So this is what “I don’t love you” feels like…

31 Dec

YUCK! Let me off this train. Ok dramatics semi over…I said I wanted a change and I’m getting it. Doors are being slammed shut all around and I’m standing in the hallway yelling at people. That’s pretty typical I guess. I don’t want it to be though. I’m trying to get through this with minimal yelling and crying but when you attempt that you get numb. I know logically and have even said before I know I have everything inside of me to make this change but I still don’t want to. I am typically dragged kicking and screaming through change. It’s time to be different, feel different.

I just love people too dang much. Give too early, give trust that isn’t earned. I refuse to be cardboard because people can be jerks. I want to stay soft and gullible. I was created this way and I don’t know how to change it. I know it is a weakness but gosh dang it I can’t change the core of who I am. Believe me yet?

The solution. It’s somewhere in the middle in this foreign land called balance where I don’t live. Dating is not my thing and I am no good at it. I cannot be trusted to pick a man. My picker is not only broken but malfunctioning. It’s time I surrender and let God do the leading…let’s see how long I let that happen. I’m gonna keep fighting the good fight, dancing in pink socks and sharing my life so people can laugh with me. I’m ridiculous yea?! Upward and onward friends! I’ll be begging for jobs somewhere if you need me…
dating

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My soul is uncomfortable…

20 Dec

My soul gets uncomfortable and that’s when I know it’s time to write. I’m going through one of those super philosophical periods in my life. Asking myself ridiculous questions like, “Why am I here?” “What the fug is my purpose?” My writing usually reveals these answers to me in a whisper usually only I can hear. I need to hear. I feel lost. My life is semi together now. Kids are good. I’m learning to parent in a way I never thought possible and my relationship with my kids is changing, for the better. I have a dude that may or may not love me. He puts up with me for now anyway which is all I can ask for. Car, house, nice bedding, funny friends, girls I mentor, service positions in the recovery community, on and on like this. I am a person! A real girl. Then why the fug am I so uncomfortable in my skin, my body? I’m not living to my fullest potential and my spirit knows it. I just cannot figure out what the stirring is. I have debated going back to school-I don’t want to. Get married? Fug no. Have another baby? No. Just no. What is my spirit needing for goodness sake?

I recently starting seeing a “life coach.” I am so awesome I need a coach to help me live life. That’s a degree of awesome that is misunderstood by normal people. In any case, she tells me my energy is Orange and that I am creative but there is a wall up. Well, if that ain’t right on target. I have a longing to create but I have never been good at crafts or drawing or anything artistic really. I think my elementary art teacher felt sorry for me. I was that kid that could never get the project quite right. Oh, bless that little girl’s heart! If it was abstract art I nailed it. Every.time. So I have no artistic ability but I long to create. Great. That rhymed.

So why am I here? I think it’s something about love. Remembering my higher self. Going from love to love. I really have no idea. I know something has to change or I’m going to create some random issue that isn’t there or have a nervous breakdown. I like to say nervous breakdown. What does a nervous breakdown entail exactly? Ok, no. The only I experience I have with being uncomfortable is literally using something outside of myself to dull this longing or pain or whatever the fug THIS is. Well, I’ve tried it all at this point and I’ve hit a wall. Nothing outside of me is going to change the way I feel. Only I can. I am responsible for the shiz. Now, whoever made that decision is a worse lunatic than me, for the record. Anyway, I have to make the changes, take the risks and find the courage. The only option left is to sabotage all the crap I’ve spent over a year trying to build. So the first step with all this nonsense is to figure out who I am. Ok, notepad in hand. Jen is…hilarious…smart…ridiculous. Cross all that shiz out. I don’t even know. I’ve always just liked what was cool. If my best friend enjoyed pink as her favorite color then hell give me the pink one. If those jeans were cute on you then they damn sure fit me just fine. You like to read, well fug, so do I! My self concept is a weird conglomerate of crap around me. So I’m finding out I really do enjoy the color pink but it has to be the brightest ass pink you eva saw! It turns out I like things that are loud because I am loud. I like to dance so horribly that all my friends won’t claim they brought me to the establishment. I like to sing loudly and horribly. I love how the air smells right before snow starts falling. I love watching people do what they have white hot passion for. I love the look in my kids eyes when they discover something new. I love how my bed feels after I’ve just washed all the sheets. I love being told I’m pretty. I love the sound of laughter and will do anything possible to make sure I hear every person’s laugh that I meet. I love the way printed words look on the page of a book. I love my black glasses and don’t know who I would be without them. I love my tenacious spirit. Whoa, I AM a real person.

Ok, so what does all this love mean? It means that I have every single thing right inside of me that I could possibly need to make this change. Damn it, I’m good at shiz. I don’t need relationships that cover my flame. I don’t need to internalize people’s judgments of me anymore. I don’t have to stay where I don’t belong simply because I want so badly to belong there. I’ve been trying my whole life to belong somewhere. Let’s try this job, this music, this man. It’s turning out that I belong everywhere that makes my heart sing. Doesn’t matter if it’s profound or mundane. I belong where I feel the ability to bust out the bright pink socks and dance to my own tune. It’s time, my friends, for another new chapter. This one keeps going on and on and it’s not really saying anything anymore. It’s getting so boring that I’m snoozing in my own damn story! This ones gonna hurt because I love familiarity. Who doesn’t? But if it doesn’t hurt it means I’m not alive and I’ve worked way to damn hard to get here to be dead on my feet.

Be courageous friends! Go where your heart sings and the pink socks are allowed. I’ll meet you there!courage

Time to write

29 Aug

I have been seriously slacking on keeping up here…I went through another hard spell where I couldn’t even find the passion to write. Things have happened as they do in life. I keep learning more and more about people I thought I’ve known my whole life. Many in my life don’t understand me right now as I don’t even understand myself…I finally gave in and started the process of new medications and a new therapist. Due to financial concerns I am working with the county to do this. So it is a very slow process…Every appointment is a month away. I am just trying to get through to each one. I seriously need tools to cope with what they think may be bipolar illness. I don’t know for sure if that is what it is but I know now it is something.
Custody arrangements have changed between the kids dad and I as he has moved back from California. He will be having them every weekend which I am hoping will help me be able to have time to breathe and do things that I need to be doing to take care of myself. I am just ragged. Over sensitive to everything that is going on around me. Reduced to a person I do not like.
I realize some people are “worried” about me. They sure have a strange way of showing it. What I do NOT need right now is more stress, more feeling like I have to defend myself from people that are supposed to care for me. I have made some decisions to end some unhealthy and stressful relationships. My plate has been full for so long and things are going to have to move around or come off. I do not regret making my life a little easier. Everyone has an opinion, advice, what works best, what I should be doing, what I’m not doing right, what they wish I was doing and if I don’t do these things I get talked about when I’m not there to be included in the conversation. This does not help in the least and really shows a lack of integrity. Slowly, I am realizing this and letting go of the things that trigger attacks or depressive episodes. I wasn’t aware of this before and it caused a great deal of instability and pain. I’ve had enough pain to last a darn lifetime. So good riddance to that. The small group that I allow into my heart has earned their place there. It basically includes my family and a select few friends. That is what I need right now to get better. I’m hoping to meet people in my therapy groups. People that understand instead of judge, people that have have been humbled by their struggle and genuinely want to help. That is what I hope to be to a new friend.

There are more things to be done, more relationships to examine. Life is a journey and I’m finally learning and letting it be OK to take care of me. I haven’t done a very good job because I feel guilty doing things for myself. Lots of changes in paradigms I’ve carried way too long.

My best boy buddy is coming to live with me for awhile. He gets here tonight. I received some more bad news about my health. I called him and he scheduled to be at my house by the next week. I have a procedure Thursday and he is going to take care of me after and help with the kids and house. I just can’t do this alone anymore and I am so thankful that he is coming. That is a real friendship. He’s driving here from Minnesota just to take care of me for an outpatient procedure. I love him.

Hoping and praying for good news about my health…moving on and up!!! Thank you to those that have really supported me. Really been there without judgment or rude comments. It means more to me than you know. xoxo

Giving up…

5 Jul

I give up…things were really looking up. Now, creditors are calling with increasing frequency, my kids are wild, the house is a mess and I’m back to feeling cardboard. I feel like I cannot take one more step, like I want to crawl out of my skin. Tears won’t come…I can’t do this anymore. I’ve been trying to be positive, read positive things, be around positive people. Not of it is working. Just when I start to stand up I get knocked down again. I can’t sleep or eat, can’t focus, can’t remember simple things. I can’t write…more than this one dimensional bullcrap. When I say anything on my Facebook (my only real social outlet) people belittle me and make fun of me. My house isn’t burning down, I have so many things going for me, how could I be sad? What a spoiled little brat I am…I know, I know. My heart is broken and I give up trying so hard to repair it. I don’t know what is next.

The Butterfly Effect

17 Jun

Have you seen this movie? If you haven’t, you should. I just finished watching it and it amazed me. I’ve been thinking a lot about second chances this week and this brings it to a whole new level. So Evan, Ashton Kutcher’s character, has the ability to go back in time and change events which changethe whole course of his life. He goes through each scenario of what would happen base on his choice. He gets to live out each change and finally ends up with one he can live with. The one he ends up being able to live with means the love of his life is never in his life at all.

I’ve thought of this often. What if I had stayed with my first husband? I like to believe he would be working alongside my father in his successful business. We’d have a beautiful house and babies and live happily ever after. Right? I don’t know. One of the scenarios Evan plays out in the movie, he ends up having to live without both of his arms. I guess if I had chosen this route something would be different. Maybe even something I couldn’t live with. I wouldn’t have my two beautiful children, their laughter, their smell after their bath. I wouldn’t write, create, grow, know Jesus the way I have in my life. Even though I haven’t prayed aloud in years. What would be missing? We can never know. Everyone says not to think this way, not to dwell on the past and the shoulda, coulda, woulda. For me, sometimes, it helps to think of this. It helps to know that even though things may be different if I had made other choices but I wouldn’t have what I have now.

I sometimes feel guilty about wishing things were different. I so long for someone to do this life with, that’s no secret. I sometimes wish FOR my kids that I hadn’t made the choices I had. I wish things were different for them. I wish for them, a stable family, a father who comes home to them every single day. Someone that supports me so that I’m not such a mess most of the time. I wish away the years of depression that have taken their fun loving, silly mother away from them. I mourn the losses we have endured, that I have caused for my sweet babies. At the same time, I feel that I have shown them struggle, pain, and unconditional love. I have shown them sacrifice and belief. I have shown them faith for better times. I have been honest within reason with my kids. Zion knows that daddy and I don’t love each other anymore but that we did once. That we won’t ever stop loving him because of what happened between us. I’ve shown my son that I don’t need a man to care for my needs but that I can meet my own. I have been real with my babies. I haven’t hidden my tears all the time. I’ve let them be a part of my struggle and let them know that we can do anything as long as we are together.

I am proud of these things. We may not be traditional. I may not have the life I dreamt of but I’m living the choices I’ve made. I’m rocking them out in a way that surprises even me. I am not perfect by any means and that’s what is so great about this crazy life. My kids will never have any disillusions about what life is really about. At the end of the day, it’s about sacrifice and unconditional love.  I don’t need a white picket fence to make my family perfect. I don’t have to keep up with anyone. I am me and my loves are themselves. If I could give them one thing in life it would be to be proud of who they are and the decisions that led them there. I know I finally am.

Grief

12 Jun

That little bastard grief is sneaky one. Just when you think you aren’t holding on or grieving anything it hits you. I’m going to warn you that this post is real and raw. My pain is raw today and I think that is just part of the process…

Drying off in the shower today I’m looking at my body deciding if I approve or not. This is a daily ritual in the life of any woman especially one who has grown children inside her body. I brush my hand over my stomach and the memory of pushing Ali out came to my head. This was a beautiful day, one to be remembered. The pain was immense but as a result of the pain I was given something so magnificent, so life-changing, so beautiful. As a result of my struggle, a long one, I gave life to this little girl. As did God. I won’t take all the credit. As the thoughts of labor and delivery flitted through my mind the picture of my husband leaning over to check out our miracle and congratulating me came through. I put my towel over my face as the shuddering sobs started. I don’t know sometimes where this comes from. I don’t feel consciously that I have emotion attached to these memories.

Today I’m realizing ten fold that I do. I have so much emotion attached to creating a family with a man I thought walked on water. A man who sheltered us, prayed over us, adored us. It takes my breath away even as I write this knowing that it will never be the same again. I will never again savor a moment with our kids with him. I will never beam with pride as he tells his story of overcoming a drug addiction that almost ravaged his life as well as mine. I will never again cuddle up close to this man whom my children and I adore.

I let the pain wash over me as I did during my childbirth. Accepting it. Letting it ebb and flow and make its way through my soul. I also realize today that as a result I have been given something beautiful. The ability to sympathize, the ability to weep at watching other woman struggle through their own journeys. The ability to feel others pain as strong as I feel my own, to hold hands with someone as they lose hope. My hardened heart has lifted. This softer, more compassionate woman has taken it’s place. A woman to behold with strength, courage, the ability to face the day. Not only face the day but face with love and passion. This is who I was created to be. I have been through immense pain and struggle to get here. I have paid a high price for my bitterness and resentment. I will learn from the person I was and accept the person I have become.

Finally today I look in the mirror and like what I see looking back at me. I enjoy myself, my attitude, my humor. I love the body my children helped create. I accept my flaws and am grateful for the lack of perfection I have strived so hard to have. I am me. I am enough. I am more than enough. I am light. Please never let me forget again and if I have to feel the pain of things lost to accept my soul then I will do so with an open and engaged heart. It’s ok to struggle, to have pain, to feel it.

Thank you struggle. Thank you pain. Without you I don’t know where I would be, I don’t want to know. Most of all thank you to those who have loved me when I haven’t been lovable at all, for when I was lost and scared and doing things no one would be proud of. Thank you for your belief that I would rise again. A different woman.

Thank you.

Well…

11 Jun

Well, I haven’t posted in awhile. Trying to live life, enjoying a little me time and trying to find out what to do. Right as I was going into this time of the kids going to be with their dad I find out he has lost his job. I planned to live on the child support money he was giving me for a couple months and move on from there. Well here I am now with zero income, a house, 2 kids. I don’t know what to do anymore. Every decision I make that seems to be right for my little family ends up being wrong. I was paying out what I was making in daycare so it didn’t make sense to have someone else raising them. Their dad is moving back and should be able to help me more. We’ll see what actually happens. I’m trying not to be bitter and resentful and just do what I have to do to take care of my family. I hate this. Everything has been going so much better.

I’m going to swallow my tears and fears and get going. I have to find a job by the end of the week. That’s all I can do.

Wish me luck, I’m going to need it.