Tired Thoughts

Vulnerability is to be strong. So I have read. We all have the desire to be loved, encouraged and accepted for who we are.

There was so much more I was going to write. And part way through, I realized it is pointless.

Wether I am kind or cutting. Giving or closed off. It will never be correct as people put their own meaning on the things others do. We will always be the bad guy or the weak jerk in someone’s story, no matter the intent.

It’s easy to let that removed judgement defeat us. Turn us cold, label people as toxic, cruel – hold on to anger, hurt.
To stop trying, loving, understanding, trusting, accepting, respecting, connecting……. we do not allow vulnerability, where true healing is found.
We turn this on ourselves, to reinforce kindness comes with payment, we are unworthy of love and acceptance, we are unworthy of working towards better.
And so the cycle goes.

Whether I am a good character or bad character in the story you tell yourself- I can not change this. But I am learning to accept I am a whole character trying hard to hang on in a world that makes it very hard to be vulnerable, content, kind and forgiving.

❤️

Covid Rage

Here it is folks- This day’s contemplation rant, RAGE.

I am tired. I have been trying for quite a while now to find the right words, to express myself about what is happening in my life, my community, my province, my country, my world.

Humanity does not seem to be winning. I see so much fear, misinformation and emotional hostage taking, Random arguments picked. Desperation to get back to what was, with out considering the cost. Resistance to what could be, because it seems unclear.

The din of voices drowning out common sense and decency. We are a bunch of selfish toddlers in this society.

So, from my cosy little corner on the couch, with coffee in hand, well aware of the world’s ills and that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I shall say this with much frustrated love-

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Just for a minute.

Everyone take a collective breath.

Here it is as I see it (make no bones, I KNOW in so many ways I am privileged, but there is much of my life that has not been.) So here goes.

You- yeah you over there thinking your ‘rights’ are being taken away by being told to stay home, wear a mask and practice social distancing, putting off some vanity haircut, tanning whatever. Where the hell is your social consciousness?! Are you so selfish that you can not look beyond your own wants- make no mistake that is what they are, wants, not needs. Just because it might not be someone in your immediate circle affected does not mean it won’t eventually affect you- perhaps you aren’t invincible, you can get sick too. And to clarify, WE ALL have to right to be SAFE, not the ‘right’ for a dye job…… stop letting your privilege show.

And you over there- whining that we are being too cautious because the numbers in Canada have stayed relatively low- HOW else do you think that happened? Your logic makes as much sense as putting a helmet on immediately after falling off your bike and dripping your brains on the sidewalk.

All the rally cries of all the things that kill more people a year- we know- but your comparisons are faulty, for most of your arguments about diseases, there are treatments (not perfect) available to help or those numbers would be much higher. For the comparisons about mental health, addiction, suicide and domestic violence, this current state of the world is going to elevate those numbers astronomically- this will be the third deadly wave of the pandemic. SO rather than wringing your hands what are we going to do? How are you going to be proactive, so the numbers don’t get any higher. By the way, as of this writing over 320,000 people have died from this single virus )

Now, let’s move past us average folks, who by and large are really doing the best we can with what we have. Most of our anger, fear and frustration comes from what we are being shown and told by the powers that are in charge. The bullshit some of you are willing to buy into. Look what it’s turning you into, turning you blind to…….This is where my real vitriol is.

There are many I could call out by name, not just the few I am willing to, but these are just the examples of what horrifies me most about the world I am raising my daughter in.

Hey, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Kevin O’Leary, Brett Wilson, and all of you with more money that you actually need. Put your money where your mouth is.

You want congrats Jeff for providing your staff T-shirts that say Frontline hero’s ? Fuck you- pay them living wages, proper benefits.

Hey Brett, how would your Grandparents or Mom feel about knowing you think their lives are expendable? Proud they raised such an upstanding man?

Same for you Richard, you could help out the poorest of the poor, and it would not even cause a major hiccup in your bank account.

And Kevin, your politic of putting money before the well being of the average person is disgusting.

But hey, if the politicians are going to allow it and play ball in your arena then it must be ok. Right?!

You tell them the only way to get our economy going is to listen to you because ‘look what we’ve built’- beats chest mightily in the process…. On who’s backs? The people you won’t take care of, but will willingly sacrifice to illness and death, which is more likely due to socioeconomic standing than luck.

And all you ‘self made millionaires’,

1: You weren’t self made, there were many who helped you, who you used and stepped on on your way to the bloat.

2: No more bullshit that this system can be accessed by anyone, it’s not, it never has been, it’s rigged in favour of white males. The few not from that particular ilk who have busted through the ranks are mostly the ones doing the quiet helpful work now.

3: Really not your fault that you have been sheltered by a corrupt political system, you’re just using what’s there. Kinda like bloated ticks on a poor hound.

The banks too- It is so tempting at this point to want to scratch my eyes out if I see one more ‘we are here to help you in these uncertain times’ commercial. NO YOU ARE NOT. Smoke and mirrors, you will not sacrifice profit, bonuses or payouts to your investors to help me with my business or home, I’d have to already be rich for you to approve me.

My real dislike is for some very specific Politicians willing to continually gut the system, especially now, during this very uncertain time.

Your constituents need help- Yes Jason Kenney, this one is personal. Even before the pandemic hit you were systematically wanting to emulate your hero trump.

Your priority should have been helping our Indigenous Peoples access clean water, better education/social programs and cultural education- nope, let’s focus on an out of date industry.

Your priority should have been education, helping make it affordable for all, instilling diversified programs to build up multiple industries in our province- nope. Let’s cut funding for all schools- starting with primary, classes of 30-50 are fine, we will standardize, no one needs critical thinking skills anyway (that might lead to questions). Teachers don’t need more resources, kids don’t need programs to help them navigate social or mental health issues. Special programs aren’t needed to help educate- they may not come out with much but what does it matter no one fails anyway because we don’t have the room.

Oh and those whiny post secondary- you can always (not) get a loan, except we will change those rules, so you better have top grades or you are not worthy. You also better be in an urban centre because you are not worthy of access other wise. Better cut funding to the schools to, for your (imaginary) war room- you know the real important stuff. No arts are needed, they can do with out. But really, since most of us have been home what have we relied on for unity/sanity- THE ARTS.

You hand big O&G companies vast sums of money, without assurances that it would really benefit Albertans, so many up and moved their offices after that. Great plan.

Healthcare- well come on, private is the way to go. Why make a fair access system in the Government, you and your friends can’t make money off of that (yes Shandro I am looking at you).

There are so many other things, taking away access to mostly women’s health procedures, slowly chipping away at rights LGBTQ have fought hard and so richly deserve, I could go on.

And I will- even during this crisis you continue with this bullshit- your southern idol picks a fight with China, you follow suit, you challenge our own national government for money- but mostly for O&G, you wait to see what they are going to give the masses during the pandemic before you decide what you ‘have to do’ for them. Still picking fights with our much needed doctors, so many still planing to leave when the worst of this pandemic subsides, because of you and Shandro.

You throw our own chief medical officer under the bus more than once, and then like a school yard bully, when things show signs of getting better because we follow her advice, decide you now have to give the ‘good’ news so you can look like a good guy.

You need the economy to get started (as do we all) you announce opening dates and no effing plan, so then you have to walk back on some of it. You say you want a fair equity deal from Ottawa- not for the people just for O&G. You outrightly insult any other industry that may have had a thought to come here to build (your insult to green energy was infantile). I am not against O&G but it must update and diversify if it is to not sink in the tar pits like the dinosaur it is.

I see much about how all this money used to help us now has to come from somewhere (it did, those are the taxes we pay), and we are not dumb, you will want to claw every bit back- but ask yourself, if you weren’t wasting so much chasing your dream and stroking your privileged buddies, wouldn’t there have been more of OUR money to use for us?

You refuse to help renters (commercial and home) with protections because they can’t pay- Leads me to wonder how many buildings you own. You own pathetic privilege is showing. You congratulate the citizens of Alberta for coming together and helping each other- what else were we going to do? I didn’t see you offering to take a cut in pay (or anyone in your cabinet for that matter) to let that money help out a local business or cover rent for someone? You could survive this pandemic not working for 3 months, It’s getting pretty razor’s edge for me and many I know. I don’t know what’s coming next. I know I can’t really look to you. I don’t trust you.

We have to fight. You and your cohorts must be help accountable for the things you are trying to slide past us now. You were hired by the masses, (I was not one), but you still work for us and your review is not great. I know there are people who think you are doing a bang up job, but you have spent much time subtly feeding their fear of loosing oil, that sense of us against them. I am glad you are not quite as vile and inept as your orange faced hero, but you really ought to rethink following his lead.

Meanwhile, WE need to look out for each other, socially, physically and mentally.

Support local, respect those who have been working this whole time, those now trying to find their way back, be gentle with those fearful.

Wash your hands, wear your masks, be responsible for and to one another. It’s really all we have.

End rant.

TFTFL- Virus Interruptus – Last Night I Cried.

Last night I finally cried, hard.

We have been under the isolation ‘suggestion’ for a week.

Doing our best to minimally go anywhere- just essentials, no playdates, no visitors. We can go outside but must stay the recommended six foot distance away from one another (your same in-house family members don’t count, as long as they are not ill). My job as a Massage Therapist has come to a hard stop. I teach at a local university, my hands on classes are cancelled. I have no real income, (like so many others at this time).

My husband still has work, but his hours have been cut, and as much as it would be preferable that he work from home, his job and equipment needed will not allow him.

There is no clear answer as to how long this will be. At first we were told two weeks, now it seems more and more we are hearing at least a month. It is all perfectly reasonable, given the unknown factors about this virus. Most will recover just fine, but it has proven fatal in those with immunocompromised systems, and of advanced age. It spreads quickly and they have no known treatment, other than symptomatic. If it moves too fast through the population it will overwhelm our medical systems, and more people will die. This slow controlled isolation is to mitigate that. Those who have gotten really sick from it talk about how painful it is.

But you all know this. You all are living this too. It fucking sucks.

So why did I cry?

It started with a difference of opinion over how to load a dishwasher. Typical long time living together stuff. But much more heightened. The tears come as my partner chuffed at my voicing the way I have been doing it for the better part of two weeks, (and for years before that, until I got really busy with my career).

For the most part in the last five years the kitchen had been his. He does a majority (90%) of the cooking and all of the grocery shopping. Until the last two weeks.

With nothing much on the foreseeable horizon for massage and teaching I needed to do something. One of the things I understand for my mental health is that I need to feel productive, connected and of service. So I jumped into building a support community to keep peoples spirits up, cooking, and systematically cleaning the house.

As all of you out there probably feel as well, I am tired, stressed, I am fearful of how long and what the actual losses are going to be. My anxiety is bad. Now that we seem to be ‘settling’ into this new high stress normal, the rest of life issues that went temporarily on hold when the first wave of panic hit, are letting me know they are still there.

Before this global crisis came knocking on the door, real life was also ganging up on me. I was given another reality check about things with my body that are altering what I can do as far as my career goes. I have to face the reality that I will live with some form of pain, more than likely for the rest of my life. I had been working through some deep trauma origins to my mental health issues, having some great success with new tools (these are being mightily tested these days), but was starting to feel some fatigue from this and needed break. And my birthday is today.

My anxiety is high around it, I haven’t felt like celebrating since my 45th, two years ago. That was an amazing party. There were so many people there I cared about. I thought that all was well. But it was not. And in some significant ways this party signified the end of my little clan of people. (There will be another essay on this, when it doesn’t trip me up so much). Now having groups of people together gives me great anxiety and paranoia- yet I am so sad to not do anything at all, as I really loved those gatherings. It is a difficult paradox.

Add these underlying things to the current situation. I am also dealing with the fact that some of my most needed tools will be temporarily unavailable to me, if I am not working, I can not afford to get my own much need massage, to reduce physical pain and help with some major anxiety symptoms. I can not just ‘reach out’ and meet a friend for a coffee, or a hug. Most people don’t have it in them to support much outside of themselves in this time, and physical contact is not to be at the moment. This scares me some, not to have these things available that I know really work. The best tools I have is trying to be of service, and relying on my spiritual practice. So I am trying to offer what emotional support I can by checking in with people I know who also are struggling with this clusterfuck reality. I am trying to offer calm, sage, words and guidance that comes to me through meditation and the cards. I am concentrating on supporting my family as best as I can, cooking, cleaning, loving, listening, kindness….

I feel numb and it is hard to write. When I am numb like this I can be productive for organization, taking care of others and chores. Things I can ‘control’. When my husband and I had our little pointed exchange, I felt my eyes well up instantly and my voice shrink down. The tears were hot, they burned my cheeks. They would not stop. I quietly went to my room and sat. After a bit I stopped trying to stop the flow. It was one long shaky water fall. I wanted to howl, I wanted to scream my pain out. I wanted a hug, I wanted to get out. I wanted to roll into a ball and be very alone. I wanted to throw things, curse, throw up. Instead I silently wept, my body shook. My hands, that have been so steady this last while, still haven’t stymied the jitters. Snot mixing with the tears poured down my face and it was coming faster than I could wipe it away. I allowed this for a few minutes, and did my damnedest to pull it together. The rational voice is always loud when there is no time to fall apart.

I realize I am being controlling and territorial in the kitchen, but I need this place. I need to own it. My identity feels stolen. I am a Mother, Wife, Teacher, Massage Therapist, Pagan, Friend………………. I brought in money that was needed to run the house. But now I have no income, two of my titles are temporarily on hold.

It is in that moment of exchange over the loading of the dishwasher I realized how lost I felt. I feel I have lost part of my domain, my role…… So much of the fear bubbled out too. The immediate fear and frustration around our current global situation. The deeper pain of all the things that have changed the trajectory of my life that I have not had any control over. Knowing his over reaction to that loading of the dishwasher was simply a byproduct of his fear and anxiety over this large scale situation that we have no control over. I needed control over something and the kitchen is where I staked my claim.

Today, I will allow my daughter to make the deal out of my birthday that she wants to (even though we can’t go out). and I will be so very grateful that she is safe and with me.

Eventually I will do what I do, I will offer my heart, my ear, kind words, understanding.

and I will be so very grateful for it. I will continue to seek out hope for myself and others.

But for now, because I know the tears are just under the surface, I will step away and give myself the gift of understanding that I just can’t communicate outside my little world right now.

Understand that what we are all feeling and going through are completely normal reactions to a very abnormal situation.

Be kind, be compassionate, have patience.

Thank you for reading

Tales From The Front Line- Virus Interruptus aka WTF?!

This is an uncertain time. It threatens to overwhelm anyone and everyone, but what about those with mental health issues? Anxiety, Depression and PTSD are difficult to manage on any given day, but watching the world be swept up by the very real fears of this pandemic. Fears about health, finance and scarcity. We are also reacting to those around us who feel like they are just hanging on. So what does this mean?

I am so grateful for the self work I have been doing in the last few months, it really made me look at what I can do to mitigate the monsters from taking over.

I have been setting up new boundaries, I have removed close contact to those who are not supportive and set off my anxiety. Long breaks from social media- reorganizing what is in my feed. Being mindful about limiting caffeine (this is a regular fail…. but I try), decreasing refined sugar and taking my vitamins and drinking water. Working at regular exercise (injury has made this hard but not impossible). Getting regular massage has been so important to decrease the pain, increase relaxation and connection with my body. Meditation and finding comfort within other aspects of my spiritual practice. Creative outlets like reading, writing and painting. More time with nature. Asking for what I need and being mindful of my actions. Trying to be of service to those around me.

Is it always a fail safe? No. But it’s what I have to work with. Refining this tool belt has been important, but I did not realize how much until now.

So in times like these how does that work? I am in contact with more people through out the day, offering support, and ear, a calm port. I have been on social media and news outlets much more than I have in the last couple of months. Caffeine has increased as I sip coffee mindlessly while voraciously reading what ever information I can find to give me an idea of what the future holds for my career (massage therapist) and family. My injuries have been in a flare up and exercise has gone by the way side. We have all been home together, eating comfort food. I have been taking vitamins, trying to get sleep, meditate, write (this has been somewhat frustrating), stick with my spiritual practices, be of help, but……

It is thin ice I am navigating. I would have to say that I have always been able to keep my preverbal shit together when there is a crisis, or big life shifts. My survival mode can carry me a long way. This could very well be where I am at. Months from now, there is a very real possibility that I will have a bad run of the monsters taking over for a good long while about seemingly meaningless stuff. What will really be happening, is all the emotion I may not be expressing/processing right now will find its way to the surface. But there is difference this time.

I am actually aware it is thin ice out here. That is a win, to be able to identify that I am in a place where I may get tripped up. So I am working very hard to stay within the boundaries I have set up for myself.

I still limit my social media interaction, I am only looking at real information, passing on what is needed. Still limiting my contact to where I feel safe. Taking breaks to put my phone and computer away. I know I am being sought out for comfort, and I will continue to be a service. Which has me accessing social media more than I should. I recognize, if I am tired or expose myself too much to the fear and panic prevailing out there I am no good to anyone. I must first create quiet within myself, so I step away.

Today I also recognized some of my comfort behaviours (food, lack of exercise, too much wine, not enough sleep) will lead me to not be able to hold off the monsters very well and slip into old patterns.

With my daughter being home it has been pretty easy to up my activity- but I think her and I will commit to at least 30 minutes of activity in a day, (not including outside- that is nature not gym class).

I will continue to observe my spiritual path and honour what I learn there, and try to apply it to my life.

Replace the social media distraction with creating of some kind , or quiet reading and reflection.

Working on connecting with my self and my family. We have all changed and grown so much over the last few years, I think we need a better reconnect. The outside world is much less a distraction as there is no where to go. We must enrich our inner worlds.

Love my body, and honour it, in all ways.

Practice kindness to my self and non judgment of others.

This is the ideal.

But realistically I am going hour by hour like everyone else in the world right now. Am I going to handle this incredibly intense period of time with grace? I know I am human, I will be ok, some of the time, and the rest of the time I am like everybody else. But I will come back to what I have been learning. Every time. I will come back.

We will come back. Have faith. Be kind. We will come back.

New Battle Plan

*trigger warning rape, sexual abuse, abuse.

When you look at me, what do you see? When you listen / read the things I present, does this change your perception of who I am and what I’m capable of? I champion mental health with no shame. Yet if I feel I am being judged harshly for mine or my coping mechanisms I feel shame almost immediately. Humiliation, that at times I never feel good enough, stained, reviled. A very human fraud.

Even though I have struggled with my anxiety disorder for most of my life ( some periods more debilitating than others). I have always believed that I can find better strategies and healing. As I’ve gotten older I see where some of my survival techniques are becoming more habitual and more harmful than helpful.
My need to please and be loved is a huge piece ( but not the only) of my anxiety. It takes up a lot of space in my head. My ego, fractured and vacuous- ‘Love me! Value me! Reassure me!’ And when you don’t…..‘Why do you hate me? What did I do? How can I fix it? Grovelling? Blood? My soul? What did I do? Tell me, love me, look how awesome I am!!!’ When I win forgiveness I am temporarily satisfied. When I don’t, well, I take that as a very keen assessment of how horrible I am. And I will berate myself for failing the other person (right or wrong on my part). Now to be somewhat fair, I am happiest when I can be of service, when my ego and monsters stay out of it. But when they don’t, I am easily hurt, resentful and paranoid.
I want to try, after all these years, to quiet those monsters, if not get rid of them completely.

To know my monsters I need to acknowledge their beginnings. In the beginning this dance of doing the right things and not making waves was a protective motion. I grew from alcoholism, violence, having a terminally ill parent, loss of my two protectors ( Mother and Nana at 12). If everyone was happy, no one got hurt. I needed to be quiet and not bother anyone, there was enough going on without me being a bother.

There are many layers to this I have discovered, my Mother being sick and dying for a quarter of my life, has created its own brand of monsters. A mentally unstable alcoholic father, who threatened suicide often, pulling guns on me and my mother. Being sexually molested repeatedly as a child and later raped and assaulted as a teen all fed into me wanting to hyper-please, not make waves and give into the needs and expectations of those around me. Because if everyone is happy no one gets hurt. If I can be good enough my worthless self maybe redeemed. I will always be the one to make amends, I will apologize for being angry at you (even if it was justified). I will back down, just to keep the peace.
The real trouble comes now, when expectations come into play. Why am I not getting the same as what I give? ( asked the damaged pieces craving grace) Because you have never been worthy ( giggles the monster) If I try harder, give more? Dampen down more of me. Be beyond expectation. Then surely I will be loved ( pleads the broken) Not when they see you for the worthless used trash you are ( grins the monster) I shall apologize for doing it wrong, be more of what’s expected…. but I’m tired ( the broken prostrates) You won’t matter ( the monster roars until all is drown out) you didn’t then, you don’t now. All they know is you are weak and damaged.

So stupid, this drama. It is false. I am not perfect, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But there are people who love me. I have done good in the world. I have accomplished a lot, given where I started. I truly aspire to help those around me, to connect and encourage. It is a beautiful moment seeing the light on someone. A beautiful moment of connection to feel that you have truly made even a small difference. And yet this can become misunderstood and tainted if it appears I am only doing this for self gratification and/or to seek attention. When I do allow that vulnerability to ask if things are ok? Or if I’m too much? It can be off putting and appear overly dramatic. Met with frustration and dismissal. I can move into passive/aggressive mindset as a protective armour. That manipulation is never my intention but can get easily twisted. And yet the monsters over shadow my true intentions, they steal joy, deflate relationships, create horrible communication patterns all to prove to my self I am the broken, and not worthy of respect, compassion and to just be.

I do not want this. I am not responsible for the inappropriate violent things I was subjected too. I am not responsible for these survival mechanisms created, at the time they did their job. I am responsible now, to address that these are not serving me ( and have not for a long while) any longer. That my need to be needed and reassured causes harm to myself ( can’t say no, try to be too much to too many, devalue my own needs and wants) and to others ( misread intentions, exhausting intensity).

I am intelligent, creative, spiritual, caring, kind, empathetic. I have compassion and the ability to communicate love and to be trusted. I do not want to loose or shut these abilities down because of my monsters taking over.
So, I’m committed to learning about myself, with clear eyed compassion and analysis. Owning where I have hurt others, apologizing when I can, trying to not have the expectations of forgiveness. Being mindful of what I need, setting the boundaries and using my voice to champion myself. A new way of thinking. A new way of doing. Lots of breathing and patience on my end. Fear. Knowing I can not control what happens next, just because I’m ready to change these things does not mean my world is ready for me to change them. Risk. It will take time, it may not be 100% but I know that I will never be defined by my traumas or my mental illness. I will be defined by how I lived in spite of them.
Thank you for reading. ❤️

Goodbye my friend?

Make the decision to let something go. A song will no longer remind you of a breakup, seeing the person will no longer cause pain in your chest, hearing their name will no longer bring tears, happy memories may be once again looked on fondly. Make the decision and you can get there. But it is not easy. It is not linear. It is a spiral, it creeps back on you, out of the shadows. You feel the prickle on your neck, the heat move up your face and the tears threatening to spill. The sick drop in the deep of your gut, the hurt, anger and grief.

We often use this kind of imagery when talking about an ex lover, an acrimonious break up. The death of a dear loved one, deep grief of loss. Seldom about the break up of a friendship. But I am the first to attest that these deep wounds of loss that I am feeling are for the loss of a friendship that I loved, and for the collateral damage it has caused. It was a long time, long held friendship. One I thought would stand the test of time. With the demise of this once enjoyable, adventurous, always interesting relationship, so much else was irrevocably changed.

We had once worked together, our families celebrated so much together, birthdays, weddings, births, sometimes just a nice summer day was enough to bring us together. These gatherings started long before children, they morphed over the years to include children and growing families. We went from our twenties to our forties, with humour and style. Then it changed.

Can I pin point when? I think maybe now, I can kind of see when it first began to take a turn. But that has taken time for me to figure out. If you had asked me six months ago what happened and when….. I would have told a much different story. One where I am the complete victim of an unprovoked, subtle, destructive, gaslighting. One where I had no culpability to the drama. A drama that came out of no where. One where some very important relationships in my life had become collateral damage, or specific targets to destroy, meant to hurt me. A story where my trust and faith in so many people was broken, where I felt alone, unimportant, tainted by her alleged portrait of me.

At first I wanted it to just disappear, there had been so much other drama I had been dealing with, the addition of this had the potential to be crippling to me and very sacred things in my life. I decided to just ignore her, at least for the time that the drama blew up. But the ripple effects became wider and things had to come out in the open. I eventually wanted to hear her side, what was truth, misunderstood, what ever, just an explanation, a healing, a finish…something, anything. I thought maybe she would want that too. That our friendship had meant enough for her to want to sort out the mess. I reached out, I tried to ask, I was met with nothing. No one else could offer an explanation. Or wanted too.

I tried then to ‘let it go’. Tried to make peace with not knowing, make peace that few involved, seemed not all that bothered by what had happen and the destruction it had brought. I had asked that not much be disrupted on social media as our kids were friends and this did not involve them. Our connections are many and it makes life complicated. I was hopeful that a few may step up and ignore her in solidarity with me. But it did not happen. I was hoping time would soften and some type of resolution found. Nothing. I took a break from much social media, I could not handle seeing everyone else interact as though nothing had happened (even though I said it was ok, that no one owes me anything, that I can not control who talks to who, that it was a better way to handle things- but remember I do have anxiety and the gross trauma based need to please and keep things calm). My anxiety monsters feasted on the distrust, anger and sadness this brought. I did my best to contain the worst of how I felt when it bubbled up.

But my brain chewed on this, I need to try to understand, for myself at this point more than anything. In looking back, I think the slight cracks began to show at at a critical time for my friend, she was going through great loss and turmoil. ( Due to the anxious nature of my brain, I analyze things to the smallest parts, replay to try to figure things out. Sometimes it’s a handy skill, sometimes it is a paralyzing task.) I don’t think I was the friend she needed, maybe. I don’t think I was completely there for her due to the circumstances of my own life. I am sure I have some accountability. We had grown apart for some time, long before this, life was hectic. She needed support, I gave what I could, perhaps not mindful enough of what was needed. Perhaps I said something hurtful but was not mindful enough to notice and it set a poison seed. I had begun to make peace. Things were quiet, her presence seemed to diminish some.

I waited a few months. In a moment of hopefulness, and at an opportune time I tried to send her a birthday greeting, noting social media settings had been manipulated so I can see her but can not contact her. So I texted. It was met with a thank you, and that was all. No follow up, no anything. Except a bump in her presence again everywhere. Again the anxiety returned, bringing with it the ugly monsters of grief, distrust and deep sadness. Again I made the decision to ‘let it go’. I can’t change what happened. I will never understand except for the explanation(s) I have created in my own head.

The sick feeling I got when her name would pop up (thanks social media for having to show who is always doing what and where), was starting to soften. But I could feel the grief, it was hard but getting easier to move through. Until it hit again this weekend. Having to do with birthday party invites, family dinner expectations, and a semi rehash of assumed/alleged events, and the loss being felt by not only me, but my family. And her presence everywhere else increased. The sick, sad, confused feeling returned. Hopefully for a short while. But again, with the exception of this post, a break from direct social media until it ebbs and I can once again be the grown up who can handle the observation of whom is chatting, commenting or ‘liking’ and not feel hurt, sad.

I keep telling my family that sometimes we don’t ever get to understand fully what happen’s in some situations, that it can be ok to let go, disconnect from someone, wish no ill will, that life will move on and be ok. I keep telling them that truly we are not owed anything by anyone and time will move on. That at this point no answer will satisfy. That anger is pointless. And that the sadness will fade. I will keep saying it until I can fully believe it all the time, and the memories I have of all the times spent and shared can once again be seen with love and grace, not sadness and grief. That my anxiety trigger around this is temporary. That the distrust I feel with heal, and I will no longer wish that anyone will stand in solidarity (us vs them immature mentality) with me and cut her out. That I will no longer let the monsters periodically play on my self worth by feeling I didn’t matter enough to her, or to others who did not ‘choose’ to side with me.

I do believe the Universe will keep bringing us back to the same, to show us if we really have learned and/ or let go. I fundamentally understand why this is important, to teach us to really move on, to provide us healing. But I don’t have to like being brought back to this place again.

I resent that it still drives me from other connections (even if temporary), I resent the feelings that still come up, that I still have to work at it. I resent so much of this, I am grieving so many things because of this. I resent that I still want to understand why. I resent that she never tried. Today it is hard to find hope that I can move on. It is hard to hope that all of this sharp pain will dull permanently. It is hard to have hope that I will be ok with her presence and not feel the just a bit resentful and so sad. It is hard to manage the trigger this pulls for the anxiety monster that eats at me. It is hard to have hope that all the things affected by this will ever be completely righted. It is hard to not wish that she feels just as sad and hope that the loss of me matters. It is hard to quash that tiny little flame of hope that it can be saved, that it should be saved, that it was worth enough to both of us.

Tomorrow I will again choose to ‘let go’ and hope that there is a longer reprieve, that the next round is softer, shorter. Tomorrow I will again choose compassion, and hope that someone makes that choice for me. Tomorrow I will choose to wish her well.

Hey Witch, wake up!

When I was little my Nana would talk to me about my dreams and show me how some of the things I could hear and see were useful information. She taught me that I could access these things even when I was not dreaming. She taught me how to read a plain deck of cards, to see what was, is and could be. She taught me to speak to and honour the Garden Fae. How to read what Mother Nature shows us in the sky, water, fire and movement of the plants. To listen to the whispers of the trees. To cook and bake with intent and love. To have faith and humour. And to have manners and respect for all beings. She made the colours of childhood much brighter.

I lost this amazing Crone when I was twelve. The same year I lost my Mother.

I knew early on I was a Witch. I knew the wisdom that had been passed to me was ancient at its core. The small superstitions and rituals my Nana had instilled in me, took root and bloomed in me when I was a teen, as I discovered the Craft.

But I was very young, angry, sad, lonely and had no guide. I devoured what I could about Witches, Pagans, spells, rituals. I had much of it romanticized in my head, mixed up with the core connection to the Elements.
I was not a very respectful or responsible Witch. I did spells and ritual without having the respect of the meaning and connection. I wanted so bad to manipulate the energies around me for my gain, the harder I tried, the less anything good happened. It was disappointing to not be immediately gratified. It took discipline I did not have and wisdom I was too impatient to learn.

Slowly over time the shiny color of the Craft became muted. I never fully lost my connection to the Gods and Goddesses, but it was a very small, quiet piece. And life went on. Through my twenties and thirties I would call on the Tarot now and again, the odd observance of the Moon. For many reasons I kept a fairly tight lid on my calling.

As I approached the age my Mother was when she died so many things happened in that watershed three years. The year approaching, year of and the year after. This story is centred on my (re)union with the Craft.
Slowly into my 40s I began to revisit some of the childhood colours my Nana had created. I had a daughter of my own ( my Nana’s namesake), and I wanted to give her some of that so special magic. Gardening ( when there was time), honouring the Fae who would watch over our plants. Cooking with intent and love. Watching the sky, talking to the animals and hugging the trees to hear their whispers.

At 43 ( the ‘year approaching’) a fuse was lit. A small stream of air, feeding the embers that were beginning to grow in my soul. As random as the connection seemed at the time, looking back, I really don’t believe that at all. I know not the full extent of the meaning, but at the time was a catalyst for much of what was to come. But it hi-lighted the need, the draw, the pull, that I had to fall fully into ritual, cards and magic. It came on like a runaway train.

Of course at the start of this reawakening, there was the rush of familiarity, the hum of playing with Energies, calling on the Spirits of the Ethereal.
But as the ‘year of’ began to wane, the reality of how much work there was to this, the responsibilities, the knowledge yet untapped, started to set in. There was still an air of fun, play, discovery and connection. But this too, would undergo much fracture, change and alteration.
As the ‘year after’ came to pass, the lessons and detachment were becoming obvious, self reflecting and painful. That what I believed, this journey was to be undertaken not as a Solitary, but that there were others to walk at my side, was indeed false. And an unfair assumption. The harder I wanted to hold on to that rush, bright coloured, beautiful light, the faster it seemed to slip away, some reasoning understandable, some still confusing.

As yet another tidal wave of change began, and healing was sought, I fought hard to keep my faith. I opened my eyes to the truth that no one walks a journey with anyone else. We may be side by side, but perceptions and needs are never the same. We may be side by side for a little or a long time. We may part, temporarily in this life, or understand we must wait till the next to again share a piece of the path.

In this understanding I noticed something else. There was a difference this time. An evolution. That if I were to be true to my calling I needed to begin to study my relation to these Elementals and to myself, first.
Only then will I have an understanding to my relation to the world and people around me.
As I look to honour my Nana, I delve deeper into the history of where my soul comes from. My connection to the Elemental Magic grows in technicolor.

I am grateful for all that has happened, what it has stripped away, mined from the depths. I am blessed to find a home within the Craft once again. This time with more mature, respectful eyes and heart.
It’s hard to not want to share every bit of the colour, shape and sound of what I am and what I am learning with those who are similar in heart and sight. But this too is not the way it is to be at this time. There are moments, but no shared Sabbats, bread broken to share, wine/mead raised in celebration of the larger clan. I hope the time of celebration in this time will come again. But I am not alone, as the Ancients are always with me.
Until then, I study, I listen, my heart and eyes open, my hands ready to help. This journey is not easy, but it is so worth it 🔮

Blessed Be My Brothers and Sisters-

But I am not ready

Today on my mind is pain.

All those who really know me, know that my accidental choice of a career, Massage Therapist, beautifully turned into a life passion. I have been gifted to be with clients in birth, death and all states in between.

The honours I have been trusted with: life stories, vulnerability, knowledge- sacred and silly, wisdom, hurt, healing, fear, and joy. It has been such a cool, hard, interesting path. I have seen people and their perceived weakest (but the strength it took to get through it was amazing), their strongest, in pain, in triumph.

Once I realized that this is where I am at my best service, where I can do so much good, I realized this is also one of the most satisfying things I am capable of.

It has brought me to a place where I am entrusted with teaching the next generation of Massage Therapists. I have met some exceptional talents and hearts entering this field. I try to translate the wisdom I have gained over the years to them. To be humbled by what you are witnessing, whether it is an elite athlete getting back to sport, a mom reducing her pain to be able to play with her toddler, someone on their 4th battle with cancer, a Fibromyalgia patient being able to have a pain free day, or an over worked dad actively practicing self care to reduce the stress on his body and mind, or someone losing the ability to follow their passion and reimagining and finding the courage to change the life plan. There is a raw honesty we get to observe. We do our best to help the body get as well as it can. It is amazing.

The people I have touched, the marks they have left on me. I have whole families that I have been blessed to watch for the better part of two decades. I have celebrated and grieved in equal measure. Never once considering my own time may be finite.

Pain.

The therapist has become the patient.

It’s funny, I have had mental illness for most of my life that I have been dealing with, I am open and honest with all those in my life about those battles, but the other battle I have been waging for just over two years now, I have not been completely open with how I am dealing with it.

I am 46, the last 4 years are the healthiest I have ever been. I weigh 200+ pounds less than I did twenty years ago. I exercise quite regularly, I eat so much better than I did a decade ago, I actively work at my mental health. Two years ago my body told me that I was defiantly not young anymore. I have aches and pains, some related to the everyday, some to my anxiety disorder, but hey, I have access to some of the best massage, acupuncture and chiropractic out there, so healing and management are easy peasy.

I started to show signs in my right shoulder of tendonitis. Not surprising statistically, given my age, gender and career choice. I am so very lucky to have a very insightful Massage Therapist of my own. As I began to get my own regular therapy for it we realized as we ‘dug’ deeper into the tissue it was so much more. There had been long buried childhood trauma there. It would take work but I was hopeful to be fully back to myself in time. It is a blessing when a therapist can calmly walk this journey with you. To observe, compassionately adjust and continue momentum. I was making great headway, modifying certain things like exercise, but healing was happening and it was not really interfering with my job. Eight months ago I fell, redamaged the shoulder, increasing the injury and setting the recovery time back.

There was a little twitch in the back of my head that I needed to get a closer look at what was happening in the shoulder. I discovered there is damage that is permanent. So much that can be progressive in it’s destruction. At some point I will be faced with the very real possibility of surgery. But it will never be the same. There is now always some awareness of pain, sometimes it is background noise, sometimes it is so much at the forefront I can’t think. It is weak in certain ways, it makes sounds, it gets hot, it gets stuck. It now has begun to interfere with my job.

I am so lucky that I have more skills to explore and I don’t think (hope) I will have to fully stop being a massage therapist. But I am facing change. I was hopeful for a long time that with a few minor adjustments and strengthening I could be mostly back to myself. Over the last couple of months, the schedule I have been trying to keep and the daily demands I need to fulfil have shown me that I need to be realistic about what I need to/ can do.

Self care has been only consistent in the actual getting of massage, which keeps me working, and I have come to discover after missing the odd regular one that it has an incredible impact on my mental health. It is amazing to me to have had the academic/clinical impression for years of what massage is capable of but until it is experienced out of need I never really understood what a life line ie can be. I am trying to get back to how diligent I was before this happened, but I know it is hard to step out of the defeatist mind. It hurts so I can’t, well if I can’t exercise I will eat the sweet junk food that brings short term comfort, I will be angry and I will begin the cycle again.

I try to exercise but am frustrated that I can not do what I could two years ago, that it fatigues faster and can not lift what it could. Where I could see six or seven clients in a day comfortably, I find now a max of four unless I am willing to compromise the quality of what I do and create a discomfort that gives me a hard time sleeping. Add that into some of my teaching responsibilities and that number I am able to do decreases.

Everyone around me is trying to be so encouraging. “You have other things you can do.” “It’s not like you have to quit all together.” I know this is meant to make me feel better but it doesn’t.

I have worked very hard to build what I have, the relationships I have, the business I have. I know that cutting it back is not the end, but it means I am not going to be the therapist I was, the one that these people have all come to rely on. I thought it would also make me feel better if I built in some referrals that could fill in for me if my hours are too restrictive, I believe I have made great recommendations, but can’t help feeling like I have failed these people somehow. And what if I am wrong, and it proves that I actually can no longer massage at all? what about then?

It will also take time for the new skills to generate any income. So what am I supposed to do there? Bills, mortgage, school fees and life doesn’t wait.

I know people are meant to be kind, encouraging and supportive, but when I try to express genuine fear, disappointment and grief over this forced change I am given the ‘there, there’ treatment. It is well meaning I know. But damn it! This fucking sucks.

I hurt, my hands get stiff, my shoulder burns and aches so much. I’ve been so proud of what I have accomplished in this realm and do not feel like I am done yet. There are times, as I try to envision and get excited about what comes next that I feel the hot tears well up, the deep sadness in my heart that takes over everything. Add to that the frustration of the chronic pain. It can drive you mad. I cry. By myself, but the tears spill fast. What I need is for this to be seen, not with a bright side at this moment, but allow me to grieve, to be angry, recognize this fucking blows! Let me be disappointed, hug me, be empathetic, be disappointed with me- I will feel better when I have made peace, but I am not there.

I love my career, I love what I have built. I am fighting as hard as I can to maintain my place here, to take care of those that have honoured me with their trust. I know in my heart they all care for me as well. Today the pain has defeated me, made me tired, made me unsure. Tomorrow I will get up and try again, keep trying for as long as I have it in me. It is a big part of who I am.

Friends, Choices, Monsters

Sometimes I admire people who appear to have a lack of empathy, a lack of concern for others.
There are times I wish I could not feel, worry, care or hurt. Times I wish I could scream fuck this and fuck you and not care where the chips land.
But I’m not. I crave understanding ( and to be understood). The why, the how, the scope of experience that created the situation. Motivation for causing pain. Motivation for dropping seeds of deliberate discord in situations.
I try so hard to understand why I spend time on these considerations, when it seems very few around me do, other than wanting to use my anxiety disorder as an excuse for how they treat me. But rarely as a reference for understanding and empathy.

This often plays into my anxieties when I can’t get answers, my monsters will twist and pick apart a situation, creating a space for me to want to make it better at huge cost, and/or creating such paranoia that the train derails into not trusting anyone’s motivation in my life.

There is plenty of ideas out there that it can be a conscious decision. Hanging on or letting go is something to be decided- you are only stuck if you believe you are. Let go of attachment. Let go of resentment. Let go of hurt. Sounds easy. But it’s far from that.

Friends: reason season lifetime

My life in the last few years had been a whirlwind of self discovery, change, growth, dismantling and creation.
Hitting middle age and deciding to break out of toxic patterns and explore myself and the world around me has been fraught with more pain ( and beauty) than I thought.

I’ve always adored that I had a close knit crew around me. We would get together often, laughs, drinks, interesting conversation, shared life events. I believed these people would all do their best to support me as I believed I did for them.

The flux was hard, but I relied on my sisterhood to keep me standing. The long-standing friendships, the new ones being built.
We are a few years past the marked start of my passing into what I feel is my rightful version of Womanhood. So much unforeseen. While I relied on my ‘sisters’ to be my sounding boards, I believed they also understood the scope from where I was speaking. That if they believed I was far misguided in my journey they would nudge me in the right direction, not insinuate themselves into it covertly and create far more destructive vibrations.

In amidst much stuff going on, I was made aware of some things that had been put into play. These well placed and seemingly ‘concerned’ statements as well as bolder actions created a much more uncomfortable situation that did not need to exist. That, in hind sight, I should have dealt with far less humorously than I did.
I had to first deal with a fall out that came with the immediate situations. I pushed passed the hurt I felt at the time to find my footing.
But I soon realized that what had happened made me question many things. Question myself and how I am perceived. I found myself having to explain who/why I am in ways I never thought I would. I took for granted, that as people got to know me, it would be identified that my life had shaped me into a deeply feeling, dramatic, sometimes intense human. Never setting out to harm, confuse or bring ill-intent, just working at connections, depth and discovering parts about myself that I thought were pretty interesting. But all of this was framed poorly and misrepresented. When the far reaching scope came into focus I was embarrassed, humiliated and beyond hurt.

I initially tried to apply understanding and compassion- what was going on in this person’s life that warranted this interference? Was it all a misunderstanding? Considering they had mostly withdrawn from me long before this all took place, I could not fathom why they spoke from an unknowing place.

I tried asking, this being very hard for me, given my anxiety issues, but I tried. This was met with a nothing, no defence, no denial, no explanations, no outright admission, no compassion for the position I was in, or the amount of trouble this caused in my life.

So, I made a conscious decision of letting it go, there would be no answer, no resolution. Separate as best I could. Trust the healing with those that desired it.
I have to grieve the friendship that meant so much to me.

Yet it’s hard, because the spiderweb connections that bind us are still very present. I tried to do the adult thing and not ask for sides to be taken. But I think in the process I have underplayed how much this has shaken and wounded me. I was (this is a piece of my anxiety) hopeful that others that are around me would rally, be protective and let it be known it was not acceptable. I was (am) not looking for any grand gesture, any big confrontation on my behalf, but I never asked, it never happened.

The hurt surfaces every so often. I try to not get into the victim mentality. Sometimes the lines of the web seem purposely tweaked, so I’m made aware of the ties that still bind, I can’t help but feel that this is a personal poke. It awakens the hurt, anger and humiliation.
I can see where it has shaken my trust and perception of myself, others. My circle, my clan I adore, feels wobbly.
In light of this and a few other issues, my once open door, full table and social house has closed down to almost nothing.

I miss it, them, the beauty of my whole village coming together, the sense of belonging. I second guess motivation, perception and intent. I panic if I think mine has been misperceived.
There are still many in my circle I love, and would ferociously defend, and hope that they feel the same.
Even though I have made the decision to no longer fucking care ( as I screamed at the ether)- putting into practice is much harder than I realize. It is continual reminders, self talk and forgiveness. To be ok with still feeling hurt, angry, and grieve. To work at no expectation that anyone else will care that this is how I periodically feel. Someday I hope to be done with it. Someday I hope I heal from the wound. I hope that the shakiness I feel will subside and my confidence will return to what it should be. I hope to take my power back.

I believe in sisterhood
I believe in kindness
I believe in love
I believe to not compete but to uplift
I believe to build up not tear down
I have to believe