ME – Page 9 – xangelle.com

Courage and Fear

I’ve been thinking a lot recently. This whole idea of pursuing dreams……putting them out there…..it’s terrifying.

fearlessly

It’s an incredibly courageous thing to admit you have a desire but also frightening, especially if you are scared of not living up to a certain standard. I LOATHE judgment…..especially self judgment. I seem to excel that that particular skill.

I was thinking today about the concept of whether or not I had something of value to share…..to release into the world.

That got me thinking……

I truly believe that we all have value; and we all add something to the world, when we share from our own experiences and wisdom.

For myself……I struggle with believing that what I have to share has value and yet I don’t really believe that I’m insignificant. So how can I believe that I am valuable AND think that I’m not…….it’s such a contradiction, no?

In my email signature, I have the Maya Angelou quote “Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can’t practice any other virtue consistently.” It’s obvious, to me, that courage and fear are issues that I deal with, and I think that really ties in with what I’ve been musing about today……..

One difference that I see between those who are and aren’t living and embracing their dreams, is having the courage to step out and do….to try…..to move forward.

I want to live courageously.

Now that I’ve figured out what I want……..I’ve got to figure out how to do it……

Frogs Jump – I am a Work in Progress

I am SOOOOOOOOO excited……like a giddy schoolgirl on Christmas Morning excited.

Frogs Jump Title
Click here to check out the book

Go ahead and click on the first page and it will take you to a preview of my book. It’s still not quite finished. I’ve got work, still, to finish up the cover and what I’d like to consider is my signature End Page……ha!

This process has been incredibly exhilarating and exhausting.

I am loving seeing my dreams come to life. I’ve dreamed about writing books since I was a little girl. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed and dismissed those dreams as frivolous. Anxiety, Self Condemnation and Judgment told me that I was ridiculous to even think about doing something as silly as writing books; even though I spent hours enthralled within the worlds inside my childhood books.

So, I dismissed those dreams. I pushed them down and tried to ignore the longing to “ignite wonder” in children’s minds. Over the years, I’ve written many little stories and songs….mostly for my children, about my children…..and told and sung them to my children.

Seeing this book unfolding and coming to life……it feels like I am starting to breathe after holding my breath for far too long. You know that moment when you break through the surface of the water after being under for a moment longer than you can actually stand…..

And yet, it’s terrifying and exhausting. I feel like I’m in an epic battle.

I feel determined that anxiety won’t win this battle and yet everything in me wants to go back into hiding. It feels safer there (except that whole drowning thing, doesn’t feel all that great). It’s less vulnerable to just keep things status quo. It’s hard to put yourself out there, especially when there is still a huge part of you that doesn’t really believe that you have anything worth contributing. And it’s those thoughts, that I’m determined to…..to… prevail over.

It often feels too terrifying, too exhausting, too overwhelming……to move forward. And yet, I’m holding on to the life giving moments as well and trusting that I’m ready and able to take these next steps.

I don’t even know what the next steps are….but I’m going to figure that out. I hope you’ll come along for the journey. It’s always better to do things with your friends, than to do them alone.

The Perpetual Grief Series

Imagine, if you would, a sunshine filled garden exploding with a riot of colors, sounds and smells. The colors are vibrant and exciting as they effortlessly clash and blend together. The perfume from the flowers and the wonderful earthy smell of the warm dirt and the grass fills your senses. You can hear the wind blowing and the birds chirping…..it’s an incredible experience. You feel calm and peaceful just thinking about that place……..

Now imagine that you are in that place…….but you have glasses on with grey, smudgy lenses; that you are wearing a backpack with 25 pounds of rocks inside that are weighing you down, giving you a headache and making your shoulders feel so tense and sore. Imagine that you have on heavy boots that make every step you take an extra effort; and you’re exhausted because you must. keep. moving. or something won’t get done. Imagine that you have on headphones and a crowd of people are shouting different instructions at you; and you feel that you must follow all the directions and manage to get everything done that they are requesting or demanding. Imagine that you are juggling but what you are juggling is fragile and if you somehow drop one, there are huge consequences………now imagine that this is every day 24/7 for as long as you can remember and as long as you can see…..You can sort of, almost remember what life was like before the exhaustion and the weight of the stress; but because your “now” is so overwhelming……”before” has become this idealized place that you no longer have clear access to and at times, you can feel very resentful of where you are at, right now.

I know that life is not that amazing sunshine filled, calm, peaceful place, all the time. But my life with special needs kids, 99.9% of the time, feels like the second part of that imaginary place……and it’s exhausting!

It’s exhausting, thinking about it. It’s exhausting, living it.

And with that exhaustion comes guilt, and more grieving.

I have special needs children and sometimes it feels like those children and their “special needs” are my whole world. But they’re not……

I have myself. I, way too often, put myself last and really have nothing to give but everything is required and I give – at a deficit to myself. I end up wondering what the long term effects, physically, mentally and emotionally, will be. It’s only a fleeting wonder, as I don’t have “time” to dwell on it.

I have a husband. He, way too often, gets the short end of the stick because he is an adult and capable of caring for himself. But with all that is required of me, there is very little to give to him, and I often grieve the friendship and intimacy that we could have, should have……..did have and I took for granted? We have a weekly date night (thanks to respite) but often we sit side by side, shell shocked over this life we are living. We attempt to connect, knowing that it won’t be this way forever; but he is my best friend and even though we are married, see each other every day, live together, sleep together….I miss him. And yet, right now, so much else, consumes our time and thoughts and energy.

I have 2 big girls who are becoming incredible women. I grieve the lack of time and energy to spend with them. I am so thrilled that they want to spend spend time with me. But I feel guilty when my initial thought is that I don’t want to spend time with them because I have nothing more to give. And I grieve……I grieve being the mother they need and want. I do my best, but too often, I’m scared that my best is not enough.

I have a 5 year old. And against all the odds, he seems to be neuro-typical……what some might call normal. I’m not sure what normal really is or even if you can actually say that anyone is normal, but he doesn’t have Autism or ADHD and he doesn’t seem to have any glaring learning disabilities, that we are aware of. He struggles a little with some anxiety and has a harder time with transitions (than I’d like). But, he really seems to fit in with what society would consider to be a typical 5 year old. It’s wonderful and bizarre to see him reaching milestones, remembering names, being able to read and identify emotions in himself and in others, being able to sit still and focus….. He could be my little soccer player or join a karate club…….but remember that description above…..I’m exhausted. And feel like I have nothing left to give. And I grieve…..

I desire friendships and relationships, but there is no extra to give. Everything comes at a cost. Sometimes the investment is worth it, sometimes its not….and it’s a huge juggling act to know when, where, why, and how to fit it all in. As a result, unless it’s someone who understands what I’m going through and is willing to be there when I can muster up the energy……friendships are sparse, fleeting and oh so shallow. But if and when you do find those people who get it…….it’s incredible. But then you grieve your inability to have as much time as you’d like. Sometimes, its easier to not know what you’re missing…..

So much of “special needs” parenting has this underlying thread of guilt and sadness woven through it. I might try to fit or blend in. I might try to “do it all”…..but I just can’t. There is simply too much.

And I grieve…..

I don’t think that Perpetual Grief is limited to special needs parenting, it can be brought on by any form of long term trauma like physical or mental illness, divorce, loss, etc……

Once again, my goal in sharing about this, is not because I’m trying to explain how hard my life is or that I’m looking for pity. I know there are others out there who feel this way and I want to let you know that you’re not alone. The journey of Perpetual Grief is not an easy one, but knowing that you’re not alone seems to help. It won’t make it all better, but it helps a little.

I also know that there are those who don’t understand. They don’t understand why I don’t do extra things. Why I always say, “no.” Why I have to weigh and measure how worth it, it’s going to be to do something that seems like it would be fun and exciting. I know that there are those who don’t understand why we won’t alter our schedule to do some fun activity because the “schedule” keeps things balanced and I’m too tired to try to allow for things to become unbalanced. There are those who don’t understand why I’m too tired, when I don’t do anything extra. Grief is a funny thing. You’re not always sad but it’s like a weight that sits heavy on you……and when it’s always around….you’re always tired.

Be kind. Be compassionate. Don’t judge.

Read Part 2 of The Perpetual Grief Series here

Read Part 1 of The Perpetual Grief Series here

The Perpetual Grief Series

I’m not sharing about the concept of continual and on going grief to gain sympathy or pity. But to bring awareness to a state of being that some may have no concept about. My life is not continually sadness and depression. There are SO MANY AMAZING things…..starting with the 6 most amazing people that I love more than life itself.

But, I am living this life that has been hard and there are aspects of grieving that I never seem to get beyond because certain situations are brought up again and again and again.

Parenting a child (or children) with special needs is an interesting endeavor. There is a certain loss of dreams and ideals that you come up against time and time again.

For many reasons, my 2 older boys – both of which have Autism, ADHD, Learning Disabilites and Anxiety, as well as Sensory Processing Disorder – have never done very well in group activities. Whether its the social aspect, or the inability to focus, the lack of verbal or written output, generalized fear and anxiety; or even the chaos, and sensory input from an organized activity.

We tried to put Jeremy in Karate, and Soccer when he was younger. The karate instructor was positive that he could whip Jeremy into shape…..and eventually asked us to leave when all Jeremy was interested in doing was spinning in circles while laying on the floor. The soccer league was specifically a no rules, just play league and we figured the lack of standing in lines waiting for your turn to do the drills would be amazing for him. We were excited to have him ask to be in net every week, until we realized that the ball almost never made it to the net and that he spent the majority of his time laying in the grass, looking up at the sky and rolling around. We attempted to put Josiah in a parkour class but after getting spoken to by the instructors because he wouldn’t stay in the lines and wait his turn, we removed him from that activity as well.

The only activity that has been somewhat tolerated has been swimming…..and I’m not surprised because my boys spend about 50% of their awake time in the the bath……It’s a sensory heaven…..the perfect temperature, perfect amount of pressure, they can float if they want, still play with lego, and can hide under the water and its so quiet.

Even so, we got notified by the swimming instructor, last week, that maybe Siah would benefit from private lessons as he struggles with listening to the teacher and following the rules. And I grieve….

I see parents all around me putting their kids in different activities and I grieve the loss of normality. I see parents sharing excitedly of how their child is excelling in this activity or that activity. Hear parents talk about how their child got a scholarship to this college or university and while I’m so happy for them and would never begrudge their child’s success…..

I grieve. I grieve because I celebrate differently.

I celebrate days when we have “only 3” meltdowns. I celebrate just getting my children to school……without tears is a banner day. I still haven’t been able to celebrate just dropping off my kindergarten-er and having him run inside happily. I celebrate days where the teacher hasn’t had to talk to me about an issue. I celebrate days where bedtime doesn’t take 3 hours from start to finish. I celebrate my children eating……something……anything……I celebrate when my child uses the bathroom without fear, tears and pain. I celebrate when we can find the “softy pants”.

But I grieve the loss of dreams…..the dream of normalcy…the thoughts and ideals I had of life looking a certain way. Of being able to put my son in soccer. Of having my kids involved in sports or an activity…..of having them excel at something.

And they do excel……just differently.

In the grand scheme of things, I’m raising my children to be kind, compassionate, understanding, aware…… and I think I’m succeeding. But that doesn’t mean that somewhere underneath it all, that a part of me doesn’t feel the loss…..

And I grieve……

The Perpetual Grief Series

We’ve had a lot of hard moments, recently!

This past Sunday, neither of my little boys wanted to go to their class at church. I know that once they are settled, they enjoy themselves; but transitioning from being with mom and dad to being in their class has been so difficult. Sunday was no exception. We managed to get Judah settled – but he wasn’t happy about it. And Jon took Siah up to his class. He sent me the picture up above, saying that Siah was pretty pissed to be there and was refusing to join in. He was just standing in the corner, glowering at everyone.

He finally worked his way through whatever transitioning he needed to do and realized that he could “improve on” what they were doing for the craft. At that point, he quite happily joined in.

When I spoke with him later, he mentioned that getting a”list of what was going to happen” would help…………and that explained everything. He was feeling anxious and out of control. His need for security and comfort displayed itself as defiance and opposition. But the reality was that he was scared and insecure.

I suggested that maybe the calm Josiah needed to write the nervous Josiah a letter so when he had forgotten how fun class was; I could give him the letter so that he could remind himself…….because even if you won’t trust me, you’ve got to trust yourself, right?

He giggled for a long time about that.

But it breaks my heart to see him stressed beyond the ability to reason. He is such a smart, capable child as long as he’s not in “fight or flight mode”. Once he hits that…..basically we hold the course until he can come to a realization by himself.
And yet, the longer he stays in that space, the harder it is on him – physically, mentally and emotionally – and I hate that.

I grieve the loss of normalcy. I grieve the loss of ease. I was looking back at pictures from when I had only the older three kids and while life back then wasn’t easy….it was different. It seemed simpler. It wasn’t easy. Jeremy wasn’t an easy kid but he as only 1 of 3 and at that point I had no idea of the world of pain I was headed into.
I grieve the loss of self. I grieve the loss of competence and confident capability. I grieve the loss of innocence.

I feel like a part of me is stuck in that dark space of grieving. Like it’s been so long that grief has been touching me that it’s infused itself into me. Not overwhelming, just subtly changing……..winding tiny bursts of sadness here and there. Not enough to overwhelm, but just enough to never forget………

Urban Farming…part 3

This year, I started keeping a record of what I’m harvesting. As of Wednesday, the total was at 39 pounds. Just for reference, I started keeping track of what I was harvesting on July 3rd. Anything we harvested before then hasn’t been included and we definitely harvested lettuce and other salad greens, strawberries, peas and varied herbs.

We have approx 40 feet of width to our back yard and an average of 12 feet between the back fence and the back of our house. It’s not a huge space, but I’m definetely looking for creative ways to get the most amount of food from the smallest amount of space and for the least amount of financial investment.

I haven’t crunched the numbers as far as specific fruits and veggies, but as I was skimming the internet today, I realized that I should be looking at the organic veggie/food and herb prices as opposed to the typical ones….because that what this stuff is. Home grown with lots of love and water, and this years incredible sunshine.

Although last year, my beans seemed to be the big bounty winners…..the incredible heat has not been kind to my bean plants and I’ve gotten WAY LESS than last year, BUT…..the tomatoe plants have been LOVING the heat and are definitely going to be this year’s big winners. Which I’m not upset about, at all.

In the “center” portion of my garden, which looks like this……

….you can see where the greenhouse is, in the top left corner. In the bottom left corner, you can see the tomatoe forrest, and the yellow containers with the hot pepper plants in them. The small red container is Judah’s and has a tiny tomatoe plant, an habenero and some garlic chives….just because he wanted to. And I LOVE encouraging my kids to be apart of this endeavor and to help foster their interest in gardening and eating the veggies.

Just above the Tomatoe Forrest, you can see some orange flowers, those are Cosmos – which look like this….

…..and they are planted in a Langley Township Recycling Bin (I had WAY TOO MANY) along with 2 MORE Tomatoe plants….also scrounged from the existing plants. Right beside them is another Langley Township Recycling Bin (Hey! Use what you’ve got available) with TWO HUGE Zucchini plants…

Today I harvested a Zucchini that was almost 2 pounds…YAY!

If you look back at the very first photo, to the right of the greenhouse, you can see my pumpkin plants completely covering my fence. I have 4 pumpkin plants growing vertically up and along my fence. Here is one of the pumpkins that is growing…I think we have 6 different ones in varying sizes, at this exact moment…

They will “orange up” as they get closer to being ready to harvest.

Next to the Pumpkins, is our little corn patch.

I actually grew corn last year in a large container and even though I started WAY late in the season, we still got enough for each of our family to have a piece. This year, I started much earlier and moved them to a patch of ground. We have 9-12 plants growing….I think and the cobs are starting to fill out.

My kids love going out and checking on the different veggies to see where they are at and to see what’s ready at any given time.

If you look in the picture with the full stalks of corn, you can see the leaves from my 4 summer squash plants (in 2 containers) to the left of the corn. You can also see the tops of the bush beans in the bottom right of that same picture. I staggered the planting of 3 containers of bush beans, and I also planted more bush beans in the bottom of the corn patch. While I had an over abundance of beans last summer, this year, I’ve gotten enough for meals, but not any to put away….which is sad. Hopefully, the temps cool a little and I still get a decent harvest to freeze a bunch. It was so nice to be able to just go to the freezer and pull out beans instead of buying them.

If you go back again to the top photo, to the right of the small corn patch, I have a section of Hubbard Squash…..it looks sort of like this….

It is also 4 plants that I’m growing vertically up my fence. I got the seeds from my momma, who got them from my Aunty Judy. Apparently, these squash make the best pumpkin pie and I’m looking forward to making Squash Soup and Pie from these beautiful Green Squash…

Next to and nestled in amongst, I have 4 Canteloupe Plants, also from my Momma, through my Aunty Judy…..

They are in two containers that I’ve situated on top of each other with the help of an old wooden chair that is mostly unsafe to be sitting on.

I was kind of surprised to have these actually grow and to see an actual cantaloupe. I know I shouldn’t be be, with my whole “plant it and water it” philosophy….but I was..

I have a few flowers tucked here and there and further down I have a row of strawberry plants, but they aren’t doing much at this exact moment, so I didn’t take a good picture of them. if you really wanted to look…in the picture of the Hubbard squash, they are on the far right side, under the hanging basket of flowers.

Well, That about does it for the center section, so I’ll try and wrap up the fourth and final section in the next post.

If you’ve read this far, THANK YOU for visiting my little patch of heaven. I hope you’ve enjoyed it even half as much as I do.

Urban Farming…..part 2

I love the idea of growing my own food. I love the idea of being self sufficient. In a dream world, I would live in the middle of nowhere with huge property and animals and grow everything and be self sustaining…..and, it’s a lovely dream, but not really my reality.

And in all honesty, our last move nearly destroyed the tenuous grip that I have on reality and I have no intentions of moving again, until I “HAVE TO”…..

And so then, I do the best I can with what I have.

Gardening or farming seems to be my blood….we have generations going back on both sides of my family that were incredible gardeners or farmers….and I think that one of my relatives worked in Queen Victoria’s Gardens…..or something like that. I don’t remember the exact details, but I remember how cool I thought it was when I saw the picture and heard the story…now I wish I had paid more attention.

My parents had a HUGE flower garden when I was growing up, but not veggies…..Although now, they have a HUGE veggie garden on my sister’s acreage.

When we were living in Abbotsford, in the early 2000’s, I started a garden in my backyard. The first year it was incredible but the next few years were busy and stressful and it was never quite as amazing as that first year.

We moved from Abbotsford to Langley and bought a townhome and there was really no place to garden. But when we bought our current place, even though the yard was smaller than I had hoped….I was so excited to be able to garden again.

I started researching container gardening and square foot gardening and came across vertical gardening….and well, here I am.

This is our third summer here and my garden is the biggest it’s ever been and I have visions of even greater harvest for next year (much to Jon’s dismay because I keep enroaching on the sacred yard space).

I’m all about using space creatively and beautifully. I love to mix flowers in with my veggies and fruit. I LOVE seeing the space start as a dry and dirty space and becoming a lush green oasis.

In the last post, I was talking about my triangle shaped garden area….I managed to share what was inside of that space, and I’d like to share about the outside of that space now.

Last year, I got 4 tires and planted potatoes inside of one and as soon as it overgrew the first tire, I stacked a second and then a third and a fourth….We managed to get 6 pounds of potatoes from that stack of tires, and I’m sure I could have gotten more, but I stacked the tires and planted some bulbs in them….you can see a glimpse of the tires in the left side of this picture….but there are about 10 lavender plants that I grew from seed last year in this one pot. I desperately need to rehome them to different places around my garden because I’m sure they are nice and root bound now….But I’m looking forward to lots of lavender over the next few years.

To the right of the lavender are some baby Echinacea plants, that are being cuddled by the chives in a neighboring pot. Herbs for cooking and for medicinal purposes is a passion of mine and so I keep adding different herbs as I find them….I was ever so excited to be stung by a Stinging Nettle in my garden as I poked around last year. I repotted the baby plant and it’s grown nicely and I’ve been able to dry some for tea…..I love that I was able to obtain a plant for free that I have been purchasing dried to use for tea; and to be able to dry it and store it for myself. I’m saving money and I know where and how it was grown and how it was dried. That’s a win/win, as far as I’m concerned.

To the right of the Echinecea and chives, is a container with Rhubarb in it. I just transplanted the Rhubarb this year from my front yard. It wasn’t too happy in its prior space but apparently being knocked around and dumped out of the container twice before actually settling in was exactly what is needed. It has sprung out of control. I have some amazing memories of eating Rhubarb from my Aunty Ruth’s house and dipping it in sugar. After the Rhubarb settled and started thriving, I was surprised to find both a nasturtium and a tomatoe plant growing in the pot. Both are carryover’s from last years garden when the plants reseeded themselves. It’s always fun to see what shows up where.

Right next to the Rhubarb, is a narrow planter that I brought from our town house. It has Spearmint from my Mother-in-law, next to some lily bulbs and then Catmint (also known as Catnip). Cat Mint is an herb used for many different medicinal purposes, nit just for drugging your cat…..although the Cat Mint plant is typically the first place that our cat stops when we heads on down to our yard.

If you were standing facing the Cat Mint bush, and you turned directly around, you’d see my staircase of herbs…..I originally bought 5 colored containers – red, orange, yellow, green and blue….and nailed the bottom into the stairs, but the blue one broke and has been replaced with the lovely grey one, on the bottom step. Starting from the top, in the red container I have Sage, then Parsley, Lemon Balm, Peppermint and Chocolate mint. The two square containers on the inside of the steps also have peppermint and chocolate mint. Mostly because I don’t think you can have too much peppermint…and the chocolate mint was all root bound.

If you turned back around towards the Cat mint bush and looked to your right, you’d see my overwhelming Tomatoe Forrest. I have approximately 14 tomatoe plants potted in 7 containers. Again, they are either suckers or from last years re-seed. Behind them, I have a HUGE varigated Sage plant, more Oregano, more Cosmos (a flower) and an older lavender plant.

In the bottom right of the last picture, you can see two yellow containers. One of those containers has2 plants of HOT Chili Peppers and the other has 2 plants of Kung Pao Chili Peppers. I got a ton from my plants last year and dried them in my dehydrator and have used them over this entire last year. I still have a few left and should make it until these ones are ready for harvest. I LOVE that I haven’t had to buy any spicy Chili Pepper flakes because I grew my own…..how cool is that. An entire year’s worth, from my own backyard……YAY!

With our family of 7, we make a weekly run to the veggie market. Depending on what we need, we could spend between 50-100$. It’s crazy. I think we’ve gone 2, maybe 3 times this summer. That seems crazy to me, but it’s true…..and AMAZING!!!!

I’ll carry on with part 3 and the canter section of my yard, in the next post. Do you have any questions? I could try to answer them, if you do….although being honest, my philosophy is “Plant the seeds, Water them, and Trust it will work.” So, no big secrets here…….

At Peace With Myself

It was a busy day today, full of little boys and big messes. That doesn’t typically allow me much space to process or think….

There were moments where I stopped and just took a breath, yesterday’s session weighing heavy on me, but not necessarily in a bad way………

I sat across from my counselor and had so many moments of insight into myself.

I made so many comments where something just “clicked”. It was such a bizarre moment in time. I’m trying desperately to remember it all because it seemed so…….sacred. It seemed like such a pivotal moment. Such an awareness…..of myself; an understanding of why I have thought the way I do. I don’t have answers as to why I felt so “bad” as a little girl. I don’t know that I ever will…..But I have to admit that I don’t ever remember feeling so disgusted with myself as I did during that session yesterday.

I’ve felt disappointed in myself. I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough. I’ve felt like a fraud. I’ve felt like I had to try harder. I’ve felt ashamed….so ashamed…..and I didn’t know why.

I couldn’t figure out why I felt so “less than”….or “not good enough”…..or “unworthy”…..

Yesterday, I struggled with connecting with those feelings. It felt like I was aware of some inner pain, and yet I didn’t want to connect because it was too intense. I love how our brains work to protect ourselves so that we can carry on. Obviously, it would be better to deal with issues as they come up, but sometimes we can’t or just don’t know how to or even that we need to; and our bodies are created in such a way that it’s almost like our brains wrap a protective cocoon around the intensity of that moment to soften it so that we can carry on.

Imagine that you hurt your foot as a child and then wrapped it up tightly to keep it safe and from hurting, but then never took the tight bandages off as you grew up. You may have some discomfort, and your foot would even grow disfigured or maybe smaller and weaker than the other…..it didn’t need to be that way, but you didn’t know any better. You would grow older and know “how to walk”, but you might not be very good or very graceful at walking. In much the same way, emotionally….you may have areas that are weaker or stunted…or that never grow up in the same way that the rest of you grows up. You may have knowledge as an adult and be able to rationalize as an adult, but those wounded areas won’t be able to function as well as they could.

Sitting in my counselors office yesterday, I had the opportunity to connect with a part of myself and I didn’t want to. It was too strong, too intense and I was too scared. I felt like I was catching glimpses of it and these tiny moments of overwhelming feelings, and yet I found myself avoiding those feelings…using humor to escape the moment…..grounding myself in the present……and yet at the same time I was grasping to feel…..to be able to hold onto that moment because it felt like it was a key moment for me. I think it was….it is…..

I talked through that moment. I made statements that confused and astounded me because they were purely instinctual; and yet they tied my feelings perfectly into the person that I’ve become. They explained who I am now and why things are important to me. Things that I’ve not concretely thought through, made perfect sense. As I talked, I felt more, and more….and the depth of those feelings – well, lets just say that the only other time I remember feeling that intensely was when Nathaniel died. The grief was huge….like take your breath away huge. Like BLINDINGLY huge. Like you can’t possibly be in any more pain and still be alive, but you can’t possibly be dead because EVERY THING ACHES WITH SUCH INTENSITY!!!!

I’m sitting here on my couch with my laptop in my lap, still blown away at the intensity of those feelings from yesterday. I’m trying to wrap my head around how/what/why I would so intensely hate myself at such a young age. What could I have possibly done that I could have received that message? I’m very much aware that I most likely will never know and in the most surreal way possible, I’m mostly okay with that.

I sat there sensing this young girl, so filled with shame and disgust and my heart broke for her. My heart broke for me. My heart broke for any child who feels unloved and unaccepted; who feels like they are living just outside of what’s acceptable – and I guarantee that this is why….it’s because I felt like that as a child.

Inside of myself, I could see this young girl sitting on the floor hanging her head in shame. I scooped her up in my arms, and told her I loved her and that she was ok; and that she would grow up and find a man who would love her, unconditionally. They would have these amazing children who would have an incredible ability to love and accept others. That she would grow up to be loved and accepted by others…….and as I held her and spoke to her, she lifted up her head and looked up into me with amazement and wonder and I cradled her into myself.

It seems surreal. It sounds incredulous. It was both of those and more…….

What I know is that I feel more at peace than I have in a long time. I don’t feel like I’m in conflict with myself and that’s such a good thing. I’m not all fixed, or all better, or all done….but I’m in process and that’s such a good thing.

Assimilation……

I went to another counseling session this morning….and then I came home, ate lunch and crawled into bed until I had to pick up the boys from school.

I’m currently chatting with some friends on the Facebook messenger app….I’m having such a hard time focusing on this and yet, I want to be able to write it down because when I do…..I feel like I process through it and assimilate the info, so much better than when I kind of ignore it and carry on.

I feel like I’ve been fighting myself. On one hand, I think I’m good at certain things…..but on the other hand, I don’t really believe it. For example, I believe I am beautiful; but instead of just believing it and it being a non-factor…..I’m constantly needing to “be” perfect…even though I’m no where near perfect. It’s always something I’m reaching for or trying to attain. And if someone says anything to me….I honestly believe that they are just being nice…because somewhere inside of me, I don’t really believe I’m beautiful…..but I do….???

I think I can sing well, and yet…I don’t really believe it, because if I really was good, then wouldn’t I have actually “done” something with it. And yes, I can carry a tune, but so many are so much better than me, and I’m not really that good……..I’m just…adequate.

So, in counseling today, I managed to connect with a much younger me…from about when I was 6….and she quite honestly believes that shes bad……dirty and disgusting and bad…..and I don’t know why. She believes that if anyone really truly saw who she was that they would reject her……..and that just so much resonates with how I feel.

It’s weird. It’s weird to hear yourself say things like……I see these kids. These kids that others see as “bad” and I see beyond the “actions” and “issues” to the heart and soul of the kids and I see how special and amazing they are.

It’s so devastating to see that as a young girl, maybe 6, that I felt like if anyone saw the real me that they would reject me, because I was so bad.

I don’t know what happened to make me think that. I don’t know what would have given me that impression, all I know is that for the first time…..something makes sense…….its like something inside of me has held onto something horrid for 30+ years and I can finally recognize that it’s not the adult me feeling like this. Even saying this (or typing it) makes me feel crazy and yet…….it just feels so “right”. I said things today that totally make sense for the first time in 30+ years.

If there is a part of me that was traumatized by something and held onto that trauma and never quite grew up….it could easily be causing a disparity between what I know as an adult and what I felt as a child.

The feelings were so strong….at first I didn’t even want to connect with her.

I’m quite unsettled sharing this, and yet…..I want to. In some ways, if I share it, it becomes more real to me.

I find our minds to be so very, incredibly interesting.

Its so hard to switch from what we know as an adult to what we feel/felt as a child. And yet to recognize that what we felt/observed/experienced is still valid regardless of what the actuality is/was…..

For whatever reason, I felt like I was unworthy of love. I felt disgusting. I felt bad. I felt like, if anyone saw who I really was, then they would reject me. I felt like I had to continue to try to appear perfect, in order for people to accept me. I felt like failure was equivalent with rejection. I’ve continued to feel that in my experiences with people, all through out my life. It sucks.

In a lot of ways, it feels like I can’t trust myself. How do you merge these two “warring” sides of yourself? One side believes that you actually are a nice person worthy of love and acceptance; and at the same time, a part of me truly believes that I’m one slip/one step/one action away from being rejected because I’m so “bad”.

How is a 6 year old “bad”?

I can’t imagine looking at a young child and believing them to be truly evil.
I can’t imagine looking at my young children and rejecting them based on their actions.
I can’t imagine my children feeling so unacceptable and undesirable.

It just about destroys me to think that I felt like this….and yet…..I can’t remember not feeling like this and the feelings today were so intense……

It made me feel so sad for myself.

I hurt so incredibly much for the children that I see who are struggling. My own children, my nieces and nephews, our friends kids……..children at our local school….., at church….

So many of these, I’d venture to say ALL of these, kids just want to be loved and accepted, and they should be….in spite of any actions that people deem inappropriate….Sometimes, I just want to scream at the “adults”. I want to scream and rail at them, “can’t they see that these kids are trying their hardest?” They are doing the very best they can. Children want to do their best. If they are struggling, it’s probably because they don’t know what to do….and helping to teach them what to do (as opposed to focusing on what they are not to do), with love and compassion would go a whole lot further than getting angry with them.

It was a weird appointment, and I realize that I’m a bit all over the place….but it’s been a tough day.

I’m attempting to process through this. I’ll probably have more thoughts on it all, but at least I’ve started….

I’m trying to be ok with being in process….I like to start something and wrap it up and “finish” it…..but I think it needs to be ok to be “in process”….to be “working on things”….to not have to feel like if I don’t finish it right away that it’s useless or worthless….but to realize that I can start working on something and continue to work on it and that it’s ok to not be finished yet…..

hmmmm……..

In Process…….

I had a counseling appointment this morning. While driving there, I tried to “check in” with myself…..to see how I was doing. How I’d been feeling since my last appointment? Less Anxiety, More Anxiety…Whatever…and as I attempted to “connect”…I found myself shutting down.

Whatever I was trying to connect with or process seemed too great a task and it was as if a huge cement lid was slamming down on top of whatever I was trying to connect into…..I guess, myself…

There was a song on the radio that I liked and so rather than fight against myself…I sang along with the song until it was finished and then I tried again……

I knew I had thoughts and feelings and yet…as I reached inside myself…once again…I shut down.

By this point, I was mildly frustrated and so I tried again…and there was nothing. Brief lines from popular songs flashed through my mind, filling it with meaningless drivel;but I couldn’’ seem to grasp a hold of one concrete, valid thought.

I became aware that this is something I do…..often.

I have so much to think through and so much to deal with and it’s been SO LONG that I’ve been living in a state of heightened stress…at some point I shut down in an effort to not “break” and now it feels like this coping mechanism has crippled me.

It’s possible that my life experiences may also have “broken me”, were I to have fully embraced them all as they came……but I didn’t…

And now…….

I walked into the counselors office and sat down; and chatted about trivial things not pertaining to the matter at hand and then I brought it up.

“I shut down. Often. And I don’t like it.”

It’s kind of like the whole “building walls” analogy…..You get hurt by people, so you start to build walls to protect yourself; and eventually you end up alone inside your great castle, and that loneliness hurts even worse than the possibility of hurt from letting people in…..

I shut down emotionally because my experiences were too great a pain to bear.
I’ve experienced too many intensely hurtful things.
Shutting down has become instinctive and not a choice.
Now, anytime I attempt to work through something that feels the slightest bit “intense”, even if it would be a positive thing…..I shut down and cannot think straight enough to make sense out of any of it.

It’s frustrating.

It feels shameful because it’s something I “should” be able to do.

I laughed when I said that, because I know it’s a fault of mine…..this belief that I should be able to do anything and everything……that I should be in control at all times….that I should be capable to handle anything and everything that comes my way, with no signs of weakness…..How’s that for holding myself to impossible standards?

I feel angry because I don’t like feeling powerless and out of control.

It takes me back to the days that Nathaniel died and was born.

How do you process something like that? How do you carry a baby for 25 weeks; and plan and dream about and love the being that you are growing inside your very soul….how do you cope with having that piece of yourself taken from you? How do you walk away from your heart? How do you deny everything that your gut is saying to you to leave him when you know they will put his body into a cold freezer and yet you must just walk away and leave him there…..where no one loves him….where no once will or can care for him…..

You don’t….you shut down because those thoughts will destroy you…….

My baby died. I can’t even fathom it, and yet I lived through it….I think those are the wrong words, though. I carried on. I kept on going. I shut down and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. A little boy who was the perfect size for his age. A little boy that they could not find anything wrong with. There was no reason that we know of….he was not sick or broken. Just dead.

Even writing this I seem to flash in and out of these feelings of grief. Shut it down….feel……it’s too much….It’s TOO MUCH…..so many tears….so much sorrow held for so many years….He would have been 11 years old this year.

I held him for such a brief moment. I didn’t know what to do and neither, it seemed, did the hospital. I have so many regrets and so much anger inside.

Why didn’t they ask if our families would like to see him?
Why didn’t we call our families in? It would have been so much more real, then….
Why didn’t I hold him to my chest and sob as if my heart was broken into the million tiny shards that it was?
Why was I so scared that holding him was the wrong thing to do, just because he was dead?
Why didn’t the hospital walk us through more….better….with details….or information……or something?

I can’t have these “why’s” answered…..

I’ve existed, laying these “why’s” down because I knew there were no answers to my questions…..but what I have not realized was that in being “logical” I was dismissing or down playing the validity of my emotions…I was shutting down…..

It’s ok for me to be upset that my baby died.
It’s ok for me to be upset that my baby died without a reason.
It’s ok for me to be angry that we were not “helped” along more by the hospital.
It’s ok for me to feel sad that I didn’t hold Nathaniel and cuddle him as much as I would have liked to.
It’s ok that I feel shameful for not knowing what to do……How could I have known?
It’s ok that I feel so many “regrets” because I can never go back to that moment…..

I walked away from the hospital feeling more alone and broken than I had ever felt before in my life. I remember standing in the elevator wishing that I were dead. Wondering if I was, because it wasn’t possible to simultaneously hurt this bad and yet feel nothing.

I felt dead. But I knew because of how badly it hurt to even breathe, that I was so very alive and that I had kids to take care of and that life had to go on.

We came home to an empty, still house…..mirrored by my own emptiness. We walked upstairs to the main floor and I remember hugging Jon, and crying. I felt so helpless…..so out of control……and so desperate for another baby……a living baby.

When I think back to that time…..there are a few things that I remember “doing”…..I don’t remember “feeling” anything other than desperation for a baby to love, to hold, to fill the empty places inside of me……

Siah was born 3.5, very long, very loss-filled, very traumatizing, years later.

I don’t know how you make it through an experience like that without shutting down. Obviously….because I didn’t……..

Now how do I move forward….that is my question…….

I don’t want “shutting down” to be the first thing that I do when faced with…..life….

Because I want to “really live” with authenticity and transparency and passion; and not just exist……

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