Random Thoughts From My Unhealed Mind

It’s been a quiet month. Writing has been a frustration. The only thing I have managed to jot down are the random thoughts that fly through my brain at the most inopportune times. Some are dark, some depressed or angry, and some are just desperate. What follows are things I never expected to share with anyone. But, then I realized, it’s possible that these thoughts are exactly what I needed to share. Because, maybe you have thoughts like this too.

I never have enough time to work through the pain. I stay stuck in the confusion of once being so loved, and now never being enough.

I can’t get you out of my head today. What you told me. What happened to you. I don’t know how to deal with it. I want to love you. I want to hate you for not telling me. I want…..something

My days are long. Or maybe my nights are just short. Either way, I work a lot, and sleep very little.

I hate that when I look at you I still see the man I loved. It would be so much gentler on my heart if I could see you for who you have become.

There is more than one kind of death. There is physical death. It is devastating, and sometimes sudden, and almost always tragic. But then there is death of love, death of belief, death of hope. Death is haunting no matter what capacity it is in.

God is an asshole, dependent on people’s pain. And you are his spitting image.

I used to love you. That feels so far away now. My heart is more robotic, and my head is more direct. But the facts are still the same. I used to love you.

He asked me why I’m so mean to myself. I told him “Because that is how you’ve taught me to be.”

Some days my heart just breaks under the weight of all the pain. You would think there would be nothing left to break, but there is.

Somebody love me. I feel unlovable. He taught me I was, and you can’t un-teach the broken, can you? Don’t they have to be put back together, and made whole again to be taught how to love? And, my shattered heart was broken into so many pieces that it turned to dust, and blew away in the storm that is my life.

I have to go back for the lost pieces of myself.

Losing ones shit accomplishes nothing. But, I feel better now.

All at once she remembered how to turn her emotions off, and become the bitch he had made her out to be.

My life is so different now, and I can’t seem to get it to stay still long enough to get a grip.

My mind is a mesh of thoughts that always want to implode.

When Mother’s Day Is Hard, I See You

Mother’s Day sucks. I know I can’t be the only one to feel this way. I’ve know many other people who feel the same. It’s painful and crushing, and can be so hard to get through.

I struggled to get pregnant. It was several years of thinking that it would never happen, and feeling that pain when Mother’s Day came around, and I wasn’t a mother. It was staying in my seat when they asked the mothers to stand up in church. It was going home, and crying instead of out to eat. It was gifts never gotten, and it was flowers never received.

After I did have my daughter it was several more years of trying to get pregnant again. When I finally did, I miscarried. After that I never got pregnant again. We tried. We tracked. We used fertility drugs. We prayed. We ate better, walked more, rested more. It never happened.

Then three years ago my doctor said that it was time to stop, and do a hysterectomy. He thought I had cancer. So I did it. I sealed my fate of ever carrying a baby again. Sadly it also played a part in pushing my marriage over the edge.

My ex husband hated Mother’s Day too. His mom died when he was 16. He hated going through the day without his Mom to see, and love on. I understood that. So he rarely celebrated Mother’s Day, and I didn’t protest.

This year will be my first Mother’s Day since my (step) son died. The last several years he has always asked me to come see him on Mother’s Day. I realized earlier today that this year he won’t be asking me. That this year there is only a crash site to go to. That I can’t talk to him, hug him, tell him that I love him.

I’ve been dreading this weekend for a while now. My daughter wants to go to church, and I will probably take her. But, I already know that the acknowledgement of Mothers is going to be hard for me. I know that not getting the text asking me to come see him will be hard for me.

I don’t really know how to deal with that. But, my daughter is looking forward to the day, so I will try to be happy for her. I adore her, and am so grateful to have her. But, having her in my life doesn’t stop the pain of not having my other children.

I wish I could write out a list of things you can do when Mother’s Day is hard. But really I have found that the only thing you can do is hibernate, and wait for it to be over.

So here is what I want to say. I see you, and I know you, and you will make it.

Dear one who doesn’t have their mom, I see you.

Dear one who no longer has their child/children, I know you.

Dear one who is in so much pain on this day, you will make it.

I see you.

I know you.

You will make it through.

Much love to you this weekend dear one.

Quiet Is How I Survive

Words are hard to find these days

I’ve been more quiet lately.

A friend tells me I seem tired all the time.

I am.

Another friend tells me I seem off

I am.

I spent the weekend at parties and it sucked the energy right out of me.

People wanted to talk. They had questions

So many people wanted to know how I’m doing…really.

There are no words. I crave the quiet. I walk with headphones in because I want to drown out the world.

I lay on my couch with the sound of every electronic muted as I work.

I cant handle the words that people say. And I can’t find my own.

I need the quiet because it is so loud in my mind. The words aren’t lacking there. They swirl around and beat me up. They remind me of the things I want to forget. They bring out the pain that I keep locked deep.

Keeping life quiet feels like control. I like to have everything around me controlled. Chaos doesn’t settle well with me. I plan everything I can, including space for spur of the moment things. I do this, because I want just one thing to be controlled by me in my life.

I go on play dates, and coffee dates, and to birthday parties, and family dinners and appointments. I do this because connection is essential. But it drains me.

It’s hard work for me to be around people and chaos and loud spaces. When I become overly drained the words stop. I can’t boot back up if my system doesn’t get some time to shut down.

I’m not lazy. Quiet doesn’t mean I don’t do things. I just take time to do them in silence when I can. And if I don’t get that time I become very…ummm…..unpleasant to be around.

But lately the quiet is a safe haven. It is refreshing and restorative. And it never lasts long enough.

I haven’t been sleeping much. It has provided me with extra time to think. But it’s also time to just be in the quiet.

Anxiety tries to overtake me, and I push back. But, it’s never far away.

I have been walking almost everyday. It gives me space to breathe, and be quiet.

I journal, but the words are random, and weak.

Quiet is how I survive.

I Changed My Life : You Can Too

As a married woman I took my husband’s opinion very seriously. I didn’t follow everything he wanted but I did try to look appealing, and pleasing to him. I often had red hair, wore dresses and skirts, started using more makeup, and swapped out my black clothes for color. I didn’t mind this most of the time. I enjoyed doing things that seemed to make me more attractive to him.

After our divorce I wanted to feel more attractive to myself. I got bangs- and it looks fierce. I dyed my hair black with added shades of purple and blue. I learned new ways to wear my make up. And I reverted back to a black and gray wardrobe, wearing mostly skinny jeans, t-shirts, and leather jackets. I started to feel comfortable in my own skin again.

There were other things too. I stopped spending my nights watching TV-it was his way of ignoring me. I started working harder. It wasn’t that I didn’t work hard before, but what was once a list of hobbies became my source of income. I have to support my daughter, and myself. I am determined to do it my way. To stay home with my daughter, as I have always done. In the last three years I have ran five businesses, and taken on some odd jobs like being a nanny and painting a house. Best of all, some of those jobs have been lifelong hopes made into reality.

I have also been able to minimize the amount of stuff in my home. My daughter has not enjoyed this part of the changes as much. But, I find so much freedom in it. I grew up in a full house. I have many siblings, and that means we had a lot of stuff. Over 14 years of marriage, we had accumulated a lot too. So when I really started to embrace minimalism it was a sigh of relief after years of finding our worth or being overwhelmed with all we had consumed. I am no where near as free of stuff as I would like to be, but taking only an hour to clean my house a day, having space in my home, and knowing that we have what we need but are not overwhelmed are steps in the direction I want to be going.

There are other areas that I haven’t changed as much in-but I’m working on it. One of the main things I’m working on is not letting myself be used. I’m the oldest of 10 children. I was attempting to be a submissive, obedient wife. I was active in the church for decades. I did what I could to serve others but never stopped to ask myself if that is what was best for me. I spent years upon years of my life reminding myself to keep my mouth shut, and do what is asked of me.

Not all churches/families/marriages are like this, but mine was. I learned to always say yes. I learned to put others first all the time no matter what consequences it held for me or my kids. That is still the behavior that follows me and challenges me to this day. I still have a hard time saying no. I, sometimes, still jump when I’m told too, and especially if it comes from specific people. But, I am growing, and learning.

I’ve also seen changes in my parenting. I used to follow the lead of my husband, and before you misunderstand me, He loves his kids, and was a great dad. But I wasn’t the best mom I could be. I always put my husbands wants first, and didn’t give the attention I should have to my kids. I didn’t choose him over them intentionally, but it happened. I really came to recognize this after we split up. I started seeing my son more often, going to lunch and movies with him. I tried to make it to every single sporting event. I am still not sure why I didn’t do this before, other than I was so wrapped up in being a good wife that I forgot how to be a present mom. I had also become my daughter’s caretaker instead of her mom. I did what as needed for her challenging health, but I stopped having fun with her. This is something that being single has allowed me more time for, and as we have faced hard things I have made more time to rest and play with her.

When life changes you can choose to stay stuck in the same cycles or you can adjust and improve. Sometimes you do both in cycles. So today, I am again evaluating what needs to change, what things I have in my life because I want them, and what things are a result of someone else’s influence.

To keep moving forward, you have to keep evaluating. Spend time learning about yourself, what you want, and how to accomplish it. Spend time reading, writing, and letting yourself absorb what you take in. That is how you bring about change.

Keep Fighting : Thoughts On Depression, and Loss

Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

There is never a break in the heartache. Sometimes the pain just subsides. But it’s always there. Barely below the surface, and waiting for the protective layer that is starting to scab over to be ripped off again.

Words cut deep. They strike your soul, and rip it apart so that all the pain is exposed and bleeding red.

Life never lets me fully heal

Some people fare better than others. I am not one of those of those people. I catch my breath after a heart beating, and another one begins.

This life can be cruel to those with a fragile heart. And, while I am strong in every other area it is obvious that the inner me, the one that loves, and dreams, and never lets go, is the part of me destined to never be whole.

I never gave up. I saw who he was, and I still believed in him. Now, I see him being the man for her that he never was for me. I can’t keep thinking that he loved me when clearly he didn’t. He broke me. I loved alone, and I lose what I love. It always happens.

I’ve been trying to survive. Waiting, and hoping, but I never had a chance. I’m not okay, and I want to be broken. Being fixed just means I will be broken again. It always happens.

I lose what I love. My soul was intertwined with his, and now it is shattered.

I had a great love. I had a son. I knew who I was, and lived out my days serving in that capacity. Now my love has broken me, and is off healing another. My son is dead, and everything I thought I was has changed.

When your soul goes through the pain of being torn apart, and losing all you love, recovery is a long road. I’m not sure it every stops. You can keep walking it, and hope that in the end you get to somewhere beautiful. But, it is painful, and tragic, and the hardest thing you will ever do. You barely catch your breath, and you want the warmness of giving up. Sometimes laying wrapped in a blanket in the silence is appealing, and you just want to go there.

I am trying to figure out how to keep going. I have a daughter left that needs me, so I don’t have a choice. Becoming emotionally, and mentally strong is a choice. I could give up right where I’m at, and be comfortable in my pain. But, that doesn’t serve anyone well. So I keep going.

I get up in the morning, and I put on clothes. I eat breakfast. I take my meds. I clean my house, and make the meals, and work. I snuggle my daughter, and help her with school. I run my errands, and text my friends, and I do it all because this is living. I don’t always want to, but I always need to.

It may be just going through the motions, but that’s something. Going through the motions will get me to where I need to be. Not today, or this week, or even this month, but eventually.

I know, I will never be the same. Loss does that to a person. It changes them to the core. But, at least I’ll be a person. So many days I wish I could just be a robot. Get my stuff done. Not feel a thing, and have no issues speaking my truth, and sticking to my boundaries. But, that isn’t really living, now is it.

Depression, sadness, and an overwhelming need to be alone in the mess, it all hits me every day. It isn’t a stranger, it is close, and inside me. It is comfortable, and friendly, and it swallows me some days. I know it swallows you too. Find the little things that connect you to life. You will have battle scars. Things that you had to fight though to become who you want to be. You will hurt sometimes, and you will have to fight your way out of it again, and again, and again.

Keep fighting.

Loss Didn’t Make Me Strong: I’m Just A Determined Mother

I’m learning that I will never feel the same. I can never go back. I have lost so much, and no matter how much I have to live for, I will still never feel the same.

I’m more broken than I’ve ever been. But everyone says I’m so strong. I didn’t really get a choice. You don’t when you still have kids left to care for. You either abandon them, or step up no matter how hard it is. That’s the thing most people don’t realize. You don’t always become strong. Sometimes, you just don’t have a choice. You can fake it, you can push through, you can deal with it, but what you cannot always do is choose to be strong. Sometimes, it’s just what has to be done.

My girl still needs me, and will for a long time. So when my husband left, I couldn’t give up. When my home, and life, and work changed because of that, I couldn’t give up. When my body tried to fail me, I couldn’t give up. And when my son died, I still couldn’t give up.

In those moments, I didn’t have a choice. Sometimes, I think that it would be nice to get in bed, and stay there for days, feeling sad. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to have something to numb the emotional pain. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to pick up, and leave my life, and everything that reminds me of what I have lost.

But, I keep going for her. My little girl that doesn’t sleep, and takes things way to literally, and loves to create messes, and talk about Paris, and fashion, and dolls. I keep going because she deserves better than the life she has been dealt, and the only way she is going to have that is if I keep going.

Sometimes, as a parent, you put yourself aside, and you do everything you can to change things for your kids. I have had three children. Two are gone. I will do whatever it takes to give my one remaining baby a chance at the life she wants.

It’s not strength. It’s not being amazing, or powerful, or any of those empty words. I am crushed, and broken, and shattered. I am grieving, and hurting, and angry. But, I am a mother. It is just pure determination to give her more than this. Just because we have lived a life with so much loss does not mean that I will let her whole life be defined by that. That is who I am. No, not everyone responds this way. That’s okay too. I can admit that I occasionally get jealous of the people who can just fall apart.

But, I am determined to give my girl more than that. It’s not strength, it’s just pure determination that she will have more than brokenness in her life.

What Do I Know? (The scariest, most honest thing I have ever written)

I’m scared to share this with you. It’s more open than I usually am. But, last night I was watching videos on Instagram under the hashtag “what do I know” and I was compelled to write my own. I knew I had to share it. I knew I had to be brave enough to be open. I don’t know why, but I know I have to.

So here is what I know….Here is my truth….

I know that grief doesn’t have a timeline, and will never fully go away.

I know that I will fight for everyone but I won’t fight for myself.

I know that loving someone does not mean that they will love you back.

I know that loss changes who I am at my core.

I know that I can’t be my best self when I am surrounded by chaos.

I know that I avoid my feelings because I’m afraid of what they will do to me.

I know that most of my decisions are based out of love, or fear.

I know that I am addicted to coffee, nicotine, and words on pages.

I know that I make lists so I don’t forget things, but also that they are the story of my life, and I’m afraid my life will be forgotten without them.

I know that I give wise advice to others but struggle to speak truth to myself.

I know that I fail a lot, but I can’t ever seem to give up on anything.

I know that I am afraid that one day everyone will have left me.

I know that I am responsible, and hard working.

I know that I hate resting because it feels like giving up.

I know that my love will never heal him, but that I still hope it does.

I know that I believe I failed my son.

I know that I try so hard to contain how crazy I really feel.

I know that I will give up my dreams to make sure my daughter’s dreams happen.

I know that the color black makes me feel confident, and comfortable.

I know that taking pictures makes me feel better.

I know that I will never stop pushing myself to be better, because I am always hard on myself.

I know that books are comforting to me.

I know that I am strong, but that I don’t always want to be.

I know that I have very little physical contact with people, and that most of the time that feels safe to me. But sometimes it just makes me sad.

I know that I am afraid to let people get to close because I think that I will always get my heart shattered.

I know that I have lived through more tragedy than most of the people I have ever known.

I know that I am always completely exhausted in some or most areas of my life.

I know that most of the things I am good at are not a result of talent, but of hours upon hours of hard work, and self discipline.

I know that my life is not at all what I hoped or thought it would be.

I know that I have a very hard time letting go.

I know that I see value in almost everyone, but I still think that I am worthless.

I know this list freaks me out because I know that I have a huge fear of being open, vulnerable-of being seen.

I know what it feels like to hold the hand of someone who just died, and to kiss their cold face.

I know how to plan a funeral for a teenager.

I know how to bake amazing cakes, and breads, but that I also very often forget to eat.

I know how to use tools, change a tire, chop wood, and stamp leather, but also how to plan a party, cook a feast, clean a house, and apply makeup.

I know how to comfort a child, reason with the elderly, and defend my peers, but not how to stand up for myself.

I know how to throw a punch, and how to keep the peace, when to be quiet, and when to be blunt.

I know that I am still learning how to not let myself be used by people who claim to be friends but only take.

I know that I really know very little, and I am still learning to say I don’t know.