lmvschmidt

NO HARD FEELINGS

when my body won’t hold me anymore and it finally lets me free, will I be ready? when my feet won’t walk another mile and my lips give their last kiss goodbye, will my hands be steady when I lay down my fears, my hopes and my doubts, the rings on my fingers and the keys to my house? with no hard feelings…

Life sometimes has a way of making us feel uncomfortable. I feel that I am uncomfortable most of the time. The level of discomfort depends on where your head is at. It can be a tiny blip on your radar if you’re feeling pretty good. And it can skyrocket if you aren’t feeling so great (mentally, physically, whatever). I have been feeling uncomfortable for longer than I can remember. My anxiety is higher than it’s ever been. I can’t get my thoughts to last longer than a few seconds (my notes have notes). My heart is almost always racing and I just don’t feel right. My sleeping patterns are all over the place because I’m not calm when I go to sleep. I know the reason why and it’s unfortunate that at this moment no one can really help me. The only thing that I can do is write it out.

My grandmother has been one of my primary priorities for the last decade plus. The last couple of years have been a little chaotic because obviously she was aging (like the rest of us) but she was finally at the point where she was acting “old”. She couldn’t hear or see too well and everything was becoming a struggle for her. She still lived alone, cooked 3 meals a day for herself and her routine was pretty much the same everyday. There were times where I would be concerned but they always passed. Somewhere along the line I lost all sight of rational thought when it came to her and I don’t regret a second of it. I called her a million times a day for my own sanity. If she was ok then I was ok, that’s just how it worked. I called her before bed every night just so I could sleep soundly knowing she was alright.

One night a few years ago, I called 3 times before bed with no answer. My husband, knowing my neurosis when it came to grammy, said let’s just go over there and check on her. When I got to her apartment I noticed that her door was ajar and I heard a very faint “help” coming from inside. My heart dropped into my stomach and I ran down the hallway. There she was, sitting on the floor, her dinner still on her walker by the door. While she was getting dinner ready, around 5:30 PM, she lost her footing. She fell so slowly that she didn’t hurt anything but she didn’t have the upper body strength to lift herself up. She crawled over to her chair and sat on the floor so she could watch TV. I showed up at 9:45 PM. She sat there for 4 hours. I had bought a Life Alert (the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” button/system) for this exact reason but the button was in the basket of her walker, not around her neck. I called my husband to come in and help me lift her up. We stayed there until she went to bed around 11 PM because I was terrified to leave her alone.

I know this probably sounds completely insane but it made total sense to me. She needed me and I had no problem taking care of her. If I called in the middle of the day and something was wrong with her TV, I would leave Manhattan during my lunch break, take the train back to Queens, walk to her house, fix it and head back to work. It was usually an easy fix, like she pressed the wrong button because she couldn’t see very well. People would ask me why I would run over and my answer would always be that she was my old lady and I would do anything for her. If all you did all day was sit and watch TV and the TV was broken, what would you do until I got home from work? Maybe I was wearing blinders but the way I saw it was that she always took care of me growing up so why wouldn’t I reciprocate?

I hate it when people ask me why I did stuff like that for her. I never felt obligated to take care of her. It was second nature to me. And yes, sometimes I would get frustrated because my nerves were completely shot, but when she was good, she was good for a while. I always had faith in the back of my mind that she would get back to good.

When COVID hit and the world shut down I didn’t want to put her at risk. I was working from home and was only a few blocks away if she needed me. I stayed away out of sheer paranoia, plus my husband was still going to work in the city everyday and we didn’t know at the time if he was at risk. We didn’t see anyone but each other for 6-8 weeks. I think we can all agree that March-May 2020 was a really weird time and just like the rest of the world we only saw the people we lived with. I called grammy a million times a day and our conversations were always very light despite all the shit going on around us. When the weather got nicer we would go over to her house and take her for a walk or sit on her front porch for a little while just to get her out and keep her moving.

Things were good for a few months. She didn’t complain much. I remember feeling relieved and impressed that she was totally fine during a global pandemic. Our weekly visits resumed and things seemed to be getting back to normal (whatever the hell that was/is). Sometime after the summer, it’s all a blur right now, her health started to decline. She was going to bed really early. When I would call her during the day she would get mixed up about what time of day it was. She’s in her late 90’s so it’s not like that’s unusual for her age. All things considered, she was in really great cognitive health. I felt the anxiety start up again and I reverted back to my old ways of calling her a million times a day.

Sometime in September her health took a really strange turn. I was going over to her house in the morning before work and at night after work. I’m not going to get into what I did when I was there because it’s irrelevant. Every night I tucked her into bed, told her I loved her, locked up and went home. It was exhausting, but at the time it made sense to me. I finally got her an appointment with a specialist and thought we had finally gotten her pain resolved and under control. But when I called her the next day she was in a different kind of pain and I realized that this was beyond anything I could do to help. I contacted a home health aid agency and scheduled a cleaning service to deep clean her apartment before the aid started the following week.

This particular turn of events made me believe that everything happens for a reason. I hired the health aid and we arranged for her to start on Thursday. I ordered some things to help grammy around the house and got her a brand new walker to cruise around with. I got a phone call telling me that the aid could actually start on Wednesday. My grandmother wasn’t keen on this idea but she refused assisted living and I told her this was our only option. I told her it was like having a personal assistant and she liked that idea. I was really impressed with how respectful the aid was and she treated my grandmother with so much kindness and I was so happy that my grandmother was happy with her.

The next day, Thursday, was bad. I called when I got to work and my grandmother wasn’t feeling well at all. The aid got there a little earlier and called me. She said she made grandma breakfast but she was having a hard time eating. Her stomach was a mess and nothing seemed right. My mother was off from work that day and I told her to go over. I told her that if grammy was in bad shape to push the Life Alert button. When my mother got there and spoke to her, she explained that if they pushed the button she would be going to the hospital. My grandmother told her to push it. My grandmother hated that button, so for her to give consent to push it, things were bad.

Everything happens for a reason. I’m so grateful the aid was with my grandmother a day earlier. I’m glad she paid attention and knew something was wrong. I’m so grateful that the she was with her and that my grandmother trusted her. They rode in the ambulance to the ER together and my mother followed behind them. Since we were still in living in pandemia, my grandmother was admitted to the ER alone. It was unnerving waiting on phone calls from doctors and I couldn’t imagine what it was like for her.

She was diagnosed with colitis and hypokalemia (potassium deficiency) which was so low it could have been fatal. She was admitted and they were dosing her with potassium every 4 hours for 5 days until her levels were finally normal. Visiting hours were a little better once she was admitted and a few of us took turns going to see her. She was still her feisty self but most of the time she was confused and out of it. When she was released a week later they put her in rehab at a local nursing home to get her walking again. She was confused and agitated and it took her some time to acclimate. The nursing home was closed to visitors due to COVID. After a week it was recommended that I fill out the paperwork for long term care since her doctor would not release her to go home alone. She was approved which was great but the whole situation was weird. Things would have been easier without a goddamn global pandemic, obviously (eye roll).

After a few weekly FaceTime calls with her I noticed that she was starting to act like her old self again. I spoke with her children and her doctors and nurses and decided she was the perfect candidate for assisted living. It would be just like living on her own but professionals were there if she needed them. I was excited to see her in person after 2 months but when we got to the assisted living she was furious with me. She expected to go to her own home and couldn’t understand why I brought her to this place. That was a really bad day. The director of the assisted living told me to stay away for a few days and let her get used to it. Within a week she had calmed down and the agitation and confusion had subsided. She was at the assisted living for 24 days.

I went to visit on a Friday afternoon in January so that I could fix her TV (some things never change). The facility was still not really allowing visitors but because she was still fairly new they were a little more lenient. She was in good spirits and we had a nice time together. She asked me to take her outside for a cigarette. After 70+ years of smoking I guess that urge really never goes away. She hadn’t smoked in about a week and got lightheaded. When we were coming back inside, it all happened so fast, but she lost her footing, fell and broke her hip. Or her hip broke and she fell. Either way, I blamed myself. I couldn’t catch her before she hit the floor. I shouldn’t have taken her out for a smoke. The list goes on. They rushed me out of the facility because technically I wasn’t supposed to be there. She got rushed to the hospital and I got a phone call from the surgeon that night telling me her surgery for half hip replacement was scheduled for Sunday morning.

The surgery was a success considering her age. Obviously, she had to get readmitted into rehab once she was released from the hospital. She has been there ever since. Since she was gone for less than a month, I didn’t have to fill out any new paperwork. Her confusion and agitation was worse this time around. She had major surgery and has no recollection of any of it. She has no idea why she isn’t able to really walk. And this whole thing has been nothing but absolute heartbreak. I’m not even saying that for dramatic affect. I know this post is extremely long but it is my life right now. I took care of her for so long and I can’t help but think that I failed her.

None of this makes sense to me. I am doing my best to advocate for her on the outside. Visits finally opened up again so we have been able to see her every week. But it’s absolutely devastating that she is trapped in this body that sits in a wheelchair all day. Her mind is there most of the time which is a blessing and a curse. Part of me wishes she didn’t realize what was going on, but most of the time she does. You would think that considering how involved I was before, maybe a little too much, that this would be a relief for me. She is finally getting the care that she needs. But it’s not. I’m absolutely gutted. I am riddled with guilt and my primary emotion is sadness. I am not alright.

I don’t understand what kind of lesson we are supposed to learn from this. This was not the life that any of us wanted for her. Am I supposed to learn that life isn’t fair sometimes? I knew that already. It is devastating to see her living this miserable existence because she doesn’t deserve it. She deserves peace. Even if I could move her out of there I wouldn’t. The time for her to acclimate to someplace new would be even longer and that’s not fair to her either. It just makes me so sad that this is how she is going to live out the rest of her life.

It really upsets me when people tell me that I finally got my life back and that I’m “free”. I’m free from the burden of taking care of her. She was never a burden to me. All this situation has done is amplified every bad feeling that I had. The guilt, anxiety, all of it. I want to scream at myself for all the times I got frustrated out of exhaustion and just wanted her to agree to go live at a place that could help her so I could get a break. I’m so upset that I didn’t see what was happening and waited too long to get her help before she got sick. I told myself I could handle it and I failed.

Do you just turn those feelings off? HOW? I tried online counseling during her first week back in rehab thinking that if I could just talk it out with someone that I would feel better. The counselor would ask me questions like “what’s the worst case scenario, you get the phone call that she passed away?” NO. That’s not the worst case scenario. The worst case scenario would be that something bad happened to her that would set her back another few months and once again I wasn’t there to help her. And I know that sounds codependent and dramatic but I don’t care. All of this is out of my hands and I’m not ok with it.

The only thing that I can do is speak to her social worker to correct the things she complains to me about and that brings a twinge of calm my way, but it doesn’t last long. Maybe I could use some more therapy but I’m not in the right head space to spend time and money that I don’t have on something I know won’t help. I see her face when I close my eyes and I wish so badly that I could just wrap her in a bubble and protect her.

I appreciate you reading this post and if you made it all the way to the end then you are a champ! I know that things will get better but we often don’t see the light until we are out of the woods. And I am very much in the woods right now. Above all things my grandmother is being cared for whether she wanted to be or not. And I’m grateful that at 98 she is still the spitfire she always was. I just want what is best for her and I’m not sure that either one of us knows what that is at this moment. And if you read this and thought that this whole scenario seemed a little extra you’re probably right, but I can’t hear your negative opinions on it. I should be able to confidently say that everything is fine but I need to get used to it and accept that fact. I am very uncomfortable and I’m doing the best that I can.

when my body won’t hold me anymore and it finally lets me free, where will I go? will the trade winds take me south through Georgia grain? or tropical rain? or snow from the heavens? will I join with the ocean blue? or run into the savior true and shake hands laughing? and walk through the night, straight to the light, holding the love I’ve known in my life… and no hard feelings…

Song name: NO HARD FEELINGS/ Artist: The Avett Brothers/ Year: 2016

WAIT IT OUT

where do we go from here? how do we carry on? I can’t get beyond the questions… clambering for the scraps in the shatter of us collapsed, it cuts me with every could have been… pain on pain on play, repeating, with the back up makeshift life in waiting… everybody says that time heals everything, but what of the retched hollow? the endless in-between? are we just going to wait it out?

Have you spent a lot of time living with regrets? Things you should have done or said? The moment passed and you missed the opportunity? I have heard so many people say that they regret nothing and that regrets only hold you back. I agree with them holding you back but I find it hard to believe that they have not one thing to regret… I mean, just say you have some but you don’t let them cripple you. I get it. If you are constantly going back in your mind and wishing you did or said something different then how can you move forward? For someone like me who is constantly worried about how I made someone feel, especially if it was bad, it is really hard for me not to live in what feels like a constant state of regret.

Now that I’m trying to only move forward in my life, I realize that it would be impossibly difficult for me to think that I have the ability to make everyone happy. It isn’t something that can always be done because we are all different. Our goals in life may align but we are all made up of different stuff. We process our feelings in different ways. Something that might make me really happy could make you feel like shit. Something I enjoy might be something that triggers you in a bad way or vice versa. And when you are trying so desperately to tie everything up into a beautiful bow, you realize very quickly that it’s damn near impossible.

My issue is that I only wish for really great reactions from people. When I get mediocre at best reactions to things that I tried my best on, that’s a direct hit for me. Down the rabbit hole I go, collecting regret, self-doubt and anxiety on my way down. I self-destruct and pick apart everything I did, wallowing in where I went wrong. Here’s the thing though, I don’t have to go above and beyond to make someone else happy. And if their reactions have always been mediocre at best then why would I keep trying to get a great one? Seems a little bit like I was doing it to myself…

I unintentionally set myself up because I have unrealistic expectations of people. I expect everyone to react or respond the way I would when I see that someone put time and effort into something. I want so badly to believe that I’m doing right or that they’ll do right by me. Searching for acceptance in every experience. And when they let me down or don’t do what I expected, it hurts me. That’s a deep rooted character flaw but I’m learning everyday not to expect anything from anyone. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to go about it but I need to be able to protect myself. I need to be able not feel slaughtered by every disappointment. It is very much a part of life and you can learn from it for sure.

I realized recently that I have held on to every trigger from my childhood up to now. I don’t need a therapist to tell me that. When I’m triggered by a feeling, especially a bad one, I am transported back to the first time I ever felt it. I feel small, like I don’t matter. I really don’t like that feeling at all. I allow myself to feel small and wish I could disappear (like the meme of Homer Simpson backing up into the bushes). When people make me feel small I feel like an idiot for ever letting them know me. That’s a little dramatic, no?

Life experiences are the threads that sew us together and make us who we are. My experiences have made me super empathetic. I mean, I’m really downplaying it here because if I’m being totally honest, I’m a bleeding fucking heart. If you’re upset and, lord help us, it’s because of something I did, I’m going to lash out and cry. That’s not a YOU issue, that’s a ME issue. I never want to make someone feel the way that I have felt and when I do it unintentionally, I just want to disappear into a puff of smoke.

That’s a little extreme but it’s on my very long list of shit to fix. What you can do when you fuck up, whether you meant to or not, is OWN YOUR SHIT. Apologize if given the opportunity. Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it. Don’t say sorry if you’re not. If you own your shit and will die on that hill believing that you weren’t wrong, then do you boo-boo. Life is going to get very lonely for you. If we are all sewn together with different threads then none of us can truly say that we know what it’s like to be someone else. You have to take other people’s experiences into account. I’m not saying psychoanalyze every person you meet but to think that you’re always right and never wrong is a pretty bold statement.

Because I’m a bleeding heart I have been making it a point to see that life is so much bigger than me and goes so far beyond what I have personally experienced. Everything in my world is fine and as long as I stay grateful for it, I know I won’t turn into a miserable piece of shit. Listen, some people are just assholes. There’s nothing you can do about that. There are people who will force their beliefs, ideas, opinions, whatever on you with no valid information to back it up. They’ll stand at their social media podiums ready to push their thoughts directly into your face. There’s no need to engage. These are people who can’t own their shit and would never admit to being wrong, so why get involved? If you are the type of person who lives in a world of ego where only you exist, you will find, eventually, there’s no one left to preach your bullshit to.

So what’s this rambling ass post actually about? Don’t be a dick! HA! No, but seriously, you can live with regret without it killing you from the inside out. If you haven’t been given the opportunity to right what you feel was wrong you can stew about it until the opportunity to correct it presents itself. I know that there are a LOT of assholes in this world and you might be really close to some of them, but above all things, people appreciate kindness. So maybe you were stewing about something you felt was wrong and when you get a chance to say something they may act like it wasn’t even a thing. But the fact that you put it out there in a kind way can only affect them positively. And they may have not even realized that they needed it. You’ll probably feel like a weight has been lifted off of you and isn’t that a good feeling? Don’t we have enough shit to worry about?!

I’m not going to let regrets or disappointments take me down. I’ve come way to far to let that shit slow down my progress even more than it already has. If you know that you’re undeniable truth is that you are a good person then no one can take that from you. You can be strong without being awful. You can have your moments where everything feels wrong and still not be an awful person. Do some people deserve awful from you? YES. But just because they went low, doesn’t mean you go lower. There is always a place for you on the high road.

are we just going to wait it out? and sit here cold? look, you’ll be long gone by then… and lackluster in dust we lay ’round old magazines, fluorescent lighting sets the scene for all we could and should being in the one life that we’ve got…

Song name: WAIT IT OUT/ Artist: Imogen Heap/ Year: 2009

GREAT BIG STORM

Broken hearts, broken homes and broken bones, secret love let me go, you know I gotta find my own way through mistakes that I can’t change… Because there’s beauty in every sin, every single black eye has some blue like the moon just before the sun shines, no I don’t believe in all the things that they preach…

Trauma has been weighing heavily on my mind. I hate talking about it but it’s something that needs to be talked about. I have been trying so hard to sift through the bullshit that swishes around my brain just so I can get a clear fucking thought, but some days are harder than others. The greatest thing that I came across in my healing journey was reading something somewhere a few years ago that said your body holds on to trauma in different ways and in different parts of your body. Do you know how wild that is? Let’s dive in!

When my husband proposed to me 3 years ago, obviously I was so happy. But not long after he put the ring on my finger my brain short circuited. And I put on a front for everyone around me because I knew everything was changing. Everyone around me changed. I was no longer me, I was someone’s fiance. I didn’t know how to be that and it scared the shit out of me like you would not believe. People only asked about the ring and the wedding and that was weird to me. I was going to be someone’s wife. Not just any someone, his wife. The best man on this planet (in my humble opinion), and in my head I was so afraid I was going to fuck everything up.

I had no idea why I felt that everything changed. I questioned why he would actually want to be tied to me forever. I was a mess and I felt like tying himself to me would only make his life miserable. That’s where my head was at. I felt that I would make a terrible wife and I thought that marriage would put these weird expectations on our relationship. I buried myself in alcohol and acted like an idiot and for what? So he would leave?! That couldn’t have been what outside me wanted so why was inside me acting like an idiot?

I discovered that I had a special place buried deep in my body, I don’t know where but it was in there, that let me believe that ultimately everyone will leave me. Abandonment issues much? So when I could no longer stand myself and my anxiety was through the roof, I came to the conclusion that maybe I needed some help. My brain was constantly like WHAT THE FUCK?! And I was like I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!! It wasn’t the best time for me mentally and I decided to try somatic therapy.

Here’s the definition from Psychology Today: Somatic therapy is a form of body-centered therapy that looks at the connection of mind and body and uses both psychotherapy and physical therapies for holistic healing.

I made an appointment, not knowing what to expect but absolutely knowing that I needed to do this. And I’m lucky that my husband loved me enough to let me go through whatever it was that I needed to go through for my mental health. Do you understand that literally NO ONE had ever done that for me? I was always too much, too dramatic, too everything. I am eternally grateful that he gave me the time and space to work through this mental hiccup.

There was a LOT of stuff to talk about in therapy. I was holding on to more trauma than my body could handle. Every 1 hour session had me sobbing. My therapist would ask me questions and I found myself stumbling on my words trying to find answers that when they came out literally made no sense. And she would look at me and I would look at her and her face was like “right?” and I was like “yea”. Sometimes she would ask me questions that would drum up all the tears before I could even think of an answer. Of course it stemmed back to my childhood. OF. COURSE. IT. DID. And I spent a lot of time in those sessions talking to the little girl inside of me that I had been ignoring for years. She was in there and she was terrified. Who knew?!

Just to be clear, I’m not here to blame my parents, I’m too fucking old for that. Eventually you get to a point where have to take responsibility for your own life. And that’s what I’m trying to do every single day. I was too young to remember when my parents split and all the bullshit that followed. For as long as Adult Me can remember my parents were apart. Maybe I blocked it out? Maybe our brains really don’t have the capacity to remember that far back? Maybe… However, if my time in somatic therapy taught me anything it’s that my body still held on to every feeling I ever felt and made me the mess of a person that walked into that office. Am I proud that putting a ring on my finger made me spiral and ultimately helped me find that out? No, not so much. But I’m grateful that I hit mental rock bottom because I could only go up from there.

Was I magically healed from my time in somatic therapy? No, I still have work to do. But it was a kick in the ass that I needed to get me started. And I now have tools to help me navigate through the ridiculous web my brain can weave. I still hold on to so much (ahem, see the last 2 posts) but I’m aware of the need to let go and that’s half the battle. I am determined to break that cycle. I listen to people with my heart and I can see their hurt when they’re acting horrible. I know it’s so fucking lame to say but hurt people really DO hurt people. I was one of them. Was I going right for the jugular intentionally? No. But cue the shame, guilt, etc. anyway…

We all fuck up. We are human beings and sometimes we are total assholes. We can’t help it. When you dig a little deeper to find out why you were a total asshole, well my friends, that’s a damn eye opener. You can’t close your eyes when you’re digging because you could jam the shovel right into your toes and lose one. It would be a disaster. So open your eyes and dig. Where does your rage, anger, fear, sadness, happiness come from? Most of it comes from life experiences, naturally. You find what makes you feel all of those feelings and you either run away or towards those things. My point is that even when you think there’s no reason for you to feel what you’re feeling, whatever that feeling is, there is a reason buried somewhere inside.

We look to our parents for unconditional love. They’re the ones who are supposed to love you no matter what. They are supposed to be the ones who show you how to do this life thing. But they’re just humans. And sometimes they really don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. They’re just winging it. But you put them on this tall, shiny pedestal because they’re your fucking parents. The truth is though, they may have been going through their asshole stage of life right when you needed them to developmentally mold you. Or their parents were fucking awful and as much as they wanted to not become their parents, they did because that’s all they knew. Maybe they didn’t have access to therapy the way we do now. Fixing your mental health is a fairly new concept and I know that people around my parents’ age and older think you’re a fucking quack if you actually want to go to therapy. So when you tell a parent (or both) and they look at you like you’re crazy, that’s like insanely helpful…

Above all things, I want to let go of the trauma. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away. Unfortunately that’s not how any of this works. Ain’t that a bitch? The good news is that there are resources to help you wade through the shit. Not every resource is the right one and sometimes you have to do a lot of work to find what works for you. I personally tried a few and each one of them helped me at the time. And I know that my life was good but really messy and I didn’t get through it the way most people would. But I’m here now. And I have healthy relationships with the people who matter most to me.

Stop putting unnecessary pressure on yourself to be something that you’re not. Regardless of how people will feel or treat you. I learned that the hard way. For the people who matter the most to you, it won’t change how they feel. And if it does change how they feel, they’re not your people. If the people who don’t accept you happen to be your parents, you have to remember that you are here for a reason. They brought you into this world and they were supposed to be your people, but if they can’t do that for you, it’s their loss. You have to know that.

This was an insanely heavy post but I can’t apologize for it. I dug up some really awful feelings thinking about my faults. And it’s your choice if you want to bury all the bullshit. I just have no room for it anymore, so I go through my ways of getting it out. Am I the perfect wife? NO. But my husband wasn’t asking for perfect. When he asked me to marry him he just wanted someone he could walk through this shit show with. Based on past experience, I know I can absolutely do that…

Because we’re holding our own in a great big storm, and though we’re cutting it close we won’t let go… Oh no I can’t believe everything falling down around me, but now we’re holding our own and won’t let go… Holding our own in a great big storm, it’s a great big storm and we’re holding our own…

Song: GREAT BIG STORM/ Artist: Nate Ruess/ Year: 2015

FADE

I try to breathe… Memories overtaking me… I try to face them but the thought is too much to conceive… I only know that I can change, everything else just stays the same…

So the last post, UNCHARTED, was about letting go. It’s a process. Everyday I am learning more about how to do it. Getting the confidence in myself to actually let go of the shit I need to let go of. It’s fucking hard (that’s what she said) but it is necessary. I have spent so much of my life holding on to pain, shame, guilt, anger, all of it. And I created this lead character for myself in my story that was a victim. And when you finally open your eyes and see this story unfolding, you’re like, um excuse me, who the fuck is writing this shit?!

It’s a very weird day when you realize that it’s YOU. YOU did/are doing that and there is no one to blame but yourself. Yikes. You mean I have to take responsibility for this shitty character that I created? Yea, you do. This character got me to this point in my life. It has also brought some really great shit along with all the bad shit. So why would I choose to focus on the bad? Sounds like it’s time to let it go…

Most of my life has been spent people pleasing. ME is not included when I say people. It has always been easier to give myself to other people than to focus on the shit I have been stuffing down for decades. But all that shit has caught up to me. And I’m just done. I want to be done with people and things that no longer bring me happiness. The big realization that was staring me right in the face and I chose to ignore it is that most of the things I may have classified as bringing me happiness were actually causing me a LOT of fucking pain. And that’s how you get to the point where you’re done, done. And it can happen really dramatically or it can be a really quiet thing that happens between you and you. Either way, you get to that point and there is no turning back.

I got to this point a little over a month ago. Have you ever had an experience that was so fucking eye opening that you were actually at peace when the emotional dust settled? Or like, you didn’t even know you needed to see it but you did and then something inside of you shifted? I have spent years of my life trying to just be included. I never asked for anything other than inclusion and this particular experience just made me realize that it won’t ever happen.

Anyway, the stars aligned on this one and I saw everything that I needed to see. And I blew up, cried my eyes out to my husband (God bless him) and I looked at him and I saw how hurt he was for me and I just said “I’m done”. And we both knew, in that moment, that I meant it. And so for his sake, but most importantly for MY sake, I mean it this time. There is no going back.

It has been a really weird thing for me. Being done. I always give people second (third, fourth, fifth, etc.) chances, even when they don’t deserve it. Even when history has proven that they’ll do it again. Even when they have made it perfectly clear that there is no space for me in their lives. But when they need me, I’m there. That sounds like a sick fucking cycle that needs to be broken NOW. And so there is no better time for me to do it. This one really fucking broke me. And the worst part is that they won’t even notice. Actually, is that the worst part? There is no worst part here. Because if they won’t notice, then I won’t have the opportunity to give however many chances to start the cycle again. Look at me, writing shit out and learning shit!

You are in charge of the character you write. Who do you want to be? Think about it. Dig deep. You are allowed to be who you want to be. Yea, life can deal us a really shitty hand sometimes, but we absolutely have the ability to turn it around. We have a rite in this life to change. I read a quote (don’t quote me because I’m gonna fuck it up) that said something to the tune of you don’t have to be who you were 15 minutes ago. I fucked it up so I looked it up so you have the real quote: “You’re under no obligation to be the same person you were 5 minutes ago.” Well I’m glad I looked it up! I was a little off on the minutes but the general idea was there (she shrugs).

My point is that we don’t have to hold on to the person we were if it no longer satisfies us. Even if it was just a few minutes ago. I don’t have to be the victim, maybe for a little bit of time I really believed that I was? But why should I continue to be a person that hangs on to the bad shit? Why should I be continually angry and hurt by people and things that in the grand scheme of things really don’t matter? Do I want to drive all of the good people and things out of my life? Because hanging on to the bad shit is a sure fire way to do that. The ability to find that character and write my story is within me and I am on my way to writing her the way she deserves to be written. It has been a bumpy road, but it won’t always be that way and that gives me shit loads of hope.

Now I’m older and I feel like I could let some of this anger fade… But it seems the surface I am scratching Is the bed that I have made… I never meant to fade…

Song name: FADE / Artist: Staind/ Year: 2001

UNCHARTED

Just me in a room sunk down in a house in a town and I don’t breathe… No, I never meant to let it get away from me… No, too much to hold, everybody has to get their hands on gold, and I want uncharted…

I am going to be honest right from the jump. This post may be loaded and will probably be all over the place. This post is the first of many, the truth is that I don’t even know where to begin. But I promise that I will try to get it together as we move along. So for now, I’m uncharted (not mapped or surveyed). Side note: you’re going to notice that each post begins with a song, probably one that relates to the topic. Music quiets the crazy in my head and lets my imagination run wild so I had to incorporate it into whatever this is…

I have struggled for a long time with being able to speak up when it comes to how people treat me. I have always written it out in some way. And honestly it has been far too long since I’ve written anything out. I have been too busy overthinking everything going on in my life. Even the littlest things set me off and so I thought, maybe it’s time to get back to what makes me let it out and move on.

Lately, I have been hearing and reading things that are telling me to let it go. I know that the first thing you think of when you read that is Elsa, I mean, who isn’t thinking of her? Hell, I’m thinking about her right now. And it speaks volumes that a cartoon character is literally making ALL the sense right now. I’m right there with her, up on that snowy cliff, ready to build my ice castle out of magical shit. The movie is meant for the little ones, but really it’s mentally for the big ones, right?

Anyway, back to my “let it go”. I have a really hard time letting go of shit. I am an emotional hoarder. Thank the good lord no one can see what’s swishing around my gray matter right now. I mean, I can’t even keep up with it. I hold on to every single thing. And then I like to go back and relive it and feel all the feelings even if they’re garbage. And that’s not healthy. Like, at all. I need to be able to forge on and I can’t do that if I’m literally carrying everything with me. Things that don’t belong. Things that don’t deserve to hold a place in my gray matter. Things that are no longer relevant to the person I’m trying to become. Why do I do that? Do you do that?

While I’m at it I should probably mention that I’m not only an emotional hoarder. I would say that my collection of things in my apartment needs to calm the fuck down before I become an actual hoarder like you see on TV. I get emotional attachments to things and feel bad if I throw them out. That’s weird right? Like we bought a new dining room set and when it was time to put the old one on the curb for garbage pick up, I apologized to it and told the table that it was a good table. And then it started raining later that night and I felt really bad for the table. It was in pretty bad shape otherwise I would have sold it but still. Does anyone else do that?

Anyway, I hear it and read it all the time that life is too short. I don’t feel that way. When I hear it, I laugh. Life is not short. I don’t says things like “live life to the fullest!” and “you only live once!” I just can’t get there mentally. Not right now. There is too much emotional shit I’m trying to unpack before I can get there. Everything is too heavy. And I feel the weight of all of it. You can’t carry everything with you. It’s impossible. You are one person. Whatever it is that’s weighing you down, you have to let it go…

Easier said than done. I’m trying really hard to learn how. And I hope to share it all with you. There are a lot of ways to emotionally release the shit that is weighing you down. And you ultimately need to figure out the best way that works for you. Believe me when I say I have tried all the things and I’m still working out which way works best. I still don’t know the right way but I’m finding out what works for me. Sometimes it takes a few tries but you have to keep trying. For yourself. No one else.

This is new for me. And if it’s new for you too then we are in this together. And if this is something you are experienced in, well then I’m open to suggestions. I’m open to anything that will help clear the mind. This whole thing of “letting go” is uncharted for me but I’m fucking here for it. Maybe life isn’t too short but it’s too short to let stupid shit hold me back from being ME. Maybe it’s time to move the fuck on. Maybe it’s time to grab life by the balls and just do whatever you need to do. Either way, it needs to be done. And we can do it together. We can explore all of the uncharted shit together. There’s strength in numbers so I’ve heard…

So let’s do this. You. Me. All of us. We can do this and we will get there. Because, not for nothing, we deserve it. We deserve to let it all go and then move on. We are humans and we are fucking amazing. And we deserve all the good shit we watch happen to everyone else. I’m ready for the uncharted…

I’m going down, follow if you want I won’t just hang around like you’ll show me where to go… I’m already out, a foolproof idea, so don’t ask me how to get started, it’s all uncharted…

Song name: UNCHARTED/ Artist: Sara Bareilles/ Year: 2010

WELCOME

Welcome to Talking on Eggshells! However you got here, I’m so glad you made it!

Maybe you’re dealing with some unresolved trauma, whether it’s recent or it’s been hanging around since childhood? Maybe you’re trying to figure out how to be more assertive and set healthy and realistic boundaries? Maybe you’re trying to figure out how to deal with toxic people in your life? Maybe you have lived your life in a fog and just recently realized that it’s time to start actually living? Maybe you’re disappointed in the world we are currently living in and don’t know how to cope? Maybe you’re not dealing with any of those things but someone important to you is? I am every person that I listed above. And (DISCLAIMER) I am NOT a mental health professional, but I’ve seen a bunch and I have been doing a lot of work on myself over the years. And I just wanted to create a space where I could compile all the things that I’ve learned with all the things I’m still learning so that I can circle back when I need to. Because honestly, sometimes I’m so tired and emotionally drained that I forget that I paid a TON of money that I don’t have to try to get myself back to good.

I have struggled for a very long time with the ability to speak my mind. I’m one of those people who just shoves things down so far because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, or I am afraid of what others will say. I end up getting stuck in situations that pique my anxiety and feelings of dread, I feel uncomfortable, I agree with shit that I don’t agree with just so I don’t look like the asshole who doesn’t agree. And then when I finally hit my internal breaking point, I blow up, cry, lash out, etc. It comes out as a reaction, not a response. Does this sound familiar? If you know this feeling or have witnessed this in people that you care about, you’re in the right place.

I want this blog to be an outlet; for you, for me, for anyone who needs it. A place where you can have the conversations that you might be afraid to have, about what you’re going through, good or bad. I know that you are strong and deep down you know it too. You just can’t express it properly or feel like no one will listen when you finally figure out how to. I have tried very hard to educate myself on how I behave, I am my own worst enemy. I have read a lot of books (I will add links to some of my favorites) and seen different types of mental health professionals. And I haven’t been diagnosed with anything other than anxiety (sprinkled with a dash of depression) but that shit can be crippling when I let it. I just keep telling myself that I am still a work in progress. Did I still want to be a work in progress at 40? That’s a big fat fucking no! But this is life and you can’t compare your progress to the progress of others around you. If you take anything away from this blog let it be this:

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO CONFORM TO SOCIETY’S STANDARDS

I want this to be a place for everyone. I want this to be a place where we educate each other and hear each other out. I want this to be a place you come to and you know you won’t feel like absolute shit once you’re here. I want this to be a place where you can be yourself, whoever that ever changing person is. I am not here to judge you and I will not accept anyone else trying to judge you. This will always be a safe space. I am NOT a self-help guru or a life coach. I am a mess 98% of the time and I just wanted to create a soft place to land when you feel yourself falling. Most importantly, I want you to be able to come here, feeling however you’re feeling, and leave here knowing that you are a little bit closer to being who you want to be.

One more tiny DISCLAIMER… as you might have noticed already, I use bad words. I’m going to continue to use bad words. If the bad words bother you, ignore them, they’re just sentence enhancers.