Passing on Peace

I have not written for a while. The holidays are a struggle for me. This year though I have found a new meaning to them. Watching everything through Porter's eyes has been such a beautiful experience. He opens me to knew ideas daily. Children are truly beautiful, pure souls. 

I struggle often with the fact that I feel like my childhood was taken away from me. Today I am just so happy to realize that I can live through my son. I can give him the joy and happiness in this life. That's my way of passing it forward. Of healing. 

My mind is not completely healed but I have a sense of peace that I have never known before. I am so grateful for it. 

My Rock

Sometimes I feel like I'm making no progress. As I slip into the comfort of my numbing out my life, I wonder how do I get out. My life is comfortable. I've already talked about my pain with silence. I don't think I've talked about the pain of showing up. 

It's so hard for me to show up. To be somewhere with more than 5 people that I am not close with. Sometimes it can be hard for me to be with just one. I honestly never feel like I fit. I feel like I'm an outsider even if I am completely welcome. I always wonder when they will find out I'm not one of them. I have never felt like I fit. Not in my childhood, not in my family, not in my career, not with my friends, even sometimes not at home.

I feel like everyone has to like me for some reason or another. Reality is they don't. I don't know if there are many people who really know the real me. I have very few close friends. I have always had trouble keeping friends. So I numb. Facebook is a easy way to make me think I fit. I could scroll for hours. I hate it. I watch shows to block the silence. I struggle starting conversations because I feel like a fake. 

I listened to a TED talk this week where the wonderful women said, "don't fake it until you make it, fake it until you BECOME it." I'm still working on becoming who I really am. Who I am supposed to be. Me in my element is at school. I love being a teacher. It is where I feel the most comfortable, successful, and loved. 

In the world I still struggle to make a place for myself. I'm working on not pushing people away and not bailing because I am afraid. I want friendship but I don't know how to make one. A trouble with many abused children. Thank you to those that go out of their way to care about me. I know you are there but my mind will push you away in fear of hurt. Maybe I'm just afraid I will end up caring about you deeply. That's the problem with me, I care with my whole heart and I give it freely. I just don't know how to fit in. I was never meant to "fit in." I was truly born to stand out. Now just to find those that stand out with me. 

My Fear of being a Mother

After I had Porter I felt like I was living the battle of my life. I was so overjoyed to have this little being in my life but fear quickly comes for the joy. Transitioning to motherhood didn't go smoothly for me like those moms on the Parenting magazines. For me it was surrounded by fear. He scares me. Loving someone so much scares me. What if I hurt him? What if I ruin him? What if he gets hurt too? I know I'm not and won't be a perfect parent but I'm terrified of not being enough. 

After I had him, I resented him (postpartum didn't help this feeling.) I hate even saying that but it's true. I resented my lack of sleep, my overwhelming love for him, but most of all the fear that came from loving him. I still have moments when I feel like I'm getting stared at as I chase my child down the hall at church. When he tries to climb out of the buckled in cart in Target. When he grabs the little newborn infant's face. I have moments when I think, I have to be the worst mom ever. My child drives me crazy and I only have the one. I know I'm not the only mom with these moments. I'm going to work harder on letting go and loving his "personality." 

I can handle a room full of children but my own child is a whole different story. Just acknowledging how I feel about him. How much it hurts to love him. I know that he's already growing up faster than he should. He drives me crazy but it's because I love him to the depth of who I am. It's true sometimes when I get him to bed at night it's great. I miss him though. There is nothing better than holding him when he lets me cuddle him and feeling him close to me. I didn't know you could love someone so much. My fear of being a mother comes from being afraid of loving him too much. It's already happened though. I wouldn't trade it for anything. 

My Guardian Angels

What a week this has been. I've really struggled this week. When I struggle I numb. This week the numbing of my choice was The Office. I binged watch most of the week. I had to avoid writing because that's when my difficult feelings come out. For some reason this week I was in an extremely triggered mood. 

Triggers are when you listen to a song and it reminds you exactly of a specific time you heard it. When you smell something baking and you get taken back to your grandmother's kitchen. I have triggers that make me draw into myself. Tonight it was Jaren telling me about finances. I immediately shut down. It was hard for me to say, Jaren this is how I feel like you said this. Luckily, I did and he talked it through with me. It's amazing how in one moment I can be brought to tears. 

One thought I have about this week's trigger was the time of year. My Grandpa Dotson died 16 years ago this week. My Grandpa Polson died 15 years ago next month. Veterans Day comes and it puts me into a slump. My Grandpa's were my heroes. I spent much of my childhood with them. They protected me and loved me when I felt lost. I remember often my Grandpa Dotson picking me up in the early morning so I could get away. I have so many memories from them. They both died too early. I am blessed to have two wonderful Grandmothers who haved loved me along the way. 

This week was hard. You'll know my hard weeks because I can't write. I don't want to face the hard things because I don't feel strong enough. 

I know I need to write. I know I need to face my shame and hurt to heal. I miss my grandfathers a lot. I have felt them here on this earth guiding me and protecting me many times. How blessed I am to have guardian angels with me as I heal every day. 

No One Knew/The Memories

To understand how I fight my battle you must know a piece of what I have gone through. My mom, dad, and step-mom never knew that I was abused until a few years ago. To bring it up in casual conversation isn't an easy thing to maneuver. It's scary telling people the truth because then it changes what people think of you whether you like it or not, or for good or bad. Many people's image of me has been change by coming into the open. 

I have finally felt freedom like never before. It's terrifying and yet so joyful. I know it's part of my healing process to write about my story and also help others along my way. 

I have a very skewed image of what my childhood was. I have very few memories of my childhood. Compared to the 'normalish' person that can pull up Christmas memories or memories of happy times, I can't. I have no way to recall memories I want and no control of pulling up memories I have no desire to remember. God gives abused children the most beautiful gift, the gift to blank out traumatic events. I always hated that I couldn't remember things until about a month ago when I realized how protected I have been. The most I can remember without severe skewing is my dad and step-mom, Jodi's, house. I remember it the most clear and also the happiness of my grandparent's house. Other than that I have glimpses of memories that come to me in time. 

Memories that come in moments when I am driving in the car not listening to the radio or moments when everything is quiet. In fact, while writing this, this is the first time I have ever figured out this is when memories come to me. I never have quiet. I always fill my car with music, books on tapes, or talks. In the morning I can't stand the quiet I have to watch food network shows to fill the blank air. While my husband drives I have to spend endless amounts of time scrolling through Facebook. I can't have silence because that's when the memories come back. I literally put up a wall against the fear and numb from silence. 

As I have learned from Brène Brown you can't numb the fear and anger without numbing the joy. Now finally realizing where I numb and specifically why I numb, I need to figure out how to change it. I must "lean in" to my fear to help me find my joy. 

The abuse in my past still lingers through the abuse I give myself today. The dreaded shame and thoughts of perfectionism that swarm me constantly. The pain of never being enough bombards me daily. I'm getting there though. I can recognize the triggers when they happen and I'm beginning to walk through them. 

This weekend is an example of a very specific trigger. I was already to leave for an activity. I had the diaper bag ready to go, the dozens of cookies I had carefully made. I had told Jaren I was ready. As he comes in from mowing the lawn he tells me that he's going to drop me off and get his hair cut, he would only be gone a few minutes. In my mind we were already late and there it was, I was triggered. I became so upset beyond reason. I didn't even know why I was mad. I literally had lost my thinking process to the point I couldn't handle him changing the plan. After my sweet husband let me "freak out" to put it kindly, for a good while. I finally became somewhat reasonable again. A symptom of abused people is  triggers, when a situation goes from a level 3 to a level "oh my gosh the house is burning down we are all gonna die!" He talked everything through with me. Not only was I abused as a child, I was also in an abusive relationship for a while.  His comment to leave me alone had triggered me back to situations with my ex. I was panicked that he didn't care about me, that he didn't love me, and that I wasn't good enough. Luckily we came to that conclusion and I was able to calm down. 

Talking through things is extremely important to me or I will just shut down. Does this happen this well every time I am triggered? No. Are we getting somewhere? Yes. I'm so lucky I have a patient husband. I'm also grateful I have a place to write to say what I'm feeling. To know I am not alone in this process. 

No one knew I was abused then, now everyone does. That's part of my fight to not hold my fear in anymore.

Watching Brene Brown's TED Talks

I know we all don't have a lot of time in our lives. This is more than worth your time. I was asked this week in group therapy to listen to two of Brene Brown's TED talks. I have been reading her book, Gifts of an Imperfectionist, and she has truly influenced me. Her ideas are so deep it takes me a while to wrap my head around them. I'm still not there. The idea of loving wholeheartedly and what that means really is beautiful. She also talks about shame in a way that shows that it's not just for abuse victims, addicts, and those struggling in life but all of us experience shame. 

I know forty minutes is a lot of time. Each video is 20 minutes. Take time while getting ready in the morning or driving to hear what she has to say. I have had several people tell me they feel like they are "stalking" me because they feel like what I have to say is important. I feel like it to. Even if I help one person understand something they need in life it was worth sharing. Brene Brown puts the words I want to share about shame in a humorous and daring way. I've watched these videos several times and even shared them with Jaren. I hope they have an impact on you like they have on me. 

Mindfulness

I felt compelled this morning to share about Mindfulness. This was presented to me months ago by my therapist. As I told her how I couldn't stop my brain from being in high gear all the time, she told me that I couldn't keep up with everything I needed to do and she had a solution. I then thought, she's got the perfect answer for me to get on top of it all. As I listened waiting for this perfect answer, she told me something I immediately thought was stupid. Mindfulness. Mindfulness is in my definition holding your body still and 'trying' (keyword here is trying) to clear your mind for some time.  How was this going to solve my problem? It made no sense to me but I figured I would give it a try. Mind you, you I am that person that can barely handle to keep their eyes close during a prayer. I would challenge myself as a kid to keep my eyes close the whole time and it felt like a life sentence.


She wanted me to sit for five minutes and try to clear my thoughts. If thoughts arose acknowledge them and push them away. I was supposed to do this every night before bed or any time I felt a panic attack arising (I'll talk about those more later.)


The first time I tried this I felt silly. After five minutes I did feel better though. Like my life wasn't so heavy. I would love to say I am a faithful mindfulness practicer, but I am not there, yet.


I then started teaching at a school that practices mindfulness daily. As teachers we practice it together and then we use in our classrooms. I practice mindfulness with my students three times a day. At first my students were not to thrilled about this concept. In the past two months I have seen a dramatic change in their view of mindfulness. In the morning they come in ready to tell anyone and everyone about their life since the last moment they have seen them. We get in Crew (which is a group circle) and I ask them to close their eyes and still their bodies for an amount of time (we are up to two minutes-go us!) When we are finished they are noticeably different. The room feels at peace and the students are ready to learn. Again I do this for math (I have a few different kids for math) and again the room becomes instantly calm. At the end of the day we are filled with all sorts of wiggles. We do our mindfulness and again our room is at peace. I can't explain the feeling but the students notice it every time.


Mindfulness is putting your crazy life on hold so that your brain can catch up to you. I thought I didn't have time in my day, when in fact I have more time because I can prioritize things. Mindfulness has become a blessing in my life and in my shame. My goal will be anytime I feel anxiety or shame to take a moment to still my life. I will let you know the effect this will have in my own life.


I really felt compelled to share this mindfulness story. I have seen a change in the adorable bodies of my third and fourth graders and myself. The thing I tell the students all the time is Mindful people are strong people. The ability to hold your body still and mind is not easy. In fact, most people probably can't do it. I'm still working on it. I'll leave you with the question I ask my students daily, are you a strong person?

My Fear of Writing

I have been in shock over the amount of support I have received. I am not a writer, yet. I have grammar issues left and right but I am grateful to those who have reached out to me. When I posted the picture of myself last night, I did it with a heavy-heart but a determined mind. Many people around me know of my abuse. I am very open about what had happened in my life. I didn't realize how much posting and feeling the warmth and love from those around me would affect me. Whether it was just to say they loved me or those who said they understand and are happy to know they are not alone. I felt a weight off my shoulders to tell those around me and open my heart for a change.


Writing is healing to me. Terrifying... Mainly because I want it to be perfect before I really put it out there. I need to have it said because it heals me to say what I feel.


Shaming only can happen if it is not said. Shame loves to hide. Especially among the perfectionists, the self-critical, and the lost. I don't want to be any of those things anymore. I am ready to be free of what others view me as. I want to open my  heart to what I am supposed to be.


Even now I can feel my face flushing with shame and fear to write how I really feel. Not protecting myself. What will people think? What will people say?


I truly am a happy person. I take the positive in most situations. I want it that way. I believe in the good around me. I know it is there. I see it in my son's smiling face. I see it in my husband's generosity. Now just to see the good in myself and not be ashamed of it.


"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
-Marrianne Williamson

Who wants to fight with me?

This is not a typical inspired blog. This, I really felt came from my heart. This isn't easy to write or say but it has to be said. Shame has taken control of my life for far too long and I won't let it any more. I was abused as a child for ten years. Yes, I pushed through it. Yes, I survived. Yes, I have even accomplished much. Does it make it all go away? No.
I didn't realize how much my abuse skewed my view of things. I did not realize that my past had any control of me until this year. I had my son and postpartum hit me hard. I struggled to comprehend why I felt so unbalanced and lost. Until I got help.
I started counseling in May. I went, said what I went through, and said, "But I'm doing fine." I had no idea what I was about to see. For months I still wore blinders. Not recognizing how daily I put myself through shame. I did not recognize all that I have accomplished, all that I have done, I continually felt horrible for not being enough. I never could feel content or happy. I couldn't stop from planning hourly our life. My husband was being driven crazy by me and I couldn't see the problem. I thought I was "normal." When he opened my eyes to my inability to relax I began to realize more about myself. Like a missing childhood, literally blank and black. An ability to always, I mean always, see the positive in others but never see it in myself. Plus many more. I began to realize I wasn't normal. Even more perhaps, I am "normal" but no one talks about these things.
I am a perfectionist in recovery, a struggling person on a mission. I need to tell my story and my recovery to know I am not alone. To fight the truth some might not see or just might not say.
I will fight against shame because I need to.
Who wants to fight with me?