Tag: healing journey

BLACK LINES TO BATTLEFIELDS

like screaming in the air, the sound for all who care, the siren rings in vain, when lightning hits the ground, to all who stand around, the shock of ignorance…

I haven’t cried hysterically in 2 whole days. I felt like I should tell you that. And I have been trying really hard to keep it that way. The last few days have been busy, but when I have free moments, or time to listen while I’m doing whatever I’m doing, I am working hard at trying to actually heal. I listened to something today that struck a chord with me, and I wanted to write about it. It made perfect sense to me and maybe someone else needs to hear it too.

The abandonment wound is the driving force behind my composition. I have searched high and low for some other explanation, and all roads always lead me right back to it. And so since I’m actually giving this healing shit a shot, I have been diving a little deeper into how to fix it. I’ve said it here before, my self worth is less than zero. I don’t see any value in me being here. Yea, I can do a million things for everyone, but at the end of the day, I always see myself as replaceable. When I think of feeling anything else about myself, I feel weird. Because it’s not something that is familiar in my body. I always thought less than less about myself, and it’s going to take me a minute to shift that perspective.

When you’re on a healing/spiritual journey, you get a LOT of videos, articles, books on Carl Jung. Please Google him; he’s done far too much for me to write it all out here. His work is revolutionary and I won’t even begin to scratch the surface by trying to give you an abridged version. Anyway, when everything kind of fell apart inside of me, I was introduced, almost immediately, to his work on the “inner child”. It refers to the subconscious part of you, your younger self, who is still holding on to memories and behaviors from childhood. If you were wounded by some form of trauma or neglect and your younger self is still holding on to those things, it will affect your conscious life as an adult. And man, I fucking felt that. And so I listen to and read a lot of things in relation to this because I believe, 100%, that this is where a lot of my healing needs to happen.

What I listened to today was about the inner child and how it creates and shapes the relationships you make in your life. And how subconsciously you are attracting specific types of people into your life based on how that wounded inner child still feels. The video talked about different types of wounds and I actually stopped what I was doing to write down what was said about the abandonment wound: “Our psyche tends to seek the familiar, even when the familiar is painful. There’s a perverse comfort zone in repeating known patterns, even when they cause suffering because at least we know how to navigate this pain. The wounded inner child prefers known suffering to unknown happiness because suffering is predictable and controllable, while true happiness requires vulnerability and the possibility of loss.”

The reason why this seemed to really hit me hard today is because I wasn’t sad today and I didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s become such a norm for me to be crying about something, that when I wasn’t, it was weird. Bear with me here, I know this sounds fucking bananas. I’ve been saying for a while that it is me standing in my own way. I thought that it was just fear. But it’s so much more than that. I have subconsciously blocked myself, time and time again, mostly because I felt I wasn’t worth it. That my dreams and ideas would never amount to anything because there was no one pushing that little kid to amount to anything more than I currently am. So the same cycles keep repeating over and over again. And this supposed “comfort zone” is no longer comfortable. I have subconsciously refused to even give myself a chance until now.

As I’m writing this out, there is a lot flowing out of me. It’s far too much and far too personal to write about here, but I just figured something out. I was just trying to remember the first time I ever felt anxiety, and I fucking remembered. I was maybe 5 years old. I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, but I remember this moment like it just happened. I know what I was wearing, I remember what I did, I remember all of it, very vividly. And that is absolutely fucking crazy. I have never had a revelation like this before, so please excuse me if I sound a little out of my mind. But I remember that feeling from that day, and it’s the feeling I have felt my whole life any time anxiety was involved. And I see little me and I remember her and how she felt in that moment. And I want to hug her for as long as she will let me and tell her that she made a mistake, and that mistakes happen, and everything will be alright. That she is loved even though she took a little misstep.

I have done stints in therapy during different periods of my life, and I don’t remember ever talking about this moment. And I guess anything I did or allowed in therapy was always surface level. It seemed that every time I opened up to something more, the hour was up and I was left like the walking wounded having to go back to regular life with this giant, gaping hole in my chest. Subconsciously I guess I blocked myself from healing as well. I guess everything has been leading up to this moment in my life where I am finally saying “enough is enough”. I can’t keep carrying this shit around with me, it’s fucking heavy. And I’m fucking tired.

The craziest part of all of this is that I’m writing it out and I’m not crying. There’s a little lump in my throat but I’m mad. I am feeling anger. Not in a non-productive way though. I’m not going to beat myself up about this. I’m just mad that I’ve allowed this. That I am a fully grown adult and still feel like a child, constantly looking for the acceptance and approval of the adults around me. Over sharing and hoping that people will like and accept me. Approve of the decisions I make in my life. Not be mad at me. And then leave me if they don’t approve. That’s the thing. The abandonment wound is such an underlying thing, that I’m afraid if I’m not sorry for being me then people will leave. What the fuck?! Like, I feel like I always knew this, but now I can’t not know this…

My whole existence has always had this internal battle. I get preemptive anxiety over telling people things, afraid of what the reaction will be. This has been a lifelong battle and it needs to stop right here. I need to stop apologizing for being me. Most importantly, I need to be okay with being me. I said earlier that I felt weird feeling anything other than bad about myself. That changes today. It is going to take me a minute, but I’m done fighting and trying to prove that I am not a garbage human being. I’m not saying it in a conceited way. I just need to stop dragging myself into these dark places because I don’t know how to exist in any other place. Just saying that gives me the ick, but I need to start breaking that programming. It will get easier.

I am really pleased that we got to experience this breakthrough in real time. I have stopped myself so many times from seeing the bigger picture. From digging deeper to see the root of the problem. To quote Chandler Bing “can open… worms everywhere”… but they are my worms, and they’ve been jammed up in that can for far too long. I can’t keep not choosing happiness because it might be scary. I have never even allowed myself to be happy for too long because someone was always ready to rip it away from me. And that’s not fair, and it’s not okay. And I’m aware of it now, and it’s strange but it’s clear.

I can’t promise that tomorrow won’t be a battle, but this was a little push into the land of actual progress that I needed, very badly. I appreciate you sticking with me, I honestly didn’t know where this was going to go when I started writing. But going forward, not everything is going to be an all out battle. All of the tools that I’ve been walking around with will prove themselves useful once I start shifting this weird fucking narrative I’ve been playing in my head. Thanks, as always for reading. I’m always here if you need me…

black lines can turn to battlefields when they are drawn in pen, the stop signs like human apathy, can cause a fatal crash… like screaming in the air, the sound for all who care, the siren rings in vain, when lightning hits the ground, to all who stand around, the shock of ignorance… the feeling hard to tell, a word can break the spell…

Song name: BLACK LINES TO BATTLEFIELDS/ Artist: Acceptance/ Year: 2003

GRAVITY

something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long… no matter what I say or do, I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone…

I stumbled upon a cover of this song a few days ago. I don’t usually like covers of Sara Bareilles songs. And I think it’s because she sings her songs so beautifully that no cover has ever really done it for me. But this cover? Here’s the link: Raymond Salgado – Gravity Cover I don’t know what happened. It must have scratched all of the right parts of my brain or something, but I was locked in. As soon as it was done, I restarted it. This went on for a while, I will not disclose for how long (LOL). Anyway, hearing someone else sing Gravity made me think about it in a different way than I normally do. I was always very linear when it came to my interpretation of it – this song was always a tragic love song in my mind. Of course there was one exception, and that was the So You Think You Can Dance Mia Michaels dance, where she made it about addiction which was fucking revolutionary. Watch it! Mia Michaels Choreography “Addiction” -Kayla and Kupono SYTYCD Anyway, it was so strange that this cover instinctively made me apply it to this soul journey that I’ve been on. And it felt like a desperate plea for release while also not wanting to let go or give up.

I haven’t felt right for the last month. The last week to ten days have been exceptionally heavy. I don’t want to sound dramatic, but I’m going to use the word unbearable. And I don’t know how to explain this to you so that you’ll fully understand. It just feels like a constant longing in my chest. A dull and quiet, constant ache. Like I’m homesick. It gnaws at me constantly. I haven’t slept more than five hours per night in the last two years, but this week I had not slept more than three. So, when I say it’s constant, I mean it. There is no rest. There is no peace. I am beyond exhausted and so incredibly sad. I am crying like I miss home, but I am home…

set me free, leave me be, I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity…

I can’t tell you how many times this week I’ve begged, between sobs, to be released from this. These giant, heartbroken sobs pour out of me, seemingly from out of nowhere, and I beg God, Universe, Source, whatever you prefer to say, to give me respite from this. Even if it’s just long enough for me to get some restful sleep. One moment I am fine, and the next the aching and pulling in my chest gets too strong for me to handle, and I need to find somewhere to cry. There’s no stopping it. Sometimes it’s over in a few minutes, and sometimes I don’t have time for it to complete because I am trying to be a functional adult and have shit to do. So I pull myself together and do my best.

And I understand that this sounds strange if you’re seeing it from the outside. I’ve been told, too many times, that I need to see a shrink and get my shit together. And reactions like that remind me that not everyone in my life is a safe space. So, I put my mask back on and fake it until I make it. I am doing my fucking best. It’s not always so dark. The aching feeling described above is never ending, but when I am doing something that I enjoy, there is no time to fan that flame.

When I am alone, I’m here but I’m not. I’m lost in a spiral of thoughts. I pull out all of the tricks I know to get me out of it. Sometimes it works, sometimes I let myself get lost in it. Other times it’s just so incredibly heavy. The gravity of all of it pulled me down pretty far this week. And I allowed it. I did not have the energy to fight it. Clearly, it was happening for a reason. However, the last three days felt like absolute warfare. I realized why the panic was happening, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop it. I felt like I was falling down a rabbit hole. I have a really tight grasp on a lot of things right now. I know that I need to make changes, unfortunately I am at a point on this journey where the changes I need to make are pretty large, and I don’t know how to navigate it just yet. It’s 100% the case that I am standing in my own way, and it is 100% out of total terror.

There are a few things that happened since I started writing this post earlier in the week. And it’s important that I talk about those things so I can wrap this up in a pretty bow:

  • The grandma thing that has been heavily weighing my life down finally has a bit of resolution and I am finally getting some relief
  • There was a very big full moon that happened on Thursday – it was in Capricorn and it meant business. I chalked a lot of the heaviness in the days leading up to it directly to its arrival – no sleep, heavy emotions, etc.
  • There were a lot of cosmic shifts this week, calling for action to evaluate your life and make necessary changes. These shifts called for actual release of the things in your life that were no longer serving your highest good
  • The day after the full moon, I was let go from something that was, what I thought, a huge part of my identity. And I absolutely took it as “It’s not happening TO me, it’s happening FOR me” and that, my friends, is growth in my book

I will be writing more about that last bullet point above, but I’m not quite ready yet. It’s still incredibly fresh and I’m still processing it. However, as emotionally unstable as I felt this week, by the end of the week I had finally returned to my five hours of sleep and things felt lighter. Realizing that things happen the way they’re supposed to and not necessarily how I want them to was also something that gave me a little clarity. And I’m finally starting to shift perspective when it comes to certain things in my life. I still can’t fully let go, but my knuckles are no longer white while gripping them. It is taking a lot of self talk and care to make it through the dark moments that creep in, but everything will be alright. I am trying to shift 40+ years of conditioning and it’s going to take a minute.

Anyway, this was extremely long winded, but of course necessary. I appreciate it very much if you made it to this point. I can’t promise that every day the gravity of all of this won’t drag me down, but I promise I’m doing all I can to stay grounded. Thanks for reading, I’m always here if you need me…

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you’re everything I think I need here on the ground, but you’re neither friend nor foe though I can’t seem to let you go, the one thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down…

Song name: GRAVITY/ Artist: Sara Bareilles/ Year: 2007

LIGHT ON…

would you believe me now if I told you I got caught up in a wave? almost gave it away, would you hear me out if I told you I was terrified for days? thought I was gonna break… oh, I couldn’t stop it, tried to slow it all down, crying in the bathroom, had to figure it out, with everyone around me saying “You must be so happy now”…

I’m not going to lie to you. The last few days have been some of my worst. May 29th marked 2 years since this journey began. I tried not to give it any thought. I didn’t want to think about it. But I think subconsciously it was looming and out of nowhere I just broke in half. I keep trying and trying to keep my head above the water, but treading gets exhausting and sometimes my legs give out and I dip below and get caught up in the current. And it’s disheartening and discouraging, and I fucking hate it.

I’ve been walking around lately feeling extremely disconnected. I guess I’m in a bit of an unintentional hermit mode. I don’t mean to be like this, it just sort of happened. I’m trying to make sense of the last two years. And while I know things have changed, it really feels like the same loop every goddamn day. I’m still not sleeping. I wake up with a racing heart every single day. Terrified of what the day has in store for me. Why I live my life like this, I’ll never know. I have a million things that I can do to get myself out of this mindset, and I don’t fucking do any of them. I have zero drive to better myself. I’m fucking exhausted and I just want my mind to shut the fuck up for once.

I don’t know who this person is right now. I used to be empathetic, ready to people please and smile and nod. My empathy has turned to apathy. I am completely disinterested and drained. I see the life I want for myself, I know there are 8 million steps to get to it and I’m too tired to move. I have lost patience with life and with myself. I’m angry at the decisions I’ve made that have brought me to this point. I am my biggest hater and that’s a huge part of the problem.

In order to better your life, you actually have to like yourself. And I really don’t like myself at all. I’m disappointed at the sacrifices I made that left me brokenhearted and unfulfilled. I thought there would always be more time for me to do what I needed to do. And it just feels like there is this imaginary clock counting down and telling me that I’m running out of time. And each day passes so slow with the same shit over and over again and I just feel more and more defeated.

I know this sounds terrible. I don’t want you to misunderstand or think that I’m not grateful for my life. I understand that people would probably kill to have my life. But that doesn’t help. That adds yet another layer of guilt and shame to the ones that have been built over this lifetime. I can’t shake feeling like an awful person. I can’t see how I could possibly deserve good things in life. But at the same time, that makes no fucking sense to me. Why shouldn’t I believe that life can just keep getting better? Because for years and years I’ve heard the most destructive shit that I didn’t know was destructive. I thought it was what everyone thought. But I’m finding out that life doesn’t have to be like that at all, that you can dream and believe that it can only get better, and I think the anger and sadness stems from finding this information out in my 40’s. It is just such a heartbreaking feeling and I have definitely let it drag me down the last couple of days.

I have some things in the works that I hope will drag me out of this, but the hope is slim at this very moment. And I have faith that tomorrow will be better. That I’ll actually sleep tonight and wake up feeling a little bit better than I did today. I’m sad that I wrote a post last week and said that I haven’t sobbed every day in months, and literally that’s all I’ve done for the last couple of days. It’s disappointing.

I just haven’t been here and I need to get my head back above the water. I’m just so tired. I have a lot of things to fight for and I know that. I want that life that I see in my dreams and I just need to get out of my head and hit the ground and take the step that will lead me to the next step and so on. So I’m giving myself the rest of today to be a sad sack piece of shit. But tomorrow? That’s going to be day one on making it happen for myself. Nothing changes if nothing changes. And I need to stop being complacent. My comfort zone is no longer comfortable and it’s time to move this shit along. I’m still here and I need to do better.

Thanks for reading. I know you’re probably sick of reading the same shit, I am too. I look forward to tomorrow and taking even just a tiny step in a new direction.

oh, if you keep reachin’ out then I’ll keep comin’ back, and if you’re gone for good then I’m okay with that, and if you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on… and I am findin’ out there’s just no other way, that I’m still dancin’ at the end of the day, and if you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on, oh, leave the light on, oh, would you leave the light on?

Song name: LIGHT ON/ Artist: Maggie Rogers/ Year: 2019

PICCOLA ANIMA

piccola anima, la luce dei lampioni ti accompagna a casa, innamorata e sola, quell’uomo infame non ti ha mai capita, sai che a respirare non si fa fatica, è l’amore che ti tiene in vita… quello che voglio io da te, non sarà facile spiegare, non so nemmeno dove e perché hai perso le parole, ma se tu vai via, porti i miei occhi con te…

I want to start off by saying that it was only a matter of time before an Italian song made its way into a post. Your punk rock girl has an entire playlist of sad girl songs in another language. And they’re so much more beautiful this way. I suggest you listen to this one. You don’t need to know what it means, you’ll feel it. But if you’re curious, of course Google is free.

I am having a really bad day with anxiety. And I’m hoping that writing can at least help calm me down. I’ve been on this journey for a little while now and I’ve been trying to figure out ways to make this whole thing easier for myself. The problem is that I’m always operating at a very high level of anxiety, afraid to breathe easy. It always seems that the moment I give in and relax, breathe a sigh of relief at life, I manage to fuck something up and end up right back at the peak of anxiety. Dealing with an unreasonably low amount of self worth has been my biggest problem throughout my life. And I just can’t get to the point where it gets easier. There are days where I can sit there and confidently say that I am a good person, or wow I actually feel pretty today, or was that an entire day free of anxiety? But those days are short lived. The next day it seems that my anxiety got backed up while being on vacation the day before and hits me harder than it usually does.

Today was one of those days. Something happened yesterday morning and instead of letting it get me down, I felt empowered. I even wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget. I felt unstoppable. Today, I said something stupid to someone I care about, it upset them, and I’ve been spiraling ever since. It’s already been cleared up. I apologized and it was settled. But I could seriously kick myself and will likely not sleep tonight because of it. Things like this happen all the time. I feel shame and I feel small, and quite frankly I never want to speak again because I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. Am I too much? Am I enough? I just constantly feel like I’m never doing the right thing. If I say what I’m feeling, I’m too much. If I don’t say anything, I’m not doing enough. When I try to find somewhere in between, I act like an idiot and go completely overboard trying to prove that I’m not a piece of shit. It’s too much.

I understand that reading that might seem very dramatic. But in all of the work I’ve been doing, I am finding that it’s all been programmed within me my whole life. And I am doing my best to break up this programming, but setbacks like I had today do a lot of damage. And it will take me a few days to get back on track. The problem is that when I get like this, I don’t feel like I deserve good things. I punish myself and put myself in the corner, like I don’t deserve to be seen. The level of shame and embarrassment that I feel is out of this world. And it affects every single thing throughout the rest of the day. Until I lay in the dark, try to tell myself that I need to sleep so that I can start fresh in the morning, continue to spiral until my thoughts wear me out, and finally crash for a few hours out of sheer exhaustion.

This cannot continue. It cannot be that the thoughts win this battle. They’re just thoughts and I have the ability to stop them, so why don’t I? I was listening to a podcast the other day with Jay Shetty and Dr. Gabor Mate (pronounced MAH-TAY… I can’t find the little accent to put over the e) about finding your true self. It talked about the root cause of trauma and why you feel lost. It was over an hour long and I actually took notes. Dr. Mate said something that made my eyes pop. He said “why is it that we are so addicted to things staying the same, or things not changing? You find safety in the mind you created.” I am fully aware of the fact that I have this problem, I just don’t know what the fuck to do about it. I’ve talked about this here before; I am completely terrified of life. I don’t enjoy it. My days are exactly the same, full of routines and habits that I’m afraid to break. I fear that if I do something wrong, somehow everything will shift in a way that will scare me even more. Or even worse, the change will affect others and then I’ll be living with more shame and guilt. So even though my life may be completely mundane, based on my mindset, I am terrified of the alternative.

Here’s the thing… I’ve been going through this dark night of the soul for well over a year now. I was wearing rose colored glasses for a long time. They were full of scratches and filthy as hell, but rose colored nonetheless. And over a year ago they were ripped off of my face and thrown away and I’ve been fighting my way through this darkness every day since. Have things changed in the last year plus? Of course they have. But the reactions I’ve received to these changes have sometimes not been welcomed. With the rose colored glasses, I was complacent, on medication for anxiety, and seemingly sleeping through my life. I thought I was present. But I’ve been forced to pay attention to myself and I don’t know how to do it nicely. I am so angry at myself for so many reasons and I just can’t seem to forgive myself. So it’s just an endless loop of good day, bad day, bad day, bad day, bad day, good day, etc.

I was listening to a podcast yesterday, because my algorithm is full of self help shit, and this one had Michael B. Beckwith. And he was specifically speaking about dark night of the soul. I also took notes with this one because I completely understood what he was talking about. He said: “The new hasn’t emerged yet, but the old is dying. You feel cutoff, bereft, it’s nasty, but you have to walk through that door.” He elaborated further: “You’re on the spiritual path, there’s going to be parts of you that you cherish that are going to die because they are not you. You inherited them, you created them to survive in the world. But when they begin to die and the new hasn’t emerged just yet, it’s very dark.” After all of this, I can confirm, it’s extremely dark. And it’s lonely as hell. And yes, I write things out here. And I cry to the safe people in my life. But there is no way for me to put all of this into words that could make people understand. I just feel broken. And right now I am doing my best out in the world while I’m surrounded by all of these broken pieces that I don’t know what to do with.

I share here because it’s important that I do. I don’t know why, but it is. I’ve been depressed and I’ve been medicated, that won’t help me right now. I have this aching feeling in my chest that has been haunting me for over a year that I never had or felt before. And it’s easy for you to read this and diagnose me with whatever mental illness you prefer. But I’ve already done all of that and I will tell you, don’t bother. This shit is deep in my soul. And yes, I probably have OCD, the intrusive spiral thoughts are a dead giveaway. But I’m afraid if I medicate for that, I will not get to the place I need to get to. I was numb and blind for a long time, so yea, I have some big fucking feelings that I’m trying to manage after years of shoving them down into my little body. I am giving myself a moment.

I know this is a lot. I know. I am self aware to a fault. Whatever thoughts people have on me, I’ve already thought them. Yesterday, my soul felt empowered. I am always underestimated, but that’s on me. I am constantly showing people how I want to be treated, and it’s not great. So I need to do better in that aspect. I need to remember what it felt like to not give a shit yesterday. I am a good person. I have good intentions that sometimes get side tracked. I need to believe in myself and remember that I’m human and I make mistakes. I need to stop punishing myself for mistakes I make. I need to remind myself that I am strong, even when I feel weak. And I need to remember that it’s dark right now, but it won’t be like this forever. I live for those moments of light and there will be more. I just need to get out of my own way.

There is a lost little soul inside of me that is begging me to take the steps and do the things that will lead me to where I need to go. If I can get passed the terror of change, I know that I will make it through. I’ll make it through regardless, but I would like to be happy when all is said and done. I have the next few days off from both jobs and I’m not making any promises to myself, because that just gives me an opportunity to break them and disappoint myself. But I have a few things on my list that will get done that I know will help me feel a little lighter. And for now, that will have to be enough.

Wishing you a happy thanksgiving. I am grateful to be here with all of you. As always, thank you for reading.

camminare fa passare ogni tristezza, ti va di passeggiare insieme? meriti del mondo ogni sua bellezza, dicono che non c’è niente di più fragile di una promessa, ed io non te ne farò nemmeno una… quello che voglio io da te, non lo so spiegare, ma se tu vai via, porti i miei sogni con te… piccola anima, tu non sei per niente piccola…

Song name: PICCOLA ANIMA/ Artist: Ermal Meta/ Year: 2017

SATELLITE CALL

this one’s for the lonely child, brokenhearted, running wild, this was written for the one to blame, one who believe they are the cause of chaos and everything, you may find yourself in the dead of night, lost somewhere up in the great big beautiful sky, you were all just perfect little satellites, spinning round and round this broken earthly life, this is so you’ll know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground, tonight you’re not alone at all, this is me sending out my satellite call…

I slept like shit last night. I woke up a few times, fell back asleep, finally on the last time I got out of bed to come and sit on the couch. I was fine with it. I knew I would nap again around the 6:00 hour. It’s the same bullshit every day. The only difference between weekdays and weekends is that my nap starts a little later and I can sleep more than 3o minutes on the couch. I am beyond exhausted. When I get more than 4 hours sleep, it’s exciting. And that’s also bullshit because why am I praising the bare fucking minimum? I should be able to fucking sleep.

My day started normally. I was fine. I did a lot yesterday and knew that I would be glued to the couch for the day. But I’m hormonal and bitchy and I don’t know why I was caught off guard when my mood changed this afternoon. I had to run to the store to get something. A song shuffled while I was in the car for, I don’t know, 10 minutes? And I pulled over a block away from home so that I could sob my eyes out. Sobbing. I’m fine, I promise. I am just never at rest. Never at peace. Always feeling like a failure. Always feeling like I’m doing something wrong. Always feeling like a bad person. And sometimes a song shuffles and I’m in tears. Because there are too many things swirling in my brain pointing me in that direction and I just have to give in.

And crying once a week doesn’t phase me anymore. I used to cry like this DAILY, so we are moving fucking mountains over here. But it’s like this purge of all the shit that I can’t control making it’s way out of my body and I have to let it. Usually I feel better after and I move on with my day. Today was not one of those days. Because of the hormones, I am sad girl, and I know that tomorrow will be better.

Why am I writing it here, again? Because I fucking need to, that’s why. I don’t know. I felt the need to write about all of this. Whatever the reason, it’s here. And I know it’s just one moment in my life and it will pass. But I get scared, because what if it won’t? I can’t think like that, I know, but this is where sad girl is today in this moment. I do have another post currently on the back burner that will be better. It’s something I’ve been working on for a few weeks. And it’s a testament to the internal progress that I’ve been making. But today, I felt the need to post this shit again because I feel like I took more steps back. We are all broken in the most beautiful and unique ways. And some of us are able to deal with it in healthy ways. And some of us just cry a lot. Maybe you’re not okay today and needed to read this? If that’s the case, I hope you know you’re not alone.

So this is my satellite call to you, to me, to all of us: You are not a bad person. Your mind is playing tricks on you. You are a human being. You matter. Even when you feel worthless, you’re not. Even when you feel like you don’t deserve love, you do. Some of the best days of your life haven’t happened yet, so don’t let the bad moments make you feel like you don’t deserve them, because you do. And if there are people in your life telling you those things and making you feel like that, please know that they are talking about themselves, not you. Life is a wild ride. Things happen without explanation and we are just supposed to figure them out without any guidebook or road map. And sometimes we make wrong turns but I have to believe that those were meant to take you to the right places eventually. Bad moments don’t equal a bad life.

And that’s all I wanted to say to you today. Because I needed to hear it too. And we all really need to start believing it…

this is so you’ll know the sound, someone who loves you from the ground, tonight you’re not alone at all, this is me sending out my satellite call…

Song name: SATELLITE CALL/ Artist: Sara Bareilles/ Year: 2013

LANDSLIDE

took my love, took it down, climbed a mountain and I turned around, and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills ’til the landslide brought me down… mirror in the sky, what is love? can the child within my heart rise above? can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides? can I handle the seasons of my life?

I love the internet. But I also hate the internet. Weird way to start, I know. I love it for obvious reasons. The world is at my fingertips. Anything I want to know, I can know it in seconds. I hate it for the same reasons. People like me, very anxious people, shouldn’t have access to this many things. These things both help and harm on a daily basis. I stopped searching ailments a long time ago. Setting that boundary for myself has been wonderful. Most of the time I use the internet for good. Looking up shit that generally interests me and feeling like I learned something.

Sometimes though, I search for things that feed my sadness. And I do that because I need to validate that I’m not the only one feeling like this. Most of the time I’m satisfied. The problem is that once you search for these things, they keep showing up because you searched for them once. So places like YouTube and TikTok are like “oh you like stuff like that? Here’s all of it!” And sometimes there’s a good enough mix in my algorithm that I can scroll for a few minutes, laugh a little and then when something serious comes up I can just close the app if I don’t feel like crying.

The other day something popped up on TikTok that really spoke to me. I’m not sure if it was good or bad yet. Still processing. Let’s say it was good? Because I never realized that I felt these things, and to attach a reason to that realization was a little bonus. And it kind of blew my mind because I LOVE finding reasons for why I am the way I am! It was a TikTok that had a photo slides that you swipe to see. And here’s what some of the slides said:

  • When someone jokes about abandonment issues but they don’t need constant reassurance.
  • When someone jokes about abandonment issues but they don’t get scared when they get left on delivered for over 10 minutes.
  • When someone jokes about abandonment issues but their chest doesn’t hurt badly when their partner’s mood is off.

Um excuse me? I have forever referred to myself as the girl with abandonment issues, but I didn’t realize stupid shit like this was part of it OR that I even felt like this on a regular basis. I was looking at more big picture stuff. Again, this is right in front of my face and I didn’t even see it. The terror I feel when these things happen is out of control. And of course over the years it has gotten progressively worse. Of course (eye roll). But I guess seeing it written out right in front of my face really made me say WOW. And then I proceed to go down a rabbit hole, because now I’m genuinely intrigued, and find that I have an insecure or anxious attachment style. Again, I’m sure it’s obvious to anyone reading, but who would want to admit that about themselves?

The last few weeks I’ve been really blah. Here but not really here. I feel like I’m in survival mode. I’m crawling in my skin feeling very much like a failure. Worried that I’m not doing enough. Anxious that if I’m not doing enough that I will ruin everything. That everyone will be disappointed in me. That everyone will be mad at me. Worried about money. Worried about being stuck in this loop forever. Just always fucking worried. And these are big things I need to work on, but the truth is that I don’t sit securely in anything. I am always worried that the people I love will leave. And it’s not for no reason. I am a giant open wound. And I probably shouldn’t have started this if I didn’t really want to get too into it, but the father situation in my life is the wound that won’t heal. My father is lingering in the shadows of my life even though we don’t speak. And my stepfather, who loved me unconditionally, died 23 years ago and I can’t stop being big fucking mad about that.

I’m tired of the rug being pulled out from under me when it comes to dads in my life. It took me a long time to let my stepfather in because of all of the shit that I had gone through with my dad. I was a teenager. I was angsty. I was not interested in getting close to someone who would ultimately leave, because as far as I knew, that’s what would happen anyway. And it was almost like I made my stepfather prove to me that he would stick around before I let him in. I didn’t make it easy. Had I known that our time together wasn’t infinite, I might not have been such a piece of shit about everything in the beginning. But we have no way of knowing that. Our trauma has no way of knowing that. And so we put up walls to protect ourselves only to find out that we missed out on more time with someone who was actually worth it.

I thought that me and my dad had a chance. When I got married almost five years ago, I really thought him and I would be able to maybe start a proper relationship and forget all the bullshit from the past. I really put a lot of time and effort into trying to build our relationship properly. But I was stupid for believing that anything would change. My wedding album sits in the dusty box on my shelf because I can’t bring myself to look at it. The fucking hoops I jumped through to try to be the good daughter, and it was all for nothing. When I look in the mirror I see his face, and I’m not okay with it. There was never anything that I could do to make him love me the way I needed to be loved by my dad. And I know that now. It took a long time for that to register, but it finally did. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s ironic that I used this song today. We danced to it at my wedding and I have not been able to listen to it since. NOTE: I started writing this post a few days ago. I was running a quick errand yesterday and on my way home this song shuffled. Tears poured down my face. God damn you shuffle button. God damn you.

No one is really ours to keep. I understand that. The problem with an insecure or anxious attachment style is that somewhere in the gray matter, the lines get crossed. Of course no one really belongs to anyone and nothing lasts forever. But I hold on to people so tightly because I’m so scared of losing them. And on the opposite side of that, I push people away to protect myself so that if they leave, I’ll somehow be prepared? I know right? Make it make sense. But important people in my life left, whether it was voluntarily or involuntarily, and it really fucked me up. It was at stages of my life when I needed them most and it’s like I am frozen in those times, never able to move forward. Still holding on for dear life to a time that no longer exists. And that’s a really big fucking piece of this puzzle.

I am trying so hard to be someone that doesn’t care. To be someone who lets things flow. To be someone that doesn’t let things bother me. And I’m picking myself apart trying to figure out what still fits and what doesn’t. And some days I’m strong and feel like I can do anything. And other days I feel absolutely hopeless, like I’ll never move through this point in my life. I need to breathe. I need to be kind to myself. I need to remind myself that I am this way because things happened, but it’s up to me to change it. I don’t want you to read this and think I’m blaming anyone because I’m not. This is my responsibility to fix and I will fix it. It’s just taking me much longer than I would have liked. The living in survival mode shit has to stop.

So yea, to circle back to the beginning, my relationship with the internet is a love/hate thing. I still don’t know if it’s actually useful for someone like me to have this much access, but I can’t imagine going through all of this and not be able to calm the crazy when I’m in the throes of it. Anyway, sorry if it got heavy, sometimes we need to put the heavy things down somewhere and this is my somewhere.

As always, thanks for reading and I’m always here if you need me.

well, I’ve been afraid of changin’ ’cause I’ve built my life around you, but time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too…

Song name: LANDSLIDE/ Artist: Fleetwood Mac/ Year: 1975

BREAK THE CYCLE

circles and cycles and seasons, for everything there’s always reason, but it’s never good, never turns out as it should… no one ever held you, no single moment of truth, but if you were mine, I would’ve looked into those eyes and said tell me the words you long to hear and I’ll sing them loud and clear, let me heal the wounds you’ve held on to for all these years…

This healing journey officially started a year ago. But I believe it was brewing for a long, long time. Both sides of my family have their own shit. And I’ve always been knee deep in one side. Dipped my toe into the other side and that’s to be continued. But the side I’m knee deep in, well that side never manages to not catch me off guard despite being knee deep. If that makes any sense.

Anyway, today I had another profound moment. It wasn’t bad at all, it just took me by surprise. I learned so much in such a short amount of time with my grandmother and I really wanted to write about it. So I hope you’ll have some patience with me as I try to put this on paper.

Most times when visiting with grandma, she doesn’t talk much. She wants to hear about what’s going on in your life, and so she will ask little questions here and there to keep the conversation going. Today was different. We talked about mundane things at first and then somehow took a turn into Unresolved Trauma Land. I don’t even remember what triggered the direction change, but she expressed to me that she worried if she made the right decisions in her life. Particularly the decisions regarding her husband. He was mentally ill at a time where mental illness was not known or accepted, and his life was really difficult. Which, in turn, made life difficult for the people in his life. And without going into detail because I wasn’t there and I don’t actually know, she still questions if she did right by her family. More than 50 years after it all went down. Guys, I literally just wrote an entire post about not being able to trust my decisions only to find out a few days later that my 101 year old grandmother does the same fucking thing.

That’s a weird thing to find out. Especially since I’ve been struggling so much with literally everything lately. So when she brought up the subject, I just tried to support her in the best ways that I know how. She told me that sometimes when she thinks about those things, her heart feels heavy. So I told her that no matter what has happened in life, she has to have faith that she did the right thing. That we are all here because of the decisions that she’s made and we are all okay (even if we’re not totally okay sometimes, she doesn’t need to know that).

Whenever she talks about my grandfather, I try to pay attention. There are so many things that weren’t understood in the 1960’s and 70’s that have come such an incredibly long way. Things that actually would have been extremely beneficial to my grandfather and would have changed the history of my family that brought me to this place. But here we are. And so every time she talks about him, I try to explain to her that he couldn’t help it. That he didn’t choose to be the way he was and that medicine and therapy just weren’t available to him at that time. And she seems to understand, I can tell by the bit of relief I see on her face when we discuss stuff like this. There was nothing anyone could do for him. You can’t imagine what this feels like. It’s like a blessing and a curse to be able to give her some solace, but it’s so sad to hear what she went through.

And so all of this makes me think nonstop about why I am the way I am. This whole time that I’ve been trying to heal myself, all I keep hearing is that I’m the one to break those cycles. And I never understood why the fuck it would be me. I’ve said it before that whatever this fucked up legacy is, it will die with me. I don’t have children to pass this along to. BUT, what if it means that I’m here to help my grandmother heal all the trauma that no one helped her with? She seemed so distraught today, and I told her that sometimes we carry really heavy stuff around that we don’t need to be carrying anymore. And maybe it’s time to put it down? And she looked at me and smiled.

So when I left her today I told her that I am always here to talk with her. That I am a safe place whenever she feels like what she is carrying is too heavy and we can talk it out and put it down. And even though I was talking to her, I was talking to me too. And that was really cathartic for both of us I think. I’m still processing all of it. When I said goodbye to her today, she was smiling and seemed lighter and that was a good thing. We tied our conversation up with a bow so I didn’t leave her like a completely open wound, which I for sure would have lost sleep over tonight.

I have been close with my grandmother my whole life, but like most of my family, we got really good at shoving all the heavy stuff way down into our guts. And I think that after the life that she has lived, she deserves to have an outlet to let it out when she needs to. She has never expressed anything like this and I am really glad that I can give her the safe space that she needs. She wasn’t my mother and I don’t harbor any resentment towards her like her children do. And I wasn’t alive when these things happened, I didn’t live through them, so technically I’m an outsider. I don’t have my own version of the story to “yea, but” her about it.

It was proven to me today that there’s a possibility that if I don’t start letting go of the shit that weighs me down, that I could end up being a thousand years old and still living with regrets about things that I can’t change. And that was a little jarring if I’m being honest. To know that the trauma eats away at her made me really sad. I am happy that she opened up about it. And I hope that she will continue to talk things out with me. If I can make the last years of her life, no matter how many more we get with her, any easier then I’m happy to do it.

I left our visit today with a heavy heart, but was not hopeless which was a nice change from the usual bullshit. Because helping her helped me without even realizing it until I got in my car. I had a lump in my throat and let myself have a quick cry about it. It’s another blessing and curse to be able to see what your future looks like if you don’t make the necessary changes. My grandmother is one of the strongest women I know. And I’ve made it this far because of her. But knowing what I know, I won’t make it to her age at the rate I’m going. So for the sake of both of us, I have to start letting stuff go. I can’t sustain at the rate I’m going. I need to start rewriting this story and break the cycles. I see now why it’s important.

So I’m going to try my best to take this lesson I learned today and move forward. And if I have to take baby steps, then so be it. Trying to run before I can walk has proven to be unsuccessful. So I’m going to slow down and assess and just tell myself that it’s better late than never. I didn’t expect this today, but I’m taking it seriously, maybe for the first time ever.

As always, thanks for reading. I am always here if you need me…

break the cycle, break the chains, love is louder than all your pain…

Song name: BREAK THE CYCLE/ Artist: you+me/ Year: 2014

TOLD YOU SO

I know you like when I admit that I was wrong and you were right, at least I try to keep my cool when I’m thrown into a fire, and they go “I hate to say I told you so”, but they love to say they told me so…

I have been spending a lot of time trying to figure out what makes me tick. I’m finding out that a lot of the things that I feel are caused by repressed anger. And it’s not a great feeling. Depression and anxiety stem from anger that’s buried. Years and years of burying deep into my guts. If I had known that 100 years later I would be in this position, I would have just let it all out while it was happening. The thing is that no amount of therapy or talking it out will change anything that I’m going through right now. Those things won’t resolve years of damage that I’ve done to myself. For some ridiculous reason, I am an emotional hoarder and have chosen to let all of this stuff stick around and eat me alive. I haven’t given up hope on myself, it’s just that I’m tired and this all feels so stupid.

I never realized how angry I was until I started this healing journey. It never occurred to me that the feelings were related to anger. When I think about all of the times that I rage cried and explained to people “I’m not sad, I’m crying because I’m frustrated!” it seems that the writing was right there on the wall. I just chose to ignore it and blame something that seemed more logical. Of course I cry when things legitimately make me sad. But the crying I do when I’m angry is very different. It’s almost childlike. And when I do the mental inventory of all the times that I have big cried in my life, the majority of those times was because I was big fucking mad.

Lately I have been feeling like a walking trigger. Everything is bothering me. Because for so long I have been in this survival mode of making sure everyone else is okay. Making sure that I did what everyone else needed me to do for them while ignoring my own needs and never asking for help. And now that I’ve admitted to people that maybe I’m not alright all the time, they help me and I don’t want it. At least not in that way. I guess I spent my life, unconsciously, taking care of everything just so people would love me in the way that I really needed. Except that’s not how anything should work. And now I’m here, in this very stupid place, and it’s like mentally I’ve reverted back to a child like state where I just want to throw temper tantrums all day. Just like when I was a child and no one cared to listen, I’m still fucking here. And it’s just not okay.

Very recently I came to a huge realization. There has always been this nagging feeling of dread when it comes to taking care of anything involving money. It started off small and has just grown into this absolute monster that has completely consumed me. I am now at the point where it is crippling and making it more and more difficult to function. Anyway, last week something very basic happened, but it brought me to this revelation and I want to talk about it.

My grandmother is 101 years old. I have been taking care of her finances since her 85th birthday. As if handling my own financial problems wasn’t enough, I went and added another person into the mix. It’s my grandmother and want to do everything I can to make sure that she is taken care of, and what’s better than a hyper-vigilant anxiety ridden granddaughter when it comes to finances, right?! Anyway, she has been paying into a very small life insurance policy for the last 15 years and I am the beneficiary of it. Last week, she received the payout for it. It made perfect sense to me… after all of these years of quarterly payments, it’s paid off. They sent her the check, boom, we’re done. So, of course, I tell my mom about it, in passing, just saying I was going to deposit it into her account. My mother asks if it’s a real check. Why would they pay it out? You should call them, what if it’s a mistake? Don’t deposit anything without calling them first. Wait, what?!

On paper, there was no reason at all for me to question any of this. It said on the check stub exactly what it was for. The policy wasn’t some absurd amount that was going to send my grandmother into another tax bracket. It was tiny and she finished making payments on it because she is 100 and fucking 1 years old. So, like a CHOOCH I called them, because I was instantly filled with dread that somehow if I deposited this check without calling the company, that I would find out later that I was wrong, the check was fake and my grandmother was doomed. Fucking why?! I will tell you why. Because my whole life, I have been told to question every single thing when it comes to my decisions. That I am not a trustworthy person, even though I have been handling everything.

This is years of destroying any chance I ever had at believing that I can do anything without outside validation. I can’t be trusted to make big decisions because I don’t know any better, even after all of these years of being a fully functional adult. And the best part is… I have fucking allowed this. Without even knowing it, I have become this robot who seeks out validation for every decision that needs to be made. This stupid check arriving in the mail and the conversation that followed was enough to open my eyes to all of this.

I wasn’t this bad 5 years ago. I guess I’ve just been worn down into submission out of sheer exhaustion. Now that I’m thinking about it, there was a time where I did stand up for myself, but I picked my battles wisely. Standing on my laurels when it came to hills I would die on, and then allowing others to dictate my direction when it was a decision that I wasn’t 100% on anyway. Or if it was something I didn’t really want to do, I could easily shift blame to someone else not agreeing with it and that’s why I ultimately didn’t do it. Nice little system I had going there for a while.

Except this isn’t working anymore. I have zero faith in anything. I have become a shell of who I was, which wasn’t a whole lot to begin with. And now it seems I’m even in debt when it comes to my own self worth. Things are spiraling out of fucking control. And I’m glad that I am aware of it now. It’s just that I can’t let go of the fear and just trust myself. And it’s causing a LOT of internal problems for me. And it’s part of the reason I am in this mind frame now. I don’t trust anything that comes from me. I can’t make decisions about my own life without having a panic attack. That needs to change and I am working on it. This is a huge piece of the puzzle in this healing journey. Because I question every single thing that I do, with zero confidence to back it, asking for everyone’s approval before I do anything, and that is fucking bat-shit crazy.

It’s still really difficult for me to stand by my decisions. I hate giving people opportunities to tell me that they told me so. Because I feel like I have a lot of people in my life that are just waiting to smile at my errs in judgement. And that makes me really fucking sad. It’s not everyone, but it’s important people. And this is just another realization that I’ve stumbled upon that makes me so fucking sad. Because I really want to believe that I have people in my corner, but the ones that share my DNA seem to smirk when I do it wrong. It feels like people are waiting for me to fail so they can scoop me up when I do and show me that I really was never capable. What. The. Fuck.

This is why I have lived with this underlying victim mentality. And it has hindered my growth. It has set me back in so many aspects of my life. Because we all just want to be fucking saved, even if the feeling is unconscious. We just want people to know what we’re thinking without us having to say it or ask for it. The truth is that no one is going to save you. I’m not saying that hopelessly, I’m stating a fact. You have to be able to save yourself. You have to be able to write your story and have faith in yourself, even when you’re wrong. And I need to keep reminding myself of that. This is MY life. And I don’t know exactly where I lost control, but it’s time to take it back. I have to learn to be okay with the commentary that will come. And I have to be able to tell myself that whatever I was wrong about was a lesson and grow from it.

The anger and the sadness that have been consuming my life lately are starting to subside. Things are shifting and I am learning to let go of the feelings and memories that cause me pain. I have to stop associating current situations with the memories that I am harboring that caused similar reactions. When I see it happening, I now have the power to change the reaction. I can’t continue to hold on to resentment from things in my past. And I have to be able to turn those situations around now that I’m aware. Controlling what I can and letting go of what I can’t. It’s an insane process and I guess I better start showing up for it.

There will always be people ready to proudly tell you “I told you so” but that’s a them problem, not a you problem. There’s something a little bit wrong with finding joy in someone else’s mistakes. Again, that’s on them. So this is here now for me to continuously refer back to when I need it. And it’s here for you too in case you need a reminder. Everything will be alright. I need to be kind with myself and understand that life is a balance. Things aren’t happening to me, they’re happening for me.

I know it was another all over the place post, but it’s important to write it out here. It is important that I keep telling myself that my destiny is not to be an angry and miserable person. That all of this is happening now so that I can become the person I truly want to be. And most importantly, I don’t need any one else’s input when it comes to the life that I want to live, so it’s up to me to stop actively seeking it out in order to move forward.

As always, thanks for reading and here if you need me 🙂

throw me into the fire, throw me in, pull me out again, “I hate to say I told you so” but they love to say they told me so…

Song name: TOLD YOU SO/ Artist: Paramore/ Year: 2017

OCEAN AVENUE

there’s a piece of you that’s here with me, it’s everywhere I go it’s everything I see, when I sleep I dream and it gets me by, I can make believe that you’re here tonight, that you’re here tonight…

It’s been a while since I’ve written. I don’t know what to write anymore. There’s a recent glimmer of light that is creeping in, and it feels like things are shifting, but I still feel a little stuck. I keep trying to use all of the tools and do all of the things that will help me, but then the rug gets pulled out from under me and I fall back a few steps. It’s incredibly sad and frustrating. It’s impossible to go, even, one day sometimes without having something sneak into my thoughts and I’m in tears. It’s really fucking weird. It’s the strangest feeling I’ve ever felt. It’s like this insane emptiness in my heart that hits me from out of nowhere and takes my breath away. No matter how often it happens, it always catches me off guard.

I keep hearing that thoughts manifest. I have some really great thoughts. But there are days where I don’t have many. Days like that are terrible actually. And I get terrified that the terrible thoughts will manifest. And I have a panic attack and lose my shit. It feels like it will be impossible to get clarity and peace at this rate. I am constantly worried that if I get too happy, or even stop being misery girl, for a minute longer than I should, the other shoe will drop and I’ll crumble again. What kind of fucking life is this?!

SIDE NOTE: I hope you don’t read these posts and think that I am not aware of the mental health issues that I’m writing on these pages. I am aware. I am just trying a different approach to pinpoint what is actually going on with me. I have written here before, and I will write it here again, I don’t need anyone’s judgement. If you see someone is going through a hard time, it won’t kill you to be gentle. I have been told recently that I should “find a therapist” and that I look terrible, I’ve lost weight and “you were already skinny, you can’t afford to lose more weight” and that I look like I’m “on the verge of a nervous breakdown”. Please don’t do that to people. Your tough love isn’t wanted or needed in this instance. As a person who has been on the receiving end of those comments, it ruins the whole fucking day and just sends the person into a shame spiral. So just don’t. The only positive thing to come out of your unnecessary commentary, is that the person now knows that you are not a safe space, and they can protect themselves from the nonsense going forward.

So I’m going to keep doing the inner work because that seems manageable for me. I can’t handle more than manageable right now, and I know that. About a week ago, I was looking through old videos on my phone and the saddest thing happened. I found some Instagram videos that I had posted last year around this time and I seemed so incredibly happy. And then I scrolled to a video of me, after everything felt like it fell apart inside of me, and there was no life in my eyes. No sparkle. I honestly didn’t think it was noticeable. I honestly thought I was doing my best to try to be that happy girl outwardly. And it was painfully clear to me that it was gone from one video to the next. Another eye opener…

Anyway, for a while now, it has felt like a piece of me was missing. It got me thinking about happiness and what that word/feeling actually means to me. What would it take for me to be happy? I never thought about it genuinely. I have no idea what that word means for me. In the grand scheme of things, my life was never really about making myself happy. And any time I did something that I thought would bring me happiness, I was told I was selfish. Or I was shamed for it. So I just stopped. I just started doing everything for everyone else and ignored my own needs. And now I’m here, and I guess it’s better late than never, but man what a mindfuck this is. So I know what I’ve been told should make me happy. In everyone else’s recipe for happiness, I have all the ingredients. But if I’ve learned anything at all this year, it’s that I’m not like everyone else and maybe it’s time to figure out a recipe of my own.

Please don’t get me wrong, I have moments that make me happy where I’m laughing and smiling for real and my heart feels so incredibly full. But to be content in life? I don’t know. Seems like I haven’t found that answer yet. I have so much, there’s no reason for me to be unhappy. You have food, running water and a roof over your head. You are loved and have more than most, what’s the problem? When I went back and really sat with myself and thought about this, I realized that I have heard, all of my life, that the people who love me just want me to be happy. But I just noticed that they want me to be their version of what they think happy should look like. When I don’t give people the reaction that they were expecting, automatically I am labeled as “no fun” or I’m told “there’s something wrong with you”. Even when I am giving a good reaction! It’s so incredibly disheartening. And now I know that in order for me to function around those people, I have to be completely over the top with my reactions, because it’s not safe for me to just be me.

This has been the most wonderfully heartbreaking year of my life. May 29th marks one year since I fell apart right before your very eyes. And I’ll be honest, as the date has been approaching, I have been increasingly anxious. Because I thought I would be further along by now. BUT, one year ago, I honestly didn’t think I would still be here to talk about it. And I know that makes us all uncomfortable, but it’s the truth. Every day was a struggle just to get through it. Every day was a struggle just to make it one more day. And yes, there are still some really painful moments, but I’m proud of myself for giving myself the time to process them and try to work through them instead of just falling apart.

My trip to Sicily really changed a lot of things for me. And I’m still processing all of it. I’ve been home for 2 months but my time there still replays in my head every day. Yes, I wish a different version of me had shown up for it, but it was an important part of me finding me. There’s still so much that I can’t even put into words. But I held myself back while I was there. I was paralyzed with fear because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to me that would ultimately disappoint everyone at home. And so I stayed scared when there was no reason to be. Every day I remind myself that I will go back. And every day I tell myself “I was there, and it was beautiful” because it really was. I see it when I close my eyes and I am holding on to all of it. As heartbroken as I am that I didn’t let myself be free, I learned so much about who I don’t want to be.

I appreciate the people in my life who have really been there, even when it was uncomfortable and confusing. I appreciate you sticking with me and being kind, patient and gentle with me, more than you will ever know. You have been my safe space when I needed it the most. Things are shifting in a good way, I promise. I am still trying to put all of the puzzle pieces in their places, sometimes the table gets flipped and I have to start over, but I’m doing it. There might be some missing pieces still, but I know I’ll find them. I am not the same person I was a year ago. And I’m getting to know her and she’s not that bad. She’s just different.

As always, thanks for coming along on this beautiful fucked up journey with me. Everything is fine, and even when it’s not, it will be…

P.S. I used this song today because the band released a new version of it. And it’s haunting but beautiful. And I highly recommend listening to it when you have a moment to yourself. The video is visually pleasing too. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrdOg6kI-tE

if I could find you now things would get better, we could leave this town and run forever, I know somewhere somehow we’ll be together, let your waves crash down on me and take me away…

Song name: OCEAN AVENUE/ Artist: Yellowcard/ Year: 2003

INTO THE UNKNOWN

you’re not a voice, you’re just a ringing in my ear, and if I heard you, which I don’t, I’m spoken for I fear, everyone I’ve ever loved is here within these walls, I’m sorry, secret siren, but I’m blocking out your calls, I’ve had my adventure, I don’t need something new, I’m afraid of what I’m risking if I follow you into the unknown…

In the last couple of weeks I have taken some pretty large steps. They felt tiny at the time, but now that I’m sitting here writing it out, they were actually pretty large in relation to who I am. The last 10 months have been an absolute trash fire in terms of my emotions. I have not been able to get a handle on anything. Every time I felt like I was taking a few steps forward, it seemed that not long after I was going tumbling down a mountain only to have to get up and start all over again. Healing is a bitch. And it wasn’t really something that I thought I was ready or asking for, but it seems I really didn’t have a choice.

When all of this started, it felt like my entire foundation had shattered into a million pieces. And if it was going to be my job to rebuild it from the ground up, I wanted to make sure that I did it correctly. So I started digging into the history of my family. If I was going to figure out who I was and break the toxic generational cycles, I felt like it was best to start at the beginning. And when I took that step, weird shit started to happen. I started feeling drawn to one relative in particular. And so I followed whatever leads I could to learn more about her. I kept hitting dead ends. I can’t explain it, but it felt like she was pulling at me to keep digging. And after months and months of dead ends, I decided the only solution that made sense to me was to book a trip to Sicily so that I could visit her town and maybe learn more than I could learn from my computer.

So here I am, writing this, home from Sicily, with no more information than I had before I left. But going to that town felt like something I had to do. It didn’t feel like I had any other choice, I can’t explain it. There was a specific church I wanted to make sure I saw. I’m fairly certain my great-grandmother was named after the patron saint of the town, Sant’Egidio. Her name is Egidia and so that’s the story I’ve written in my head. Anyway, I wasn’t leaving that town without seeing that church. I wandered around, unsure of everything, but when I turned a corner and saw the church I was overwhelmed with emotion and tears started pouring out of my eyes. I knew I was in the right place before I could read the signage.

I stood there for a few minutes and breathed it all in. Honestly, how the fuck was I in Sicily, standing in front of this church? I had done so much research on the town and that church in particular, to be standing in front of it was unbelievable. The gratitude I felt in that moment was overwhelming. Although I didn’t get any other information about Egidia during my visit, just being where she once was felt really fucking special.

I’m going to be honest with you. My time in Sicily was pretty intense. I thought that I would arrive and get settled and everything would go according to how I planned it. I found myself extremely lost in every sense of the word. My nervous system was completely shot. I thought I needed a reset in the form of calm and clarity, instead I got absolute fucking chaos. And that is okay. I learned a lot of things in those moments. If I have learned anything on this journey so far it’s that things never unfold the way that I expect them to. They unfold the way I need them to. And honestly, I have delusional expectations sometimes. I don’t know what the fuck I thought was going to happen there, but all of this that I’m currently sorting through was not it.

I am very aware of my anxiety. It’s like a Siamese twin that I can’t surgically remove. I’m familiar with it and I know how it works. The level of fear and anxiety I had been dealing with while I was there was something I hadn’t felt in at least 25 years. I felt like a lost child and I found out the hard way that I am terrible at self soothing. So that was a big eye opener for me. I never realized how much I rely on others to talk me off of ledges. That is something that I have been working on since I got home.

I had to make a lot of unexpected changes while I was there. Moving towns, hotels and changing flights was my M.O. The nights were very long and lonely. I found it very hard to sleep. I found it very hard to calm down. The amount of dread that I felt, fearing that if I made a wrong move that I would somehow make things worse. It was absolute fucking insanity. I mapped everything out prior because of my anxiety, and everything got turned completely upside down anyway.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, so I’m sorry if it seems that way in context. Being able to go there and take in every bit of beauty that is Sicily was an absolute blessing. Seeing Mount Etna was another really emotional moment for me. The fact that I was able to drive in Sicily also blew my mind. I can’t tell you how many videos I watched to get myself prepared. Driving was the thing I feared the most before I got there, and it ended up being one of the best parts of the trip. I saw almost the entire east coast of Sicily from Catania all the way to Milazzo. How fucking incredible is that?!

The only regret that is still lingering is that I didn’t see more. I am sad that I thought I had all of my demons under control only to find out that they were still lurking just below the surface ready to attack at the most inopportune time. I am angry that I allowed irrational thoughts and fears to take the wheel and drive this trip. Not only did I not have a long time there, but the time I had was not used wisely. The problem was not Sicily, the problem was me and that’s something I’m still kind of upset about.

It’s just the tiniest feeling of heartache that I’m left with. There was heartache to return home while I was there. A level of homesickness that I hadn’t anticipated or prepared myself for. And heartache now that I missed out on so much. Some people don’t even get the opportunity to leave their world, and there I was, in my hotel rooms in these beautiful towns, too afraid to move. It was just a beautiful disaster and I feel really silly about it now.

Again, I know it may not look like it, but I am so grateful that I got the opportunity to go, I just wish a different version of me would have shown up for it. Rather than harp on the regret, I am a goddamn professional at it at this point (eye roll), I want to talk about the positive takeaways. Anyone I’ve spoken to, whether it was during or after, has given me credit for taking a solo journey like this. And I’m going to jump on that train too. This was so completely unlike anything I’ve ever done and I’m going to give myself credit for it. I did the thing. And yea, maybe it didn’t all go as planned, BUT with every thing that made me uncomfortable, I was able to adjust and make necessary changes despite the discomfort. I drove over 200 kilometers, on major highways, through small towns, beat language barriers and stood in the places of my ancestors. That sounds so incredibly corny, but I can’t tell you how fucking proud I feel for doing all of that. It’s very rare that I’m proud of myself for anything, but this feels warranted.

To close out this post, I want to give you some advice. I don’t feel I have the right to be giving out tips and tricks for life most of the time, but these are things I feel confident about. 1. Do it scared. If something is out of your comfort zone, but it’s something that you’re serious about, fucking do it. 2. Don’t let anyone, no matter who they are, dissuade you from doing the thing you want to do because of their irrational fears. I almost didn’t take this trip because of outside chatter and my need to people please. I’m lucky that I have people in my life who wouldn’t allow me to give up. If you need someone like that in your life, I will be that person. Do. The. Fucking. Thing. Even if spite is driving you to prove the naysayers wrong, just go and get it done.

There are currently a lot of open wounds that are making their way through the healing process and I’m going to need a little more time to sort through what I actually need. Making myself a priority has been the most difficult for me and this trip really helped me realize a lot of things. I went to Sicily to find her and instead I found me. A version of me that I’m not pleased with, at the moment, but still. I am meant for more than all of this emotional turmoil, but the only way out is through. I don’t know when, but I will make my way back to Sicily. My work there is not done, but at least now I’m armed with a wealth of knowledge and experience, and that’s pretty fucking sweet.

As always, thanks for reading…

are you someone out there who’s a little bit like me, who knows deep down I’m not where I’m meant to be? every day’s a little harder as I feel my power grow, don’t you know there’s part of me that longs to go into the unknown? where are you going? don’t leave me alone, how do I follow you into the unknown?

Song name: INTO THE UNKNOWN/ Artist: Idina Menzel, AURORA (Frozen 2 Soundtrack)/ Year: 2019