Reflections 518 and Other Distractions

I think a lot about the Roger thing ... and I shouldn't.  This book is helping me to understand why that is.  She talks about something called RSD or rejection sensitive dysphoria.  I may or may not exactly have it.  What I do know is the sense of loss I felt after the shift in his intentions left me with a deep desire to hold on even as my brain could clearly see that he quite intentionally offered nothing worth holding on to. This, the pages of this journal are a mess of my feelings and my trying to give meaning to my feelings so I'm totally an unreliable narrator.  I learn something new about myself almost every day.  I don't like the idea that I'm irrational but when it comes to feelings (love - whatever that is) I am and that awareness doesn't make me a better lover.  My instinct to protect myself starts to battle with  my desire to love and be loved and I subconsciously or unconsciously sabotage.  I lose any sense of self that I might have had prior.  I don't have a strongly held sense of self because I've always had some idea of what goes into the making of me so I'm willing to change my mind and behaviors though not so good at changing the behaviors I see.  I don't often have anyone to talk to about the things that are important to me and so the loss was traumatic when he stopped coming over.  I loved his visits to my porch so much I might have done anything to make them continue and though he expressed his willingness to accept anything... he never again offered his company in the way he had and nothing else had any real value to me. 

Part of the reason I don't just erase all connection to him from everything I own is that I learned some time after being with him that he had video equipment in his living room. That was not my best moment.  As a matter of fact if I am going to be ashamed of anything it is that.  I was uncomfortable.   I sensed something theatrical about his behavior and it made me more uncomfortable. I started talking about education because it was my safe place (facepalm)  I hadn't been with anyone for years. I could only see good in him.  That experience was enlightening but it was hard to extricate the feelings I had developed over so long when he lost interest. I came to the conclusion that he watches porn and maybe has an addiction.  Another reason I don't delete is because I have a few well written phrases and pages in here that I'm really proud of. ... but I can write others as I write a new story, right?   He's not evil; he's just the result of his life experiences.  In my case, I have no desire to pretend anything. I've sought truth my whole life, even my own truths like, why am I this way?  What is wrong with me?  Will I ever be loved?  Am I loveable?  Am I capable of loving someone in the ways they need to be loved? I don't like these questions because they make me seem weak but I have them.  I don't live in that pitiful energy though.  Quite frankly, survival requires too much of me to do that.  And as feelings are stupid and complex I am still drawn to the sight of him which makes my fight or flight kick in... and because my sense of humor doesn't quit I once thought that he and I needed a sign out sheet so that we could use the outdoors at different times. That way, he doesn't intrude on my meditation and send me into a fantasy land from which I have to drag myself  like a toddler from the candy aisle.  But other men exist, other tall men exist, other men with listening ears exist... men for whom I'm not a simple challenge... men for whom women are more than the owners of untried vaginas ...maybe?  That may be harsh but it's what I suspect  and still I don't hold onto bitterness but I am still hurt and trying to release that.  I just hope to be smarter in the future and I'm trying not to shut down that part of me.  But that moment was kind of perfect because I didn't have to change anything about my world he just walked into it regularly to talk to me and I LOVED it. He came to me.  I'm still trying to fully let it go. It's time.  To not respond to my texts is a statement. I wish he knew words.  He only speaks to me in silences and I do resent that.... and then I work again to let that resentment and all that is connected to it go.  I was made to love not hate so I won't hate him.  I will fully release him and hope that my many regrets go too. 

Was it all because of my mind's ability to go deep and hold on.    I get stuck in a cycle of hurt from which I want to extract pleasure but cannot. Another unfinished project that must remain so.  The problem is that it was going to be my greatest masterpiece.

Oof!

Today is my 2nd born's birthday.   I have a lot to write but I'm so tired that my eyelids are heavy.  I wanted to do a workout but I didn't sleep well last night.  

I sent him a recording of a book I used to read to them. My phone call didn't go through this morning and I panicked.  I was so worried.  He's the only one of my children who doesn't live near me. 

I'm listening to a book and reading a book. I'm listening to a book called, "ADHD for Smart Ass Women"  by Tracy Otsuka.  Every few minutes I let out an audible "ooooh" as she describes the way that I am and reminds me that I need to work to change everything about my life that is not in line with the way my brain works.  I think my brain is tired from being forced to fit spaces that are unnatural and I keep taking on more and more of such responsibilities as I try to make ends meet. 

Some years ago, I started to read Dr. Gabor Mate's Scattered Minds... and in the first chapter I started crying because that was me.  I was reading the book as a teacher and a mom but he described my experience.  My mother dealt in shame.  That's all she knew.  Then one day she would look at me and say, "You're not ashamed of anything."  I'm not.  I can speak my truths.  I know my heart. I still have to read the end of the book... another book caught my attention. lol  I might have started that book 20 books ago.  Being infinitely curious can be problematic.  

This, this space has been my friend.  I've come here to be allowed to talk about the many things going through my head at any given time or to try to put down an obsession time and again.  One such obsession was Roger quite simply because he didn't seem to be put off by my whirlwind of thoughts. I thought I could share them with him.  I loved that.... but when I got quiet and analyzed the shift I realized that he had no interest.  He was present until he could check off a box, a challenge he'd given himself - I sometimes hope karma rewards him greatly for that.  It was an act of God that he didn't reply to my text yesterday. I can be impulsive and I wanted to send him something I saw on Instagram but as it could be perceived as offensive I wanted his permission.  He didn't reply so I didn't send it but also he didn't reply.  It was awful and coincidentally very funny but in a dark way.  He might not have appreciated it.

The book that I'm reading is actually a workbook.  I listened to the accompanying book.  It is by Dr. Nicole LePera and is called, How to Meet Your Self.  I'm already familiar with many of the ideas about how our habits are formed and then shapes our ideas of our identity... but I haven't taken the time to rewrite the script and so I begin that now.

On the exercise front I found some exercises that are amazing but they are awful for my belly.  I'm going to bind my belly and continue to do them while also doing the excises to close the diastasis recti I've had since giving birth to E & Z.  Exercise makes me feel so good and I can't stand not doing exercises that make me feel strong.  The exercises to close the muscle in my middle are slow and gentle.  They are not what makes my brain feel good.  I'm going to try to do both. We'll see what happens.  

I'm beginning to feel hopeful again, like really hopeful.  I've started to make big plans and I'm excited about all that follows.  I saw a job offer for something I am uniquely qualified to do and am considering applying for that as well but in the back of my mind I really think I should go big and that is not big.  I think I should reach beyond what I feel solidly qualified to do and into what I am capable of learning because it aligns with the way my brain works. 

I want to learn the skill of appreciating that some things simply weren't meant for me and are therefore not a loss.  I can see that but I can't seem to convince my feelings and it's so very uncomfortable and inconvenient.  

What if we both just want to be wanted but neither of us want the other?  

For a long time I've felt secretly like a disaster.  I don't understand most of the praise I receive and I'm grateful but I don't need it.  I want to flourish.  I want to create.  I want to communicate.  I want to indulge my brain.  My current book has made me feel seen because I have insisted, to myself and for myself, for years that I am fine and my brain is magnificent.   I remembered Sarama Moses and the many people who surrounded me as a child who didn't see me.  I was the child who was lost in thought and I'm the adult who wants to go back there just a bit and get some things that I need in order to thrive right now.   I want to create my own worlds again but this time not from loneliness and invisibility but to capture love and beauty.  

I was going to complete the workbook more of the workbook but that'll have to wait.  Shower. Dinner. Bed. 

Respite

It was a good day off.  I realized, after using my neighbor as my muse again, that I need a new muse, an interactive one.  I can't force that poor man to be my muse  even if it requires nothing of him.  I wrote so many more messages than I sent him and each one I sent I wished I had the luxury of the conversation.  The magical push and pull of a real conversation.  It's not who he has decided to be and I accept that.   I don't know why he reads my messages.  Maybe just because they go to his phone.  I find myself honored but also I imagine it to be a little bit like picking up a discarded lottery ticket, seeing it wasn't a winner and simply throwing it back to the ground.  

Anyway, I'm tired and happy because life is presenting me with options and I am deeply grateful for the solutions that seems to be lining my path.   

I made plans today that absolutely excite me.  It's been a long time since I've felt excited about anything. 

The Lift; The Shift

Peace has been such an urgent need in my life. I find that I've simply become someone who seeks it and it's time for me to move beyond that energy because realizing my potential means embracing my power and I cannot do that if I'm completely averse to conflict.  I guess I'm a bit wounded.  I wince and shrink a bit.   The thing is it's the people closest to me, the people from whom I cannot escape.  I have a child who is defiant and messy.  I lovingly call him my donkey.  He just spreads out and doesn't care how his choices affect me or the family at all. I don't know how to civilize him.  He has so many amazing characteristics that should help him find success but he is seeking only good times and comfort. He doesn't, at this moment, realize that those things come at my expense.  

In this moment I have so much to do that it's hard to begin.  I have two additional roles for work that I have to plan for and then I have to plan the remainder of the year for my regular classes.  In addition to that I'm trying to focus my energies in my personal life to begin the shift.  I have some reading to do; I made a commitment to myself to finish this one book before picking up another one. I sometimes listen to a few books at a time depending on whether or not I want to be informed or entertained and then I have to consider the text level and my fatigue level.  In addition to that, my knucklehead is sick so I need to take care of him.  During Covid I thought, this kids going to fucking kill me, because he cares about no one but himself and when we were supposed to be in he went and visited his friends and just left me feeling furious and defeated.  It doesn't make me angry as much as it hurts me.  It's like an act of violence against me and the rest of the family. He, of course, doesn't see it. 

I also have to go buy healthy snacks for the week so that I don't eat junk food.  ... I still have to finish the week's laundry too... and I'm sitting here trying to figure out where to begin.

It's so wonderfully rainy, I might put on a raincoat and go put some seeds in the ground too. 

All Over the Place

 ..and then we reach a point in which there is simply no energy to invest in the thought that once consumed you.  You accept that true growth is a lonely project and you acquiesce because there's nothing to hold you.  You've dragged your feet and looked longingly at the many things you wished would hold you, but other things hold their attention and so you breathe deeply and commit. 

There were lessons, painful lessons:

Time marches on.  You've named the changes your body is undergoing.  Time is precious.   It's your fault but bears another's name. You can only ever look forward because the story ends and you've always wanted to be the author and so, to the extent that God will allow, you accept this one responsibility - your own health and happiness.  You now recognize that it's all yours, you are aware of its depth and fragility.  Only you can see all of the people and events that are tied to it and release them one by one.

There's been such a total shift in thinking.  It's as if the universe is taking me by my face and pointing me in the direction I might now go.  

Not goal driven, experience driven.  These moments have to be fueled by the sun and the soil and the sounds an feels that are near me, that are real, both the ones that are here and now and the ones I can create.  I must release the energy that got me to this moment in order to continue to rise.    I've been in survival mode for so long and feelings of lack keep me here.  So, I practice gratitude...  I will give.

For a moment, my fantasy was to rest in safe arms.  The struggle left me with a weariness, a fatigue.  I thought if I had a secure place I would heal and my frequency would change (I wanted to believe that I could write the story and define what that was) but instead every defense mechanism I've ever developed awakened and I was unhappiness, and loneliness, and confusion.  I suddenly didn't know me.  I wasn't someone I could be proud of. I was an abandoned child, unseen.  I turned over every feeling and inspected it.  I explored the worst I could be and searched for the best but in neither of those moments could I just accept... I tried blame to see if that would ease the ache to no avail.  I had, like a flower that blooms before the last frost, taken a chance and it went wrong but there are other iterations of me.  I forgive her and I love that she would not willfully hurt anyone no matter how much she longed to be close.  I love that she would not accept scraps.  There were fleeting moments in which she thought scraps might be nice and the war inside her was fierce but the answer came back the same. 

... and I was grateful that there was no tenderness offered and that he couldn't interpret my love language. I can laugh at the fact that if he had ever touched me lovingly even a restraining order wouldn't have kept me away.  He never let me open. I don't know if he understood what he did or didn't do but it kept me over here contemplating and no matter how I hoped or tried to imagine, he chose to be a one dimensional character in my story which he needn't know was quite the heroic act. 

I met my inner child.  That foolish girl thought that if she was honest with people they would be honest with her, that if she was open, they would be, she believed that her safe place might be in another person, and that there was someone stronger than her who would protect it.  It was quite a lesson to learn and the final exam was short and quiet.  It was one question.  And life went on. 

I'm refining my wants:

I want to heal the family timeline.

I don't want to be tied to anyone else's schedule.  I need to be able to cook and eat and meditate and read and dance and exercise when I feel like it and when I don't.

I want time to be in my own mind, to clean house, to create, to reflect and be a better human.  I want my work to be inspired.

I want to make my home a sacred place I enjoy being and to do that I need to purge and redecorate. It's time. 

March 20th

I've had asthma for a few days and I've been really tired.  This week is full of meetings. I'm about to focus on healing but I just had cheese pizza for dinner.  Not my best moment but my phone wasn't working.  I think.

It's hard to see through this fatigue.  The plan is to sit through this 3hr meeting, hope it ends early and then practice some self care before going to bed.  I'm going to go make a cup of tea before my meeting.  I have to turn my energy inward again.  One thing I did not learn in life is how exactly to spend my energy.  I find it is too often outgoing and yet....  It's time for change. 

March 14th

 I haven't written in a while.  I've been mostly focused on my body, exercising daily and eating the right foods.  It's anyone's guess how that's going.  I'm increasing my cardio as I start weight training tomorrow - I hope.  I haven't been doing so good with the intermittent fasting.  In a moment here I'll start some evening exercises.  I think I'm going to do cardio and strength in the mornings and yoga stretches and exercises to close my belly muscle in the evening before bed.  

I've been doing well.  No more senseless aches.  I'm accepting and almost embracing.  Time marches on and change comes and when you try to see tomorrow through yesterday's lens it's frightening but if I can stay in the moment each one is beautiful.  

My work as a mother is not complete. 

I impulse bought two dresses while in a zoom meeting because ... spring. 

I'm excited to return to my studies.  Right now I feel like I MUST complete the certificate because I said I would and now I give myself until June.   That way I can go into the summer feeling like I've accomplished something but I am leaning toward creation and I wonder if that chore is simply a distraction.  I have a purpose, I think.  I have some gifts and I'm not sure that that area of study is even one in which I can utilize my gifts.