons to the best of their ability, according to their awareness at the time.

I believe whole heartedly in no man left behind and I never have, they live on in my mind.

Love is not an emotion, it doesn’t behave as emotions do, it is steadfast promise. Karen McLaren. The language of emotions. It exists whether it is present and practiced or not. In memories, in moments. In the wonderful Brutiful trap that is the mind. The door is open you may come and go as you please.

I am at peace.

Oh and also I’ll be attending a getaway at Omega again finally. Haven’t been since 2015. Elizabeth Gilbert and Rob Bell. Be still my heart. Their article why do we Thank our heroes was printed and given to as many clients as possible around that same time. The first time I saw Liz in person. Those are such intimate memories.

I have more I want to write but for now I broke the silent spell and that is enough for the moment.

All my love,

C

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Finding Her Voice in a Sea of Others

Colorful sound wave background psd

There is something so movie about sitting at a coffee shop and writing. I don’t know what I ever did before noise cancelling head phones. For if it were not for them I wouldn’t be accomplishing a thing right now. I’m sitting at the Barnes and Nobles in Milford on my second me date this weekend, as recommended by Melissa (my therapist). The first one was at Cafe Atlantique. I must admit it was a bit cozier, but by the time I got around to me today, it was closed.

Being a Barista and working in a book store are two jobs I would have loved and never got around to, though I had many others.

I spent family time today. Did some documentation. Walked two miles. Wow I guess it’s been not only a productive Sunday, but an enjoyable one. There is a tiny group of people here, and one of the girls has a chihuahua (I never know how to spell that word, it’s one of those words for me) in a little coat vest thing nonetheless. Stooooop it! I can’t with the cute. I didn’t realize before today how many people bring their various pets into this store.

I am calm and centered. Which can sometimes be mistaken for restless. Sometimes I am restless, just not now.

I am loving reading Demon Copperhead.

I’m trying to find my voice, amongst all of the ones that I have been before, as well as in the midst of all of the ones I appreciate. It is no easy task. I feel so many people cheering me on. I can just feel them. As if the entire universe is conspiring to help me accomplish this task. The critic is nearly banished. Can that even be real? Is anything real?

This little blinking cursor beckoning me to continue, forward, and ever more forward. That’s real.

Take a Picture by Filter is on. This awesome rock music from my younger days is for sure real.

The life where I have a house that feels like a home and is filled with people in it who love one another and are really amazing humans to live with. That’s real! We are getting a hot tub tomorrow. That’s exciting, and also real. I hope it helps the aching joints and muscles.

Which reminds me part of why I got on here in the first place was to update my document with my to do list for tomorrow and emailing my GI doctor is on it. I was recently put on a higher dose of my medication due to it not quite hitting the mark. But to that I say good day and no way. I felt like shit. So basically it’s every two weeks, or we are gonna have to try something else. Nope.

What I really want is to not be on this medication. Which is why I am meeting with a nutritionist this week to get things in a direction of being able to do this at least as much naturally as I can. I’m tired of being on this stuff. I am ready to eat better and live better and invest in myself in ways I have not had the peace or finances in my life to do before. Oh Is This Love by Whitesnake is on, be still my heart. I literally love this station.

Being myself. It’s time. Finding my unique voice out of the sea of others. I have everything I need to do so at this point.

I was reading Jay Shetty this morning and his Eight Rules of Love. I really like it so far and he was talking about the difference between alone and solitude. The latter being something you find joy in because it helps you connect with yourself essentially. That has been my mission for the better part of eight years now. A little hard to do with my life, family life.

So a lot of what I’m doing lately is working at finding that balance. Trial and error and usually more error than trial 😉

Anyway my bladder only has enough time left for me to pack up and get home and then I’ll see about posting this. It’s the first post I’ve written from this laptop. I could get used to this. Now I just need to see if I can add my photos, tags, and things the way I usually do it. I normally use my phone to write. Somehow it’s just less pressure or something, and I know how to use my app.

I would describe me right now full and blank. I just keep drawing blanks, especially when I try to access my feelings. I am present and with them, but putting them down, sometimes that feels like too much work? vulnerable? too much what?

Stay Tuned…..

Posted on

Making Amends with Myself, the Primary Source….

How Do You Block the Sound of a Voice You’d Know Anywhere….

Lisa Loeb Wishing Heart and Jan Arden Insensitive are taking me back today….

I have a bad sinus cold. I woke up this morning with my head pounding, sensitive to light and sound and essentially everything. I debated strongly what course of action to take, ie migraine pill because it feels like that, but I know it’s sinus pressure.

I opted for severe sinus med and it definitely lightened the suffering though it’s there behind the pill. I don’t want to take an antibiotic if I don’t have to. It wipes out any good gut bacteria I manage to have and causes whole other issues. So there’s that.

I’m seriously reflective right now. Very within. Integrating the changes from these past years. The holidays brought forth lots of grief. All of the lost dreams. It’s not as doom and gloom as it sounds, well it is and isn’t.

It isn’t because I am faithful these days to a belief that all of these are threads in a tapestry of my life and all are sacred, even the more coarse fibers.

I am understanding my self better, which helps me to understand others better. I’m doing this in all areas and in past and present relationships.

It’s a softening.

Will I be thawing forever?

The answer in so many ways is a resounding yes. What’s different is the resentment. I no long resent this as much, that is becoming a holding it sacred as part of my path. Who even am I?! Oh hey heyoka. If that’s the name for a deep spiritual being that can hardly believe that’s a real thing and not some grandiose fantasy. It sounds ridiculous and self aggrandizing. We only believe what we can see and touch, because anything else never showed up.

I’m not behaving as if I’m living in a fantasy. My feet are firmly planted and I’m addressing myself and my needs and learning to communicate. I am learning. It’s not easy for me. Yep it’s not the other person, it’s me, just as much. Humble pie. I own my things, and own them specifically and follow through with change however and I was always capable of that. That was always possible under the right conditions and I am not responsible for the right conditions. I made my hard decisions.

I can trust that because when push comes to shove afraid or not I act with integrity. Scared or not. That is trustworthy. So when am I going to start valuing myself in that way?! Love HER Christina, choose her. She deserves and is worthy of your love. Stop fearing her, she has always meant well and tried hard and course corrected when it has been necessary without relying on manipulation.

I never relied on manipulation. When I recognized that’s what I was doing I owned it and changed and had empathy for those hurt.

Empathy without boundaries is self destruction. Yes it is. Never again. Boundaries are king and everything will be as it should because those are water tight. Crystal clear boundaries she said, a therapist from another life. Able to protect even when that was a difficult balance. Crystal clear boundaries Christina.

I remember every single thing that is important to know. Not protected by a narrative, but cloaked in taking the time I need to make the decisions that are best for me and learning how to be more than a coping strategy.

Meeting myself. Falling in love, or at least like. Sometimes love can be very overwhelming.

I am observing myself in absolute shut downs and freezes and then watching what brings me back and what shuts me down further.

I have slowed down enough that I am able to be seen, only because I am seeing myself, not only in that terrible polarity of good or bad, right or wrong. But in all of the richness and complexity I deserve. Did you hear that?! Wow.

I did. And my eyes are wet.

They thaw over and over as my heart does as well.

My head is exploding I’m going to freak out! No I’m not. My adult self will take myself to the walk in later and get on some antibiotics and trust the rest. I’ve had this pain for three days. I rearranged my day to only have a 12, and 1 and moved the rest. So I can just crawl in bed and relax. I think it’s time to also take the migraine pill. I think it’s both 🙁

It’s so painful these realizations of the way I’ve seen things so backwards and tangled with my kids and how misunderstood I’ve felt, and not being able to clear those up. I can’t believe how I’ve lived like this all this time. So separate from myself and those I love and just as a harsh executioner. Reactive, ready to jump on any sign of dissension.

I was reacting to my children all the time, when I didn’t feel in control. And shocker I’m not in control of anything, but myself now. Jesus it was about time. In the immortal words of Elizabeth Gilbert. You never really had control anyway, all you had was anxiety. Yes Liz. Thank you for being a beacon when I am lost.

How I have needed to be in control for safety. I am the things I’ve accused of and I see so much more softly now. Of myself and others and the glaciers just thaw and thaw.

What will emerge ? As I no longer reside in a story or rely on the same coping mechanisms.

It’s absolutely terrifying being in a transformation. Dying over and over. Things are so clear at least and that is a relief. and there is also so much to sit with. To make friends with.

I’m fighting to trust myself. That is my biggest area of work right now. My perception, my own ability to feel my feelings in real time, rather than a year later. That the things I say and do will not hurt me let alone another. I’m juggling so many plates in the air all the time and working at being entirely different when overwhelmed.

The tool I’m employing most often is empathy and having been so far removed from my own for myself for so long I’m wondering how the new fresh oxygen will integrate: was I without it for too long? Is the damage too great?

I’m only just beginning to peel back the layers. To not use usual coping strategies and patterns. To know what is and what is not that.

My heart is opening and softening, but I’m still an anemone. At the slightest sign of danger I close up tightly and it’s frustrating feeling so emotionally handicapped. Stunted, frozen, cold.

I am going through those things, but I am not those things. This is quite possibly one of the biggest changes inside to date.

I’ve misunderstood myself so catastrophically for so long, that finding understanding now is almost unbearable. It’s unbearably different than what I am used to.

To stop misunderstanding others, my children. My SELF.

The one safe space I understand well contained into an hour long appointment with my acute and honed ability focused and objectivity at my disposal I cling tightly to my gift to keep me steady, and it does.

Then I adjust my narrative not to pathologize that somehow, and then I do that in every other area of my life.

I am naked right now.

And I’ve never been like this before. My eyes are wet again.

The breaking and building.

My bones are powder….

At least I am not a powder keg anymore.

My heart is an ocean

One of those lovely ones that are clear blue and contain no sharks. A safe ocean.

It used to be safe for others, but not for me….

That is different now. I am different now. I am soft and scared and sacred and new and old at the same time.

My head hurts so bad…..

I just want to snuggle into my covers and cry and listen to the last two hours of Evelyn Hugo. But first a bath, a rally and showtime for two hours.

My sessions deepen as I do, and as my understanding of myself does, and my forgiveness of myself….

Onward

Ps one moment of truly being seen to the core, I have found, can thaw the thickest ice. The person opens right back up and becomes present in that safety. The person so often lately doing that, is me.

I am told I am that for so many others, but I wasn’t doing that for myself. I’m so surprised when someone sees me and so used to living without it.

You gave me oxygen then removed it, over and over until I begged for an end. In the end I made it myself.

That was just the beginning, as often is with transformations. Now the integration and not knowing whether the organ will be accepted or rejected.

Stay tuned

Posted on

Deep Understanding Sought on Rainy Day Walks

“In Your Wildest Dreams”

I’m learning ….. that

I always need to have an exit strategy which includes an exit narrative and I’m working out the difference between that and a balanced look at things. It’s not easy work.

It’s dark out and gloomy, but I don’t feel that way. My storms are calm. For now.

“But I’d follow you to the great unknown. Off to a world we’d call our own.” I want to watch this movie. It’s been awhile. That and the movie UP are on my mind. This blog is my attempt to not lose myself in the fray.

I am lost, I am found. I’m a walking contradiction that’s hard to be around.

No.

So many changes around me and the seasons are the least of it. “So I’d risk it all just to be with you.” Yeah did that. Not anymore. I wouldn’t risk the stability of my kids and I for anything again. I have to work daily at self forgiveness. It becomes a way of life, not some singular moment.

Forgiveness and compassion for self. It starts there, and I learned very little of it. I have to start from scratch.

Yes.

Left right left right. One foot in front of another. The most simple part of my day. Me with me. Walking.

Gentle walking. Tears falling. Tension releasing. Surrender walking. White flag walking. Calm talking. Rhythmic rocking. No tik tokking. Lol. Have to play a little. A little lighter.

The rain begins to fall. I don’t know it all.

When I don’t I’m not safe. You try it the way I’ve had it and see how you do.

Coming to grips blow by blow continuously seeking flow.

Here comes the rain. Don’t know how hard it will be. Will I drown?!

One mile is pretty good for a migraine day. One migraine for a holiday month is pretty good. My stats are going pretty well. Maybe I’ll make it two, you never know.

But I do.

It’s only rainy not raining, not pouring. The difference is important. Nuance is important. Understanding is important. Black and white is dangerous.

Just breathe Christina. Breathe. The only thing you need to do is be yourself, who you truly are, and be honest about that, and what you want and need.

Why is that so fucking hard.

You know why.

You’re seeing my chat with my higher self in real time. It’s ok to have an exit strategy, but decide what the criteria is for using it or not. You get to decide. You don’t have to decide: you get to. It’s a privilege, not your sole responsibility. It never was.

What I Have. Kelsea Ballerini. Cuz I got a roof over my head, I’m doing alright right where I’m at with what I have.

The simple things like making a stir fry on a rainy day. Simplify. When all your mind does is complicate, simple is bliss.

One more loop. One more mile. One more tear slips down my face. One more epiphany. One more day of life at least. It’s not a burden it’s a gift. You’re not bad Christina. Not emotionally uncaring or shut down or cold. Unclench.

It’ll be ok. How do you want me to believe that when it never was. Let alone want me to say that to you. I don’t know how. Help me.

Have you ever actually been unsafe?!

You don’t have to be to feel that way I’m learning. The mind can play cruel tricks, but it can also heal.

A beautiful mind and a wounded heart are a difficult combination.

Gifted but only in the right places. Threatening in others.

I’m not bad. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t yours either.

Misunderstandings are a prison. Don’t let your mind be.

Plant a garden. You plant so many flowers. All of my plants die. Argue argue argue.

Minds a mess. A mind at rest.

Lay with me….

B12 injection in Fairfield. So many memories there. My first office. It took so long to feel real. Like that was my life and not a fantasy.

Surreal every day. Until the truth finally sets in. It takes so long for that to happen.

It takes all the consistency there never was, and follow through on the build.

Don’t abandon this project, she’s going to be great. She always was.

The world may, you may, but I never will. I’m right here.

These days I’m working on my relationship with myself. It requires a lot of healing and many optimal conditions for that.

My heart requires it.

So if you want a place at this table inquire within if you can be congruent without.

Meet me here if you dare.

More art. Less war. Open heart on firm ground.

Kiss me

But only if you know me, see me, understand me….