Thank you

Thank you to the men along the way that have helped me feel safe and secure. To the ones who never wavered, tested their boundaries and have held space for me to be myself and grow.

After loosing my dad this year and re-connecting with family (my half sisters and brother); I’ve come to realize I am not alone in my own fucked up-ness because of him. More recently, I’ve been more present for what I’ve missed out on. I’ve been watching this TV show with my roommate about a family that lost their dad in high-school, just before graduation. It is called “This is Us”— All the feels. Anyway, the dad in that show comes across as amazing. Needless to say, I cried a lot watching it and was pretty shocked by my own loss and what I never had.

I had been writing this post in a Starbucks on paper, while writing I observed a man and a younger gal talking to each other for a bit. After she had left, he had explained that she was like his daughter to him. He talked about his own daughter and had said how he bragged about her. It sunk in that my own dad would have never bragged about me. I let him know in the moment that “She was very lucky to have him brag about her”.

After having this conversation with him, it brought up all of the men in my life who were actually positive role models for me growing up. At the time because of my own PTSD with older men, I was terrified of them. Now I look back in admiration, appreciation and gratefulness. Slow and steady, I’ve been able to overcome my PTSD through multiple years in therapy.

The men I’m thinking about are my grandpa, Mike, John, and more recently Scott.

I have pictures of myself when I was much younger, like 3 years old, laying on my grandpas chest. He was the only man in my life at the time that never wavered, and he loved me unconditionally. I never doubted him. He was consistent and kind.

John and Mike were church leaders. They were kind, compassionate and amazing men. They listened with open hearts, they were consistent, and strong. They sat through all of my growth, my struggles and grief. They had amazing boundaries and I felt as safe as any other teenage girl would have felt with PTSD in the moment. As I look back on that time, I recognize their support and the impact they had on me when I was younger. It was impressionable and important in my personal growth and journey.

I am not going to write about Scott, but I did tell him to his face my gratefulness for his presence in my life.

I do raise my glass to these men, and many more who have impacted my life in positive ways. Ones who have allowed me to feel safe, who have not wavered outside of their boundaries and who have been instrumental to my growth in my self and overcoming my PTSD with men. You are truly amazing humans on this planet.

I cannot thank you enough.

Out again

I didn’t get married.
I should have known better with someone so unsure in their own mind about things.

This past summer has gone by so quickly and it is fall now. The leaves have dropped, and I’m drinking coffee out of a fancy cup again at Starbucks.

I moved in with my friend and her kids.

It’s heartbreaking and lovely at the same time.

I want so badly to have my own family, and yet I seek comfort in being around others with theirs.

The bonus part of all of this: My options are endless. I could go anywhere, and be anyone I want. That’s a pretty empowering feeling.

The hunt is on.

My power candle.

I don’t even know where I got this idea, but it’s super cheesy so bear with me. I have a power candle for when I work out. I was at Michaels spending money like a good consumer, well for my wedding. I was buying craft supplies. Anyway I came across this candle and I bought it. I also found this notebook that tracked work outs. Both were on sale, and the moment I got home I put on my work out clothes and decided to light this candle and let it be my power candle. I imagined only positive things coming out of it, and turned all of my negative self talking into positive thoughts. I kept repeating over and over.. I’ve got this, keep going, only one more time, I’ve got this. And I felt amazing.

I also made a new painting that said “I’ve got this”. And I can’t help but smile when I look at it. I’ve worked out a few times last week, like 2-3 times, and so far twice this week. It’s not a lot, but it’s a hell of a lot more thanI had been doing before!

Overcoming the Bully

Okay, first of all.. this is not something that has been happening over night. It’s years and years of therapy and changing the way I think about things.

Easier said than done and I’m not 100% healed, but I’m so much better than I was 3 years ago, even months ago, or moments ago.

Remember those I AM paintings I did? Well they started to work.

Side bar: In graduate school I took a tutor class which helped me with my papers and also gave me credit at the same time. But I learned something there that has stuck with me through out the years and has changed my thinking patterns in a way I could never have expected. You wouldn’t know this about me but I’m afraid of writing. I’m laughing as I say that because I have this blog with over 60 posts. But writing at the time was one of the most vulnerable places for me to be, and I was terrified of posting my papers etc. Anyway this writing tutor taught some psychology with her class and she taught about neuro transmitters and pathways. If we live one way, it’s hard for our minds to do something new unless we practice something new consistently. As we move forward in that practice, it creates new neuro pathways and those new ways of doing or thinking becomes easier.

Those paintings I started painting, have been really powerful and pivotal in this mind changing game. When I repeat I am enough, enough times… I’ve started to believe it. I even wrote it on a sticky note at my desk.

My next post will be about my most recent achievement with this and how I’ve been able to overcome the bully as I’ve been consistently working out!

After all this time.

I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

I’ve talked about these voices (I mean self critic, I’m not hearing voices). Let’s just be clear, it’s my inner voice that I’m talking about. But this self critic who has been holding me back, the one I’ve deemed my dad’s voice, is really myself. And I know that, but I’ve trained myself into being the biggest and worst bully of them all. All of those people who harassed me and made me believe I wasn’t good enough, has really trained me to be my biggest bully. I am my biggest bully. WTF.

Working out and self bullying.

I think I’ve posted before that I’m a cereal gym member and never really have been a goer. This has always been for reasons that seem really terrible at the time, but now feel super petty. It’s also the excuses I’ve made up in my brain about the reasons why I shouldn’t go to the gym.

I would join gyms because I thought it was the right thing to do. I would join them and be pretty good about it for a month or two and then something stops me from going.

One time I was working out at the gym a lot, I had a trainer and everything that I had gotten as a gift from my mom. What “ruined it” for me that time was this desk attendant. Every time I would come in, he would ask if I was meeting me with my trainer. I about lost it and eventually stopped going, because I avoided having that conversation with him. I lost motivation, and also, felt judged in my brain which then spiraled into a nasty fest of self doubt, confidence and self hate. You know the words: You will never be able to… or you are not good enough… etc

Anyway, what ends up happening, is me judging myself and comparing myself to other people at the gym. I’d get so wrapped up in what I wasn’t and what I couldn’t do, that working out was more stressful to me because of how much I would make up in my head about it and what the consequences would be. So frankly I would just give up. Now that I think about it, going to the gym under this mind set was super self harmy to my mental health. I was being my own self bully. Wow.

I mean, most of these are just excuses and reasons for me to not do it. Which seemed easier than actually doing it.

Next post is about what steps I’ve been taking to overcome this mentality.

Why I said yes after all that.

Needless to say I should have moved out of Jacob’s earlier, but I didn’t. It was a lot, and I checked out nearly for the whole year. It was all pretty traumatic, and deep. I was in a place of unknown. I was literally stunned and didn’t know how to deal or what to do. My breaking point hit me when deciding to move out, was waking up and realizing that my mental health, food, and self care was circling the drain. I should have left earlier. (Should have), but I didn’t and I can’t put myself down for not.

I said yes, because he finally got his head out of his ass and stopped over thinking things. He told me that he owe’d me, getting married that is. When we broke that down, he meant that I had been with him through a lot, and I was still there for him. He doesn’t have the knack for saying things kindly. He told me, if he were going to get married to anyone it would be me. He told me he didn’t want to go through the whole meeting someone and falling in love with someone again thing.

I said yes because we make a good match. He is my best friend, and we accept each other for who we are and don’t try to change one another. We have a lot of fun together, and love each other unconditionally. These are the reasons why I didn’t leave, because despite the huge difference at the time these other things existed.

—Also at the end of the day, when all things were said and done… he didn’t want to loose me. How can you say no to that, plus all of the other things.

I do have to say… I kind of wished the space between him and I getting back together were longer. I really wanted some time to myself to breathe and work through some things on my own. I could have set that boundary, but moving back in seemed like the right thing to do, with all of the other things going on.

Am I scared? of course. I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with one person. I will be sharing some of the most intimate moments of my life with them. We will be sharing finances, a house, parenting, and more with each other. All new to the both of us and uncomfortable. Also… Joyful, because we have picked each other.

 

 

 

 

I disabled Facebook.

You won’t find me there, so yah. It became really easy when I realized that I could keep Facebook messenger, and get rid of the other part.

I did it in January, because of all of the things that were happening in my life.

It became super overwhelming and I became very addicted to “scrolling” through Facebook and checking out in the process.

I also was tired of reading every-ones bullshit. Because people only really post things to create an allusion that their life is something… Something that it is or isn’t. I was getting caught up in this world of drama, that I didn’t want to be apart of anymore.

I also got caught up in some self worth by how many likes I got, who was saying what and how people were reacting to me. I know that posting things and getting involved with FB is a choice, and I just didn’t want to make it a choice I could access for a while.—So i could actually focus on myself, and what my needs were, versus what others want to see or want me to be.

Some positives that have come out of it: Perhaps my relationships are improving. A friend of mine invited me to her birthday in person because she realized I didn’t have Facebook and wasn’t apart of her event thing on FB. So that’s cool—

I think It will swoop back in my life in a few months. Facebook is a great way to get a hold of everyone during wedding times.

Recent Lessons

In my last post I talked about the voices in my brain about self worth being the voice of my father. Thinking about it in that perspective has been a game changer.

My partner and I were arguing about something and I was able to talk myself out of self talk from this new perspective. I was brushing my teeth, walked away and was spiraling fast into some negative talk that was bad. —I don’t even remember what I had said to myself, it really doesn’t matter. Mid brushing, I stopped and said Whhhattt. Like what just happened there, and realized that it was my dad’s voice that was plaguing me. It wasn’t me, it wasn’t my voice. It was his. Okay, not his directly, but it became clear that it was another entity other than myself. —Mind you I thought about this the day before I found out he was back in the hospital.

————-As a disclaimer, I have felt this a lot in the past. I have felt that this other piece of me was a different person. Now that I’ve identified that it was “his voice” and not mine, it seems more clear than ever. It was easy to change the perspective of it not really being me.————-

Sunday my partner and I were digging out our fire-pit. We were trying to decide on how we would do something, and we both had ideas about how to do it. In the process I also was unable to help in the way that I wanted to. I got really mad and snotty with him and then just ended up keeping my mouth shut. Suddenly I got really tense and mad about the situation. I started spiraling in my brain… and what I started to do was separate myself from those thoughts and feelings to why I felt them. I realized that I felt those things because I felt criticized and un-empowered to help. With criticism, comes the self doubt of I’m not doing a good enough job.

Separating my thoughts from his thoughts and words… really this other being that I’ve been fighting for so long has helped me move forward from a lot of bullshit. I’m looking forward to growing  more from this new perspective and seeing what happens.