Tag Archives: Self realization

Merry-Go-Round

Remember when you were a kid and parks had merry-go-rounds? Your friends would dare you to hop on while another one would starting twirling you around and around and around until the world passed you by in a blur? Yeah, I remember those too. Those blessed, dizzy-making, accidentswaitingtohappen machines have all been removed from parks now likely because some parent, somewhere, was mad that their child didn’t come with the qualities of a rubber bouncy ball and hit the ground hard instead of bouncing.

Life is a lot like those crazy ass mery-go-rounds.  You hop off of one of those trips around the circle, dizzy as all hell, your world turned upside down and you have no clue how you’re going to walk one step forward, let alone walk for the rest of the day.  Some kids ignore the blanent obstable of the world spinning in their eyes and think, I got this! I’m gonna make a run for it.  They take off, make it all of a half of a step and crash onto their faces.  Other kids stop, take a breath, close their eyes and simply wait for the world to right itself and then take their step and carry on.  Blissfully unaffected by the stomach turning ride they’d just undertaken.

Can you guess which kid I was?  Yeah, patience never has been a virtue of mine.

I am teaching myself to resist the urge to just run head-long into the dizziness. I am encouraging myself to simply close my eyes, acknowledge the moment, remind myself that whatever situation I’m in, whatever I’m feeling isn’t permanent and if I just stop, experience the dizziness and wait, the world will be right when I open my eyes.  I am also teaching myself that I get to dictate when I’m ready to open my eyes.  No one else does.  I don’t need to explain how much time I need to stand there, I don’t need to explain why I need to stand there and I don’t need to adhere to anyone else’s timeline but my own.  I am allowing myself to experience my feelings, acknowledge them and take the time I need to take to get through it.

I am attempting to put this method of thinking into practice in many areas of my life.  Patience with myself.  Allowing myself to be perfectly imperfect.  Not searching for validation of what I’m feeling or the choices I make from other people.  Simply not searching for validation from anyone but myself.  I am practicing speaking good things about myself without having to caveat that with an explanation.  I am acknowledging my areas of weakness and attempting to accept them.  But more importantly, I am practicing being ok with all of this.

I am a good hearted person. Full stop.

I am an intelligent woman.  Full stop.

I have a quick wit.  Full stop.

I am unmotivated.  Full stop.

I am headstrong.  Full stop.

I am me.  Full stop.

 

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Being Broken

When I first started this blog, I thought that Random Babble of a Broken Girl would be incredibly fitting. It never occurred to me to question my meaning of “broken”.  I mean here I was identifying as a broken girl but what did that even mean?  What was broken?

I took some time to look through my old posts and how I saw myself hit me square in the face. Although I still view myself as a broken girl, I see myself as broken in a very different way.  When I started this slow, inconsistent journey of publicly writing, I thought of myself as a “bad” person.  I thought my morale compass was broken, that my spirit was dark, and my intentions never pure.  Perhaps that was partially true; and much like a toy when the spring breaks, I was broken.  I needed to be “fixed” so to speak.

In reading my old posts, those feelings still swell in me but the impact is much different.  At one time, those overwhelming emotions would wear me down, help me justify bad decisions, help me excuse my choices – regardless of the consequences.  But over time, and without even realizing it, I’ve come to think of myself as a different type of broken. I’m no longer full of self-loathing, I no longer see my morale compass as being “broken”…skewed for sure but not broken.  I’m not broken because many of the aspects of who I am are pure, good and true.  I have learned that my differences are mine and it’s ok.  It’s ok to not always follow a straight line.  It’s ok to be me.

I have come to realize that, no matter how hard I try to not be, I am prone to guilt, I am prone to worrying about judgment, I am prone to shame, I worry about what certain people think and are going to say and ultimately I am terrified of being rejected. Basically, my self-confidence and esteem are broken.  *I* am no longer broken but rather little pieces of me are.  And maybe they’re not even so much broken as they are underdeveloped.  Maybe I’m not broken at all.  Maybe I never was.

I am struggling. I am struggling with who I am and how to define myself.  I am struggling with allowing myself to truly be me and feeling at peace with that versus worrying about what others think of me.  I struggle with opinions because I don’t have the confidence to say “fuck ‘em”.  It’s quite a dichotomy for me because as a general rule, I do as I want, when I want and how I want.  I care very little about the way some people think of me but then others I have a burning need and desire to prove wrong.  But why?  WHO CARES?

Clearly I do.

I thought that my growth was substantial in the early beginnings of this crazy journey but they weren’t.  I’ve got a helluva way to go but I’ll keep taking baby steps and those baby steps will get me to the woman I know I am. I am the woman that has wings fueled by fiery spirit, the woman that has a heart so tender it could be sliced with a feather, the woman that can harness the power of ten Sirens in one look and the woman who carries a wisdom many centuries older than her earthly age.  I will get there.  I hope you all stick with me, the journey is far from over yet.

~ From the not broken but not whole me.

Hypocrites and High Horses

Looks like I’m shaking off the dust of this rusty old blog once again…I’ve teetered on the decision to send a letter or email vs not saying anything and neither seems to sit well with me but what I’ve got to say has got to be said, just so I can let it go.

Dear You,

Once upon a time ago, about ten years ago actually, I met you with great angst. You made it very clear that I wasn’t wanted in this family nor would I be accepted easily by you. One thing you perhaps didn’t count on is that I rise to a challenge. So I set out to be accepted into the family, what I failed to realize were the unintended consequences of doing so. Over the years I have put you on a pedestal, for what reason? I’m not too sure but I did. I looked up to you and allowed myself to think and believe that you know better, live better, are better. I am learning to accept the fool in me. And that’s exactly what I was. A fool.

Over the years you and your husband and made comment after comment after comment about my life, my issues, my family, the way I live, the decisions I made/make, the way I parent, the way I talk to my husband, the relationship between me and my husband, really there has been nothing sacred that you two didn’t offer your “opinions” on or make some comment about. And I allowed it, worse even I believed it. I believed you two knew better. What a fucking crock of shit.

You are one of the worst hypocrites I have ever come across in my life. You talk to and about my husband, your brother-in-law, as though he is a shit human being and like he takes everything from you two. Open your fucking eyes. He asked his brother for help around his house. Big fucking whoop. That shouldn’t be something that is even used or held above someone’s head. One brother should be able to ask another brother for help without score being kept. The same person who you talk down to is also the same person who has rarely missed a child’s basketball game to which your husband didn’t go to. Why? Because he couldn’t “deal” with it or he was sitting at home sending naked pictures of his cock to strange women. Klassy. This “shit human” is also the same man who tore apart a bedroom so YOU could have somewhere to sleep while your husband was out fucking other women and refused to give you some much-needed space. Awesome. And again, same guy who has taken your kid camping, to parades, and has generally been there when your guy flakes out. But you won’t acknowledge that, you don’t give that to him.

You know, there are a long list of things I am finally, finally!, getting pissed off about but the one thing that sickens me to the actual core is how you’ve handled the last situation. Somehow, your husband was out F-U-C-K-I-N-G other women but somehow that’s my fault? Instead of being honest (whoa, what a concept) you are telling my nieces that *I* am to blame. I didn’t, and don’t, have control over where your man sticks his dick. I didn’t, and haven’t, offered undue “opinions or input” into your marriage. *I* wasn’t the cause of the infidelity but you are certainly comfortable placing blame. You know, I was there for your kid for years, especially when you couldn’t be. The Easter you went fishing or whatever with your Dad and your “man” was supposed to do Easter with us? Yeah, he dropped girlie off and we didn’t see him for three days….guess I had control of his junk then too, right? BUT…she still had Easter even though her Mom was away and her Dad was out trolling. You’re welcome. When you had to leave to be with your nephew, guess who still had a birthday party? And guess who did that? Your daughter has fabulous memories of camping, parades, family picnics, Easter dinner, Christmas dinner, and many more and guess who played a MAJOR factor in that? Yeah, that’d be me. I laugh a little now when I hear you’re doing family dinners and cooking Easter supper…all I can do is laugh a little. They say imitation is the best form of flattery…so I’m flattered.
You know, I’ve thought back to that day…you know the one? The one where I actually told you that your husband was sleeping with other woman and had continued to lie to you even after he said he didn’t. Yeah, that one…and I wonder if, knowing what I know now, would I have chosen differently. There is a part of me, a very mean part of me, that wishes I hadn’t told you. That part of me figures I should have just let it run its course and watched when it blew up in your face. I mean, he was pursuing women pretty aggressively and lots of people circling you were talking about it so it was only a matter of time. I kind of wish you hadn’t been given the opportunity to contain it and keep it private and I had the opportunity to watch those fake ass masks you two wear blow off BUT in the end, I am glad I told you. I know how important keeping your private affairs is to you, and I’m glad that you could do that to some extent and I’m glad you know the truth. So, in answer to myself, no I wouldn’t have done anything differently. If you two work things out, great. If not, that’s your story to write. Either way it goes, I’m kind of relieved, albeit saddened, that I’m out of it.

In the end of all of this, you know what irks me off the most? Is the fact that even if I said any of this directly to you, none of it would get through that thick skull of yours. You are incapable of considering my viewpoint and you have an incredible ability to disapprove of something I do, even when you’re doing it yourself. Brava on that talent by the way, it’s called double standards if you’re ever curious to learn more.

Anyway, there is a lot more that I can vent away about but really, what good is it going to do? I hope you learn how to be honest going forward, with yourself, your family, your spouse and everyone in your life. I know I’ve learned how and I’ll keep on being that way.

*dismounts my high horse*

Ciao.

Head Housekeeping

I don’t know how many times I’ve typed a sentence only to lay on the backspace button and forever erase what I’d just written. Heck, I just did it five times. Every time I open this page I expect some rush of wisdom or witty banter to flow from my thoughts to my fingers and finally into the interwebz that will reap hoardes of viewers and build a healthy following of eager listeners. (I have mentioned my completely unrealistic expectations, right?) And every time I open this page and start typing, I get discouraged by the fact that I erase what I start to say a bunch of times before I actually start getting my thoughts out.

What does that say to me? I have ridiculous expectations and my brain is scattered. I need to start doing a little internal spring cleaning. Get my thoughts out. Get the stuff that keeps rolling around and around and around in my head, OUT! I need to finally embark on the next leg of my healing journey and that is exactly what I’m going to do.

As you may, or may not gathered, I am overweight…like way overweight. No, scratch that. I’m fuggin fat. And I’m sick of it so what do I do? I start planning. Plan, plan, plan and then do a little of the do-ing and then get pissed off because my plans are taking too long (I wasn’t joking about those expectations of mine) and then I self-sabotage and then BOOM! Back to square one. Yes, I do this often. Yes, I know what the definition of insane is. This time, I’m going to do things a little differently. See? Told you I know I’m being insane. This time, I’m not going to focus on my weight or my food or my exercise. This time, I’m going to focus on doing a little head housekeeping. I’m going to try and get my thoughts calmed down, my spirits lifted and remember that I am me. I am going to teach myself how to calm my expectations a little bit. I am going to be patient with myself. I am going to learn what works for me and my body. I am going to learn how to deal with my stress and focus on the undercurrents that may be leading to my sabotage. I know how to eat healthy, I know how to track my food and I know how to exercise. Clearly, there is more going on here than just that. I am holding onto this weight either literally or figuratively or both but regardless of what it is, I am going to get to the bottom of it. Starting now.

Goals for this week:

1) Do one meditation
2) Write at least 3 blog posts or journal entries
3) Find one positive thing about each day to celebrate and post on my facebook status (keeps me real, yo)

Good goals, right? I think so!

Nailing it
Nailing it

Balance Beam of Life

As I pass him on the street, I breath a sigh of relief.  He didn’t recognize me. 

I find myself doing that more and more.  I am not innocent.  I’ve done some pretty risky things.  I’ve lived a pretty risky life.  Perhaps not as risky as some but definitely more risky than others.  Do I fear judgement because of it?  Yes.  Do I fear that people’s opinions of me will be altered?  Yes.

Lately I have surprised myself on the wisdom that I’ve shared.  Then I stop to think about it.  I guess some of my wisdom is hard-earned.

My “before” life was fun.  It was exhillerating.  A new place, a new guy, a new drug, a new game every weekend.  There are times when I think that couldn’t have possibly been me.  Not me, the careful planner.  The one who would bubble wrap everyone she cares about in the world.  The one who knows, or rather wants to know, what’s around every corner.  That girl could not be the same person who sits here writing this today. 

Well of course it’s not.  Well, of course it’s not – sort of.

The girl who sits here writing this and the girl who has a whirlwind of crazy, hazy memories are the same phyiscal person (give or take 100lbs) but in maturity and responsibility, we couldn’t be further apart.

The crazy, hazy girl had no problem sampling the fruits from the forbidden tree and while they were often the prettiest, funnest coloured ones – they were also the ones that came with huge consequences.  The girl now will gladly stick to apples and bananas.  Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I flirt with the idea of my hazy days.  There are times when I want to go back there.  Be irresponsible, be crazy, do things I know I shouldn’t.  Get me drunk and you’ll catch a glimpse of my former days/self.  The difference now (thank God) is that the voice in my head that tells me that I’m about to cross the line has aquired a bull horn over the years and isn’t afraid to use it.  Have I danced on the line?  Sure.  Have I even peeped a toe over?  Yup.  Have I taken a pole and vaulted my ass right over?  Heck no.

The girl that sits before you has gained way too much weight.  She’s got some salt in her otherwise peppered hair.  She spews words of wisdom to those she cares about and those who wants to listen.  She plans and plans and plans somemore.  It’s her way of controlling her life.  It’s her way of keeping herself in check and making sure that line is a safe distance off on the horizon.  It’s her new comfort zone.

I am learning how to be ok with stability.  I am learning how to be ok with routine.  I’m learning how to not crave the craziness.  It’s not an easy thing to do but I’m learning.

Balance beam of life