I Am Not Ok

Today I broke.

It’s been along time coming, this is beyond the ‘ugly’ cry. This was pure unadulterated rage and disappointment.

Curled up in the corner of the tub, hot water running over me, mixing with the hot tears streaming down my face. The rhythm from the water providing a background to the guttural howl ripping through my throat

Today I can’t. Yet I have to.

Dangled carrot of some normality my brain is refusing, for fear of let down

Trying to reconcile how we treat each other vs the good game most of us talk

Crushed by the weight of constant uncertainty, distrust, disappointment

The chronic pain I thought I had a handle on, has been chipping away at my ability to do my self care, my life

Screaming into the void

Feeling like I’m saying the same thing over and over, on deafness it falls

Today wrap me in softness, sit with me, allow me to cry, allow me to rage, allow me to hurt and not feel guilty for it.

I’m not asking for a fix, I’m not wanting pity.

I’m not wanting to hear it will get better

I don’t want to hear how strong I am.

Today I’m asking to be heard, loved, validated as is. Because today I’m not ok.

15 Months

I see you.

It’s wearing on you. The things that have been emotionally and mentally pushing down on you are starting to seep out.

The mental exhaustion from not knowing from minute to minute what’s coming, what the right thing, the safe thing is to do.

The emotional weariness from bearing witness to the constant ignorance, violence and disconnect.

It is so full inside of you that you are numb, detached as a way of preservation.

Yet, there are dull headaches, your appetite is all over, sleep waivers between thick to nonexistent but no rest to be found. Restlessness but no drive.

And then the pain, this is a manifestation of the heart, soul and mind. Dull stiffness in the joints, a deep ache in the muscles, a sensitive tenderness woven into the skin.

Words can not replace soothing touch.

Electronics can not replace the energetic connections of being together. We are told ‘just a little longer’. Hollow sounds they’ve become

Some days are ok. Some days are hell.

I’m here with you. I see this. I feel this.

The Sixteenth Card

When do you call time?

Jam your hands and feet against the wall

Brace against the fall.

STOP

Enough now, it’s time.

From a distance what you’d have witness would be this.

A beautiful scene. Tall tower, blue sky-

The cracks began to show.

In a blink fire, explosion

The tower collapses

Ruble everywhere.

STOP

The destruction is done, no more

The air acrid with smoke- the tower has fallen

The sky blotted out, the tower is no more.

The landing was painful

I am not unscathed

There is blood, breaks, putrid wounds

Tears, fear, a heavy heart

STOP

Stillness, let it settle, let the pieces fall

Time to clean wounds, set the breaks

Wipe the soot from my eyes.

The lightening dark, clearing of smoke.

This hurts, but it’s purifying

Dissolve to ash.

STOP

Time to start again, from the elements

Air, Water, Fire, Earth,

Spirit

Weave together, first form the heart

Then breath.

Bone, nerve, muscle

Skin- sensation

Brain, thought, creative, memory

Ahh memory and wisdom

Those scars I’ll bear

BEGIN

Pressure

You would have been 80 tomorrow. Mother’s Day was yesterday. It has been 36 years.

This is my background noise. Grief, a longing for something I may never have had. The forefront is just a mass of confusion. One I would like to talk to you about.

I thought I had an idea of who I was. I thought I knew the trajectory I was on. And as I sit here, in the ‘day between’ reminders, the month before the 37th anniversary of loss, all I can think is I don’t know.

I don’t know what comes next

I don’t know if I will ever be rid of pain

I don’t know what will happen with my career

I don’t know where I am going

I don’t know if I am parenting adequately

I don’t know if I can heal some of these old wounds

I don’t know who I am

The picture I created in my heart and mind of what I would be when I passed ‘the date’ (you know, the one where I finally became my own adult, the one where I out lived you)

It lasted for a brief time.

I was in adventure mode- I felt strong, unlimited, interesting, amused.

And as fast as that fire was lit- poof- it was dampened

Fear? Pushback? Fall prey to old patterns? Punishment?

I blurred my edges to try to fit. I did not know how to temper my excitement at feeling the most like me I had ever felt. So I apologized. I blurred. I asked. I apologized some more- but it was empty, I had gotten too blurry to matter. I had created and allowed this.

To try to change, I have stripped bare my self- open to examination, picking through. There are more questions than answers. What will it take to sharpen my edges?

This is what I would ask you. I would ask you if you ever felt this? Would you have a story for me? A lesson or example to share. Would you tell me to find my muchness? This phantom conversation plays in the background, like a wish within the chaos.

Is this aging? Is this emerging? Is this crazy? Is this healing?

It is transforming, to what?

I don’t know

Dark Dismantling

We all have something that we are terrified of. Something that we dread, that we push from our minds, that lays in wait in the dark places.

Sometimes it’s rational fears, sometimes it may appear to be irrational. Sometimes it’s a rational fear that has grown so large it can’t be contained to an ‘appropriate’ size.

I know I’m not the only one struggling. It’s getting harder to speak up because it seems there is no space. Everyone has something. We are all so starved to be heard, validated and soothed. Yet it seems there is very few to listen.

But here I sit in the predawn hours wrestling some of my very specific monsters.

Parts of my career are in flux.

The part where I do not work for myself has me shaken and insecure about my abilities due to ‘ratings on a score card’, the cold devalued feeling that my contributions are now subpar. The removal of any feeling of team. No human emotional considerations, conversations or care.

I wrestle with how my body is not able to tolerate the physical exertion of my career ( where I do work for myself in service of others) to the extent I used to be able to work.

I am still capable, but where my comfort number was 6 it’s now 3-4.

Constant pain to varying degrees.

This is coupled with trying to figure out other parts of my life, relationships with others and myself. I am turned inside out. My contents scattered. My identity wrapped in questions. The assurance I used to get from what I thought I knew, what I thought I was…… no longer valid. Detached

Is this the darkest part of the journey? ( at least until death?) and who is going to come out the other side? Who will shine the light during my dark dismantling?

And here I am (not)

There was a young child whose start in life had a hand over her mouth.

Be a good girl and don’t cause problems

Be a good girl and do what you are told

There was a young girl whose entry into puberty had a hand over her mouth

Be a good girl and don’t rock the boat

Be a good girl and stop talking so much

There was a young woman whose entry into young adulthood had a hand around her neck

Be a good girl and it won’t hurt so much

Be a good girl and just be what you are told

There was a woman whose entry into full bloom is being marked by tearing at the hand shaped scars that conceal her voice

She is a good woman

She listens closely

She has ridden the wave and broke through the surface

She whispers when she should scream

She bears the scars of the wounds seen and unseen

She tried to be everything that she was asked

and found she was nothing, it did not make her worthy

Illuminate

I asked
Show me what to change
Show me what is missing
Show me what remains

I began to dig in the dirt- take the monuments apart
I took a moment to listen to my heart – the whispers buried in the rubble
I appreciated what appeared- if only for a moment.

I sighed
It will take patience
Nothing, for it is within me and in front of me
It may not be where I want it, but trust it will be when I need it most

The Heart of an Empath

My wounds are such, that when I see them reflected in you, my response is one to want to heal you. To shelter you and let you know there is better.

My desire for connection and the mutual exploration of the deep does not fit.

I am to be taken in doses, as I see I am too much, or is it not enough?

I am told my need to help is not normal, by some even unwelcome- no matter the intent.

Do we not all have the desire to help each other? To care for and nourish each other?

To bathe the wounds in kindness, love and acceptance?

I do not understand why I don’t fit here.

Birthday

The night before.

I have so much in my head.

I’m sitting thinking of what this night may have been like for my mom.

I’m thinking about how she never got to see this number for herself.

I’m thinking about how I’m not sure I’ve done enough with this gift of time.

I’m thinking about who I want to be

I’m thinking about who I am

I’m thinking about the things that have broken my heart.

I’m thinking about the things that have bandaged my heart.

I’m thinking about what kind of cake there might be tomorrow.

Happy Birth Day 💜

It’s coming….. pre birthday thoughts

Have you ever been nervous? Not that little bit of jittery catch my breath kind of nervous, but the kind that parallels anxiety so deeply you don’t know if you’re experiencing exhilaration or just an abject ripping apart of your heart and soul.

Every year as my birthday rolls around, this seems to be the overwhelming feeling growing as each year passes.

I try to distract myself with people, places, activities.

But Covid has seen to the fact that I don’t have my distractions, the shut down not only of the world at large, but of peoples minds and hearts because they’re overwhelmed, can at times make it feel like I’m adrift calling out to empty echoes.

I don’t say this for pity, I say this is fact. We are all on survival and I am not special.

Most think that each birthday I have lived should be a victory lap, for the cycles I have tried to break, for making it to an age that I hadn’t really pictured.

I do see each year as a gift, a gift of time with my family, a gift of time to be able to have purpose in the world, to do good things, to help people as best as I can.

But this year, this godforsaken year has been so hard. So many right things to be trying to do, Politic, health and relationship building. Trying to adapt and adjust my own career to what comes next, what I’ll find fulfillment with, where I’ll find my spark.

And today as I sit and look out at the blue sky, and try to fill the landscape of my day with something to make my heart happy, all I can really feel is exhaustion with the underlying electric current of nervousness.

I’m not sure what comes next, I really don’t think anybody is. I just don’t want to lose my drive to get there. Give in to the pain my body feels as I’m trying to coax it to strength and flexibility. Give in to the high anxiety I have been battling. To keep to the positive things I’m trying to do. Who do I want to be, where will I be and who will be with me, this next turn of the wheel? The dogs that are my coffee dates this morning hold no answers.

These are the thoughts I have over coffee before my day begins, I will go to nature, I will touch the ground, I will be thankful for what I have, and remind myself of the joy of curiosity of what’s to come.