Timing Not Right?

How many times in my life have I thought about trying something but because the timing just wasn't right in my mind, opted out? I couldn't begin to keep track. But I can look back and see that most of my biggest regrets came from trying to wait for the perfect time.  Sometimes my idea of perfect timing was based on what I felt other people would approve of. Sometimes it was based upon my religious beliefs. Other times it was based on what I felt was needed for other people... and under all of it was fear.

Fear of not being successful, fear of hurting someone else, fear of hell, fear of offending others... I know I am not the only person who looks back and wishes I could be looking back on more 'failures' than lack of trying. There are also a multitude of those classic cases of hindsight being 20/20 and realizing that if I had done (or tried) for what would have genuinely made me happy, then life would have been better for those who depended upon me too! 

But part of trying is realizing that other people are going to feel its not good timing for them. Thus, as I start to try more in my life, I find myself with many opportunities to either wait for other people or move along. Leading me to a simple question with no simple answers: is there anyone who is worth putting my life on hold for? Naturally when it comes to our children we must alter our thinking in order to put them first... but children thrive in a variety of situations and I wish I had been braver in chasing my own needs as well as theirs when they were younger. Back to the question- I am personally leaning toward saying there is no one worth putting our lives on hold for. Why? Because we don't know what's ahead. Because anyone who would want us to stop looking forward and chasing our goals/dreams is not someone who genuinely loves us. And because when it comes to people who really need us, there are usually creative ways to keep moving forward- even if its just slowly (like needing to care for an ill parent, etc.). 

It sucks realizing that the fulfillment of a wish or dream is ultimately in another person's hands. But ironically it is also what would make the end result more wonderful; knowing that person loves you back or believes in you too. And I recently put myself 'out there'. It was scary and hard and I don't regret it one bit. But it left that wish in someone else's hands and the time isn't right for them. It may never be right for them and I have to be okay with that. Because I don't know what's ahead for me and I'm not going to stop chasing after dreams. They will just be different dreams. And now that I've put myself out there, people can know where I stand, what my feelings are. They can choose to come along on this wild ride or follow their own path. 

That would have been a pretty little end to this post right up there. But it brought up another thought for me. Isn't it amazing and wonderful how our own dreams naturally alter and merge with a loved one when they choose to join us? When two people both care about each other so much that they want to see the other person's dreams and goals fulfilled they become one beautiful entity of sorts in this messy world of ours. Of course that sounds like a perfect little situation and we should all know my now that isn't reality. But when I say that, I say it knowing about the inevitable disagreements and hurts and curveballs life likes to throw. And I view the reality of two people in love through all of those challenges beautiful. 

The Question of Identity

Recently I have been thinking about where people get their feeling of self, their identity. What makes me feel special and unique? To what ideals, things or facts do I turn when I need validation? The natural progression (for me anyway) in this thought process was to where do I want to find my identity and how do I shift from things, ideals or facts that are not healthy?

For example, some people find their identity in appearance. If they are feeling down it may be because they do not feel attractive for any reason and a new haircut or manicure might be just what they need to feel more secure in themselves. And I see nothing wrong with that- if their sense of identity serves them well! But for some it can spiral into unhealthy obsessions like eating disorders. Some people find their identity in religion. What happens if their religious beliefs let them down?

My life has changed so much over the last few years. I placed great value in my religious beliefs, in being a mother and a wife. So now that I am a divorced woman with children who are rapidly starting to leave the nest, I've been floundering! I also know that I find my worth (or lack thereof) not only in what other people think of me but also in my appearance. And right there we have another issue to consider. It seems as though if our self-worth or identity is found in the approval of others- whether they are our parents, spouses, children, friends, or strangers: we are setting ourselves up to feel really awful. I know this from experience!

I will take this even a step further and say I believe we judge others based upon the things that define our own identities. When I was a very religious person I believed everyone else should be and if they weren't, I was in some way superior. Not that I would have admitted it- but it was there. I would catch myself comparing my appearance to others and even how successful my children were with other people's children. Welcome to crazy town!

Now, as I find myself in a long process of rethinking my core beliefs and identifying issues I wish to change about myself, I am finding that much of this process is identifying and simply being aware of those core beliefs and whether or not they line up with my goals. It seems like this should be simple. Like as soon as I notice I am thinking in a habitual way and that it does not line up with my goals, well then I ought to banish the thought and use affirmations or something to build up a new way of thinking. Maybe it really is that simple for some folks. But that method ignores the gut-wrenching feelings that do leave me all twisted up.

In my spiritual path I wish to be someone who does not judge others but instead focuses on my own issues. I plan to research and surround myself with knowledge about my beliefs so that I can speak clearly if I am asked. I see a need for growth in caring less about what others (especially my family!) think of me and more about what is true, right, and kind. I choose to be kind. I want to base my identity less upon my appearance but place greater value on my health. I choose to encourage my children to be the very best them they can be. They don't need me comparing them or any other children to them: they are fantastic!

Of course that is just a short list of my goals. But I am hopeful that as I successfully alter the things, ideals, and facts from which I glean my own identity, it will help me move closer to being the person I wish to be.

And I get this feeling that I am only comprehending the very tip of this iceberg!

Winter Solstice 2013

I had big plans for starting a new tradition this Winter Solstice. The kids and I had pallets and regular wood and firestarters and some sort of salt stuff that makes the fire burn different colors. We were going to make a big bonfire with friends on the snowy, icy beach and turn loose those paper lanterns after we lit them to float off into the sky. It was going to be beautiful.

Icy rain fell all that afternoon and by evening time I knew there was no way with my leg and cane I would be able to safely maneuver about on the rocky beach. I knew the kids would be miserable and that there was no sense in trying to make a family tradition they would despise. It was so frustrating!

But then I went online. One of my high school friends had posted that her parents had been in an accident and was asking people to pray. Her Mom happened to be someone I considered a friend and was dear to my heart. It was a shock to hear but... my mind at that time would not even consider the possibility that anything could go horribly wrong. It just couldn't.

A few hours later my friend posted again. Her mother, this dear, sweet woman, had died.

How can I write about something that really has not even processed in my own mind? Logically I know she is no longer with us, but it still seems too horrible to be true.

This Solstice has been one of sadness, of cold. As I was pondering and feeling this, I read Starhawk's blog post about her frustrations and the coldness of this winter solstice. Her final words in this post grabbed me:

Yet I need this year’s cleansing.  I need the great elemental forces to wash through me and carry away some of this grief and renew my faith in life’s resilience.

So tonight I embrace the cold.  Call it in—cold is what we need, to cool the overheated earth, to bring back the rains.  I offer up the fire, to the snowy plover, to all the endangered species, to everything and everyone whose simple birthrights are stolen.

Let this be the Solstice magic.  Tides turn.  Miracles happen.

Out of darkness, light is born.

I am in agreement. I need the symbolism that day was to bring. The releasing of the hurts of the year; the turning from the longest night toward more light. So cold it is. While fire is comforting and there is something lovely about gathering around it with loved ones, cold grabs one by the throat. There is nothing gentle about cold. But there is still a cleansing feeling in the cold.

I went out on my porch without my coat or hat and let the cold engulf me. Breathing it in and feeling it seep through my clothes, startle my skin. I do not have to be religious to be spiritual and it was the spiritual moment I had been hoping to bring about with the comfort of the fire. I cried for the loss of this lovely woman and the hurts of the past year, the fears and uncertainty in my future. But I also felt a deep sense of joy and peace in the ability of humanity to adapt and improvise.

Merry Christmas/Yule/Winter Solstice!

Its so easy to judge. So easy to be angry and sensitive.

On the other side (I am refusing to go mainstream and say flip side) its also easy to be a doormat, hold everything in and try to make everyone happy.

And thus we return to the topic of balance in all aspects of life! This is a constant challenge and blogging actually helps me to spot it in my life. Sadly I generally don't see it right away but I am hoping that as I practice looking for ways in which I am out of balance I will come closer to living consciously, seeing the choices rather than just skipping along down the well worn path.

One of the issues that has cropped up with this holiday season has been the topic of religion/beliefs that surround the season. It should be simple, right? I believe we need to respect everyone's beliefs so I should be living that. And then I find posts like the one to the left. Ignorance at it's finest. And yes- there I go judging again!

Who are we, who is anyone, to shove their beliefs down another person's throat? Why is it so difficult to recognize that simply because we believe something then anyone who doesn't is wrong and we should aggressively tell them so? Initially I was just trying to quietly flow with my beliefs but as these posts began I found myself getting downright militant about not saying Christmas, not "liking" or commenting on anything someone said that involved that word and feeling a deep anger when I heard it. I knew my emotions were ugly but wasn't sure how I needed to deal with this new challenge.

It was at this time that I came across a blog that I wish I could reference here. I have searched many times but cannot find her again. She is of Wiccan belief and was writing about her difficulties with this very issue. She had also been raised in a Christian home but as she grew up, accepted the Wiccan faith. Initially she would feel a deep offense by all the Christmas decorations etc. because she had researched and knew that the origins of this holiday are Pagan.

For those who have not read up on this here and here and here will give you some starting places.

So going back to my mystery blogger, she realized that she did not want to be like the militant people who insist upon calling the season by a particular name. She was focusing on the differences and the ignorance rather than doing what she genuinely believed: accepting people where they are. Needless to say, this really hit home with me. I am not Wiccan but I do share some of their views- a major one being acceptance. The blogger was able to find humor in the whole situation because of the pure irony of the true origins versus the insistence to believe otherwise.

I love this meme by Nancy Eve Dalin. It is based on facts and backed up by scientific data. I know it isn't popular. Because 76% of the country believes one thing while only the 24% feel differently.

Personally I am working on just letting go. Letting go of the angers and hurts and embracing unity. My home will be celebrating the Winter Solstice. Not for religious reasons but rather because it is another opportunity to gather and create more memories. We will also celebrate Yule/Christmas/Xmas. For the same reasons. But I choose to recognize that my family's choices are not the same as everyone else's and if someone wants to say Merry Christmas I will be saying it right back, with a smile inside and out.

Guilt

Tonight my oldest daughter matter of factly informed me of how she had made plans to run away during the time when her adopted father had been abusing her. She had calculated the costs to live and she and her friends had elaborate plans for covering for each other. The other girls were making plans so they could be with their boyfriends. No one asked my baby why she needed to get away. No one knew her deep pain and the years of abuse. Not even her Mom.

When I think of her I do not just see the young woman she is now. Somehow I see all those years- from the first time I held her and she looked like a little, red, squalling elf to the adorable, feisty little red-headed toddler to the shy kindergartener to the advanced, intelligent elementary school student and on. She has always had and old soul you can see in her eyes and she has always had a deep, deep strength and determination. She prides her self in her high pain tolerance, her high IQ, her insatiable quest for knowledge (the search for which led to her collecting old physics and psych books from thrift stores for light reading at night).

But what she doesn't admit in that pain, that pain buried so deeply because its too big to face. To hear her talk I would not recognize it either if it was not for the fact that I'm her Mom. That I heard the little quiver in her voice mixed with the stoic tone she gets when talking about something like this. I know she wasn't trying to hurt me. Hell, she spent so many years trying to protect me. Thinking she had to care for me. And why? Because that monster, her abuser, told her that if she told me what he was doing to her then I would be heart broken. It was too much of a burden. Something no child should have to face.

When she talked about her plans tonight over the phone, calling from college, it was like a knife in my gut all over again. Every time I think I'm moving past the guilt of not seeing what she was going through, of not being the Mom she needed, of not making as much time for her as I should have... Well I thought I was not so vulnerable in that area. But something like this cuts past the bullshit and goes straight to those feelings in me. I think of how when she was little, I held her and was so thankful she was in my life. I tried to do it all perfect. Breastfeeding, a natural birth so she would not have painkillers in her system when she was born, only natural solid foods (until Dad snuck her the good stuff!). I would swear to her I was going to be the best Mom I could, that even though I was so young and even though life wasn't perfect- it wouldn't matter because she could always count on me.

I can see the downward spiral when I look back over the years. I can see times when I should have found a way to really listen. Times when I should have taken her more seriously. Times when I was busy with other things and I left her feeling like she wasn't as important. And it led to her feeling that he was right. That she couldn't count on me. That she had to champion herself. And what twists the knife is thinking of how very lonely my so very loved girl must have felt as she made plans to escape the abuse. How she spent hours in the bathroom because it was the only door that locked in the house.

Is there anything I can do now to nullify the pain for her? Yes, when she told me I protected her. I went to court. I divorced her abuser. I stood for her. And I hope it eased her pain some to know I chose her. To know I believe her. To know I would and will always fight her battles if she lets me. But I can never go back and change the times I didn't stand for her. The times she still remembers and hurts deep deep inside. I didn't really keep my promise.

Does good come from any of this? She is amazing. Maybe she would not be as independent and strong. But the cost- the price we paid for the wisdom and knowledge gained was too high. I can't wish I could rewind and do better at protecting her because I have two other children who needed me too. But part of me does anyway. And I don't know if I will ever not feel this guilt.

My Dark Side

Artwork by AnnaPostal666

Over the past few days I have had an idea dancing about at the edge of my thoughts. It started when I reviewed my blog. I hadn't known that I had some posts here from 2009. I also elected to go through my facebook posts and delete things. Looking at the posts from before my divorce compared to more recent ones it is like looking at the thoughts of two different people. I am not that person anymore. When I read the posts they seem so shallow, so fake. I chose to be optimistic about everything. Sometimes I wasn't successful, but I denied even to myself all the truths, the realizations about myself I have come face to face with over the past couple of years.

I used to get defensive really easily. Someone would point out an imperfection or get too close to the hidden ugliness inside and I would lash out. Oddly I now seek out those ugly parts. I still feel surprise sometimes when I see them but if people ask me about something I openly tell them. I have good things about me, but I am introducing myself to my dark side. Perhaps it was destined to happen at some point. Maybe I would have gone my whole life in blissful denial. But I believe the jolt I experienced when reality and my beliefs about myself and the world around me so clearly did not match brought on a string of inner changes.

I'm still learning about this part of me. I'm still learning to not only accept the reality of the imperfection but hoping that in the accepting I will learn to become a genuinely beautiful honest person inside. My outside will likely never be what I wish for. But I hope that as I grow to accept and learn to work through my issues rather than denying them, I will become a healthier person. And not just inside.

It is a struggle to find words to accurately describe the process I find myself in. I keep circling back to the name of the blog- it is a journey. I optimistically called it a healing one. So perhaps this dark side of me is not all-encompassing, perhaps I am learning to integrate those parts of me I try so hard to hide.

One issue that comes to mind is the deep down fears I have. You know those issues that are so deeply buried for self-preservation? There is a part of me that just knows I will never be genuinely free to live life with abandon while I hold to those fears. And yet, if I am not cautious and share them with people who will use them against me or tease me etc, I will bury those fears deeper. Its amazing the depth and strangeness we can find within ourselves.

I am slowly beginning to remove or limit exposure to people who are not accepting of me. To people who believe that I am toxic because I believe differently than they do, who tell me I need to go back to the person I was.

Even as I write this I just feel like I'm not successfully putting to words what is in my head. Why does that task get harder when I move closer to topics that strike at the core of me?

Dream On

I had not known it was possible to sleep as long as I do and still need more sleep. It's the REM deprivation I am trying to catch up on and it has brought a return of dreams. Yes- I know REM sleep is not where the dreaming happens but that stage has returned in my sleep cycle as well. I'd noticed a lack of dreams but had kind of appreciated it. I tend to have a hard time shaking them when I wake up, even if I can't remember them. Perhaps that is normal! I had a dream last night that my youngest daughter and I were on our way to drop her off at school when we came upon a giant moose in the road at 60 mph and had a terrible wreck. I remember holding her hand, she was terrified and I couldn't hug her because something had impaled my gut. And I remember just being really thankful she was okay but hoping I would live longer to be with them.

Ugh even writing about it, I am seeing her frightened eyes in my mind, and headlights hitting the moose... driving her to school this morning took all my emotional strength! Especially after we passed a moose on the side of the road, eating some birch bark.

I have noticed that my dreams can usually fall under a few simple headings: mundane normal life, things that terrify me, and things I wish for.

Mundane daily life is a confusing thing. I often dream myself through a normal morning routine only to wake confused that I have to do it all over again. Why would my mind go there? Does it enjoy doing those tasks over and over? Does anyone else dream like that? And a crazy thing about this type of dream is that I get feelings of deja vu when I then find myself in the middle of those mundane things I dreamed about. Getting a
shiver while picking up a product at the grocery store because I did it once in my dreams makes me laugh.

Things that terrify me- obviously last night's dream fell under that heading! I had a major one when the kids were little. My son's head was level with the kitchen counters at the time and in my dream I was chopping a salad. Having been raised by a baker and having the belief that giant knives are always the better option drilled into my head, I was using an oversized butcher knife to chop lettuce. I lifted the knife out of the way to talk to one of the kids and following sharp-things-rules I had the knife by the handle, pointed down. And then it slipped just as my son was walking by under it. In my mind's eye I can still see the horrifying image of my son's face, looking shocked, with a knife handle sticking out the top of his precious little head. After that dream I only bought pre-cut lettuce for years. If I was in a jam, I would rip the lettuce or I would ask someone to do the job for me. It was so embarrassing that I didn't tell anyone about it for so long and finally had to force myself to start chopping again until I got past the fear.

But I do believe it hit on a deep fear I still carry. What if I inadvertently mess up my kids? I'm trying to do right by them and be the best mom I can. But I believe its normal to worry. Perhaps not to the extent I took it.... but we have such an important position in their lives. And they are innocent little people. I wanted and still wish for their lives to be as perfect as possible. Now, I just wish for them to know above all that no matter what, their Mom loves them and has their back.

When I dream of things I wish for I always wake up smiling and then have to go through a short little period of acceptance. Perhaps in a dream I am thin and happy, at the little cabin I want to buy someday, with my herd of goats outside making noise while the fire crackles and I spin wool from my sheep that I dyed in bright, happy colors. A special someone is relaxing with some of our home brewed beer. And I can see the details of the little things around the house. Smell the fire... And then the most hideous noise! My alarm. And to waken not thin, my little dog dancing around on top of me wanting to go out... well. You can see how such dreams can be both inspiring and kind of sad! In reality, who knows what my future will hold. I just happen to hope it has some goats, sheep, and lots of knitting and creativity.

Tackling another Controversial topic

I'm not a vegetarian. But I've thought about it, even tried to. Maybe someday I will be successful in that area. There is so much controversy out there about the way animals are treated. And its easy to turn a blind eye, to just seen the packaged meats in the grocery store and not think any further.

But the pictures creep into our lives and if you are the curious sort, like I am, you dig a bit deeper. And I learned (perhaps this should have been obvious to be, I just never imagined it) that lamb really is the baby sheeps, not the adults. And veal really is the baby cows. And the picture I am guilty of laughing at too- the one with a cow stuck halfway over a fence? There is a story behind it. That's a mother cow trying to go after her babies who were taken away. I would do the same.

In all the controversy I've found myself frustrated by some things. First- the carnivores who get all judgy about the herbivores and vice versa. And then the belief that it has to be one way or the other- that all meat products are cruelly gotten and none should be eaten. I believe there is a middle ground. I can't feel right supporting the places who give the animals horrible poor quality of life. I still support them in my purchases, but my goal is not to.

But what if we were to free all the domesticated animals and not eat any things they produce or their meat? There have, to my knowledge, never been wild herds of chickens roaming the fields. While the pigs would go back to being wild, mean things, the chickens would go extinct. And why do this when there are animals who can live very happy lives with humans. If a family has some goats and they milk the momma goat after the babies are done nursing, than it hurts no one and the goats have warm, sheltered, happy lives. They sure don't mind being "exploited" for their brush clearing abilities! And the sheep can be warm and sheltered with food provided as well- When its done kindly I don't think they mind one bit giving up their winter coats in the spring.

And if hunters are using as much of the animal as possible and not giving them a long and horrible death than why not? These animals are allowed to grow up in the wild, doing their little animal thing.

I have an uncle who raises cows. Those happy cows are roaming about and named and live very happy little cow lives. Some will let you pet them while they eat. And then periodically he has them butchered. They are killed humanely and the meat is free of antibiotics and all that nastiness. Best of all, while I hate to think of them dying, I remember looking into their happy eyes and watching them laze about in the sun and I know they had a good time for a cow. Its people like that I want to support.

I get tired of people vehemently saying there is only one way or another. In this issue, as in many others, I believe there is a lot of middle ground.

Come Visit my Little Nightmare

Today I saw a post on facebook in which a woman thanked everyone for all the happy birthday wishes and commented on how blessed she felt to have so many lovely people in her life who care so much for her.

The immediate thought that came to my mind was of how incredibly grateful I am to know her. She's a short, funny little personality filled woman who is so proud to be 70 now. She works because she wants to and, as her husband said, it keeps her out of trouble. She gets at least one marriage proposal every summer (during the tourist times) and her response is: "lemme see your checkbook and if your rich enough I'll think about it".

She is like a magnet. People are drawn to her and, like me, they feel honored just to have her attention for a little while, to be able to call her a friend.

It dawned on me that I would love to be that sort of person. I used to share many of the qualities she has but since the divorce and my physical injury... I have built so many walls to protect myself. And it works well. It keeps people away.

As my divorce began and right on through the year-long hellish experience, I tried to keep myself focused on my goals: to keep the kids safe, get myself healthy, and not become a bitter, angry woman. Somewhere along the way, I lost... my way. I am angry. I am hurt. And, I'm certainly not healthy on any level.

They have lots of books out there for how to go through a divorce peacefully etc. Not one is aimed toward helping a woman through a divorce with a man who couldn't keep his hands off her daughter. I guess there isn't a very big audience to write for. Sometimes being unique can kind of suck. And everyone has advice- but not a one had really been in my shoes.

So now people say I should be over it. It's been more than 2 years- that magic span of time in which people supposedly recover. And as I look back I am realizing that rather than moving closer to my goal- even if only a tiny bit, I have taken giant steps away from it!

And now I am sitting here, looking at this screen and the little blinking cursor and feeling rather hopeless. I want to be that person- that magnetic woman who people are happy to know. I don't want to be bitter. I don't want to be so hurt that I protect myself in this shell. I don't want to continue with the destructive habits.

I have no one to blame but myself.

Just. Shut. Up.

I've heard all the wise quotes about thinking before I speak and it sounds like a simple enough task. I know some people around me wonder how I get myself into so much trouble. But it's not me, I swear: it's my big mouth!

I have learned some very important things.

1. It's not my job to offer my opinion to other people. Even if they are being really stupid and desperately need it.

2. Edit, edit, edit. Try to find the shortest way to get across what I'm trying to say. Both in writing and on paper.

3. People might say they want to hear my opinions and ideas: most of them are lying.

4. Speak with my actions more than my words

All of those things are lovely. And challenging. I'm still working on them. And I catch myself wandering off on verbal tangents frequently. Intriguing the way that when I pour my heart into something I have written, it is hard to edit. The slash of the pen is like a knife. And I worry: where is the line? If I take out too much then I lose my voice, the writing is no longer really uniquely mine. But leaving too much loses the reader.

My oldest daughter is like me. Before I made this realization, I was getting increasingly irritated because she would not just say something. No, she had to give examples and anecdotes and by the time she made her simple request or comment I would be so irritated I was grinding my teeth. Then I had a light bulb moment. I do the same thing. That young woman is me. I make people grind their teeth! A horrifying discovery for certain.

I had that discovery confirmed when I caught myself going off on a tangent (about the kids... that shouldn't count should it?!) in an e-mail conversation with my ex. And when I caught myself I explained my latest insight and "oh haha I likely drive you bananas with all my chatter" to which he replied.... nothing. That was clearly an opportunity for him to say oh no, I like to hear about the kids and whats happening in you all's lives! But no. I drive people nutty.

And so what sounds like the simplest of things is another mountain I need to climb. Learning to just shut up.

Keep stuffing them with worms (or, the beginning of my empty nest)

Empty Nest by M. Dalton

This morning started out very normal. I let the dog out, filled my water bottle... and then spotted a box on the dining room table. I didn't have my contacts in yet so I had to get really close to inspect it. At first I assumed it was our new microwave (one of the kids blew up the old one whilst experimenting with making fireworks... a whole other story) or something else I had ordered. But I flipped it to all sides and found no shipping label. Then I looked on the end. It was labeled. It was a box of my oldest daughter's books, ready for storage.

I've been struggling all morning with this one. My first child to leave the nest, my oldest daughter has packed her first box. I keep thinking I am ready for these firsts but they still seem to sneak up on me, knock me on my ass.

I know more boxes are coming. I know I will be finding a special place for storing her boxes. I will be keeping her room ready for her to use when she comes home for Christmas and any other vacations. But more than that, I know officially, she will be moving out and starting her separate life.

I know this is just the very beginning of the next phase, as my beloved little birds are trying their wings more and more in preparation for doing exactly what their older sister is doing: beginning a life that will not involve their mother on a daily basis.

Already signs of this are appearing. Just as my little dog.

Animals have their own routines for this time of life. Mother goats will begin to kick and chase their babies away. Mother moose will aggressively chase and bite their yearlings. Mother birds have been known to push reluctant little birds out of the nest. Of course, as far as I can tell the maternal animals just keep reproducing until they die with no regard for 'finding themselves' or starting a career or any of the other things we humans tend to aim for. Since it is not my goal in life to be breeding stock, I am recognizing that my thinking needs to change just a little bit and that there are more wounds I need to face, goals I need to adjust.

For example, as far as my kids are going to know, this mom will miss them like crazy, be so proud she can hardly stand it, and be super excited for them to start their adult lives. But moments like this morning and that one silly packed box knock me over. I keep having to pick myself back up and remind myself of the goal I've had since they were babies: to raise them to be self-sufficient (and hopefully able to afford to care for their mother in her old age), well adjusted adults. I'm meeting this goal! Now I need to slowly allow myself to work on setting and aiming for my next goals in life. For my focus to begin to change.

I realized I had not considered my plans for after the kids move out since I was married. And we did have big plans at that time. After all, we would be without children for the first time in the marriage since he married me when my oldest was a toddler. It was to be a time of getting to know each other more; of dual income and career building. A time of gourmet foods and watching the sunset. It was a lovely and exciting plan! But oops! Reality strikes again!

At least I still have 2 more to keep stuffing worms into

I can still look forward to quiet sunsets and sipping tea on the porch. I can still look forward to a quiet house and much lower grocery bills. I can still look forward to building a career I can enjoy and that will support me. And hopefully, I'll add some more little dreams along the way. In the meantime I am thinking I ought to start small. Little things to symbolize the change in my life. I'll always be their mom, but my online handle has been focused around that fact for too many years. It may be time to change my e-mail address. And I don't need to worry too much. After all, my boy left me a note that he has outgrown all but two pairs of pants and my youngest is struggling through the insanity that is junior high.

Depression

I am generally a happy person. Granted, not one of those in-your-face, super excited about everything people... just content and happy. I can say that I know this is true regardless of the situations I am in because I know what the alternative feels like.

Depression. I've heard many different definitions for it from "sinful self-focus" to a deep sadness. Some definitions that resonate with me are: a lack of hope, a dark vacuum, and an emotional emptiness that surrounds the heart in dark clouds. Naturally people feel differently about this issue. I have been lectured by religious fanatics about how the devil has me infested with demons that I am allowing to run amok and thus, this unpleasant side effect. Some feel a person should be pushed to go outside immediately, pushed to participate in activities until they 'snap out of it'. I will point out that in both of the above examples the people making these assertions are blaming the victim to some degree; causing shame.

If I had the answers about depression I would not be writing this little post. But depressed days or phases like to creep up on me, generally there is no warning and no trigger that sets them off now. They just are. Yesterday was one of those days. To try and describe to a person who does not know depression personally the depth of the darkness and how alone I feel on those days is virtually impossible. I pasted on a smile to the best of my ability and did what I could for the kids (thankfully they are all pretty self-sufficient now!) but even they noticed. I felt guilty that their day was a little darker.

Scientifically I know that it is all about chemicals in my brain. So, if I was to exercise more then depression would be less likely. If I ate healthier well, even better! And goodness knows if I dropped the excess pounds I would be a health machine (and likely an in-your-face, super excited about everything person).  It sounds a lot easier than it is. So the people who recommend that to others but don't do it for themselves.....

Thankfully this time it seems to be short lived. I'm pulling myself out. I've found I do better when I am able to do it in my own time, in my own way.

A point for this post? There is none. Just sharing. 

Masks

Wearing a mask to hide our true selves in a common concept and one that I suspect we all struggle with to some degree. I have yet to meet anyone who genuinely felt fully accepted for who they are. I've met many who seemed to be and even deluded themselves into believing it- but there was always at least one person who they feared judgement from. And there is my opening paragraph: it sounds really informative but the truth is that it's all there to make me feel better about my own masks, my own choices to keep parts of me hidden. 

The idea that there is anyone who can accept every aspect of me is a novel one. It is not something I really believe which is why even the people who know me best do not know everything. I still hide.  In my wildest dreams I think of casting it all off: speaking how I wished, believing what I want, letting people see my faults and trusting they will accept me anyway. 

Hello reality! People will not accept others who do not fit into their idea of normal. Where I can think of people who would accept and appreciate my sense of humor, those same people would be put off by a major physical flaw. Others may accept me unconditionally physically but reject my spiritual beliefs. Etc. etc. etc.

And behind every reason for the many masks I wear is one common denominator: Fear. Humans are made to be social creatures. And despite my social phobia and agoraphobia and GAD- all of which one would expect would leave me wishing for no social contact or acceptance at all; I need it. I need to feel accepted and I am too weak right now to be okay with rejection. That is a sad realization to make. But it's where I'm at. And sure, it is possible for people to prove to me that they accept me fully- but who am I to think they should? Why should anyone have to prove anything to me? The reality is this is not their flaw to have to work on. It's mine. I have to own it. 

Now I could say hooray! I have discovered a flaw in myself and now that I recognize it, I can address it. But alas, where should it be in my list of priorities? Let's face it, I have a gazillion things I need to fix about myself. And in the shit storm of seeing all those flaws, the best I am hoping for at this point is that I will keep it in mind and as I am working on my other flaws; as I am moving forward in meeting this new version of myself that has emerged from the fires of divorce and abuse, I will see small choices I can make that will move me a bit closer to being stronger emotionally.

I was going to end this post at that last paragraph but I have a thought. Where do we draw the line between socially acceptable and being ourselves? Take hermits for example. They choose to live outside of the societal norm but they are being themselves. Or the woman who creates things for art fairs etc. and lives in a bus. She is happy and true to her nature- but unaccepted by most in the community for living outside of that societal norm. We live in a judgmental society. We are judged by our looks, our beliefs, our perceived intelligence, the number of friends we have, our weight, whether or not we attend church and which one we do, how we care for ourselves when we are ill, whether or not we have pets and which sort- I suspect you can see where I am going here. Society is a long way from being open and accepting to all.

More Fairy Tale Wishes

I admit it- I used to believe in fairy tales. Granted, because of my tomboyish nature I was more inclined to daydream of a scarred pirate rather than a handsome prince but the basis remains the same. Someone swoops in when I need him most and rescues me from a horrible situation. I am then brought to a new, happy life where we proceed to spend the rest of our days adoring each other.

In such a tale there is no room for infidelity and abuse. There is no room for reality either.

I know I have to have realistic expectations for my future. I tend to dream big. And that is a good thing but it also means disappointment is bound to follow. Having been in so many unhealthy relationships I also have to figure out what it is realistic to hope for. None of us should ever settle for a negative situation- but if we set our expectations too high then we are guaranteed to never find Mr. (or Mrs!) right.

I really did have many horrible moments in my marriage and the aftermath; many of those moments the feelings of betrayal were crippling. Oddly, I realized that the feelings of betrayal were not always aimed at my ex. I didn't know why as nothing else makes sense. I was not until about a year after the divorce was finalized when I was sitting with a counselor and finally honestly exploring these thoughts that I got my answer. The counselor leaned across, took my hand and smiled; she said it sounds like I keep hoping for someone to defend me, to stand up for me. And she was right. I spent years trying to make everyone around me happy, putting myself last and even hurting myself in the process. I left everything and fought like a wild bear in court for my daughter. I stood up to my ex and his family, even when friends and family did not stand with me. And in the deepest part of me, I wished for someone to stand with me.

Where is my defender? My knight in shining armor? Or better yet, my scarred pirate?

Curse my fairy tale wishes. No matter how tired I get of fighting for myself, for my kids; there is no scarred pirate waiting to protect me. My family and friends subscribe to the belief that forgiving is where it's at and immediately forgave the monster who is my ex. So, I get to be my own hero. My own scarred pirate.

Happy?

I noticed something today:

I'm far from perfect in every way and avoid cameras and often people because of my own insecurities and I have a lot of hurts and grudges and issues I'm dealing with and I have teenagers and kids with health issues and schoolwork and deadlines constantly looming and judgmental people all around and not very many friends I really count on and the ones that I do are mostly online so I often wonder how pathetic and odd that makes me and I don't keep my house clean or smile at very many people and I don't volunteer at the school and I even duck out of parent-teacher conferences (unless I know there's an issue) and money is so tight and I have no love life whatsoever.

But...

I am still happy.

Black Bean and Tomato Quinoa Salad

I found a recipe online but they used so many unhealthy ingredients that it seemed to nullify the wonderfully healthy quinoa. So I tweaked the ingredients and amounts and have come up with a recipe that even my teens adore. Warning: I now find myself craving it sometimes!

Black Bean and Tomato Quinoa Salad

2 t. grated lime zest
2 T. Fresh lime juice
2 T. olive oil
1 t. agave nectar OR a itty bitty pinch of stevia
1 C. quinoa
1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
2 tomatoes, diced
4 green onion stalks, chopped
1/2 C. fresh cilantro

Wash the quinoa, drain, then put in cooking pot and toast until it has a nice, nutty scent. Add two cups of water and cook until water is dissolved.

While quinoa is cooking, mix all other ingredients together. Add quinoa and then salt and pepper to taste.