Cinco de Mayo

Thirty years ago today, my father died.  Four years ago today, my mother died.  Both were pronounced at the same time, something I found dealing with an insurance policy that did not exist for my mother.  While many people celebrate release on this day, I do so in another way.

I release the lives of my parents to the universe.

I release the promise my father wanted from my mother delivered 26 years later.

I release the idea that there is randomness in the universe.

I release.

Putting on my game face

Today I have to go in and face a fear.  The fear of losing my condo, not because I have not made payments, but due to a technicality in the original mortgage.  I am fairly sure, in my logical mind, that this will be worked out.  It may take some time, and it definitely will take work.  In point of fact, it may be the push I need to move to something different.

My logical mind is fighting a battle with my illogical mind.  I get visions of them telling me I have two days to move, that they lock me out of my pets and my possessions without notice, that they send thugs to beat me up. All illegal, and I know it will not happen.

I most likely will have noting to worry about, and most likely will be inconvenienced in some sort of way.  Doable.  Not optimal.  And this may all be a tempest in a teapot, as my mother would have said.  I am staying in touch with my fear, as doing so makes it more manageable.  Going to my anger,though some may say it is justified, is not going to help or solve this.  I am going to be told hard truths, truths I already know.  Truths I ignored in anger.  This is what my anger gets me. Chaos. Trouble. Eating away of my peace of mind and stress on body. It is not my friend. It is the place I learned to go to that once was a save haven in my mind.  A peaceful cove created by me running there and avoiding truths and shutting out others with my rage. Now instead of a beach of beautiful sands glittering against the sapphire blue inlet, surrounded by steep cliffs covered in beautiful flowers, it is a garbage dump.  Littered with the destruction of my anger.

I will walk with my head on straight, take my consequences, my actions, and I am going to move into healing. Fear as my friend.

Fighting back

Fighting back depression is not an easy battle.  It is like fighting against a level five hurricane dragging you into a deep well and you are trying to pull yourself out.  You are pelted with the debris of the life you have and are living.  Staying above the wall of the well enough that maybe a tree branch is going to hold you out.  That is when you do it by yourself.  So when you do it with others, trained and trusted, then you have more than a tree branch to hold onto.  You have a link that can, if you are willing to fight for it enough, will help you work your way out of the hole.

The decision to fight was a journey in its self.  The fight is now on.

My anger is born of fear.  When I get angry, 95% of the time it is because I am afraid of something.  For the last decade or more of my life, I have lived in fear, and thus in anger.  I have run off the good people in my life by enlarge, and attracted a whole slew of toxic, dangerous people. Finally, I am tired of living like this, so getting my anger out is not the problem. Getting the fear out is.  Remembering the times and things that scared me are my clue to solving both problems.  Anger and burying my fears in my anger.

 

What I have been doing makes about as much sense as going to climb Mt. Everest in swim gear.  To keep people from seeing my vulnerability through my fears, I put the fear in a large well, the well of my depression, the one with the hurricane.  Then I get angry.  This chaos is the hurricane of my life. For years I have been battered by doing this to myself.  It is past time for me to stop and find the peace I deserve.  The peace I now crave.  The peace that will give me better health and a better life. The ability to make better decisions in my personal, financial, and spiritual life.

 

The first time I remember being fearful was when I was two.  I woke up and my mother was on her way to the hospital.  Family friends were there to take me for an overnight.  My father would be by in a little while.  I knew a new brother or sister was coming home, but I wanted my Mommy.  And when Daddy came, and he was crying, he said Mommy would be home in a few days, and then I would come home.  I wasn’t going to have a new brother.  He had died.  I wanted to see Mommy,. but Daddy said no  because the hospital wouldn’t let it. So I was sure Mommy was dead too.  I cried and cried.  In the bedroom of my parents friends. They did not know what to do with me, so they let me cry myself to sleep while the lady sat there trying to comfort me.

I took the fear home with me.  So scared my Mommy would be gone again, I followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom.  And Mommy was so sad.  Sometimes we would just sit and cry together.  It got better, but this hole dug by fear has never left my heart or soul.  Instead, it got bigger.  So many things that I did. So many things I need to stop doing.  One day at a time. I will stop doing things that are chaos and mayhem to my life.

 

 

Where did they go?

Okay.  I surrender.  I tried to publish on my new tablet, and now they are somewhere in cyberspace.  I am just about to give up.  I can’t get into  my Dropbox, my WordPress, or create on my new tablet.  ARGHHHHH.

 

Now that is over with, and I am home and kind of caught up on other things, I am starting a new routine tomorrow morning.  Something that will be beneficial to my health, and my music and my writing.  I have to do this, or I will just slide off into a blob and be a disappointment to myself.  I do not care if anyone else agrees with my steps to make my life better.  It will not do so unless I make it happen.  And I must start now.

Lessons from childhood

Some of the lessons we learn from childhood are anchors that keep us from drifting out to sea, while other lessons cut off the roots of our ability to explore the world.  An anchor, as a boat anchor, needs to be able to come up to the ship so that we can be flexible at times in our lives.  If not, we live less than lives.

I had wonderful parents.  They made sure that I was well taken care of with food, housing, clothing and education.  They taught me that my choices have consequences, and that nobody but myself will either benefit or suffer from these.  They also made sure that I had a nuclear family, even though my grandparents were gone long before I was born.  I know they loved me, and more than anything wanted to protect me from harm.

One of the biggest lessons they taught me was about was work before fun.  Get your work done and the fun is even sweeter.  You do not have work and fear of not getting it done hanging over your head.  You can go and enjoy your fun knowing that the work is done and not clouding your mind and distracting you from the people and the activity you are engaging in.  Unfortunately, this seems to not be a lesson everyone gets.

Another lesson is that there are things you can not take back and do over.  You can not take back hurtful actions or words.  You can not take back anything you do for the first time to the place of before.  The memory of doing the thing will always be there, even if you never do it again.  Some of these actions will also totally change your reputation.  It only takes one time driving drunk and killing someone for you to earn a different view of yourself, and others to earn a different view of you.  You can pay your debt to society, and be forgiven by the families, but the stain of what you did will always be there.  Other firsts we can never totally take back are sex, recreational drug use, steps, teeth – some wonderful firsts that propel us into life, and others that have the potential to derail us.

Giving an anchor that does not move can stagnate our lives.  One anchor that my mother gave me was that people are dangerous and she even had me believing that there was a boogyman behind every bush, building corner, car just waiting to jump out and harm me.  As a child, there was a park not too far from our home in Florida.  To go to the small market and get my treat with my allowance, I had to walk by this park.  The bushes were a good ten to twenty yards back from the sidewalk, small, and easily to see through.  Yet my palms would sweat, my heart would beat faster, and I always ran by this even with my friends to get to the market.  I always tried to play it off as I was in a hurry to get there.  Halloween was the most terrifying holiday.  I tried to act brave, but was sure every costumed person was out to abduct me.  

Another place that I was terrified of was the wooded area and creek behind our apartment in Iowa when we first moved in.  The most terrifying thing ever was when I would have to go and get my brother to come in for the night from there.  I was sure not only he was dead, but I would never find him, and would either die on the way there or leaving.  A painful death.  And my body would never be found.

As a small child, this made me have nightmares almost every night.  I never knew what abducting would result in, but I knew it was not good, would hurt and separate me from my family.  As an older child, it made me fearful that I was going to be raped and murdered in such a way that would be gruesome, and I would bring shame on my family with a headline of “Girl Raped and Murdered Because She Walked By a Bush”.  

Irrational?  Absolutely.  The fears that my mother had also imprisoned her until the day she died.  In fact, they got worse as she aged.  In my life, because I have double and tripled questioned if people are good or toxic in my life, I have been held captive in relationships that were toxic to me, and let relationships slip by that would be wonderful.  Ahh, the power of an anchor firmly planted in the sea floor that you never exercise the use of the wench to bring it up and let the boat of life move a little.  Turn to see what is on the other side, or get close to land so that it can see something different.  Never to explore the rest of the ocean.  Just stay in port all the time.  Storms come, and you do not outrun them.  Nope, you just stay and are bombarded by the wind, waves and other ships that are off anchor and tossed as rubbish.

We give our children many great gifts in teaching limits.  We need to also give them the gift of how to explore and take care of themselves.  Sometimes, they need to lift the anchor, even if it is not like we would.  The world is ever changing.  The world has many wonderful people and places.  If we are afraid to go, then we are missing a lot, and worse than that, we are in harms way.