Tag Archives: guilt

If it quacks like a duck… it must be stunned

Today, during what was originally supposed to be a quick glance through my Facebook feed I read the words “IN WOMEN WITH PERSISTENT CERVICAL CANCER”.

It was in all caps too. PERSISTENT CERVICAL CANCER.

fuck

the urge to cry from worry

fuck

I stared at my screen thinking; Is this a thing? Can women get cervical cancer… on repeat…

My joints started to ache, my skin flushed with needle pricks, my face got hot, I held my breath.

Is this really a thing?

How did I miss this… I mean, I am a medical school dropout for chrissake… one who has worked or volunteered in breast and cervical cancer issues for most of her adult life…

In my head, in that stunned moment after reading that, I had the idea that some women just kept getting cervical cancer… like one gets a cold… they are both viruses, after all.

So, I (somewhat reluctantly, yet with incredible haste) went to my very trusted medical internet sites to see if there was such a thing (complete with a search for an applicable ICD9 code) as Persistent Cervical Cancer.

OK.

deep breath

the urge to cry from relief

Turns out, it is another way of saying metastatic cervical cancer, and just as I had thought before I had read that post cervical cancer recurrence rates (really, it is 5 year survivor rates) are linked to stage of initial diagnosis.

fuck

I wonder if my conversation with a person (a woman who had also had a cancer diagnosis, though of a different variety) just minutes before seeing this, where we talked about how certain things just tend to have an initial thought that you have a recurrence, played into how I reacted (what a sentence this is?!).

Your tooth hurts  – it has spread.

You get a bruise – it has spread.

You have an ache – it is a tumor.

but… maybe not.

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sitting present in the darkness

This past year and some has been a weird process. I have been angrier than I have ever been before. I have been meaner than I was ever before. I have been sadder and more confused. Those are only part of the whole experience…

I have also been lifted higher, I have had moments of intensity that I cannot compare to any prior experience, I have been deeply humbled by people who I never thought cared…

It was super intense…  It is intense.

I am in one of those places today, high off of my birthday (yesterday) greetings, feeling peaceful and loved… in a place where the dark tinge hasn’t invaded my space. I am reflective, and trying to pull myself together in this moment.

Navigating these crazy mix of emotions has been exhausting.  I am sure it has also been exhausting for those who are close to me and can see how much they torment me.

I would see a therapist, but geez.. the one time I tried it took a really bizarre accident to find the most perfect psychiatrist for me to talk to, and any after just were a joke in comparison.  I know this is temporary, and I don’t want to put myself on a course of medication (though I recognize its value,  and think they should be used… it is not for me… not at this time).  My previous experience with fighting off things like this was similar in that it came after a serious illness. What I learned then, that I believe applies now, is that I need to live this craziness and work through it and I am using the strategies I learned then to help, and they are.  The one caveat this time is that I, at a time, was rather dependent on others to take care of my basic needs… and most really let me down.  I think it is that as I prepared myself for surgery, I let go… I promised myself that I would let others take care of me. So I did, and frankly, I still ended up having to take care of myself. Please know that I am talking basic needs, like food… some of the people taking care of me couldn’t even do that to help. So, I suppose I am mad at them, and definitely mad at myself.  I was trained from an early age to take care of things, now this does not mean I keep a clean house, far from that… but I am the type that will carry all the groceries, even if I am shopping with others, mainly because they walk away from the car and leave them all there for someone else and I am like “hell if I am walking up and down my porch stairs more than once, I am taking all these fuckers (bags of groceries) in right now”.  Fuck, am I stubborn or what?

Anyway, lots of thinking about all this crap and how to get myself back in to a happy place is going on. I try not to let it get me down, but it is really in my face at times. I amble through my daily life, trying to make sense of it all, trying to make sense of a world that has changed for me. Repeating tiny mantras about how “lucky I am”, or how “this world has so much wonderful for me” flutter through my head as my body tries to grasp them and hold them close to my heart. I was a much happier person 18 months ago, when I embarked on this path, and I have learned that grief, this kind of grief (the one for loss of self, rather than loss of others) is pretty fucking intense. I have changed, I cuss more… a lot more. I didn’t use to, I saved them for occasions that seemed to benefit from a well placed expletive.

There is so much complexity to this. It involves being disappointed by members of my own family and in tun trying to figure out if I had unrealistic expectations for them… because if I didn’t have the unrealistic expectations, and they really did disappoint me, that kind of makes me kind of stupid.  So, there have been a lot of questions I have been asking myself, and I am not the type that is afraid of hard questions… so that has been easy. Learning how human I am has been a mix of easy and hard. Working through stupid things people thoughtlessly said to me and which, for some stupid reason, are ringing bells and demanding my attention has been strange. There is this strange mix of braggadocio and humility in my self reflections that is a little tough to manage.  I think though, that I am starting to tell myself that I like myself again, and that is a good thing.

This shit is supposed to make me happy… follow up from yesterday

So, almost immediately (lets call it a Latin American immediately, it was probably 25 minutes 8 hours) after I posted my little ditty yesterday, I came across this: 21 Simple “Non-Spiritual” Things that make for Daily Happiness.

This came up in an image search using the words “making me happy” seemed an apt descriptor. Cat!

So the first thing you see is a happy young Paul Newman. Which is fine, but for me it was really about his nipples.

Have I written about the weird fascination I have developed about men’s nipples since I had the cancer cut out of me? No? Maybe? I dunno, but it is this bizarre thing that I noticed shortly after coming home from the hospital and watching Netflix… It is one of those feelings like one might get when they become fascinated by a car accident, rubbernecking their way past it all attention focused on the crash and not on the road in front of them.

So, my first thought was Nipples are a “non-spiritual” thing that makes for daily happiness? I don’t think so?

But I read on, and decided I had to try it out and here are my observations:

1. Touch water. Which feel good type thinks telling a fire sign that they should play with water to feel better is obviously a narrow minded water sign… I played with fire, sat with the family in front of it while drinking warm turmeric hot chocolate.

2. Sweat once a day. I did, enjoyed it too! 😉

3. Eat real food. I ate a small piece of my fudge pecan pie, because it is that good.

4. Support, subscribe, read a good magazine (print or online) that’s better than you are—with a hot drink of coffee or tea and a little sunshine and quiet.  I don’t believe that anything is better than anything else, it is not even a matter of degrees – shit just is so this one pissed me off because who or what the fuck is better than I am and to its contrary, what the fuck am I better than?  So, in lieu of this better than shite, I picked up a favorite book.

 5. Keep our clothes off the floor.  PASS
6. Community.  OK, so some of my friends (many who took care of me while I recovered) and I adopted a single mom with stage 3 breast cancer this Christmas… knowing how fucktastic cancer makes the holidays I do feel good about this one! Most of us went shopping together the other day and it was all kinds of awesome!
7. Don’t be afraid to be a fool.  I am not really afraid to go here, I do it often… BUT, and it happens to be a big huge BUT… I have to do it, if someone else does this to me, I crumple like a dead witch that had water poured over her! Working on letting others tease me with cruelty.

8. Work in an office, or live with, a dog. I have “Flash aaaahhhh ahhh Savior of the Universe Gordon Boba Fett [redacted last name to protect the unborn].

9. Breathe in and out, slowly, once a day. Thankfully, I have to do this or I can’t get out of bed.

10. Never eat while standing up, or driving. I rarely eat in these situations, though I might want to consider no longer eating at my desk because that is how I consume massive  jars of peanut butter.

11. Never cell phone while talking, or walking. I hate it when people do this to me, seems only fair.

12. Hike. I walk, on occasion.

13. Stop obsessing about one’s own happiness. I don’t think I obsess about this, though it would be nice to feel less of the angry ennui.

14. Put on a favorite song and sing it out, like we mean it. Yes, during most commutes home.

15. Pick up trash in the street. I try to do this every day, try – don’t always – but never saw this as a way to feel less grumpy.

16. Watch a movie and eat a little too much ice cream/pop corn/vegan ice cream/edamame/nuts. With peanut butter!

17. Put a few photos of loved ones around. I do this, in many ways.

18. Be honest. an important value I hold dear.

19. Sleep more. My fit bit helps me keep tabs on this. Interestingly enough I find that on the night I have time to drink turmeric milk (with or without hot chocolate) I tend to sleep really well.

20. Write. this. here. meh.

21. Meditate. Ever since I became inspired to teach my son to meditate I have had to do this every night. He loves it, we usually play some you-tube videos for this, but I stay with him for a bit and play along.

 

And… just because I love to self torture, here are my reflections on how I tried to fight being grumpy the “elephant journal way” with the suggestions not listed above (regurgitate much elephant journal?):

4. Friends – phew, this is hard – I have two days worth of texts from friends that I have to reply to because they want to do something for my birthday.

5. Sunshine. Arizona.

7. Flirt – I work in a school who would be my main contacts, that is just creepy.

8. Dress well. I have played dress up all week. It helps.

11. Relax. Give in. Hardest. Thing. Ever.

Take a Letter Maria…

This is an open letter to Tim Lawrence from The Adversity Within. I actually did send this to him via email.  I put some things in that email that I felt worthy of sharing here as well.

Dear Tim,
Thank you for your posts. They gave me permission to grieve. I find that almost funny to write to you… I don’t consider myself someone who would be adverse to allowing grief to flow as it needs, but that is exactly where I found myself. This was not my first bout with a trauma that induced grief. It was the first one that left me confused and scared and that I stopped grieving in. I read your last post “Everything Doesn’t Happen For a Reason”, shared through social media. It prompted some interesting discussion about what it meant for us to have people there “for” us or “with” us. It was semantic nitpicking, but it was interesting. The article, that conversation, and the perusal of other things you have written caused me to realize that somewhere along my recovery, in my case from a cancer diagnosis and treatment plan, I had stopped grieving… and what was so beautiful was that I now had permission to return to it with as much grace as I needed.  That moment of realization, was really powerful.
I am a believer that gratitude should be honestly and freely given, so I give you thanks for your part in returning me back to myself (in a metaphorical sense, of course). I know I was me this whole time, but I felt more like the me I like when I stopped being so stubborn about grief.

The weight that was lifted upon the realization that this is what had happened to me; that I had stopped my grieving process right smack at the start was startling, tear invoking, and almost as traumatic as the state of stanched grief I had been experiencing. The caveat between them being that once grief was allowed back in, the feelings ebbed and flowed when grief was allowed versus rigid discomfort from when I was in the constant state of disavowal.

I have a tendency to manage grief with occasional bouts of extending gratitude (which is, ironically, what I was doing when I believe I stopped my grieving process). I am not sure what happened this time, it felt different. I am not sure where it came from; this idea that I had to own feigned stoicism… perhaps from the idea that while I had it bad, it was not as bad as others. Perhaps from listening too closely to family and friends as they repeatedly told me “you are so lucky”. I don’t know, really where this craziness started… but I can smile about it now, I can know that I am still grieving, though more purposefully now.

Most thankfully and with new-found mournfulness,
Blair Necessities (sic)

One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do…

One year ago I had cancer removed from my body.

1_b

This past year has been clouded. I am still working through it. I have identified and dealt with most of what I have been identified at the root. I think one does not go through something like this and remain unchanged.

I am very changed, and that new me is still trying to find her place in the world she has to navigate. This past year I felt like I was knocked down by people who love me, I don’t know why? I don’t know why I feel this way.

I am sure they did not intend to be a part of this trans-formative year, at least in a negative way. I mean they love me… but things they said and did (and frankly say and do) blasted me to my core. The things said were things I could not relate to in a way that was meaningful.

I cry at the drop of a hat, a song I hear, an image I see, the reflection of light off of my son’s hair as he sits next to me. I don’t know that there is any pattern as they can be sad tears, or happy… some even make no sense.

I am still bitter about gratitude. I dove in and tried to be grateful, but people kept telling me I wasn’t grateful enough. I don’t even know what to do with this.  Considering that I always thought I was strong in this area, it is devastating to feel like I have failed.  Especially since it was to people close to me.

 

Embracing my perfect imperfectness

And now we are at the last step of the suggestions this article has for addressing the negative:

7. Next, mentally (or verbally) say to the image that you know it’s there and you promise to care for and hold it with compassion until it’s ready to go. Do your best to say these words from a very sincere place in your heart.

I think the most shocking, and not surprising (in an after the realization  kind of way) was that I have a deep need to forgive myself for getting cancer… which sounds so shockingly ridiculous on some levels.  I think it has something to do with what this article touches on.  As I approach the finish line of one year of what we call remission, I have to say this was one of the most difficult and vile parts of my life. I am not sure where this heartbreak comes from… when I ponder why this is how I feel, so many things pop into my mind.  The is nothing gentle about cancer. I think I am saddest that I was not able to prevent it from taking so much from me.  How does one forgive cancer? Forgive that it took part of your body, but also part of those more ephemeral human attributes like my heart, my courage, my joy, my hope. It is as if I was Pandora and when I opened my box and let all the evils of the world escape. I will tend to this new part of me with great care, I will strive to forgive myself. This kind of vulnerable is shocking to me, as someone who has considered herself to be strong and had that reinforced by others. The great news is that getting cancer and living life are not pass/fail. I will find something beautiful from all this, even if it is just giving in to my own vulnerabilities. IN the end, after all, all the negative are things I allowed or brought in to my life and maybe on some level I knew I needed to go through them .

Action – reflection:

I was at a leadership retreat recently where we did an exercise in which we had to picture us as an 8 or 9 year-old. We were to talk to her about how wonderful she was, because it is easier to do that than to tell ourselves. It is much easier and carries a much deeper felt reaction to do this exercise.

IMG_7461                 E62EDBED-16E4-46FD-B424-D4875F8D33E9

Little girl Blair, embrace your humanity it is wonderful and strong. It has a resiliency that will keep you persevering. Realize just how much control you have over your own life, and don’t forget that your own life affects others just as others affect you! Carry on with gentleness.

 

Sleep, Pretty baby, Do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby. (day 6)

I now get to step six of the suggestions this article has for addressing the negative:

6. This step is where everything begins to change! Once you have the mental images of what your thoughts and emotions look like (and even if there’s no image at all, this practice still works), picture yourself holding the image (or lack thereof) in the same way a mother holds a newborn baby. Picture the image of your painful thought and emotion wrapped in a warm blanket, being held with very loving care closely to your heart, your chest, as you extend it very sincere compassion from your heart center. (You can also use the imagery of wrapping the thought/emotion in a warm blanket and placing it in a baby carriage, and rocking the carriage back and forth.)

It is interesting to get to this point and realize that in some way, I have been doing this when I talk to little girl Blair at the end of each exercise leading up to this one. I don’t know what I should do other than what it says. I will start by saying that it is awkward to picture myself rocking a lava-lamp like image like I did my own baby. I am not attached to it, I don’t particularly like this image-child. But I am guessing the intent is to see these emotions as something that come from a need for love. So, I am picturing myself trying to love it. It feels much like the way I came to love the color orange.

orange

Growing up in South America my friends and I often talked about how much we loved one color over another, but it never occurred to me to hate a color… at least until I moved to the USA. In “America” stating one favorite color was often a conversation that included what colors we did not like… and I recall sitting in my classroom, with girls proclaiming a love for pink or red or purple and boys loving blue or green… While this gender division for color preference was a bit of a surprise was the number of child who emphatically stated a dislike for yellow, and a hatred for orange.  I was so taken aback as one child after the other made these proclamations, and as someone who loved all color having to pick one, and not knowing which… but seeing how much people disliked orange aroused something in me, something that felt sorry that it was so disliked and when my turn came, I proclaimed my love for orange. I don’t recall what I said for the color I disliked, I probably said I did not dislike any color.   I embraced orange, which took some getting used to, after all I really did not have a favorite… but tried it on, as they might say, as my favorite. So here I am over 35 years later fully loving of that magnificent color orange.

So, I am trying to love this image of my feelings in a similar way.  It feels awkward, but manageable.

Action – reflection:

I was at a leadership retreat recently where we did an exercise in which we had to picture us as an 8 or 9 year-old. We were to talk to her about how wonderful she was, because it is easier to do that than to tell ourselves. It is much easier and carries a much deeper felt reaction to do this exercise.

IMG_7461                 E62EDBED-16E4-46FD-B424-D4875F8D33E9

Little girl Blair, love as fiercely as you have since you were a baby, and keep doing it for the rest of your life. It will serve you well.

 

Every breath you take (day 5)

I now get to step five of the suggestions this article has for addressing the negative:

5. Breathe. We’re at the half way mark and I’d like to offer you a sincere congratulations on completing the first half! Our natural tendency is to suppress these uncomfortable thoughts and emotions, often telling ourselves that we’ll deal with them later—but honestly, does later ever come? Unfortunately for most of us, it never does. So even just by taking the time to become conscious of, and identify these unpleasant thoughts and emotions is a huge step! Let’s not stop there however, because here’s where the really good stuff starts to happen.

For the past week, I have been taking part in the mindfulness summit. I can say that this has all been very complimentary to what I am trying to accomplish personally. I first learn about mindfulness from my doctor.   For the previous year I had endured a health problem that we had trouble trying to identify. I was sleeping almost 20 hours a day on average, and felt a lethargy like no other. I know something was wrong, but I had no idea what.  A fluke helped us diagnose me with valley fever, and the immense relief was fleeting. After a year of intense worry, I was frayed and very depressed and prone to sudden and intense anxiety. My doctor, as luck would have it, was a practitioner of MBSR, and was getting ready to host a session for willing patients. It was something that my insurance at the time would cover. I signed on right away. I hated being medicated for the anxiety and depression. I took his 8 week course and my life was changed. This happened about 20 years ago, I have had maybe 3 anxiety attacks since then and all within the first six months after I finished the course.  Within three months after finishing the class, we decided to stop my medication. I felt like a new person in so many ways. I was able to bring a mindfulness to everything I was doing.

My cancer diagnosis, really threw it a curve-ball. While I don’t think I was having anxiety attacks, I was experiencing something very different, though built-in with anxiety. As I found myself less able to manage the stress that I had been able to manage in my early days of practicing MBSR. A friend mentioned that she was considering doing it, I told her she should and then realized that I might need to have a chance to revisit those lessons. That I had most defiantly moved away from a life of intention and presence.  I decided to bring my son on this journey with me. In part because another friend was talking about how the school he works at is bring in mindfulness to their curriculum, for both students and teachers.  If they could do this with kids, I certainly could with my son. So, I found a free online class, and we started the lessons.

They are something that I consider both easy, and not easy. They make you ask yourself some interesting questions and you have to make some big choices about the person you want to be.   While not a physically taxing endeavor, it can be emotionally.  I had to realize that I was not in a very good place. That it had to do with how my family and I behaved before, during and after my diagnosis. That I could not be accountable for them, but I could be accountable for myself. Sounds easy, it really wasn’t.

I have since learned that it is not unusual to experience the year or so after your treatment options end with more intensity than any other part. This article outlines pretty well, though it speaks to breast cancer which is not what I have had.

“But for many, the time after treatment is a stage of uncertainty physically, mentally and socially.”

I find thoughts of maybe I should have asked for Chemo just in case (I did not need it, my stage 1a1 and type, said it was not necessary), mixed in with concerns over aches and pains being signs of recurrence. This is all a brain trick. On one hand I know better, but my body doesn’t believe me.

I have arrived at a point where I know this is ok. I have three weeks of my efforts and personal mindful mediation coupled with one week of mindfulness summit behind me, these experiences have re-awakened me to less of that negativity that was invading my space. I look forward to my future much more than

The next steps are vaguely reminiscent of the aspect I have been including as a reflection at the end. I wonder how this will go. ♥

Action – reflection:

I was at a leadership retreat recently where we did an exercise in which we had to picture us as an 8 or 9 year-old. We were to talk to her about how wonderful she was, because it is easier to do that than to tell ourselves. It is much easier and carries a much deeper felt reaction to do this exercise.

IMG_7461                 E62EDBED-16E4-46FD-B424-D4875F8D33E9

Little girl Blair, don’t forget to breathe. You are loved. Never ever forget that.

This is going to be hard, and it was (day 3)

Today I gird my loins (ironic, huh?) through  step three of the suggestions this article has for addressing the negative:

3. Next, identify the specific emotions that arise in you as a result of said thoughts. What do they feel like? Is there tightening in your chest? Is your stomach turning or is there a throbbing sensation in your head? Again, any emotion that causes dis-ease is applicable.

[deep breath]

Well, this is going to be hard.

I will start with the easier one for me to discuss, the shame. The  shame is like a flush, it is deep and internal. I feel it come from my heart, and it rises into my throat. It weighs heavily in my brain.  I met, one night, with a friend who is my mentor, she was trying to find women in the Mormon community that would be a word of mouth conduit for encouraging immunization, specifically the HPV vaccine. I invited a Mormon friend to join us.  My friend shared that she had had cervical cancer, and explained that her marriage was to a much older man. The three Mormon women at the table with us, one of whom was a physician,  all nodded their heads in agreement… as if to say, of course, he was an older man and obviously slept with someone else. I was dumbstruck that they all went that route, especially the physician. I was so perturbed by that, that I said that I am a survivor too. They all looked a bit perplexed… they were presented with a situation that they could not discount by blaming the older husband… there was a strange silence. That silence was so full of judgement. I can excuse all of them but the physician, she really should have known better (even if she was a Mormon). I remember watching them around the table, after I shared my cervical cancer status, they all cast their eyes away… I was tempted to mention that I was a DES daughter to help them ease whatever it was they were thinking… but I felt that women who were in that position needed to manage their own thoughts about the disease. I felt shame in that instant, and it was coupled with being judged.

On, being judged. In the early 90’s I worked with my mother on a breast and cervical cancer program in our community. It was a nursing model and one that used lay health educators. I recall my mother telling me that women who had cervical cancer either had husbands that were philanderers or who were themselves “loose”. I feel like those who understand that cervical cancer is transmitted this way judge me. I want to start screaming my sexual history (which is really no ones business other than mine). The judgement plays itself out similar to the shame, but it filled with some indignation. I need to want to explain but with a sense that I really should not have to. I feel this in my stomach,  I get a horrid stomach ache when I feel judged.

There is a related story in which I would say I felt grace. Six months after my surgery I helped host an event to educate people about HPV and the HPV vaccine. One of the other community partners invited a male survivor. He had an HPV related cancer in his throat. During the social hour before the actual event, I talked to him. He told me he was a survivor, and I looked at him and said “So, am I”. We stared in each others eyes. It was as if we had found a kindred spirit. There was a brief moment of silence. And he then whispered at me, “So, you understand”. I felt grace in that moment. I was spiritually lifted in a way  I hadn’t’ been for the 10 months prior. I am so grateful I had that moment.

In terms of the betrayal. I think the hardest think one has to go through might be learning how fallible ones parents are.  The anger I feel at my mom and my aunt is fierce and fiery. When I think about how many times my mother felt that she needed to tell me that I needed to be more grateful to my aunt, to understand that she is awful about being nurturing that for her it was a tremendous success. I feel a heat start in my chest. I feel angry that my mother failed to see that I had recognized that, that my aunt felt that somehow she had gone above and beyond the group of friends and stranger that had organized dinners to be delivered to my home. Really, it was on par. I had thanked her as much as I had thanked them, the only thing being that I realized that taking a dinner to family you don’t really know was a generous act. The underlying thought is that if someone you do know is ill, you actually do, in fact, offer to help. After the burning fire of anger and sense of betrayal form in my chest, it moves to my jaw where I begin to clench my teeth as if I am trying to stop myself from yelling.

These usually all come together at the same time, starting with any one, will lead to the others. It feels like a vicious circle. I also feel like I need to get closure.  Often when they all come together, I wish for a state of non-being. I do not mean in any way that I want to kill myself, but it is more like wishing that I were not sentient, that I were not here, that I had never been. I hate it when I get to this point, thankfully it is not all that frequent that I get that bad.

My mother has apologized to me (I did demand it), though I got the distinct impression she has no idea what for.

Action:

I was at a leadership retreat recently where we did an exercise in which we had to picture us as an 8 or 9 year old. We were to talk to her about how wonderful she was, because it is easier to do that than to tell ourselves. It is much easier and carries a much deeper felt reaction to do this exercise.

E62EDBED-16E4-46FD-B424-D4875F8D33E9

IMG_7461

Blair, you are an amazingly little girl. You live boldly, you love boldly. You have only made human mistakes, and you should not be ashamed of anything that happens to you because of them. You have an amazingly wonderful gift of learning from your mistakes, quickly and deeply. I see you striving so hard to be a good person, that is a good thing, because it means you are.

You willed always be judged, it is an unfair circumstance that we live in a world where people love to cast judgement. So, remember that you don’t need to do that for them. Go to your tendency to look at yourself, learn from it deeply and honestly as you often do. Move on, don’t let that dampen your spirit. No matter what other may say or think, you are a nice person, you always will be.

People will betray you. It is sad. They will betray you in so many ways. They will leave you without rhyme or reason, they will use sacred confidences and toss them out without thought to any consequences other than their right to do so. They will hurt you physically and emotionally. Don’t let them take away your view that the world is still glorious, that mean-ness and cruelty are the exception not the rule. Don’t let them belittle that you believe there is more good in the world than things dark and sordid.

Facing the past/present/future (day 2)

Today I face embrace step two of the suggestions this article has for addressing the negative: 

2. Become very clear on what the specific upset is by identifying the exact thoughts that are bothering you. Are they self-judging, bad memories, or anxiety about future events? Any thought that causes dis-ease in you, regardless of past, present or future is applicable.

I think there is something very complex here, at least for me. One on end I feel very betrayed by my mother. She chose to stand up for my aunt and chastise me over my not thanking my aunt enough. I was in a more vulnerable place than my aunt, I was desperately seeking a place where good was abundant, I was beating myself up for getting a cancer that is considered sexually transmitted. So, maybe I saw the motivation behind my mother taking me down as an effect of her (and obviously my own) judgement about that. There is a lot of feelings of being a failure, there is a lot of feelings of feeling abandoned. And with those, there is a certain anxiety about my future.

Action:

I was at a leadership retreat recently where we did an exercise in which we had to picture us as an 8 or 9 year old. We were to talk to her about how wonderful she was, because it is easier to do that than to tell ourselves.

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Blair, you are a strong, kind, wonderful little girl. You are loving and kind, you are so willing and eager to take care of people and over that sentiment is a sense that you love everyone deeply. I see that, I see that these feelings are more complex than you can fully articulate. I see that you are so easily hurt when people tell you are not kind, but you are… don’t let those words close you off from doing that, it is where you find grace. You are human and that means that it is ok to learn from hardships. Fight that urge to tell all these people who have hurt you to fuck off,  even if it comes from some deeply embedded hurt… you are more gentle than that. I love you, be strong.