Ask a Question, Get an Answer!

Wow. I’m still buzzing in the high of release. I asked myself last night, “At what point am I just rehearsing the script?” Well, from here on out. I’d never written it! For me, there’s catharsis in the tangible. It came out of my fingers; I saw it with my eyes. And it’s gone! Now I stop telling the story.

I don’t need to forgive my sister’s husband. I don’t care about him. He’s her family, not mine. It’s actually a relief. I never again expect myself to consider his humanity or success. I did that for twenty years. I don’t have to anymore.

Mom is forgiven. I understand. I only love her.

My dad, well, I could record the moments I knew he moved me into “step” status – Particularly appalling was yet another hypothetical I failed – but I won’t. I didn’t accept it until the Christmas I just wrote about. Now I do. He’s not a hate-monger. He’s just narrow-minded. He’s a good man. He and my mom are their own quiet brand of happy.

I accept that I will never “graduate.” There’s a freedom in giving up. I’ll breathe it in when it sucks, and exhale confidence that it won’t someday. Who knew I was Buddhist?!

Happy Anniversary, indeed! Thanks, worldwide web. And there’s more reason to celebrate: Mississippi outlawed slavery this week.

Through The Store Window

I try, I really try. That’s what we’re all doing here. Hence, they must be trying, too, but from my perspective my family is comprised of walking shells. “Turn a blind eye…” Repression, fear, and the unexamined self make for superficial, unfulfilling relationships that I cannot abide. I devolve into my lowest self, that angry brat who insists she will be HEARD, dammit! The more I demand it, the more they zombie out. For me, they are crazy-makers. I have to walk away. It is the act of courage it takes to grow up at long last and, in future, treat them and myself with gentleness, respect, and love. Developmental trauma’s a bitch. But I continue to repent myself, re-parent myself, forgive all of us and look on the whole sorry lot with tenderness and compassion. For now, I can do it only from the outside looking in.

“Friends are god’s way of making up for family.” I have been blessed with the companionship of like partners who treat each other as the therapist’s couch, and laugh and cry and love and hug and connect. There is nothing superficial about my urban family.

I never dreamed that my family of origin and I would fail, but the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result, as they say. They cannot be different. I must be.

Grow up, Darling Daughter. The time is now. Forgive. And remember, you cannot perceive the future. Not even with your connection to Spirit.

“… which they dismiss as utterly insane!” I scream back at my angels. I’m loath to let go my screaming little banshee. She protected me for a long time.  

*sigh*

We’ll love in our own broken way. At an arm’s length that is miles and miles long. My heart breaks to acknowlege my personal truth. Historically and currently, my immediate family is harmful to my mental health. And I to theirs. Blah.

I miss them. I mourn the loss of a dream of domestic bliss with them.

I been cryin’. Must be Christmas.

(Super stoked for 2013! Hope we don’t all die next week. 🙂 hehehe.)

Equanimity

… is a state of stability or composure arising from a deep awareness and acceptance of the present moment.

“What lies behind us
and what lies before us
are tiny matters compared to
what lies within us.”
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

“In every community, there is work to be done. In every nation, there are wounds to heal. In every heart, there is the power to do it.” -Marianne Williamson

I’ll be fine. Oh, fine! (I rather prefer my tantrums sometimes.)

I Need Jesus and His Nice Mom

My friend owes me a reading. I sold her a hoop. She channels Jesus and Mary, and I decided to cash in today. Here’s our convo on ye ol’ Facebook:

Christie: sweetie, could you please check in w’ mary and jesus for me? i’m going through it right now! let me know when you’re less busy… or something. just needin’ reassurance, guidance, love fairly desperately right now. thanks. ♥

Grace: yes! do you want to do a phone reading? i’m available. otherwise i’ll check in and email you a response within 48hours. so sorry to have lagged so long. what would you like the ‘focus’ of the guidance/reading to be about?

Christie: ugh, so much. i’ll give that some thought, flesh out the riff raff. i know what it is, just haven’t sat down for half a second to consciously get rid of it. relationship anxiety, partnership, worthiness. some stalker creep just got in my head, it’s the dumbest thing. i know he’s an angry, imbalanced person who has no bearing on my anything, but when he says something as pathetic as “you don’t deserve any man! suffer!” i think, “you’re right, i already knew that. okay.” i’m hurting. i’ll call you tomorrow around 7 my time?

still Christie: it all stems from lack of basic parental kindness and love, and that particular issue is at its zenith (again) right now because i’m currently in the longest estrangement i’ve ever had with them. it continues because i haven’t gone back this time and made everything “right.” i’m not going to. so i feel unloved, unloveable, and unworthy – permanently. even useless people can jump on that nerve and get a response, if privately. (he doesn’t know he got to me. i just ignored him, but it hurt.)

stiiill Christie: basically, i want love and i want to give love. i don’t think i can. i think i’m fundamentally broken and i wouldn’t trust/respect anyone who would trust me to love them. i don’t know what to do about that. i need jesus and his nice mom. there. i guess i figured it out, and now i’m crying. at work. 🙂

Grace: i love you, christy. thanks for sharing.

Christie: thanks for taking it to the authorities! i love you, too.

***

My Jewish atheist suitor would absolutely cringe. So would my bestie. So do I, a little, but it’s all just nomenclature. That’s her lexicon. I’m so excited! I love Jesus, even if he’s just a story or an idea or a dude with a lot of stuff attributed to him. Even if He’s God! I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ll know someday. Or I won’t.

Our Animals Do Important Work

I’m at my desk – running behind, can’t stay long – doing data entry in the Bereavement Log. “Social Worker spoke with husband, who verbalized feelings of loss and loneliness. He struggles to enjoy activities he used to share with wife. Family got him a cat to keep him company.” I began to cry. You know me.

How We Cope

First, all life is adaptive. This is Survival 101. Coping is a kind of adaptation. We do it as surely as we breathe.

Next, we each come with our own distinct natures, strengths and weaknesses. For me, gratitude is capricious; indignation, insistent… but so is dogged determination.

Ultimately, choice is how we cope. “It’s a choice. It’s a choice that you can make. This can be a cue for meltdown or a cue for coping.” -Dr. Phil

It’s hard for me to choose grace. Sometimes, knowing the task is mine alone to accept, forgive, and love unconditionally pisses me off. So sometimes I take the day off. But I always get back on that goddamned horse. As for nightmares? Well, you wake up.

Finally, Spring is balm to a savage soul. Thank god for fine weather this week and the freedom to be out sweating, chasing pockets of cold air, giggling as I pedal through downpours of fragrant falling petals.

“If your strife strikes at your sleep, remember that Spring swaps snow for leaves.” -Mumford & Sons

Whoa! Icky, Pervasive, Real-Time Stress Dream!

I saw my family on Saturday. It went well, as good as it could possibly have been. I had fun – real fun – and came home feeling ashamed, anxious, foolish, stupid. Ugh. Conversations and scenarios played out in my mind that did and didn’t happen. I felt like crying.

I had my worst true-to-life nightmare to date. There was no illogical dream-state skipping around to make it more dismissable. It was all of my issues maximized and constant. 9 hours of heartache, rejection, screaming, and anger. I was a fly on the wall watching George W. Bush flailing about in the Oval Office, opinionated but uninformed. An idiot and a danger. Horrified, I recognized myself. I was embarrassed. I wanted to run. I went home.

There, I found worksheets from a seminar mother attended, “Not a Good Fit: Loving Your Child Anyway?” In the margin, she wondered what to do when my brother and sis are away… proof positive of what I already knew: She absolutely and always hated me.

I started bawling almost immediately upon awakening. I couldn’t calm myself. “Christie, it went well. You’re on the path again to healing.” But the feeling of “F*** them!” prevailed. I couldn’t stop myself from crying out, “It’s just not worth it!” Whether they do or don’t, they always hurt me. My brain is so sick with them, I can’t even hope for peace in my sleep. Do you know that I can’t recall a single family dream that wasn’t unpleasant? I am tied up in knots and my subconscious won’t let me stop, accept, forgive and move on.

What the hell do I do?

I biked to the park and spent the afternoon in the shade crocheting, listening to the people and the gulls. I hooped at the drum circle. I felt better afterwards, but today I still feel icky. I feel rather hopeless a project sometimes, married to being right and wrathful.