Tag: #wellness

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The present of presence….

I don’t think most people realize that presence is a privilege. I’m here to tell you it is.

Learning to listen to my children has become one of my greatest triumphs to consistently strive for. Given the world I came from and so many automated switches that shut me down it is nothing short of miraculous. Truly. This isn’t black and white, all or nothing. It’s ebbs and flows. Sometimes I’m a better listener than others, but always I care enough to try and follow through with a repair.

Now I do. Yes now, because now is when I am able. I wasn’t before and that is the reality and as long as I allow space for their feelings around this we will be ok. Everything else can be figured out.

Everything else genuinely figures itself out as long as the secure attachment moorings are in place.

I guess that’s why so much of my life took so long to recover/uncover.

The Mother’s Day triggers are in full effect. It’s coming. Winter is coming. No matter how many times well meaning people instruct me to focus on this day in terms of who I am you cannot remove my pain from me, nor should you. Pain demands to be felt. If we don’t feel it, deal with it, and heal it, it spreads like cancer to those around us in the form of our treatment of them. Sigh

I’ve been going since 5 am today. I had a GI apt at 8 am. Labs are good all is well. I need to get my good and bad cholesterol a little better on each number, but total isn’t bad. I just need to exercise more and for my mental health as well. I start so many things that I don’t finish. Story of my life. And now my teenage son is struggling with this as well.

I imagine follow through is a universal problem, as well as getting our priorities straight. An art that takes a lifetime to craft, and maybe that’s the beauty of it all.

Some things however are consistent. Like how I feel when I drive onto Belmont Street and begin to see the water. Every part of my body smiles. Similarly to when I hear the piano or a vocalist that I love. Or when I feel that right touch in just the right way and every part of me sings and dances. The things worth living for. I just have to keep fighting for that.

When my writer self crafts that perfect sentence that just lands. There’s no feeling like it.

Funny I came here to talk about the pain associated with Mother’s Day and how we should learn to respond to people in a way that creates space for them, and many other things and what I find is my appreciation for beauty instead. Evolution.

I have lots to talk about in terms of life’s lessons. As I watch my kids learn them. I cut so many corners not reflecting my degree of conscientiousness, but rather my need for survival in so many areas. Can the clean up be delicious rather than the tragedy the pain sometimes makes it?

You can tell I’m busy by my scattered thoughts. I keep getting interrupted by calls for medical things. It’s a full time job by itself keeping care of a body. How does anyone even function?

For future blogging will be pool ownership pitfalls and probably more Mom shit. I mean does that ever end really ? I’m anxious. I’m anxious about a medical procedure tomorrow and the after. I’m nervous and secure. An anxious secure LOL. How can I ever be lonely when I entertain myself so well?!

I was doing some cleaning in my office this morning and I’m going over old letters that my kids have written me…. one in particular about how “you would think it’s really great to have a mom as a therapist”…. and all they want is my presence, the one thing I didn’t even have for myself. My own presence. Could it actually be a present?

Stay tuned …..

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The Infinite Sadness

Today was a beautiful really good day in so many ways. Today was a beautiful really hard day in so many ways. My heart is broken and I’m beginning to wonder if things will ever feel better again. If there will ever be that naïveté and zest for living encapsulated in the trapped childhood parts I was left with. Now that they have integrated my life feels so bland sometimes.

I’m always aware of how grateful I am. This is the longest I’ve really ever gone without feeling secured by being a part of something bigger, a family, someone else’s family. As well as having a relationship I am working on with a partner. Nothing eases the ache of loneliness. No amount of me saying how ok I am. I’m not ok. And any end to this pain never seems in sight because I’ve outgrown coping mechanisms that would allow me to accept anything less than two feet in and someone willing to do the work.

It feels like I’m going to be alone forever. There’s a thousand things in a day I want to be sharing. And then I give up and just go numb and try to busy myself, which doesn’t work either because I’m always acutely aware I’m numb.

I have everything anyone could want. I’m fulfilled. I love my found family, my friends, my family that is the kids and I. Our home, our pets, my little habits and routines. I’m doing so many good things right now, but at the end of the day there isn’t that consistent routine with someone that makes living worthwhile.

“For me it was always going to be about love” from About Time. I think in many ways people are who they are. You can analyze all day long, but those who are about love are about love. For the last year I’ve imagined what it would be like to have love where it’s just myself and that other person and it’s ours. I watch these movies and I get angry. I get angry about the fault lines in me that I didn’t know were there.

Sad and angry, sad and angry, get back up and keep going… and the cycle repeats. I always wanted the kind of love that stays, to have it, to be it. I’m so angry about what the trauma did to my brain. The broken speed and trajectory at which I have lived. I know I can’t be mad at my story and embrace it, but right now it aches and I am raw.

I go all day, fairly positive and it’s easy to be engaged because I love my work and my life. At night it’s the worst. I beg to be tired enough to fall asleep so I can have some rest, and look forward to my coffee and morning writing routine.

Then I resent having to ever get out of that warm safe bubble to do hard things like figure out taxes and pay bills and decide what to spend money on and what not to. It’s monotonous and altogether not worth anything without love. I’m pretty sure this is who I am and not just being co-dependent.

I have all these Gottman couple things, cards etc books things and no relationship to practice them inside. How did it ever become a fantasy for it to be just me and another person fully devoted with no bullshit. And how is that fair when I had it and…. that’s pointless at this point because being hard on oneself never helped anyone. Something I am learning.

I did appreciate that relationship for every second it existed until things in my life changed so swiftly. I can go back and say I wish I did differently but that just helps nothing. I’ve learned so much I can’t unlearn and that was necessary either way. Does it have to come with so much suffering? Apparently yes.

I have new relationships with my kids I never had before. Every day is pretty much a new kind of hard. But little by little we are figuring it out. I’m engaged and present and managing my overwhelm most of the time and connected in new ways.

But when I’m alone at night it just burns. It feels like burning alive every single night. Sometimes I’m in so much pain I wonder if I’ll even wake up. Sometimes it swallows me. It just never takes my enthusiasm for living: Thank God. Though some days it’s easier to find than others.

Right now my eyes are burning with tears and I just want sleep to gather me in her arms and tell me we are going to be ok. The tears stream gently down. Don’t they ever run out?!

I’m so much more irritable and sensitive and reactive and just a lot of things without some of my most vital needs met. I can meet them if I want, but it doesn’t replace the art of relationship. Navigating parenting is difficult under the best of circumstances and I’ve been under the worst for a long time.

I just want a glimmer is that too much to ask. I can’t even be miserable my life is blessed and fulfilling and I’m happy in so many new ways. But all this love and energy with no place to go eats me alive sometimes. It sits like a stone in my stomach. All these memories of so many things play on loop.

Oh good it’s almost 9; that means I can finally fall asleep and I won’t wake up at 3, 4 and 5 respectively. Tomorrow is a very long day. I have a series of doctors appointments, my first mammogram, errands for a procedure on Tuesday and 7 clients I believe.

Please take this pain … I’m shocked that pain like this doesn’t kill you…… mr sandman bring me a dream.

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Attachment and Boundaries or Sophie and Our New Vows

Sophie and kisses

There are many gains and losses in my life right now. A mark of transition. It’s Siggy’s birthday today. Our beloved Frenchie. His time with us was way too short, and also very deep. He was glue and laughs and so many things for us for a period in our lives. He was a long time childhood dream dating back to mr Magoo and whatever cop show had that bulldog in the office. A reminder I’ll always keep working at bringing my dreams and longings to life.

Our family attachment connections sometimes feel so short. Attach, detach, learn. Always determined to see how I have it wrong, and these days I’m trying to see what I’ve gotten right and to write about it. 😉 see what I did there.

I have Sophie at the dog park today. Sophie is our German Shorthair Pointer puppy. As per usual I had a romantic notion of how this attachment would help our family grow closer. Spoiler: we almost murdered each other during the puppy phase. Lots of miscommunication and a mother who was barely breathing. Not present at all. Resentments mounted, the troops revolted. And I’d like to think mom got her shit together.

Well ok mom is getting her shit together. The lack of consistency (among other things) with Sophie has led to the potential of RE homing her being in the best interest of her due to my chronic illness and already being over scheduled and under present in a variety of ways. My kids took the more wise adult approach to this. Mom it’s what’s best for the dog. And yet I couldn’t quite get on board with that.

You see I’ve forgotten my true self inside all of the losses this past time. Perhaps my whole life. And we are getting an introduction now. And I refuse to have another attachment fracture or believe it’s in the best interest of the dog. So one step at a time I’m going to learn to be a good dog parent to Sophie and get her needs met, just like I’ve done with my children. It’s not perfect but it’s ours and lately I’m seeing more fruit and less labor. Thank the Lord because these old bones are aching and cracking as the new ones take their place. I insist upon believing I can regenerate myself. If Liz Gilbert and all my hero’s can then do can I.

Wake me up inside ! I’m awake and alive and not going down without a fight.

You look wonderful tonight. What a beautiful song. I rewarded myself with nails after the muddy dog park. Touch. Bliss.

Anyway so we are rising to occasions around here. All of us. This gives me pause to acknowledge some of the things I’ve done right. My kids. My kids are kind to people. Warm welcoming versus distrusting and ever the victim of something, or any other defense we develop in response to pain. They will have to work through some fawn trauma responses I’m quite sure and some unmet needs and the resulting stories. I have no doubt in my mind that they will, and this is a new place for me. My mind could be described as a mine field of self doubt and horror for most of it. And I’m working my way out of that now.

As it turns out healthy boundaries are the main ingredient I see in terms of getting in alignment with our purpose. I’m reading Dr. Nicole Lepera’s aka The Holistic Psychologist new book. How to do the work. I am always shocked to find I could have written this book, and I’m threatened to tumble into a familiar despair of feeling somehow behind the mark. Why is that the immediate reaction? I just still haven’t figured out my own voice amongst all these others. Everyone else always seems to do it better, and that’s because I’ve been invisible to myself.

A couple of days ago it was lesbian visibility day, and today I’ll make it my own personal day to celebrate all my other identifying visibilities. And everyday forward, from now on. I’m simply tired of the stories I’ve been holding about myself, and the tremendous power that has had over my choices and quality of life.

Out and proud and open and proud and warm and proud and gentle and proud and loud and proud and quiet and proud. Just proud. I’m so proud of the resilience of my tiny family and how we get back up after life brings us to our knees. I will not separate myself as the enemy or the bad guy especially with my own children. We are more on the same journey than a separate one. Could have saved myself so much suffering if I knew this before, but as they say no mud no lotus.

There’s been enough mud to breed a field of lotus. I don’t think there’s a plural of this word, would it be loti? LOL. Silly.

Anyway … which is part of my southern vernacular by the way, such as anywho….. meaning onward. Which I guess means the opposite of stay. Can you do both? I think so.

Speaking of this a quick mention about boundaries as I talk about this daily in my psychotherapy practice. It’s interesting to me how misunderstood this concept is. It can so easily become an aspect of toxic positivity rhetoric. Such as someone has triggered me therefore I’m going to place a boundary “on them” versus already knowing your own boundaries, usually from hard lessons in my experience.

You don’t put boundaries on someone and you don’t move boundaries for someone, no matter how good they feel. Know thyself and know thy boundaries and suffer less. Period. When you argue with yourself you inevitably suffer and your body has many flags it waves at you to let you know you’re out of bounds. Your bowels will tell you, your sweatiness will tell you, your bones and muscles and everything in between will tell you. Learn to listen. Listening is everything….and to act accordingly and follow through.

I’m an emotional physical therapist (I wanted to say chiropractor, but they address the symptom not the root so we can’t identify with that) and I hope to be. And a lyrical wizard. A word nerd after a favorite writer of mine…. and it’s time for some re branding I think, as excavations continue……

My commitment to me …. my vow…. my word….. which needs to mean something…is to stay with my comfort and to stay with my discomfort. To acknowledge all of me is desirable and lovable and to never abandon her.

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The Dynamic of Transcendence

Heaven and hell is what exists on earth depending on the choices we make.

I remember as a child listening to the song that says ooh heaven is a place on earth, Belinda Carlisle. I liked that song.

I am thinking this morning in my 40th year, how many decisions of my life I’ve made based on trying to ascertain what was good or bad.

What was good or bad inside of me, who is good or bad. I have a lot of awareness about where this came from, but I focus more on that than how it affects my decision making now.

I was raised very religious and it has taken me a long time to decide what of those lessons I believe, what I don’t.

It’s all very overwhelming.

Here are some of the things I am realizing. All of the constructs in the Bible are all lessons or rules to be applied to humanity.

All portrayal of evil in horror movies or in the Bible respectively, the battles of good and evil, are battles of human beings in an attempt to transcend their own humanity (for whatever reason lies within their belief system), their own wounds, patterns of behavior and conditioning, and the fault lines laid down before they ever had a choice in the matter.

Later in life I attempted to ascribe to an integrative approach, light and dark, parts work. This is certainly more effective, but harder to stay consistent in because it is less rigid and defined.

Angels and demons, Good and evil, are all just stories about various human experiences in the ways we choose interpret and respond to them.

Heaven and hell are both places on earth, they are state of existence depending on our choices. To trust oneself is heaven, to perpetually doubt oneself is hell.

To be in a trusting loving relationship with mutual respect and good communication is heaven. To be in a relationship filled with manipulation and deceit, circular argument of which the goal is to be in control or get one’s way, is hell.

To have an exorcism, is to remove from oneself The patterns of thinking and behavior that cause a person to exploit another for their own benefit.

All the horror movies you have ever seen are literally just graphic representations of lost battles between a human being and them self. They lost the battle for discipline and to work hard at changing the things in themselves that could make them have a better existence, and they settle on low vibrational behaviors that harm others.

There are three sides to every story is an interesting phrase. Yours, mine, and the truth. Supposing there is one objective truth that could be figured out. Reality is that each person’s lived experience is their own story, and life itself is truly the unreliable narrator.

I have spent so much of my life trying to figure out what is right and wrong, what is my own reality, and having such a struggle in doing that, so much resulting anxiety. I state out loud firmly a desire or intention and then try desperately to live it. All good intentions, but I had poor attention to the details that mattered most before I made these statements.

If we boil it down to qualities of character, a strong character interested in the greater good of those involved with them, and seeking the truth at all costs of comfort, not exploiting anybody else in the process, is something I can be satisfied with.

To move forward I had to find a level of satisfaction where there was none. There could be no satisfaction amidst heinous acts and betrayal.

I have betrayed myself so many times to try and be accepted, Found to be lovable and loving, and to belong.

The unmet needs bubbling underneath the surface from my childhood threatened to always undermine my dreams. This is the battle I have always fought.

In the process of this fight I have emerged an advocate for myself and others. While I still do not know the breadth and depth of this work, it is emerging as a result of the process.

Today I close this book of the first half of my life, and I open a new one with a fresh pen and paper, and thankfully perspective.

I set forth with a realistic set of expectations for myself and others, and strive for people to have safety and warmth when they are near me, and that I am able to find those things in the assessment of my self.

I haven’t been able to capture my story on the page yet, anymore than here, as if that is not enough. Because I am the living story, and well life may be the unreliable narrator, however I choose not to be an unreliable character in it.

This is taken the most work for me. To say what I mean, and mean what I say, and organize myself so I can be satisfied with my existence while I have breath in my lungs.

I am currently reading the book the language of emotions. 

The Language of Emotions: What Your Feelings Are Trying to Tell You https://www.amazon.com/dp/1591797691/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glt_fabc_6HX4BF6V14NAZGYQ2JE7

It is like listening to my self talk. I have just begun and I am reading it slowly and digesting each part before moving onto the next thing. Something I was never capable of doing before. I am treating my body with the respect and love it has always deserved, listening to what it needs, and slowly and carefully making those changes. This alone has increased my comfort and confidence inside myself, in the world.

All or nothing never was sustainable or accomplished any of the things I was so determined toward. Determination is important, but it needs to be balanced by consistency and discipline. 

I am learning those one step at a time…

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If I had it to do over

If I had it to do over… an open letter about the effects of my trauma on my children.

Lately so many things are clear and it’s left a lot of truth that’s difficult to sit in. College planning meetings for my Junior twin daughters is illuminating certain things.

I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for my whole life and lately I’ve been letting it out, cautiously.

I never realized how much anxiety I had and how much of my life was governed by trauma. I thought I was the boss of me. I was but as it turns out not such a nice one. When you are your own parent, for me I made a harsh one to keep me out of what I came from. That’s the best I could do.

My own parent and then their parent has me exhausted in ways that someone never should be, and all of that has impacted them. For better and for worse.

I wake up and realize my children all took honors classes and did well. They have all earned the ability to go to college and the privilege of spending some years just discovering who they are. My heart hurts at my own pain of this line, and also the pain I’ve caused.

I am humbled and I’ve been forced to stop shaming myself because ultimately it’s not productive and not the only way to get myself into action.

The song From Now On from the Greatest Showman, has been my go to lately. One right step in front of the other. Full presence with myself and my children, and the rest will figure itself out.

I cry a lot lately. There’s a lot of grief in here.

The piano tuner, a friend of my teacher, will be here at 9 am. I’m excited about that. Maybe it will get me to practice. And I’m going to have lunch with my son.

What has emerged once I finally stopped scrambling wildly in panic is someone who does want to be present and focused on her kids. I always did. Just the best I could do at the time was supporting them in all the other ways, emotionally I wasn’t available to myself. So afraid of being a refrigerator mother or doing something awful like mine I stayed frozen, away from their love too and joy even.

Over the years I’ve been thawing. If you pull someone too quickly from the ice they brought down through they will die. You have to let them adjust slowly.

My thaw has been excruciating. I’ve been living in this pain all of this time and still functioning and I’ve hurt people along the way, especially myself. And I’ve done a lot of good too. My heart is always in the right place but my god I make mistakes.

And right on cue Andy Grammer comes on singing I will fight for you. Watching Five Feet Apart resonates lately because I too have been fighting for my life, to get my spirit and soul back and connected to my body. To feel safe. But it wasn’t visible. So painful.

So I can really take in how beautiful my children are and this life is. What even is that to be privileged to see life this way? To think calmly. My eyes well up as I write this.

All I can do is show up. That’s what I’m doing right now. Not talking about it doing it, because it’s the right thing for me, because I feel it. I had to show up for me first, not the act of selfishness it can appear. It was something else. Something hard to explain or understand but real nevertheless.

Showing up, one interaction at a time with presence, support, warmth, attachment, encouragement. This is what the reduction in panic has given way to.

I am here and I’ll love you fiercely. I had to claim me first and I had to figure out how to do that.

I will be here the rest of your lives cheering you on and watching you.

I am your biggest fan…..

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Rules for Loving a Trauma Survivor

This post needs some editing, but I wanted to get it out into the world for now while it is under construction.

To Really Love a Woman (Person)

It’s hard to admit for someone that they need “special instructions”. Especially when society ingrains in us the idea that there is a right and a wrong way. From the time we are socialized in grade and middle school we are separated into factions of varying degrees of cool (worthiness). So this way of categorizing ourselves and the rules of engagement are laid down early on. It is difficult later in life to deviate from our various functioning and upgrade our systems taking into account what wounds our lives have bestowed upon us.

I often joke about being a gremlin, lol. I have special rules. I am privileged to be able to joke about this now. The work I have been able to do is a privilege that not everyone is able to obtain the means for, whether that be financially, intellectually, or circumstantially.

Trauma survivors are a different breed. As a member of this tribe I will try to speak for us in this regard. We love differently and in turn need to be loved differently. So here are some of the things I have learned about myself through my experiences with others.

A trauma survivor learns to be invisible, especially to ourselves. We have become so accustomed to not having our needs met naturally, that we get really good at meeting them ourselves. This also creates a special kind of tired, a soul tired, that can hardly be put into words. Sometimes it can be seen in the eyes. I have a theory that rarely do two survivors get together and join because perhaps they are both so depleted, or maybe the nurturing that would take place could be easily rejected in favor of something that feels more like home. And that if and when they do sometimes they can fall into over indulgences of such comforts. Who knew there ever was such a thing. I believe now that there is.

You have to emerge from that solace and return to yourself and the gift you’re meant to be to the world. We have a mission. We were chosen to have the childhoods and the paths we did for a reason. This is what I’m thinking lately anyway. The theories are works in progress.

Survivors become carefully attuned instruments in anticipating the needs of others and trying to give to them what we didn’t receive. We will usually know what you need before you do. This can make great partners out of us in the right circumstances, and a really difficult situation in the wrong ones. Because we also have a lot of hurt buried deeply within us that can flare up at the slightest hairpin trigger. The less secure our world is in terms of consistency and love the less emotionally regulated. Then the survivor is shamed for their behaviors, when the rest of the world wonders why or how they could act like that.

What you must understand about a survivor is that there have been times in their life when things have felt like life or death. Particularly in childhood when they had no agency or control over the terror that was occurring. This is different for everyone. What is terrifying for one may not be for another. So it’s not only difficult but also unfair to try and assess the worthiness of the claim on someone’s trauma. If it impacted the person significantly, particularly if it causes them to struggle throughout their lives, and feels more like a reflex than a logical decision it can justifiably be claimed as trauma.

Which brings me to my next important point. Survivors almost always minimize not only their own needs, but their own reality. They spin their wheels trying to make sense of what’s happening and to know whether they can trust or not. If very little to no trust was ever had, how are we expected to just behave that way now. This makes survivors much more likely to accept and adapt to unhealthy relationships. We are used to subsisting off very little if nothing, and very happy to be grateful for very little. Which can give you a positive attitude about life and a nice presence to be around, but lacks in the areas of self-development and ability to advocate for our own needs. We weren’t allowed to have them, or there was no room for them. So making them obsolete ourselves was necessary at one point.

No one will love you like a trauma survivor. If you want to be loved by one you must not take us for granted. The way we have learned to love and the things we have needed to overcome to be able to were not easily gained. It is typically through suffering that such a generous heart is formed.

We will pour our very soul into you. However, resentment can bubble up from all our unmet needs, as well as chronic anxiety and health issues that are stored within our body.

Survivors typically need more rest, reassurance, comfort, and stability than your average bear. This does not make us weak, in fact quite the opposite. Above all we need understanding, and someone to be willing to learn what our lives were like for us, and see past the over-functioning we are so used to.

Never take a survivor for granted, we can see you in ways, and bring things out in you that you were never aware existed.

Understand that when a survivor is choked up or cannot get the words out, we are most likely stuck inside a trauma reaction. The same applies for many other areas of functioning. Maybe it appears that we aren’t paying attention or present, try and ask gently, and you’re more likely to get a response. Study and learn about the Four F Trauma responses. Resource: Pete Walker Complex PTSD Information

Understand that attachment is different for the survivor and take the time to educate yourself on this if you want greater success in your relationship. Neither party should have blatant continued bad behavior excused, rather both should be responsible to educate themselves and know their own wants and needs, and have healthy boundaries. This isn’t easy for anyone. For the trauma wired person it can seem almost impossible, but with understanding, psycho education, therapy, and self-awareness and reflection we too can have healthy relationships. The expectations need adjusting though.

And above all things when you see our child, that little person who is still in here, pure and deserving of love; if we let our guard down enough to show you, never forget the cost to us, and the beauty involved in that. It is sacred for a survivor to allow themselves to be seen, and held. It can be a nearly impossible journey to accept.

When we advocate for what we need please listen to us, it’s likely we spent a long time without.

💪🏼💜

 

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Intentions and the Cosmos

“I am not a stranger to the dark, hide away they say, because we don’t want your broken parts. I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars, run away they say, because no one will love you as you are.”

Lately a great many things are shaken up in my life, in ways I never imagined. I’m finding a self I didn’t know, yet again. It calls into question everything. And when everything in your foundation is shaky it’s unsteady. My stomach is rumbling like the tectonic plates of my very foundation.

I’m always so sure about my truth. It speaks so loudly to me, but what it can never know is what the next day will bring and the next. To have an adventurous life you must be willing to continuously face down your fears. For me this is necessary.

As necessary as oxygen.

I have always been a seeker. A seeker whose main objective is security is making for an interesting cocktail. Obtain security then seek, obtain security, then seek. What if I had security from the beginning? I want to know who that person was too! I need to know her. It’s not a choice.

What I am finding is a security in myself that will keep me grounded and authentic to me at all costs and this is not a path for the faint of heart. This is loving my unloved child inside more than anyone else, because she needs it the most.

This isn’t a journey most can understand. It’s cold and lonely in here and yet on the outside everyone thinks I have it all figured out. One of the largest incongruences of my life. I’m human too.

Spoiler alert. I don’t. Not at all. But I am committed to my heart and my truth and recovering that little girl who deserved a real life full of love and support. This is my recovery.

This is me!!!! I could listen to this song and watch the beautiful dancing in this video a thousand times. It’s my song for 2020.

I’ve been shamed a thousand times during my life for my wounds, shamed instead of understood. And that pain has turned me into 100 percent heart. It’s open and it’s raw and if you want to see it just sit with me for an hour I will show you.

And if you’re my friend I will hold your heart with mine. And this is me. I cannot only be loved for what I provide others. I need to be loved for the very center of me, everything that has made me the things others benefit from.

The thing that wakes you up?! That’s a product of my suffering. It did not come cheap.

So here I am at 4 am, battling my Crohn’s Disease and holding my hurting heart. Zofran, toast, ginger tea, my trusty laptop and journal by my side. I’ve lost 10 lbs since Christmas, there is nothing easy about this.

“I am brave, I am bruised, this is who I’m meant to be. I’m not scared to be seen I make no apologies, this is me.”

This last year in my 30’s is mine. I don’t want to heal at anyone else’s expense, but I’m also not willing to help someone heal at the expense of me. I’m not sure what that looks like yet, but here are my intentions.

I intend to write about trauma, in a way no one else has before….. in my way. I intend to be more connected to my children than I ever have, and give them my wide open heart and presence. I intend to be still for me when I need to figure that out. I don’t have it figured out yet, but I intend to work on it.

I intend to discover and honor the body that has carried me this far. I let it take the brunt of the world. It needs to stretch and move with joy. It needs to release years of shame and being stifled and huddled terrified. It deserves to be nourished and cherished.

I intend to love bigger and harder than I ever have, and to always include myself in that equation.

“Look out because here I come. And I’m marching on to the beat I drum. I’m not scared to be seen and I make no apologies this is me.”

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Disconnectedly Yours….

Fun activity. Put on August’s Rhapsody from the movie August Rush. It’s eight minutes of various instrumental. Then write. I find myself writing to the rhythm and I get all different types of handwriting.

What do you think that means ?!

I’m very emotional today. I saw five clients back to back this morning and each session just filled me with humble gratitude for the human spirit. For the ability of people to keep going amidst terribly difficult circumstances.

The human spirit amazes me.

I have a blog post that’s been brewing all day, but I just haven’t had the words. Can you have words while you are also actively in reverence and awe!? Maybe the two don’t co-exist. Anyway I just keep opening up. More of the feeling parts of me that have been on ice coming to life. And with each one another blast of gratitude.

So today I am thinking of what you can boil almost anything down to. What do we all want? What is beneath all of the hurt feelings, the anger, the sadness, the numbing, the sarcasm, the protective mechanisms.

We all want to feel like we are attractive, safe, important, special, worthy. We want to belong and to be included. To feel necessary. And not knowing how to feel those things except externally keeps us oh so low and away from our true gifts. If you fear any of those things are not naturally meant for you or have a story or belief system that says otherwise, you will find proof everywhere of the opposite.

There are many ways we judge ourselves. It’s so hard to be a human being. There are many pressures, so many ways we can suffer, but the thing I keep seeing is how much of it we unwittingly cause ourselves. In an attempt to validate our experience as real and important, suffering seems to be the most logical. It’s the only thing that gives emergence perhaps to feel allowed to get our needs out.

I wonder how it could be made more natural? To talk vulnerably. If it’s possible as a human being to bypass that process. To accept ourselves, our anxieties, our flaws, quirks. To envelope the tenderness of our hearts.

We were never meant to be as hard as the world demands of us.

We are not meant for this. This much disconnect. This much overwhelm. This much busy. This much fear. Technology was supposed to be an advancement. I don’t think so. Some maybe. But this experience that’s happening, we are not meant for this.

The demands of the financial climate we are in. True human connected presence is declining and therefore so is joy, peace, kindness, warmth.

Nothing about America feels great right now. There’s more violence than there ever was when I was young. More intolerance of what we don’t understand. And at the personal level more people torturing those they love in the name of being worried about them. Without really knowing the real enemy. We are getting too much information from unreliable sources, and too little genuine education.

Kids are being tortured in terms of pressure about their futures. And social media has made an even larger romanticization of what is attractive. If you think advertising was bad, for a few minutes during a tv commercial. Imagine what endless scrolling will do.

I watch what it does to me. It’s a depressive behavior. I see the difference when I get up with only my notepad or take a walk, compared to being on my phone the first hour. Looking at other people’s lives and ideas and the sense there isn’t anything new to be done. It’s ironic because we do it to feel connected, but it does the opposite. It’s as numbing as any substance.

Anyway this kind of began to trail all over (as usual) and I have a hot date to get ready for…. so stay tuned….

My heart is raw, but it’s also ready. I am ready to find and be and speak some changes. I am ready to be brave, again, and again. Because that’s what living a full life requires.

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Childlike Enthusiasm

Despite my conflict about this medication how I am feeling on the regular is this crazy optimism for life. I wake up every single morning literally bounding with energy for what could happen throughout the day. What special thing? What human connection. What could happen today?

I have woken up (thawed out) to a childlike enthusiasm for living. And I’ll never go back to sleep from that. Now I just want to give from a place of abundance and fulfillment to anyone and everyone who feels as if they don’t belong in some way, are too much, are not enough, not worthy. I want to warm them up and thaw them out.

I realized yesterday it isn’t because I don’t have symptoms and lots of various health things anymore, it’s because I’m so well cared for.

Yesterday we watched my daughters soccer game. They beat their town rival for the first time in the history of JV soccer, both of them played wonderfully. It was cold out, and once the cold gets into me it’s very difficult to get out. My lips get purple, my hands and feet and nose are freezing and no amount of bundling typically helps. I used to become so afraid of this. It’s very unpleasant and it can’t be good right. My joints ache after. I’ve tried all sorts of things and had all sorts of testing.

Do you know what heals me the most?

Love.

Once I got into bed with my person she lovingly warms my hands and her touch brings me right back to life. I believe 100 percent if you allow yourself to receive from source (for me love and the earth) that you can heal. When I’m cold like that I also ache and all my muscles tighten up, and it can cause a migraine etc. Normally I go to such a fear space in my body and I’m in my head, and can’t get out.

She brings me right back to earth and safety.

My secret is you have to reach a place where you reduce down to the truly important things. Not getting caught up in whether your house looks nice, your body, various appearances. Whether you’re good enough (you’re good enough), make enough money, have enough time. There will never be “enough” of those things, but think of how much can be wasted with a skewed perspective.

As my fear melts away, there is just more and more beauty to bask in.

If you had seen my life you would absolutely wonder how. I truly believe like a stray that has found its forever home I live in constant gratitude for the tiniest things and it’s a constant ecstasy.

I never imagined you could have a relationship where you truly fall more in love every day. I dreamed of this, but then romanticized and become crushingly disappointed by continually picking the wrong fit because I couldn’t move slow enough to pay attention to the details.

Prior to this I chose partners who were no where near ready nor did they want to be responsible to a family unit. They fell in love the same way I did, with the idea of something and someone. Not truly knowing what they wanted out of their one precious life. It created love to be the battlefield from whence I came, and that pushed me toward illness, depression, fear, and longing even further.

When I met my wife I had already seen that she loved in partnership the way my value system works which is that love is prioritized above all things. The love itself is what continues to expand the dreams. Not resentment or playing out with each other the legacy of our family systems.

This love is bliss.

It’s interesting to watch others reactions to my shouting from the rooftops. Responses are often critical and judgmental such as “if you have to share it all the time on Facebook then…. and maybe you should be more private about it.” Or with skepticism or with behaving as if it’s corny to love this hard and talk about it. If this is your response you probably want to check in on your own unmet needs.

Well meaning advice from those who see their world quite differently. Also it means those people don’t understand me at all. How I work. That I delight in having permission to share my truths as often and as loudly as I like. That I was shushed often as a child and told that little girls are supposed to play quietly in the corner with their paper dolls, and that children are meant to be seen and not heard.

If they aren’t for you move along. I used to accept shame and judgment so easily. It used to make me crumble. I wanted so badly to belong and fit in, I did anything, sold my soul, again to people who weren’t ready to create a big life with me.

Keep your dreams at the forefront and your enthusiasm for living. I wonder how much I was born like this, and how much is my chosen perspective. I wake up wide awake at 6 am every morning with thousands of thoughts. I used to wake up with those being terror filled, and the day being a gauntlet of symptoms to survive and my own dark thinking of how badly everything could go. My mind can do dark things. I’ve lived in dark places.

The saving grace is my determination towards the light. I am fiercely protective of this life I am creating. I know that loss does not discriminate, and that I am not immune. And that I will feel the effects intensely. Which will only make the beautiful things that much more special.

I continue to keep warming my inner child and bringing her into myself and feeling whole.

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To Humira or not to Humira

So I’m trying to make a very big decision. Whether to come off of Humira or not. I’ve gone back and forth and back and forth for months, and here’s why. If you come off of a biologic it may never work for you again, and can throw you into a terrible flare. The burning question is however, did I even need it in the first place.

I’ve been taking Humira since around 2013. I was diagnosed with Crohns based on a scan suspecting appendicitis and a follow up colonoscopy. I still remember to this day my GI went back and forth with her diagnosis. The tissue sample came back acute not chronic, but she made the conclusion based on the films that I have Crohns.

I so willingly wanted an answer for my problems at that time. A variety of odd sensations in my body and a large level of discomfort and fatigue constantly. Heart palpitations, heavy periods, chest pains. I’ve had more heart tests than you can imagine. However, I was severely anxious and stressed, in the wrong relationship, and working way more than any human being should. I also wasn’t aware at this time or connected to the whole picture of my life. My traumas.

Now that I’m learning a much more holistic way to view pain in the body, especially through the lens of trauma I’m unconvinced that I should be on this sometimes deadly medication.

So one of the real questions is, did I forget ?! Did I forget how sick I was etc? I never had bleeding, or fistulas or major symptoms though mine was nearly all extra intestinal manifestations and completely anxiety which I didn’t want to be true or admit at that time. I wasn’t ready. I needed it to be “something real”, and now I know anxiety and trauma in the body are very real. It’s just when you seek medical help for anything they often only look through one lens.

So now that so many things in my life are more secure I have way less symptoms and when I do I take measures to heal my body naturally. I know I need to address how I eat for my body, and not just lean on Humira so I can eat what doesn’t serve me anyway.

I’ve been reading about many other approaches to medicine and my friend is also an acupuncturist and going to school for Chinese medicine, herbs and all that. And recently I came across this concept of “earthing”. www.earthing.com which came about from people looking at inflammation in the body and how it’s the primary source of this decades physical malady.

And then my skeptic and science brain, actually probably my Western medical natural background, says what if that’s all a bunch of crap. Which leads me to the big problem here.

Not knowing what to believe. I’m really challenged to fear I’m crazy by believing holistic versus the Dr in the shiny white coat who got her degree from Harvard. But then again is she truly just in it for the money? Have I been a victim of this drug? Or will I be?

I used to frequently wonder as a child how if there are so many religions which majorly different beliefs that you pick the right one. Since my perspective has become somewhat richer and more varied since then I know you can choose what you believe in. And I know as an existentialist I believe in the power that provides to each individual regardless of what belief they use.

But when it comes to East versus West in medicine, and philosophy versus skepticism, and faith versus facts; I’m a little lost. Do I get to just choose ? What if I choose wrong?

I’ve read and studied. I like this guy particularly https://drpompa.com/cellular-health/a-healthy-mindset-overcoming-crohns-and-colitis/ Dane Johnson. My amazing wife has bought the elemental shakes for me. And just like him my lifestyle is so busy that I eat worse and don’t stick to any of these things. He was on death’s doorstep and about to have his colon removed and then went to a naturopath.

Now I went to a naturopath once and she did the blood type diet, and the plan included lots of veggies that would have torn apart my gut. I was so lost. And no one in any of this took account the the trauma I have experienced in my life. The years it endured for, how I escaped from it, and the way all of that has significantly impacted the direction of my life in so many ways.

No one is looking at the whole picture here. But now I am. I’m just having trouble knowing what I have faith in. I do know that I have faith that you can heal your body with your mind, but for most in the throes of it this is so invalidating. Though it doesn’t have to be.

Enter, You Can Heal Your Life. www.healyourlife.com the brilliant work of Louise Hay, which I have had on my shelf from many a counseling conference and didn’t pay much mind (because it seemed to invalidate my disease) until recently. Recently I attended a workshop on energetic body types. https://blueheronhealing.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html?m=1

And one of her sources was Louise Hay as well as Earthing.

Now back to this idea of not knowing what to believe. Of course I don’t. I had a mother and an aunt and a set of grandparents that all bounced me around like a ping pong ball using me in tactical warfare, information finding, and often for their own devices. And being overly mature for my age, willing and energetic I delighted in any form of attention.

I developed a strong outer shell geared to receive praise, with an inner self that was a molten center of wholly unmet needs. I subconsciously froze that part away for safe keeping.

My body and outside persona was carefully crafted armor.

So it makes sense now when I’m frantically uncertain and can’t figure out what to do, especially when these stakes are so high.

I know I never want to stick that pen of poison into my abdomen again. I feel it with every part of my soul. But my constitution is built up of so much obedience from one of the only systems that I ever grew up around truly paying kind and attentive notice to me. The Western medical system.

I had severe asthma growing up, and was often in and out of the hospital. Louise Hay says this corresponds to not wanting to be alive, fear of being here, which absolutely makes sense given my mothers pregnancy with an older man and out of wedlock. And the chaos I was born into.

So later in my life when feeling utterly alone and crippled with (what I didn’t know was anxiety) I would seek so much medical attention. I have so many pictures of my ex partner in ER waiting rooms. And each test and visit eventually only led me to less validation and even to be considered a drug seeker when I’m terribly anxious to even take a Tylenol.

I now realize I was subconsciously doing that to feel special, important, loved, safe, etc. and that I still did not. Not being a mother, or a graduate, or any of the accomplishments I had attempted to busy my mind had resulted in this. That unmet need core of me still radiated out into my whole body.

What else could make an energetic curious outgoing child later turn into an adult who couldn’t raise her hand in class without her heart thumping so wildly against her chest she thought she might die. Also notice when it gets very vulnerable I’ll slip into language that suggests someone else and not me? That’s a thing too.

I’m piecing it all together as I’m gently healing all of my parts back together rather than being rough with them and demanding we have it together. I have to invite and ask and nurture myself.

This is healing and this is my journey.

I imagine myself on a vision quest and meditating and the answer coming, and then my logical brain scoffs at that. My spiritual brain and my logical brain are at war.