Loss and Love

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” – Maya Angelou

It is with deep and mixed emotions that I write these words. I didn’t know if I ever would share, but I can’t deny that I write to process things. And I hope that any woman with this experience will find some comfort in my words – if only to know that she’s not alone in her grief.

2 weeks after finding out we were having a baby I started bleeding. I had been out running errands, came back home and saw that my cotton pants were soaked.  Naturally I was freaking out. I called The One in hysteria. While he was on his way to see me I called the local hospital (and also where I work) in hysteria. We spent the next couple of days in and out of doctor’s appointments and diagnostics. The end result was that it was too soon to tell anything and we’d have to wait and see.

The doctor did observe the interactions between The One and I. He said we were obviously very supportive of one another and to take some comfort in that because he rarely sees couples on our level. Looking back on this experience, I still take comfort in this.

I waited. I was worried, anxious, and even neurotic at times. There were more visits, more diagnostics; even more blood drawn. My HCG levels had not gone up as they should have. It was not a viable pregnancy and I had experienced an incomplete miscarriage. I had to be scheduled for a D&C and wait another week before the procedure would be done. I guess my body was trying to hold on because psychologically I wasn’t ready to let go.  

I give him as much credit as I could possibly give another human being. The One was as supportive as he knew how to be. He acknowledged that he couldn’t quite relate to how I felt. It’s true . . . one can only really relate if one has experienced it – the slight changes my body was making: the mood swings, the increased heart beat due to a vascular system working even harder to pump blood down to a growing cluster of cells, the random cravings and the tiny little things that were uncomfortable and inconvenient – yet still brought a smile to my face because I knew it was all for one tiny growing baby bean sprout. Sure, it was just a cluster of cells; but it was my tiny little cluster. Sure, it’s a common experience for women; but that doesn’t make it any easier.

The One didn’t question me when I’d sob uncontrollably before drifting off to sleep. I never had to explain myself. Part of it was hormones and part of it was grief and sadness.

I had missed a considerable amount of work. I knew that life would carry on and I would need to carry on with it. When I’d start crying I looked at the clock on more than one occasion and told myself I had 5 more minutes to be sad. Five more minutes to allow myself to cry. Five more minutes to grieve and feel sorry for myself. It took a couple of weeks and an unnecessary amount of retail therapy before I stopped needing 5 more minutes.

It’s a form of sadness that has been genuinely difficult to describe. It’s a loss of the feeling of life and a loss of the excitement over what could have been. It’s a form of sadness that is understood only by other women who have experienced the same kind of loss. It was through this experience that I felt a sense of sisterhood I had not yet found among women. In fact, I had doubted that type of bond even existed. And it was this grief that somehow served as a conduit.

“And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow, let it be.” – The Beatles.

It was on my last memorable night of grief that I finally finished Women Who Run With the Wolves. For the public record, I’m reading the footnotes . . . and then I’ll probably start the whole thing over again from the beginning. Clarissa Pinkola Estes wrote a footnote on the 2^nd or 3^rd chapter about a figure in Mexican folklore that is known for collecting the souls of miscarried babies and planting their seeds in another womb. So the little one never really goes away, it’s just given a new home. It’s a nice thought. And maybe Baby Bean Sprout just wasn’t ready to join our world yet. I’m ready when you are, Little One.

I lit a candle for you. Until we meet again, Little One.

And it was through this experience that The One showed me just how many forms love can take. Love is when he held me because he knew why I was crying. Love is when he held me and had no idea why I was crying. Love is understanding my need for writing, biking and retail therapy. Love is accepting a cantankerous old hound because he knows how much I love that hound. Love is his amusement when I offer him a key to my bike lock instead of my car because I’m not paying attention. Love is picking me up on a rainy night because I managed to get lost on my bike. Love is finding the best possible attributes for my worst idiosyncrasies.

Love was dealing with my hormonal mood swings of tears and bouts of anger. Love was telling me I’m beautiful even though my breasts were tender and overly engorged. Love was (and is) checking me out when I’m cringing in the mirror at my stretch marks. Love is joking about how when we were young and cute and thought we’d stay that way forever.

Love is choosing to see me in the best possible light and this is a choice he makes every day. Rather than chalking my forgetfulness to an air-headed person, he tells me I’m forgetful because I’m a writer and I’m too busy remembering the very important details that most others won’t notice. And obviously there’s only so much memory one person can hold. 

"The best love is that kind that awakens the soul; that makes us reach for more, that plants the fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. That's what I hope to give you forever."  - Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

These Boots Are Made For Walking

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” – Rumi

I’ve been working on my own emotional well-being lately. It’s hard to move past resentment when people keep adding to it. Rather than shroud my thoughts with a mask of vague statements I’ll speak as plainly as possible. My family has a knack for nagging or guilting me into doing things . . . this time around it has to do with visiting my mother who is recovering from a back surgery. I can’t stand much to be around her, there’s too much bad blood between us and there’s been more than one occasion in which I’ve wanted to throw up my hands and ask why we even bother with this charade anymore. She wants the privilege of saying she has a daughter, but she doesn’t really want a daughter. I simply want to be as far removed from the situation as possible and they want to pull me back in. Why?!

On a side note, I'm off of medications entirely. I only managed to do that when I was finally out of that house. She hasn't made the connection between the two yet. 

You've managed to free yourself of the burden of me. You can quit exuding a forced maternal-like instinct.

When I’m frustrated with the double standards, mixed messages and feeling of never being good enough, I remind myself that there was a time in my life when I was loved unconditionally. I try to remember their faces, their voices, what it felt like to have that solid foundation of patience and understanding and tell myself that they’re still with me, even if I don’t always feel at one with the Universe. They’re in my DNA – they pulse through my veins and perhaps I’m with them now in some other dimension in time.

" . . . and death was his road to awe." I'll see you in the next life if not again in this one.

Aside from the hound (that goes without saying, really), I put myself first. When it comes to friendships, activities and this amusing process of dating I refuse to be around someone who is a vortex of anger, negativity and resentment. This is not the outlook in life I want. It’s not that I’ve never had my moments, because I have. I just choose not to live in those moments . . . forever. I’ve set high standards for myself and I fully intend to stick to them. In hindsight, this has led to some amusing scenarios.

Meet my online dating inbox. 

If a guy says he’s going to call and doesn’t that’s it. Seriously. I’ve had a few try to contact me after pulling something like that and I let my silence speak for me. I refuse to put up with that kind of nonsense. I refuse to put up with degrading behavior.  I was out for sushi with someone and he couldn’t take his eyes off my chest. I get it. I have boobs. They’re pretty amazing . . . . but there’s more to me than that. Thanks for the seaweed salad, guy. I won’t miss you.

Something like that. 

I met someone for coffee over the weekend. His nervousness made me feel badly for him; he was visibly shaky. I told him lets skip coffee and have a glass of wine at my place instead. He calmed down a little and started to open up a bit after my constant reassurance that this isn’t a competition and I’d really like to know who he is as a human being, not how much money he makes or the amount of success he’s had in life. He had potential . . . . and then he corrected a grammatical typo on one of my text messages last night. Alright Mr. Grammar Nazi, meet my Doc Marten boots. I will gladly take out my boots for the men that insist that I operate around their schedule to meet them in person (no thank you), the men who feel the need to point out my inferiorities to feel better about themselves, the flaky men, the untruthful men and also the ones who can’t quite manage to pull their gaze away from my cleavage . . . My boots are ready, gentlemen!

Actually . . . it was Autocorrect's fault. 

I’ve had only a couple of people tell me I’m being too picky. I very much disagree with that statement. I just have standards and I refuse to compromise. There’s nothing wrong with seeing my own value. Also, it took me a long time to see my worth in this life. I’ll be holding onto that rather than letting some random idiot wreck it completely just because someone thinks I should be in a relationship and am *still* single because I’m just plain too picky. I think those people should meet my boots as well. While I’m on a roll, I think my faux maternal figure can meet my Doc Martens, too. There. I said it. I feel better. 

Obviously not my Doc Martens . . . . . but I'm really crushing on these boots right now. 

"I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing. The power of love came into me, and I became fierce like a lion, then tender like the evening star." - Rumi

Warfare

My experience with dating so far has led me to this conclusion: It really all boils down to psychological warfare. Also, people in general are idiots. On any online dating site it’s commonplace to see things written such as “Be real” and “Not into mind games” and “No drama”. Those lines tell me the following: 1. You are probably the biggest phony that ever lived. 2. You are psychologically flawed and must be in control at all times. 3. You obviously have drama in your life or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. You have unresolved issues and are projecting your nonsense into cyber world. And then there’s my all-time personal favorite message I get from time to time, “R u real?” No, dumbass. I actually put effort into a profile for your own amusement and gawking pleasure! (Side note: I do NOT upload revealing photos). There was also that one guy that said something along the lines of, “You’re hot, but I’m not sure about you.” Umm . . . . Thanks. Blocked!!!

There was also an inebriated text sent in the wee hours of the morning. Lord help me. 

Of the few I actually have let into my life at least to some small degree I’ve found myself wondering why he hasn’t called or messaged me in several days. What did I do to irritate him? Was I not forthcoming enough in who I truly am? OMG?! Do I lack the level of self-awareness to truly know myself?! And then I remember that I’m one of the most awesome people ever, go cuddle with the hound and get on with life.

I'd choose this guy any day. 

I think I have a far different take on what a guy is actually saying than what he really means. I didn’t really realize this until I was telling my landlord last night how extremely bored I am by most of these guys. If they can’t match me intellectually or emotionally and are unable to carry a semi-intelligent conversation, why do they bother wasting my time?! My latest irritation came when I met a guy in person who seemed interesting enough. The entire time he talked about his connections with local big names of which I know nothing of because that really doesn’t matter to me and also about all of the money he’s made. Nice enough – it just struck me as full of himself and materialistic. From my landlord’s perspective, this was merely a guy’s way of saying he could take care of me.

Then there's the guy who just can't tear himself away from his phone. When in doubt, spill your drink and run. 

There’s a Huffington Post article that resonates with my own thoughts about how ridiculous this entire process really is. Here are a few of my favorite highlights: 1. Thou shalt never maketh plans to hang out in advance, for thou are casual and disinterested. 2. Thou shalt never compliment thy lover. Speaketh only in condescending words. 3. Thou shalt covet many, many lovers, preferably in the same neighborhood. Thou shalt speak of them often. 4. Thou shalt remember, above all: The lover who cares the least wins: One sentimental ‘thinking of you’ could derail all the progress you’ve made! Go into Code Red Aloof mode. Ignore your babe’s texts for hours-long gaps and reply with one-word answers. In no time, you’ll prove your lack of investment and thus restore the balance of power.

Because winning is more important than anything else, right? 

It’s just insanity – our own struggle for power and to always have the upper hand. Every single time I feel the urge to want to blow someone off I’m starting to question why. Did I feel slighted by him and am turning this into a vendetta to protect my own ego? Why did his failure to contact me irritate me so much and how does this tie into my own issues of abandonment? Why does dating feel like one of the hardest games of tug-of-war I’ve ever played?

What I can say is this: I’m paying close attention to not just how he treats me and those close to him, but also how he treats the average person that might cross his path. If he can’t be kind to a stranger it’s highly unlikely he’ll be kind to me when I need him to be.

This loving of a heart. That's what matters. 

Something else that really gets me is that everyone has advice to give me. Everyone. Seriously. The attitude seems to be that because these people are married and I am not, clearly I have flawed logic and that’s why I’m still single so they have hoards of knowledge to bestow upon me! My personal favorite is the concept of a soul mate. I believed in that once upon a time – now I’m a firm believer that what you put into a relationship is exactly what you’ll get out of it. The idea that there’s one perfect guy out there for me and I only just have to find him for my life to feel complete and make myself whole is nonsense.

I love old and new friends - I just don't need the dating advice. Thanks. 

I’ve had very old friends reconnect with me lately. I love them, I do. The problem with their logic is that they still think they know me as the young teenager who hoped someone would rescue her from her nightmarish life. People change. I learned to save myself. I’ve been told that I come across as guarded. That’s probably true and I don’t see that as a bad thing. Being naïve and trusting didn’t do me any favors. I can still be open to the world without living my life like a bumbling idiot thinking that no one could possibly ever want to harm me or take advantage of me.

My dating woes are the least of my problems lately. My radiator blew on me last week, forcing me to take out whatever funds I had left in my account to fix it. I am officially in pauper status again. The silver lining to this is that while my car is now fixed, it forced me to ride my bike to work like I said I would. I’ve been doing 22 miles a day and royally kicking butt. I’m rather proud of myself for that – and also noted a few truths about myself that I had to admit. 1. I’m extremely competitive. How dare that guy pass me on the road?! I’m going to smoke him! 2. I get road rage on the bike, too. This isn’t just from other cyclists acting like total assholes, but also from cat calls and inappropriate stares. There are times I want to dismount my bike and bash in someone’s car window . . . . But then I remind myself of my awesomeness and carry on. 

I have been described as such . . . .But my main point is this: I am not out there for your personal viewing pleasure. I don't care how marvelous my breasts are. 

Running Counterclockwise

“Those who don’t know how to suffer are the worst off. There are times when the only correct thing we can do is bear out troubles until a better day.” – Deng Ming-Dao

Our life is made up of victories and defeats, of miracles and grievances, and of joy and pain. I’ve had a small set back. I’m still waiting to see how it pans out this time around. That’s the thing with PTSD – to me, it feels like it comes out of nowhere for no reason whatsoever. That’s my frustration and this is my grievance. I’m learning to take it in stride, recognize it before it overwhelms me and am still working on keeping the raging ocean of emotions to small ripples instead of tsunamis. This is my victory and I’m not finished with it yet. My guess is I have to pass the same face of the mountain a few more times until I reach the top. 

Maybe when things feel like they're falling apart it's really all falling into place.

I’m asked what can be done to help me. The grievance is that I don’t know the answer to that question. I don’t know how to stop the cycle once it starts. The miracle is that I’m being asked what can be done. The tough exterior I’ve carried for most of my life is wearing thin and those that spend a lot of time with me recognize when I’m troubled. I count this as a miracle as well. I’m far more transparent than I used to be and can’t shut out those closest to me. 

Part of my fear lies in a new transition in life. As a recent college graduate, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m weighing out my options, trying to decide what will be the most rewarding to me in the long run. I have a goal in sight; I just have to jump through more hoops to get there while wondering how on earth I’m going to support myself if I’m in the strange juxtaposition of being too qualified or under qualified. I feel as if the exchange I’ll ultimately have to make is the sacrifice of my own sense of fulfillment for stability by means of income.

I try not to think that far ahead, but I find myself doing it anyway. In my worst nightmare, I’m dancing on a pole so I can spend my days volunteering in the hopes of getting an ‘in’ with the type of work that would give me a sense of fulfillment. I hope it never comes to that – but desperation drives us to do things we never thought ourselves capable. This is my grievance.

Sometimes I feel like singing and howling at the moon simultaneously. 

Even on my worst days, when I want to throw in the towel and drown myself in a river of tears, I still have people that love me and cheer me on. When I feel like I'm going to lose myself and life seems overwhelming, I'm given a shoulder to cry on. This is my miracle. 

“The bad things in life open your eyes to the good things you weren’t paying attention to before.”  - Good Will Hunting

The Process of Transformation

“Healing may not be so much about getting better, as about letting go of everything that isn’t you – all of the expectations, all of the beliefs – and becoming who you are.” – Rachel Naomi Remen

It’s been 4 months and counting since I came out of my last relapse. I’m proud to say that this is a record for me. In conversation with a former professor, I told him how much I appreciated his research in brining science and spirituality together. It was my sense of survival that I found in spirituality that kept me moving forward – finding glimpses of joy when I felt I had none. Working with chakras helped me see that.

Nature has a strong effect on the chakras . . . .and dancing. Definitely dancing. And also wolves. That's my thing - don't question it; just let it happen.

What’s most surprising to me is that this professor who had dedicated most of his life to psychology said he could detect no symptoms of PTSD in my personality. How about that? I’m not dancing and rejoicing yet, because I know there’s a possibility of another trigger – but I’m hoping it’s not just wishful thinking on my part that I hashed out the worst of the worst when I finally realized the source of my anger and hurt.

I think it took a long time before I was ready to see that. I spent the better part of a year cutting people out of my life that weren’t good for me and I was quite lonely for a while. However, this forced me to look inward without the ability to distract myself with the issues, drama, and world views of another.

Trust is learned by our upbringing, I think. It takes patience to foster.  

For some time, people just didn’t recognize me – I had transformed that much.

A dear friend compared me to a butterfly once, because I fought so hard to come out of the cocoon. 

In his lecture, Healing the Luminous Body: The Way of the Shaman, Dr. Alberto Villoldo speaks of how trauma imprints us. He gives an example of a female patient who had seven relationships throughout her lifetime. Her relationship with these seven men each ended in the same place. She eventually discovered that she had had the same relationship with seven different men. By understanding our luminous body – the same concept demonstrated by Dr. Fritz-Albert Popp’s research – we have the ability to heal ourselves.

For now, I’ll rejoice in the transformation while recognizing there’s still a long way to go. I keep my mind open and attempt to do the same with my heart, however guarded it may be.

"Healing does not mean going back to the way things were before, but rather allowing what is now to move us closer to God." - Ram Dass

My heart will shine again, too. I know it. Compassion and love stem from the same place, right? 

Karma, Suitors and Tango Cliques

“The ground we walk on, the plants and creatures, the clouds above constantly dissolving into new formations – each gift of nature possessing its own radiant energy, bound together by cosmic harmony.”  - Ruth Bernhard

I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve run into that are amazed by how I look these days. The word I hear the most is ‘radiant’. Not only do I take this as a huge compliment, but it also tells me that I have begun to process and let go of the pain I was feeling over the loss of someone I loved very deeply – the only person I’ve ever loved that deeply. Don’t get me wrong, there are still days I want to kick myself for everything that took place; not just my actions, but for the actions against me that I allowed. I am my harshest critic and I’m learning to be kinder to myself.

This is what people see in me - the wonder, the awe, the joy

Part of my ‘Chakracise’ is learning to reflect positively. One thought I’ve used quite a bit in meditation lately is this: “Every decision made is a choice between a grievance and a miracle. Relinquish the regret and choose the miracle.” I can look at some of the most ugly things in life I’ve experienced and even if I can’t find a miracle in the actual incident, I can still tell myself that I’m here. Considering the quantity of ugliness I’ve encountered throughout my life, I’d say I’m doing handling it quite smashingly. Even during the times I feel like I’m breaking and life is just too heavy, there is a miracle because I still strive to find something positive. There are days I have to push a little harder, but there is beauty. There is beauty and that’s a miracle.

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.” – Buddha

The more I’ve ventured out of my comfort zone while simultaneously gradually immersing myself in the world of tango I’ve discovered how very cliquish it is. I was told about these cliques, but had not yet witnessed these groups in action.

I went out last night to a venue I’d never been to before. I didn’t know a single soul there. A friend said she was definitely going and a couple of others said they may make an appearance. Guess who got stood up? Part of me thinks I had it coming simply for the way I treated someone recently, and this is where I go off on a tangent.

He recognized me when he spotted me on campus. I kept avoiding eye contact because I didn’t want to talk to him and I couldn’t for the life of me remember why. He did not pick up on my attempt to avoid him completely and approached me where I was sitting with my head down pretending to read. He asked me how I was doing. I couldn’t remember his name until he told me and I still couldn’t remember why I wanted nothing to do with him. He suggests we meet for drinks to catch up. I agreed to it simply because I desperately wanted to remember what it was about this guy that made me want to kick him.

THIS is the type of guy I attract. I'm doing something wrong. 

So, we meet for drinks and he talks about a sociology professor at PSU. He worships the guy and I happen to despise this professor. In fact, said professor landed himself in hot water a year ago for having affairs with his students. Note the plural? This professor in question isn’t a good person. As our conversation was taking place, I was still trying to remember why I stopped talking to this guy to begin with.

I went home that night. It was the beginnings of spring break and I had wanted to do some journaling for some time. It had been so long since I’d written in that book; when I opened it to begin writing I saw that my very last entry was about the guy who approached me on campus. I was then reminded why I didn’t want to associate myself with him: he had acted callously and unkind. So what do I do with this information? Please don’t judge me too harshly with the words that follow.

I receive a text from the guy who approached me at PSU and it was apparent from the beginning that he really only wanted to get in my pants . . . . not happening. So, he’d arrange to meet with me and I was consistently canceling at the last minute – and I’d make the dumbest excuses: I’m giving my dog a bath, I’m washing my hair, I’m practicing rocket science. Despite this, he persisted. I then began to blatantly ignore him for days at a time. I finally realized that what I was doing was just flat out wrong and I came clean and told him I didn’t want his presence in my life. He responded that I ‘had more to do’ with us not speaking for so long. Umm . . . I do not care. What I do care about is my behavior. In spite of him being a jerk, there’s really no reason for me to seek vengeance and take out all of my frustrations on him by being negligent and uncaring.

Yeah . . . I wasn't nice. I'm not proud of it. 

I think whatever we put into the Universe is what comes back. It’s not my place to act out against another. With that in mind, I think I deserved what happened last night. I’m generally a fairly outgoing person. I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone. Truth. When I first arrived there weren’t many dancers, so I saw someone sitting by herself, walked over, introduced myself and asked a million questions about her. She wound up being swept off by someone she dances with often.

Watch and learn . . .  or just keep swimming

So, I sat. I waited. I took in the scene. Even when I’m not dancing, I can learn a thing or two just from watching feet. As I sat there, it began to become more crowded as the night wore on. I then began to see the clique groups that had been mentioned. I started to tune into conversations; it was nothing more than blatant gossip. I felt like I was back in high school. In particular, the private high school that I loathed.

I thought people would grow out of this eventually. I'm beginning to have doubts. 

Eventually I see a friend of my former beloved walk in. I have seen her on campus countless times. I’ve smiled, waved; I’ve even said hello. Every time I’ve been ignored. I eventually gave up because it was obvious that she wanted nothing to do with me. Also, this was long before things between the former beloved and I went terribly wrong. The difference last night is that she acknowledged my presence by actually looking in my direction – but this was not to offer a smile, only an icy cold stare. I wasn’t particularly comfortable, especially because I didn’t know anyone in the room. Thank goodness for the wine. Truth.

I think there was an hour of the event left. I had grown tired of listening to the gossip and the looks of disdain from someone I hardly knew that reminded me of a person I loved and lost. It was just a bit too close of a connection for my liking. I texted the disgustingly cute barista that works in the coffee shop of the PSU library. He tells me to head his way and I oblige. ‘Radiant’ is the first thing he says when he sees me. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on and we spent a few hours catching up on our individual spring break escapades. I probably could have talked to him all night, we have done that on occasion, but he and I both are trying to stay on top of our last term at PSU. Instead I left smiling because his smile is infectious. Truth. I need more people like that in my life.

Complete acceptance and encouragement. I am thankful for the friends who keep cheering me on. 

While I have lately been described as radiant, I still question what sort of vibes I’m sending out to the world. Within the span of only two weeks, I’ve had several men attempt to enter my life and attempt to manipulate. I used to never see that sort of thing coming, now I can spot it before it even begins. If I say that I’m not available, I am not relationship material and I have no desire whatsoever to connect with you on any level – I mean it. One guy in particular wasn’t listening and attempting to use whatever flaws in my character that he knew of against me solely for the purpose of manipulation. I eventually went off. I didn’t hit below the belt, I didn’t call him names or say anything out of cruelty, I simply expressed anger and this surprised him. It surprised me, too. Ava grew a backbone. Who knew?

Seriously, Dude. I couldn't have said it any plainer. 

I can look at the vast majority of the last few weeks as a grievance: the slew of men that are black on the inside that manage find their way into my orbit, the fact that I’m attracting aforementioned men, the cliquishness of a community that is supposed to be ‘social’, the flakey people, the consistent reminders of someone I loved very much and the glares of someone who doesn’t know me. I choose not to. I embrace the miracle.

I see a miracle in my ability to stand up for myself for once, a miracle in the beauty of a dance that I still love, a miracle in the joy I feel when I’m dancing in any form of movement, and a miracle in the people in my life that continue to remind me that I am treasured, valued, radiant and worthy of the best things in life. Today is a miracle. I embrace it. 

I've got the world on a swing. Not string; the swing is far more entertaining. 

"There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein

Reflections and Revelations

“Accept everything about yourself – I mean everything. You are you and that is the beginning and the end. No apologies. No regrets.”  - Clark Moustakas

If this doesn't make you smile, there is something wrong. 

The last two weeks, give or take a little, have been a roller coaster of epic proportions. It started with what I recognized as another PTSD manifestation. I thought I caught it. I thought I stopped it. I recognized the negativity and fear in my thoughts and what emotions those thoughts evoked in me. I thought that was enough. It wasn’t. I soon felt myself drowning in a pain that felt like it was ripping me in two.

I lack to the words to adequately describe how deep that pain is. Nothing I know of in the English language exists. I think this means I should take up another language.

When I began to cut the negativity from my life, good things began to happen. Good things continue to happen. This is unfamiliar territory and the uncertainty of me thinking I’m going to ruin it, that it’s going to go away has been one of the causes that triggered my most recent relapse. The other was joy – because this is an emotion I don’t recall ever feeling and my psyche didn’t know what to do with it . . . so I had a meltdown. There have been no dark and sinister events. There has been no one in my life that inflicts emotional pain. My life is a far cry from what it was only six months ago. That was my message from therapy.

I have been so very blessed. The Universe was smiling on me when it sent a radiant light into my life. We just happened to be in the same place at the same time, and she has been cheering for me ever since. This newly found friend and mentor I’ve been blessed with has had experiences similar to mine, and is far more advance in the healing process than I am. She told me I’ll learn to make PTSD my friend. When I have felt defeated and broken, she’s reminded me of exactly what it is I’m fighting against: me.  That was my message from Radiant Light. Her gentle and reassuring presence has given me the most comfort through this process. Her presence gave me glimpses of peace in the middle of chaos.

A Beautiful Soul more or less told me to quit hiding. To paraphrase his words, PTSD is an obvious part of my essence and I shouldn’t apologize when it manifests. I shouldn’t apologize for being me. When I think about it, I was essentially apologizing for my very existence. This is something for which no apology is needed. Ever. That was my message from the Beautiful Soul that has touched me more deeply than anyone ever has. He has also challenged me and shown more patience than anyone else. Well played, and I love you all the more for it.  

I acknowledge that I’ve had the wrong perception for far too long. I’ve seen the PTSD as something entirely separate from me that lurks within the deep recesses of my mind. An entity that only comes out to torment me; to conquer and destroy. I’ve grappled with it and when I finally opened my eyes, I see that I’ve been grappling with myself the whole time. I accept it as a part of being. I’ll ride the waves as they come. Perhaps I’ll even learn to surf them. 

Eventually I'll go for it and dive in. 

When I began to examine the roller coaster of emotions, I took it personally. I saw the entire process as an act of aggression against me. All I could ask was, Why? Why does this presence exist within my mind? I’ve done everything right. Then I blamed myself for creating it. I blamed myself for allowing to it to take over, because I had yet to acknowledge it as part of my essence at this point. I realized I’ve been blaming myself my whole life. It was pointed out to me today that when a child experiences something traumatic and there is no one there to tell that child otherwise, the child will think he or she was responsible for it occurring. There was a wave of trauma and I blamed myself for every sinister thing that had taken place. I’ve been blaming myself for most of my life – and I’ve been apologizing for every bad thing that’s happened to me or anyone else.

The end result of this pattern of thinking was the perception of myself as a plague that would ruin everything I touched. I am not a plague and none of those events were my fault. I am worthy of existence. That was my message from the Universe.

Can you see the joy? The balance has been restored.

Then there was another message from my Beautiful Radiant Light: The Universe reflects the energy that we exude. I have been shown love, compassion and joy. I’ve been shown patience. I’ve been shown gratitude and beauty. If this is what I’m giving the world, I’d say I’m doing okay.

When I was finally able to admit that I was hurting, I was given compassion and I was loved. Several have expressed a sincere and genuine concern for me. When I grappled with myself that last time, no one reached out. When they asked how I was doing, what they really wanted was for me to paint a rosy picture and pretend that everything was okay. It was a shallow kindness that hurt nearly as much as the pain I was inflicting on myself.

‘What do you need?’ ‘What can I do?’ I admit I didn’t know how to respond. No one has ever asked that  before. So I was given a listening ear, and I’ve been promised a hug the next time I need one. I was held up by others because I was incapable of doing it myself. I was reminded that I amount to something even though I couldn’t see it. I was loved because I couldn’t love myself.

I was also given advice that doesn't ring true to me, "Look back and remember the happy times." I told her that it was too much for me to look back right now. The truth is that there's too much pain to sift through. My happiness is here in this present moment. Then sound advice was given: keep a journal of gratitude. I have been doing so and it reminds me of the beautiful aspects of life that I take for granted. What I've been thankful for so far: I woke up to candlelight; my prayers were still burning and the level of the chakra candle has shifted to focus on another energy. I saw the sunrise for the first time in ages. I have observed a sincerity I never knew existed. Thank you, Radiant Light - for showing me gratitude. 

I’ve been reaching out to others for most of my life when I see that they’re hurting. I’ve been doing this even more lately . . . and now I’ve been touched. I recognized the pain in them and did all I could to hold them until it subsided, and now it’s been reciprocated. It’s the reaching out that I find the most beautiful. A Buddhist priest described humanity to me this way: We are individual pumpkins on a vine. The vine connects us to one another so that when one rejoices, the rest genuinely share joy. When one feels pain, the others feel pain as well. I saw the intricate system of our connection with one another and the Universe through this experience. I've talked about the imagery the Buddhist gave me many years ago ever since it was put in my mind. To describe it is one thing.To see and experience it is something else entirely.  It’s a beautiful thing. That was my revelation.

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other” – Mother Teresa