Do you hear what I hear?

I can hear the song by almost humming in my ear with the backdrop of winded palm trees swaying. Or crickets, anyways it’s heavenly! I can feel my body sinking into the mattress deeper and deeper I sink. Every minute or so a car would drive by and pull my attention because I’m listening to hear if it’s you. And time and time again it is not you. I wish you hear what I hear.

I am suddenly sad for you for not knowing this or sharing it with me or even just witness me so relaxed; feeling so , innocent, wow innocent? Sad because you can’t hear God the way I can hear God, good or bad. It is true when they say, “no god, no peace; know GOD and Know Peace”. I agree 100%, but if you don’t believe at all, what explaination have you? 

You’ll conform the meet what you think are my needs, but they’re not, because GODS will is real, and yet he gave us “Free Will”. You see, He is the ultimate forgiver, The Father, the Healer Lord of heaven and earth. But never once will you feel it for yourself, in you’re very own heart. 

And when you conform , I will not question as to why, because I know it’s me you’re doing it for. But yet I appreciate you for it. That displays a great demand of respect. Rather I pray, and meditate, waiting on the right answer from my God, My Creator. Praising Him over and again for the many miracles and wonders in my own little world. Does that make you think I’m crazy?  Would you believe me at all? 

When it comes the time for me to grovel at my Heavenly Fathers feet in tears, I want to thank Him for all of the mercy He had shown me, all the blessings and warnings, even some I don’t know about. God is merciful and loving God, an Almighty God and yet you’ll never know or feel Him or His warmth that runs through you like a warmer summer breeze. You won’t feel Him smile from the side over…..you! 

“Oh the Lord my God, Cleaner of my soul, tell me, will I pass through the gates?”

“……and when I do, will the man I love be beside me? For if it is to be so, let me go now, so I can have all eternity enjoying his face listening to his voice. Take me, take me!”

“No one hears me, I’m all alone, God hears me but He is truly the only one, I need to believe that, for there is no simple human on this earth who treasures me the way God does.”

Advertisements

Do you?

There is often a time of the day, any time really when you cross my mind. I don’t know why, I smile sometimes and other times I become angry or sad. I miss you, I know that I do. I think of you often. I try to think of your human flaws to keep me from feeling towards you, but it doesn’t always work. 

I bet you don’t even think of me anymore, maybe a tiny glimpse of a thought, but I doubt it. It’s weird because you’re not aging yet, and I am. So we see things differently yet when we’re together it feels like we see the same. But my eyes can’t unsee, and I cannot give you the sights I’ve seen that have formed me. And quite frankly, you wouldn’t care to. Time goes by so quickly, I wonder if we’ll run into each other again, touch again or even hug again… But know that I pray for you, I pray for your happiness, but I also pray for your pain, it often teaches better than we know. I wish you pain and growth so that peace and strength will feel strong and mighty within you! I love you still. -Me

Dear Kathy, pt 1

Dear Kathy,

As an adult there are so many things I have learned that I wish you could learn also. Unfortunately, it is impossible for me to be the one to share these things with you. Mostly, I wish you could read some John Bradshaw. The particular book I am referring to is Bradshaw on The Family. I have never read a book more particular to my thoughts and feelings as the book, even more so than the Big Book of AA. Sometimes this makes me wonder if I really am an AA or an Al-Anon, Coda, or an ACOA, and most days I am all or some of these roles. I am starting however to see that the most crippling of these, which I once thought was addiction, is really ACOA, or at least for now it is.
I guess I could start by listing some things about you that are bothersome to me, but I think that assignment would be too easy, and I will definitely like the good ADOC I am, will certainly make a million and one excuses for your behavior which typically ands in my own guilt for feeling that I have somehow been mistreated when you may very well have been doing your best. I could in fact do that forever, for the rest of my life, but it would never help that certain void in me. I need to stop looking so much as what happened to you to make you behave in such a way, as I do need to see myself as a child with needs and without sin.
When Bradshaw speaks of shame and makes reference to Gershen Kaufman he quotes that shame is ….a sickness of the soul. As well as stating that, “Shame is a wound felt from the inside, dividing us both from ourselves and from one another.” Shame is kind of self-murder.
Shame murders the soul. And that is so accurate to my opinion of it, if I were ever able to express it, which I was not until the reading of this book. Shame is very different from guilt. Without the ability to see a clear difference, your very emotional and mental health are at risk. The ability to differentiate between the two is of course the job of the parent to teach, which would’ve meant you. Sad to say, this was a role that you were unable to fill, and although I know there is a logical reason behind your emotional handicap, it does not remove the damage that was passed on because of it.
Shame ran my life, and it still does sometimes thanks to the thorough neuro-pathways I have plowed obsessively over the years. You see, what happens with guilt and shame, is that guilt is a label for a behavior, it is temporary. Guilt comes and goes with the consequences of committing an undesirable deed. Shame on the other hand, is owned, it becomes the identity, it is who you are, you are bad rather than the behavior, you are the mistake, not you’ve made a mistake. Shame is an evil power that rapes the soul of any choice as to ever knowing peace. And that is just how I feel.
No matter the amount of therapy, or counseling, or CBT, gives me any hope that I will ever love myself. I feel that no amount of education, understanding or compassion is ever going to move me beyond that shame based identity. I live knowing that I am somehow a decent human being, smart and valued by someone somewhere, but never truly believing it. From infancy, we know the sky is blue because it is what we are told, and the same goes for my self talk.
The piece you don’t remember and will never have to see, if the part of my life where my soul never existed, and or was never given a chance to heal or repair. The 12 Steps are a fantastic band aide for a very long period of time. But eventually, when one gracefully floats off of the cloud of recovery gratitude, the realness of the past will set in. We may not be aware of it, but this is typically when God deems us ready to deal with our inner child issues. I guess I had thought I was chipping away at that all of thee years, by allowing myself to sing in the shower, or occasionally goof off, be selfish and nap all day, or dance around the house like a twerp kid. But it turns out its not so easy.
There is a major component missing in my life or recovery or whatever it is that I am doing. You see, when I am telling my story, it does not even feel like mine, like it happened to me. It is like reading out of a book, there is no connection for me. I DO NOT FEEL IT. I DO NOT FEEL THE PAIN, THE HURT THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THAT LITTLE GIRL. I have separated myself from it so much, that I cant even feel it. I can not even describe what I think I should be feeling. I even feel as though I have possibly felt such deep grief in my life that I can not be hurt. I sometimes feel so broken that I am indestructible. Untouchable. I can not feel the feelings of that little girl. I don’t even know who she is. I don’t even know where or when she died. I wished I knew. I suppose from a therapeutic point of view, I should treat myself like any other hurt child, by holding them, reassuring them and rocking them to safety, but I can not do that for myself. Nor do I even want to. I can feel deeply connected enough to a movie, or a story or a book with tragedy, and pain and grief, but I can not feel it for myself.
I hate being me because sometimes I wish I could feel. But in order for me to feel, the endorphins have to soaring above normal. I need an extreme amount of pleasure to feel even the mildest sense of joy. How will I ever be able to give that to me, I can barely create it with others? The company of others barely if at all stimulates my interest. Another reference Bradshaw made that makes real sense to me is that of psychic numbness being the foundation of what becomes the living dead. That is very familiar to me. I am often in a mindset where I am wondering, am I even alive, is this happening? I feel nothing; I know that I am supposed to feel things, but a lot of the times I cant. I know when my husband touches me I am supposed to feel love and arousal or romance or passion, yet none of those come to play. I know I am supposed to care more deeply about the things that go on in my childrens lives, yet I get away with doing what I have to and not truly being unselfish. Sometimes I feel like I am a horrible child, doing nothing but feeling crazy and acting like a spoiled bitch. And I don’t know why I feel these things, and nothing needs to happen to trigger them. Somedays, I just wake up like that.
Rarely I have days where I do feel smart and confident, but by the end of the day I am so sick of hearing my own voice, so sick of the thought of my ego speaking, that I experience guilt and shame for the following few days for being so self-righteous and ignorant, like what do I really know. Most days of my life I just fake it till I make it.
I hate that everyday I wake up. I hate that everyday when I wake up I remember that I am broken. I hate when I wake up everyday and feel broken that the only person that can fix me, is me. It pisses me off. I have wasted so much time trying to heal, trying not to quit myself, and my children, so much time treating men and relationships with them so disposable. Why is it that I live life with a back pack policy. Take what I can and leave when need be. Never get to comfy, don’t get close, everyone and everything is temporary. I am bored quickly. I could very easily be a horrible and mean person if I had not practiced some seriously disciplined structure through treatment and 12 steps. I don’t ever want to harm another person, but I definitely had to make a conscious effort to learn to have compassion for others.
One thing I can say for sure is that I have zero attachment to any other humans outside of my children. I am sure some shrink somewhere will tell me that is unhealthy as well, which I already know and a lot of the times I just let them share with me what I already know. Yes, the kids and I are the only unconditional and consistent thing we’ve had. Yes I am lost without them, yes I will experience great pain when I am left to my own self without them to focus on. Yes I will wake up and have no one to see but myself. But for now, I want to there for them. Yet my self-defeating behavior will shield me from being truly able to do that as well. Ahhh the age-old question, what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Who’s life is it, theirs or mine? As a Sick person, how do I piece myself back together again and be whole for them at the same time? There is no winning!
I just spend everyday forcing myself to feel better, act better, and do better than what my head tells me I can. And sometimes that means just getting out of bed.

The truth. ..

the truth is ; I am not a good person I have betrayed myself my family my friends. I Know my Karma will find me ; and I Know it won’t feel good.
I now see how with all of my best Calculations of how this might turn out this is one factor I did not Calculate for I did not see the,t coming. I am wrong in my sins no doubt and I Always Knew ‘id eventually pay the piper .
Maybe I am a horrible human being What really were my excuses ? what, I didn’t get what I wanted as a kid ? Not enough attentionnot enough MoraLs  values not enough self-esteem > what drives me to self-sabotage the way I do in the most excellent life I Wanted So badly with my wonderful husband Is everything not enough or too much ? Why do I wreck Myself ? why do I settle for less than value and then become upset When I Cannot adhere to my very own standards, Shame on me God please forgive me. I am still just a being of human flaws and All.

Exposed by my children for what I really look like

Bridgette Tales

Flipping through the pictures on my phone, I see it.

blogpic

My first reaction is shock. Who took this hideous picture of me?

Self-loathing and disgust swell up and threaten to bring me to tears.

Just as I am about to hit delete, my boy walks in the room.

“Do you know anything about this picture?” I ask him.

I turn the screen so he can see it. He smiles huge.

“I took that of you in Tahoe,” he says. “You looked so beautiful laying there. I couldn’t help it mom.”

“You need to ask me before using my phone to take pictures,” I say.

“I know,” he says. “But mom, seriously, look how pretty you look?”

I look at the picture again and try to see what he sees.

My daughter walks over and takes a look.

“That could be a postcard mom,” she says smiling. “You’re so beautiful. I…

View original post 346 more words

The day today.

Today was a god day, with an exchange of messages from a friend about school scheduling, and talks of going back in the fall, I feel like I am already getting refocused. I am only a handful of credit short of my associates, and I could not be more proud of myself. For this woman, it is an accomplishment I was told I could never achieve.

In a couple of more years, I will be even more astonished at the challenge ill accept in the Bachelors program, and then on to certificates, and specialties and then eventually a masters in the desired field of destination. I am so proud that God had a better plan for me then my family had. I am not doomed to be a failure, I just simply refuse. I will show my girls that I loved them enough to never give up on my dreams, that I will never settle for less than I am capable up. I will never quit, not growing is not an option. I will show them that no matter comes at you in your life, you never have to throw up the white flag and surrender, unless it promotes spiritual growth. And that would require for God to have another plan for you, and if so, He will let you know what is meant to be.

The other week I walked through some serious fear and really exposed myself by asking for the chance to advance my training in the field I more desire on a unit that I am not “qualified for my degree”, I took a risk, and rumor has it, that it just might materialize for me. I will not get my hopes up, but to know that I was even considered, is a bonus to know. I am valuable, I am worthy and I am an asset to others. One of these days I will not only know it because others think so, I will know it because I will think so. Everything happens for a reason, I am ok with either result, stay in the position I am or move on. I am confident that God has a plan for me, He has not abandoned me yet and has brought this far. He will not leave me now when I am dying to do His work. I am so grateful, and I would love to hop back on here soon and tell you I have great news very soon, but again, just the fact that I was considered is a reason alone to be grateful.