Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts

Today I had a therapy session and I just dug right into the pain. It's remarkable how deep that pain is, how far back it goes. And yet the one thing that resonates is only relative by looking at relationships.I've made some mistakes, I've overreacted, said things I wish I could take back, but what I wish is that the context was taken into account. It always takes two people. It is never entirely one person's fault. I have the tendancy to look at my "mistakes" and take on all of the burden. Fortunately, that's just not the way things are. Everything is a result of two (obviously there are exceptions). What I've learned is when I sit there in therapy, I talk about everyone else. How I feel badly about others, how I reacted or who has gotten hurt and finally, today, the therapist said, "Stop. Are you hearing yourself? You are only able to talk about others. How you could have made it better, how you could have done things differently. But not once have you talked about yourself. How all of this affects you." I bursted out in tears. Why? Because it was true. I spend so much time worrying about how my actions might have affected or hurt another, I never stopped to realize no one was taking that kind of time on me. Almost no one. One person gets the free pass here and that person knows. (Thanks, Jonesy).

In my 36 years, rarely has anyone actually tried protecting me. Tried protecting my feelings. And so as a natural consequence, I stopped protecting my feelings too. I experience a huge fear of loss because too many people I've loved have died or gone away. I blame myself, which is ridiculous because someone dying or leaving isn't in my control. Granted, I've left people too, and I'm not proud of that. I'm not proud of the hurt that I may have caused and god, if I could do it over with the knowledge I'm finally attaining, things would be very different. But they aren't. I just have to find a way to love myself again. This last relationship I was in - the one I'm having trouble letting go of - I remember the last big fight. After which, the internal self talk or "negative cognition" sounded something like this: I'm not worth it. I'm not enough. I'm unloved. I'm not beautiful. To which, my therapist replied: Now, say the exact opposite because you are worth it. You are enough. You are loved. You are beautiful. Which, of course, resulted in more tears. And then we went straight into EMDR. 

Yikes! Memories that flash before you, like, Wheel of Fortune (this is the example the therapist gives before starting light therapy). You watch a light, focus on a moment, a painful memory. Stop. Breathe in deeply, exhale deeply then you say the first thought that pops into your visual memory. It's amazing what comes out. Amazing. In the end, I felt better and then sad and then manageable and then happy and then angry and then hurt and then remorseful and then, then - a small amount of peace. 

So while my heart has a long way to go before it starts to feel whole again, I am grateful for the life that led me to here. This place in life where the storm is harsh, the road seems beaten, but then I look at the face of my child and she is proof I have done something extraordinary and good and beautiful. I am grateful to be a mother. I am grateful that I have given children love and acceptance and have given joy to some children that never had any. I actually remembered this one little boy I used to work with in Sunday School (yes, Sunday School, when I was more "religious"). I worked with children ages 6-10 and for some reason I knew I could be the teacher and maternal figure many of them were lacking. I thought about Robert. Robert was 7 at the time. Robert had a lot of emotional and psychological issues that kept him from fully enjoying life. After an "episode" his father had to make the painful decision to admit him into a child psychiatric hospital. I could see the pain in his dad's eyes but I saw a moment of joy come back when I would come and visit Robert at the hospital. I would make pictures with him and read stories and just talk. Sometimes I think that's what I was meant to do. Reminded me also of Riley. Riley was a little boy who would not respond to tutors because he had Autism, ticks, ADHD and ADD. I asked to give it a shot. I found that all Riley needed was some love and a little "silly". I bought him a copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends" and sat there and read the poetry with him one tutoring session. His mom, Jan, was elated. It was the first time in her son's 8 years that he actually showed a focused interest in reading. Riley was a genius. As was Robert. Robert put his first computer together at the age of 3. Sometimes when one faculty is taken away, another one is given in its stead.

I am grateful for the gifts I've been given. I am grateful to be a mother. I am grateful I believed in you when you lost your house. I'm grateful I believed in you when you told me of your loss. I am grateful you took care of me when I couldn't. I am grateful I didn't give up. I am grateful I won't lose hope. I am grateful for the party I threw at the Tiki Room (PDC). I am grateful I needed Skin Medica (Bestie). I am grateful for Calvary (Tanta). I a grateful for FB (Jess). I am grateful you looked through your window. I am grateful to have forgotten one last box. I am grateful you told me of your struggles. I am grateful for being strong. I am hoping to be a better friend. I am hoping to believe in love. I am hoping to be the best example of loving, because my baby deserves that. It takes a lot to admit you've been wrong, but it takes even more to recognize the beauty within yourself. I'm not pointless. Neither are you. Neither are any of us. But if we don't stop beating ourselves up and start healing what we can heal, it doesn't matter. I'm not without hope. I believe I'm worth a second chance. I believe I'm NOT worth losing faith in. That's not easy to say. To those of you who continue to see past the mistakes and love me anyway, I am SO grateful for you. You are extraordinary and in case I don't say it enough, you are my gifts. Harold, Yvette, Linnea, Trista, Shana, Lakeia, Jesse, Anthony, Karsten, Mr. Jones, Mayumi, Tama, Maxime, David, Liz, LoLo --- thank you for the continual love, encouragement, and reminder that I've done a lot of "right" in my life. You are shining examples of that.

Happy Thanksgiving...
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Sometimes people look at mom's who have that "holy hell, get me a drink and get me one fast" look and think those moms are crazy. Mind you they didn't just have the swinging roller coaster of emotion that you just did as you're 3 year-old "tween-in-training" gives you kisses and hugs you and tells you how much she loves you only to turn into the closest thing related to the exorcist because you said "no" and she kicks and screams and tells you you're a horrible mom, mean, and wishes you would just disappear forever. Forever! How. dare. you. The truth is, we wonder what's going on too, but then after the enormous and strangely hysterical tantrum our child just threw, we want to hug and squeeze them (and yes, sometimes imagine we were Samantha from "Bewitched" so we could just freeze time, drink a bottle of wine, do a yoga routine to center our "inner self", and get in a two-hour nap).
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“Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you.”

 

Nothing in life seems more soaring and more painful than love. The very emotion that cannot be explained away by science or religion is the one emotion that gives all of us that insatiable appetite to feel it. It is the reason we breathe and hope and dream and the thing that can also tear us down and break us. I've been in love, I have loved, I do love, I have been traumatized by love, I have been rejuvenated by love. I have been tormented by loved and saved by love. I have experienced love not merely romantic, but parental, innate, encouraging... I thought I knew what love really was until I became a mother. All of a sudden love takes a turn. It becomes raw and fragile, hopeful and enslaving. It makes you go so deep inside of yourself and it cannot be contained. I see my child and I see love. Pure, whole, untainted, unbiased, and beautiful. 

 

And then I think of that "other half" love. The kind I once believed in. The kind I thought could break through any wall and I realized I'm wrong. It may exist but perhaps I've been too battered to even allow it. Maybe the truth is I will go through life alone - not without love but without a mate. A partner. I will not place that burden on anyone. Perhaps I ask too much. Perhaps I am unwilling to see that maybe I am so strong and expect so much, love is not possible. I know everyone carries a burden but really? Why does this have to be mine? Why so much suffering? I just can't understand.

 

It can be exhausting to wait. To want. To hope. But if we do nothing and give up, we end up with nothing. I face the failure of loving head on because maybe one day, I'll get it right. Maybe one day, there will be another half. And if not, I will find a way to make myself whole and hope a bit harder.



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success without a person to share it with is like a face without a smile

 

“The most essential factor is persistence - the determination never to allow your energy or enthusiasm to be dampened by the discouragement that must inevitably come.”

 

the ultimate life lived is one where you can gray and weather and look back at the love you've given, the love you've shared, the people who have given you purpose. standing idle as time passes is not an option. opening your eyes and embracing everything is when that cadence of your heart begins to move again and somehow, in the melodic throws of possibility, we begin to live.  we can linger in moments of regret and dwell in the pools of disappointment or we can swim towards the glowing ocean of dreams and the continued realm of encouragement and belief in ourselves. to grow old knowing we have given love purely, we have fostered and nurtured the beauty and innocence of our children, we have lived each day moving towards a dream - that is when we can breathe. 


when I am old and my life is near its end (if I am able to live long enough to grow old) I want to look at my daughter and see the love we have shared. I want to know that I spent every moment of my life exploring the potential of goodness and beauty and that somehow I armed her with enough knowledge and faith in the impossible that she will be truly happy. that when I see her eyes I see hope and strength and know that her life is going to be rich with incredible joy and laughter, success and integrity, but above all - love. because at the end of the day what good are we if we do not love. love our children, love our friends, love our families, love another soul that might meet yours. 


life is far too unknown, in my opinion, to spend countless hours and days and years searching for what might happen when it's over. I'd much rather relish in what is and embrace every single opportunity, smile every chance I get, ignite passion, see cultures through untainted eyes, speak freely, accept others in this world who have truly beautiful hearts regardless of who they love or what they believe.


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