Awkward Tales From the Shadow Side – for the child that was me, for the child I have, for the children lost and not yet found

There’s so many things crashed inside my head right now. The weight of the world seems to be bearing down today, I’m not a damn thing I can do about it.

Universally I feel devastated today, I can’t help but think how we have undercut and undervalued whole peoples because they were different. I think of the thousands of Indigenous children who were stolen, abused, and murdered. I think of all the parents and families that felt that missing piece, who feel that missing piece and that there is no way to make this right. The best we can do is shine a light.

Universally I feel crushed by this never ending pandemic, the reality of how it affects mental health. How exhausting it is, to be in a push/pull of society between trying to do what’s best for the ‘we’, with out a heavy cost to the ‘me’.

Today I also feel in my own personal heart space a confusion of heaviness. Grieving for the devastated child that still resides in me.

As I am on the cusp of parenting a newly minted teen ( in less than 72 hours she will officially enter the teens), I feel so much loss and grief. I did not really expect it. I did not expect to remember the loneliness I felt at her age. The fear. The deep abandonment of loosing my Mom the year before and an absent alcoholic father.

I feel lost now. How do I parent her? How do I protect her from the horrors of this world, that I keenly experienced? How do I know if it is the right guidance- what she needs VS what I needed/wanted at that age. Her situation is so very different than mine. I try to never impose the ‘me’ needs over the reality that she is not me and she has different needs. That was good until she surpassed me at still having both parents, intact and present.

I had tried to set up much in the way of distraction today, but it all has fallen apart.

So into my head I will stay, for just a little while, I’ll listen to the little girl with the wounded heart. Who is still so frightened and alone. Who navigated a dangerous place and came out with scars and wounds yet to be healed. But grew into someone mostly intact, praise her for growing into a loving mother who cares, who worries, who’s willing to grow.

I will go stand in the sun, and remind myself that even though I did it alone, my daughter isn’t. That she is a fortunate one, not like the thousands of children still not yet found but always cherished.

I know that if I lead with my heart and that she knows I’m leading with my heart, it will all be OK. And in the future, hopefully, she won’t be sitting on a warm fall day, with tears on her cheeks, mourning for the child that she was, for the child that felt abandoned and lost and hopeless.

That she will be sitting on a warm fall day with a smile knowing deeply how much she was loved and cherished and protected.

Awkward Tales from the Shadows- The Present Reality Needs Change

Change.

Change in the midst of chaos.

The only static thing you can rely on is change. But it is up to you if it is within or around you, or if you can find the harmony of riding both waves.

I have witnessed some very big and very subtle things. It is hard to put words too. I am seeing extreme fatigue. An increase in body pain and chronic illness symptoms. Complaints of short tempers, brain fog, being ‘over’ emotional, and feeling detached. Wanting to do things to improve the self, craving change of some sort- yet having no motivation, direction or drive to do so.

I have not only witnessed this in my clients, friends and family but also in my own reflection.

It was apparent before the pandemic caused the first shut down, that there were things deep in me that were not aligned, spiritually, physically or mental health wise. I had not yet realized the depth of my burn out. I did not know where to begin. My external relationships felt messy, I was constantly working but feeling like I was not accomplishing much, my anxiety was at an all time high. I had been living in survival mode and I had no idea how long this had been going on. The reserves I had to carry me through this survival living were beginning to slip. My saving grace of writing was lost to me. The comfort I had found in my spiritual practice felt painful and empty. The places I would have sought solace were not there.

In a way, that first shut down was a mixed blessing for me.

Work could no longer be a focus. I was home with my daughter. My husband was fortunate enough to stay working, so he became the designated ‘outside’ person. To work and back and essential shopping. There was no where my daughter and I could really go, we would take the dog to the park, go out to the back yard. She had online school- I had the noise in my head, and I tried to find as much as I could to distract myself.

At first we fell in line with so many other people thrust into this, she did her best to adapt to school and not being with her friends. I jumped into checking in with friends and clients, making bread, making plans of all the things I was going to accomplish while I was off. Then it trailed off… I can’t say for sure what I filled my time with- I didn’t read many books, I binged a few shows but mostly repeats of old favourites. Ate a lot of comfort carbs. Numbed the nagging feelings I was having with food, drink, THC. 15 week’s took forever and passed so quickly at the same time. Before I knew it I was back at work, and another 6 months went by.

More restless, foggy and disconnected. Constant pain, not only from existing injuries I am dealing with but my mental illness creates physical pain that had become a sharp constant. Emotional, angry, and a deep sadness I had not felt since my early 20s. I knew this place, yet I wanted to deny where I was. It might not have been the lowest bottom I have hit before, but I could not see the light. I looked at my daughter and I was so sad that this was the example she had for a mother. I was frightened for her… I felt I had lost myself, and was frightened of what she and her brother could lose too.

For them I had to find it within myself, the energy, the courage to try to come back to me.

Even though it felt like I had been reaching out and asking for help- I was adrift- yet still ‘functioning’. I was working, I was there for my friends, trying to be a good support in the midst of this impossible global situation we have going on. Trying to get educated, use the privileged place, even in my dark moments I was aware I am in. The dispenser of compassion, love, advice and humour. I kept trying tp pull the two opposing pictures of me that exist together.

I found books on not wanting to be an empath, anxiety, CPTSD, children of alcoholics, abuse victims, trying to figure out how all of these things were surfacing now. I started exploring all the reasons how I had gotten here. I had started telling people I was doing my ‘Shadow work’. This was not entirely untrue, I was sticking sharp sticks into wounds that had long been festering. I was hung up on situations from the pre-covid world. A relationship catastrophe, not just one but multiple. I was convinced I was to blame and be accountable for all of it. That the trauma that had damaged me, ruined so much in my life. The refrains of what I had been told- ‘you weren’t you’, ‘you’re too much.’ ‘You’re different’ etc…..echoed constantly in my head. I have explored this hurt in other writings, and there is more to mine I am sure, however as much as this was a catalyst for my undertaking this darker self work, at the time my motivation was wrong. I wanted to ‘fix’ the parts of me that were too much, too different…… I wanted the people I had believed once cared for me to care for me again, not to see me as the bad guy, the ‘different’ one, the one who was the villain in the story.

I began to gain a picture of my ugly side- but because I had not set up proper support to help me find the balance I was overwhelmed with my own accountability and making myself suitable to be forgiven and fix all that I thought was wrong.

In true Witch fashion I have been learning about my place in the world, how it affects me and how I affect it. I grabbed on to my spiritual beliefs, I rallied, I conjured and I prayed. I have been digging deep into my own shadow work. I realized that I was looking in the wrong places for the help I need. I accessed better ways to help me sort all of this out. I realized all the ways I had been punishing myself. I knew this was not the way. This evolved from a deep longing for change. Change in how I feel. Change in my motivation. Change in the patterning. The change I see so many craving on a personal level, community level and global level.

Am I ‘there’? Do I have the answers? Am I healed? No, but I am on a much clearer journey, I have learned so much. I see the value in who I am. I see what I am capable of. I have a more grounded view of my purpose. While I still grieve somethings that were lost, I also know I am not the villain. I am so much healthier in my mind and in my body. I have better tools for when the bad days come, I am better at honouring my self and my time. I can see the magic in this life once more and everyday day I fall deeper involve with it, with myself.

I am excited for what is coming next. I believe that my continuing journey can be of service. That the knowledge and experience I have gained can be helpful to others. That my continuing willingness to learn, seek and evolve may help others find direction on their own journey. I can’t wait to get this officially up and running, added into the work I already do.

Thank you for reading, thank you for being present.

Awkward Tales from the Shadows- Pain Contemplation

‘You deserve to be pain free.’

This statement has been sitting with me for a few days. A simple statement. One that felt like it had been in a foreign language I had never heard. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I hadn’t believed it to be true. A statement that pierced something deep- my reflex was to just talk/excuse over it. But here it sits, still rolling around my brain like a loose marble.

These last few years have been really hard on my body. I have been hard on my body.

My mental health monsters cause physical pain.

Past and current injuries sometimes sing in unison, sometimes compete for the lead.

There is not a day where I am not aware of something, burning, aching, stabbing, tightening….

It is not as though I don’t do anything for the pain I feel.

But the levels are now consistent and high enough that over the counter pain relievers don’t do a lot.

I still use them, along with multiple other things to help keep me functioning in my life. I use hot and cold, stretching, topical potions, cbd/thc and massage. Most giving me a few hours of decreased pain, massage being the one that brings better, longer relief, yet still temporary. The one thing I haven’t added in was any form of prescription pain relieving narcotic.

I have a complicated history with most pharmaceuticals. They often don’t do what they are meant to in my body. My genetic history is riddled with mental health and addiction markers. I am very reluctant to use strong pain relievers, especially in the opiate family.

‘You deserve to be pain free’

So why did this statement hit me so hard?

It was nothing I had considered before. My reasoning makes sense in many ways. Worry about side effects, cost and the biggest worry falling into addiction. It has me contemplating my hard stance.

That statement reminded me it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. That with care, consideration and proper support, it is an avenue that may be of service to me.

That gentle statement has led me to contemplating more…..

Do I punish myself? Am I resigned to carry this physical discomfort with restricted relief.? Why is this ok? How do I allow this with myself? Do I feel supported? Where do these barriers come from……

Deeper into the shadows I go for more answers.

When the Levee in My Head Breaks

The screaming in my head leaks out

Every sensation amplified and painful

Control is lost

Monsters move in

I can’t speak words

I cry, rage, fear, disappointment

Irrational

Shaking till it feels like I will explode

Curl tighter and tighter into that ball

‘I’m sorry’ are the only words that can be made of out the mush in my mouth

Why sorry?

For all the things I’ve ever (not) done

For breaking

For being

What triggered this? You want to know- all of it, none of it- the crowded loneliness in my head

The work I’ve done, today feels for naught

I am so far away- what do you need? I’m asked. I don’t know -comes the swift reply

I need this to stop

I need to be truly heard

I need quiet in my head

I need the pain to go away

I need the weight of responsibility lightened

I need to be held together till the shaking stops

I need it to be recognized it was never all mine, even though I took it, it was never all mine

Not praise nor encouragement for accountability

But understanding it’s too much and it was never all mine

I make a deal with the monsters, they can have their space,

just give me enough clarity to keep one foot in front of the other, a thought or two and a dry eye when others are near.

Fix the mask once more- temporarily hope it holds. Ignore the discomfort, swallow the bile building in my stomach.

Let’s just play pretend on more day.

Awkward Tales from the Shadows- Start Point

Other stories on this blog do a decent job of explaining a few things about me. As this journal progresses I imagine so much more will be revealed. But a little back story to what brought me to this ‘start point’.

I’m firmly entrenched in midlife, chronologically but in my head I still feel like I’m in my early 20s- I’d like to think that is perpetuated by my eternal curiosity.

I had a lot of trauma in my younger years. I have GAD ( generalized anxiety disorder) and CPTSD, those two combined at time are a big rollercoaster of hellish fun.

I struggle with chronic pain, some resulting from my mental health issues, some from old injuries and sadly I’m sure some is a little from age.

I am a practicing Pagan, a Grey Witch ( if such a title is needed).

I am a survivor of rape and abuse.

I work as a massage therapist, energy healer, teacher, tarot reader, intuitive and writer.

I am a mother to an incredible teen daughter and a biological mother to an amazing young man.

I am a wife, sister and friend.

I am amazingly strong and easily hurt.

I have hope that seems to stay like a beacon of light even when I feel taken down by despair

How did I come to the ‘dark night’ awakening?

I can not pin point one moment, but a cascade of things.

I dreaded my 40s for as long as I could remember, a fatalistic view really. My mother died at 44, I was 12. That death shadow hung over me, somewhere in my head I had always believed I too would be gone young. To that end, I did enough for my mental health to ‘survive’ to keep a lid on all the poison. I had fooled myself into believing I had a handle on my ‘stuff’. Because honestly could someone who didn’t ‘have it together’ how could I achieve so much?

I thought I had begun to do positive work, building a strong life.

Just after my 45th birthday there was a tipping event involving betrayal, abandonment, humiliation and a break down of self.

I was so lost, just trying to make it through the day and fill the expectations of the roles I play. My anxiety was getting worse, social anxiety symptoms that I hadn’t experienced in years took me down hard. To complicate matters, within a year, as a planet we entered a pandemic that is ongoing and we are feeling the acceleration of the effects of climate change. The darkness and fear was closing in. The grasping of things, friends, comprise of self, use of substances for escape all becoming a sand trap I was silently drowning in.

The cross roads epiphany struck like lightening ‘work through this, find your life spark or face soul and/or real death.’

First came the stacks of books, workshops and podcasts. I journaled, I had recognitions, insight and so much, however the amount of information and emotion surfacing became overwhelming.

Then the inner knowledge I need help filtering the all information in relation to myself. Due to the tipping event I did not feel that anyone in my circle was a reliable source of deep support. Also knowing that I was entering a place of really wanting to be able to observe myself with a ( hopefully loving) critical eye, professional help was needed. This was hard for me, I had not done therapy since I was a kid, I’d always believed I was self sufficient/smart enough to work through my things with books, workshops and podcasts. Finally making that decision, I was choosing self love. The Shadow work was really about to take a deep direction.

And so it began…

What is ‘Awkward Tales From The Shadows’ about?

Hello readers,

Until now this blog has been a stream of consciousness for me, often revolving around my battles with anxiety, some poetry and a few political rants. I’m going to add a couple of other streams of writing. I’m searching for my bravado to start adding some of my fiction to this site, and that will come. But the newest addition is going to come in a journal type format.

It will be identified under the heading of Awkward Tales from the Shadows. This is my journey of healing, determination, acceptance and accountability.

I am aiming to have a narrative about what I’ve actually been doing to work through my dark night ( well a three year night, but who’s counting) of the soul. The Shadow work I’ve undertaken, the revelations that have come from therapy, the revelations that have come from diving into my Pagan spiritual work and the physical work I am undertaking and how all of these things intersect in the relationships I have with others and myself.

I do not have a degree in psychology, I am not a doctor, what works for me, may not be suitable for you, dear reader. I am not writing this as a how to guide, each of our journeys and needs are unique, there is no shame in medications, therapy or any other help or healthy tools you need to grow in your life.

The truths are mine, the perceptions are mine. The losses and victories are mine.

Some people won’t like this, and that’s ok. This isn’t for them. I’m not writing this to punish or blame anyone- we all affect each other. I will not name people outright. But if they’ve had a part in my journey, for good, bad, ugly or a combination of all, then they will appear here. There are wonderful moments and people that have also had an enormous effect in shaping who I am. These are just as important to acknowledge as the trauma side of things. There are things that have happened to me that were not fair, kind or wanted. I do not have false gratitude for these events, but what I am working on is appreciating what I have been capable of doing to survive.

I’m on a mission. For myself, for my children and for anyone that may find a kindred spirit or inspiration in what I’m doing. This may not be easy, it may not be pretty, but I also know it will not all be heavy and dark.

“Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality. One learns so much just from living a lifetime. Share that knowledge with the people you come across, it can only help them in their journeys. Even more important, share your failures so that others will not repeat them.” Jordan Lejuwaan

Things I can not say

That moment when the dam burst 
And you held me tight 
I apologized for breaking
You gently glued the pieces right
That was the first time I could lean 
You offered a shoulder so steady
That was the first time I was seen 
In darkness and in light 
You’ll never know the value of 
What you did for me 
No matter the distance between us 
Always loyal, will I be

Waking in an Anxiety Attack

Wake up from a dead sleep

So many thoughts I can’t grasp one

No breath

Feeling I’m going to split apart

Gulping for air

Fear

The smallest I can go

Arms wrapped around my self

Knees tightly into chest

Nothing slows

The speed of every impulse rushing through

So fast it may just disappear

The fog of everything and nothing

Sickness rises

From a dream? From life?

Try to count

Try to focus

Try to pray

Lose track of the mantra I cling to, to tie me down

Muscles armour, the shell protecting the insides from coming out

Smaller still

Jaw so tightly clenched, small moans escape

Inside the skull deafening screams fill the void

In the darkness I wait for the light to return

No Longer

I no longer fit.

Every title

Every category

you’ve ever given me

no longer applies

by your terms.

In the same breath

to cross my lips

would be

thank you fuck you

It’s been exhausting to

Please

Defy

You –

much is met with indifference

Horror

Admiration

I shrank to meet your comfort

I bloomed for your

Entertainment

I died a thousand times

To be remade in desired image

Ignored

Bled dry

Imprisoned by Worship

Impaled by disdain

I no longer fit

I will grow

I will learn

Defined

by my own Terms

Opaque

Where does this empty come from?

What am I looking for?

Maybe… it’s nothing? But it feels like everything

Why is the validation so needed- to prove I am here? I exist? I made a difference.

I imagine this is what a ghost feels like

A neat anomaly- presence sometimes detected

Rarely seen

Rarely heard

Do they go on day to day? Doing their ghostly things to keep them busy. Hoping for relief from the empty where they are stuck. Do they hang around to see if their existence made a difference? Do they feel the same there as they did in life?

Maybe I am a ghost. Doing ghostly things. Sometimes being heard by those who are sometimes sensitive- sometimes being seen when it’s time for parlour tricks.