No chance of getting out today

View from the porch

A path through the backyard

From the middle of the street

From the middle of the street

Plane out stuck

Observations

I had to get out of the house last night
I just really really had to...
too much time to be stuck in a house with an ex-husband and 9 year old
So, in classic TP style, I jump in the car in the middle of the blizzard
I had "Kohl's Cash" (free money to spend at Kohls) and that's where I headed

Slid all over the road, but kept on going.
Figured if anything, I could get to Starbucks
Buttttttt it was closed
So onward to Kohls
Got to the parking lot, hadn't been plowed, but trudged on through
And, yes, it was open!
I basically had the whole store to myself
Those sales people are pretty giving when you're the only one around.
I found a $100+ handbag, perfect for my laptop and books and looking cute
It had no price tag...the lady gave it to me for $16...SIXTEEN!

The peeps decided they wanted pizza...and since I was out, what the heck.
So I headed to Unos...almost there...but right at the entrance...a car...stuck...
Poor guy...back and forth...back and forth...nothing...couldn't get up the hill
A line of about 5 cars waited...watched...the poor guy.
Finally...in my black heeled boots and puffy jacket...get out...and push
And yes...he made it back...but not forth...so we try again...and yes...forth...but not up
Ugh...we did this for 5-10 minutes...only then...did a man come out of his truck
He decided the he was going to take over...
Oh this got my goat...after sitting for 30 minutes warm in his car...watching..
This guy gets out and decides he needs to take charge...
Some other guy gets out...finally...and helps...
Helps? all they did was push the guy to the side of the road so that everyone could get through
They left him there...the poor guy...

I got my pizza...came back...and he was still there...no one around
I asked him if he wanted a ride...and wondered...what's happened to this world

The storm got worse and I headed back home. 
The highways were snowed..but I kept going...everything fine..
Until....I got to our steep half-mile hill...
my rear-wheel drive made it half way up...then nothing.
I pushed and pushed...back and forth...going up..literally inch by inch
Meanwhile, cars passed me...nicely up the hill.
Not one person stops to ask...not one.
I kept going though...cause I believed in my car...I really did
Like the little train...that car and I...we chanted, "I think  I can, I think I can"
My little car and I...just the two of us...chanting along...going inch by inch.
Cars honking by.

There were times I wanted to drop it all...leave my car on the side of the road..walk home
But I wouldn't...I couldn't...I thought I could
I looked at side streets...I dreamed of options...there were desperate cry-worthy moments
But...I kept putting my foot to the gas...letting go...pushing down again...
I developed a rhythm...push, let go, push, let go, sometimes reverse...
I'd get stuck..go in reverse...rock back and forth...on a steep steep hill
and then push again...let go, down on the gas, let go..
At times I ended up on the opposite side of the road...with oncoming traffic
but I kept going...on and on...push let go
this rhythm allowed the car to grip the road inches at a time...
It took me an hour or more to get to the top of that hill
But I made it...it made it...I knew I could.

I turn onto my street...100yrds from my home...and bam...stuck
This time truly truly stuck...I tried...but nothing I could do
A guy came out with a shovel...uncovered my wheels...
Andrew came out...he pushed...they pushed...I slid into the side of the road
And the car is still there.

I had therapy today...we dug and dug...I had to get there
But nothing...no hope...
I thought about how much this is like life.
All the phases...all the times the task seems unsurmountable...but I push...and get there
other times...the task seems simple..so close...100yrds away...and get irreversibly stuck
No way out.
I thought about getting to Kohls...making it through and getting a deal...
Helping others...
I thought about it all...how much it paralleled life...every step.
And I laughed....at all the observations...

They haven't gotten me very far...it will take me a while to process
I've got some cabin fever...today was another day of being stuck in the house
and, yes, I remain emotionally "stuck" too...
But...the fact that I made observations...again...made me feel somewhat close again.
Not yet myself...the old me would have made more of the observations.
But...observations are a start...

“Stuck” talk

Woke up this morning…
peeled my cheek off the drool-soaked pillow…yuk
Well actually woke up this afternoon…at 12:00
I slept 11.5 hours straight…literally…12:30 – 12:00
People usually say "Your body must have needed it!"
Maybe it did.
But, I think it was my mind that needed it…my heart…
My feelings needed a break.
So much emotionally controlled effort…energy…
I spewed it all out last night…on paper…and listening to my sister.
When I have the stomach flu, I eventually vomit…
it feels better…then I get sleepy.
That's how I felt last night.

Today I responded to all the birthday wishes on Facebook…
It made me smile to know people were thinking of me.
Of course, I minimized it…I mean….
Yes, they all said Happy Birthday….
but, for the love of God, they have a reminder on their screen
I tried to shut that part of me up.

Because, I DO…I really DO…feel badly
for writing so much anger and sadness on here.
It wasn't always my style…my writing started in a different place.
When I started writing…REALLY writing…
I was doing it in response to stuff happening in life
Sure, there were hugely crappy feelings…often pessimism…
and...there were times when I WAS severely "stuck"…
Gosh I remember writing about that...
when I first understood what "stuck" thoughts were.
BUT…I generally wrote from the comedic side of it.
That felt better…I felt better about writing it…
At that point, only Holly really read it….but it made me laugh…
She laughed at the "stuckness" talk…
laughed at my observations of life…what I saw
Now…it's all depression talk here…
"stuck" talk with no observations.

I've changed…really changed…and it keeps getting farther away
I've gotta find my way back…I really have to find that me again.
So…today…tonight…I'm going to dig around for the map.
That's step one!
 

Holiday is Here for EVERYONE!

This was posted on my friend Terri's Facebook page

Merry Christmas to everyone out there, whether you celebrate it or not!  
Whether you're sad and struggling or happy and content, whatever is happening in your world. 
I wish you some sense of peace in your heart and some sense of light deep inside of you.  
And if you can't find it - hold on tight to someone's hand....my virtual hand if you need it...  
because we are each other's candles.....posted on Friday by Terri on Bonesigharts Facebook page 

It hit a place in me today. The same as on Thanksgiving, this year I just couldn't get into the "spirit". I find myself angry…at everyone…snapping irrationally at Andrew and Luna when they're trying to be kind. Apologizing doesn't feel like enough….it isn't enough. "I don't know what's wrong with me" I say with tears…and scream it on the inside. I don't blame them for hating me. I don't blame anyone for not wanting to be near me…I'm just unhappy company. Like ice and fire all at once….They're opposites but neither one too pleasant. 

Other times my anger feels completely justified. I mean, anger is a feeling that's OK…it just matters what I do with it. But, of course, I second guess myself in the "rational" anger. I think, "It must be me!" "I'm just messed up in the brain". I disallow myself the reasoning…I "poof" out the notion that something someone else is doing could be what's wrong. 

Family stuff brings a lot of anger and Holidays are about family. I feel badly. Many people don't have family. Comments that followed Terri's post were about family members that passed away…parents…children. I felt so guilty, holding my anger tightly, as I read those posts. At least I have family. Yes, there is "stuff", but it's not overwhelming "stuff" like death or abuse or that poisonous stuff I hear with my clients. But it is really uncomfortable…painful to me…lonely and alienating "stuff"….and I'd rather not deal with it. See, that's the thing, over the regular parts of the year we don't have to deal with it. During those times, the best coping we can do is to let it ride and accept it for what it is. BUT, then, the Holidays come around...whichever one it is…and we are called to be together. It's a time for being happy…but really it's a time for having to face the uncomfortable "stuff" we accept all year long. Maybe that's it for me. That's why I don't want to spend Holidays with family…because who wants to take the happiest events of the year and turn it into a "face-the-shit-fest"?    

I used to drink. That made it safe. It was a shield against the "shit". It changed my mood to a happy, relaxed "Who-gives-a-crap" enjoyment. Now, I'm stuck facing it and it's scary. 

There's a "too much-ness" that hurts inside, too. That's a new area I've discovered. I don't like this "too much-ness" that comes with the Holiday or presents or my family. I want love…that's all…just love. Presents…I just don't need anything like that. I just need peace and to sit down with my family and to watch a movie…that's what I would LOVE…to watch a movie. To be intrigued by it together. 

It's me, though…I see that. This anger I hold tightly to. It makes me want to be on my own. I want to let everyone else be happy…and in order for that to happen, I have to be somewhere else. My Mom told me last night, before she threw all her presents back in the car and left dramatically and angrily (because I was acting bitchy), she said, "That's why everyone can't stand to be around me!" I know people say things when they're angry. Andrew kept reminding me of that last night and this morning. But even still, when your Mom tells you that, you gotta know it inside…that it IS YOU.  

I have this need to be cared for. I need to sit in quiet peace with people. That doesn't really work on Holidays. It doesn't really work when I am who I am. Who the hells gonna care for me when I don't like myself…and considering the problems other people have, I should be able to walk on my own…leave the lights for others. Terri said, if you can't find it then hold tight to someone's hand…I wish I had that hand….I wish I wanted that hand, I wish I deserved it…but given the way I am…well there's no hands out there for me.

It's my birthday today. At 34...I think that's how old I am…I think I should be able to enjoy the Holidays with ease…to love myself…to feel sane. Instead, that anger is gripping tight to my heart. So, when I blew the candle out..I wished for peace…and hands to hold…both ways. 

Ugh! I'm at least glad all of that is out of my system. It is because I read Terri's post that I allowed myself the freedom to vent this out…Thanks for listening.

A new post

Past 3 days
Good days

Comfortable feelings
Warmth
Patience
Laughing

So much to write about
But finishing up work first
Tomorrow I hope to be done
Will finally check email
Readying to relax
and write about good things

For now...some sleep
Snore

Human Connection

Big long exasperated sigh..... 
 
Last night was the season finale of Dexter
absolutely one of my favorite shows
who would think that one could feel so much love...
Empathy...for a serial killer...almost connected to his pain
If you've seen it you'll understand what I'm saying
What he does is horrific...
but when he talks about his "Dark Passenger"...
my heart gets all stiff and sad for him
 
So...last night...almost to the end...as we hear his internal dialogue
He looks around at his family and friends who are celebrating together
We hear his thoughts...
 
"They make it look so easy...connecting with another person...
it's like no one told them it was the hardest thing to do in the world
 
It hit me hard...that line...that thought...punched my gut
and today...today I felt every bit of it...reminded the whole day

Screaming…not heard

I feel so alone with all of this 
With all the feelings…with the anger 
And more angry…that I feel alone 
Not sure which anger came first 

I feel absent and invisible 
Like I'm the one that disappeared 
And my thoughts are alone too 
Because I don't hear anyone else 

It's so quiet…….. 
I want to scream!!!  
I've had that dream before 
The one where I'm screaming so loudly 
And no one can hear me 
They can't even see me 
They just keep walking…by me 

I had a dream like that when I was little 
A dream I will always have inside me 
Screaming down from a balcony 
My Papi and brother a table down below 
There….white wisps floating around them 
I was terrified of those wisps 
I screamed…to warn them…screaming and waving 
They didn't notice…they didn't hear 
They laughed with each other…playing  
Having fun through my screams 
I'm screaming alone..no one sees what I'm scared of 

The sound of a text message 
A blinking light that says someone is there 
Something…I'm screaming 
What have I done…. That no one can hear 
They've turned into wisps now floating around 
Scream

My first client…an awful lesson to start with

I don't even know how to even begin to talk about what just happened
I had never even thought about it...it wasn't even a possibility in my head...a missed appointment...I knew he had relapsed...he told me he had relapsed...first he said pot and then...then I knew...and I understood...I tried to show him that I was still going to be there...listening...I knew that I could do that much.  Even when he didn't want to talk about it, I knew...it was a horrible feeling then.  That first missed appointment, it was the first time I cried about this therapy work we do...what we do...especially here.  This piece of shit of a disease...I can't stand it...what they live in...that pain and that void...this fucking pit that they need to fill...

I say I knew...but I didn't really know...not this part of it. He tried to show me....this amazing kid in so much pain....I say kid because that's what I saw when he sat with me...this beautiful kid in a 20 year-old body...but wanting to be loved.  He drew...it was awesome...what he brought in to show me.  "Draw it: what does this addiction mean to you...?"  He did...he drew it in 5-6 pages.  And...ugh...that's when I started to get it...or see it.  He showed me what heroin was like for him...he drew what it represented to him...the voice behind it...the desperation behind it.  He screamed it out all over those pages.  And he was like a little kid...so excited to show me what he'd drawn and so willing to tell me about it. I wish I had those drawings with me....God, I so wish I'd have kept them or copied them.  There was the house of cards...the two faced creature...the big neon door yelling at him to come in...he told me how "in" that door was the heroin...that feeling. There was him...alone on an island...everything in color...him in black and white...there was a ladder and a hot air balloon and a big smile on the balloon and a little devil peeking out from the basket....we talked about getting off that island.  I started to understand more...I hated this fucking disease so badly that day...I hate it so much more today...

The last time he was here....I had agreed to come on a Saturday...he had started a job...was all excited, but could no longer make our morning appointment. Probably even excited that he couldn't make our morning appointment… So...I said ok....Saturday the center was open...I could do group too...but I told him...I said, "C.P.,..listen...I'm missing out time with Luna...so if you don't come I'll be upset." He agreed.  Then came Saturday and I did group and saw another client and then waited...and waited...12:00 came and went...then 12:15...12:30...now I was getting pissed...12:45...he calls..."Um really sorry, I overslept...missed the bus...I'm 5 minutes away".  I'll never forget that morning...not anymore.  He walked in looking like something other than him....he smelled and was only half here...and I was mad...but at least he was here.  I was firm that day...I don't think he expected it...I didn't expect it...I was loving...I told him I was there to help...but I was firm.  He told me plenty of times before...how he bullshitted his way through treatment all the time...we talked before this about bullshitting with me.  So when the dump started oozing out his mouth that day, I laughed with him and called it out.  He laughed…but I was still firm. We knew he had used.  Bullshit or not.  We did talk some other stuff too...about getting paid...the pay check. He told me how excited he was when they handed it to him…how he opened it so quickly that he actually ripped the check…so excited he almost ruined the thing he valued (so symbolic) it was money...with devil faces on it...I asked about a bank account...I asked about giving it to someone to hold..I asked what he could do to not have it in his face....we DID talk about that stuff...

Saturday came and went...he missed...I called...left a voice mail...I left that message just as he was dying.

He overdosed. He fucking died......

He got paid on Friday…that paycheck…the excitement. He got paid and was excited and excitement led to temptation and the craving and the bright neon lights calling for him. He used…it was so exciting to him…such a craving…that pulsating thrill calling so loudly. He used and he used so much…he forgot how much was too much…limits…he forgot limits. It was too much……..

My supervisor called me in...I thought I'd done something wrong.  Never expected to hear what I heard.  and I don't know or expect to know what to do with it now.

I'm ashamed at how selfish that sounds...that it could be anything about my feelings right now. But at least there's feeling there...cause…a real scared part of me wants to just drop it and run away.  A scared part that's kicking at my head..."if I'd not been hard on him that day"..."if I'd said something differently"..."If I'd listened more"..." If I'd listened less"…."If one of the experienced counselors had taken him as a client. Someone more experienced"  

In one of his drawings…the one he laughed about the most, there was turtle-like character with fists and fists full of cash…and in big letters "I wanna be successful". Something in me said to test this…to push that "success" comment. I asked him and pushed the envelope…I asked him why the wads of cash were so big if success is what he wanted. He talked about cash and money and wads of it…how that's success. I pushed him some more…I stressed…"Yeah, but then why didn't you say I wanna be rich"…he told me I was looking to hard into it. I'm a new therapist…I felt bad for pushing it…I dropped it…and every time I listened to the audio of that session….when it got to that part of the session…I literally wanted to vomit…I'd messed up…I pushed too hard. Now…OMG…now I wish I'd pushed more about the money. My instinct knew…why had I betrayed my instinct. He was telling me…he was saying in that picture that money was the first devil…heroin the second…the first led to the second. I should have pushed that more…instead of getting scared.

I know...this is a fucking asshole of a disease.  The staff at my internship is so loving...but I don't want that right now..I want to ignore it.  When someone says there's nothing we could do differently...ugh...then why are we here?  I get it...I do...I understand that it's out of my control...but if we're here to make a difference...then how can I say " I  couldn't have said_____" ...............I don't know.

This really sucks...you know what sucks most....is that I cared for this kid.  I mean...I could sense his pain....I heard him talk and could hear...this little cry sometimes that would come out in a forced laugh...this crying out for boundaries and expectations his parents never gave him....crying about anger he had...crying out some deep sadness...but crying it out in that nervous laugh.   I didn't find it annoying...I found it…..sad.
I have a video of our last session.  I was supposed to present it to class today.  I hate that. I read the transcript of the session…I cried…and cried…it was all there that day.  heard him and challenged it…him. Unfortunately, it was already too late.

He was my first client…my very first…real…regular…invested in him client. You can learn all the "counseling skills" you want in a class…but the moment you sit with that first client and let it go…omg…it is scary and weird and exciting all at the same time. They say you never forget your first client. I won't…I so won't

Part of me just wants to keep moving, too. I want to just keep seeing new clients keep working through it…talk about it, but work beyond it…not letting that doubt seep in….not allowing that time for the doubt that could grow out of this. I know that I process it…I take care of the part…I have people to talk to and I assume I'll be feeling this off and on for a while. That makes me human….that's part of what makes me a counselor. And then part of me feels less than human…not getting it or understanding and feeling really alone in this. That no matter what I'm feeling….someone is judging it…and that makes me scared to talk about it…and that's why I'm saying it here.

Please pray…I need something right now…and I'm not sure what. I think I need to feel it…and I'm not able to…I'm so confused…but can't put words. My body is so sad…but I'm not letting my heart be sad. I thought maybe I'd want peace right now…that maybe I would ask you guys for peace…but I think what I want instead is to just feel…I need to feel this and let it fight its way out of my system….then I'll have peace. Please pray, guys…that I can let myself feel the pain.

A particularly hard rock day...

I woke up already sucking up the need
Unfortunately, there wasn't much give around
Usually I can figure it out on my own
Either that or just keep pushing through
force my way through...push
By 2:00 I knew...no more...can't do it...call for reinforcement

I listened to the same song 10 times over again
Tears pouring down like they haven't in a while
I've been feeling deep into my bones
but not crying...and today as much as I tried to hold back
I needed to cry

Funny thing is, I made that whole drive to Bernardsville
Crying it out...for 45 minutes
By the time I walked into Nell's office I felt a little rinsed out
I was numbed...in a good way...
Ever feel that way?
Waited so long to sit in the safety of your therapist's office
and worry that when you get there you'll be blank
or even worse...you actually get there and ARE blank

I felt blank...thought I'd wasted the ride

and then.....I sat down
She asked what was up...
I said that my heart hurt...cramped up hurt...
physically tied, bound, strangled hurt
and...boom...it...all...came...gushing out.
and when the words weren't enough (they're often not)
I showed her this....because parts of it spoke for me...

Sometimes I can't explain how I feel so I draw
and though I want to explain what it is I drew...I can't find the words
I know there's stuff here...and I can tell you the parts of it that "feel"
I just can't explain them
In this drawing...I feel rocks...heavy hard..super impenetrable rocks
and I feel heaviness....and rock hard heavy pressure
and "stuck"

I took this drawing out...and shared it with her
and... my heart exploded with shards....
pain stabbing everywhere and everyone
I don't have concrete words for the drawing...or the feelings
Yet both...as hard as they are...poured out like water

Pain poured out with anger...
Confusion....confused anger....confused angry pain

I don't get it...I don't understand
What happened? I asked her what I should do
I told her there's nothing...
No options on this one...nothing I CAN do
and that's the worst part
I wish I had that last chance again
those last words that may make the pain different
or at least make the understanding...make it happen

She asked me if I wanted her to do it for me
I said no...there's nothing to do
and yet I want to...I want to so so badly...to DO something
and I DO want her to do something...I want to feel stood up for

Ah...I get that part now..
I understand that part of the drawing
The rocks...the fact that they are so impenetrably hard
Impossible to chip away...or drill into...
That part of the drawing...hard...sharp...and heavy on my back
It's the feeling of not being able to do anything about
something I want so badly to change or penetrate.

Every single day I have a moment...at least one
where I pray for those hard and sharp and dark rocks
to liquefy and wash away
To then make the CAN do possible again.

Say some prayers...too...maybe it will be.

Aoughhhhhhhghghww.....

That's the sound of my body.
owwwwwughmmoohhh
I knew I wasn't feeling well
But then I stopped moving
and now I really know the truth
I'm soooo not feeling well.

My neck is achy and sweaty
my eyes feel like they're steaming
My fingers are cold as ice
There's this crackling sound in my ears

And....
I've got cramps
I'm cranky as hell
Don't wanna see another human being for the next two days
I'm like a lion over here on this end of the couch
I can't stand to even sit here with myself
You know it's bad (as Pink says) when you annoy yourself
Except I'm not just annoying myself
I want to get a divorce from myself
Everything...I mean E--v--ery thing is like a tweezer on a nerve

And....that feeling...that I wish I were totally alone
But if I were alone, I'd be angry that no one was here
That..."come here...go away" feeling
Poor Luna...she's the only one in this house
Wondering why Mom turns into an immovable monster...lol
I'd be fine taking care of myself...or not taking care of myself
But to take care of someone else, when I'm like this...oh no

Oh...ugh...why does this happen?
I really really....don't like it....
And yet...I go back to that image of Lioness Teresa
In my cave instead of the couch
Protecting my boundaries...and my belly
and then...I guess it makes some sense
Maybe then I can understand this incredible CRAZiness!

Tonight.....
Keeping my laptop close and warm on my belly
A blanket to hide in...box of tissues
The TV remote by my cold fingers
and my little girl...as long as she stays in the house...
can have a night to do whatever she wants :)

Burning Popcorn

Some microwaves just can't make popcorn. A new rule I have adopted....don't ever assume that a "Popcorn" button on a microwave means that it will successfully pop a bag of Popcorn. Oh boy, did I ever learn that today. The sad thing is that a bag of burned popcorn seemed to set off a catastrophic wave of ridiculousness...ridiculous attitudes, judgments, pettiness, drama...the whole rainbow of immaturity. Omg...lol.

Yep.  I burned a darn bag of popcorn at the office today two seconds before running in to teach.  I may have let out a few silent expletives...blew it off (figuratively and literally)...gave the bag to the kind maintenance person who happened to be walking the hall...and ran into my classroom.  Apparently, though, the smell and smoke of burned popcorn loomed strongly enough to cause an uproar....and by the time I walked out of class there was a cross ready in my office and a couple of people prepared to nail me up. 

Now...please understand, I am a pretty considerate person.  I care...and am certainly culpable of caring so much that I crucify myself.  But....really...this is popcorn.  For today...for some reason today...I decided that I was done with other people's ridiculousness.  Because, honestly, you could throw some stink bombs in my office and I'd likely laugh...and if the stink bombs landed there by someone's accident, I'd likely laugh harder.  But furious..? Seriously? My gosh.

Oh...this was ridiculous, I can't exaggerate that more...because they had blown it up enough.  I felt bad...I apologized...I sent an email to all of us, apologizing some more, and...yep...I thought that was good enough. Then, I get called into my boss' office.  YES...really...seriously...get called into my boss' office.

" What happened?", she asked.
" I burned a bag of POPCORN!...that's it"

And....finally, (getting to the good part of this story)...I decided I was done....done in the sense that I was not going to "sorry" my way through this part of my life anymore.

I do apologize a lot.  Some settings more than others.  In my work location, because they are their own little tight-knit group with few of us outsiders on the edges, I tend to walk in and out doing my job and ending it there.  I apologize my way through the snickering...smile...take their "superiority"...and that's it.

But today...guys...today I was tired of it.  I didn't yell.  I didn't argue.  I didn't even confront the most ridiculous of the group.  It wasn't worth it.  BUT, when my friends came by to pick on me and laugh, I laughed.  And when my boss called me in, I laughed again.  I looked her straight in the eyes, and smiled...and joked about it until she smiled.

And for once in that place...I felt like a REAL person.

Thanksgiving...ANY way you want it...

Balance Balance Balance Balance

I'm hearing it a lot because of what today is "supposed" to mean.
I'm sitting at a Starbucks near my parent's house...doing school work
I walk in the door and get cut-off...by a guy in CLERGY garb.
I go for the half /half and get shoved into the garbage bin.
The barrista's aren't smiling like they should at a Starbucks.
My computer's out of battery...
I ask the neighbor for the plug,
She gives me a dirty look and says it probably won't reach.
There's no eye contact being made
Certainly not random strangers sharing Thanksgiving happiness.
The snappiness, the rudeness, the lack of "swell spirit"...it drives me bitter.
I close my eyes and breathe
I take Nashville out of my heart and put her on the table and starte.
I think of everything I love....all the people I love.
I cry...but hold it in.
Because I "should" be grateful today...of all days...for all I have.

So I get out my phone.
I start to write thank you texts
160 characters or less can't possibly convey my gratitude
I switch to email....
and I start writing...to everyone that's out of reach.
I give my gratitude to THEM...
Sharing bits and pieces of special things I carry around with me no matter where I am.
I cry inside some more.

Then I see a friend approaching
My old friend Mr. Guilt comes running to my table.
He says that in my gratitude for those over THERE
I'm silently expressing wastefulness....for all that I have HERE.

Unsure what to do, I come here and write.

In sincere honesty...
what's in my heart is resentment...not gratitude.
Anger that I haven't yet gotten through the loss.
It sounds so easy...It's been a year.  I have so much.
But I can't think of it today.
I'm stuck.
Me....stuck...imagine that

And then...it strikes me.
So what if I'm stuck!!!
So what Teresa!!!
So what if I'm angry!
So what if today I feel like I hate New Jersey
would give anything to jump off a plane in Nashville.

(Brace yourself...because here comes the cheesiness)

In EVERYTHING you can find some gratitude.
I can be grateful...
grateful that I got to experience that love in Nashville.
Grateful that my friendships there were soo wonderful that I'm still mourning them.
Grateful that I was so pissed off at Jersey people...with their attitudes
Grateful....because that means I know what selflessness CAN be.
Grateful that I can write about my bitterness and that others will listen...
Grateful that I have that freedom...at least here. 

In group yesterday, a client was feeling particularly hopeless.
Another client replied........

"Be grateful for hating life....for wanting to die....
because those feelings mean you're STILL alive and fighting."
It was a strange and scary thought at the time...
Today it makes a whole lot of sense to me.

I'm sure that somewhere
deep in my brain another
some part of me sings about the things I DO have to be grateful for
some part thinks the type of things people will say around the table:
For family and a home and a beautiful daughter and an education.

But until I accept and love this part of me that hurts today,
I won't even think about the other stuff.
And.....that's OK,
I learned today...that it's OK
because the bad feelings,
no matter how ugly and scary they sound,
are feelings to be grateful for too.

Wishing you a Thanksgiving...anyway you want to feel it...

2 years....2 whole years

I was sad today
Still sad about losing Nashville
Yearning so painfully to be getting off a plane today
walking into one of my old meetings
and celebrating with people that helped me out
Feeling the 2 year coin for the first time

responding to everything in means

But that was not going to happen this year
and I was angry over it...
Teary as I drove to work this morning
Pouting....definitely pouting.
Thinking no one's gonna be interested in celebrating
Hell...I thought no one would remember
and if they did, they wouldn't know why it's important


I was wrong, though...imagine, me, wrong about pouting
My friends, in their own way, made me smile tonight
valued the anniversary with me..in their own way.
They know so little about AA
But Danielle...she made me a pretend 2 year medallion...lol.
and the others...they said a cheers over club sandwiches and cokes.

Then there was Luna....the conversation that made me smile the widest
Because for some reason, she really really really gets it.
Every milestone...every single one...she has made me smile
She has been the most fun person to announce it to.

"Hey, Luna...guess what? One month without beer!"
"Yay, Mami...I'm so happy for you!"
"Hey, Luna...guess what? 90 days without beer!"
"Yay, Mami...I'm so proud!"
"Hey, Luna...guess what? 6 months without beer!"
"Yay, Mami....what color chip is this one?"

Yep...she really really got it...
When I got home, she was laying in my bed
asked me to close my eyes and put my hands out...
and there it was...the best 2 year sobriety coin ever!
Made by her as I rushed home...
made because she wanted to give me what I wanted most
that symbol of two years of life change

And....best of all....she made it rainbow color

Tomorrow I'll reflect more about the past year
but for tonight, I will sleep with two paper coins
made with spiritual gold.

Giving it a voice

Figures...I'm in the race for weeks...

not really looking up at the stars or even down at the ground

just speeding straight forward for weeks with work and school and everything
and then I stop for a breath...
and all this stuff emerges
I'm sure I'll be back in the race in the morning
but for now, everything that's going on around me seems so vivid and detailed
wild

I saw this profile picture

and it really hit me inside...on top..and everywhere

It so reminds me of this one drawing I have ("Release"...on the right column)

about cutting...and the odd relationship one has with it
it just sorta bopped my gut
and that's sorta good....cause I am really so dead set on this race
and I love this race...and it keeps my thoughts whirling in a good place
but when I get to therapy, I spend a half hours pealing the tough skin off
before I let out what's inside...

Today I got to the inside
And it was strange in there

I coped in many ways, but two pop out the most right now.
Throwing up and Cutting
Today I was trying to explain why…
And this is how I explained it

There’s gravel inside me…
my body is full of heavy gravel,
the kind that you see on a driveway…
cheap grey gravel.

It weighs me down deeply and it hurts as it moves around in there
As I walk and feel…
Sometimes it gets so so heavy…so I throw it up
I never binged when I threw up..there was already too much gravel in there
No room for anything else…
When I threw up suddenly there was space in me…I felt lighter
That’s why I threw up…to have less gravel
And that’s why I don’t eat sometimes
Because it makes it feel like there’s some space in my heart
And that feels lighter

Now, the second coping…the cutting..
That’s different
The cutting was something that happened when the air in me steamed so hot
When my body wanted to explode with feeling
When it felt like I couldn’t explode….
When the feelings had to stay in there tight
With a big lid…Because life was there to watch me..spying to see if I was gonna be good
Then…I would cut…it was letting out a little explosion at a time.

The cutting was also about letting the hurt in me win
I think emotional pain often develops from these two fighting parts of you
I don’t think I could have felt such self-hatred if I didn’t know there was good in me too
There are pieces in me that feel so right…
Pieces that I think are right and true and honest…but misunderstood
Unfortunately, when the world thinks you’re not right, the mad part of you starts to win
This mad part of me bullies the self-love out of the way...taunting and teasing
No matter how much the good feelings cry for mercy,
The hate is fighting with an armada of real people
And to prove the good feelings wrong, the bully cuts…punishes the other away
So sad…the good feelings in me are part of this baby…a crying baby
The bully shoves the baby…pushes her in…tells her she’s wrong..
and cuts her if she gets out of line.

These days the baby doesn’t get out much
Partly because of the race and responsibilities
Partly because it doesn’t feel safe out there
And in a big way because the bully is out to get it.

This picture looked like the two parts of me talking
All parts of me talking…all of them
There’s good feeling in the pain
There’s trickery in the bully…when pain becomes love
There’s a baby inside and the bully was once a baby
It all hurts and feels good at the same time
It’s all so confusing

I’m here talking about it…writing about it
I tried to explain it today…
I let it cry…
All in the hope that I can figure it out
All so that it may help…
Even if it’s not for me to figure out..but someone else.

Tomorrow I will go back to the race
bright and early...very fast
looking straight ahead...in focus
forgetting the ground or the sky
the baby will be in there scared and crying
but buckled in tight
and time will pass where all there is is forward
But at least for today, all parts of me had a voice

Here's hoping you let your voices speak too

Luna's Well for Africa

I'm not sure how it happened, but my little baby

the one that came out of my belly...so cute and long

9 years and 4 hours ago...

My baby Madeleine...who came to be called Luna

Today...she turned 9!!!

OMG....I just can't believe it.

We had a great day...birthday party and all

and I'm sure I will post about that later

BUT....

for now I just want to share my Luna with all of you

and spread the word as I promised I would

This year, after talking with her Daddy

and telling me she had too much

and even after being the stuff that 9 year old are now...lol

after all that....

Madeleine (Luna) decided to start a campaign

Check out the video above

$5,000 is literally enough to build an actual well...

to dig deeply enough into the African soil to reach fresh water

....water to an entire community.

it's so cool to see the footage of fresh water finally sprouting from the ground

Luna's kindness

I realize she's my daughter and all...lol...but..
Luna is the coolest form of kindness and hope
Just the way she generally is....just in general being...
she's always just...willing to love
I remember when she was 3 or 4....
we lived in Manhattan and I coordinated  a women's shelter every Friday night
she would love to come with me...
set up the beds and sheets and pillows and a table with food
and when the women would come in...off the street...
they were kinda worn out...kinda stinky and all
any other kid would have been freaked out...
but Luna would run to these women...
She'd show them their beds...and sit with them as they ate
One time she brought a book...
she let one of the ladies...one that I was even scared of...
sit with her and read "Walter the Farting Dog"
and they laughed so hard

I love my little girl...
she's getting older...and living in Jersey,
she's getting that eye rolling sass stuff
but...gosh...God just gave me the best little girl for me...
When I think about my future plans to work in Africa
I just feel so blessed that I have a little girl that will jump along with me

As I said to my friend Mary,
I know I'm not perfect...really far from it...especially as a Mom
and she's pretty close to it...but not perfect
BUT...I do know that she is perfect to me

(Mary, I hope you don't mind me posting this
I realized how many good memories it brought out after I wrote it)

All that a Starbucks card can hold...

I lost my wallet a couple of weeks ago.
Went everywhere and back, twice...three times..
Tore every corner, bag, chair, car...
Couldn't find it.

Fortunately, I had my debit card with me
everything else:
-my Gap credit card...the only card I ever pay off (cause I never use it..lol)
-my brand new Driver's License...literally got it 2 days before
-a Macy's gift card with $100...that bites
-some business cards
-and some change

It sucked...but it seems like a sucky event has become a weekly ritual for me
A reflection of how much I carry...how fast I move...how tired I am
I was willing to deal with it....

and then..........................................

I walk into Starbucks today
have another paper to write...boo..
heading toward the line..when I realize that
my Startbucks (RED) card....it was in the wallet!!!!!!
Lost...
The tears literally bubbled up

Mind you....this is not a credit card...just a gift card
it had $0 balance...so it can't be used...
easily replaced at the register with another gift card, right

No.....................

This was MY Starbucks (RED) gift card
that I have used since Nashville
that ordered my Caramel Macchiattos
and waited patiently in my pocket for a financial upturn...to be used
that sat with me as I took my first steps toward "real" writing
that bought the coffee...which I drank...while writing my applications...
applications which got me in to grad school...which brought me here..
that card that hoped....with me...for Holly to walk in the door
that shared the love of Jolan...and Elizabeth...V...wow...and Em
and Jenifer...after the $200 dollar meeting...lol
oh wow...that bought the coffee...that kept me sober...
OMG...yes...how could I forget?...it bought the coffee cups
that first kept me sober...now I really want to cry
the card that listened to so many interesting conversations
with random strangers...who became friends
used in Nashville Starbucks...
Bellevue, Westmeade, Brentwood, Green Hills, Vandy
Flew to Puerto Rico...that made me happy...as I sent the pic to Holly
the new coffee...here...in NJ...Seton Hall, Clifton, Summit, Bernardsville
and....that gives 10 cents of every coffee to Africa


All of that....
in one red little card...
with a white Baobob Tree
and it feels like I lost a friend

<----- yep...that's it there


Why I get so sad over these things....
I just do
All the other stuff in that lost wallet seems like dribble
I just want my card back...

So I walk to the register...I tell myself I have to let go...
I'll grab a new RED card...and new start...
I've been meaning to grow away from those other memories anyway
this is just an opportunity
but nothing...at the register...no RED cards...
not one...they no longer make them

How a card can be a friend....I just don't know

I feel guilty...that people lose hard things...
and me...I'm sorry...I grieve over a card in my pocket.
Sure feels like a loss, though....

A late paper...

Oh Man...
I sooooo wish I had more time to write
I mean..to write about the real stuff
not the contrived writing that I force out like constipation
yes that is exactly what it feels like when i write a paper for school
it feels like I'm constipated and have to force out this verbal shit

I had a paper due on Monday
and it sucked
and I hated it
and I have been so overwhelmed and exhausted
with every second of every day full of something
it was horrible to have all of this work due at once
and my belly got literally sick with forcing it

I love to learn...I love what I do for a living and what I'm learning to do
I love what I'm learning...
my brain takes all this stuff together
and all these new facts...it's like they have a soccer games in my brain
and on weekends these new concepts and facts have tournaments up there
and it is super fun to watch those tournaments
I really love to suck this stuff up and spin it around and process it

But I had a paper due...and I felt constipated with knowledge
and I was TIRED...sooooo tired guys...
my body had finally crashed and was screaming..."Let me breathe!!!"
sooooo...as a very rare occassion...in my life...I allowed myself a break
this happens so rarely...that I let expectations be...and choose the easy way
But I needed to...I made a healthy decision....for myself...
and I was OK with it.

But...when I walked into that class
looked to the professor and whispered...I needed an extra day on my paper
well....let's just say I didn't get the response that made me warm and fuzzy
I'd forgotten that for all my pride...
in for once accepting that I was not going to do it perfectly
finally cutting myself a break and letting it be...
loving myself enough....
telling myself that I am just as good with a late paper as with an on time paper
I'd forgotten....
that the professor wasn't gonna give one small shit about my reasons
Quite the opposite....this woman said the one thing
that would put that familiar shame knife right back to my throat.

she said...quote...
"I don't know what to say...
You need to know that in all the years I have taught grad school
not once has a student handed in a late paper!!!"
Now...honestly...what did her statement serve...
what did she get out of that...what was her goal..
because I really see none
whatever it was...it worked...cause the shame game was back....

Can you imagine? all the umph I had in taking care of myself...
in making a self-loving decision...
all of that...went puff!!
all I heard was..."Ha, Teresa, you fool...how could you...
you should be ashamed and you know it!"
oh...and i also heard
"You failure!"...and  "Not good enough!...compared to everyone else"
and basically...I saw my beautiful 4.0 go whistling away...
and any pride I had...like a ghost...just disappear...

So...I guess I'm not so ready to brave the self-care route...
no matter how much I need it.....
cause....guys....get this....that week...I had
a new lesson plan...three classes to teach...
advising appointments with a new student in my office every 20 minutes...
internship...that's clients and a group to run
one midterm exam...two presentations...and other little assignments...
all due between Monday and Wednesday....

The question is....why?...
why did this one bitch's useless comment take all my good feeling away...
why did I let it?  why did I let her?
still processing this one guys...

What I really wish I'd said was...
"The first one?...ever?...really?...with a late paper?
well then fuck...I'm gonna go get myself a plaque to commemorate the day"
or
"Well...wow...I guess congratulations are in order...glad to be your first"
or
"You're full of shit!"
or how about just a plain old
"*#^$$#@!!" (Expletive)

Treat myself calmly

I'm not perfect......

(Oh my God...LOL...
What a statement to make...
That's it, I should just click "Publish Post" and walk away
A genius level blog post!)

But, of course, I'll keep writing.

Anyway...so...I'm not perfect.
But one thing has amazed me lately.
I can be really calm...seriously...I can
I can have big things happen and not freak out

OK, if you know me, you're probably laughing right now
Calm is the last word most of you would use to describe me.
BUT, if you know me really well, you'll laugh cause you know what I mean.
and if your my therapist...you'll just laugh
and write "delusional" in your little yellow notebook..lol

I had a small group of girlfriends over one night
I had just started this cool glass mosaic...the first time I tried that
There was a big, oval, glass table top on the floor
small little mosaic tiles lined up or in piles ready to go
we sat together talking about it and revving over my plans
until......I got up to get a drink...turned around...and...
crack! crack! crack!...glass all over the floor.
My friends gasped
But me??? Nope...there was nothing

I sort of just looked down...maybe said "Shoot" and grabbed a garbage bag
a little blood trickling off my heal... 
They all just looked at me..."Aren't you pissed??"
Nah...it is what it is...can't change it now.
and I just started picking up.

That happens a lot....
this crazy stuff happens in my life
a car accident, a blown boiler, a broken frame, lost card, broken phone
most recently it was pulled over and almost towed
Sure...it sucked...but it amazed me how quickly I was able to see it
Whatever happened...I couldn't change that it happened
so...I breathed and accepted it...and breathed and focused on what's next.
Wow...what a trip it is to witness this calmness.
Acceptance...the things I can't change
Brilliant, right?  Yay for Teresa, huh?

Nope....
because the most important thing to accept,
the best thing I could be calm about,
the biggest time for me to say, "Ah..it just is"
is.........
for MYSELF!

Damn...if I could just treat my emotions the way I did that piece of glass
Rather than flip out, implode emotionally, beat myself up and yell at my failures 
If I could look down at my pain and see it bleeding
and see that what I had looked forward to was not possible

If I could deal with my broken esteem the way I do my cell phone
or accept a loss and wait..the way I do when my debit card is gone
or just accept ME as someone who's sometimes lost, or in trouble, or broken
and say to me..."Oh well, it's happened.." and look toward the solution

Damn it....IF I could just  handle my "heart stuff" calmly...
and accept myself for what I am even when I let myself down
I could actually be happy.
Wow...now that would be great.


ps....since I'm setting wishes and lofty goals...I'd like to add other flip out moments to eliminate
Such as...screaming monster Mom when Luna can't clean her room after 3 hours
or.....tirade Teresa when she's overwhelmed with school work and doesn't get her corner seat in class
(wink wink J, L, D et al)

All wrapped up

I've forgotten what's under the wrapping.
Failed to remember there's color...
So, I'm pealing some strips off slowly
Rinsing the grayness away.

I have a new piece of circle art
I was drawing the other day, and nothing was making sense about it.
I was doing my "circle art" thing...where I just let my inner stuff take control of the pen
and I wasn't liking anything about it
but, I scanned it in to my computer...started touching it up anyway.
and then...when I looked at it from the screen...I froze...

This ugly and frustrating new piece of circle art that I had drawn
suddenly became the piece that says the MOST
it talks about the inner conflict...
it talks about how the depression can wrap itself around
or smudge out
or stick to.......
All this color...

looking at it makes me cry
it's a really desperate feeling
to see this beautiful vibrant thing
that can't seem to break through the sludge
I know that I am vibrant and powerful and good
but this gray stuff is stamped on to that color and it won't come off.


I pour water over the whole of me
Some gray washes off...the black gets lighter
Some parts are slick with oil that won't loosen its grip
Other parts of the color have been protected with plastic and will never be tarnished

anyway....here it is...
with the words I felt as I was looking at it.

The High Power Vacum Life

So.......I had to borrow that church's vacuum the other day.
My Dad brought it in.
It's been sitting in the corner of my kitchen the whole week.

This morning, as I'm waiting for Luna to get ready,
I looked around my kitchen floor and, to my disbelief, found....a mess. 
(Seems like daylight makes crumbs suddenly jump out and around)
I went to reach for the broom...when...suddenly...
the tiny mouse-looking church vacuum caught my eye.

I have very little faith in vauums...they usually....well...they suck
"Ugh", I thought, "I guess it'll be quicker."
I checked out all the workings,
complained that it had a bag and it was almost full...
then plugged the sucker in and turned it on.

"Hm...Wow. This little bugger isn't half bad."

It has that front part that's twisty and bendy and can reach around every corner.
It had a retractable cord and was really light to drag around.
When the kitchen was done I peaked around the door
figuring to test this new gadget on my hall carpet.

Holy shit.. It grabbed on to the carpet like a tick to a dog.
It swiveled and moved and sucked every little particle out of every little crevice.
I couldn't believe it...I was hooked.

The thoughts tornadoed around...

"Where can I buy one of these? Amazing!
I wonder how much it costs. I bet it's like $200 bucks...
I'm broke...I don't have $200.
But wait.......if I don't go to therapy this week...hm...well that'll save me $150
which means the vacuum would only really cost me $50. Wow!
having this great vacuum can bring me much longer lasting sanity than one little session of therapy, right?"


The cord was long, and I was pumped.
By this point I had reached the living room and there was no turning back.
So I ran to unplug it (yes, already bitching about how I'd improve this thing by making the cord even  longer)
 
And that's when it happened.....

You see...the "on" switch is on the stem of the handle.
But it's no regular "on/off" thing like you'd think,
Nope, this shit slides...it slides from "low" to "high" and everywhere in between.

I'll be damned...the thought popped so quickly into my head.
"Why the hell would ANYONE...EVER...wanna use this thing on low? I mean come on!"

I tried going through the scenarios:
Maybe different types of carpet...or maybe for furniture or drapes...I don't know.
But seriously, even when vacuuming those things... why wouldn't you want to suck the hell out of them?
High power could suck every piece and sparkle and speck of dust imaginable...
and high power could suck the hell out of a couch cushion..
Not just the stuff on the fabric..
but the dust and dirt and, God forbid, mites that are deep in the cushion.
No way!..It's High, I tell u!!! HIGH all the Way!!!
I can't ever imagine or want to foresee myself sliding my thumb down that button to anything but HIGH.
Believe me when I say...this shit is strong.

Well, of course, you could come up with so many different metaphors for my way of thinking.
But the most strinking one to me, is the one that broke me down this week...
The very..same..one!


Teresa always...has to...knows no other way than to...do everything on High.
I think to myself,  what is the point?
If I'm going to be doing something...getting something done...it's going to be done on High
sucking everyhing out...making sure I get down to the best and deepest level.
Yes....I only work on High speed.
Everything else just feels like a waste to me.

I'm sure you can imagine.
I have broken, probably blown out, every vacuum I've ever had.
With this borrowed one, even.
I had started by looking inside and seeing that the bag was already pretty full.
But I kept going anyway.
And I'm sure that...after my vacuming escapade...that bag is filled toward explosion.

You know the reason I had to borrow the little mouse vac to start with?

It was because my other vac was out of order.
My other vac...which my Dad introduced me to during a scouring spree
when we first got to this house and the dirty cellar needed to be blasted out clean.
My Dad let me borrow......A SHOPVAC!....
Yes, a glorious Extra high powered shopvac...the kind used on construction sites.
Before I knew it, it was up from the cellar and devouring my carpet and couch and stairs.
The suction was so powerful compared to my broken down Dyson
I could not turn away. I used that shop vac all year. And finally it crashed.
The filter was so damn clogged and exhausted.
It could serve no more until it was replaced.

That's what happened in my life this week.
I have a million things on my shoulders. (I've blogged and bitched about those things already)
They are already too many things for one person to reasonably handle,
but above that....I, because I'm Teresa...do every one of them on "High" power.
And it broke...me...down.

I know that last night I wrote about accepting every part of you
Even the part about how I'd powerwash my mind
I talked about just accepting myself as...well that's how I am.
I'm always working on High..Powerwash...Shopvac..Super Sonic levels
I radically accept that about myself....I think
but....that means I have to radically accept the consequences
and when it comes to an intense, high power everything life,
the consequences are hard and harsh and exhausting.

I need to learn that working on "low" of "medium" or anything other than "High" can get the job done too.
There are delicate jobs or simple jobs...like the underside of the couch cushions or the drapes
those jobs that will get done well enough with just one low level effort.
I can leave the shop vac high level suction powerwashing work for the hard stuff..
that hard stuff is inevitably there and always will be.
But if I do it ALL on "high". I'm going to crash...I saw that this week.

This weekend I worked on a presentation for one of my classes.
It's a simple thing only worth 15% of my grade.
I have everything I need for it. Have done all the work.
And yet.....I am trying to make it into a master piece.
Cause that's what I do.
And I'm still searching...looking to suck more in than I need to know.

Welll......not today! I have tons of other work left...
So today. I'm going to throw it into low...cram what I have into a simple 10 minute PowerPoint
and then......enjoy the fact that its done.

World Mental Health Day!!!

Yes, it's World Mental Health Day!
The culmination of Mental Health Awareness Week



It really really made me realize that my mind and soul need just as much care as our bodies
I take it to the doctor every week
I take the medicine I need
but it also needs to sleep...well that's obvious
and it needs a cleaning...it needed one this week

sometimes you get so much gunk up there
and you have to take a big hose to it...
and just power-wash it all out
wow. it feels powerful to even just visualize it
Can you imagine all of that gunky stuff
the stuff that's been distorted and wadded up and never had anywhere to go
and then the bits and pieces of thoughts that are broken up and floating and taking up space.
there are yucky thoughts...I have them...ugly or mean ones and I'd love to get rid of them
and then there are these thoughts running up there that take the good stuff and tie it up and twist it around
there are dirty thoughts, but I think I'll keep some of those
there are always thoughts stuck up there that belong to someone else...I would love to see those go
but....the worst ones of all are the big red thoughts that swim around and devour all the good ones up
they just swallow and chew and make vomit out of the positive thoughts

Yes....I would love to celebrate my World Mental Health Day
with the strongest power-washer I can get at Home Depot
and blasting the gunk out of my mind

The thing is....
if I did that....
I'd inevitably blast out the good stuff too.
So, once again...a seemingly fantastic sounding plan
foiled by its exaggerated imbalance (one of the many mental faults)

Balance...as always...is the key to mental health
Maybe the powerwasher is the quick, powerful, intense, Teresa-style plan

Maybe the best way...the balanced way
is to chip away the gunk
grab a sponge and scrub for a while
spray away...wash out the big red gobblers
and then slip in a filter and make sure that none of the other stuff gets in this week

Oh...God...that sounds so cheesy...sooooo cheeeessyyy!
and it sounds like what I do every time I walk into session
and it sounds really boring
and it really really doesn't sound like me

I am the powerwasher type
when I want mental health and clean up there
Teresa Prendes steals the powerwasher adds some Ajax
and blasts the heck out of that mind
and it works
it sounds crazy....
but that's me...and that's what works

And in the end..that's my message for Mental Health Day
The acceptance of self....regardless of how that self is
how different it sounds from everyone
how painful it may get at times
and it IS painful sometimes...and different
but accepting the pain with the good...
I believe it's called "Radical Acceptance of the Self"
a smart person told me about that.

So....on World Mental Health Day
go ahead and work out that mind gunk
it's important that you do
BUT...do it your own way
and accept what's up there too
there may be some things up there that we may not like
that we may see as gunk...and we want you to clean out of you
but if you want to keep it...if it's you...
accept it....radically accept it.


Love and peace to all of you!

Mistakes

It is so hard to make mistakes
Not so much with little ones
But big big mistakes
the kind that show a huge failure in judgement
or when you failed to do your job well
or when you act without thinking
those are so hard to take.

I made a big mistake today.
In one day I fucked a lot of things up
I created something that wasn't even there
and now I have to fix it
and I'm so scared

The moment I realized I had made a mistake,
I began to shake, I wanted to vomit, my brain was on overdrive
I started to think of excuses
reasons
lies I could use

I wanted to vomit

My face got hot
I covered my eyes
I picture tomorrow in front of my boss
how could I explain it
how could I not know
Thinking of how I would take the beating
How I could humbly explain my ridiculous confusion
how irresponsible

I thought of all scenarious
of running away and not dealing with it
of coming down with some awful disease so that I couldn't get yelled at
of showing up and being fired
of lying, of pointing the blame, of excuses
I thought about nothing happening
no consequences
I thought about breaking into tears
of being yelled at
of saying I'm sorry
of how big of any idiot I am
if I could cry to my boss
what I could say
what can I say

So so scared
Because of a mistake
why are we so scared to fuck up

I had such fear
and then...I threw my hands in the air
because no matter how big a mistake is
it's done
it happened
over
fear isn't going to bring it back
lies aren't going to make it go away
worrying about the consequences isn't going to change them

The only thing I can do is to look deep inside
process how the mistake happened
and let it be.

THAT is the big, most important thing
the part that asks "How did it happen?"
The answer is very simple....
I AM TIRED...
I am so tired...
Im doing way too much
and the "too much" is not simple stuff
it is stuff that requires a lot of mind and emotion
and I don't have a lot of that to give right now
I am overwhelmed with emotion and hurts and losses
and I am overwhelmed with responsibilities
and that combination has exploded
so....I AM EXHAUSTED
inside, outside, mindfully, painfully

I need to take care of ME

in the end,
that is the only explanation that I can give
I made a HUGE mistake
because I am not taking care of myself
because...
I don't know how to take care of myself
but I have to learn

The church walk-through

Having a minister for a parent.....
ugh..I don't even know how to finish that sentence.
Always always exposed. 
Very little privacy.
Having to entertain people you don't want to see
and  everyone wants to know about you.

If you haven't been to church for a while
or in this case...haven't been there at all,
I am strongly suggesting you go in with the flu
or some other contagious disease
If not, you will be slobbered on by every old lady
and you will probably end up walking out with some disease anyway

The moment you walk in, all eyes and whispers are redirected
that's why I like to sneak through the back.
then anyone that wants to give you a look or elbow their neighbor,
they will have to turn all the way around and it will be really obvious


everyone insists on asking you where you have been
and you must give some concrete response...and it better be a good one
How's school?...fantastic...
What are you studying?...religion...
Do you have a boyfriend?...no, I'm a minister's daughter and will single and celibate for ever.

Open house is always interesting.
People love to see how the pastor "really" lives
they disappear up the steps and check out your room

I'm not kidding...I know it sounds cliche
nosy old church ladies and minister's kids
but it is 100% true
you feel completely exposed and the exposure could come without warning

I'm 32 years old....no longer consider myself solely Christian
I never go to either of my Dad's two churches
and yet I have not escaped the pastoral spotlight

Today is the Charge Conference
The District superintendent comes to the church
they talk business...as a church
and THEN they walk through the house
Walk through the house!!
Ugh....my house on display
walking through inspecting my home

I almost feel like being a smart ass about it
leave my vibrator out right on the bed
hang some thongs from the shower rod
bang out some loud music as they walk in
lol....now that would totally be something to wait for
unfortunately I'm just not that brave

No...instead I will wait here in my home
my home that I just scrubbed clean
waiting, handcuffed to my couch with some church clothes on
yep...just wait for them to come through

Now...the good thing about being a minister's kid
Got a problem....???
you have a thousand prayers going for you at the same time

A reprieve

 

re·prieve [ri-preev] 

– noun

3. a respite from impending punishment

4. any respite or temporary relief.

A day that went well

No crying

Little anxiety

Less neediness

Minimal pressures

More confidence

Lots of laughs

and closeness with family

and maybe even just a little bit of self-love

I feel some relief today.  It was a rainy day and I love rainy days.  They really calm my nerves.  I let go of my thoughts...just for a while.  That felt good.  In fact, I didn't even feel it or recognize it until I sat down to debrief.  But it feels good.

It's scary to feel this way, though.  I worry that it will go away.  It's scary.  I think of all the things I need to get done.  It's scary.  And the scariest thing of all....is that rushing wave that knocks me to the sand as it all returns.  

OK...so I know the deal.  I need to enjoy the ride.  Think of this moment and that feeling.  If I did I may find some longer lasting happiness. 

I just can't trust it though.  Not yet....and that's why I call it a reprieve.  Because I hear the wave coming.  I can see it from the distance.  They're talking about it on the news.  The bills, the school, the family, the homework due, the internship.  And the feelings....the feelings are really really scary.

So here's my plan for now.  It hard to trust...just for now I'll allow myself that fear.  But what I WILL do is to find myself a surfboard...get on it...enjoy the ripple before the big wave...and at least when it arrives I'll have something to hold on to.