Hey friends. How goes it? You made it to Friday. WE made it to the end of another week in a world gone mad. Congrats. I know that sounds insane, but come on, we have to celebrate the little things, no? I’m not wishing away time. I mean sure, if I could move this COVID 19 shit along a little faster, I certainly would. But I’m not looking to wake up having wondered where the fuck my week/month/year went. Not even a little. If you’ve read this blog before then you know that’s something I actually really fear. I might even claim I have an unhealthy fear when it comes to the passage of time. Anyway, I digress…
It’s the end of another week. Another tough week. Another week where I had some struggles to contend with and the realization of the work I have in front of me. Not easy, but also, I know I’m up for the challenge.
Directly in line with my revelations, this week and what I’m contending with are the two excerpts I’m sharing today. I’m proud to tell you that I [mostly] don’t do what’s described in the words you are about to read. I used to. A lot. The behavior I’m describing in those sentences was my go-to for a long time. What am I talking about? The denial of reality and the clinging to self-destructive patterns.
Let’s be clear, I am not always two-feet firmly planted in the real world. Not by a long shot. The thing is, I do the work to ground myself on a daily basis. When I feel myself start to fly away or resort to denial because things feel painful, I face the pain. I don’t run from it anymore. In the same way, while I might find myself dipping back into long held and subscribed to patterns and habits when it comes to relationships, I also find myself giving myself the slap on the wrist I need to STOP. I don’t always stop in the cleanest way. That’s the truth. My stoppage is sometimes a little too late, a little messy, and a lot trying. BUT, I get there. I do. I might shed a few tears or toss out an exasperated sigh before I get there, but I. Get. There.
Like everything and anything else we wish to change in life, you have to dip back to move forward. You have to be able to recognize shit before you avoid it. I’ll hit that damn pothole in the road a couple of times before I know how to swerve just right to avoid it altogether, you know?
Here goes nothing…
Chapter 6
You’re the only one who can up and run
Leave me just as empty as the day you came
And you hold all the cards, all the broken hearts
Strung over your shoulder till it’s all in vain
Zedd and Ellen Duhe,
“Happy Now”
Most tragic stories tend include some element whereas the harmed party or those closest to the victim express a premonition of sorts. There is a point in the story in which someone says that they have a feeling that things aren’t going to end happily ever after. If not an indication prior to the offensive event or events, then there is always someone who shares after the fact that they knew something god-awful was lingering on the horizon. They might even express that they couldn’t quite identify the thing itself, but only that they felt something; something off, something odd, and something decidedly evil. I have no shame in admitting that I knew nothing. Nada. Zip.
Sure, now I see the signs that were there but retrospection is a beautiful thing. At the time, I was blissfully ignorant. If an ominous thought crossed my emotional threshold, I pushed it as far away as I could, as fast as was humanly possible. If someone raised a concern or tried to point to a red flag, I came up with every excuse in the book. I was in the deepest throes of denial that one could experience. I wasn’t tragically unaware; I was purposefully oblivious. When I even skimmed the surface of what was actually going on, or what was to come, I backed off with the speed of someone placing a full palm over an open flame. I believed my rejection of reality to be self-protecting and safe. It wasn’t. I was drowning and instead of grabbing a life raft, I reached for a fifty pound weight. I didn’t recognize it for what it was or how it would accelerate my sinking until it was way too late.
Chapter 7
Nobody here knocking at my door
The sound of silence I can’t take anymore
Nobody ringing my telephone now
Oh how I miss such a beautiful sound
Armin van Buuren feat. Trevor Guthrie,
“This is What it Feels Like”
I distinctly remember being a young girl and being asked what I wanted to be when I grew up and what I wanted my life to look life. I pondered silly questions like who I would take to prom, what kind of house I’d like to live in, and what noble profession I would attach myself to. I never worked into my story a massive heartbreak or the idea of my life turning upside down. I didn’t think I’d end up single and devastated in my late thirties. In truth, none of these particular events would have been feasible because I felt strong and self-assured. It’s not as if I didn’t think life could throw some pretty insane curveballs. I suppose I just thought I would exercise the proper judgment when choosing who to share my life with. Actually, the thought process was not even that purposeful. I was just committed to happiness and the path that led to fulfillment of my goals.
A vision of anything else just didn’t materialize during this journey, not even when I made hugely misguided decisions as a young woman. I saw them as part of the growing-up process. I felt confident that I would move through these incidents, emerging stronger and more resilient. Those incidents, situations, and relationships were all just trials that would eventually lead to where I was ultimately meant to be. I had no idea at the time that these decisions would simply culminate in the most epic of terrible life decisions. I was clueless that my patterns were just that and I was destined for unhappiness unless something changed. I just didn’t know that the thing that had to change was me.
END OF BOOK EXCERPT.
Pretty self-explanatory, no? Like the other sections, tough. Really tough. But the light at the end of the tunnel? If you see what you’ve done to hurt yourself, you can make different choices. It’s not easy, but you can. I promise you. I am.
Have an awesome weekend. Happy August.
Talk to you next week.
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