Life Journey

Tonight I am trying to remind myself that life is a journey, and that every day, no matter how difficult it may seem, is part of a bigger picture. It is all happening as God's way of preparing you for what is yet to come.

What Do You Hear In These Sounds

I had forgotten this song by Dar Williams, but as soon as I heard it again, it hit home.
My favorite line:

And when I talk about therapy, I know what people think That it only makes you selfish and in love with your shrink But Oh how I loved everybody else When I finally got to talk so much about myself............

What Do You Hear In These Sounds
Dar Williams

I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak I go and I find the one and only answer every week And it's just me and all the memories to follow Down any course that fits within a fifty minute hour And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent And she's so kind, I think she wants to tell me something, But she knows that its much better if I get it for myself... And she says

Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, What do you hear in these sounds? And... Oooooooh,aaaaaaah What do you hear in these sounds?????

I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving And she says "Oh", I say "What?"...she says "Exactly", I say"What, you think I'm angry Does that mean you think I'm angry?" She says "Look, you come here every week With jigsaw pieces of your past Its all on little soundbytes and voices out of photographs And that's all yours, that's the guide, that's the map So tell me, where does the arrow point to? WHO INVENTED ROSES?" and.......

Oooooooh,aaaaaaah What do you hear in these sounds? And...Oooooooh,aaaaaaah What do you hear in these sounds?????

And when I talk about therapy, I know what people think That it only makes you selfish and in love with your shrink But Oh how I loved everybody else When I finally got to talk so much about myself............

And I wake up and I ask myself what state I'm in And I say well I'm lucky, cause I am like East Berlin I had this wall and what I knew of the free world Was that I could see their fireworks And I could hear their radio And I thought that if we met, I would only start confessing And they'd know that I was scared They'd would know that I was guessing But the wall came down and there they stood before me With their stumbling and their mumbling And their calling out just like me...and...

Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, The stories that nobody hears...and...

Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, and I collect these sounds in my ears...and

Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, that's what I hear in these sounds...and...

Like a Little Girl

Suddenly the flood gates broke and I began saying the things I've been holding back for months. My father responds with the stuff he's been holding back. Suddenly I'm 10 years old again and I'm sobbing. I feel myself get light headed and the words begin to choke me again. I hear him and respond in my head, but all that comes out is tears. A constant flow of tears and my head spins. I occasionally try to defend myself or make him understand, but mostly I just cry. I feel trapped, and little. I am thankful when he ends it and says he is leaving. I wanted to stop arguing, stop hurting each other much before that, but again the words just stuck there. They swirl through my head at such a rate that I can hardly make sense of them, but they never escape my lips. As he leave I feel myself crumble. Once shin feeling like I have failed them. Feeling like I have failed me. Like I have just plain failed. I cry harder. I am still 10 years old, I feel disloyal, dishonest and cowardly. What I want most, is what every sad little girl wants. I want someone to scoop me up, wrap me in warmth, and make me feel safe. I look around and find no one there. Now I have failed and it has left me alone, unloved, and crying like a child while I wait for someone to come rescue me. But I am not a child, and knowing this makes me feel even more like I am not ok. Like there MUST be something wrong with me. Why am I crying like a child? Why am I sitting there alone in a dark store? Why am I so unlovable that I deserve to be sitting there alone when I have a husband, parents, and children, a family? What on Earth is wrong with me? What have I done that makes it so hard for someone to be compassionate toward me?

These feelings and questions overwhelm me, and by the time my husband arrives, I am beyond needy. I am a little girl, sitting in the dark, alone, scared, and feeling unimportant, unloved. He does not see this little girl though. The one who is scared and alone. What he sees is a grown woman who he expects to know and understand that he loves her. So the girl is once again alone, feeling like she is unlovable, unsafe, unimportant.

I tell the little girl. I love her. I hear her, and she gets quiet. But I know she is still inside of me. Still full of self doubt, and fear, and blame. She is still scared and lonely, just praying and waiting for someone to wrap her in warmth and safety.

Under Water

Over the last few days, I have lost more and more ground in my battle with my depression. Every time I fight my way to the surface, I seem to get pulled back down some how. I am getting to the point where I no longer want to fight. It seems there is no escape. Like there is an imaginary rope tethering me to the bottom of a deep, and angery ocean. I am left feeling frustrated, stressed, and strained. Barely, able to catch a breath. I keep looking around for something to hang onto. A hand to grab, something to just keep me a float, a kind word, a loving look. I see it all there, just beyond reach. No matter how I try to hold on, my grip slips away. It feels like I can go days without having someone utter a positive word to me. I am retreating into my own mind. I remind myself daily to love thyself, honor thyself, but it seems to only get me to the surface, not keep me a float. Warm salty tears roll down my cheeks again as I feel the ocean waves wash over me once more. I pray, I pray everyday, that I am able to reach the air again, and stay there for a little longer this time. I pray that I am able to see light, to feel loved. I pray that I can find something to hold me, shelter me. So that I can have a few moments to float there, steadily, relaxed by the gentle rocking of the water, instead if knocked around by a raging sea.

self-compassion-how-value-yourself

This is something I absolutely fall short on, but not only does it have a good article, but actual exercises on how to improve yourself. I am going to try it. I'll let you know how it goes.

36 years of pain

Wed is my birthday. I will be 36 years old and I will have spent the majority of those 36 years trying to make people like me, love me, or at least respect me. Hell in some cases I'd settle for just seeing me, me as I really am, without changes, or conditions. Lately, it has all come to a head. I got married to someone my family disapproves of. This new act of disloyalty, as it has been seen, has brought on a fresh bout of rejection, and pain. See, I have know for some time that my parents and sister love me out of family duty, but, for the most part don't like me, or see me as very capable, or strong. While I am sure I have played that roll at times, I am not the girl they think I am. All of my life, I have tried in vain, to find that unconditionalness I want so badly. Romanticly, always choosing the guy that keeps me at arms length. I have battled depression and anxiety for a long time because of this constant feeling of rejection. Lately, it feels as though it is breaking me though, like I am turning into that unstable, easily wounded little girl that my family has always seen me as. I lash out in rage at anyone who reminds me how "unimportant" I am. How unworthy of love, respect, and acceptance I am. Friends, my new husband, even my daughter and step daughter are feeling the after shocks. Afterward, I am ashamed. I hate the way I act, the way I drive people away when I need them the most. I hate myself for giving in, for losing control of my actions and emotions. I hear the voices from the past echo in my head
"you are over reacting"
"you are too sensitive"
"What is wrong with you?"
"it was a joke, knock it off"
"I never know how you are going to interpret what I say to you."
All of it implying I am the problem. I am the one to blame. I have begun to believe it now. I have begun to believe I am out of control, emotionally disturbed, unstable, and at fault. It has eaten away at me for 36 years, and now I am unstable, and I do hate myself. I blame myself, and I am convinced I am not deserving, or able to get the type of love and compassion I crave. I am in an endless cycle of hating myself for becoming the person they told me I should not be....I am weak. I scream and cry like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but in the end, no one comes to comfort me, and I feel less and less important or ok with each tear, and I have begun to fall apart.

Anatomy of a Breakdown

I have been delicately balancing sanity verses insanity, busy verses overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical for several weeks now. Then I collapse on the bed, sobbing and gasping for air, then sobbing some more. I am scared and desperate to get myself under control. Finally, I become numb and am able to move again. The panic comes in waves now, and without warning. My mind is spinning and I am overwhelmed by it all. I try to reach out for help, but the worlds I have fail me, and new words can not be pulled from memory as my every thought becomes jumbled. I feel like the weight of the world is upon me, and I am crumbling beneath all the things that used to bring me happiness. I am angry. I am scared. I am frustrated. I begin to lash out. My temper becomes short and I am not able to tolerate noises, and my skin feels like it is crawling. "Why does no one see me? Why does no one help, offer me comfort, offer me safety?" I am angry with them all, and I am yelling more loudly now, then I am SCREAMING. It is as though I am sitting helplessly as I watch reason and ration escape me. And all at once, I am screaming as loud as I can and I am hitting someone I love. The rage fills me to a degree I can not explain. My words are full of hate and venom. I am full rage. "SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF!...." The words escape my lips almost before my head comprehends them. In my head there are screams of frustration. Screams of pain, and the overwhelming need to feel loved and important. Yet, yet I can not stop the rage that is pushes people away. I go to the only coping mechanism I have left, and I turn my anger on myself. I begin to cut myself as a form of release. As the flames begin to die, the anger turns to shame, and pain, and fear. I begin to sob, and just like the rage, the sorrow overwhelms me quickly. In no time at all, I am hysterical. The following day, I feel the physical affects. My arms are cut and stinging, There are bruises I don't remember getting, and all of my muscles ache. My head pounds from the tension and strain of all the emotion. I replay scenes in my mind and fill with guilt over the things I have done and said. I wonder what is wrong with me? Why can I not control this? I feel weak and crazy. I am embarrassed, and I don't want anyone to know how out of control I am. This is not me. This is not who I am. I am better than this. I am stronger than this. Why can't I do this? Why can't I control this? I am terrified now. I desperate as I am to control these emotions, I am terrified of my own darkness. I have been done this path before and it made me feel pathetic and sad. People took pity on me, or saw me as someone who needed to be handled with kid gloves or someone who needed to be fixed. I am NONE OF THOSE THINGS and I refuse, I REFUSE to allow myself to be seen that way. Now, what I ask myself. I know I can need help. I know I will continue to spin out of control until something interrupt my momentum, but asking for help will let other people know I am weak. So I continue to walk that line of sane verses insane, busy verses overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical, knowing that any little shift will throw me off balance once again.