I Love this quote...
We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives... not looking for flaws, but for potential. ~Ellen Goodman
Every New Year's eve my husband and I go out to dinner. Just the two of us. We relax and talk about the past year. All the good things...and the bad. Then we talk about what we would like to see the new year bring. Things we'd like to do, places to go, hopes and dreams.
I honestly can't remember the last time I stayed up for midnight, but so enjoy waking up in the morning to a quiet house and the feeling of starting anew.
It has been a tough year for me. The first half seemingly consumed by things in my life emotionally. The toughest for my marriage. The second half more a physical strain with the injury to my back, nerve damage to my leg and foot and my excessive weight gain.
So, yes, I am looking forward to "starting new". A new beginning..... What a concept,so simple really. The ability to just begin again. What my guides have told me time and time again....."Start where you are".
Here... is where I am.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Toughest Things First
I have been mulling it over the last few days as to how to go about these four stepping stones. Which one to tackle first or rather work on all of them at the same time. I am a list person. I love lists. I love to see a list that has been completed and feel accomplishment. My husband laughs at me because if I do something that is not on the list I will add it just to cross it out.
I have found, though, that for me it is much easier to find the thing on the list that is either the hardest or least desirable and I try to do that thing first. Once that one is done the rest is more of a pleasure and I find that the list goes quicker. I don't have that thing hanging over my head still to do.
Of these stepping stones, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, which is the most difficult for me? Definitely right now the physical one is the one I dread the most. So there it is, where I will begin.
I have found, though, that for me it is much easier to find the thing on the list that is either the hardest or least desirable and I try to do that thing first. Once that one is done the rest is more of a pleasure and I find that the list goes quicker. I don't have that thing hanging over my head still to do.
Of these stepping stones, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, which is the most difficult for me? Definitely right now the physical one is the one I dread the most. So there it is, where I will begin.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Four Stones
I take another step forward. Four stones appear. They are both similar and distinctly different.
The first stone I step on has a very large, deep crack running through it. It also has quite a few more lines that vary in depth. I am told that this is my physical stone. The cracks are injuries and illnesses I have had. The big crack is my back at this time.
The second stone has many lines and two big holes. This, is my emotional stone. The holes are from losing my Mom and not having had children. The lines are things that have hurt or disturbed me.
The third stone reminds me of a road map. Many lines going every which way in varying widths and depths. These, I am told, are my thoughts.
The last stone, although there are many lines, is smooth. It is explained to me that this is my spiritual stone. I have had the opportunity to freely explore different thoughts, theories and religions. I have my own belief system that is a wonderful combination of all of these. The stone is smooth because here, I feel settled.
The first stone I step on has a very large, deep crack running through it. It also has quite a few more lines that vary in depth. I am told that this is my physical stone. The cracks are injuries and illnesses I have had. The big crack is my back at this time.
The second stone has many lines and two big holes. This, is my emotional stone. The holes are from losing my Mom and not having had children. The lines are things that have hurt or disturbed me.
The third stone reminds me of a road map. Many lines going every which way in varying widths and depths. These, I am told, are my thoughts.
The last stone, although there are many lines, is smooth. It is explained to me that this is my spiritual stone. I have had the opportunity to freely explore different thoughts, theories and religions. I have my own belief system that is a wonderful combination of all of these. The stone is smooth because here, I feel settled.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Faith
On the stepping stone and thinking.....
Many years ago I was babysitting a five year old little girl and her ten month old brother. I had promised that I would play any game she wanted as soon as I had gotten her brother to bed. She chose Candyland. I believe we had played about eight games in which she had won every one! When I asked her about this, she looked at me with her beautiful big brown eyes in all honesty and said "I asked God for all the right cards". She then told me that I should give it a try, and so I did. Wouldn't you know, I won the next game? I also lost the last three. Time for bed! I have always remembered that evening. What a lesson. The faith of that little girl.
Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase".
How complicated, untrusting and closed minded we have become. Seemingly always having to concern ourselves with what "angle" someone is coming from. I really don't like thinking like that, but what other choice is there? After hurting my back, I went to two different doctors for their opinions. When I got to one of the offices there was the usual stack of paperwork to fill out before being seen. Three different places on these forms for this one doctor I was asked who my attorney was. How sad.
I feel more comfortable putting my faith in the unknown of the spiritual world rather than the human world. It maybe unknown, but I know what I'm getting.
Many years ago I was babysitting a five year old little girl and her ten month old brother. I had promised that I would play any game she wanted as soon as I had gotten her brother to bed. She chose Candyland. I believe we had played about eight games in which she had won every one! When I asked her about this, she looked at me with her beautiful big brown eyes in all honesty and said "I asked God for all the right cards". She then told me that I should give it a try, and so I did. Wouldn't you know, I won the next game? I also lost the last three. Time for bed! I have always remembered that evening. What a lesson. The faith of that little girl.
Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase".
How complicated, untrusting and closed minded we have become. Seemingly always having to concern ourselves with what "angle" someone is coming from. I really don't like thinking like that, but what other choice is there? After hurting my back, I went to two different doctors for their opinions. When I got to one of the offices there was the usual stack of paperwork to fill out before being seen. Three different places on these forms for this one doctor I was asked who my attorney was. How sad.
I feel more comfortable putting my faith in the unknown of the spiritual world rather than the human world. It maybe unknown, but I know what I'm getting.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Beginning To See
It has been a few days. Normally I am already feeling stressed with the holiday hustle and bustle. Gotta get this done. Gotta mail that, go here, be there.... Not so much this year. I guess I attribute it to a couple of things.
First would be my back. Having hurt it earlier this year, there are things that I would normally do, but am not this year. Things like totally transforming my home into a Christmas wonderland. Every room has a different theme like santas, snowmen, music boxes etc. Although I am missing the changes and lights, I'm not missing the work. Especially the trips up and down the stairs. We also didn't have the normal party here. I miss the people. It was always a good time, just had to say no this year.
Secondly, I am almost done with the shopping and running around and it's only December 6th!! That, in and of itself, is a wonderful thing for me. I have a few more things to bake and a few more things to wrap and mail and I am done.
I do feel, however, the absolute most important change in my feelings is indeed the fact that I now recognize all of that baggage that I no longer feel I need to carry around. I feel more at peace....lighter, if you will. I am now better able to focus on and accomplish things seemingly without stress.
It seems as though I was carrying a lifetime of hurts, emotions, losses and bad memories. These things I now realize were not helping me get to where I want to go, but holding me back. I was confused in the fact that I believed that I needed to carry all of these things from one step of my journey to the next in order to learn from them. This is so not true. Instead the lesson has been to step away with the experience and lessons only, not the burdens.
There are but three things that I still feel that I can't lay down right now. Maybe because I haven't learned these lessons yet. They are the issues with my back, my weight and my short term memory loss lately. I am in hopes that the memory thing is just an effect of the medication and will improve now that I have stopped taking that particular drug. The others I guess I'll just have to wait until the next stepping stone becomes available. Until then...
First would be my back. Having hurt it earlier this year, there are things that I would normally do, but am not this year. Things like totally transforming my home into a Christmas wonderland. Every room has a different theme like santas, snowmen, music boxes etc. Although I am missing the changes and lights, I'm not missing the work. Especially the trips up and down the stairs. We also didn't have the normal party here. I miss the people. It was always a good time, just had to say no this year.
Secondly, I am almost done with the shopping and running around and it's only December 6th!! That, in and of itself, is a wonderful thing for me. I have a few more things to bake and a few more things to wrap and mail and I am done.
I do feel, however, the absolute most important change in my feelings is indeed the fact that I now recognize all of that baggage that I no longer feel I need to carry around. I feel more at peace....lighter, if you will. I am now better able to focus on and accomplish things seemingly without stress.
It seems as though I was carrying a lifetime of hurts, emotions, losses and bad memories. These things I now realize were not helping me get to where I want to go, but holding me back. I was confused in the fact that I believed that I needed to carry all of these things from one step of my journey to the next in order to learn from them. This is so not true. Instead the lesson has been to step away with the experience and lessons only, not the burdens.
There are but three things that I still feel that I can't lay down right now. Maybe because I haven't learned these lessons yet. They are the issues with my back, my weight and my short term memory loss lately. I am in hopes that the memory thing is just an effect of the medication and will improve now that I have stopped taking that particular drug. The others I guess I'll just have to wait until the next stepping stone becomes available. Until then...
Friday, December 3, 2010
It Eludes Me Still
I guess that for the most part, other than the psychic stuff, I have always been more literal in most cases. I need to see things (which I do psychically most times). This, I'm not quite getting. For whatever reason, it is not sinking in. Oh great, I finally get through the door and am stumped and stopped on the first thing.
"Patience. Now take a step back" I am told. "First word that comes to mind".
Oddly, the word comfortable comes to mind.
"When was the last time you felt this way"?
It's been so long. I can't remember ever feeling this way.
"See what weight the baggage has? See how it clouds things"?
Yes.
"Okay then, let us begin. You are now free. As you look around yourself right now, what do you see"?
Nothing and yet everything. No beginning. No end. Just me, here.
"Exactly! Now expand on this thought".
There is nothing but now. Behind me matters not. Ahead of me is endless, limitless.
"Perfect! Now you can see what things have been clouding your thoughts and weighing you down. These things, as you say, that matter not. Now it is up to you to remember this in your daily life and start living it".`
"Patience. Now take a step back" I am told. "First word that comes to mind".
Oddly, the word comfortable comes to mind.
"When was the last time you felt this way"?
It's been so long. I can't remember ever feeling this way.
"See what weight the baggage has? See how it clouds things"?
Yes.
"Okay then, let us begin. You are now free. As you look around yourself right now, what do you see"?
Nothing and yet everything. No beginning. No end. Just me, here.
"Exactly! Now expand on this thought".
There is nothing but now. Behind me matters not. Ahead of me is endless, limitless.
"Perfect! Now you can see what things have been clouding your thoughts and weighing you down. These things, as you say, that matter not. Now it is up to you to remember this in your daily life and start living it".`
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Next Door
Today I stand before the door. I am filled with excitement and anticipation. It seems that I've been waiting for this a long time. Two and a half years to be exact. At first I feel alone, but realize that I am not. My spirit guide is with me as he always is. I turn the handle and the door easily opens inward towards the right.
It is dark and it takes eyes a moment to adjust. Before me is a large, almost flat brown stepping stone floating in the air. Beyond the stone seemily nothing, just some small white lights scattered about. Although I didn't quite know what to expect, certainly this is not it. This reminds me (for those of you old enough to remember)of the old Twilight Zone shows with Rod Serling. Remember the door that opened into nowhere? There was only blackness and stars?
I feel the urge to step out onto the stone and as I do, the door seemily falls away behind me. I take a deep breath and try to relax enough to clear my head. Thoughts start to slowly fill my head. "This is your journey" "You are a very powerful being" "You are not alone" "Just ask" "Things are not as they seem" and so on. These are not my thoughts yet they fill my head. Then I realize that as I look at the various lights each one has a different message. Interesting. I also somehow know that these are all next steps in my own journey and I can access these anytime I choose. Kind of like a personal spiritual library of sorts.
I think, where do I start? Seemingly instantly all of the lights form a line in front of me like car lights at night on a busy street. The first light is before me and the words "Start where you are" begin to swim in my head. It feels intoxicating and I smile and think "but of course, how simple".
It is dark and it takes eyes a moment to adjust. Before me is a large, almost flat brown stepping stone floating in the air. Beyond the stone seemily nothing, just some small white lights scattered about. Although I didn't quite know what to expect, certainly this is not it. This reminds me (for those of you old enough to remember)of the old Twilight Zone shows with Rod Serling. Remember the door that opened into nowhere? There was only blackness and stars?
I feel the urge to step out onto the stone and as I do, the door seemily falls away behind me. I take a deep breath and try to relax enough to clear my head. Thoughts start to slowly fill my head. "This is your journey" "You are a very powerful being" "You are not alone" "Just ask" "Things are not as they seem" and so on. These are not my thoughts yet they fill my head. Then I realize that as I look at the various lights each one has a different message. Interesting. I also somehow know that these are all next steps in my own journey and I can access these anytime I choose. Kind of like a personal spiritual library of sorts.
I think, where do I start? Seemingly instantly all of the lights form a line in front of me like car lights at night on a busy street. The first light is before me and the words "Start where you are" begin to swim in my head. It feels intoxicating and I smile and think "but of course, how simple".
Monday, November 29, 2010
Awakening Back to Basics
Before I can move on, I feel that I must review the basics. I must check the foundation for cracks and make any repair necessary. So, what have I learned? What do I believe that I feel that I need to review?
Thoughts are things. I do believe this. I believe that in order to live a peaceful life you must be able to control your thoughts. A tough one for me. My mind is all over the place....always. I could improve on this greatly by being more aware of my thoughts. Catch myself frequently and realize what just went through my mind. Was it good, bad, judgemental, self abusive, etc. I do believe that you create your own world, your own reality. For me, I guess that my thoughts for other people must be warm and inviting and not so much for myself. I realize I have been so focused on my weight going up that it has. I'm going to start thinking about my weight going down and we'll see. Something to think about ....literally.
Intentions. Just as I believe that thoughts are things, I believe that you can create the life that you wish to live along with the friends and things that you desire by simply focusing on them. I believe that if you have bad intentions you live badly. Good intentions, you live well. Your thoughts, your intentions, are manifested into your reality.
Great intentions + UMPH = a wonderful thing.
Matter doesn't matter. I whole heartedly believe in the spirit world. I have never not known spirit around me. Sometimes I'm more comfortable comunicating to them rather than talking to humans here. I believe that spirit want us to be happy and it doesn't matter to them whether we ask for a healing for a loved one or a parking space. I believe that they are there in order to help us through our journey and they are quite happy to help us with whatever our needs happen to be at any particular moment. They just want to be recognized and invited by us to help no matter what. So to them, matter doesn't matter.
Two things. First, if what I'm doing isn't working, stop and rest. Another tough one for me. Patience is not one of my strongest virtues.
I believe though that if I took a step back and the time to stop and rest for a moment I would be better able to see the reason that it's not working. Second, I believe that if what I'm doing isn't working, I should try doing the opposite. It's much easier going with the flow rather than trying to swim against the current, but you have to see it first.
Be bold enough to ask for what want. I do have a hard time with this one. I either feel that I'm not worthy of something, or that it might put someone else out. I was watching my cat the other day while I was petting her. She has absolutely no problem letting me know exactly where she wants me to pet her. She moves her head in order to get exactly what she wants. She is bold enough to let me know what she won't stand for also. I am bold in many ways, maybe I need to let it carry over into my own needs.
Thoughts are things. I do believe this. I believe that in order to live a peaceful life you must be able to control your thoughts. A tough one for me. My mind is all over the place....always. I could improve on this greatly by being more aware of my thoughts. Catch myself frequently and realize what just went through my mind. Was it good, bad, judgemental, self abusive, etc. I do believe that you create your own world, your own reality. For me, I guess that my thoughts for other people must be warm and inviting and not so much for myself. I realize I have been so focused on my weight going up that it has. I'm going to start thinking about my weight going down and we'll see. Something to think about ....literally.
Intentions. Just as I believe that thoughts are things, I believe that you can create the life that you wish to live along with the friends and things that you desire by simply focusing on them. I believe that if you have bad intentions you live badly. Good intentions, you live well. Your thoughts, your intentions, are manifested into your reality.
Great intentions + UMPH = a wonderful thing.
Matter doesn't matter. I whole heartedly believe in the spirit world. I have never not known spirit around me. Sometimes I'm more comfortable comunicating to them rather than talking to humans here. I believe that spirit want us to be happy and it doesn't matter to them whether we ask for a healing for a loved one or a parking space. I believe that they are there in order to help us through our journey and they are quite happy to help us with whatever our needs happen to be at any particular moment. They just want to be recognized and invited by us to help no matter what. So to them, matter doesn't matter.
Two things. First, if what I'm doing isn't working, stop and rest. Another tough one for me. Patience is not one of my strongest virtues.
I believe though that if I took a step back and the time to stop and rest for a moment I would be better able to see the reason that it's not working. Second, I believe that if what I'm doing isn't working, I should try doing the opposite. It's much easier going with the flow rather than trying to swim against the current, but you have to see it first.
Be bold enough to ask for what want. I do have a hard time with this one. I either feel that I'm not worthy of something, or that it might put someone else out. I was watching my cat the other day while I was petting her. She has absolutely no problem letting me know exactly where she wants me to pet her. She moves her head in order to get exactly what she wants. She is bold enough to let me know what she won't stand for also. I am bold in many ways, maybe I need to let it carry over into my own needs.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thanksgiving
I never knew how much I loved Thanksgiving. I knew I loved things like having family visit, watching football, the smell of turkey cooking and a day off from work. Most of all, though, I have found that I love the laughter.
We are not a serious bunch most of the time. One always ready to catch someone else doing something either they shouldn't, silly or just plain stupid. We are a never ending source of entertainment for each other.
Last night both boys one with a girlfriend, my husband and I went to Chicago Sam's for some wings. By the time the wings were served I noticed that I had already been laughing so much that my cheeks hurt! I think that has to be one of my favorite feelings. To know that everyone loves, respects and feels comfortable enough to goof on each other is priceless to me. And let me tell you, there is also no mercy! After we ate we went outside, stood around and laughed quite a bit more about silly things only to be followed by all returning to our home for more loving bantering. I must say that it was one of the best evenings of my life.
When I woke up this morning, I rolled over and yawned. My cheeks still hurting brought a wonderful feeling to my body and a smile to my face. What a way to start the day. What a way to live. I am oh so thankful for all of them.
We are not a serious bunch most of the time. One always ready to catch someone else doing something either they shouldn't, silly or just plain stupid. We are a never ending source of entertainment for each other.
Last night both boys one with a girlfriend, my husband and I went to Chicago Sam's for some wings. By the time the wings were served I noticed that I had already been laughing so much that my cheeks hurt! I think that has to be one of my favorite feelings. To know that everyone loves, respects and feels comfortable enough to goof on each other is priceless to me. And let me tell you, there is also no mercy! After we ate we went outside, stood around and laughed quite a bit more about silly things only to be followed by all returning to our home for more loving bantering. I must say that it was one of the best evenings of my life.
When I woke up this morning, I rolled over and yawned. My cheeks still hurting brought a wonderful feeling to my body and a smile to my face. What a way to start the day. What a way to live. I am oh so thankful for all of them.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Awakening Day Four
Day four. Two days before Thanksgiving. I had forgotten to set my alarm clock. I woke up and looked at the clock. 2:56am. a little late, but not bad. I usually get up at 2:52am.
After my shower I usually sit and meditate for about twenty minutes before I dress and start my day. The house is quiet and I am excited to begin this morning's meditation. I think "a new day, the door awaits".
I sit, close my eyes and take a big relaxing breath. As I sit here, I find that my mind keeps wandering to things I want to do in the next day or two. Not stressed to do, just do. Again and again I try to settle into my few minutes and each time my mind goes back to organizing my time to get things done. As I sit there, I find myself smiling, knowing all too well this is who I am. I feel happy today and a little more settled than I have recently.
I know the door will open soon. It is settling for me to know where the door is. It is within reach.
After my shower I usually sit and meditate for about twenty minutes before I dress and start my day. The house is quiet and I am excited to begin this morning's meditation. I think "a new day, the door awaits".
I sit, close my eyes and take a big relaxing breath. As I sit here, I find that my mind keeps wandering to things I want to do in the next day or two. Not stressed to do, just do. Again and again I try to settle into my few minutes and each time my mind goes back to organizing my time to get things done. As I sit there, I find myself smiling, knowing all too well this is who I am. I feel happy today and a little more settled than I have recently.
I know the door will open soon. It is settling for me to know where the door is. It is within reach.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Awakening the Power Within. Day Three
I get dressed this morning, kinda. The pants I put on only zip half way up. I secretly thank God that I am only working four hour light duty days because of my back, that way I don't have to move much and should be able to make it through. Then the gym. My first day. I have an appointment with a physical trainer. I have successfully transitioned from physical therapy to home/gym. As I sit here before work I am already horrified and humiliated at what I have become physically. It's going to be an embarrassing event for sure. The words "start where you are" fill my head.
I find myself wondering how far? How far back must I go and how will I know when I get there? I am reminded of a part in Portia De Rossi's book. She is talking about binging and purging. She first starts with eating Cheetos so that when it comes time to purge, she knows from the color of the Cheetos that she has gone back all the way. What will my signal be? How will I know when I'm there?
Over the years, I have come up with a meditation that, to me, is a healing meditation. I have always believed that it is to be used to heal me physically. Now I feel that I need it to do more.
I start by walking down a long narrow hallway with a flowing light colored robe on. The building is completely made of stone with little light. As I reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a room about 12'x 15'. The only light comes from a skylight over a long table near the right rear of the room. I go and lie down on the table. Joiia, a master healer, appears at my right side along with many smaller beings with baskets. Joiia reaches into my body and begins removing all of my organs one by one and placing each one into a basket. Next come the bones, muscles, etc. until there is nothing left but my skin which resembles a jumpsuit of sorts and that is then placed into a basket. Oddly, I feel completely intact and can see as each basket is brought outside and placed into a shallow stream of healing water. As the water runs over and flows through all the parts of my body, all negativity and illness is removed. After a long while, the baskets are carefully removed from the water and placed on a strip of beautiful green grass in the warmth of the sun. The sun now restores, regenerates and rejuvenates all the parts of my body. When it is time, the beings return and one by one return the baskets inside where Joiia awaits to lovingly return me to perfection. I then am covered in a beautiful blanket and am told to rest. I then allow myself to fall into a deep sleep. When I awaken, I feel fresh and clean and with filled with energy.
Emotionally I feel the need to purge. The concept is foreign and unknown to me which frightens me more than I can say, but for the first time I also find myself curious. The cup can only hold so much. When full nothing more can be added. It has to be emptied for more to go in. I find myself at the door ready to turn the handle and see what's on the other side. Just where will it lead....
I find myself wondering how far? How far back must I go and how will I know when I get there? I am reminded of a part in Portia De Rossi's book. She is talking about binging and purging. She first starts with eating Cheetos so that when it comes time to purge, she knows from the color of the Cheetos that she has gone back all the way. What will my signal be? How will I know when I'm there?
Over the years, I have come up with a meditation that, to me, is a healing meditation. I have always believed that it is to be used to heal me physically. Now I feel that I need it to do more.
I start by walking down a long narrow hallway with a flowing light colored robe on. The building is completely made of stone with little light. As I reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a room about 12'x 15'. The only light comes from a skylight over a long table near the right rear of the room. I go and lie down on the table. Joiia, a master healer, appears at my right side along with many smaller beings with baskets. Joiia reaches into my body and begins removing all of my organs one by one and placing each one into a basket. Next come the bones, muscles, etc. until there is nothing left but my skin which resembles a jumpsuit of sorts and that is then placed into a basket. Oddly, I feel completely intact and can see as each basket is brought outside and placed into a shallow stream of healing water. As the water runs over and flows through all the parts of my body, all negativity and illness is removed. After a long while, the baskets are carefully removed from the water and placed on a strip of beautiful green grass in the warmth of the sun. The sun now restores, regenerates and rejuvenates all the parts of my body. When it is time, the beings return and one by one return the baskets inside where Joiia awaits to lovingly return me to perfection. I then am covered in a beautiful blanket and am told to rest. I then allow myself to fall into a deep sleep. When I awaken, I feel fresh and clean and with filled with energy.
Emotionally I feel the need to purge. The concept is foreign and unknown to me which frightens me more than I can say, but for the first time I also find myself curious. The cup can only hold so much. When full nothing more can be added. It has to be emptied for more to go in. I find myself at the door ready to turn the handle and see what's on the other side. Just where will it lead....
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Awakening of the Power Within
Day One...
The awakening begins....or at least tries to yet again.
I woke up this morning different. So many things within my head trying to formulate. Anyone who knows me knows that, that in and of itself, can be a very scary thing. And besides, who am I to kid myself, every time I believe I have "IT" figured out for me, "IT" changes. I am then back at the beginning without having rested.
These words and name tumble through my head without form. Power within. Joiia. Quiet time. Relax. Rest. Rejuvenate. Reabsorb. Heal. See.
Day Two
Again I wake up to a head filled with many things seemingly not connected, but I know that they must be. Where to start? I put the water on for my first cup of tea for the day and mindlessly step on the scale like all good anorexics do. 202.2 lbs. Numbly I step off the scale feeling as though I deserve this weight. Its the continual stuffing down of everything for the last thirty years. Heaven forbid I let it out. That is weakness. Anorexia is control. Even though I know the bizarreness of this as I write it, and the weight I have allowed myself to become, it does somewhere within me make perfect sense.
The thoughts in my head randomly each pushing for full attention. I must put them to paper in order to somehow make sense in the future. My constant, Fred and thankfulness. Time to purge, emotionally. Portia De Rossi and Cheetos, My first marriage. Weight. Albuquerque. My healing meditation. The plane crash. The boys. There are more, but for now this list will surfice.
And then the thought...No time for this, it's the week of Thanksgiving! The holiday season has begun. The hustle and bustle, the craziness. No time to get everything done! I feel that I can do one of two things. I can begin this process now as it has presented itself to me, regardless of the timing, or I can do as I have been doing all my life. Seemingly forget about me, stuff everything down or lay it aside for when I have more time and fall into the robotics of life. I say it all the time when I realize a few months, or maybe even years have gone by and I haven't reached out to that good friend, "life happens". Well, yeah it does, but is that really a good excuse?
Earlier this week I made mention to a good friend that I feel as though I look like Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror. Her very powerful response to me was to stop being mean to her friend. And so, maybe regardless of the timing, I start taking care of her friend.
The awakening begins....or at least tries to yet again.
I woke up this morning different. So many things within my head trying to formulate. Anyone who knows me knows that, that in and of itself, can be a very scary thing. And besides, who am I to kid myself, every time I believe I have "IT" figured out for me, "IT" changes. I am then back at the beginning without having rested.
These words and name tumble through my head without form. Power within. Joiia. Quiet time. Relax. Rest. Rejuvenate. Reabsorb. Heal. See.
Day Two
Again I wake up to a head filled with many things seemingly not connected, but I know that they must be. Where to start? I put the water on for my first cup of tea for the day and mindlessly step on the scale like all good anorexics do. 202.2 lbs. Numbly I step off the scale feeling as though I deserve this weight. Its the continual stuffing down of everything for the last thirty years. Heaven forbid I let it out. That is weakness. Anorexia is control. Even though I know the bizarreness of this as I write it, and the weight I have allowed myself to become, it does somewhere within me make perfect sense.
The thoughts in my head randomly each pushing for full attention. I must put them to paper in order to somehow make sense in the future. My constant, Fred and thankfulness. Time to purge, emotionally. Portia De Rossi and Cheetos, My first marriage. Weight. Albuquerque. My healing meditation. The plane crash. The boys. There are more, but for now this list will surfice.
And then the thought...No time for this, it's the week of Thanksgiving! The holiday season has begun. The hustle and bustle, the craziness. No time to get everything done! I feel that I can do one of two things. I can begin this process now as it has presented itself to me, regardless of the timing, or I can do as I have been doing all my life. Seemingly forget about me, stuff everything down or lay it aside for when I have more time and fall into the robotics of life. I say it all the time when I realize a few months, or maybe even years have gone by and I haven't reached out to that good friend, "life happens". Well, yeah it does, but is that really a good excuse?
Earlier this week I made mention to a good friend that I feel as though I look like Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror. Her very powerful response to me was to stop being mean to her friend. And so, maybe regardless of the timing, I start taking care of her friend.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Recognizing The Power Within Me
Day One...
The awakening begins....or at least tries to yet again.
I woke up this morning different. So many things within my head trying to formulate. Anyone who knows me knows that, that in and of itself, can be a very scary thing. And besides, who am I to kid myself, every time I believe I have "IT" figured out for me "IT" changes. I am then back at the beginning without having rested.
These words and name tumble through my head without form. Power within. Joiia. Quiet time. Relax. Rest. Rejuvenate. Reabsorb. Heal. See.
Day Two
Again I wake up to a head filled with many things seemingly not connected, but I know that they must be. Where to start? I put the water on for my first cup of tea for the day and mindlessly step on the scale like all good anorexics do. 202.2 lbs. Numbly I step off the scale feeling as though I deserve this weight. Its the continual stuffing down of everything for the last thirty years. Heaven forbid I let it out. That is weakness. Anorexia is control. Even though I know the bizarreness of this as I write it, and the weight I have allowed myself to become, it does somewhere within me make perfect sense.
The thoughts in my head randomly each pushing for full attention. I must put them to paper in order to somehow make sense in the future. My constant, Fred and thankfulness. Time to purge, emotionally. Portia De Rossi and Cheetos, My first marriage. Weight. Albuquerque. My healing meditation. The plane crash. The boys. There are more, but for now this list will suffice.
And then the thought...No time for this, it's the week of Thanksgiving! The holiday season has begun. The hustle and bustle, the craziness. No time to get everything done! I feel that I can do one of two things. I can begin this process now as it has presented itself to me, regardless of the timing, or I can do as I have been doing all my life. Seemingly forget about me, stuff everything down or lay it aside for when I have more time and fall into the robotics of life. I say it all the time when I realize a few months, or maybe even years have gone by and I haven't reached out to that good friend, "life happens". Well, yeah it does, but is that really a good excuse?
Earlier this week I made mention to a good friend that I feel as though I look like Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror. Her very powerful response to me was to stop being mean to her friend. And so, maybe regardless of the timing, I start taking care of her friend.
The awakening begins....or at least tries to yet again.
I woke up this morning different. So many things within my head trying to formulate. Anyone who knows me knows that, that in and of itself, can be a very scary thing. And besides, who am I to kid myself, every time I believe I have "IT" figured out for me "IT" changes. I am then back at the beginning without having rested.
These words and name tumble through my head without form. Power within. Joiia. Quiet time. Relax. Rest. Rejuvenate. Reabsorb. Heal. See.
Day Two
Again I wake up to a head filled with many things seemingly not connected, but I know that they must be. Where to start? I put the water on for my first cup of tea for the day and mindlessly step on the scale like all good anorexics do. 202.2 lbs. Numbly I step off the scale feeling as though I deserve this weight. Its the continual stuffing down of everything for the last thirty years. Heaven forbid I let it out. That is weakness. Anorexia is control. Even though I know the bizarreness of this as I write it, and the weight I have allowed myself to become, it does somewhere within me make perfect sense.
The thoughts in my head randomly each pushing for full attention. I must put them to paper in order to somehow make sense in the future. My constant, Fred and thankfulness. Time to purge, emotionally. Portia De Rossi and Cheetos, My first marriage. Weight. Albuquerque. My healing meditation. The plane crash. The boys. There are more, but for now this list will suffice.
And then the thought...No time for this, it's the week of Thanksgiving! The holiday season has begun. The hustle and bustle, the craziness. No time to get everything done! I feel that I can do one of two things. I can begin this process now as it has presented itself to me, regardless of the timing, or I can do as I have been doing all my life. Seemingly forget about me, stuff everything down or lay it aside for when I have more time and fall into the robotics of life. I say it all the time when I realize a few months, or maybe even years have gone by and I haven't reached out to that good friend, "life happens". Well, yeah it does, but is that really a good excuse?
Earlier this week I made mention to a good friend that I feel as though I look like Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror. Her very powerful response to me was to stop being mean to her friend. And so, maybe regardless of the timing, I start taking care of her friend.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Control Freak Outta Control
It's been awhile since I've been here. Wish I could say that I've figured things out and am on my way to finishing my life happy and healthy. Not so. Still floundering. Still feeling as though I'm sinking into a dark abyss.
Let me catch you up. June 3rd I hurt my back at work. Up until last week I have been mostly out of work. I now do half days. 5 - 9 am. The first couple of months I was hurting too much and couldn't sit at the computer to write. Then came the various drugs and I didn't much care. Muscle relaxants, anti inflammatories, steroids and such which helped me to get comfortable, relax and clouded my mind. The injury has caused nerve damage in my lower left leg, ankle, foot and toes. This causes various sensations. Anything from numbness to aches to pins and needles to very painful. I also now have "foot drop" and need a brace to keep my foot up so I don't fall as I walk.
In case you haven't figured it out yet. I am a control freak. I am also a control freak that feels totally out of control. Very unsettling and so for my own clarity, I am going to break it down.
Mentally. A couple of things here. I am on a drug called gabapentin for the issues that I am having with the nerve damage in my foot. I just had to increase it. I am feeling very clouded in my thoughts. Can't say I'm liking that. Also, because I feel out of control, everything makes me angry because I can't seem to reel it in. Being back at work arguing everyday with the person that replaced me I find extremely trying. Because of getting hurt, I have been unable to get out and garden. This, the one thing I love to do, that I feel gives me peace of mind, I feel was taken away. That makes me feel violated.
Physically. Many things there right now. The drug makes me feel uncoordinated. I feel like a pinball when I get up in the morning walking down the hall from the bedroom to the kitchen as I bounce off the walls, literally. The brace I wear reminds me that I don't have control over my own body. And then there's my weight issues. I have been binging for the last week (ok, longer than that). A year ago I weighed 164lbs. I weighed 200.8lbs this morning. It's not that I couldn't see it coming. I could, but have been unable to stop it. Hand to mouth. Hand to mouth. Kind of like watching a train wreck happening and knowing that you're not Mighty Mouse in order to stop it. I stand before a mirror and the ugliness overwhelms and depresses me. Being as I am almost 53, gravity is not my friend. The added weight mixed with cellulite and gravitational pull, well unfortunately you get the picture. Again, I am angry with myself. How could I have allowed this to happen? I'm a control freak, remember?
Emotionally. I still feel lost. If you've read any of my earlier blogs you know that is nothing new for me. Except for certain people, I have a hard time connecting to humans. Hell, I can't even fully connect to myself! A good friend recently asked me if I had just allowed myself to stay in bed with a box of Kleenex. No. What an odd concept for me. I couldn't allow myself to do that. Actually, I never remember allowing myself to do that. Even as a child I never remember having one of those meltdowns. Again, I wouldn't be in control. Too scary and at this point, just what might come out? Too overwhelming a thought. Honestly, wouldn't know how to start to do something like that.
Spiritually. Big one for me. Yes, I have my own belief system. No, not conventional by any stretch of the imagination. I thought that this was one place I felt grounded. That was up until a couple of years ago. I do believe that every once in awhile you need to step back and review what your belief system is. What truths you live by. Then, the things that no longer serve you, let them go and find new ones to replace them. This has been, to me, how I would grow. How I felt I would get to the next step in my journey. I have found myself floundering here for a couple of years now. Truths that served my Mom for sixty-five years and me for fifty, not so much right now. I find that scary. I don't know if I'm afraid to see what my new truth might be or honestly, where I might go to begin to look.
And so now, I see that I am in control of absolutely nothing in my life right now. I wonder if I ever was, or have I been kidding myself all these years? Could it be a blessing in disguise? The control freak realizes that she has nothing to hold on to. The control freak needs to let people in her life. The control freak can allow herself to just lay down the reins she has had white knuckled within her grasp for so long, relax, rest.....and be. I wonder....
Let me catch you up. June 3rd I hurt my back at work. Up until last week I have been mostly out of work. I now do half days. 5 - 9 am. The first couple of months I was hurting too much and couldn't sit at the computer to write. Then came the various drugs and I didn't much care. Muscle relaxants, anti inflammatories, steroids and such which helped me to get comfortable, relax and clouded my mind. The injury has caused nerve damage in my lower left leg, ankle, foot and toes. This causes various sensations. Anything from numbness to aches to pins and needles to very painful. I also now have "foot drop" and need a brace to keep my foot up so I don't fall as I walk.
In case you haven't figured it out yet. I am a control freak. I am also a control freak that feels totally out of control. Very unsettling and so for my own clarity, I am going to break it down.
Mentally. A couple of things here. I am on a drug called gabapentin for the issues that I am having with the nerve damage in my foot. I just had to increase it. I am feeling very clouded in my thoughts. Can't say I'm liking that. Also, because I feel out of control, everything makes me angry because I can't seem to reel it in. Being back at work arguing everyday with the person that replaced me I find extremely trying. Because of getting hurt, I have been unable to get out and garden. This, the one thing I love to do, that I feel gives me peace of mind, I feel was taken away. That makes me feel violated.
Physically. Many things there right now. The drug makes me feel uncoordinated. I feel like a pinball when I get up in the morning walking down the hall from the bedroom to the kitchen as I bounce off the walls, literally. The brace I wear reminds me that I don't have control over my own body. And then there's my weight issues. I have been binging for the last week (ok, longer than that). A year ago I weighed 164lbs. I weighed 200.8lbs this morning. It's not that I couldn't see it coming. I could, but have been unable to stop it. Hand to mouth. Hand to mouth. Kind of like watching a train wreck happening and knowing that you're not Mighty Mouse in order to stop it. I stand before a mirror and the ugliness overwhelms and depresses me. Being as I am almost 53, gravity is not my friend. The added weight mixed with cellulite and gravitational pull, well unfortunately you get the picture. Again, I am angry with myself. How could I have allowed this to happen? I'm a control freak, remember?
Emotionally. I still feel lost. If you've read any of my earlier blogs you know that is nothing new for me. Except for certain people, I have a hard time connecting to humans. Hell, I can't even fully connect to myself! A good friend recently asked me if I had just allowed myself to stay in bed with a box of Kleenex. No. What an odd concept for me. I couldn't allow myself to do that. Actually, I never remember allowing myself to do that. Even as a child I never remember having one of those meltdowns. Again, I wouldn't be in control. Too scary and at this point, just what might come out? Too overwhelming a thought. Honestly, wouldn't know how to start to do something like that.
Spiritually. Big one for me. Yes, I have my own belief system. No, not conventional by any stretch of the imagination. I thought that this was one place I felt grounded. That was up until a couple of years ago. I do believe that every once in awhile you need to step back and review what your belief system is. What truths you live by. Then, the things that no longer serve you, let them go and find new ones to replace them. This has been, to me, how I would grow. How I felt I would get to the next step in my journey. I have found myself floundering here for a couple of years now. Truths that served my Mom for sixty-five years and me for fifty, not so much right now. I find that scary. I don't know if I'm afraid to see what my new truth might be or honestly, where I might go to begin to look.
And so now, I see that I am in control of absolutely nothing in my life right now. I wonder if I ever was, or have I been kidding myself all these years? Could it be a blessing in disguise? The control freak realizes that she has nothing to hold on to. The control freak needs to let people in her life. The control freak can allow herself to just lay down the reins she has had white knuckled within her grasp for so long, relax, rest.....and be. I wonder....
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Broken
I feel broken and thus I have broken my husband and my marriage. At one point this weekend I felt like I was a three year old having a senseless temper tantrum. When Fred asked what was wrong, what I needed, I simply stood with my back against the refrigerator almost stamping my feet crying “I don’t know!” The only thing I do know is that I’m broken.
Sometimes I feel like I am one of those jigsaw puzzles that you try fruitlessly to put together time and time again only realizing in the end that you were missing a piece from the start. Or maybe worse, there is a piece from another puzzle in the mix.
I am and will never be happy. I have heard these words from many people throughout my life. I do believe they are right. Nothing can be simple in my head. Be in the moment. Be happy with what you have. Look at how lucky you are. Trust me, I’ve read enough self help books and I wish I could. If and when I get close to that point I find myself bored and complacent. Then my mind starts in. When I have too much idle time in my head…it’s not a good thing. “What’s next” always seems to crop back up and there I go getting into trouble once again.
My husband is a great man. He is a wonderful husband and an even greater dad. He is my best friend. After twenty-one years, he still makes me laugh everyday and still kisses me goodnight every night. He loves me with his whole being. This I know. There is no doubt.
I, on the other hand do not feel worthy. For some reason or another, I have never felt that I am connected completely to anyone or thing. There is a deep hole that I cannot fill. Fred believes that it is because I couldn’t have kids. I’m sure that is a huge part of it.
I sometimes am overwhelmed at the love Fred gives me. I feel so sad, guilty even, that someone can love me as much as he does. Especially when he knows that the void still remains, untouchable.
And so, I believe this weekend, I broke both him and my marriage and I am truly sorry for that. I have no answers. I don’t know where to go for them. I have looked within and I still feel like the three year old who simply doesn’t know.
Sometimes I feel like I am one of those jigsaw puzzles that you try fruitlessly to put together time and time again only realizing in the end that you were missing a piece from the start. Or maybe worse, there is a piece from another puzzle in the mix.
I am and will never be happy. I have heard these words from many people throughout my life. I do believe they are right. Nothing can be simple in my head. Be in the moment. Be happy with what you have. Look at how lucky you are. Trust me, I’ve read enough self help books and I wish I could. If and when I get close to that point I find myself bored and complacent. Then my mind starts in. When I have too much idle time in my head…it’s not a good thing. “What’s next” always seems to crop back up and there I go getting into trouble once again.
My husband is a great man. He is a wonderful husband and an even greater dad. He is my best friend. After twenty-one years, he still makes me laugh everyday and still kisses me goodnight every night. He loves me with his whole being. This I know. There is no doubt.
I, on the other hand do not feel worthy. For some reason or another, I have never felt that I am connected completely to anyone or thing. There is a deep hole that I cannot fill. Fred believes that it is because I couldn’t have kids. I’m sure that is a huge part of it.
I sometimes am overwhelmed at the love Fred gives me. I feel so sad, guilty even, that someone can love me as much as he does. Especially when he knows that the void still remains, untouchable.
And so, I believe this weekend, I broke both him and my marriage and I am truly sorry for that. I have no answers. I don’t know where to go for them. I have looked within and I still feel like the three year old who simply doesn’t know.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
I've got that numbing feeling.....
I've got that numbing feeling..... me, xannax and guns. Not a good prescription.
Between the ages of twenty-six and thirty one I was lost. Literally. I had become anorexic and with that came depression. A friend, Bev, convinced me that I really did need help. So I inquired around. I did my homework so to speak. From the first appointment I was prescribed Xannax. As my appointments came and went, my dosage was increased. I started not liking the feelings and the non feelings. Each time I expressed that this just wasn’t working. The doctor explained…yet again…that I hadn’t reached the proper dosage for me yet and up the prescription. On and on it went.
In three or four of those years, I moved seven times. Finally, I just gave up and moved into my car for a year. It was easier, but there really isn’t much room in a Honda Prelude. Trust me.
I began having, to me, logical thoughts. To others, not so much. I would be having a perfectly logical conversation with Bev and she would stop me mid sentence and tell me to think about the words I was putting together. Holy crap! What nonsense. Things like, I’m driving down the road going seventy. If I open the door, how far will I roll? Or, it’s midnight and I’m at work cleaning the deli slicer. The blade is exposed. Just how hard would I have to slam my head into the blade to penetrate my scull? Honest. These thoughts sounded quite logical.
One day I went to work in the deli. I said hi to Bev and walked over to wait on my first customer of the day. She wanted one pound of bologna and one pound of American cheese. Pretty generic in the land of the deli. I went and got my trusty plastic glove and while putting it on asked the customer again what it was she wanted. She told me. I then walked down the deli case, picked up the cheese and asked the customer how much she wanted. One thing accomplished. What else did she want? I asked again. Walked down the case, picked up the bologna….how much? With that, Bev politely excused me over to the table where she had been working on cheese for the cheese case. She took the rest of the customers. Honestly, I don’t even remember this happening at all. Bev told me about it many months later. What else don’t I remember? What else might I have done?
I do remember driving to my appointments. “Three pieces of paper, three pieces of paper”. This sentence would keep repeating itself. The first piece of paper the doctor wanted me to sign so that I would commit myself. The second piece of paper was to allow six to ten shock treatments. The third was yet a stronger prescription. I do remember him telling me twice that he hadn’t ever had anyone on such high dosages of this stuff. HELLO!?!?!?
I don’t remember what my lowest weight was. Odd I know for someone that is anorexic, but remember, I am living in my car. Not much room for the scale.
One night, after having moved in with a motorcycle gang, (a few stories there…), I was cleaning my gun. I figured that I only needed one bullet, so I put it in the cylinder and closed it. I put the gun to my head. I pulled the trigger. It took me a minute or two to realize what I had just done. I put the gun back in its case. I brought it to a friend that I knew had a gun permit for the state of Connecticut. I told her to never let me see or touch that thing again. I now know why God made me dyslexic. The cylinder rotated the opposite way. I went home. Popped another Xannax. Opened a big bottle of cheap wine and woke up sometime the next afternoon in a fog. As I laid there and the fog slowly went away it came to me what I had done the night before. What I was capable of.
At some point I must have called my brother, Rick, because he and his wife Kath were at my door. They live five hours away. The only thing I remember, the only thing that really stuck was when Kath said “What do you want me to tell Brandie?” (my niece) “How do you want me to explain this to her because I certainly don’t have the words”
I knew then that what I was doing wasn’t working. I stopped taking the Xannax. Big mistake! Guess you’re supposed to be weaned off of that stuff. All the drinking I started doing wasn’t helping either. Bev, seeing just how desperate things had become, quickly got me in to see another doctor.
My first meeting with the new doctor was weird. I wasn’t sure about some things, okay most things. I ended up giving him Bev’s phone number. She had seen it all pretty much. She knew the truth. Guess she had spoken to him twice. I never asked about what. I was diagnosed with eight things though I can only remember six. I was STILL anorexic and depressed. I was now also suicidal, chemically dependent, border line alcoholic, (I remember asking if that was like being almost pregnant), and obsessive compulsive.
While struggling through this time, Bev was always there beside me. She kept repeating, “One minute at a time. We’re gonna do this, you and me, one minute at a time”. She kept me alive.
A few years later, I lost Bev to lung cancer.
Between the ages of twenty-six and thirty one I was lost. Literally. I had become anorexic and with that came depression. A friend, Bev, convinced me that I really did need help. So I inquired around. I did my homework so to speak. From the first appointment I was prescribed Xannax. As my appointments came and went, my dosage was increased. I started not liking the feelings and the non feelings. Each time I expressed that this just wasn’t working. The doctor explained…yet again…that I hadn’t reached the proper dosage for me yet and up the prescription. On and on it went.
In three or four of those years, I moved seven times. Finally, I just gave up and moved into my car for a year. It was easier, but there really isn’t much room in a Honda Prelude. Trust me.
I began having, to me, logical thoughts. To others, not so much. I would be having a perfectly logical conversation with Bev and she would stop me mid sentence and tell me to think about the words I was putting together. Holy crap! What nonsense. Things like, I’m driving down the road going seventy. If I open the door, how far will I roll? Or, it’s midnight and I’m at work cleaning the deli slicer. The blade is exposed. Just how hard would I have to slam my head into the blade to penetrate my scull? Honest. These thoughts sounded quite logical.
One day I went to work in the deli. I said hi to Bev and walked over to wait on my first customer of the day. She wanted one pound of bologna and one pound of American cheese. Pretty generic in the land of the deli. I went and got my trusty plastic glove and while putting it on asked the customer again what it was she wanted. She told me. I then walked down the deli case, picked up the cheese and asked the customer how much she wanted. One thing accomplished. What else did she want? I asked again. Walked down the case, picked up the bologna….how much? With that, Bev politely excused me over to the table where she had been working on cheese for the cheese case. She took the rest of the customers. Honestly, I don’t even remember this happening at all. Bev told me about it many months later. What else don’t I remember? What else might I have done?
I do remember driving to my appointments. “Three pieces of paper, three pieces of paper”. This sentence would keep repeating itself. The first piece of paper the doctor wanted me to sign so that I would commit myself. The second piece of paper was to allow six to ten shock treatments. The third was yet a stronger prescription. I do remember him telling me twice that he hadn’t ever had anyone on such high dosages of this stuff. HELLO!?!?!?
I don’t remember what my lowest weight was. Odd I know for someone that is anorexic, but remember, I am living in my car. Not much room for the scale.
One night, after having moved in with a motorcycle gang, (a few stories there…), I was cleaning my gun. I figured that I only needed one bullet, so I put it in the cylinder and closed it. I put the gun to my head. I pulled the trigger. It took me a minute or two to realize what I had just done. I put the gun back in its case. I brought it to a friend that I knew had a gun permit for the state of Connecticut. I told her to never let me see or touch that thing again. I now know why God made me dyslexic. The cylinder rotated the opposite way. I went home. Popped another Xannax. Opened a big bottle of cheap wine and woke up sometime the next afternoon in a fog. As I laid there and the fog slowly went away it came to me what I had done the night before. What I was capable of.
At some point I must have called my brother, Rick, because he and his wife Kath were at my door. They live five hours away. The only thing I remember, the only thing that really stuck was when Kath said “What do you want me to tell Brandie?” (my niece) “How do you want me to explain this to her because I certainly don’t have the words”
I knew then that what I was doing wasn’t working. I stopped taking the Xannax. Big mistake! Guess you’re supposed to be weaned off of that stuff. All the drinking I started doing wasn’t helping either. Bev, seeing just how desperate things had become, quickly got me in to see another doctor.
My first meeting with the new doctor was weird. I wasn’t sure about some things, okay most things. I ended up giving him Bev’s phone number. She had seen it all pretty much. She knew the truth. Guess she had spoken to him twice. I never asked about what. I was diagnosed with eight things though I can only remember six. I was STILL anorexic and depressed. I was now also suicidal, chemically dependent, border line alcoholic, (I remember asking if that was like being almost pregnant), and obsessive compulsive.
While struggling through this time, Bev was always there beside me. She kept repeating, “One minute at a time. We’re gonna do this, you and me, one minute at a time”. She kept me alive.
A few years later, I lost Bev to lung cancer.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Drunk Driving
It had been one of those weeks, months actually, okay year. I had just gotten divorced. Had a ton of bills, moved a whole lot and was working three jobs. I worked in a factory, also in collections and as a part time cop.
Well I happened to only have to work one job one of those weird days and a friend asked me out for a drink after work. Drink? Sure!
We sat there for a long time drinking large glasses of house wine, eating Goldfish, and bashing men. When we decided to leave, I ambled out to my car and started to drive the two towns over home.
I pulled into the driveway and realized that I no longer lived there, I had moved. I went on to the next place only to realize that I had moved from there also. Shit, same with the next place. Think, think, think! Okay, deep breath. You’re a cop. Look at you’re license for the address. Shit, shit, shit…it’s a post office box! Think, think, think!!!! Then an Oprah light bulb moment hit. Vast realization came over me. You asshole! You’ve been living in your car! You’ve been home the whole damn time!!!!!
Never drove drunk again.
Well I happened to only have to work one job one of those weird days and a friend asked me out for a drink after work. Drink? Sure!
We sat there for a long time drinking large glasses of house wine, eating Goldfish, and bashing men. When we decided to leave, I ambled out to my car and started to drive the two towns over home.
I pulled into the driveway and realized that I no longer lived there, I had moved. I went on to the next place only to realize that I had moved from there also. Shit, same with the next place. Think, think, think! Okay, deep breath. You’re a cop. Look at you’re license for the address. Shit, shit, shit…it’s a post office box! Think, think, think!!!! Then an Oprah light bulb moment hit. Vast realization came over me. You asshole! You’ve been living in your car! You’ve been home the whole damn time!!!!!
Never drove drunk again.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Over Eating
What exactly does that mean to me? It sounds dumb, weird even to spend time contemplating. But for some reason, it has my attention.
I was anorexic for about five years. I had gotten down to about 118 pounds when someone took my scale away. I still lost more. I remember buying some jeans. Men's. They were size 28x34. They were too big. I didn't have to undo them to take them off. Belts puckered too much and would hurt by the end of the day. I wore suspenders. One day while at work I was standing at my bench looking down at the unit I was building. With both the way the pants hung and the lighting, when I looked down I could see all the way down inside my pants to the top of my left knee. What an odd feeling. I’m 5'7". I was in my late twenties.
My first marriage I weighed at the most, 124 pounds. My husband told me I was fat. A couple of other guys, pretty much the same thing. I remember having some ice cream or candy and one of them walking behind would start singing the Jello song. "Watch it wiggle" How disheartening.
Now, several years and many pounds later, I overeat. It doesn't matter if I've just had a big meal. It doesn't matter if I know that I'm not even hungry. I eat. What a weird concept for an anorexic.
What am I really doing, and more importantly...why? Once again, I feel, I'm being just like my parents. I'm stuffing the emotions down, swallowing them up so no one can see. I'm afraid to feel. Afraid to let anyone really see? Or am I more afraid of what I might see, feel, learn about myself? So many things stuffed for so long. Can I possibly get a handle on it now? I must admit it's quite an overwhelming thought. Maybe that's what all this writing is about. A start.
I was anorexic for about five years. I had gotten down to about 118 pounds when someone took my scale away. I still lost more. I remember buying some jeans. Men's. They were size 28x34. They were too big. I didn't have to undo them to take them off. Belts puckered too much and would hurt by the end of the day. I wore suspenders. One day while at work I was standing at my bench looking down at the unit I was building. With both the way the pants hung and the lighting, when I looked down I could see all the way down inside my pants to the top of my left knee. What an odd feeling. I’m 5'7". I was in my late twenties.
My first marriage I weighed at the most, 124 pounds. My husband told me I was fat. A couple of other guys, pretty much the same thing. I remember having some ice cream or candy and one of them walking behind would start singing the Jello song. "Watch it wiggle" How disheartening.
Now, several years and many pounds later, I overeat. It doesn't matter if I've just had a big meal. It doesn't matter if I know that I'm not even hungry. I eat. What a weird concept for an anorexic.
What am I really doing, and more importantly...why? Once again, I feel, I'm being just like my parents. I'm stuffing the emotions down, swallowing them up so no one can see. I'm afraid to feel. Afraid to let anyone really see? Or am I more afraid of what I might see, feel, learn about myself? So many things stuffed for so long. Can I possibly get a handle on it now? I must admit it's quite an overwhelming thought. Maybe that's what all this writing is about. A start.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The freedom of my religion
My dad was brought up Catholic. My mom Protestant. They decided to raise us in the Protestant church. There was no getting out of going to church every Sunday. Except, that is, on the occasional Sunday that my dad would wake me up early to work with him on the apple orchard. Thinking I was getting out of church was usually short lived as my dad always found a way of still getting a lesson in there somewhere for the day.
When I was fourteen, everyone was given a permission slip for our parents to sign so that we could join the church. I thought my dad would be really happy that this was something I wanted to do. So, that evening after dinner, I gave him the paper to sign. He looked at it, put it back on the table and said that he would not sign it. I was quite confused to say the least.
He explained it like this. It was he and my mom's intention that I get a good base, a good foundation. Now that he felt that I had it, it was my turn to go and decide what was truly right for me. If for the next few years I wanted him to take me to the catholic church, he would. A synagogue, baptist, advent, temple....he would. It was truly up to me, but I had to study something. If there was no place near for me to go, then I was to get a book. We would then talk about it later.
To this day I treasure this gift. This freedom to truly believe what resonated within. This is what I have come to believe.
All religions are but a mere different interpretation of the same thing. And so I am free to pick and choose the pieces to fit my belief system. I do not feel the pressure of conforming to believe something that just doesn't "fit" with me.
What about God? Do I believe that there is an almighty being, and almighty power? Absolutely. Do I necessarily believe that his name is God, or Alla, or Om, Mohammad, Buddha.....? No. So when I use the name God, it comes from my foundation, but the context of it is very different for me. Although some of my beliefs are very Christian, some are American Indian, Tibetan, or very Eastern in philosophy.
An example. You have a doctor. Within his office walls, he is the almighty being, the almighty power. It doesn't matter who enters his office, he is still the almighty power. Now of the people that come into his office, some may call him Doctor. Some may call him by his first name. And still some may call him Dad. Each of these people have a different interpretation of who the man is. One is not more right or wrong than the other, just different. It also matters not what you call him. If the intention is for him, he'll answer.
This, I guess is how I view God and religion. I have my own set of beliefs. I feel that it is important to take the responsibility to occasionally review your belief system. Let the truths that no longer serve you fall away and find a new truth to take it's place. This, is where I find myself floundering. I have come to believe that just because we become older and wiser, it doesn't necessarily mean that the lessons get easier.
Thank you, Dad, for the true freedom of your gift.
When I was fourteen, everyone was given a permission slip for our parents to sign so that we could join the church. I thought my dad would be really happy that this was something I wanted to do. So, that evening after dinner, I gave him the paper to sign. He looked at it, put it back on the table and said that he would not sign it. I was quite confused to say the least.
He explained it like this. It was he and my mom's intention that I get a good base, a good foundation. Now that he felt that I had it, it was my turn to go and decide what was truly right for me. If for the next few years I wanted him to take me to the catholic church, he would. A synagogue, baptist, advent, temple....he would. It was truly up to me, but I had to study something. If there was no place near for me to go, then I was to get a book. We would then talk about it later.
To this day I treasure this gift. This freedom to truly believe what resonated within. This is what I have come to believe.
All religions are but a mere different interpretation of the same thing. And so I am free to pick and choose the pieces to fit my belief system. I do not feel the pressure of conforming to believe something that just doesn't "fit" with me.
What about God? Do I believe that there is an almighty being, and almighty power? Absolutely. Do I necessarily believe that his name is God, or Alla, or Om, Mohammad, Buddha.....? No. So when I use the name God, it comes from my foundation, but the context of it is very different for me. Although some of my beliefs are very Christian, some are American Indian, Tibetan, or very Eastern in philosophy.
An example. You have a doctor. Within his office walls, he is the almighty being, the almighty power. It doesn't matter who enters his office, he is still the almighty power. Now of the people that come into his office, some may call him Doctor. Some may call him by his first name. And still some may call him Dad. Each of these people have a different interpretation of who the man is. One is not more right or wrong than the other, just different. It also matters not what you call him. If the intention is for him, he'll answer.
This, I guess is how I view God and religion. I have my own set of beliefs. I feel that it is important to take the responsibility to occasionally review your belief system. Let the truths that no longer serve you fall away and find a new truth to take it's place. This, is where I find myself floundering. I have come to believe that just because we become older and wiser, it doesn't necessarily mean that the lessons get easier.
Thank you, Dad, for the true freedom of your gift.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Mom and Dad and Emotions
I really love my Mom and my Dad. I really miss my mom. Guess I'm not as angry as I used to be. Just kinda still a little empty.
Growing up, looking back, my parents were always there for me. Mom stayed home with ALL the kids. Dad worked a lot, but I never felt that I didn't have access to them if I needed them.
I've been thinking a lot about the emotions that I grew up with. What I am remembering so clearly now, I never noticed then.
Dad said son-of-a-gun once. Boy was I scared. I had never heard him swear. That was as close as I ever wanted to get.
Mom would get mad at us kids for one thing or another, nothing serious. We knew where we stood. I usually got in trouble for laughing, especially when she was trying to discipline my brothers.
But true emotions, I'm at a loss. I do remember Mom getting mad, taking a deep breath, shaking her head and walking away. Not expressing. Not letting out what she was really thinking. What would have come out if she let go? I remember when Grampy died. I was fourteen. We were at the funeral parlor. She burst into tears; Dad put his arms around her. Then, as always, I saw her stifle the feelings and "pull herself together."
Guess kids do learn so much from their parents even if no one is even aware. I love my parents. I couldn't have asked for better. I always liked the fact that my "imagination" was never stifled, but now I wonder if it was at the cost of something else.
Growing up, looking back, my parents were always there for me. Mom stayed home with ALL the kids. Dad worked a lot, but I never felt that I didn't have access to them if I needed them.
I've been thinking a lot about the emotions that I grew up with. What I am remembering so clearly now, I never noticed then.
Dad said son-of-a-gun once. Boy was I scared. I had never heard him swear. That was as close as I ever wanted to get.
Mom would get mad at us kids for one thing or another, nothing serious. We knew where we stood. I usually got in trouble for laughing, especially when she was trying to discipline my brothers.
But true emotions, I'm at a loss. I do remember Mom getting mad, taking a deep breath, shaking her head and walking away. Not expressing. Not letting out what she was really thinking. What would have come out if she let go? I remember when Grampy died. I was fourteen. We were at the funeral parlor. She burst into tears; Dad put his arms around her. Then, as always, I saw her stifle the feelings and "pull herself together."
Guess kids do learn so much from their parents even if no one is even aware. I love my parents. I couldn't have asked for better. I always liked the fact that my "imagination" was never stifled, but now I wonder if it was at the cost of something else.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Angus and me
It's 5:30 pm, 4th of July weekend, 2000. My husband, Fred, has gone to Montauk, NY. to bring his sister back to home to live.
He is on the phone. "I've got a present for you." He then hands the phone over to our niece.
"It has four paws, is black and white, and really cute."
"Okay, cat or dog," I say.
"Cat. Can he keep it?"
"He's a big boy. I told him that the next animal in the house was his choice. Of course he can."
At 8:30pm same evening I called to say goodnight as they will be starting out very early the next morning. Fred gets on the phone. There is some hesitation. Then he just blurts it right out. "Well it needed a buddy!"
"That's fine," I say, "What's it look like?" Off on a rant he goes explaining how cute they are, what colors they are, how they plan on transporting them.
Although we've had the conversation, I hang up really not sure how many kittens are coming to live with us. Man, I love that guy.
Well, I meet them. ALL of them. There’s Fred, my sister-in-law, mother-in-law and the FOUR kittens. Oh, what a relief, two of them are my sister-in-law’s. We go unload the truck and drop everyone off respectively. It was a long, hot trip. The black one doesn't look so well, but recovered well once home, watered, fed and loved.
What to name them? I figure that they are his cats, he should be the one that has to name them. BO and GO? (Black One, Gray One) Can you imagine? Here Go. Go, come. Poor thing… Are they male or female? What are their personalities? And so for quite a few days, they just are. Then he decides. Black one, Angus. Gray one, Ash.
We soon found out that they were both females, but Angus seemed attached to her name by then, so it stuck.
They didn't take long to train us in the way it was going to be around our house. I think we learned well. It was also readily apparent that Ash had attached herself to Fred and Angus to me. They both have very different personalities. They are both very loving. We had discussed it. They are pretty close to being perfect. I'm so glad he brought them home.
It is now April, 2010. I can't imagine not having the two of them. As I sit and hold Angus who has her place up under my neck with her paws and head on my right shoulder, it's quiet in the house. She has taught me so much. I'm not even sure that I can even begin to put it into words, but I feel that I must try. Maybe, once in words, I can start to learn something that has eluded me for as long as I can remember. I must learn to love me, accept myself as Angus loves and accepts me. Can this be done? It honestly scares the hell out of me. Am I worthy? Is that ego and pride talking?
Angus' view, I guess simply put, would be feed me, love me, let me grow. How can I start doing the same for myself? It sounds so simple. But to act on it, I'm not quite so sure.
Okay, one step at a time. Feed me. Just what is it that I wish to be fed? Come on Grey Feather, (my spirit guide) help me out here. Spirituality, self acceptance, open heartedness as well as open mindedness.
Love me. No, it's not ego or pride to love myself. As a matter of fact, it's quite ok. It's not selfish to go do or not do something that I want to rather than what someone else wants to. Stop with the expectations. Everyone else’s’, that is. Stop and think. Stop and more importantly, I guess, listen. Listen to me. Listen to myself, my needs, as carefully as I listen to Fred's needs. To Angus' needs.
Let me grow. Take the time I need to grow. Read, meditate, find classes to take, friends to be with, learn from.
I am a very lucky woman. I have a very loving, understanding husband who is extremely supportive. He helps to keep me on track when I start wandering aimlessly. The blockages, and obstacles, have been put there by me. I can put the blame nowhere else. They have been there for many years. They are heavy and burdensome. Maybe soon, with Angus and Fred, I can start.
He is on the phone. "I've got a present for you." He then hands the phone over to our niece.
"It has four paws, is black and white, and really cute."
"Okay, cat or dog," I say.
"Cat. Can he keep it?"
"He's a big boy. I told him that the next animal in the house was his choice. Of course he can."
At 8:30pm same evening I called to say goodnight as they will be starting out very early the next morning. Fred gets on the phone. There is some hesitation. Then he just blurts it right out. "Well it needed a buddy!"
"That's fine," I say, "What's it look like?" Off on a rant he goes explaining how cute they are, what colors they are, how they plan on transporting them.
Although we've had the conversation, I hang up really not sure how many kittens are coming to live with us. Man, I love that guy.
Well, I meet them. ALL of them. There’s Fred, my sister-in-law, mother-in-law and the FOUR kittens. Oh, what a relief, two of them are my sister-in-law’s. We go unload the truck and drop everyone off respectively. It was a long, hot trip. The black one doesn't look so well, but recovered well once home, watered, fed and loved.
What to name them? I figure that they are his cats, he should be the one that has to name them. BO and GO? (Black One, Gray One) Can you imagine? Here Go. Go, come. Poor thing… Are they male or female? What are their personalities? And so for quite a few days, they just are. Then he decides. Black one, Angus. Gray one, Ash.
We soon found out that they were both females, but Angus seemed attached to her name by then, so it stuck.
They didn't take long to train us in the way it was going to be around our house. I think we learned well. It was also readily apparent that Ash had attached herself to Fred and Angus to me. They both have very different personalities. They are both very loving. We had discussed it. They are pretty close to being perfect. I'm so glad he brought them home.
It is now April, 2010. I can't imagine not having the two of them. As I sit and hold Angus who has her place up under my neck with her paws and head on my right shoulder, it's quiet in the house. She has taught me so much. I'm not even sure that I can even begin to put it into words, but I feel that I must try. Maybe, once in words, I can start to learn something that has eluded me for as long as I can remember. I must learn to love me, accept myself as Angus loves and accepts me. Can this be done? It honestly scares the hell out of me. Am I worthy? Is that ego and pride talking?
Angus' view, I guess simply put, would be feed me, love me, let me grow. How can I start doing the same for myself? It sounds so simple. But to act on it, I'm not quite so sure.
Okay, one step at a time. Feed me. Just what is it that I wish to be fed? Come on Grey Feather, (my spirit guide) help me out here. Spirituality, self acceptance, open heartedness as well as open mindedness.
Love me. No, it's not ego or pride to love myself. As a matter of fact, it's quite ok. It's not selfish to go do or not do something that I want to rather than what someone else wants to. Stop with the expectations. Everyone else’s’, that is. Stop and think. Stop and more importantly, I guess, listen. Listen to me. Listen to myself, my needs, as carefully as I listen to Fred's needs. To Angus' needs.
Let me grow. Take the time I need to grow. Read, meditate, find classes to take, friends to be with, learn from.
I am a very lucky woman. I have a very loving, understanding husband who is extremely supportive. He helps to keep me on track when I start wandering aimlessly. The blockages, and obstacles, have been put there by me. I can put the blame nowhere else. They have been there for many years. They are heavy and burdensome. Maybe soon, with Angus and Fred, I can start.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Self-Limitations
Self-Limitations
To say I’m a dyslexic, limits the way I see.
Really, I just see things differently.
To say I can’t dance, makes me sit on the side.
Really, I just need to listen to my heartbeat.
To say that I just don’t get it closes my mind.
Really, I just need to open the door.
To say that I’m afraid limits my faith.
Really, I just have faith.
To say that I need makes me more needy.
Really, I need just be.
To say I’m a dyslexic, limits the way I see.
Really, I just see things differently.
To say I can’t dance, makes me sit on the side.
Really, I just need to listen to my heartbeat.
To say that I just don’t get it closes my mind.
Really, I just need to open the door.
To say that I’m afraid limits my faith.
Really, I just have faith.
To say that I need makes me more needy.
Really, I need just be.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
How I wrap my head around it
To me, (in my, world as my husband like to say) the words frequency, energy and vibration to a certain degree can be interchanged. Let me give you a brief scenario.
On your ride home from work you listen to the radio in your car. A song comes on that you don't like so you touch a button and change the station. Once home, you are going to make yourself dinner. While you are cooking you are going to have the TV on to catch up on what's been happening in the world today. So you turn on the TV and change the channel to whatever one you want to watch. Once you get dinner going, you decide you need to call someone on their cell phone. You pick up your phone, cordless? And you make the call.
Each of these devices is programmed to work within it's own band of frequency. Correct? My head, for whatever reason is programmed to work off of a higher, purer band of these same frequencies. Its the same theory really. Any of the frequencies going in or out of any one of these devices, you can't see it, smell it, touch it, feel it......and yet you not only don't doubt or question that its there, you expect it to be there. You expect that radio station to change. You expect that tv to turn on and change channels. You expect the other person to answer their cell phone. So why then would you doubt me if I were to tell you a message from a loved one?
The fact that there are, and have been for many years, people in the world that are trying to develop such a device that can capture the frequencies that my head does can be very validating to someone like me.
I know that there are very advanced mediums out there that get it right most of the time. I honestly can't say that I would believe someone that told me that they always were right on target. There are too many variables for me. For example. Remember the old am radios and the early TVs? If you turned just right with the radio you would get another station. If the wind blew just right with the TVs you would get another channel for a second or so. That's what I call bleed overs. I believe that this also happens with doing readings. It can be so subtle, who would know?
Sometimes I feel like I am still in the am radio stage. "Hey you! Get outta the tunnel so I can hear you!"
Just as every artist is different, so is every medium. For me, I see things, hear things, feel things, sense things and sometimes smell things. I am still totally amazed by it and am always open to learn how to do it better.
On your ride home from work you listen to the radio in your car. A song comes on that you don't like so you touch a button and change the station. Once home, you are going to make yourself dinner. While you are cooking you are going to have the TV on to catch up on what's been happening in the world today. So you turn on the TV and change the channel to whatever one you want to watch. Once you get dinner going, you decide you need to call someone on their cell phone. You pick up your phone, cordless? And you make the call.
Each of these devices is programmed to work within it's own band of frequency. Correct? My head, for whatever reason is programmed to work off of a higher, purer band of these same frequencies. Its the same theory really. Any of the frequencies going in or out of any one of these devices, you can't see it, smell it, touch it, feel it......and yet you not only don't doubt or question that its there, you expect it to be there. You expect that radio station to change. You expect that tv to turn on and change channels. You expect the other person to answer their cell phone. So why then would you doubt me if I were to tell you a message from a loved one?
The fact that there are, and have been for many years, people in the world that are trying to develop such a device that can capture the frequencies that my head does can be very validating to someone like me.
I know that there are very advanced mediums out there that get it right most of the time. I honestly can't say that I would believe someone that told me that they always were right on target. There are too many variables for me. For example. Remember the old am radios and the early TVs? If you turned just right with the radio you would get another station. If the wind blew just right with the TVs you would get another channel for a second or so. That's what I call bleed overs. I believe that this also happens with doing readings. It can be so subtle, who would know?
Sometimes I feel like I am still in the am radio stage. "Hey you! Get outta the tunnel so I can hear you!"
Just as every artist is different, so is every medium. For me, I see things, hear things, feel things, sense things and sometimes smell things. I am still totally amazed by it and am always open to learn how to do it better.
Monday, March 29, 2010
The very beginning
I was born March 3, 1958. Third Month. Third Day. Third child in the family. Three minutes before midnight.....curious. Look out big brothers. Times, they are a changing!
I don't think my brother liked me too much. He was five when I was born. He was always picking, pulling and poking me. My mom kept telling him to leave me alone. I think he had a hard time hearing her cause he kept doing it anyways. What I quite never understood was, if he hated me so much, why was he the first one to give me something when I was only two weeks old? The chicken pox!!!
So weird and yet I swear I remember this happening. It's dark in my room, but I can still see. The light my mom leaves on over the kitchen sink helps me to see. I'm bored. I don't want to go to sleep. My cow reminds me what mom said. "Its time to go to sleep now. If you're awake when the Easter bunny comes, he won't leave you anything".
Hey, look! There's the shade. If I pull it and let it go, it goes up real fast and makes that funny noise. I really like that noise. I like looking out and watching the cars go by. Not as many when its dark out. Wonder why?
Look, what's that? That light keeps going up and down. What is it? Its getting closer. Oh, no! Its the Easter bunny! Maybe mom is right! Gotta go to sleep. Gotta go to sleep. I'll lay down and put the blanket over my head. Then he'll think I'm asleep. Sssshhh, cow.
Twenty-four years later......
Mom, did my crib used to be right there?
Yes.
When I couldn't sleep, did I get up and ping the shade and watch the cars?
Yes.
How old was I?
Well, you were out of your crib walking and talking at nine months.
Oh...
I don't think my brother liked me too much. He was five when I was born. He was always picking, pulling and poking me. My mom kept telling him to leave me alone. I think he had a hard time hearing her cause he kept doing it anyways. What I quite never understood was, if he hated me so much, why was he the first one to give me something when I was only two weeks old? The chicken pox!!!
So weird and yet I swear I remember this happening. It's dark in my room, but I can still see. The light my mom leaves on over the kitchen sink helps me to see. I'm bored. I don't want to go to sleep. My cow reminds me what mom said. "Its time to go to sleep now. If you're awake when the Easter bunny comes, he won't leave you anything".
Hey, look! There's the shade. If I pull it and let it go, it goes up real fast and makes that funny noise. I really like that noise. I like looking out and watching the cars go by. Not as many when its dark out. Wonder why?
Look, what's that? That light keeps going up and down. What is it? Its getting closer. Oh, no! Its the Easter bunny! Maybe mom is right! Gotta go to sleep. Gotta go to sleep. I'll lay down and put the blanket over my head. Then he'll think I'm asleep. Sssshhh, cow.
Twenty-four years later......
Mom, did my crib used to be right there?
Yes.
When I couldn't sleep, did I get up and ping the shade and watch the cars?
Yes.
How old was I?
Well, you were out of your crib walking and talking at nine months.
Oh...
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Figuring it all out
Hello,
I am a 52yr old woman still trying to figure it all out. I have done many things in my life and yet I still flounder, question, challenge and sometimes even dare the universe and the people who love me most. I am in hopes that by writing about my past that I will enable myself to see where I have arrived. I will be using this blog to write about things in no particular order, but randomly as they come to mind. My only agenda is to find myself by putting myself out there.
Let me start by what I do know, my labels, if you will. I am a wife, ex wife, step mom, psychic/medium, healer, teacher, friend, daughter, sister, reiki practitioner, menopausal woman. This list is truly in no particular order....I repeat.....menopausal....
Next I guess I should list some of the jobs I've had that also help to make me who I have become. I worked in the emergency field for about twelve years. I was a firefighter, worked also on the rescue squad, ambulance and as a cop. I taught and assisted in advance life support, cpr and emt classes. I worked my way up in a busy grocery store to manager. I took over and managed a gas station/conv. store that was going under. I worked in restaurant kitchens (please don't tell my husband I know how to cook). I now work in the backroom of a Target store and am quite happy.....work wise I guess.
What seems to be in the forefront right now is being a medium. I have always had this ability. As my life has evolved, so have my "abilities". This, like most things in my life, I do backwards. Rather than hanging out a shingle and having people come to me in hopes of a "message" I prefer to just allow myself to be open and allow spirit come to me with their messages. I then find the person here and deliver that message (sometimes a bigger problem). Although I can and have on many occaisions done cold readings, that is not where I am most comfortable. I will be writing about some of these messages in days and weeks to come, but please know that I take this part of my live seriously and their privacy is most important. Names and some minor details will be changed.
This, is my life as I choose to remember it. The good. The bad. The ugly. But none the less, mine.
I am a 52yr old woman still trying to figure it all out. I have done many things in my life and yet I still flounder, question, challenge and sometimes even dare the universe and the people who love me most. I am in hopes that by writing about my past that I will enable myself to see where I have arrived. I will be using this blog to write about things in no particular order, but randomly as they come to mind. My only agenda is to find myself by putting myself out there.
Let me start by what I do know, my labels, if you will. I am a wife, ex wife, step mom, psychic/medium, healer, teacher, friend, daughter, sister, reiki practitioner, menopausal woman. This list is truly in no particular order....I repeat.....menopausal....
Next I guess I should list some of the jobs I've had that also help to make me who I have become. I worked in the emergency field for about twelve years. I was a firefighter, worked also on the rescue squad, ambulance and as a cop. I taught and assisted in advance life support, cpr and emt classes. I worked my way up in a busy grocery store to manager. I took over and managed a gas station/conv. store that was going under. I worked in restaurant kitchens (please don't tell my husband I know how to cook). I now work in the backroom of a Target store and am quite happy.....work wise I guess.
What seems to be in the forefront right now is being a medium. I have always had this ability. As my life has evolved, so have my "abilities". This, like most things in my life, I do backwards. Rather than hanging out a shingle and having people come to me in hopes of a "message" I prefer to just allow myself to be open and allow spirit come to me with their messages. I then find the person here and deliver that message (sometimes a bigger problem). Although I can and have on many occaisions done cold readings, that is not where I am most comfortable. I will be writing about some of these messages in days and weeks to come, but please know that I take this part of my live seriously and their privacy is most important. Names and some minor details will be changed.
This, is my life as I choose to remember it. The good. The bad. The ugly. But none the less, mine.
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