Goals are good, right?

I’m cleaning out my random thought emails and found this list:

Things I want to do: 

1. Go someplace with no light pollution and where you can see a million stars.  Just lay on a blanket and look at them.
2. Ride horseback again. 
3. See mountains.
4. Put my feet in both oceans. 
5. Climb an ancient ruin in Mexico
6. See the places in Europe from which my ancestors came to America.
7. Write a song
8. Get my voice back & sing karaoke
9. Run at least a mile, yes, all at once. 
10. Get in shape.
11. Be happy significantly more than I’m not happy.
12. Resolve my daddy issues.
13. Conquer my PTSD.
14. Learn to leave my mask and armor off.
15. To learn to LIKE myself
16. To figure out faith
17. To finally HATE cigarettes.
18. To let go of my physical and sexual hang-ups.
19. To raise my children to be safe, happy, well-adjusted people so they can go out in the world and be happy, adjusted adults (break the cycle).
20. To get past the damage and move into myself.
21. To be the most beautiful, wonderful, valuable woman in the world to someone – without changing what I don’t want to change.

 

Change of thinking.

I learned this weekend that I have become a very negative person. This disturbs me because it’s a trait about people that I dislike very much. I find myself distancing myself from people that are consistantly bitching about something and can’t find the positive in anything.  It was one of the things that used to drive me crazy about the ex, since it seemed that everything he said was a complaint and I hated it and used to tell him the same thing as I was told.  I used to tell him that maybe he should try to find a few things that were good each day and write them down.  I suppose now I should take my own advice.  I am making attempts to try to think more positively, even with everything that is going on in my life, with hopes that maybe it can help alleviate the stress that I’m under.  I think that way of thinking has pulled me out of despair with my last relationship and hopefully it can do the same now.  The easiest way to do this for me would probably be from my phone, so expect to see that in the future.

 

Letter to myself

Repeat after me: I am strong, I am capable, I am intelligent. I am a warrior, I did not die when one tried to kill me. I did not break when they beat me. I did not back down when life has kicked me. I have always gotten back up. I have always made it through somehow and each time with more fight. My scars are beautiful and so am I.  One self-righteous, parasitic asshole is not going to beat me now. He’s got nothing but propoganda and lies holding him up. I am a good person, I have an awesome heart, I care about people and I do what’s right. I love like there’s no tomorrow. I am deserving of every ounce of love I receive.  I am not going to curl up and quit. I am not going to let life’s newest hurdle ruin me and turn me into a person who’s negativity and refusal to act makes me abhor them. I am better than that and him. I am a fantastic mother, a good friend. I deserve more credit than I give myself. I am a good catch. The people in my life are just as lucky to have me as I am them. He never deserved me. He doesn’t deserve her and I will not give him free rein to pull her into the fucked up abyss of apathy and ignorance in which he chooses to reside. I am her only hope and I will NOT let her down or steal her light. We will all be okay. We will not only survive this, but come back stronger. There are no excuses. I am a Phoenix. Burn, baby, burn.

3/7/12 – Personal Revolution

I think at some time in your life you reach a point where you’ve suffered enough to either gain clarity or to give up.  You experience this epiphany where you look back and realize that everything you ever thought you wanted – wasn’t; all the things you thought would make you happy – didn’t; what seemed important – insignificant.   Your previous reactions and choices, which once seemed like they were the right things to do, no longer make any logical sense and your focus is suddenly drawn to all the broken roads and pitfalls that they lead you into rather than any positive outcome.  You look back and think… “What the f*ck was I doing?”

It’s then that you take inventory of your life and decide to reject anything that reminds you of your broken past, to take a stand against settling for anything less than you deserve.  It’s when you can reflect on what you really wanted, deep down in your soul, that is unbiased by social status or other people’s opinion and reach for it.  It’s when you finally can find the courage to throw on your shit-kickers and follow your own road less taken. It’s reclaiming your life, your own personal revolution.

I think part of it is growing up.  The other part is beginning to care about stopping the emotional bleeding once and for all.  It’s loving yourself enough to want to be happy.

All of this has brought me here.  All my wrong turns and missteps have brought me to a much healthier place.  I finally feel that I’m empowered to be who I really am and embrace all the things that others have tried to stifle and beat out of me.  I can be a geek, I can use big words, I can question theory or just say “who cares?” I can choose to disagree or agree.  I can change my mind.  I can do all the goofy things I always wanted to do.  I can reinvent myself a hundred times until it stops feeling like I’m faking it.  I can be simple and old fashioned.  I can make myself better without being accused of having a stupid motivation OTHER than to like myself.  I can slowly let down the mask I’ve been hiding behind for as long as I can remember.  I can JUST BE.

I am slowly finding my strength again instead of being constantly battle weary.  My scars are healing and those that remain are changing bit by bit from ugly souvenirs of sorrow to reminders of what I no longer want to be.  I feel like I have more of an opportunity to live rather than simply survive.  I’m venturing into the unknown, accomplishing things that I was always told I’d never be able to do, discovering that so much that I’ve been told all these years were wrong:  I have value, I am good enough, I am going to be okay.  I am doing just fine without them and in fact:  BETTER.   I can embrace the little things and appreciate them for what they are because I’ve seen my fair share of people just doing the bare minimum of the big things and thinking it’s enough, or not even trying. I can love because I want to and not because I NEED someone to love me. I can allow myself to BE loved.  I can see that what I always associated with love was simply obsession and control.  I’m starting to understand that sometimes people can be nice to me without a motive other than to see me smile, that sometimes people might see me as unconditionally as I see them.  I can look at all my stupid created phobias and force myself through them just to prove that I am stronger than I think.  I can trust in not only in myself to make positive choices, but also in other people.  I’m living, not merely surviving.  Really living.

It’s not always easy.  I’m still getting my land legs and sometimes I’m skittish.  Sometimes the simplest thing sends me running for my armor.  Sometimes I feel certain the floor is going to fall out.  Sometimes I question all of the above and get scared because, while my head tells me that it’s right and “normal”, the difference from my totally fucked up norm really freaks me out.  Sometimes I have to call my brother to redirect me, to put it all in perspective because I interpreted something wrong and I’m over-thinking again and searching for the red flags, hell bent on damage control.  I’m still working on accepting that sometimes people have bad days and I can’t beat myself up over mine, that it’s okay to be imperfect or sometimes be weak.  I’m still a work in progress and still trying to treat myself with the same care I extend to others.  I’m learning to lean on people, ask for help, without freaking out that they might think I’m using them or too much trouble.  Some days it’s leaps and others it’s baby steps, but they’re almost always in the same direction and of that I’m really proud.

Letter I May Not Send.

(Note:  There are no problems.  I’m very insecure right now and there are NO demands that I change anything, just small reminders that some things I do are NOT healthy for me and that especially my smoking is gross… this is just me freaking out, before those of you that are protective think that someone is trying to change me, they’re not.  I’m simply worried and psyching myself out that it will make a difference someday if I can’t consistently be myself and take better care of myself.)

I know sometimes I’m frustrating and not what you want.  I know that I do some dumb things and I know that I shouldn’t.  Habits are hard to break and I’m trying.  I really am.  I’m making progress, sometimes big steps, sometimes I trip and fall back, but I’m doing something. I know that you hate the smoking and swearing, the Northern and intellectual arrogance, the occasional apathy, the lack of confidence and faith and the negativity.  I do, too.  I’m not proud of myself sometimes. I’m not proud of myself a lot.  I’ve been forced to live a much different life than you.  I wasn’t blessed with structure or someone on my butt all the time to make me do what I should when I was young.  I was always just someone to placate so I’d get out of the way.  It’s not an excuse, just a hurdle.  Everything I am I did myself and while I made some really bad choices, I guess I’m not in as poor shape as I really could be.  I’m beat up, but I’m not broken.  I’m smart enough to learn lessons, maybe not the first time or even the second, but I do.  Everything that had made me has made me truly appreciate you and who you are.

I want to stop being this hard-edged, guarded girl that I was forced to be to survive.  I’m damaged and no one has ever given me a chance to heal before just adding their own bruises.  It’s not who I am deep down; however, sometimes I think my armor just kind of became an unwanted part of my façade because it was necessary.  I’m tired of fighting.  I’m tired of being this fortress and being under constant attack.  I’d much rather have a porch and white picket fence.  Does that make sense?

I want to give you the best of me.  I want to be better.  I want to be everything I’ve always wanted to be but couldn’t, I want to be myself again.  I’m taking baby steps and maybe it’s a longer road than you’d like, but I can promise you that you know my heart and soul and that eventually it will better.   I know I am worth it in the long run.  I can promise that the good things will never change:  I’ll always be fiercely loyal, I’ll always support you in your endeavors, I’ll always be your friend first.  I just need you to be patient while I try to finally grow, pick me up if I fall on my face and keep throwing me back in the ring if I try to quit fighting.  I can’t promise I’ll ever be perfect, but accept me as I accept you – unconditionally – because I need to do all these things for MYSELF and not to please you.  I know that everything can and will be ok over time.  I just have to stop freaking out and focus… Change is HARD.

2/25/2012

it’s been a really crazy few weeks. I’m still dealing with the custodial issues, but due to the crazy harassment by the ex had to get the police involved. While cleaning last week, I found something the police felt was a crack pipe. I didn’t even know what it was, I’m so naive sometimes. It’s really upsetting that it could have been that bad and I didn’t know. I knew about the booze and painkillers but the fact that the problem may have been even worse kills me. This shit was in my home… with my children… with someone who was alone and supposed to be in charge of a 4 year old. I feel horrible, like I truly let my kids down. I should have been more proactive, I should have ended this a long time ago when it began… I don’t even know why I didn’t. He was not productive, he didn’t pay any bills. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I’m having difficulty chalking it up to a bad experience and to a lesson learned. I can’t stop beating myself up over it.

After I found the pipe, I told him not to bother picking up Peanut. I have called her a few times when she was visiting her dad and he was completely slurring and I could tell that he was under the influence of something. The pipe was the last straw. I needed to do what was good for her. The refusal to hand her over started a tirade of texts and phone calls a few minutes apart and over a period of a few hours. I finally went to the police and asked him to make it stop. Fortunately, it’s been nearly a week without contact with him. It’s actually a nice change. I can breathe a little better. It’s been more difficult having Peanut full time, since I have virtually no free time for my business stuff or the things I used to take care of when the kids were not around, but I’m adjusting. I’m still afraid of what he might do if he’s inebriated, like that he might try to take Peanut but I’m starting to relax more each day. Peanut and I have been out of town all weekend with my boyfriend and it’s been really good… almost like a normal “family” would be.  She’s eating up the attention and I’m loving it.

2/7/11- Convolutions about Love, God, and Faith – Part I (because the first one took too long)

I have been thinking about a lot of things.  Funny how speaking with someone who actually has a brain can provoke deep thought.  I love debate.  I love when someone can argue with me respectfully and intelligently and actually make me think about what they have said.  It’s not easy.  I’m usually very stubborn and bullheaded about things and there are very few people in the world that can make a point about things and I will stop and really consider what they’ve said.  More times than not… People can plead their case with me and I’ll listen and respect their views (as long as they’re not totally unreasonable (bigotry, gay-bashing, etc) but when it’s over I usually have an attitude of “Eh” and go on with my life as usual.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about love.  Romantic love, not the kind you have for your family or friends.  Every time I think that I have it, I’m wrong.  The people that have said they have loved me have not, because if they did, they never would have done the things they did to me.  Every time I thought I was in love, I eventually didn’t feel it anymore… I mean, not “just because”, but because of the situations I had to face, so I guess it’s not that horrible that I had a change of heart, even though I now regret that I ever said the words to them at all.  I’ve spent the last 4 years being forced to say the words when I didn’t want to say them, having them burn up my throat like bile, making me feel like a liar because I at first refused to reciprocate and then finally relented to make him shut up.

Still, I’ve always had this conception of what it should be and it’s never been as I imagined.  Maybe I watch too many movies (that always make me cry and think “I want THAT!!!”) but I have so many questions… Can you be in love with several different people throughout your life (obviously at different times)?  How do you separate love from infatuation?  How can you be sure that someone loves you, I mean REALLY loves YOU, not what you represent or can provide?  How do you know that just because it feels “right”, it is?  How do you know what’s real and when it isn’t?  How / Why / What… I know I’m over-thinking this (how unusual of me) but I just can’t help it right now.  I really want to know.  I really need to know… that way my brain can just shut the hell up already and I can stop thinking about it.

I ask because of this… everything I’m going through now with the new guy in my life.  The new boyfriend (You have no idea how much I LOVE that word right now).  It’s only been a few weeks since he dropped into my life and I totally don’t want to think of a time that he won’t be in it.  I mean, ok, in the span of those few weeks we have talked for hours every day and spent an entire weekend together, but still… it’s really soon.  Even though we’ve communicated better and on a deeper level in these few weeks than I probably ever have with anyone that I haven’t known for many years, and even then, that I’m extremely close to, it’s still soon.  The timeline is totally skewed with us and sometimes it’s hard to really understand everything that’s transpiring.  Maybe it’s the communication or that we’ve been ourselves when we do talk, that we have so many of the same lofty (or simple and old-fashioned) thoughts about life and the world.  I’m being no one but myself and he still talks to me!  We talk about the future a lot and I really believe there will be one.  We talk about life and plans and how to make this work and above all, I really want it to work.  The distance keeps me in check sometimes to keep doing the things I need to do, some of them so a future would be possible.  I hate it, but I deal with it because he makes me so happy in the time I get to talk to him and when I can see him that it’s worth it to me.  I would have never been able to stand this kind of distance before.  I couldn’t even stand having boyfriends that lived in the city, just 30-40 minutes away, that I couldn’t see at least a few times a week or whenever I wanted.  I’d end up breaking it off and finding someone much more available in a big hurry, usually after they were first unavailable to me.  Right now, he and I can only see each other every other weekend (and this upcoming one on a limited basis since he has military obligations) and while it makes me sad, I’m able to resign myself to it because he means that much to me as a person.  I just don’t know what is happening to me and while I want to call it love, like REAL love, and say that I do, I’m afraid that it’s too soon or that I’m wrong.   Do I think I love him, like REALLY?  Yes.  He makes me better.   He calms me down just by talking to me, even if it’s the smallest, simplest thing.  He strips my armor without trying.  He thinks I’m beautiful in jeans and a hoodie, hair a mess in a ponytail and without makeup.    I’m open with him and honest about things and it’s EASY.  He knows and likes the person I really am.  I don’t feel like I have to wear this mask I’ve worn for years or be someone’s Barbie or pretend to be someone I’m not.  I respect him.  I’m proud of him and what he stands for and what he does.  We just click and seem to have done so from the beginning.  He makes me want to be a better person both because I want to be proud of myself for doing so, but also because I want him to be proud of me.  I’ve always been pretending to be someone else to make people like me, even if I don’t always like myself doing it or haven’t been comfortable.  I’ve always felt like I needed to dress up more, look sexier, be dumber, be quieter, be less spontaneous, be more of a party girl or have a more open wallet, to give give give whether it be material, my own ethics, or pieces of me for them to break.  He makes me sappy and it’s always been hard for me to be like that with anyone.  I have almost always had a hard time expressing any feeling about someone to them that wasn’t negative and could really only even begin to even try to tell someone how I feel when I was COMPLETELY obliterated by alcohol.  He makes me laugh and when I think of him I just smile.  I count the days until I can see him again.  I wish I could understand it all.   I wish I knew if this was all real.  Every night when I hang up with him this week I’ve caught the words on my tongue and had to shove them back, leaving this weird silence.  I just don’t want to be wrong again.