Tag: spiritual 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

ORPHEUS (Part III)

don’t stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos, though I know it’s blinding there’s a way out, say out loud we will not give up on love now, no fear, don’t you turn like Orpheus, just stay here, hold me in the dark and when the day appears we’ll say we did not give up on love today…

I’m starting off in a different direction than I usually do. I want to talk about Orpheus, and what this song refers to when Sara says “no fear, don’t you turn like Orpheus”. I read ORPHEUS (Part II) and was disappointed to see that the post I wrote a year and a half ago is still my current situation. So, we are going to pivot today and see if I can talk myself into some clarity. Because I woke up feeling completely out of sorts and sad this morning, and it seems that there is nothing that will get me out of it at the moment, maybe this will help?

The story of Orpheus (my very abridged version)… In Greek mythology, it was said that he could charm anyone or anything with his music. He fell in love with Eurydice, they were married happily for a short time. The story changes a little bit, depending on what source your reading from. Regardless, all stories say she was bitten by a snake and died. Orpheus sang his grief so that everyone and everything knew about his sorrow. Eventually he decides to descend to the underworld to see Eurydice. His music moved Hades and his wife Persephone so much that Hades agreed to let Eurydice go back with Orpheus under one condition: He must walk in front of her out of the underworld and not look back until they returned to the living world. He agreed, because he thought himself to be a patient man. As they walked back, he couldn’t hear her footsteps and was afraid that he was fooled. When they were just a few feet from the exit, Orpheus lost his faith, turned around, and sent Eurydice back into the underworld forever. He tried to return to the underworld, but the story goes that you can only enter once while living. The story varies on how he died, but he sang songs of grief wishing for his own death and eventually was killed to be reunited with his wife. His lyre was cast into the sky as a constellation, and his head was saved by the Muses so that he could sing forever and enchant everyone with his music.

Why am I talking about this? It’s important that I talk about this. It’s a story about patience and trust. Both of which, I do not have. Since I wrote the above post last year, nothing has changed. Yea, okay, a few things changed, but nothing so important that I’ve seen a difference. I have no patience on this journey and I, most certainly, have no trust. I have not been able to surrender and have chosen to stay in a place of fear. Fear is familiar to me. Somehow it is safe. And when I read the story of Orpheus, I get it. I would have 100% turned around to make sure she was behind me.

I have days where I say I trust the process and I can see myself making it out of this mess. But do I really trust the process? Apparently not. And I know why I can’t. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to affect the people around me. I don’t want my decisions or needs to hurt anyone. I’m here because I completely abandoned myself and that needed to change. But on days like today, the spiral of thoughts is absolutely unbearable. I keep seeing flashes of the life I imagine and it just feels so far away. I don’t know what I need. I want someone to tell me everything will be okay and I want to believe them when they say it. But I don’t. I don’t trust any process. For some reason, I choose to spiral.

I am so fucking lost and I really don’t want to be. But it’s like every time I see a twinkle of hope, I don’t believe it. I’m afraid that it will get taken away from me. My whole life I have waited for the other shoe to drop. When something good happens, I can’t embrace it because I’m so afraid that something bad will follow. And so I don’t allow myself to believe that I can even make one of my dreams come true because something devastating will ultimately follow. And that is no way to live, but it’s literally the only way I’ve ever known. And unlearning that has been my biggest feat.

I am still so scared to deviate from the normal loop of things. And I become impatient when I make a few small changes and get diverted to something else, making the process more complicated, and I lose faith immediately. I don’t want to do any more fucking work. I am tired. I just want one fucking thing to be easy. But why would it be? I don’t trust in it. I haven’t proven that if I’m finally given the thing that I would even be able to accept or appreciate it. Because I’m always waiting for the bad thing to follow. And so maybe today I’ll try to fix that. Maybe today will be the day that I shift my mindset. I got the shit humbled out of me reading my previous Orpheus post. So much time has passed and yet, here I am, telling the same fucking story over and over again.

I have finally stopped crying, so I will take that as a win. I’m going to try and turn the day around despite wasting half of it in this state of mind. I hold all of the answers to my healing, and yet I still allow outside sources to affect the path of my life. I have spent so much time being this way that changing it seems impossible. I know it’s possible. I don’t want to give up. I just can’t seem to settle down when I have these moments. But I have to believe that there is more for me than this mental prison that I am choosing. This can’t be the end goal for me, so I need to really start believing. Really start trusting, not just saying that I trust.

That’s all I can muster up for today. Tomorrow will be better. Thanks, as always, for reading…

we did not give up on love today…

Song name: ORPHEUS/ Artist: Sara Bareilles / Year: 2019

HALLELUJAH…

faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya, she tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the hallelujah…

The last few days I’ve been processing a lot of stuff, and so I’m just here today to write it out. I don’t even really know how to explain all of this, but I’m going to do my best. The last post wasn’t a great one, and I will admit that things have been lighter since then. Nothing crazy, but lighter, and I’m grateful for that.

This song has been haunting me since two nights ago. I was at a dance thing and when I heard it, I was locked in. I got chills up my spine and immediately asked the teacher who used it who was singing it. When he said Shawn Mendes I was surprised as hell. I’m in my 40’s, I don’t listen to him. I have a few songs on my phone from years ago when the kids in my dance classes loved him and I promised I would play them during warm up. So to hear this incredibly haunting version of this song from someone who I literally judged as having zero depth, I was humbled to say the least.

That night, I was driving home, it was late, and I played this song on repeat. The moon was shining so brightly and it just felt like a whole experience that I didn’t expect. As I drove around looking for parking, which is a nightmare after 8 PM in my neighborhood, let alone when there’s construction on the surrounding blocks and it’s 11:30 PM, I just tried to really take in the quiet time alone.

Two days ago, I had a good day. I got some good news about something that has weighed heavily on me for the last year and a half. And because I got the information second-hand, I was still a little apprehensive about fully releasing it because I didn’t want to get disappointed when I actually saw the paperwork. It has caused me a lot of anxiety, and I really hoped that it was true and that I can finally move on with this and maybe get one extra hour of sleep with it off of my plate. I received the paperwork and still don’t fully understand it, but I never really did. It’s for my grandmother, and that’s really why it causes me as much anxiety as it does However, the paperwork didn’t look bad at all and so I’m taking that as a small win for now.

This little paperwork story ties in to something much bigger, so please bear with me. For the last two years my biggest issue has been releasing the need to control the outcome of things that I can’t control. My nervous system is completely shot. Years of people pleasing and taking on things that shouldn’t have been my responsibility have left me in a very vulnerable state. My anxiety has gotten progressively worse. With each tiny thing, it barrels through me like a freight train that I can’t stop. It has made me sick to my stomach with worry, I can’t eat, I haven’t slept soundly in years, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I would classify myself as “beyond empathetic”. I have managed to absorb the feelings and energy of everyone around me to the point where I no longer exist. And that’s why I’m here on this journey, and I see that very clearly now. I managed to tie my own identity to the needs and wants of others, so much so that I completely abandoned myself. But something is finally shifting…

I knew the full moon on June 11th was going to be important for me. I read and listen to a lot of spiritual stuff everyday, almost to the point of over consumption, but it would soothe my anxiety, even if just for a few minutes. Anyway, last week really messed me up. I really felt like life was taking me in a direction that I didn’t want to go in. And if I didn’t at least try to steer the ship, I was afraid I would never come out of this. My thoughts were at an all time low. In 6 days I maybe slept 24 hours. I was losing my fucking mind. So when I saw that this full moon was coming and it was a perfect time to reset, I finally told my anxious thoughts to shut the fuck up because I really needed this.

My time in the car, with this song playing, tears in my eyes, with the beautiful moon shining above me, something finally clicked. When I finally got home, I immediately wrote down everything I wanted to release, I went outside at midnight and burned it all. And I promised myself that I would do better. I know Rome wasn’t built in a day, but I can openly admit that I wasn’t doing a damn thing to help myself. I’m not going to beat myself up over it, I’m fucking exhausted, but I will at least start giving a shit about myself. It’s the least I could do.

Up until this point, nothing had changed. I didn’t feel like I was growing at all. That for the last two years, everything had been exactly the same. I was still triggered, still spiraling, still not caring about myself, still doing everything to cater to everyone else’s happiness, so yea, not a thing changed. And then an opportunity presented itself… Someone told me that she told someone else about how badly I was doing. She said it so nonchalant like it wouldn’t bother me. Let me break this down for you. My typical reaction to this would have been rage. Not only did you disrespect me by telling my story to someone who absolutely 1000% had no right to know, but you probably told your version of it which is incorrect. BUT, I realized very quickly that I never set a boundary on it. And so that was partially my fault. It wasn’t okay what she did. And instead of screaming and crying about it, I said to her nicely “I understand you think you were helping me, but I didn’t ask you for help. I would appreciate it if you could please never do that again.” And now the boundary was set. She called me back later and brought it up again. And again, I stifled the urge to scream, she insisted she was trying to help. And I told her “please understand that the only reason why I am not screaming at you right now is because I know it came from a place of love and concern. But I am asking you one more time to please never do that again.” And she gave me some insincere “SORRRYYY” and we hung up.

I got off the phone and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was raging mad, seeing red. I wanted to scream but didn’t want to scare my dog. And then I walked to the kitchen to get myself something to drink, and was hit with a moment of clarity. Amidst the rage, I thought about who I was dealing with. Someone I love who is also a child of trauma. And I thought for a few minutes about that. I am raging mad at someone who will never see my point of view because she physically can’t. She does not know any better. And I took a deep breath and I let it go. I forgave her for what she did, without a genuine apology, because I know better and she doesn’t. I set the boundary going forward, and that’s all I could do.

Last night I slept for six solid hours. That’s the longest consecutive amount of hours in one night in I don’t know how long. It was needed and I plan on trying it again tonight. I was triggered A LOT today. But in the midst of all the triggers, I also had a tiny bit of ammo to combat it. The last few days, with all the full moon talk, I kept telling myself that everything is going to work out the way it is supposed to. That I am strong and I can handle anything. And although it seems that nothing has changed, I have changed a lot. And I kept reminding myself of that. Most importantly, if I am going to surrender, I need to trust. That little grandma paperwork win the other day, the one that I couldn’t fully trust, that still had a death grip on me until the paperwork was physically in my hands. When it was finally dropped off at my house, I felt a bit of relief. I told myself to let it go, I will take care of the last bits of it tomorrow, have grandma sign it on Saturday and put it in the mail on Monday. I went to get coffee with my coworkers, and not two minutes after the order was placed, I got a strange text message. It had my grandmother’s home address and a case number. My heart dropped into my butt and I could feel the blood drain out of my face. I was with coworkers so I had to be cool but I internally spiraled so fast. I got back to the office and I was in a full panic attack.

After 10 minutes, I finally convinced myself that it couldn’t have been a scam text, not with such specific information, and told myself to bite the bullet and just call the number. I called. It wasn’t about my grandmother. It was about someone else in our family. I relayed the message to them and stepped out onto the balcony to breathe. I looked up to the sky and apologized for not trusting that only good will come out of this situation. I have heard so many times on this journey that when you’re on the verge of a breakthrough, when your ego knows that you’re finally taking control, you are hit with test after test after test to try to break you down. And normally this would have broken me. I don’t even know if I would have called the number. I would have just panicked and not slept for God knows how many nights over it. But I promised myself I would do better. I owe it to myself to do better. To fight for my life because it’s worth it.

I know this was an extremely long winded post, but the culmination of everything in the last few days actually has me seeing clearly for the first time in two years. My focus has shifted in a way that I never expected. I am not going to get overly excited about it. I have goals that I want to accomplish in the next few months and I will put my focus there. I have the tiniest spark of hope again and I’m not going to let it go. The last few days have shown me that my thoughts do not determine my next steps. And I know that I’ve probably said some version of those words hundreds of times in these posts, but I actually see it now. Everything that I want for my life going forward is within me and I will heal from all of this. I will accomplish what I want to accomplish because I see now that I am important. That I can set boundaries and my whole world doesn’t fall apart. And that no one is coming to save me, only I can do that.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope for more little victories going forward, but will not break apart if not everything is considered a win. This is life and there needs to be balance. And I see that it’s possible now, and I’m going to run with it. And if you haven’t heard this version of Hallelujah yet, my advice is to find a quiet place and listen to it…

well, maybe there’s a God above, that’s for me all I’ve ever learnt from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya, but it’s not a crime that you’re here tonight, it’s not some pilgrim who claims to have seen the light, it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah… hallelujah, hallelujah…

Song name: HALLELUJAH/ Artist: Shawn Mendes/ Year: 2024

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

Quei ricordi là…

ci sono momenti che non puoi scordare, come le chitarre prima di un concerto, tutte quelle notti perse a litigare e poi tutte le mattine nello stesso letto, e se c’è qualcosa da dimenticare, nonostante tutto, me lo tengo stretto, sì, ne vale la pena, Che pena, però… Io ti prometto che sarà bellissimo…

Hello, it’s been a while. There are countless, unfinished posts in the drafts folder of this site. It’s been a minute since I’ve sat down to write. Everything I wrote felt wrong. My mind was my worst enemy. I kept getting stuck in the same loop of bullshit and everything just felt wrong. I’m writing today because it felt like I should.

At the beginning of all of this, I was a mess. I’ve explained it here before, but I’ll say it again. Almost 2 years ago, it was like a “total destruction” button was pushed without my knowledge and I was left completely lost in a pile of rubble. Handling it with grace and composure was not an option. I did my best in front of people, but when I was alone, it was dark. I cried every day, multiple times a day, most of the time without reason. Not just little tears, big sobs that came from my guts. Looking back on it now, I am happy that I’m still here to talk about it. There were times where there was no light and I don’t know how I made it through, but I’m glad I did.

I am still working through a lot of things. I’m not quite put back together yet, stuck in this very in-between place of old me and new me, but I’m taking little steps when I can to try and figure out what parts of me need fixing. I’m still very confused and tired, but I don’t sob every day anymore, and so little victories and all that happy horseshit (shrugs).

I started writing this from my hotel room in Sicily. This visit was different. I remember writing my post about Sicily last year, I didn’t reread it, because I remember feeling heartbroken while writing it. But I’m writing now to say that it was wonderful in every way. The first night was difficult and I was afraid I was going to repeat the patterns of fear and anxiety from last year. I realized quickly that I’ve grown since then and I’m proud of myself.

I frantically checked the weather before I left home. Every day had rain and wind and storms. And I was so disappointed. Because there’s no way to plan a trip in advance and predict the weather. I was so afraid I would be stuck in an anxiety spiral in my room the whole time. I am happy to report that it was not the case! It had rained, but there was also so much sunshine. And as soon as I would hear the rain stop, I went outside.

The trip had been brewing, probably since I left last year. And it was really difficult for me to ask for another bit of time away by myself. Last year I went to Sicily to try to find out information that I could not seem to find. When I spoke with a genealogist and they told me that it would cost 1000 euro to inquire, I thought to myself, I could just go and see what I could do myself. Of course it felt like an epic fail. But a lot of things have transpired in the last year and a bunch of pieces that I was searching for managed to make their way to me.

It was so strange. My great-grandmother who has been the guiding force on my journey, was such a tough nut for me to crack last year. And I think it’s because I was trying too hard. Every where I looked, her birthday was the missing piece. I kept hitting road blocks. Finally, I asked a cousin if she had any information from her mother, I really hate to bother people, but she found a copy of the death certificate which had the date of birth on it. Now here’s where shit gets weird…

Little something worth mentioning. For the last year and half I have had the Linguaglossa town page bookmarked on my Google homepage. I check it at least once a month, I don’t know why but I do. Anyway, I know this damn site inside and out at this point. Not long after I got her date of birth, it was monthly website check in time. I was clicking around when a search box popped up on my screen asking me if I was looking for someone. That was strange, it never happened before… So I put in her name and date of birth, stated that I would love baptismal records or something to prove her existence in that town. And I sent it and laughed. I never expected to hear from them again OR figured I would receive mail asking me to pay a lot of money for it. I’ve been here before, thank you. By the time I got to work the next morning, there was an email back with a copy of her birth certificate, the address of the home she was born in and some information about her father and sister. The woman said that if I wanted more information that she could dig further and it was 25 euro per hour (that’s dirt cheap, by the way!) with an estimate of the amount of hours it would take. Anyway, I thanked her and told her when I was ready I would give her the go ahead to keep digging. After more than a year of trying to find out this information, it magically appeared.

I can’t explain the pull I felt to go back. After going back and forth with it quite a bit, it felt like I had no choice. It’s very hard for me to explain this to people. Especially since I don’t really understand it myself. I’ve never had anything like this happen in my life. And it’s weird for me, I’m sure it must be even weirder to witness. I don’t expect people to understand. And it can’t matter to me if you do or you don’t. It’s an experience that is exclusive to me and it doesn’t need to make sense to you. I’m not trying to be a bitch, it’s just that I’ve spent so much of my life caring about what others will think of me, and with this very personal and strange stage of life, I just can’t do that anymore.

I’m still processing all of it. I still don’t feel that I have the spiritual wherewithal to navigate any of it. I don’t understand how I can feel homesick for a place that I am just getting to know. So I’m still taking it all in. I’ve been home for 5 days and still feel very out of sorts and out of place. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s such a 180 from my trip and return last year. Last year I spent a lot of time sitting with the regret of it all. Sad that I missed so much. And so far I have spent a lot of time thinking about how much I miss it.

So here’s what I can tell you. Going to her house kind of changed me. I know that sounds really over dramatic, but it was profound in its own way. Once I got there, and I stood outside, my ever racing heart started beating at a normal pace and a wave of peace rushed over me. I have to tell you that I have been craving that feeling for 2 years and it was incredible. I never thought I would ever feel peace again, so to get it in that moment was a huge reminder that going there was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to linger outside for too long, people live there and I didn’t want to make it weird, so I went back to the church, her church, that I visited last year. It was a 2 minute walk away. I sat in the same spot, stuck in place, for 30 minutes, involuntarily sobbing my eyes out. I couldn’t move, I tried. I told her “I’m here and I’m listening”. The messages I received are between me and her for now. But it was seriously one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Again, I don’t know what to do with any of it yet, but I’m grateful for it.

I realize now that last year was not a waste. I wasn’t ready and that’s clear. I needed last year so that this year would be what it was. Because I was frantically checking the weather the week before, I worried myself sick that I would not be able to accomplish everything I wanted to in the time that I had. The landing into Catania was rough. A 25 minute descent felt like it took 6 days. It was pouring buckets as I was walking from the terminal to the car rental office. I showed up at the desk completely saturated. I had no choice but to drive in it. I don’t know why I was acting like I didn’t know how to drive in the rain. I was fine. I arrived at my hotel, took a hot shower, saw the rain had stopped and went for a walk. I planned my visit to Linguaglossa around the weather. I made sure I would be there before the rain started and it worked. As I was driving back to my hotel, about an hour and a half away, 3 miles before my exit, the heavens opened up. Like BIG TIME rain, wind, flooding, all the things. Instead of crying about it, I talked myself through it, followed patterns of traffic and shut the fuck up about it. I parked my car at the hotel and the rain stopped. I got myself situated, and went back outside. I know these are weather related, but there were just so many things that I convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to do and I did them because I’m not an idiot. And it was in these moments that I realized that everything that I fear and tell myself I can’t do, it’s all a lie.

I had one moment of clarity yesterday. I have such abandonment issues that I hang on so tightly to things out of fear of losing them. With that comes a few more issues. One of them being when I get the tiniest taste of something, I just want more. And I make myself sick thinking about how I don’t have it anymore and get so sad missing whatever it is. But I swear, yesterday I thought about how, not too long ago, I was researching all the places in Sicily that I’ve been, wishing to be there, and I did it. I went to those places and I did the things. And so yea, maybe it wasn’t instant, but I did it. And it made the reeling thoughts shut up. Because I did that. I wanted to go and see these things and I saw them. And yes, of course I would like to see them again, but I confidently told myself that I absolutely will. Because I will. I humbled the shit out of myself and for once I shut the fuck up and just said Thank You.

The hardest part of this entire journey is learning to go with the flow. I have never gone with the flow. I go with plans and over thinking, and more plans, and anxiety, and panic attacks and then more overthinking. And I learned that it is possible for me to flow. I saw myself do it. And so yea, it’s maybe taking me a little longer than it would other people, but this journey is about me and that’s where I’ll put my focus. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be in this moment, but I won’t be in this place forever. It won’t always be like this. I’m going to continue to process everything at my own pace. 2 years ago I never thought I would still be in this very weird place, but little by little I’m making my way out of the darkness, maybe even for real this time.

This was a long post and I appreciate it if you made it this far. I’m going to be making some changes to this blog and restructuring things a little bit. Glad we could catch up, I promise more will be coming soon…

io ti prometto che sarà bellissimo, tornare a quei ricordi là, sì, a quei ricordi là, che brivido di quelli che non puoi spiegare, come vele in mare aperto, quando tira forte il vento, tu lascia che sia bellissimo, bellissimo…

Song name: Quei ricordi là/ Artist: Olly/ Year: 2024

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

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