Finding Strength

Slowly, but steadily now, my strength is returning. My confidence is returning also. It's been a very long journey through this darkness, but I am beginning to see the sun rise. This coming week I face the ex-in-laws and my sister at my son's graduation. I've been thinking about this a lot, preparing for the pain ahead. Yesterday as I sat and wrote, for the first time in forever, I felt strong to face them all. I know that I have done the right things for my family no matter what they think. I'm learning to recognize my feelings and not react to their opinions and attitudes. I'm not afraid of my ex's response to the divorce, either. I knew he'd be angry. He is. He'll get over it eventually, and we can work out our child arrangements then.

Believe it or not, going back to work has helped. The people who have told me that they're glad I'm back, have strengthened me. I wish I didn't care so much about what others think, but I do. It's been a real boost to realize how much I care about my church friends and how much they care about me. I've learned the value of friends over and over again along this process. I'm learning to be a better friend to others. Still have a way to go on that, but I'm learning. I think most people think of friends as extra, that family comes first. They think, and I have thought, that family is always there and friends come and go. A few people who have little or no family realize how important friends are. I am learning more about that every day, and I'm amazed at how powerful and wonderful the bonds of friendship are.

Along the way this week, I am being reminded that I'm a pretty decent person with a lot of skills. So maybe all those "affirmations," I wrote for The Artist's Way really are true. Go figure! It's great to realize that after feeling like an idiot for a year.

I'm still a work in process. I'm still sifting through the ashes of my previous life, but at least my strength is being renewed. Life does not seem overwhelming. When I can get my jaw from clamping down all the time, I'll know that I am almost out of the fire.

Meetings

"It's been lovely, but now I have to scream!"
Bad Girl Art

Meetings must be the reason I'm paid so much!

Returning to Work

Today was my first day back in the office after my sabbatical. It felt familiar and yet odd to pull in the driveway, park my car and head for the door. I fumbled to find the correct key and of course chose the wrong one on my first attempt.

The women came today for Women's Circle. I greeted several of them as they entered the building. It was good to see them... at least most of them. (One, I could live without seeing for the rest of my life.) For the most part, I enjoyed seeing old friends. They invited me to join them for lunch. We chatted as we shared our meal. It felt right to be back with them.

They shared the saga of the raccoons in the church attic. We still have damage from that family of critters. I guess there was a momma and 5 babies living above our heads. Every spring and summer, we have a raccoon problem. The Coons usually outsmart us humans.

After lunch I returned to my office and my desk. I felt a bit odd. "What do I do with myself today? What do I usually do during the week? Can't plan worship yet, we have a meeting about that tonight." I wonder what in the world has been happening in my absence. Perhaps I need to read some emails and minutes of meetings.

My new administrative assistant comes in. We talk for an hour as she informs me of the happenings while I was away. Several people are angry about things that happened. That's not surprising. Other than that, business has rolled along. Worship has happened. Programs have run. Everyone is getting ready to head south to the beach in a couple of weeks.

I find it hard to focus.

And then I have the call from my ex-husband. He explodes over the phone and what little concentration I had, disappears. I decide that I need to head for my favorite hangout and write, after I pick up the kids. Oh well. Tomorrow will be another day.

Tomorrow I need to explain what I did on my sabbatical. I don't dare tell them that I basically spent the weeks recovering from depression, divorce and grief. I can't really explain that although I was trying to be "spiritually" fed, I still don't know what I believe. I'm still what they would call an agnostic. The sabbatical strengthened me. I don't think it is what they would have in mind, though. Yes, I have considered my faith continually. The best I can do right now is accept the fact that I don't know... that I will not know anything definite for awhile, and somehow, that's enough for now. Somehow that's okay. Tomorrow I'll write a summary that will hopefully clarify my weeks to both them and me. Maybe I'll find words to describe the journey which will not end.

I Remember Why I am Afraid

I remember why I am afraid of him. There are always consequences to pay. There is always anger that verges on physical abuse. There's intimidation by a bigger body yelling in my face with the force of a punch. I remember why I am afraid. There's the rage that comes with no warning. It explodes over big or small things. It comes after nice conversations and no conversations. I have never known when to expect it. This is why they call it "abuse."

I convince myself that it is stupid to be so intimidated. I convince myself that I'm making a big deal out of nothing, and then the rage hits. The rage is hitting now. It's coming in phone calls that I won't answer. It came in threats over the phone when he found out about the divorce. It came with a phone call from his attorney to my attorney. He is appealing the decree. He actually wants me to put money in his hands to spend as he wishes........ for the sake of the children! Right! He'll use it for them alright. And I just bought a bridge in Brooklyn!

My hope is that this is his momentary rage and we won't have to go to court to discuss my family's drug use in public. Life is just grand! I'm glad I grow stronger every day. I need it.

Fear

Why is it that I panic when the ex is angry? Why can't I do as they tell me to do, and take three deep breaths, and be calm. Why can't I be brave and just not respond. He's not married to me any more. He can't legally do anything to me. I used to hold my own through horrific tantrums. Now, he starts to yell and I go phobic! The adrenalin pumps. The heart races. I panic. I hang up the phone or leave his presence, but still I let him scare the hell out of me!

I don't want to respond like this. I want to remain calm. I hope I master that ability soon.

He just found out we are divorced. He's very angry. Why am I afraid of that? Why am I afraid of him?

"It's better to have loved and lost than to live with that psycho for the rest of your life." "It's better to have loved and lost than to live with that psycho for the rest of your life." "It's better to have loved and lost than to live with that psycho for the rest of your life..........."

I will breathe....

Bad Girl Art

It is better to have loved and lost than to live with that psycho for the rest of your life.

From: Bad Girl Art

Christians Tick Me Off!

For the past 5 weeks I've become very aware of the snobbery of Christians. Christians think they have "the" one and only answer." If you don't believe the way they do, you are just plain wrong. I've known that that is part of Christian belief. Most religions promote the idea that theirs is the ultimate truth and others are wrong. I think, but I could be wrong, that Buddhism is the only religion which doesn't believe that. My experience lately has put me on the receiving end of this attitude of Christians. They assume that everyone around them is Christian. (That part comes from the "Bible belt" mentality.) They impose their terminology and their agenda on the world around them. I've experienced this in line at the coffee counter; As I drive down the road and read bumper stickers; As I talk with my friends; As I talk with strangers in stores. What I have heard through these experiences is that if I don't believe like they do, it's really a matter of my ignorance, and if I just knew what they know, I would believe the same. Of course these people don't know with whom they speak. They don't know that I can talk circles around their Christian jargon and tell them what those words actually mean, and still not believe. They don't know that they are the ignorant ones in the conversation. (Sorry, as I've said, I'm a bit ticked off!)

I've also had the uncomfortable experience of having my Christian friends try to coerce me to believe. I know they mean well. They like me and they want me to regain the faith I've lost. I can't blame them for that. At the same time, I've noticed that when I explain one of my experiences, they will "translate" my words into "Christian," words. They get a twinkle in the eye and lean forward like they have just solved this mystery of my lack of faith and they want to share those magic words which will give it back to me. When I talk about this experience of going down into the fire and rising as the phoenix from the ashes, I get, "Oh! It's your resurrection! You're going to be great in ministry once you figure this out, because you'll be able to talk to people about their real struggles." If I wanted to use Jesus imagery, I'd use Jesus imagery. I don't need it translated for me. It makes me feel like a child whose just been patted on the head. "You'll be okay once you grow up and get the real perspective." I've always told people that if their faith doesn't match their experience in life, then it doesn't mean anything. It is worthless. Here I am, finding my faith doesn't match life and so...... Don't sugar coat it. "Once life is less painful, then you'll believe again." If it doesn't mean anything "in the trenches," then it doesn't mean anything.

I don't know what I will believe eventually. Just don't assume or patronize. And please don't do that to other people around you! It insults and hurts them.

Children: Always a Surprise

I've been sweating all afternoon about telling my children that their father and I are divorced. I went to my favorite hangout to write. Couldn't write. Wandered around. Called some people I hadn't told. Paced and waited for the big moments with my kids. My hands shook as I drove to the first school pick up. The kids are after all, the most important people in my life, even when they don't claim me. I planned how to stay safe with my most violent son. I thought I would take my oldest out for coffee to tell him. I would treat my youngest with an ice cream outing. It didn't turn out anything like I expected. My middle one just walked away from the car with an, "I don't know why you thought I'd care!" (Of course I'm not including the swear words that were interspersed with his, "meaningful" words.) I tried all afternoon to get my oldest to answer his phone. He wouldn't answer. He finally called me back, and he was at the mall with no transportation to meet me. He obviously had no desire to go out of his way to meet me, so I told him on the phone. He was very "matter of fact." "Okay." he said, or something like that. It was so inconsequential that I didn't even notice his words. I was in shock! So then when my youngest came home from school, I decided not to make such a big deal about it. I just told him. He said, "I thought that happened a long time ago. Can I go ride my bike now?"

So there you have it. Some things that carry great significance to us adults don't mean a thing to our children. Maybe we shouldn't worry about being honest with them, even when we think they will be upset by our words.

Tomorrow Morning... May 21... Divorced

Tomorrow morning my attorney and I go stand before a judge and present my final divorce decree, petition, whatever it's called. Tomorrow morning I meet with my attorney and then we wait our turn to stand before a perfect stranger and in a few simple minutes, I will be declared divorced. You may be still sleeping. You may be working at your desk. You might be getting your kids off to school. I will be declared, "Divorced." All the world proceeds as normal. My life will never be the same again. Of course none of our lives will ever be the same as they are each moment of each day. We think they will, but they won't.



Never thought I'd feel relieved and excited to be divorced! A year ago I was hysterical with the thought. I was frightened to death! A lot has happened in this year. I keep hoping that indeed with all this process I am a better person than I was before. I thought I'd be sad when the divorce date came, and I suppose I will be a bit sad. Right now, I am eager "to get it over with." I'm eager to be detached from the man I no longer love or hate. I just don't care about him. It's hard to believe that after 23 years. A week from tomorrow would have been our 21st anniversary. Interesting timing.



Just think... a total stranger talks with me and my attorney for a few minutes and makes a decision about me and my family's lives. There is no lengthy investigation. I'm sure that our story is the same as thousands who go through the "system." To the judge and to my attorney, it's just another divorce. And yet to me and my family it is "DIVORCE." We will offically no longer be a family as it has been known to us. It's odd how perspectives can be so different about the same events. It's odd how legal actions can mean so much.



Tomorrow I publish this. I dare not, tonight.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

It's hard to sit still tonight. I'll explain more tomorrow. For now, I'm full of energy and exhausted at the same time. Can't focus to accomplish anything. Feel like I just want to go to sleep and know that as soon as I lie down, my mind will keep going. Sure wish I could control my brain a bit more! My son is asleep early, so he hasn't kept me distracted at all. Need to clean my house and yet I just want to lie down! Oh,... the responses that anticipation causes in our bodies are strange. Why am I sleepy and hyper at the same time? Why can't my mind focus on what I'm doing? I know. I'm not living in the present. My mind is in tomorrow, yesterday and today. It's wearing me out. Obviously I haven't been practicing my yoga very well. Hmmm. Always more to learn. Always more to improve on.

Trying not to take that train

I'm working hard this morning. Trying not to take the guilt train. It's been my mode of operation for so many years, it's hard to say, "No." I make a decision, and feel good about it. Then my ex or my kids throw criticism my way and I start to cave. It's a major challenge to respond differently from my past. It's a good thing I have friends who remind me to stay off that southbound train toward guilt. Everyone should have friends who help them stay healthy. Wish I could do it for my self. Some day I will. Right now, it just feels oh so wrong. It's especially hard with my kids. But then, I think that's why they have turned out like they have. I've always jumped on that train and given in to their desires. This time I am staying strong and it feels like it'll kill them and me in the process. Some day I might be able to trust my gut feeling, but not right now. If I give in, it just might kill them and me.

I know, "Breathe, damnit! Breathe!"

Swimming Upstream

Does it ever get better? Does it ever get easier? I keep asking that question, hoping to get a "Yes," for the answer. So far, the answer is always, "No." I don't understand why I'm always swimming upstream. I might have a good few days, but it always comes to "one step forward and two steps back." I'm soooo tired. I'm soooo sad. Is there no relief for my soul?

Done with Happy for the Day

Went to the grocery store, figuring that I'd be one of the few there. I thought those of us who have nothing to celebrate today would be there on our own. We could share a bit of camaraderie. I was terribly wrong! Families were all over the place, buying dinner items for their mothers, Mother's Day balloons, flowers. It was disgusting! I spent another shopping trip hiding behind sunglasses, trying to decide if I wanted to throw up or throw something at someone. People who have lousy Mother's Days should just bar their doors and not see anyone. I have learned my lesson! It's too depressing. When the clerk at the checkout asked me if I wanted a Mother's Day balloon, I almost answered, "If I had someone to buy one for, or someone to buy one for me, I'd already have it in my grubby little hand. Since I do not, then obviously I don't want one! Ask me again and I'll tell you what to do with those balloons." Instead I said, "No, thank you."

Aaahhhh! I've tried to convince myself that today would be okay...that I just returned from a wonderful vacation, and there's really nothing to be sad about. Can't fool me! Denial just doesn't seem to work for me as well as it used to. May no one else wish me a "Happy Mother's Day!"

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day To Me! Mother's Day is a day full of emotions for many people. Those of us who have older children recall the wonder of their births and the special times together through the years. I remember:

my sons playing songs on their armpits after dinner on the back porch.

S. being sick for his first 2 years.

when E. learned to walk.

sledding at the cemetery and wishing it were closer to home.

A. looking like a little old man when he was a toddler.

E's green birthday cakes every year.

S. being sick as an infant and toddler.

giving them each their first haircut when they turned one.

S. not having enough hair to cut.

playing charades after dinner on the back porch and every animal slithered on the ground.

S. seeing the mysterious lady who "wasn't there" when we walked through the church.

E. drawing all over the pulpit and carpet with a permanent purple marker.

A. drawing on the newel post and signing his name because, "All real artists sign their names."

the wonderful smell of baby heads.

cuddling for hours with each of them as newborns.

sleepless nights through numerous ear infections.

A. and E. sliding down the stairs in hampers.

walking the creek beds, looking for "treasures."

Somewhere inside each of them

is the boy who played, laughed, and cried

whose problems were mostly solved by band aids and hugs.

A Rainy Day at the Beach is Better Than....

Loving the beach! There is something totally mesmerizing about the waves rolling in. I try to think while I walk. Soon, my mind is numb and I'm looking at shells. There's just something about the repeated pattern of the water that hypnotizes me. It's wonderful to be forced to live in the present moment... To only think about how far the next wave will come in...to only think about the pretty shell calling my name! Having so much on my mind and so much grieving to do, I love how the waves wash my thoughts away. We walk at least 2 times a day, sometimes alone and sometimes with company. Even with company we are alone in our minds. Rolling, rolling. the waves pound the shore. The sound is almost as regular as static on a bad radio station. I would say that the symbolism of the waves is to wash us clean, but this is not clean water. Brown foam collects along the shore. We've had storms all week, so the waves are high and turbulent. The water is brown.

Awash in a Sea of Tears

Last night I broke. My heart "broke open." The tears flowed for hours. It felt good to bathe in grief... to release more pain of loss... My heart is heavy about my child.

I regret that I wasn't a better parent.
that I didn't do enough to help him figure himself out when he was younger.
that I didn't leave his father when he was younger.
that I didn't realize his father's anger was abuse.
that I didn't see his depression and treat it when he was younger.
I regret.

I'm angry that after all I've done to help him, he has turned from me.
that the child whom I love has now turned against me.
that the smile that lights a room is never seen because he is determined to self-destruct.
that the opportunity we had for getting him help was sabotaged by his father.
that after giving my life to him, he is treating me so horribly.
I'm angry.

I worry that he will harm himself while he seeks to find his way.
that he will harm someone else while he seeks his path.
that he will lose his way and forget who he truly is.
that he will never come out of his sea of depression and that he will drown in it.
that he will die as a result of his own behavior.
I worry.

The tears of anger, worry, and regret flow. These are not the end of the tears with his name on them, but they are awash in the many years of tears for him. I am grateful for their healing. I am grateful that they are releasing my pain.

The Beach

Been walking the beach at least 2 times a day since we arrived on the coast. It's amazingly beautiful. Of course I've been collecting sea shells. Can't resist them. I'm addicted to looking down as I walk, seeking the perfect shells. I keep trying to keep my eyes on the horizon, but I think it's almost too much to take in for very long. It's like looking into eternity. After awhile you have to look at something more concrete, something that you can touch, something that makes sense on a smaller scale.

As I collected shells today, I thought about these great patches of beach with thousands of shells. They are like elephant grave yards. They are the sea creature grave yards. Once the animals die, their shells wash up on the shore where we find them and take them to put on a shelf somewhere. They're also like abandoned houses that have been washed up from the sea to our realm. I keep playing with the metaphors, hoping to find some wisdom in the process. I keep thinking that it must be obvious, these gifts of shells and wisdom. The shells are obvious. The wisdom lies hidden beneath the waves and the sand. I wonder what we are to learn from it all.

Children Can Drive Me to Drink

Yesterday, I spent the day trying to figure out what to do about my two older boys. Have I done enough? Do I need to do more to intervene in their lives? How do I not feel guilty if I don't try something else? On and on it went, but I was determined to make a decision. Finally I wrote in my journal and realized that I don't just want them to go into drug treatment. I want them to gain self confidence, and feel loved and lovable. I thought long and hard on this and decided that helping them feel loved is something I can do. I can stay connected with them by sending text messages, cards, notes of encouragement. I can give them little gifts like candy bars, etc. I felt really pretty good about this decision, even though I expected to get no response from them. So I texted each of them with a different message. Two minutes later, I received this text: "Fuck you bitch! Don't ever text me again" Did I blog that I'm planning to spend some time grieving the loss of my children this week? That text sent me right to the heart of my sadness. It's a "damned if you do and damned if you don't situation." He's a child that only a mother would be crazy enough to love.

Breathing

At birth we take our first breath. At birth we automatically start a process that lasts a lifetime. Inhale... exhale...inhale....exhale. We don't even have to think about it: inhale... exhale...inhale...exhale. The only time we think about our breath usually, is when we are sick...When inhaling becomes a burden. How many nights does it take sleeping in a chair to be able to lie down and still breathe? My youngest panics when his nose clogs up. He yells, "I can't breathe!" I say, "Yes you can. Open your mouth." " But then my mouth dries out." "Yes, but you can breathe!" Not being able to breathe is scary... for all of us. I'm even a bit claustrophobic about swimming. I've been swimming allll my life! Thrown in the pool as a toddler and haven't stayed out since. But I'm smart enough to have figured out that humans can't breathe under water. A few dunking battles with bigger cousins taught me that! Been intimidated ever since. Let's face it. Breathing is important!

I've been with several people as they died. It's the breath that counts, the breath that tells us life or death. It's the breath that loved ones gather and watch. Inhale.....exhale...............inhale.........exhale...................................inhale............exhale. Each long pause before an inhale causes everyone in the room to halt their own breath. Is this it? Is this the moment when she dies? It's almost torture to watch and wait. Sometimes we pray that there won't be another inhale, that death will finally come. We do this not because we want the person to die, but because we can't stand the suspense any longer. We want our own suffering to be over. It's like a 6 hour suspense movie. At some point you can't take it any more. You just want it to resolve! You want it to be over! And some people continue for days with long pauses between breaths. By the time death comes, everyone is relieved that breathing has stopped.

Since a year ago, when I first jumped into the fire of change, I've been struggling to breathe. Honestly, I forget to breathe. Suddenly I realize that I've been holding my breath... taking short, quick ones only when necessary. And then come the long sighs. My ex used to ask me what was wrong when he heard me sighing. He knew I was stressed when I sighed. There is also the sighing that comes from reliving good memories and holding my breath. I haven't done that with him since we broke our bed the first year of marriage. There are times when I sit and relive a really great moment. That's when the good sighs come... when a smile creeps across my face and I realize that I've been a "million miles away," reliving something extraordinary. Those are my favorite sighs. Who doesn't like those? Of course I haven't had those in many months. Even the good memories come with the pain of loss.

Breathing, in and out, in and out. The doctor tells you to breathe normally or take a deep breath. Breathe. For the past year, people have reminded me, "Breathe, S, breathe!" "Take a breath!" "Breathe. You'll be okay." I guess it doesn't take long to be around me before seeing that I've forgotten this necessity of life. It comes in fits and starts. I pause. I hold my breath. I give myself headaches from clenching my teeth and holding my breath. In and out, in and out, it's supposed to go. Mine's more like in.............out, in, out,....iiiinnnnn...........oooooouuuutttt.

I'm taking breathing lessons now. Yes, I've had to start taking breathing lessons. It's called yoga. I think I'm the worst in the class. Two times a week I practice....in......... out.........in..........out. Deep, even breaths, using my diaphragm. It seems like I'm always exhaling when I'm supposed to be inhaling. I double time it, and then have to slow down. I don't breathe. I just hold my breath. It's embarrassing. The hardest thing about yoga for me, is not the odd positions and stretches. I'm a former gymnast and even though I'm not as limber as I used to be, I can do almost everything they've taught, except the breathing! I'm flunking breathing! Breathing is the thing that we do automatically, right? so why can't I do it?

A friend and I have an ongoing message to each other, "Breathe damnit! Breathe!" Yes, it's good to have a companion with the same issue. I don't feel quite so stupid. Perhaps by the time I return from my trip to the ocean, I'll remember to breathe and I can focus on helping him. Most likely I'll relearn to breathe, and forget when I walk in the door of my home. For all of us who are stressed, "Breathe damnit! Breathe!"

Back into the Fire

I realize I've been staying way too busy, trying to avoid the internal/emotional/spiritual work I need to be doing. Started reading a wonderful book, recommended by a wonderful friend, called, "Broken Open," by Elizabeth Lesser. If you have a crisis, big or small, read this book! It's amazing! It's about using our difficult times to learn and grow. Her understanding, which fits my life experience totally, is that sometimes we can't stand the pain and so we jump into the flames on our own. Sometimes we're forced into the fire by life circumstances. In any case, we need to learn to let some things, maybe even all things in our lives/our selves die. We need to let the fire burn away the things that are unhealthy or hindering our lives, that keep us from fully living. And like the phoenix, we will rise from the ashes. We will be more loving, softer, less judgemental, healthier people, with better lives. I'm loving the imagery of the jumping off into the fire. I have chosen that path after resisting it for too many years. And frankly, today I'm tired of the fire. I want that rising from the ashes to happen NOW! It's not going to happen though. I've realized while reading this week that I still have a lot to let go of and a lot to learn. It seems like I've been in the fire forever, and yet there is more that needs burned away... more that I need to release... more that I need to consider as to whether it needs released or not. I guess I don't let go easily, and don't realize how much I need to release. Tomorrow I leave on "vacation." I'm realizing that I am going to jump right back into the hottest flames with this trip. It's going to be a tissue box trip! I don't want to, but I've come to the end of my busy-ness at home. There will be nothing but sand, waves, and hopefully sun to entertain me for a week. There will be no TV. I am taking books, my journals, my yoga and myself into a week of meditation, pondering, wrestling, and hopefully releasing. I have a joy/dread attitude. What will I discover about life this week? What will I love and what will I hate? Will I have faith and what will it look like? Will I be able to let go of my boys who will not be controlled? Who will I love and who will I let go of. Even this week, I've realized that I don't say, "No," to people when that is what I need to do. I don't take care of myself and I commit to people who "poison my pond." At least I'm becoming more aware of doing it. Now it would be nice to realize that before I make commitments! Since keeping commitments is one of my pet peeves, it will work a lot better if I just don't make ones that I don't want to keep. I made two such bad commitments, just today! Aaaaahhh! Practice. Practice. Practice.