Monday, September 17, 2018

Calgon, take me away!

I realize that this is belated... and if I was going to do this, given that my children are now 18, 18, and 17, I probably should have started years earlier...  but I have decided that, from now on, I'm just going to take September off from life.

A deserted island. A solitary beach. Definitely a maid and a chef.

And a bartender.

It's been a rough week for the beginning of school... full of unexpected twists and turns.  Grief, unexpected situations, anxiety, counselling, starting community college, withdrawing from an old school, registering in a new one, disappointed hopes, a freaking lot of barking.

I'm pretty good at being a mom, you guys... but JE-SUS.

P.S. This graphic made me laugh for reals.

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Becoming at peace

In the end, I guess it doesn't matter. I've known that I would end up here for two years. I just didn't know how or when or what it would entail in the end.

I've been so butt-dumb vague for now that this probably doesn't even make sense to most people. And to those that it does, it's either understandable or it's not, and I couldn't do anything about that anyway without betraying myself.

I genuinely don't want anyone to be disappointed in me. But I want to be disappointed in me even less. I can only go down my own road, even if I'm the only one on it.

And I'm afraid that sounds all mad and defiant - but it's not. I've just realized how it has be, and am striving to be at peace with a different direction.

Friday, August 24, 2018

Leaning in

I've tried not to hurry through this. Brene Brown talks about leaning into the discomfort -- letting yourself feel it, not skipping the grieving in order to get to the healing.  I think that I do that a lot. My logic brain kicks in (though my husband would probably argue that my logic brain doesn't show up very often), and I rationalize the grief, the sadness, the disappointment until I will myself to just move on.

I'm a good "shove it under the rug"-er.

But I think you rob yourself of something when you hurry through the discomfort.  Healing has to be better than avoiding and pretending. So, though I'm not very good at it, I've tried to let myself hover a little bit.  To take my time, to let myself be sad, to let myself feel the regret, to understand the disappointment and what it is I'm disappointed in.  To allow the disappointment to exist without trying to run in and fix it.  To admit that it isn't really fixable.

While that's been slower... I think it's made it easier to let go of.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

Self-Blame vs Disappointment

Back in January, I was reading a book, and it was talking about the difficulties that some people have in letting go of relationships. There was so much in this section of the book that felt familiar to me.  The author described how many times, instead of leaving, you find reasons to stay -- particularly by taking up residence in self-blame. If you can make you the problem, then you can fix the problem.  More or less.

He went on to state something that I've found myself thinking about a lot, off and on, ever since:

One way you can liberate yourself from this kind of self-criticism is by confronting a feeling you've probably come to fear more than you realize: disappointment.

Disappointment doesn't seem like much at first.  The first time I read it, I almost skimmed past it.  Anger and hurt and resentment sound like more important emotions -- like their immediate potency makes them more valid. Disappointment sounded like a throwaway.  But as I read on, I returned to it and let it sink in.

I would rather be angry.  If I'm being honest. Anger is protective and eventually burns out... disappointment has to be faced and accepted and dealt with.

That has been harder.

Rethinking Narcissism, Dr Craig Malkin

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Don't be disappointed in me

For a good number of years, the well-meant advice was to not open the box. It wasn't a good idea, I'd regret it, it wasn't a healthy thing to do.  But I was stubborn, and I thought I wanted what was in it, and so I merrily went about opening it anyway, but with a litany of reasons to explain of why I was willing to ignore the advice, why I was willing to accept the risk, why I wasn't an idiot.

Because, I think, more than anything...  I loved those people who gave me the advice, and I didn't want them to be disappointed in me.

Fast forward a few years, and I shamefully admit that they were probably right.  It wasn't a good idea, it wasn't a healthy thing for me to do, what was in the box wasn't as great as I thought it would be.  I'm carefully trying to put the lid back on it and set it in the corner, but find myself with a similar need that I had before. I want to explain because...

... because I don't want anyone to be disappointed in me.

Maybe because I'm a little disappointed in me, too.  For which thing, I'm not entirely sure - or maybe it's for all of them.

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