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Posts Tagged ‘life’

I decided to start writing again so that I can write about my healing, but I’m not really sure that I want to expose myself that much, so now I’m undecided. However, I do think that my story might be able to help someone out there and for this reason, I write. 

I was in a horribly abusive marriage. I got out quick, but the aftermath still continues to haunt me 12 years later. I thought I was pretty much healed and am proud of how I managed to pick up the pieces and come out shining, but then, it happened. I fell in love. Through love, I’ve discovered ghosts and demons that I didn’t realize still needed to be dealt with. The memories, the pain, none of that is new. I remember it. I still flashback to certain instances and my body has it’s reactions to it – I tense up. I feel the blood rushing. I become short of breath. I want to cry. I want to scream. I try to breathe deeply and remind myself that what I’m feeling is in the past. I’m safe now. I don’t have to be afraid. I’m not living that moment or reliving it. I can let it go. 

I had a fight with my boyfriend the other day. As he sat there looking at me and wondering what the hell was going on, I began to realize that what I was feeling was completely irrational and that’s where I’m at today. Long story short, without saying anything, he headed off in a direction assuming that I was right behind him. Well I’ll be damned if I’m just going to blindly follow a man, and so I stayed where I was at and continued to watch him go. Our fight was something to the effect of “I’m not going to follow you just because I’m the woman and you’re the man!!! My days of doing whatever a man tells me to do are over!!!” There was yelling. Lots of it. Probably cussing, too, because I cuss a lot when I’m mad. He was tired, so he fought back. Normally he doesn’t which makes me mad. Do you see how this is unfolding?  If he fights back, we have a nice fight. If he doesn’t fight, we have a fight because I’m pissed that he’s indifferent. 

I suppose the good thing is that even while I’m yelling and being irrational, I can still hear him and process what he’s saying and I processed it, had what I like to call an “Oh Shit! Moment” and realized that I was completely off base. Of course, I didn’t stop being pissed or yelling, but I knew I was wrong. Nice. 

It took me a good 24 hours to process all that had transpired. My poor man works on the basis that once it’s over, it’s over. Not me. I process. Then, I process some more and even more until I understand. I’ve tried the letting go, but that doesn’t work and now I’m realizing why. If I want to fix the broken me, letting go isn’t going to fix it. I must analyze it. So, this was my revolution. When I fight, I go into fight or flight mode. For the most part, my “flight mode” is gone these days and it becomes sheer fight mode. 

I told my counselor about this revolution and she jumped all over it. “Yes! You go into fuck you! Fuck this! Fuck everyone and everything!” Oh yes, she nailed that. I am woman. I don’t need you or anyone, I can do it all on my own. Get out of my way.  

So my job, as she so eloquently put it, is to teach the Warrior Me that she is no longer needed. I’m so afraid to let her go. 

This post is similar to the one that I posted last night. I apologize for that and will try not to duplicate in the future. However, I felt the background of the Warrior was important to share. If you have a Warrior in you, I hope she fights long and hard until you are safe, and then I hope she steps aside and lets the real you live a safe, peaceful life. 

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Trust is a funny thing. I don’t know about other countries, but here in America where divorce rates are high and break up rates are even higher, many people will openly state that they have “trust issues”. Simply stated, they find it hard to trust people. Typically when one states that they have trust issues, they are referring to their lack of trust in the opposite sex. However, this isn’t always the case. Some people have over all trust issues in that it is hard for them to trust anyone.

I certainly fall into this last category. Through my life circumstances, I find it difficult to trust anyone. Ironically, I mentioned my lack of trust in my former article, Moving On. I have had some great things happen lately by the goodness of others and it was really starting to help me re-establish my trust in human kind. Then, just a few days later, the trust is broken once again. Among other things, I caught a close friend in a pretty substantial lie. She hasn’t spoken to me since I confronted her about it which simply makes me shake my head that much more.

I have been contemplating as to why it is that we lie to each other and I can not come up with an answer that justifies the lie. In the above mentioned circumstance, I know that my friend lied to me in order to not hurt my feelings. Truthfully, my feelings would not have been hurt if she had come out and told me the truth. I am puzzled as to why she felt that she needed to lie instead of just be honest. Is this an American culture or a human trait?  Why do we feel the need to lie to each other instead of just being honest and telling it like it is? It is possible to tell the truth using tact, isn’t it?

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The over-sized black dog is curled up in the corner, gently snoring on her fluffy, white bed while a black calico cat rests on the tattered quilt at the feet of the woman of the house. The gentle squeak of a computer chair is heard from the living room, the tap, tap of the ever busy keyboard, the hum of a computer monitor, and the soft singing of a young woman occupy the air. Another cat lets out its meek meow as it beckons for attention, hoping to find either its mother or the young woman at the computer. The turtle tank gurgles from a distant bedroom, an airplane rumbles by, and another dog barks in the distance.

These are the sounds of the night. Occasionally the house will creak or even pop causing momentary tension amongst the ladies, but for the most part, the night is serene. The blackness outside is kept at bay by the iridescent lights from within. Soon, it will change.

The young lady will grow weary and turn off the computer. Enervation will overcome the older woman. Lights will turn to darkness with a mere flip of a switch. As slumber overtakes the house guests, the noises will obliterate. It is at this time that the cats will remember that they are nocturnal creatures and with an abrupt burst through the house, they will leap onto the fireplace to begin their aeronautics. Mid-flight, an ornament will be procured so that fowl play may begin.

The felines run through the house, batting the ornament to and fro. This is easily accomplished on the wooden floors, as is sliding into walls and each other. With a moan, the woman wakes up and listens. She knows what awaits the night, but is optimistic that merely being awake will settle the cats. Of course, this is only false hope and she will reluctantly drag herself out of bed, a hunter on the prowl. The cats, suddenly feigning innocence, flop onto the floor in a humble position hoping the woman will pet them and head back to bed. She does stoop down to give each cat a rub and a gentle chide, but her mission is not diverted. She will find that ornament.

To the woman’s dismay, the small gray cat has placed herself upon the ornament in every attempt to hide her treasure. With a slight laugh, the woman reaches out and takes the ornament. She glances at the tree, the naked bottom half, stripped of its ornaments and Christmas joy, and knows placing the ornament back on the tree is senseless. She places it in a box instead. Inside that box are the other ornaments gathered throughout the season, treasures of the felines. With this, she turns off the hall light and heads back to her room, stopping to admire the tree once more. She notices that it is leaning to the right, slightly more than the day before, and slightly more than the day before that. If the tree isn’t straightened soon, it will fall over. Knowing this, the woman walks away with a smirk for these are the memories of the 2009 Christmas season.

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As the new year begins, many of us find ourselves reflecting on the past year. I’m not one to make new year’s resolutions, but I am one to reflect. 2009 was a hard year and I am optimistic that 2010 will be much better. I struggled with depression last year in degrees that I have not dealt with since I left my physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive marriage in 2000. I saw myself as worthless and wondered why, instead of being the “miracle” that survived my health, I didn’t just die. I felt that my children didn’t really need me, nor did my job, nor anyone nor anything for that matter. I am not writing in hopes of getting your sympathy, I don’t want it. My life is what it is, the past, the present the future. I strongly believe that all things happen for a reason although we often do not know what that reason is. I write because writing is healing and I am healing.

I could tell you of all of the ups and downs of the past year, the trials, the tribulations, but in the end, it does not matter. What matters is that we survived it. I found myself feeling thankful during this Christmas season. Money is tight, I have hospital bills that I can not pay, collectors calling, most of the gifts that I gave this year were used and did not cost me anything, yet they looked new and my son did not know the difference. I have a home, I have heat, I have a steady job, and I have family and friends that have blessed me. One of these days, I might be able to fully trust those in my life and lean on them as I once did. I wonder why it is that once trust has been broken, it is so hard to re-establish. I am hard pressed to name two people in my life that I fully trust and I find that to be a sad thing. There is no reason for me not to trust others in my life, they have done nothing to cause the lack of trust that I suffer from and I know that, yet I still am unable to trust them. I wait for the day that they will sabotage our friendship and I know this is a pathetic truth. I also know why my trust issues run so deep and where they stem from. Perhaps that is a good thing, but sadly, it makes no difference.

My motto in life has become, “Fake it until you make it.” I’ve told a few people this and they look at me with a puzzled, quizzical smile upon their face. I don’t think they know whether or I am jesting or being genuine. I am genuine. I find that I have “faked” it through most of my life. I’ve put on that mask to disguise the real me. The mask that smiles, is optimistic and generally finds the good in things. The real me is cynical, doubtful, and constantly waiting for the bad to happen. I do love to smile, laugh and joke around, so one of these days I hope that the “fake it me” becomes the real me. I guess she’s in there under all of the baggage.

I did not mean for this post to be a negative one, just a reflective one. If you have made it this far, thanks for “listening”. Here’s to a year of healing!

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Ultimately, isn’t this what we are all looking for? That incredible relationship where we are so in love that we can not imagine our lives without that special someone? I know I am looking for it, but the difference is that I have once felt this in love. Like many, my love ended in a divorce. We were married young – 18 and 19 years old. We had been married for four years and had a baby. Something was going on with him and I can only guess as to what, but the reality is that one day, I came home to discover his things packed and he was standing before me zipping up his coat. This was goodbye to the life that I knew.

That happened fifteen years ago. Given the time, many would assume that I am bitter, but I am not. In fact, he and I are now very good friends. Although we don’t see each other often, we give genuine hugs when we do and inquire about each other and each other’s families. We have a child together and will forever be a part of each other’s lives.

During the past fifteen years, I have focussed on me. I have gone back to school and received my bachelor’s degree, I returned again and received my master’s degree, I have a career, I have purchased my first home, I have made two major moves, and most importantly, I have discovered who I am. I have my own hopes and dreams these days and I am perfectly content in being me. This is a lesson that I wish I could share with all women.

I was raised that women should be at home raising their children and supporting their husbands. Within that belief system, I put my life on hold so that I could take care of my husband and support him in his dreams – all while burying my own. I thought I was nothing without a man. Oh how wrong I was.

I am not a feminist or an advocate for being single, I just know that I am not willing to settle. I want the man that is best for me, or no man at all. Many people search for that special someone that will complete them. I am already a complete person. I am looking for that special man that will compliment me, and I will compliment him. I hope to find him one of these days, but if not, I will enjoy this life of mine. Being single does not mean being lonely. I do not understand why so many people think that way. Perhaps they are simply afraid to discover who they really are.

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There are many signs that stamp one’s daughter as a young woman – the first bra, the first date, the first boyfriend, makeup, shaving her legs. The list is endless, but perhaps the most significant is when she is on the pill. This is a hard time for the parents in so many ways.

I have never been a parent that is afraid or hesitant to talk to my children about anything. We have very open dialogues about vast subjects. Sex and drugs have always been two primary topics. I am still old fashioned in my beliefs about sex. I do not believe that teens should be having sex. I don’t feel that they are emotionally ready for this endeavor. Many teens enter sex for one of two reasons: their hormones are raging and they lose control, or they are looking for love and hoping to find it through sex.

Our sex conversations have always been on the lines of, “You know I don’t want you having sex (various reasons given), but inevitably, the choice is yours. You will find yourself in a situation where you will make the choice. Before you get there, it is far more important to me that you are protected so come to me and we will get you on the pill.”  Of course, there’s also the talk of needing to use condoms to prevent STDs, but being on the pill has been a huge one. If and when she becomes sexually active, I want her taken care of. A teen pregnancy will end her dreams.

My daughter has not decided to become sexually active at this point. For this, I am thankful. However, her hormones are simply out of control during her menstrual cycle. During her most recent flare up, she was sure that I absolutely hate her and brought me a large knife while suggesting that since I hate her so much, I should just kill her now. Yikes. These actions have made it apparent that it is time to put her on the pill.

This scares me. She has a boyfriend and I hope that this won’t be the key that tells them that it is ok to have sex. She has shared with me that they have talked about sex and both want to wait, but the day will come when the decision will be made. I guess it is a good thing that she is on the pill, but it is very hard to watch my daughter become such a young woman.

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During my last doctor’s visit, I was asking my doctor about birth control options. During the past year and a half, I developed severed health complications which result in me never being able to take hormones. Birth control pills work because of the hormones that are in them. Basically, besides the condom and the sponge, my only two options are an IUD or tubal ligation. All of that aside, during the visit and the conversation, I became aware that I will have to endure menopause without the aide of any medication. OMG!

Sure, menopause is another ten years out for me, perhaps more given family history, but have you ever been around a woman going through menopause?  Did I mention, OMG!?!?!  LOL   Luckily for my children, they will be gone by then. My son may still be around, but he’ll be 18 so he will at least have the option of moving away from me. Unless I happen to remarry, that will leave just me. Just me to battle my mood swings and hot flashes.

I know I’m too young to worry about it, but really, menopause without hormones? OMG!!

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