Little Tiny

Today was a trip.

I started the Presence Process this morning and the first interesting thing was what it did to my brain- area. I felt an earache on my right side. I suffered chronic earaches as a child. Then I was dyslexic for a minute afterward. I could not get my brain to work for a bit.

Then I went for a walk with Fredd, my little old healer buddy who yells at me.  He told me I am the type of person who runs away from things and keeps trying new things when they get too hard or I don’t see immediate results. Ouch. He was right. He says that I keep running away from my lower three chakras and until I can stick there- nothing in my life will work. Success will always elude me. Double Ouch. I don’t understand why he has to raise his voice when he tells me these things. It is like he is super frustrated with me and he has a southern accent so in a weird way I kind of like it.

My new mantra- with hand over my heart- is- “I will to connect to my lower three chakras; family, little arrowyn, and the adult in me.”

Then I spoke with my Ex-Husband, and he told me he wasn’t going to have his ex-girlfriend Sara pick the colors for his new house this time, because it would be like she had her mark all over his house and he didn’t want Julie, his new girlfriend to feel bad.

Sara picked the colors to all of our homes. And I let him. And I resented him for it.

I could not stop crying after that.

I called Michael Kass, my dear friend and breathwork coach extraordinaire, and he reminded me that there is an alternate story to the “I am worthless, why will he do for her what he could never do for me???” to “It is just his time to grow and change, and it has NOTHING to do with me.”

I like the latter interpretation of events.

And I still can’t stop crying.

I called Marie, one of my best friends who happens to also be a therapist and she said it was all true, AND I was fully validated in having big feelings about it all.

I meditated for 30 minutes on “the pool of sadness” – connected to my three lower chakras and waited for Tim, My Ex, to bring Pony and Addy, his girlfriend’s daughter over. They played at the house before Julie got off of work and met up with us at my house. They asked me if I wanted to join them for pizza and ice-cream. Everything in me screamed “Hell No!!” but the look on my daughter’s face made me say YES. We piled into Tim’s car, Julie in the passenger seat, the two girls in their car seats in the back, and me squeezed uncomfortably between the two. What a trip that was. The date was fine. I still came home and cried some more. I am not even sure it is because I am sad.

I just feel a lot today.

Oh, I forgot about Daniel, my friend I had sex with and who told me he didn’t have time for me.  I stopped following him on instagram because I felt hurt, embarrassed, and ashamed and he called me out on it today, accusing me of not wanting to be his friend. I guess he noticed I had stopped following him and said it hurt his feelings. I didn’t want to be his friend but I cowed and said I would. Be his friend. And start following him again on social media. I am sensing a theme here. Like, I have no balls or voice.

 

I feel mute. Invisible. Small.

Fourth of July 2016

I wanted to be with my daughter. I had no invitations for the fourth. My ex-husband was invited to his ex-girlfriend’s party and he was planning on going with his new girlfriend Julie, her daughter Addy, and our daughter Pony. So I chose to tag along. I chose to. I chose it.

His ex-girlfriend, Sara, is my nemesis, in a lot of ways. The first wife, I called her, in my head. I, feeling constantly, like the second. A role I did not choose. It chose me. At least, that was what I told myself when feeling like a victim. She has a “bigger than life” personality and needs A LOT of attention. I tried to be her friend for the five years that he and I were together, but it never worked. I found her effusiveness to be phony and could never establish a conversational rhythm with her. If the conversation was not about her, there was no conversation. He was “best friends” with her. He told me so when I met him. I knew that going in. I knew it. I chose it.

Sara has a lot of friends. She holds them close. Especially her ex-boyfriends. There are always a few of them hanging around at these things. And all of her friends were my ex-husband’s friends and thus became my friends. Or so I thought. At least, until the divorce. Then they vanished. Or I vanished. I probably vanished.

And although I like his new girlfriend Julie, I am not so sure about going to a party at Sara’s, but I want to be with my daughter, so I am going. I am going.

I went.

I was sober. I did not drink. Even though I have not decided entirely to be sober. I knew it was a good idea to not drink. Even I knew that much.

I felt awkward and uncomfortable for most of it- spending the majority of my time with my daughter and any other children that arrived. It was the first time I saw my Ex be affectionate with another woman. I will say, that was hard. And weird. And surreal.

I avoided Sara. I am pretty good at that by now.

It was time to go and see the actual fireworks but I did not have a better plan than the five of us going to my Ex’s apartment downtown;  him, Julie, Addy, Pony, and me.

We went. Like one happy little poly family. Although we are not poly. I am just really nice to Julie and she is really nice to me and our girls get along and I am good at hiding resentments towards my ex. So I repressed and expressed and digressed. I am sure.

It was fine. The whole thing was fine. I felt a little bit of pride, leaving, that I made it through. That I did it and that it was possible. Even if I was not sure what the possibilities were.

But Julie and I hung out while our children played and my Ex did his thing and fireworks went off across the city. But none during our night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

WHITE PEOPLE CAN’T BE SHAMANS

 

Not so sure I want the job, but I applied anyways. It’s full time. Less time with my daughter. Don’t like that very much.

Ideally, I could keep growing my business organically. But a consistent paycheck would also be nice.

I am leaving it up to the universe.

Whatever is best for me and her.

Speaking of, today, had a very intense and disturbing yet enlightening experience at my daughter’s school. Apparently she has been playfully “hitting” her BFF and not stopping when said BFF tells her to. The BFF told her Mother who got extremely upset and possibly “overreacted” in my opinion, but she is a good friend, and like me, a highly intelligent, extremely sensitive, very emotional, and complicated woman. Which are all qualities I admire and yet, make a situation like this potentially volatile. I handled it, initially, very well. I thought. When she and I and the girls addressed it together. But today we sat down with the director of our daughters’ preschool and I did not fair as well. It felt like the director favored this woman and her child over mine. Which may or may not be true, but triggered me in a BIG BAD way. I had to listen to her tell my friend what an amazing mother she is and how brave her daughter was for bringing this up and how if she (the director of the school) could come back (to this planet, I assume) she would want my friend as her mother, she is so stellar.

I watched as my daughter struggled in excruciating pain trying to make sense of her feelings no matter how many times the director told her she was not wrong or bad for hitting her friend, she just needed to stop it, and then the director went on to tell me that in her meditation that morning, she had come upon the insight that she thought my daughter was hitting her friend because she didn’t feel “seen” by me. She then asked my daughter if she did not feel “seen” by me. My daughter nodded and said quietly, “yes.” My daughter is FIVE-FUCKING-YEARS-OLD! She does not know what that means! I nearly lost my shit, internally and externally.

This woman knows that I have told her how I never felt “seen” by my mother.

This felt cruel and unusual.

I had an appointment with a shaman so I had to leave and could not process in the moment.I cried with the shaman about it all.

Instead, I cried first thing with the shaman. Who I had never met before. He was a white man who used to be a family medicine doctor and was apparently very successful by the look of his house in La Canada- but who seemed kind and warm and empathetic. First of all, white people can’t be shamans. I know this now. I did not know that then.

He used crystals, sang songs, four directions, blew sage smoke on me, and spit rose water on me. It was all very entertaining, but to be honest, I did not take it too seriously.

Saying this now, I sound at best like a mad-woman and at worst, like an idiot.

But it all made sense in the moment. I assure you.

And I felt so present and in my body afterwards. No picking ripping chewing. I sat and looked him in the eyes and felt a peace never before.

That was worth it, for what it is worth.

When I was leaving he told me I might hear from someone in my past that day, it usually happened, and if it did, I could choose how I wanted to respond.

When I got home, Tommy, from High School, not only friended me on Facebook, but sent a message.

How weird is that?

And what am I going to do with it?

WHAT DAY IS IT?

Strange experience with time today.

I dropped my daughter off at school, picked up the bullshit overpriced supplements to get rid of my ridiculous adult acne that apparently is based on my dire lack of self-love and then went home and spent twenty minutes trying to connect to a webinar that doesn’t happen until tomorrow.

It dawned on me, at the moment I figured out what day it REALLY was, that I had tons of free time! So I worked my ass off checking off boxes, wrote a cover letter for a job and took a nap! When all was done, I walked to the beautiful SRF gardens and lay in the grass to connect with Mother Nature. I asked her to take my self-doubt and hate and to replace it with the love I find so elusive. While walking and meditating a moment later some things Jessica said to me kept reverberating in my mind:

I don’t have to settle or survive.

I choose me.

Fuck.

I do!

I choose me!

I am finally getting excited about me. I think I actually kind of like who I am. Seriously. I am not joking. I kind of rule. I kind of kick ass. Not in an arrogant way, but in a for-once-non-self-deprecating- way.

Boundaries = self-love

THE DREAM!!

I dreamed last night that I was taking care of a baby dolphin. I held it in my arms before I put it into a small enclosed pool of water. Suddenly, a large black male wolf who had been following me comes out of nowhere diving into the water, grabbing the dolphin by the tail and dragging her down with him to her presumed death.

I woke up sobbing.

This is what dating feels like to me.

The second I have sex with someone I get pulled down into a deep well of emotional pain. Dragged to my emotional death.

I read up on it- and the wolf, in this context, represents feeling threatened by something or someone. Ha. And the dolphin is peaceful playfulness. Exactly how I feel when I am good with being alone.

Peaceful. Playful. Content with me.

And then – wham- the wolf comes out of nowhere and drags me to my demise.

I am so fucking glad Refuge Recovery ended it with me. SO FUCKING GLAD.

AND I am so happy I drank again. That I had the balls to test that theory out and that I have the balls now to say, No Thank you. Not for me. But there is a lightness to it. Not the heaviness that set me apart from the rest of humanity. That made me arrogant, and felt I was somehow better than or more spiritual than others because I was “sober in AA.” I am a worker among workers. A human being having a very human experience.

I hope I get this job.

I really do.

 

 

LOVE ME SOME BRENE BROWN

Went to Portland this weekend with my Mom and Pony. I LOVE that city. The water in the air ionized my anxiety and I was at peace. For once.

While there my ex-husband sent me this text:

Thank you for being so kind to Julie and I. You’ve moved a mountain.
I am grateful you and I are friends.
I think you are super cool.

I have to say, it is bittersweet to read this.

I guess they worked it through- which is ultimately what I wanted for them.But man, life would be so much easier if he had wanted to work it through with me.

Ugh.

I mean, I am the mother of his child. At the very least, it would have saved him a shitload of money.

I’ve abandoned the online dating. Again. After one week. I found that when the conversation turned to actually meeting up, I was not ready. So I felt unfair.

A great quote from Brene Brown:

”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:

I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go.

Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”
Brené Brown

A GOOD DAY AFTER ALL

The retreat. Meditation Intervention.

Meditation Intervention.

The teacher used four modules as precursors to relapse.

  1. Craving and Urge
  2. Stress, anger, and depression
  3. Trauma
  4. Dysfunctional interpersonal relationships

He suggested Noble Silence. I did not observe. I struggled with that one.

Saturday night he gave a three-hour lecture on Attachment Theory and afterward I sat in the chapel and sobbed.

I heard so much of myself in the anxious- preoccupied Attachment style that it made me nauseous. The theory is that whatever style you attached to your primary caregiver predetermines the style you attach to relationships. This makes sense.

It feels hopeless.

But there is hope.

I mean, I hope there is hope.

During the retreat, my Ex’s girlfriend reached out for insight and help. She left a message on my phone. He broke up with her and she was distraught. I questioned whether I should call her back or not. Noble silence aside, I knew it was selfish of me, but I wanted validation. I called her back.

I wanted to know I was not crazy. She let me know that I was not.

My Ex is my Ex still.

Once that was over, I found myself trying to give her all of the tools of a “secure attachment” that I was learning. I was actually counseling my Ex-Husband’s Girlfriend in how to stay together.

What a fucking strange world I live in.

Refuge Recovery guy was there. He was observing Noble Silence. I was grateful for that. We never spoke once.

I was so uncomfortable in my skin on the retreat that I broke out in the worst acne I have ever had. I didn’t know what was causing it at the time.

I realized how much I want to see instead of being seen. How much I morph into what I think you want me to be. That I feel like I don’t even know who I am or what I want.

 

During our parent teacher conference I lamented about my skin, and Sayde suggested I look into spiritual causes.

I did.

Apparently, acne is a symptom of not loving oneself. Of being EXTREMELY sensitive. Of being uncomfortable in one’s skin. Of not wanting to be seen.

I have been crying all afternoon.

Went on a walk, crossed paths with a coyote.
Coyote medicine is to not take things too seriously, to lighten up, and look for the hidden meaning in things.

I would say today was a good day.

After all.

SOBER AND ALONE

TODAY SUCKS ASS.

I wish I never had sex with him. Why did I do that? What am I doing?

I feel so fucking broken in this arena.

So much regret. Always. With the whole “Sex” thing.

Seriously

SOBER AND ALONE

It is the only way

This is what the suffering is saying to me:

“You give it up too soon. You suck.  You can’t adult. Who told you, you could adult? What a crock of shit that was. You have no idea how to navigate this social world- how to make a living. Buy a house. Save for retirement. Anything. You have poison oak all over your body and bumpy skin on your face. Your tattoos are merely a cover up for the pain you wish to inflict on yourself. A debt that can never be paid. It is another form of cutting. Just call it what it is.”

HOWEVER

I love my daughter so much. So incredibly much. Holding her singing her to sleep tonight was the sweetest thing on the planet. What do I care what this guy thinks of me? Seriously. I think I am going to have to just accept that I am not relationship material. It’s just not in the cards, as Alison said. Just get with God, honey. Get with God.

I guess this meditation retreat this weekend will reveal more. I am sure of it

I know half of it is a story in my head- beliefs I have about myself causing this colossal emotion coursing through me.

Fuck it.

SOBER AND ALONE.

I’m ordering my T-shirt and bumper stickers now.