Tag Archives: emotions

Healing: Raw & Ugly

Healing is raw and ugly…

August 12, 2018

Well, here I am. Have gotten through his filing, claiming that I was cruel and “intentionally caused him to lose his job”, which is laughable. As is his request for spousal support.

Now, I’m angry. I’m angry that next week, I will be sending my oldest to Kindergarten, alone. I’m angry that last week I celebrated him losing his first tooth, alone. I’m angry that God let this happen. Why?! What did I do?! I stuck by him and I prayed and I trusted that God would bring us through this, and now here I am. I am alone. I am overwhelmed with bills and with things that need to be taken care of. I feel abandoned, by God, by my husband, by my church. I feel utterly alone and forgotten and uncared for and tired.

And now, I am alone. I am so lonely and so f**cking exhausted and confused and sad and I know I shouldn’t wallow in this and I know I should be grateful for the many, many blessings I do have – I know there are momma’s out there who would give anything to send their child off to Kindergarten. I know that. But this is not how I pictured things. I imagined and planned on preparing our child for school together, to bear the load of all the new and exciting things together, to celebrate the missing teeth and the new things learned together. I imagined that we’d be a team in this. I don’t feel adequate to do it all myself. My kids deserve better. They did nothing to deserve this. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I truly, truly believed that he and I would be together forever. That we’d have hard times, tough times, but we’d get through them. I never imagined this. Not for a second. Sometimes I torture myself and go through our old pictures together, our old memories. We looked so happy. That wasn’t fake, there’s no way. I know it wasn’t on my end, and I don’t think it was on his. We loved each other. I know we did. We had so many good, happy times. I don’t know what the hell happened. I don’t know what I did wrong or what I could have done better.”

I started writing things (in honesty … typing them – my handwriting is barely legible) a couple of months after we separated. It was a violent separation , literally and figuratively. I had to get the thoughts out, because I didn’t know what else to do, and I wanted to remember the feelings. I had hope that I’d be able to rise out of the suck and one day, look back and say “Look how far I’ve come”! I didn’t have any intention of letting other people read what I typed. BUT… I’ve been reading Brene Brown lately, and learning more about vulnerability. If what I was feeling – the rawness of it, can help someone else feel less alone, sharing is worth it.

At the time of writing my thoughts above, I was just starting to come to the realization that my commitment to our marriage was not reciprocated in any way. My ex-husband and I never worked the same shift or had the same days off in our ten years of marriage. I tried to find the positive in that – things were still new and fresh, seeing him was always exciting. However, it was dawning on me that he was able to maintain the front of being a doting husband for those few hours we had together, and that’s all it was to him. To me, those hours were precious; to him, an act to get through. (And, scene!)

If you read my last post, you know that there was a domestic violence incident and a whole lot of ugliness I subsequently discovered. The divorce was ugly. His attorney was one who would make scathing, disgusting accusations; probably to try and elicit some kind of reaction out of me (and oh, that temptation was REAL). My wounds were still fresh, and her words, baseless accusations, and complete unprofessionalism compounded the emotions and feelings, making a bad situation unimaginably difficult.

I am glad that I wrote my feelings as I was sitting in the suck, trying to navigate those dark moments. I remember how pervasive those feelings and emotions were, how deep the anger and sadness was. The level of betrayal is one that I still cannot find adequate wording for. I can sit here today and reflect on gratitude and the incredible blessings throughout the darkness, but when you’re in it… the good stuff isn’t so obvious.

Today, the darkness is a little lighter. As time goes on and you sit, experience the pain, and allow yourself to move through it, its sharpness lessens. I felt like I was stuck for a long time – I felt like I should be moving must faster, not wallowing in a never-ending pit. My faith and counseling helped me move forward, but the main thing is the willingness to work through it – not just cover it up with new romantic relationships, substances, or mindless activity. I and my kids deserve better. I have to understand how this happened, how I let it get so far, and my blind spots – this cannot happen again.

These days, I still struggle. But it’s not minute to minute so much anymore, and there are far more good days than bad. If you can relate to any of the words in the first few paragraphs, you are not alone. It is so, so hard and it can be incredibly unfair. But… you’ve done hard things before, and you will get through this difficulty. Don’t let what has happened to you define you – let it shape you into the resilient warrior that you are.

-Elaine

Pass The Tissues, Please!

Pass the tissues, please!

Growing up I was quick to cry. As an adult frustration and anger can mean waterworks.

I’m not sure who invented waterproof mascara but they’re my hero.

It’s embarrassing how much and what makes me cry. Commercials. Certain stories on the news. Movies. TV.

Pass the tissues.

Honestly,I usually just have tissues stashed in a pocket. But I’m here to say… there is something to be said for a good cry.Sometimes you need it. I know it sounds odd I’m encouraging this. Hear me out. There is something about giving into that emotion, getting it out and moving on.It can be a reset button. We all need a rest sometimes.

There is no shame in that. Owning your feelings is hard. Admitting you hurt or are sad can feel almost impossible. So to suggest a good cry, seems outlandish.

I also tend to shut down when I’m hurting. I have a hard time letting people know I’m hurt. Silliness I know…

Quote for you:

Just because you have days where you feel really overwhelmed. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad Mom. It’s ok to cry & it’s ok to need a break. You’re doing an amazing job.

You really are.

First we grew a person. Some of you a couple.

Some of you work, go to school, are full time Moms.

Your lives are hectic! It’s not a cakewalk.

There are bumps and mountains.

It is ok to have to take a moment a hit that reset button.

I got some tissues in my pocket for you Mommas.

<3

Caprise

Empathy-Wearing Your Heart On Your Sleeve?

The word empathy is a noun. It means the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

Depending on who you talk to it can also be viewed as a sign of weakness. Empathy. Being in touch with your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve.

I can’t tell you how many ex’s have told me I’m too sensitive.

I have been told by those closest to me it is the thing the love and hate the most about me. They know it means I keep my heart open when I shouldn’t. I cry when I am mad. I read into things. I can be jealous. But if I love you. I love you with all my soul. I will take care of you. Gestures no matter how small mean everything and I will do what I can in my guarded way to make sure you know.

I know guarded and empathetic seem like they don’t go but it’s the empathy that makes me guarded. Until it doesn’t.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about my proud Mommy moment.

Watching my beautiful daughter turn into a nurturer. Be aware of others around her and want to take care of them. Most recently with her cousins who are visiting from the East coast. She sees them if she is lucky once a year. Since she is an only child she refers to them as her cousin/siblings. She is in middle school so we have definitely started with some preteen eye rolls and occasional comment.

Overall though she shows me somewhere along the way she got the importance of being kind and caring. Don’t get me wrong she still stands her ground.

Do you know how great it is to be in a conference with four teachers and have them tell me how kind she is?Get that in an email from her guidance counselor.

In how she describes her friends. She makes sure to highlight details. Explain. Tell you why it’s ok. She listens.

Every night she tells me she loves me. She does the same when she leaves for school in the morning. She recognizes some of her friends are different but makes sure to impress upon us why it’s important it’s not a big deal. Her eyes are wide open and so is her beautiful heart.

In a world where people can be so incredibly cruel it makes me so proud my girl is making her own path and leading with a strong heart.

I’m a proud Mama. Who is also sending all of you lots of love from heart on my sleeve.

~~Caprise

Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

Come On In The Guest House

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

A few weeks ago, my wonderful counselor read this poem to me to start a session and it has stayed with me since that night. I am not sure why, but it spoke to my soul and tethered itself to me. I am not sure why, but it spoke to my demons and made them cower in fear. I am not sure why, but it spoke to that inner child still full of pain and gave her comfort. I am not sure why, but it spoke to my warrior and it made her feel stronger. I am not sure why, but I know that it is important.

My guest house is a little stone cottage in the woods, complete with a thatch roof and a dutch door. It is surrounded by woods, gardens full of beautiful flowers, and sits on the edge of a small, tranquil lake.  It is a mix of all the fairy tale homes I have read about and my family camp on Lake Superior. It is old, but protects you with solid walls. It is small, but envelopes you in love and warmth. It is worn, but invites you in with safety and comfort. It has been battered by storms, but despite the damage is still a sight to see.

The guests as of late, have not been ones to enjoy, but ones to tolerate. The guests as of late, have not been ones to embrace, but ones to observe. The guests as of late, have not been welcome, but ones that needed shelter. The guests as of late, have not been friendly, but have caused me pain. The guests as of late, have not been calm, but have caused chaos within. The guests as of late, have not been my warrior, but instead have been my demons.

No matter who shows up each and every day, my guest house is open. No matter who shows up each and every day, I will welcome them with a smile. No matter who shows up each and every day, I will try to learn from my guest. No matter who shows up each and every day, I will let the emotions of their visit wash over me. No matter who shows up each and every day, I will try to keep my balance. No matter who shows up each and every day, I will look forward to my next guest.

My guest house is a place of learning.

My guest house is a place of growing.

My guest house is a safe place to feel pain.

My guest house is a place of joy.

My guest house is a place of solitude. 

My guest house is a place of gathering.

My guest house is chaos.

My guest house is my calm.

My guest house is love.

My guest house is me in all its imperfections.

~ Kellie

Working each day to be the warrior and leader I know is within me. You can follow me at https://wordpress.com/view/leaderofthepacks.blog

Anger Creates Chaos

Dale Carnegie teaches that the only way to get the best of an argument is to avoid it.  There is something to be said for that, how many of your own personal arguments ever ended with the desired result?  Most arguments, which are fueled by anger, consist of heated emotion and reactionary feelings. When those things are present, nothing good is happening.  Like I always say respond, don’t react!

When we are angry, we are divided from our centered/higher self, which only leads to chaos and destruction of some sort. Angry people cannot hear anything real, and they certainly can’t hear their inner voice or intuition.  Being swallowed by anger cuts us off from solutions and allows the dark side to run us with negative thoughts…thoughts such as “he is such a jerk”, “I can’t stand her, she is always wrong”, “he is selfish and hateful,” etc.

Allowing thoughts like this even for a moment gives power to the dark nature of things. Allowing thoughts like this to take root fuels more angry feelings.

Anger and angry feelings are destructive to the natural order of things, which creates chaos.  Chaos breeds fear and fear creates more anger, and so goes the vicious cycle.

Understanding anger for what it is can help us to become more tolerant.  There are times when we get upset because things don’t work the way we want them to and adjustments must be made…that is healthy.  What is destructive is upset that we allow to turn into pure rage and wholly negative thoughts.  When we permit ourselves to fall unchecked into negativity is when we begin to generate something destructive.

We must be vigilant in turning our upsets into constructive opportunities for change and communication.  Today, when you are feeling angry, look and see how you can change your perspective or communicate your upset constructively to create something positive.  Don’t allow yourself to be overtaken with angry and negative thoughts…be the better person, be the peacemaker.

 

-XO, Noelle

Is Being Strong Really A Strength?

Being strong…

Two weeks after I graduated from high school, my dad had a heart attack. I remember the day vividly – I remember my mom waking me up and asking me to sit with my dad while she got ready, I remember going to the hospital and sitting in the waiting room, I remember leaving to go home to get a few things and going in to see my dad, I remember that being one of the only times I can recall that he said “I love you” to me, I remember sitting in a room after his surgery with all of our friends and feeling like I was having an out of body experience, I remember the doctor telling us that he had passed away and I remember sitting outside the hospital with a couple of my friends talking about how my dad would never see me graduate from college, get married or meet my kids.

My dad was a pretty healthy guy – he had just played in a tennis tournament the weekend before, so as you can imagine, we were shocked and devastated. My mom was completely torn up and I remember as family friends would come to visit, they would tell me that I needed to be strong for my mom. Over and over at the funeral, friends gave hugs and condolences and again, told me to be strong for my mom. Didn’t they know I was only 17? I wasn’t even an adult yet. Who was going to be strong for me?

Maybe that’s where it all started…

Lately, I have been thinking about what it means to be strong. Growing up and even as an adult, I felt like it meant not showing your emotions, that even when things are really hard, you stuff your feelings down and just keeping going on like it’s a normal day. I’ve done that for years. I may get upset and cry, but most likely it’s at home by myself or alone while I’m driving in the car, but when you see me at work or at the grocery store or at my kids’ school, you see what you would expect to see – a seemingly happy, friendly person.

When problems were happening in my marriage, most people had no idea. I was strong on the outside, even if I was falling apart on the inside. There were a couple times where I slipped up and started crying at work, but I quickly pulled myself together and kept moving ahead the best that I could. Even now, three years later, I still have my days. Days when I would like to just curl into a ball and stay under the covers for a day or two and cry the tears that I’ve been holding in for months. But, I don’t have the luxury of doing that; I have two girls who need me – they need me to drive them places and make them food and help with homework and comfort them when they have a problem. Sometimes, all I want is to be the one with the problem and have someone comfort me and tell me that everything is going to be ok.

My friend and I talk about this topic a lot. We are both similar – we don’t wear our emotions on our sleeves, we listen to other people’s issues and we find ways to fix them, we don’t like to dwell in negativity. We are considered strong by others, but that also means that people don’t think we ever have a problem or have a bad day and that’s just not true. The truth is, we are both sensitive and take things to heart; we may just not talk about it openly. Thank goodness we have each other; she’s the one I call when I need to talk about a bad day and she’s the one that I can cry to when I’m frustrated or down.

The more that I think about it …. I don’t know that being strong is a strength, it’s more like a mask of your true feelings. Over the last few years, I’ve learned that it’s ok to be vulnerable with the right people and that being vulnerable is more courageous than being strong and holding your feelings in.

That’s part of the reason I started this blog; much of it is for me and to get my feelings out, but it’s also to hopefully help someone else who might be feeling the same way. I hope they can understand that their feelings are valid and it’s ok to talk about them instead of stuffing them deep down inside and that they’re being extremely brave and courageous by doing so.

~Laxmi~

You can follow Laxmi at her blog, https://onedesigirlsjourney.wordpress.com/.