stillness, impermanence

I try to get in touch with the season. I read about it. I must romanticize about it, too, because my god the work of it is a bitch. Jake told me today that I need to be nicer to myself, that I need to just let myself be, just like bears who hibernate this time of year. Except he had his own way of telling me. And I needed to hear it. 

We had some other very relevant conversations, too, namely about community and relationships and our own hypocrisy when we’re actually out amongst humanity. We ran to the store in spite of the weather, and I kept this conversation in mind throughout multiple annoyances while we were out. The work is always a bitch.

My spirituality is very important to me. And a lot of self-reflection, as well as conversations with Jake, remind me of how hypocritical I still am. I just feel like I spend a lot of time in quiet reflection, but when it comes to actually practicing what I believe, it’s so damn hard. I guess that’s kinda the point though, right? Growth isn’t easy. Life isn’t easy. I’m human I guess. I’m worlds better than I used to be. I suppose there’s a reason enlightenment isn’t necessarily achievable until we’re dead.

I’ve had exactly 3 potdots, and I can’t tell if it’s helping or hurting my current mental state. Depression has been rough lately. I thought it was hormonally-induced, and while it’s improved since getting my period, something is still very wrong. I’m struggling with different life stressors that I don’t want to get into here. I feel incredibly fucked in certain ways. The nature of living under capitalism. I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive. Then again, I guess none of us will.

Anyway…

Stillness. Something I could desperately use. As I’ve learned though through numerous teachings I’ve listened to (and real life), the harder we fight something the less likely we are to avoid it. For instance, I can’t resist and fight against my internal pain and suffering and expect to suddenly feel better. ”What you resist persists.” I have to be with it, stare it in the face, learn what it really feels like, and accept it as a lovely guest and have zero expectations of it staying or going. And while doing that, remember: everything is impermanent. The good. The bad. So just embrace my ability to feel and self-reflect and call it a day.

I need to write more often when I’m stoned. I feel like I can articulate my thoughts in a way I usually can’t. It’s a great feeling. 

If I haven’t been clear in previous posts, vet tech school really did me in. Working full-time (third shift no less), full-time internship, full-time classes, full-time homework, all at the same time. It’s been almost two years since I graduated and I still feel stuck. I desperately need to get unstuck. Maybe this year will be my year. 

I do have a good feeling about 2024. I have a different job now. I work a different shift, and have a mostly normal sleep schedule. I have something of a routine. My spirituality is strengthening. I’m meeting new people and seeking out new experiences…though follow-through will be important. I’m trying.

As you can probably gather, I can’t slow my mind down. Just like everyone else I’m sure. Maybe I shouldn’t even think about trying to. Just let the thoughts come and go, like leaves in the wind, like ripples in a pond, like leaves on a river, like clouds in the sky. Come and go. Everything is impermanent.

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remember your dreams

Maybe you’ve been unlucky.  Or depending on your outlook, maybe you’ve been fortunate.  Life jolted you awake, shit happened, and you remembered what happens when you build your life around someone else.  Everything you knew changed.

Three years ago tomorrow I decided my marriage was over and I would file for divorce.

My partner and I have been discussing marriage for a while now, and we decided it’s time to start planning.  So, we called ourselves “engaged” and decided to tell everyone.  It’s exciting, though I’m in no hurry.  I’ve learned what independence feels like.  I’ve learned who I am.  I’m still learning.  And I’m discovering what I’m capable of and what my dreams are.  Life is a journey.  Why rush it?  Just enjoy the ride.

That’s one of the most important lessons I’ve learned.  Don’t force yourself into anything.  Take your time.  Discover where your passions are and try to enjoy where you are, even if it’s not where you ultimately want to be.

One of my biggest fears has been falling into old habits, namely, building my life around someone else and their dreams while letting mine take a back seat.  I don’t ever want to make that mistake again.  Things are different now in the sense that I work full time, and I didn’t used to.  My ex was actually pretty financially supportive.  That’s a role I’ve stepped into now, and it’s challenging because I don’t make a lot and I have many debts hanging above my head and many repairs and projects I need to complete.  These aren’t just my goals, these are my dreams.  And someday I will move away from psych and ideally work with animals and wildlife.  Hopefully.  Who knows, but I know I would love this.  That’s where my passion lies.

So while my life moves forward, I try to keep in mind that I need to take care of myself and my own dreams, too.  Take time out for me and the things I want to do.  Save resources for myself.  Make happen the things I’ve wanted to have happen for years but they never did, because I was too busy depending and waiting on someone else.

No more.  I’m in control of my own life.  Shit may happen that I can’t control, and then I can only control how I manage it.  I’m not powerless, and neither are you.  At the end of the day, and the end of our lives, we have to answer to ourselves.

In the lyrics of a song by Ani Difranco, she counts down, says you’re done for good, and asks “did you do all you could?”  I want to be able to say yes.  It’s my life, god damn it.  No one else will live it for me.  It’s the only thing I have that’s all mine.  And I want to do all I can.  I want to realize my dreams and make them reality, with whatever limited resources I have available.  I’ll have to be creative, but life and growth is all about creativity.  We’re in it together.

 

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validation and healing

Even though I worked a full shift today it kinda felt like a day off since my evening was free (worked a mid shift). Maybe because I had this free evening and some time to think, I had a lot of things on my mind.

A lot of emotions surrounding grief came up today. Grief surrounding Claudia’s death really hit me when I was walking in the backyard with a dog I’m babysitting. It hit me again later, too. I really miss her.

This is going to sound stupid, but something triggered a memory earlier. Not only do I not remember what triggered it, but I don’t remember the exact memory that was triggered, either. It had something to do with music or a movie or something I shared with my now ex husband right around the time our marriage was falling apart. And I thought about how if I ever got exposed to this thing again it would bring me right back to that dark place I was then. I thought about how odd it seems to feel like I’ve done a lot of healing surrounding this loss, and yet there’s still a ridiculous amount of healing to be done.

This thought came up again later and I had this strange curiosity. I wondered if my ex would be similarly triggered by such things and if they are still grieving. But I thought about how, while I may care about this as a friend would care, at the same time it really doesn’t matter and isn’t my concern (to the extent that it has nothing to do with my process). I don’t need my ex to grieve to the extent that I do (or have) or to have their grief look like mine in order for my grief, pain, etc. to be valid.

This is a big step for me because I wasn’t always like this. So much shit happened that destroyed me (which honestly makes me wonder if the fact that I’ve completely blanked on what made this all come up earlier is my brain’s defense against pain). Feelings like what came up earlier remind me that grief is a continuous process. It also reminds me of when everything first started coming undone, and especially when the relationship ended with me and my ex husband. The fact that they didn’t seem to be grieving to the same extent, or dealing with the same shit in general, added further insult to injury and destroyed me even more. On some level I felt that their seeming lack of pain made me feel even more crazy.

There’s an important lesson here, and it’s come up time and again in a handful of my closest relationships, all of which were romantic except for one. The other person’s validation (or lack of it) doesn’t define the legitimacy of my pain.

Don’t expect someone who hurt you to own up to it and validate everything you’re feeling as a result of the pain they caused. I’m lucky in the sense that my ex husband has since been very validating and owned up to shit. But even if they hadn’t, it was still real to me. I’ve been emotionally abused by others and been invalidated and also blamed for how I was treated. This is so wrong on so many levels, but I can’t allow my healing and growth process to be paused (or stopped completely) because someone else refuses to acknowledge the hurt they caused and call it what it is. Just as they are responsible for their actions, I’m responsible for mine. I’m responsible for my healing and the pace it takes. That’s my process to own. It’s not easy, it takes a ridiculous amount of time, and honestly, I think it’s an ongoing process that never stops. I can’t let anyone hold me back and stop me from becoming a wiser, healthier, more aware me. I own myself. You own yourself. We can take back the power we give others and help each other do the same. We’re in it together, right?

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love for people to own their shit and acknowledge it for what it is. This would not only speed the healing process a bit, but it could mend relationships I try to continue (thinking family here) and make the end of others a bit less bitter. But at the end of the day I don’t need it. I don’t need someone else’s permission to call something what it is and grieve accordingly. And neither do you. Keep moving forward.

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the process

A number of months back I wrote about how excited I was to finally have some serious relief from my depression.  It was the first time in my life I felt genuinely happy, and I credited the antidepressant I was (and still am) on for helping me.  Given the nature of depression I also knew a day would come when it came back, but it happened too damn soon.  I went into a depression after an increase in the same medicine that was helping me (I’ve since decreased it twice without the same beneficial effects it previously had) and I had my old Claudia euthanized around the same time.

Since that time I’ve become close to someone, as close as you can get when you have a long distance relationship and talk over a screen.  It won’t stay long distance, and knowing that makes this wait a tiny bit more bearable.

My point is that good things are happening in spite of the shit.  I’m still struggling a lot, especially lately.  I started birth control about a month ago and blamed that since it previously put me in a depression, but only for the first month.  I’ve been taking the placebo for about a week now and have had no relief.

I honestly don’t know what’s going on anymore but it honestly freaks me out.  I want very much to talk to somebody about all of this and how shitty things are starting to get, but I don’t for a few reasons.  I don’t want to be a burden.  I’m so tired of this cycle and I’m afraid people will get sick of me, they’ll push me away, or whatever.  Some of the people in my life, as much as I love them, play the role of positivity police.  I know they mean well and this has helped them before, but that shit isn’t going to work for me right now.

So I’ve started to isolate again.  I miss my friends and I want to talk to them more, but they’re getting along fine so why should I interfere with that?  People have their lives, they have good things going on, they have life shit, and I don’t want to get in the way.  I just do what I do and try to keep moving.  I’m tired of sounding like a broken record.  I hurt so much inside and I’m finding myself falling back into this old pattern of drinking to numb out again.  I know this isn’t good.  I think about the unit I work on at the hospital and how easily I could have been/could be a patient there.  Sure, there are people that drink a fifth or more a day, and I don’t come close to that.  Then there are people like me who have a few drinks (beer) a day, or maybe drink when they wake up to take off the edge.  I did that yesterday.  I can’t remember the last time I did that, or if I ever did it at all.

I’ve been through this before and I don’t want to do it again.  I know the value of feeling my feelings and actually sorting through my shit instead of numbing it out with alcohol or painkillers.  I know this shit isn’t popular to talk about and these are issues that aren’t smiled on, but I hope my openness can not only bring some release and healing for me, but healing for others, too.  So here I am.

I’m incredibly frustrated with myself because, as I said, I have a lot of good happening right now.  I think I also just have a lot of emotional shit I’m trying to sort through.  And to be honest there are some other issues in life at the moment.

I don’t really know in what order to go, so I’ll just start with this.  I’m obviously still grieving Claudia.  Sometimes I’ll be going about my day and I’ll think of her, particularly her last moments.  I’ll remember that moment in the backyard, reading her eulogy, the way she collapsed (with her head on me, seemingly in exhaustion) after I read the line, “I can tell you’ve been tired”.  I think of how she just went to sleep with the anesthetic, how I held her close and kept telling her how much I loved her.  And then they injected her with the phenobarbitol and I felt her go and I felt a part of me go.  This plays in my head over and over again.  The panic attacks after she died and how badly I wanted to bring her back.  Wondering if I did the right thing.  Beating myself up for waiting as long as I did and recalling how much of her the dementia took away.

For the first time since I’ve started there, things feel very uneasy at my full time job.  There are budget issues and it’s definitely affecting staffing.  My favorite people (who I also work with the most) are either quitting or transferring to another unit.  Everything is changing.  Even the staff culture…people are so negative now.  And I’m watching all the younger people I work with move on in their lives and make something of themselves.  What am I doing?  Where is my life going?  I’m going to be 32 in two months and feel just as lost as I did before.  I don’t know what to do.

I find myself getting increasingly more blunt with patients.  I think I’m pretty professional about it, but it honestly makes me nervous how much shorter my fuse is becoming.  I don’t know if the hormonal shit is still throwing me off or what, but I really don’t feel like myself lately.  It’s nice to feel like I’m becoming more assertive, but my decreased tolerance for certain shit worries me.

I think it’s to be expected that pursuing a relationship has me face to face with a lot of my not so old shit.  And my old shit.  I’m incredibly fortunate because he is so understanding on so many levels.  I’m trying to be very careful, and I’m trying to learn what it’s like to actually feel safe again.  He’s proving to me that I can, but it’s still hard.  I let my guard down many times before and it didn’t end well.  But I don’t want to live with a wall up and miss out on something beautiful.  So here we are.  It’s just little things that get me that I know shouldn’t because he’s clearly not like the others.  These are the struggles when you have trust issues…trouble trusting your own perceptions, and trouble trusting others.

Thanks to more recent drama and also finally diving into a book on rebuilding yourself after parental emotional abuse, a lot of my past shit is on my mind.  I’m processing a lot of past hurts all over again, and more recent ones.  I’m seeing how the hurts I dealt with growing up led to me allowing myself to keep getting hurt by not only that person, but by others as well.  I grew up dealing with a lot of gaslighting, projection, guilt trips, and invalidation.  I see how I kept ending up in emotionally abusive (and almost physically abusive) situations and how I need to break that cycle.

There are many general anxieties, too, some I’ll share and some I won’t.  I find shit triggering me in unexpected ways and it’s beyond frustrating.  Life happens, and we can all be inconsistent to a degree in what we say and not have any ill intent at all.  And sometimes things happen and plans change.  It’s a part of life, and a pretty huge part of my life over the last couple of years.  I’ve planned for a lot of things and had them fall through, so I tried to learn not to plan or look forward to anything (while still kinda trying to if that makes sense).  For someone who plans pretty damn half-assedly (am I being too hard on myself?) I struggle when things don’t work out or plans change, or when I expected a certain stability (in an unstable environment no less) and things inevitably change.  Depending on what the specific situation is it can really mess with me, as I’m realizing lately.  It’s all just a bit much because I’m in a shitty place, and also because it brings back a lot of old shitty feelings.  I have a lot of healing to do because there is no pause button…life keeps happening and both good and bad things happen.  There’s no time to stop.

My roomie/ex came home while I was writing this and I inevitably started falling apart when writing about Claudia.  They asked if I was okay and I got to talking about some of the shit on my mind (a lot of what I wrote about here) and it was good to talk.  I spend a lot of time in my head these days, and today was particularly difficult.  I took the call off at work today and left three hours early.  I didn’t accomplish nearly as much as I wanted, though I did some reading, writing, and cross stitching.  Then I finally weeded the garden.  Not bad since a lot of shit feels pointless right now.

Last night I put together some shit in my bullet journal.  I’d been using a hobby and habit tracker and also my own home made mood chart, but everything kinda came undone after Claudia died.  I’m going to start using it again now and try to get a bit more discipline and focus again.  I desperately need it.

As I was writing and also talking with my ex, I realized that maybe I’m too hard on myself.  Sure, hormones may be fucking with me.  But I also do have a lot of shit on my mind, and it’s all legit.  I’m so used to having my feelings invalidated concerning certain aspects of my life that I stopped validating myself, too.  It’s strange to actually stop and think that maybe my feelings right now are somewhat normal considering everything.  That said, I still feel like something in me is very broken.  I’ve felt this way for years and it’s hard to see an end in sight.  But I’m trying.

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I am enough

I learned early on to question everything about myself

to question if I was enough of one thing or too much of another

and I learned how to read every situation, and to question my own perceptions

to read too much into situations, and to dismiss my very real feelings about other ones

I learned to police everything I said, everything I did, every look that came across my face

for fear that I would be too much

I believed what I was told, and I trusted the one who shaped me

the one who told me that nothing she did for anyone was good enough

I never wanted to make her feel that way

but I learned early on that the standards were always changing, and whether or not I was enough (or too much) depended on her mood

to this day I am not enough for her, especially if I speak my feelings

I’ve spent my life trying to be the best at everything I do, striving for an impossible perfection I’ll never attain

and beating myself up when I don’t achieve it

I’m still berating myself for past mistakes, for everything I don’t know or haven’t figured out, for not being more than I am

I thought I became wiser as I grew older, but I kept finding myself in the same situations

and I even repeated some of what I endured

I’ve made a person I loved feel like they weren’t enough

and so many times I’ve learned I was too much

my feelings, my concerns, my talking

my need for a partner to choose me, to stand beside me, to have my back, to not hurt me

I’ve heard time and again that I do one thing too much or not enough of another

I am too vanilla, too intense, too damaged

and from so many I hear I am too nice, too kind, I am not mean enough, I “need” to be more of this or less of that

and I am growing weary of feeling like I belong to everyone but myself

and I am even more weary of feeling like I criticize myself more than anyone else

I am tired of feeling like I am not enough of one thing or too much of another

I am slowly learning to break old habits, to break the abusive cycle, to belong to myself first and to be my own friend

I am always a work in progress, and I will always have things to improve upon

but what needs to change is based on necessity, on being a better person

not on the comfort level of others

slowly I am learning to accept that I am not too much

I am enough

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letting go and moving forward

I’ve been debating about writing this for a bit but wasn’t sure I should.  I don’t want to be too cocky, or have this come across as a “call out”, etc.  But I read something tonight that made me think about where I’ve been and what I used to find acceptable (or at the very least, I would excuse away) and I thought about where I am now and felt grateful.

I used to put up with some shit in my relationships that was downright emotionally abusive.  When I called them out on it, the person/people involved would routinely project their shit right back at me to keep the focus and discomfort off of them.  I see so many things so clearly now.  I saw some things clearly then, too.  I remember after a series of painful events with one particular person, I told him that he was taking the coward’s way out.  Looking back I see how this applied in so many ways.  Only a coward would raise a fist to someone sitting, crying, and trying to talk to them, and later excuse this behavior because they supposedly saw the person in a completely passive position as a threat (which is either a horrible excuse, or the person was delusional).  Only a coward would consistently try to silence you.  Only a coward would routinely project.  Or give the silent treatment, gaslight you, use your insecurities to hurt you, and on and on.  I look back at so much shit that I put up with in multiple situations and wonder what the hell I was thinking.  I deserved so much better.

It took months for me to really start to let go of my last big heartbreak.  This makes me cringe.  That relationship was a low point for me.  I loved this person so deeply and they were so fickle and hurtful from the start.  What the hell was I thinking?  I betrayed myself because of what I was willing to put up with and how I excused it away.  I can’t believe I gave that person (or the one before) the impression that I thought so little of myself that their games would be acceptable.  Sure, this person had some redeeming qualities, but it wasn’t worth being toyed with.

I’ve built some high walls.  I’ve prided myself on this, especially with new hurts after my last break up in July.  Never really dated anyone after him, though a few came close.  More recently I’ve let my guard down again even though I swore I wouldn’t (and yes, it’s been a challenge in a few different ways…I’m grateful for his patience).  And what I’ve found here is home in so many ways.  This is how things should be.  This person doesn’t just say shit, he tries to prove it.  I feel like he truly respects me.  He sees me.  He listens.  He’s incredibly honest.  I feel safe…not just because of words, but because of actions.  I can be vulnerable and it’s okay.  I’m okay, and we’re okay.  Things are a bit difficult because of distance, but it’s temporary.  There is a maturity here that I’ve always wanted to find but was always lacking elsewhere.  This person is committed to the same extent that I am.  He recognizes that struggles are real, to be expected, but that they can be worked through because we want to and have what it takes.

I’m beside myself with how fortunate I feel.  And I feel sad for the person I was and how I didn’t seem to think I deserved better than I had at the time.  I recently came across a short poem by Rupi Kaur.  I don’t remember the name of it (if it had one) or the exact wording, but I remember her talking about how she thought her last love was basically the be all end all of her life.  After she moved on, she acknowledged how sad it was that she had limited herself so much.  That’s how I feel now.  I’m so, so glad my last relationship ended.  Even though I loved him, I wish it had ended sooner…because I loved myself more.  It was emotional jail, and it took way too much damage for me to decide it was time to walk away.

Life is moving in a better direction now.  I’m optimistic, and I’m so incredibly grateful for this new love.  I can’t wait for the future.

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this hits home

So good. I try to keep this in mind as I pick myself up again, as I pursue someone but also let there be room for him to pursue me and see how it goes. To see what I mean to him, if the feelings go both ways, and if they do…if this could really go somewhere. I’m cautiously hopeful and also like a giddy school girl. I’ve been getting to know this guy for a few months and holy hell am I into him. We will see. Slower is better, especially when you’ve been hurt.

What else do I keep in mind? Where I’ve been. The men who said they loved me. Those that didn’t know what that meant, who didn’t understand love is selfless. Those that treated me like I was expendable. Those who wanted me but not really. I’ve heard it before and I’ll repeat it: a weak man can’t love a strong woman, he won’t know what to do with her.

I think of the one I missed so deeply recently. I love him, but I can love him from over here while he’s over there. It hurts. But I’m glad it didn’t work. I deserve better, and someday I just might find it.

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self-care for an aching heart: anniversaries and Valentine’s Day

It was only a few short days ago I wrote about how incredibly happy I felt.  I know depression will likely be in my future (since I’ve been dealing with it my whole life) but I’m grateful to say it’s not back yet.  What has returned, however, is a pretty intense melancholy.

If you’ve been reading any of my posts from over the past week, then you know I’ve been missing someone very much: my ex boyfriend.  Today marks a year since that amazing night we took a walk in the dark and hiked through the trail across the street from my home.  A year since our first kiss.  A year since we decided to be together, and a year since we shared how long those feelings had been present for both of us.

Assuming you haven’t been reading my blog, my heart was broken pretty bad by my ex husband.  We had been together about thirteen years, and it ended after a lot of continued deception.  It took a lot to love again, and unfortunately, it didn’t end well with my ex boyfriend, either.  We got together a month and a day after my divorce was final, and it only lasted five months.  We’d been friends for a few years and I thought I knew him pretty well, so that made it even harder.  I’ve written about that at length in previous posts so I won’t go there again.

The loss has been hitting me pretty hard lately and I think this is for a couple reasons.  I’ve been doing a lot better emotionally.  Passion about mental health issues was something we shared, and we admittedly both struggled while we were together.  I want so much to share with him how much better I’m doing.  I feel like so many things could be so much different…assuming he’s also doing better.

There’s also the obvious anniversary.  We got together a year ago today, and of course, Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.  Valentine’s Day rubs all that shit in.  I realize it’s just another hallmark holiday, and my ex husband and I always saw it as that.  We still used it as another excuse to do something romantic together.  I thought I’d spend last Valentine’s Day as the first that I was single since the age of 16…but no, this year is the year I’ll be doing that.  Valentine’s two years ago was somewhat painful, our marriage was on the edge but I still had a tiny bit of hope.  We split in March.  So it’s a painful time of year for a couple reasons.

Tomorrow is my last day of PTO, back to work on Thursday.  I’ve been trying to figure out how to spend the day.  It’s still a little up in the air, but I can at least speak to today.

I was really, really feeling the pain all day.  I felt like I could burst into tears at any moment but I just wasn’t quite there yet.  I finally cried a little on my way home from the store.

Speaking of the store, I bought myself a few small things as a gesture of self-care.  All the Valentine’s stuff was out, so I figured what the hell.  I got myself a tiny purple rose plant.  The flowers it has are dying and I figured it was the least likely to be bought for that reason, but it has plenty of buds and I like purple.  I also got myself a candle, sushi, and a beer.  Small, small gestures to self-soothe I suppose.

I also decided to finish up an oil pastel I’ve been working on for a bit.  It’s the first time I’ve actually used a step-by-step guide (from Pinterest) for my art.  Usually I just make shit up.  I’ve been putting off finishing this one because I wasn’t sure if it would look nearly as cool as the guide.  It doesn’t, but it’s still decent.  I got really excited while finishing it, and that was really what I needed to help my mood.  Art is incredibly therapeutic, and this was more evidence of how much it helps me.

If you’re curious, here’s what I did: https://instagram.com/p/BfKNaHaABHJ/

I want to make a point to you all by sharing this (and my other art if you browse through my instagram).  A lot of people look at what I do and pretty consistently respond by saying (about themselves), “I’m not that artistic” or “I’ve never been good at art.”

You know what?  I HATED art class in middle school.  Absolutely fucking hated it.  Looking back I think I understand why.  I didn’t have the patience for it.  I didn’t understand what I was doing.  And maybe most importantly, I was too busy comparing my work to everyone else’s work.  Every single one of us that makes art is very quick to criticize ourselves, but if we saw someone else do the same thing we might think it’s great.  Comparison is awful for our creativity.  The only way it’s good (as said by a friend and coworker who also paints) is that we can learn from what someone else is doing.  He’s got a good point.  That’s really the one good purpose comparison serves.

I say that for all of you out there who say the thing I once said: “I’m not artistic”.  You’ve got an inner artist, believe me.  Stop hiding them and try something new.  Write, dance, paint, draw, sing, play an instrument, burn images into wood, cook, do interior decorating, cross stitch, knit, crochet, etc etc.  You’re artistic.  It took me until now at the age of 31 to realize I can paint and use oil pastels.  It’s random, but here I am.  And it’s incredibly therapeutic.  If you pick an art but don’t know how to get started, watch some videos on YouTube or hop on Pinterest.  You’ll have a basic idea of techniques and some ideas for what to create in no time.

My art and all the little self-care gestures I mentioned in this post might not heal my aching heart.  But it sure will help soothe the pain a little, and maybe even bring a smile to my face.  I know it can do the same for you.  Shout out to the people hurting this time of year, we’re not alone…even if we feel that way.  Much love to you all, and thanks as always for stopping by.

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reflecting on a year ago today, and the incredibly important lessons I’ve since learned

A year ago today, January 12, I got divorced from my partner of 13 years.  I never wanted the divorce (does anyone, really?) but we were going in different directions, and most importantly the trust was completely gone.  I was in denial of everything but that.  It ended up being a default judgment so my ex didn’t have to be present and hadn’t originally planned on it.  I was admittedly kinda pissed and felt my ex had already washed their hands of the relationship in so many ways and now I was not only handling all the logistics of the divorce by myself, but I’d actually be going to court by myself, too.  My ex ultimately decided to go with.  I don’t know why, but I just want to reflect on that morning.

We began the long drive to the courthouse early that Thursday morning.  We were amicable, and we listened to Free Beer and Hot Wings on the way.  The weather was my least favorite to drive in: freezing rain.  Thankfully it wasn’t too bad.  A commercial came on for Van Andel Flikkema, which I was pretty excited about because I’d been ranting to my ex for quite a while about how terrible these commercials were and how they needed to hear them.  The commercials are full of horrible puns (much like my ex).  After it was over my ex made a comment about how the commercial had brought them “so much joy”.  It was hilarious.

Neither of us had a lawyer since we agreed on everything.  There were two (maybe three?) other women also there for a divorce.  I was the only one whose ex bothered to show up.  I was also the only one who didn’t have any complications (such as not completing the final judgment – which another lady hadn’t done – and I was also in the right place unlike the lady who had a lawyer who somehow messed something up).

I struggled reading through the Testimony.  My ex is a good person.  Good people can fuck up really bad sometimes but still ultimately be good.  My ex was an amazing husband, some shit just went horribly wrong and it was clear it wasn’t going to change.  They’re now one of my best friends and always will be…we just aren’t compatible as life partners anymore.  They’ve grown a lot.  I know they regretted how they handled things so it felt kinda odd having to briefly summarize why this happened, especially when my ex was the only one that bothered to show up.  I was shaking and tearful afterwards.  We drove to a local coffee shop after leaving the courthouse, we went home, and then my ex went to work.  I cried a while and posted in some online support groups.  Then I pulled myself together to work on the other legalities (getting a new SS card, a new drivers license, etc.)

I also went to the store and bought myself one of my favorite beers in bottle form.  I’ve only ever had it on tap because I couldn’t justify the price.  It’s New Holland’s “Dragon’s Milk”, one of their high gravity beers.  That was the first time I bought a bottle and I haven’t since…not that I haven’t wanted to.  I basically got drunk on it that night, partially because I’m a light weight and partially because it’s really damn strong.

A lot has happened in terms of my “romantic” life since my divorce.  Hell, before the divorce (but after splitting) I very briefly got involved with the wrong guy on so many levels.  I hate myself for that one.  He wasn’t good at all.  After my divorce I fell pretty hard for a guy who’d been a friend for a few years.  It was intense.  Unfortunately it was also incredibly unhealthy.  I won’t say I was in the best of places at the time, but he had so much baggage he tried to make my problem and he was just so lost and didn’t know how to manage himself.  I believe he truly loved me, he was just not okay.  Things got emotionally abusive and the threat of physical abuse was there on one occasion.  For some reason I didn’t end it then and there.  I had so much hope for him, just like for my ex.  It ultimately didn’t work though and it took me quite a while to really be okay with it.  There was an intensity between us I’ve never experienced and it felt very wrong to let go of the connection we shared.

In the more recent past I very briefly got involved with a dude I’d been crushing on for quite some time.  That didn’t work either.  He also wasn’t ready (kinda reminded me of the ex boyfriend in certain respects) and ultimately rejected me over something I can’t help.  It felt incredibly shallow and short-sighted on his part.  That was admittedly kind of a huge hit to my confidence, among other things.  That one stings.  But what stings even more has been my “dream guy” losing interest and ending up with someone else.  I was pretty sure something would happen between us, at some point it seemed like it had already started to.  But here I am.  It’s okay.

Actually, shit’s not okay but as I’ve learned, I’ll make it through.  It’s life.  What happened with my ex changed my perspective on a lot of things, not necessarily for the best.  And every let down since has made me feel more and more guarded.  Damn near every person I’ve come across has been flaky as hell and I can’t deal with it right now.  It’s all a bit too much heartache in too short a time, so I’ve decided I really need to try to shut myself off to the idea of being in a relationship right now.  I have enough going on without worrying about being hurt.  And if I don’t get my mind in a better spot I feel like I’m just going to keep attracting more of the same.  It’s okay to focus on myself.  I don’t have to fear being alone for the rest of my life right now, and I don’t have to fear that I’m missing all these great potential relationships because I’m just extra guarded.  If the right person is anywhere near me, they’ll respect where I’m at and be willing to wait a little.  What I do have to lose by jumping too soon is quality time figuring myself out even more, not to mention just quality time, period.  I work a lot and my old dog will be gone soon.  Everything I *do* have is what matters.

So, that’s an important lesson.  And I’ve learned so many others.  I think one of the most important things that’s come from my loss(es) is that I’m finding myself.  I used to be so down on myself for not knowing where my life was going.  This admittedly still bugs me sometimes, but I also have a confidence now that I never used to have.  I feel like I’m figuring it out, I’m “on my way”.  I just need to stay focused.

I’ve gone through the worst depressions I’ve ever experienced.  And I came out stronger.  Even recently I started slipping again.  But I’m still here.  I’ve found an antidepressant that helps.  It just got increased a couple days ago.  After repeatedly burning myself out by working a lot and just dealing with a lot of life shit, I’m beginning to truly learn the importance of structure and self-care.  I now use a bullet journal to help me stay focused on what I need to do and what I want to do.  It’s obviously not completely fool-proof, but I’m focused enough that I know it’s at least helping guide me (even if not perfectly).

One of the most exciting things I’m learning is that I’m more artistic than I ever realized.  I always envied the “artsy” types and now I’m realizing I’m one of those people.  And having an outlet for this creativity has really worked wonders for my mental health.  It’s truly part of my self-care.  Sure, I’m working 50 hours this week and I’m tired and ready for a day off, but art is really helping me feel better than I otherwise would have.

So there you go.  A lot changes in so short a time.  I have a lot of feelings over this one year anniversary of my divorce.  I mourn what was.  I miss my husband so much.  There’s a lot I still don’t understand about what happened and why.  It was all so out of character.  But I’ve done out of character things in my lifetime as well.  We’re human.  It just hurts.  I miss what was.  I miss so much and I long for all that was good.  There was a lot.  And I may feel intensely lonely and afraid now.  I may wish to have someone love me once again the way my ex husband did (because nobody has loved me like that since), except without all the shit that happened.  I wish I knew what it was like to have someone be as dedicated and committed as me.

But reality is what it is.  I’m figuring myself out.  I’m feeling more and more like I’m becoming who I always should have been, even if it’s a slow and sometimes incredibly painful process.  I still don’t know exactly where I’m going, but I have no doubt I’m on my way.  Why?  Because I’m finally learning to trust myself.  I’m finally taking (healthy) risks.  I’ve survived a pain I previously would have expected to literally kill me because I couldn’t handle it.  And I came close to attempting to end it, but here I am.  I’m a survivor, and I’m learning what it means to not only survive but also thrive.  I’ve learned I can make it alone.

“In the depths of winter I finally  learned there was within me an invincible summer.” -Albert Camus

For the hell of it, here’s my second piece made with oil pastels.  Haven’t touched them since last night, and before that, 20 or so years ago.  So, be forgiving 😛

Also, feel free to follow me on Instagram if you like outdoor paintings, nature photography, dogs, and the occasional inspirational post: https://www.instagram.com/nicki_lynne8586/

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A post shared by Nicki Berens (@nicki_lynne_art)

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Lessons

I’m not a religious person, but I’m definitely spiritual and I think certain things really mean something. Lately I keep seeing the message, “focus on what you want instead of what you don’t want”. I’ve been trying to take this to heart.

There is a particular area of my life in which I feel like I’m cursed right now (not literally, but damn is my luck bad). One wall after another, even when I focus on what I want instead of what I don’t want. I feel defeated and I feel like giving up. I’m tired of hurting. 

But if I’m to take a growth perspective, maybe it’s not just about focusing on what I want. Life is complicated and everything is multifaceted. Maybe a big part of it isn’t just facing some of my biggest fears (which I’ve done a lot over the last couple of years) but truly embracing them so I’m really not afraid anymore. Maybe it’s about staying focused. Maybe it’s learning to grieve and get right back up and carry my head high. Maybe it’s about being grateful for what I have instead of mourning what I don’t. Maybe it’s just this…trying to stay positive when I feel like life is trying to bring me down. 

The universe is a good teacher. I appreciate the lessons. I’m just tired.

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