On my mind:
Two books - one by Elizabeth Smart.
The other by Rebecca Musser.
One was kidnapped and taken against her will.
The other was given by her father to marry a man sixty years her senior.
Both were treated horribly by a man claiming to be a prophet and a religious man.
Elizabeth, it seems from her book, never believed what her abuser told her. She never bought into the idea that this is what God wanted for her, or what she deserved, or was her place in life.
Rebecca, at least for a while, totally believed that this was what God wanted for her, she totally believed Rulon Jeffs was a prophet, and that to be his wife was her place in life.
Both detested the men that raped and abused them, but only one believed that she was supposed to love and revere the man that hurt her.
In my mind, it is that belief that makes a huge difference in recovering.
If you believe it is your place in life to be used and abused; if you believe it is what God wants for you; if you believe you are supposed to take it, it is so much more difficult to recover.
If you believe you will be loved if you stay and take it, or you escape, or no matter what happens, the abuse is still just as awful, but it won't affect you for as long.
I have no idea if either of the women who wrote these books telling their stories would agree with me, but I do think that believing I deserved to be in the marriage I was in, and to be used and abused has made it harder to move past.
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Monday, December 22, 2014
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
A waterpark in January! (This is my kind of work.)
We took a business trip to Phoenix last week. Phoenix, AZ - and 70 degree weather. So, we decided to take a few extra days traveling, and we had a lot of fun.
We went hiking and fishing on the way down. Then we got to the hotel, set up our booth, played in the water park, went shopping, read (sitting by the pool in the sunshine). That evening we had a "social" for everyone at the trade show.
There was excellent food, a hot air balloon ride, a beer-toting-donkey, "old west" pictures, s'mores, a huge telescope (we looked at Jupiter and got a very short astronomy lesson), Native American dancers and drummers, donuts, and sitting around the campfire.
The trade show went great for us. I couldn't have written orders any faster - more than thirty new accounts in five hours. BJ's son came to help just as everything was slowing down, then we went out to dinner with BJ's son, daughter-in-law, and adorable 1 year old granddaughter. (They moved to AZ just recently.)
We drove on the Carefree Hwy, through NOTHING, visited the Hoover Dam and Lake Meade, visited BJ's sister, and finally had lunch with my brother before getting all the way home.
I could get used to playing in water parks and taking hot air balloon rides as part of my work.
(And now a photodump.)
We went hiking and fishing on the way down. Then we got to the hotel, set up our booth, played in the water park, went shopping, read (sitting by the pool in the sunshine). That evening we had a "social" for everyone at the trade show.
There was excellent food, a hot air balloon ride, a beer-toting-donkey, "old west" pictures, s'mores, a huge telescope (we looked at Jupiter and got a very short astronomy lesson), Native American dancers and drummers, donuts, and sitting around the campfire.
The trade show went great for us. I couldn't have written orders any faster - more than thirty new accounts in five hours. BJ's son came to help just as everything was slowing down, then we went out to dinner with BJ's son, daughter-in-law, and adorable 1 year old granddaughter. (They moved to AZ just recently.)
We drove on the Carefree Hwy, through NOTHING, visited the Hoover Dam and Lake Meade, visited BJ's sister, and finally had lunch with my brother before getting all the way home.
I could get used to playing in water parks and taking hot air balloon rides as part of my work.
(And now a photodump.)
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| It turns out, my camera has a function that I can do remote viewing with my iPhone. I took this picture - the camera was just sitting on a rock, I posed it, focused it, and TA DA! |
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| Nat was an awesome guide. I didn't notice this in the moment, but BJ pointed out that Nat spent more time guiding me than she did him. She put me on all the fish first, and him second. I have been out with guides many times with BJ... usually, it's just the opposite. They all put BJ on the fish first and make sure he catches the most fish, and I am an after thought. Although I feel like I should feel bad, I loved the time she took to teach me and help me. |
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| FLOWERS! In January. I needed that. |
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| Sun. Books. I needed that too. |
Hot air balloon ride. It was cool looking over the Scotsdale Valley.
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| S'mores! |
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| A quick selfie of us all before we got back on the road. (My brother just moved to Southern Utah to go to school. SUPER excited for the experience he is getting there, and I miss him. A lot.) |
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| Even the bathrooms are beautiful in a place like this. |
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| Us. On the river. With our boat. And huge red cliffs behind us. (This is one of my favorite places. I love it here.) |
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| These are the only fish pictures we took. My last fish of the day. |
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| BJ's last fish of the day. |
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| Macro lens = extra awesome fish picture. |
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| A waterpark in January. (Just enjoying the lazy river.) |
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Time for horses to teach me something new
I've been reading the book Nature in Horsemanship by Mark Rashid. (Thanks Mellen and Elliot! Merry Christmas to me!!) He has an entire chapter about the importance of protecting yourself. He talked about a woman who let her horse run her over, because she didn't want to make him mad at her.
I've never been run over by my horse... but... I have been called "fearless" when I didn't move out of his way while he was running at me. He stopped in front of me, and I wasn't hurt. But I was lucky.
I have made grand improvement from my first day on the horse. I was willing to sit on his back, but I didn't dare touch the reins, because I was afraid of hurting him. I didn't want to be bossy or controlling or tell him what to do. I now have no problem touching the reins or asking him to do some things (like not run me into a tree, or to climb a mountain with me on his back, etc.)
Sunny has taught me a lot. That horse has been the best therapist to me, and he has played a huge part in my recovery**. Besides all that he has taught me, he has taken me all over the mountains. There are very few trails that are within driving distance that we haven't been on and all over. We have done a lot together. And lately, I can tell we are stagnating. Reading the book, I can see where we (and by we, I mean me) are stuck. I'm still afraid of hurting him... so I haven't worked with him more.
Eventually, I want to adopt a Mustang. I want to gentle wild horses. I love watching people with their Mustangs, because I know the relationship they have to build with their horses. I know how hard it is to convince a horse to do things like crossing streams or climbing mountains or standing still. I want to do that, but I'm afraid.
I also recently wrote about how my fear of hurting BJ drives me. I definitely never want to hurt him AND I don't want to be motivated by fear.
Sunny taught me that it was okay to trust another being. And now, it's time for me to learn that it is okay to ask for... and to expect... and to want... and to need... from another being. I think Sunny (and BJ) will be great partners for these lessons, but I don't think they can teach me the way I want.
I'm lucky to be surrounded by equestrian centers. I live in a teeny tiny town in Utah, but there are at least four HUGE private arenas with trainers in every area of horsemanship you could want. There is also a public arena and trainers that will meet you there.
This morning, I called one of the local trainers. I've met him before, and I like his style. I can't afford him, but I can afford to be a working student at his place. I told them that I hoped to work with Mustangs one day, but I need experience. I also told them that I am terrified of hurting the horses, or doing something that would make them into bad horses somehow... and that is getting in the way of the relationship I want with my horse. They said they had classes that could help me...
I'm afraid. Even writing about this, my chest feels tight, my throat feels tight, and I might just want to climb under the desk and hide... and I'm excited.
**I was asked today if I had recovered from PTSD. I don't think you can ever recover completely, because the trauma and the abuse are a part of me. I can't go back to when it had never happened. I can't get back the innocence. I can't go back to before I believed all of the shitty stuff about myself because of the things abusers said and did. I think it will always be a part of me. AND I can also keep moving forward, learning new things, and dealing with the old stuff in new ways.
I've never been run over by my horse... but... I have been called "fearless" when I didn't move out of his way while he was running at me. He stopped in front of me, and I wasn't hurt. But I was lucky.
I have made grand improvement from my first day on the horse. I was willing to sit on his back, but I didn't dare touch the reins, because I was afraid of hurting him. I didn't want to be bossy or controlling or tell him what to do. I now have no problem touching the reins or asking him to do some things (like not run me into a tree, or to climb a mountain with me on his back, etc.)
Sunny has taught me a lot. That horse has been the best therapist to me, and he has played a huge part in my recovery**. Besides all that he has taught me, he has taken me all over the mountains. There are very few trails that are within driving distance that we haven't been on and all over. We have done a lot together. And lately, I can tell we are stagnating. Reading the book, I can see where we (and by we, I mean me) are stuck. I'm still afraid of hurting him... so I haven't worked with him more.
Eventually, I want to adopt a Mustang. I want to gentle wild horses. I love watching people with their Mustangs, because I know the relationship they have to build with their horses. I know how hard it is to convince a horse to do things like crossing streams or climbing mountains or standing still. I want to do that, but I'm afraid.
I also recently wrote about how my fear of hurting BJ drives me. I definitely never want to hurt him AND I don't want to be motivated by fear.
Sunny taught me that it was okay to trust another being. And now, it's time for me to learn that it is okay to ask for... and to expect... and to want... and to need... from another being. I think Sunny (and BJ) will be great partners for these lessons, but I don't think they can teach me the way I want.
I'm lucky to be surrounded by equestrian centers. I live in a teeny tiny town in Utah, but there are at least four HUGE private arenas with trainers in every area of horsemanship you could want. There is also a public arena and trainers that will meet you there.
This morning, I called one of the local trainers. I've met him before, and I like his style. I can't afford him, but I can afford to be a working student at his place. I told them that I hoped to work with Mustangs one day, but I need experience. I also told them that I am terrified of hurting the horses, or doing something that would make them into bad horses somehow... and that is getting in the way of the relationship I want with my horse. They said they had classes that could help me...
I'm afraid. Even writing about this, my chest feels tight, my throat feels tight, and I might just want to climb under the desk and hide... and I'm excited.
**I was asked today if I had recovered from PTSD. I don't think you can ever recover completely, because the trauma and the abuse are a part of me. I can't go back to when it had never happened. I can't get back the innocence. I can't go back to before I believed all of the shitty stuff about myself because of the things abusers said and did. I think it will always be a part of me. AND I can also keep moving forward, learning new things, and dealing with the old stuff in new ways.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Books! (A Q&A)
Questions about books? I would LOVE to answer all the questions you never knew you had (and most likely never actually had) about my reading habits.
(I got the questions from Jessica at Faith Permeating Life. Thanks Jessica!)
Favorite book cover?
I can't say that I have one. I really don't pay attention to the covers... There's that old saying, and I've heard it way too many times.
What are you reading right now?
I'm listening to No Ordinary Time: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt; The Homefront in WWII by Doris Kearns Goodwin. Fascinating to learn about the history of the country at that time. I have read a lot of stuff about the Jewish people in Europe, and a few books about the Japanese internment camps, but nothing about the Roosevelt's or the rest of this country at that time.
On my Kindle, I'm reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. (Mind you - I have been reading this for six months. I love the story, and get slowed down by the French history. I enjoy the history, it just takes a lot longer for me to read it.)
I am also reading The Man Who Listens to Horses by Monty Roberts. When I want to mess with my brain, I'm reading The Hole in our Gospel by Richard Stearns. (I love what it says. It basically says that the gospel of Christ is all about compassion, empathy and serving and taking care of others. I have long felt that anyone NOT willing to take care of those less fortunate can't claim to be followers of Christ's teachings, but... I also feel guilty that I have food to eat and I drive a car and there are people who don't have either... so it messes with my brain, because I feel guilt that I have so much and live such an amazing life. Anyway, his story is interesting. He went from being a big corporate CEO to running a Christian non-profit that helps bring food and clean water to people in third world countries.)
Do you have any idea what you'll read when you're done with that?
Not a clue...
I'll probably get back to Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell, but other than that, who knows until I am reading it?
What five books have you always wanted to read but haven't got round to?
Shy Boy by Monty Roberts
Maybe one of Dan Brown's books.
And there's currently 174 books on my Goodreads that I want to read, but haven't gotten to yet.
What magazines do you have in your bathroom/lounge right now?
Trout magazine.
What's the worst book you've ever read?
I can't think of anything right now.
What book seemed really popular but you didn't like it?
Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Ugh. Generalizations that didn't fit me, or any of my relationships, but claimed to be about everyone. I did not like it AT ALL.
What's the one book you always recommend to just about anyone?
There isn't a book I could recommend to everyone... but there are a few books that I found to be SUPER helpful in my own life journey.
The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
The Four Agreements and The Mastery of Love and The Voice of Knowledge by don Miguel Ruiz
What to do when you don't know what to do: Common Horse Sense by Wyatt Webb
What are your three favorite poems?
I'm not a big poem person... I don't have any favorites.
Where do you usually get your books?
Amazon.
When you were little, did you have any particular reading habits?
Devour books. I would read until 2 or 3 in the morning... my parents once told me to, "Just go watch TV or something," because I asked for more books. I loved to read. My favorites were historical fiction.
What's the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was too good to put down?
Me Before You by JoJo Mayes
Have you ever "faked" reading a book?
Yeah. When I was in fifth grade, there was a lot of reading, and I couldn't get through the required books (and my fun books) fast enough. I read most of all of the books, but there were a couple that I didn't finish... My mom read the end and helped me with the assignments.
Have you ever bought a book just because you liked the cover?
Not that I can think of.
What was your favorite book when you were a child?
Calico Captive, Babysitter's Club, Boxcar Children
What book changed your life?
Too many to name them all, but Tao of Equus by Linda Kohanov really helped me figure myself out. It made sense of my PTSD. It made dissociation, seizures, flashbacks, and my fears seem more natural and healthy. It also helped me find other books that helped (Wyatt Webb's books, Waking the Tiger by Peter Levine, Mark Rashid's books, etc.) That book opened up a whole new world for me, and I am forever grateful for the things she taught me and the path that book started me on.
What is your favorite passage from a book?
I don't have a favorite. Most recently, the exchange between the Bishop and Jean Valjean in Les Mis. Or the exchange between the two main characters in Me Before You, when she realizes she's in love with him... and she realizes how long she has been in love with him... I liked a lot of things in Confessions of a Molly Mormon. But even those are just the ones currently in my memory.
Who are your top five favorite authors?
Wyatt Webb
J.K. Rowling
Lois Lowry
Susan Richards
Brene Brown
John Gierach
What books are you an "evangelist" for?
None. I'm not an evangelist for anything. Evangelism seems egotistical to me.
What are your favorite books by a first-time author?
Let's Pretend this Never Happened by Jenny Lawson
Chosen by a Horse by Susan Richards
Dancing with Crazy by Emily Pearson
What is your favorite classic book?
I haven't read Gone with the Wind in a million years, but I loved it back then.
I enjoyed the twisted humor of Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.
Five other notable mentions?
The Worlds of Lois Lowry: (The Giver, Gathering Blue, The Messenger) and now Son
The Elephant Whisperer: My Life with the Herd in the Wilds of Africa by Lawrence Anthony
Fuck it: The Ultimate Spiritual Way by John C. Parkin
The Horse Boy: A Father's Quest to Heal his Son by Rupert Isaacson
What do you think about any of the books mentioned here? If you answer the Q&A, leave a link in comments!
(I got the questions from Jessica at Faith Permeating Life. Thanks Jessica!)
Favorite book cover?
I can't say that I have one. I really don't pay attention to the covers... There's that old saying, and I've heard it way too many times.
What are you reading right now?
I'm listening to No Ordinary Time: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt; The Homefront in WWII by Doris Kearns Goodwin. Fascinating to learn about the history of the country at that time. I have read a lot of stuff about the Jewish people in Europe, and a few books about the Japanese internment camps, but nothing about the Roosevelt's or the rest of this country at that time.
On my Kindle, I'm reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. (Mind you - I have been reading this for six months. I love the story, and get slowed down by the French history. I enjoy the history, it just takes a lot longer for me to read it.)
I am also reading The Man Who Listens to Horses by Monty Roberts. When I want to mess with my brain, I'm reading The Hole in our Gospel by Richard Stearns. (I love what it says. It basically says that the gospel of Christ is all about compassion, empathy and serving and taking care of others. I have long felt that anyone NOT willing to take care of those less fortunate can't claim to be followers of Christ's teachings, but... I also feel guilty that I have food to eat and I drive a car and there are people who don't have either... so it messes with my brain, because I feel guilt that I have so much and live such an amazing life. Anyway, his story is interesting. He went from being a big corporate CEO to running a Christian non-profit that helps bring food and clean water to people in third world countries.)
Do you have any idea what you'll read when you're done with that?
Not a clue...
I'll probably get back to Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell, but other than that, who knows until I am reading it?
What five books have you always wanted to read but haven't got round to?
Shy Boy by Monty Roberts
Maybe one of Dan Brown's books.
And there's currently 174 books on my Goodreads that I want to read, but haven't gotten to yet.
What magazines do you have in your bathroom/lounge right now?
Trout magazine.
What's the worst book you've ever read?
I can't think of anything right now.
What book seemed really popular but you didn't like it?
Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Ugh. Generalizations that didn't fit me, or any of my relationships, but claimed to be about everyone. I did not like it AT ALL.
What's the one book you always recommend to just about anyone?
There isn't a book I could recommend to everyone... but there are a few books that I found to be SUPER helpful in my own life journey.
The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
The Four Agreements and The Mastery of Love and The Voice of Knowledge by don Miguel Ruiz
What to do when you don't know what to do: Common Horse Sense by Wyatt Webb
What are your three favorite poems?
I'm not a big poem person... I don't have any favorites.
Where do you usually get your books?
Amazon.
When you were little, did you have any particular reading habits?
Devour books. I would read until 2 or 3 in the morning... my parents once told me to, "Just go watch TV or something," because I asked for more books. I loved to read. My favorites were historical fiction.
What's the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was too good to put down?
Me Before You by JoJo Mayes
Have you ever "faked" reading a book?
Yeah. When I was in fifth grade, there was a lot of reading, and I couldn't get through the required books (and my fun books) fast enough. I read most of all of the books, but there were a couple that I didn't finish... My mom read the end and helped me with the assignments.
Have you ever bought a book just because you liked the cover?
Not that I can think of.
What was your favorite book when you were a child?
Calico Captive, Babysitter's Club, Boxcar Children
What book changed your life?
Too many to name them all, but Tao of Equus by Linda Kohanov really helped me figure myself out. It made sense of my PTSD. It made dissociation, seizures, flashbacks, and my fears seem more natural and healthy. It also helped me find other books that helped (Wyatt Webb's books, Waking the Tiger by Peter Levine, Mark Rashid's books, etc.) That book opened up a whole new world for me, and I am forever grateful for the things she taught me and the path that book started me on.
What is your favorite passage from a book?
I don't have a favorite. Most recently, the exchange between the Bishop and Jean Valjean in Les Mis. Or the exchange between the two main characters in Me Before You, when she realizes she's in love with him... and she realizes how long she has been in love with him... I liked a lot of things in Confessions of a Molly Mormon. But even those are just the ones currently in my memory.
Who are your top five favorite authors?
Wyatt Webb
J.K. Rowling
Lois Lowry
Susan Richards
Brene Brown
John Gierach
What books are you an "evangelist" for?
None. I'm not an evangelist for anything. Evangelism seems egotistical to me.
What are your favorite books by a first-time author?
Let's Pretend this Never Happened by Jenny Lawson
Chosen by a Horse by Susan Richards
Dancing with Crazy by Emily Pearson
What is your favorite classic book?
I haven't read Gone with the Wind in a million years, but I loved it back then.
I enjoyed the twisted humor of Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.
Five other notable mentions?
The Worlds of Lois Lowry: (The Giver, Gathering Blue, The Messenger) and now Son
The Elephant Whisperer: My Life with the Herd in the Wilds of Africa by Lawrence Anthony
Fuck it: The Ultimate Spiritual Way by John C. Parkin
The Horse Boy: A Father's Quest to Heal his Son by Rupert Isaacson
What do you think about any of the books mentioned here? If you answer the Q&A, leave a link in comments!
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Merry Day After
My "Tuesday with presents" was even better than I could have imagined.
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| My Christmas tree. With presents under the tree. (They almost all fit.) |
I also love watching by family open presents. Jeff gets so excited. I love watching Dann and my mom watch everyone else. I love the looks when someone opens a gift that is perfect. I also love the looks when someone opens a gift that isn't quite perfect, but they try to pretend like it was. I just love seeing everyone just being.
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| My brother built a fort of presents on top of me. There were more down around my feet. |
BJ and I went to see Les Miserables together. I wanted to see the movie with him. I wanted to experience that story with him, because I wanted to talk about it all with him after. When we went to the play, he had a hard time following the story. In the movie, you can see their faces and understand their emotions better. I wanted to watch him watch the movie.
The movie was amazing. I've seen the student version of the play countless times. We went to see the professional version last year. I've listened to the CD a million times and played the music on the piano and in various orchestras. I forgot that I know the music and the story by heart. The actors were so incredible, I felt like I was hearing it all for the first time.
I love seeing movies with him, because of the way he draws parallels to his own life. He learns things everywhere he goes, and he listens when I talk about the things I thought. We sat and talked and cried after the movie. Then he went to spend more time with his kids and grandkids, and I went to visit my grandparents.
We all met back at my parents, and hung out for a little bit, and then he and I came home to open our presents to each other. We had decided we wanted to end the day together... I gave him his presents. He gave me a camera. A really nice one with two different lenses and a ton of camera-y functions. (I don't know the words for everything yet, and I definitely don't know how to use them, but I'm excited.)
He said he's been thinking about this gift for years. He appreciated my eye... the things I see, and he wanted to give me an even better way to capture what I see. I cried. I took out all the pieces: the lenses, the lensehood, the flash, the tripod, the carrying case for it all, the memory card, even the battery and charger, and cried with every piece.
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| My Christmas tree. After opening presents. It's in there somewhere, I swear. |
I have never asked for a camera. I love taking pictures. I love sharing the things that I see. I feel like there's a piece of me in every picture I take. We have several of the pictures I've taken hanging on our walls. Horses. Fishing. Mountains. Skies. They aren't bad, but I feel like I was just handed a tool that will make the things I see even more capturable (yeah, I just made that word up). He saw something I wanted, but I didn't even know I wanted it. That feels... good.
I feel SO loved. Not just by BJ. But by my parents and siblings (and their spouses). And Dann. And grandparents. And aunts and uncles and cousins. Sometimes, feeling loved is such a surprise, I feel overwhelmed. I still don't quite know how to handle it.
So, Merry Day After Christmas. Thank you for loving me, and for making the day even better than "just any other Tuesday, except with presents".
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
My magnificently Boring Life
I was talking to a friend a couple weeks ago... She asked me how I was doing... what was new... all the usual questions.
She and I have both been through HELL. Abuse. (and a lot of it). PTSD. Depression. Craziness. And we both felt like we would never be 'normal'.
When she asked me all the usual questions, I laughed/cried and said, "I'm so normal and boring. It's awesome!"
And then WE laughed/cried as I told her about my very boring (and wonderful) life:
I woke up and ate breakfast with BJ. We talked about horses. We want to train them to drag a tree behind them, so we can cut down our own Christmas tree this year and have the horses drag it out. I don't know how to train my horse to drag a tree behind him. We tried to come up with a plan that would be helpful AND not result in injury of us or the horses.
I showered and got ready for the day. He went to work.
I work from home, so it's pretty easy going. I have two co-workers that come in for a couple hours every week. They came and we worked and chatted.
I fed the horses, and ate my lunch in the pasture with them.
I replied to a few personal emails and played on Facebook, then I went back to work. I shipped 108 pounds of ties that day. That's a lot of orders!
Dann called and we talked. (Like I said before, we're friends.)
BJ came home and we made dinner together. We talked about our day. His work. My work. The conversations he had with Jim at work. (Jim likes to talk about the same things that BJ likes to talk about. They get each other thinking.)
BJ made banana bread, and then we watched TV (Gold Rush. I hope Parker makes it big!) My friend called. BJ tied flies (for fly fishing) while I talked to her, and then we read. Together, but not together... Sitting in the same room reading our own books. I love reading my own book, but still sitting together and sharing what we're reading. Sometimes I only read one paragraph before we spend the next few hours talking about stuff.
She and I have both been through HELL. Abuse. (and a lot of it). PTSD. Depression. Craziness. And we both felt like we would never be 'normal'.
When she asked me all the usual questions, I laughed/cried and said, "I'm so normal and boring. It's awesome!"
And then WE laughed/cried as I told her about my very boring (and wonderful) life:
I woke up and ate breakfast with BJ. We talked about horses. We want to train them to drag a tree behind them, so we can cut down our own Christmas tree this year and have the horses drag it out. I don't know how to train my horse to drag a tree behind him. We tried to come up with a plan that would be helpful AND not result in injury of us or the horses.
I showered and got ready for the day. He went to work.
I work from home, so it's pretty easy going. I have two co-workers that come in for a couple hours every week. They came and we worked and chatted.
I fed the horses, and ate my lunch in the pasture with them.
I replied to a few personal emails and played on Facebook, then I went back to work. I shipped 108 pounds of ties that day. That's a lot of orders!
Dann called and we talked. (Like I said before, we're friends.)
BJ came home and we made dinner together. We talked about our day. His work. My work. The conversations he had with Jim at work. (Jim likes to talk about the same things that BJ likes to talk about. They get each other thinking.)
BJ made banana bread, and then we watched TV (Gold Rush. I hope Parker makes it big!) My friend called. BJ tied flies (for fly fishing) while I talked to her, and then we read. Together, but not together... Sitting in the same room reading our own books. I love reading my own book, but still sitting together and sharing what we're reading. Sometimes I only read one paragraph before we spend the next few hours talking about stuff.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
I read a book: Coming Home: A Mormon's Return to Faith
I just finished the book Coming Home: A Mormon's Return to Faith
.
The topic interested me. How does one leave the LDS church, and then go back fifteen years later?
WHY would someone go back?
I almost stopped reading after the first chapter, because it wasn't anything that I hadn't heard at church. The reasons she gave for leaving the church were the stereotypical reasons for leaving... Offended. Angry. Hurt. Lost the spirit. Stopped doing what she was supposed to do.
That's not why I left, and I've talked to a lot of people who have left. Those aren't the reasons they left. John Dehlin has done a lot of research on why people question the LDS church, and that's not what he has found.
She said she was writing the book to those who are questioning the church... Those that have left or are struggling... But if that is her audience, then why did she use phrases like "anti-mormon rhetoric"? Language like that reinforces harmful stereotypes about those that have left. It reinforces members ability to dismiss the "apostates". It definitely doesn't feel helpful to those that are questioning and trying to reconcile themselves with the religion.
I would say her real target audience is LDS people who don't want to know why people leave, who don't want to understand anything outside of their world. It is a story of hope for those that cannot accept their loved ones' new beliefs. As one who has left, others keeping that "hope" would be insanely frustrating.
If my family had refused to listen to ME and accept ME, I'm not sure what kind of relationship I would have with them. It definitely wouldn't be as good as it is now. It would be strained at best, but more likely non-existent. I had to fight too hard to learn to love and accept myself. Having family members also fighting against me wouldn't have worked. In order to survive, I would have had to limit or completely cut off family interactions.
Her experiences were the opposite of mine. She left the church, struggled and struggled and struggled, and then came back and everything was happy. I struggled and struggled and struggled to make church fit me. I fought, I cried, I nearly died, and then I finally left. Everything got better. Almost overnight the world became bright. I didn't feel like I lost God. I felt like I followed God and was lead out. I know that wasn't her experience, so she couldn't write about it... I just want my experience out there too. Leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself.
The stereotypical "TBM" might appreciate this book, but I wouldn't recommend it to them. I wouldn't want people reading this book, and then not listening to their loved ones. This is one woman's story. Her story is important, but it is my fear that people will try to make her story universal. (Similar to what happened with the Josh Weed blog not too long ago.)
There is nothing wrong with going back to the church after leaving it. There is nothing wrong with leaving it. Or staying in it. Or never joining it. I wish that had been more the message of the book... which is to say if I ever write a book, that will be MY message.
. The topic interested me. How does one leave the LDS church, and then go back fifteen years later?
WHY would someone go back?
I almost stopped reading after the first chapter, because it wasn't anything that I hadn't heard at church. The reasons she gave for leaving the church were the stereotypical reasons for leaving... Offended. Angry. Hurt. Lost the spirit. Stopped doing what she was supposed to do.
That's not why I left, and I've talked to a lot of people who have left. Those aren't the reasons they left. John Dehlin has done a lot of research on why people question the LDS church, and that's not what he has found.
She said she was writing the book to those who are questioning the church... Those that have left or are struggling... But if that is her audience, then why did she use phrases like "anti-mormon rhetoric"? Language like that reinforces harmful stereotypes about those that have left. It reinforces members ability to dismiss the "apostates". It definitely doesn't feel helpful to those that are questioning and trying to reconcile themselves with the religion.
I would say her real target audience is LDS people who don't want to know why people leave, who don't want to understand anything outside of their world. It is a story of hope for those that cannot accept their loved ones' new beliefs. As one who has left, others keeping that "hope" would be insanely frustrating.
If my family had refused to listen to ME and accept ME, I'm not sure what kind of relationship I would have with them. It definitely wouldn't be as good as it is now. It would be strained at best, but more likely non-existent. I had to fight too hard to learn to love and accept myself. Having family members also fighting against me wouldn't have worked. In order to survive, I would have had to limit or completely cut off family interactions.
Her experiences were the opposite of mine. She left the church, struggled and struggled and struggled, and then came back and everything was happy. I struggled and struggled and struggled to make church fit me. I fought, I cried, I nearly died, and then I finally left. Everything got better. Almost overnight the world became bright. I didn't feel like I lost God. I felt like I followed God and was lead out. I know that wasn't her experience, so she couldn't write about it... I just want my experience out there too. Leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself.
The stereotypical "TBM" might appreciate this book, but I wouldn't recommend it to them. I wouldn't want people reading this book, and then not listening to their loved ones. This is one woman's story. Her story is important, but it is my fear that people will try to make her story universal. (Similar to what happened with the Josh Weed blog not too long ago.)
There is nothing wrong with going back to the church after leaving it. There is nothing wrong with leaving it. Or staying in it. Or never joining it. I wish that had been more the message of the book... which is to say if I ever write a book, that will be MY message.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Loaded Words: Forgiveness
So, I'm writing about it.
Bad news: I'm a little bit all over the place in my writing.
Good news: I like what I wrote, so I'm leaving all of it...
There was a time, I would hear the words, "Forgive them," and I would hear, "Take their abuse. Let them hurt you." So I'd do that... Only the peace I was hoping for, never came. Instead I only felt used and abused and crazy.
I chose to forget the word "forgive", because it had too much extra baggage associated with it. And then, in January, a friend of mine posted this on facebook.
"Lately I hear of so many people ignoring or being rude to their own family members or close friends because of choices that person has made. It's so sad to me that in our society, people are so selfish and unforgiving and judgmental. They hold grudges and don't talk to siblings, parents, cousins, friends, etc. because they are sad, mad, angry, or whatever toward that person. For some reason, they feel like they are entitled to hold a grudge because they are choosing to do so. I wish people would learn to take the advice "Be QUICK to forgive" seriously."
I wrote this in my journal that night:
"For me, two things happened at once.
1. I love it. I agree wholeheartedly. YES. Stop holding grudges. Stop letting the pain of unmet expectations stop you from having the relationships you want. Love people as they are, and not just when they do what you want. It's not love if you only love them when they fit your expectations. That's just manipulation. I hope she reads what she wrote... I hope she gets it...
2. I hate it. "Be quick to forgive" was used over and over and over to get me to go back to very harmful situations. He raped me. He beat me. He assaulted me. He called me names. He said things that made me go crazy. He tried to manipulate me. He pushed every boundary until I thought I would rather die than to have to be around him. But none of that mattered, because it was MY job to forgive. My job to love him and give him another chance... My job to accept the apologies over and over and over, even when he kept on hurting me...
In my world, "Why can't you just forgive?" meant, "You have no right to choose what you want.You have to spend time with him, you have to give him what he wants, you have to... That is what God wants you to do."
A mere mention of the word forgiveness, and I felt incredible guilt, because I was angry and hurt when he hurt me. I'd start beating myself up in my head. And in the past, I'd vow to be better at taking the crap. To not care if he hurt me, but instead to be nicer. Kinder. Quieter.
Forgiveness meant to forget myself.
I recognize that she was not talking to victims of abuse. I recognize that most people at church would never tell a person to stay in an abusive relationship. (I say most, because I know of a few bishops and members who WOULD and they DID.) I recognize that who she was talking to might just benefit from some awareness that parents getting divorced or someone leaving the church isn't worth losing family over.
I recognize that what I think and feel about the word forgiveness isn't what the word is intended to mean. It's a "Loaded Word". Because of my experiences and the beliefs I formed about myself and those experiences, forgiveness has taken on a meaning that I don't like.
I don't like that when someone talks about forgiveness, I feel anger and pain and guilt. I feel violated. I don't like that THAT is my internal reaction. I don't like that what I hear is, "Forget yourself completely and only think of what THEY want." I would like the word to come to mean something else to me.
I shared my thoughts with BJ, and he gave me this quote:
"Forgiveness is love's toughest work, and love's biggest risk. If you twist it into something it was never meant to be, it can make you a doormat or an insufferable manipulator."
I'm very aware of what forgiveness is NOT meant to be: It's not meant to make me forget myself. It's not meant to make me sacrifice ME, so that other people don't have to make sacrifices. It is not meant to keep me in situations that are harmful, or even keep me in places that I don't want to be in.
Forgiveness is not supposed to be used to manipulate and abuse... What IS forgiveness meant to be?"
I haven't thought about it much since then... Until the question, "What does forgiveness mean to you?"
The only answer I could come up with that really meant something to me was, "Making peace with the stuff that hurts me." It's an individual thing. There are things that really hurt me, but they won't bother someone else. There are things that don't even hit my radar, but are life shattering to someone else.
Examples:
Husband having an affair, not a big deal to me. End the marriage, go our separate ways. Easy.
Bishop telling me it was my fault that he had an affair, and I couldn't end the marriage but instead had to work harder to serve my husband and make him happy, HUGE deal. I'm still working to make peace with that. (I read in a book once that you'll know you've forgiven when you no longer have an emotional reaction when you hear the person's name, or in this case when I am reminded of the situation. I still feel anger and disgust at the bishop for saying that, and anger and disgust at myself for believing him and trying to do what he said. Why didn't I just say, "Fuck you. You're an idiot!" and walk away? Eventually, I'll make peace with that.)
ME being raped... painful, and I worked through it, I dealt with it. I'm at peace with it. A friend being raped... I don't know how to make peace with that. I feel anger at their abusers that I have never felt towards my own. (Which in some ways has been healing. Getting really angry and yelling, swearing, and crying, at what happened to them has somehow helped me make peace and move past my own stuff. In that, I guess I am grateful for the things they went through and their willingness to share their painful journeys with me.)
In the book Forgive for Good, he says,
"there are really only two steps in the process: grieving and letting go. Grieving, after you have been wronged, means letting yourself feel the anger, hurt, and trauma in all its original pain—but not indefinitely. After about two years, most people have had plenty of time to process, then they're ready to move on."It was impossible to forgive or make peace with a situation when I kept saying, "It's okay. It doesn't hurt that much. It's no big deal." I had to acknowledge the depth and severity of the emotional wounds. (Ummm... Are there emotional wounds to knowing that a friend was raped? Are there emotional wounds to learning of a friend's abuse? How do I feel the hurt and trauma of the original pain if the pain wasn't mine to feel? I don't know the answers...)
I'd also add to his thoughts that as long as I allowed myself to continue to be abused by other people, I couldn't even begin to start the grieving process... My therapist repeated to me over and over, "As long as you allow yourself to be abused, you will never heal from past abuse." Sometimes I felt resentment, because I didn't set up boundaries. He (pick a him, any him) violated me, and my resentment came because I let him. Once I started standing up for myself and taking care of myself, the anger and resentment just fell away. I wasn't afraid anymore. Once I knew I would not sacrifice myself or my body just to make someone else happy, I experienced a lot of healing.
My friend explained forgiveness this way:
"I totally believe in forgiveness... the kind that says, "I don't give a fuck what you do, I'm going to be happy." I don't believe in the kind that says, "I don't give a fuck what you do, I'm going to let you be in my life and fuck me over..." There's a big difference between the two."I believe I can forgive without allowing someone back into my life. I have very few hard feelings for Larry, but I don't ever want to see him again. Seeing him, and allowing him in my life would take a lot more work... For me AND for him. Luckily, he seems perfectly content to never talk again.
And maybe the quote that seems to fit my definition the best is this:
"Forgiveness is letting go of the hope that the past can be changed."
I no longer wish that I had never been raped, or that I had never gotten divorced, or that my parents had been different, or.... I no longer wish that I could change the past for my friends. I no longer wish that I had learned all of this stuff when I was nineteen, so somehow I could have prevented all of the pain. I no longer wish that I could have done it differently.
It means I'm at peace with my past and with my present.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Saddled: Defining Recovery
I just finished the book Saddled by Susan Richards.
I LOVED the first book she wrote (Chosen by a Horse), and the second (Chosen Forever). This one was touching and beautiful, and harder to read.
She talks about her abusive relationship with her (now ex) husband. She talks about her alcoholism and trying to free herself from her addictions. She talks about wanting to die and feeling helpless and hopeless and not knowing why. I think my favorite part was her description of AA.
When I went to treatment the first time, I defined recovery as "eating my dinner".
I also think I defined it as being happy all the time: No matter what was happening around me, I was supposed to be happy... Do what I was supposed to do, no matter how I felt. It is no wonder I got depressed and tired and gave up trying to recover. I was doing the opposite of recovering... I was still trying to find a way to make the "bad" parts of myself go away. To-do lists, service, church callings, work, were all ways to 'shut down all or parts of myself', and it was exhausting and miserable.
When I went the second time eleven years later, I defined recovery as "loving myself more than I hate myself". It SOUNDED better but, I think there was still some belief that I would change myself so much that I would love myself.
In May 2010. BJ and I were walking and talking about the afterlife and being gay. (I don't remember why we were talking about it... We just were.) I realized that if I were gay, I wouldn't want that very important part of myself different in the eternities. How insulting! There's nothing wrong with them: They are perfect just the way they are. And then... I started to cry, and I said, "There's nothing wrong with ME. I am perfect just the way I am." And then he started to cry, and gave me a big hug, and my life stopped being so painful after that. I stopped trying to change me, and started to accept me.
My new definition of recovery (with the help of Susan Richards' book) is:
It's becoming whole. Accepting all the parts of myself. Loving myself just as I am.
I LOVED the first book she wrote (Chosen by a Horse), and the second (Chosen Forever). This one was touching and beautiful, and harder to read.
She talks about her abusive relationship with her (now ex) husband. She talks about her alcoholism and trying to free herself from her addictions. She talks about wanting to die and feeling helpless and hopeless and not knowing why. I think my favorite part was her description of AA.
"I didn't know that becoming sober meant really changing. Not drinking was the least of it. It was the rest of me that was the problem, the part that wanted to stay numb. The men and women in that room (AA) didn't sound numb anymore. They were angry and scared and depressed. They were also hopeful and funny and grateful. They were all over the place. The word that came to mind was whole. After years of shutting down all or parts of themselves with alcohol, they were finally whole human beings.
I sat in a corner with my arms crossed and my mouth shut and listened to what whole human beings sounded like. Evidently being human was a messy business. Not a single person said Everything's fine - my stock response since I was a child to any question about my state of mind. It had never been true, but that didn't keep from repeating it for the next twenty years. I thought that's what you were supposed to say. I thought that's what you were supposed to feel. Anything else meant you were a complainer or worse - a bad person, a wrong person, and wrong was just a code word for crazy. I didn't want to be crazy, because I was already on shaky ground in the wantable department. So the sweet smiley girl became the sweet smiley woman who drank liquor to help keep the lid on anything that didn't reflect how fine she felt one hundred percent of the time. Never mind the on-and-off suicide fantasies going back to fourth grade. Doesn't everybody have those? I was fine."I think I could have written those two paragraphs myself, just substitute alcohol and liquor with eating disorder and eating disorder behaviors.
When I went to treatment the first time, I defined recovery as "eating my dinner".
I also think I defined it as being happy all the time: No matter what was happening around me, I was supposed to be happy... Do what I was supposed to do, no matter how I felt. It is no wonder I got depressed and tired and gave up trying to recover. I was doing the opposite of recovering... I was still trying to find a way to make the "bad" parts of myself go away. To-do lists, service, church callings, work, were all ways to 'shut down all or parts of myself', and it was exhausting and miserable.
When I went the second time eleven years later, I defined recovery as "loving myself more than I hate myself". It SOUNDED better but, I think there was still some belief that I would change myself so much that I would love myself.
In May 2010. BJ and I were walking and talking about the afterlife and being gay. (I don't remember why we were talking about it... We just were.) I realized that if I were gay, I wouldn't want that very important part of myself different in the eternities. How insulting! There's nothing wrong with them: They are perfect just the way they are. And then... I started to cry, and I said, "There's nothing wrong with ME. I am perfect just the way I am." And then he started to cry, and gave me a big hug, and my life stopped being so painful after that. I stopped trying to change me, and started to accept me.
My new definition of recovery (with the help of Susan Richards' book) is:
It's becoming whole. Accepting all the parts of myself. Loving myself just as I am.
"Unconditional love is not to love you despite the way you are.
Unconditional love is to love every aspect of you and to send love into every aspect of who you are."
Sunday, February 19, 2012
What I really meant to say when I said, "Don't judge me"
In a conversation with a friend. What she said was, "I wish he would stop judging me. I feel like he thinks everything I do is bad."
My question, "Why does it matter what he thinks?"
Her answer, "I just miss the way it felt when he thought I was good."
And then it hit me:
For so long, I SAID I didn't want people to judge me, but the truth was I NEEDED them to judge me. I needed them to judge me and find me "good". Although I hated their disapproval, their approval was too important to me to give up "being judged".
I'm not sure when the change happened, but it came to a point when I decided I didn't care what other people thought. I didn't need or even want other people's approval anymore. I just wanted to live my own life. Amazing things started happening. I don't NEED compliments. I don't NEED people to tell me I'm doing a good job. I don't NEED anyone else to tell me I'm good... And the "negative" stuff doesn't stick like it used to either. Life is a lot more peaceful.
All of this made me think of the children's storybook, You are Special by Max Lucado.
"Everytime they got a star, it made them feel SO good, they wanted to do more things to get more stars."
"Some couldn't do those things. They got dots."
"One day he met a Wemmick unlike all the others. She had NO stickers. People tried to give her stars and dots, but they wouldn't stick."
"That's how I want to be!"
"The stickers only stick if you let them. The stickers only stick if they matter to you."
My question, "Why does it matter what he thinks?"
Her answer, "I just miss the way it felt when he thought I was good."
And then it hit me:
For so long, I SAID I didn't want people to judge me, but the truth was I NEEDED them to judge me. I needed them to judge me and find me "good". Although I hated their disapproval, their approval was too important to me to give up "being judged".
I'm not sure when the change happened, but it came to a point when I decided I didn't care what other people thought. I didn't need or even want other people's approval anymore. I just wanted to live my own life. Amazing things started happening. I don't NEED compliments. I don't NEED people to tell me I'm doing a good job. I don't NEED anyone else to tell me I'm good... And the "negative" stuff doesn't stick like it used to either. Life is a lot more peaceful.
All of this made me think of the children's storybook, You are Special by Max Lucado.
"Everytime they got a star, it made them feel SO good, they wanted to do more things to get more stars."
"Some couldn't do those things. They got dots."
"One day he met a Wemmick unlike all the others. She had NO stickers. People tried to give her stars and dots, but they wouldn't stick."
"That's how I want to be!"
"The stickers only stick if you let them. The stickers only stick if they matter to you."
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Redefining selfishness (again)
I was reading the book, Who'd You Put Your Panties on for Today?
this morning, and feeling frustrated with the author. "This woman is selfish, controlling, and she's driving me crazy!"
I kept reading... mostly because the book was a gift, and I wanted to be able to say nice things about it.
About half way through, she finally said something that warmed me up to her a bit:
In the book up to this point, this woman wanted things perfect. The rug straight. Her children, friends, husband, and family to look and be a certain way. And she thought that by telling them how (and really who) she wanted them to be, she was "putting her panties on for herself". It was a big wakeup call to her when she finally saw things as they are. (She was expecting everyone else to do things her way, and by demanding that she was not taking care of herself like she thought. In reality demanding others to be and do what she wanted was hurting them and herself.)
Redefining selfishness (again):
I used to believe selfish was living my life for myself. That's not true. That's healthy living. Doing EXACTLY what I need and want to do.
Selfish is expecting others to live their life for me.
It is not selfish to take care of myself. It is not selfish to have wants, needs, desires, and to go after them.
It IS selfish to expect others to take care of me. It IS selfish to expect other people to give me my needs, wants, and desires just because I want them. It IS selfish to expect others to sacrifice their wants, needs and desires for mine.
Expressing wants and desires = taking care of myself. Owning my voice.
Expecting others to give me my wants just because I express them = being dependent on another person. Giving them my voice. In this scenario, my voice (sharing my wants, thoughts, desires) is only worth what they give me as a result of my speaking up. If they give me what I want, it was a good thing to ask for what I needed. If they don't, then I shouldn't have asked.
Asking for what I want is NOT about what others do. The part that is important is just saying what I want... it doesn't matter what comes after that.
(By the way, I liked the rest of the book. It was a fun read. Using panties as a way to explain self-care and healthy change. It was like reading her journal - traveling and learning right along with her... I enjoyed that. Plus there's lots of sketches of different types of underwear.)
this morning, and feeling frustrated with the author. "This woman is selfish, controlling, and she's driving me crazy!"I kept reading... mostly because the book was a gift, and I wanted to be able to say nice things about it.
About half way through, she finally said something that warmed me up to her a bit:
"I realized I was putting my panties on for me, and I was expecting everyone else to put their panties on for me too."Now we're getting somewhere.
In the book up to this point, this woman wanted things perfect. The rug straight. Her children, friends, husband, and family to look and be a certain way. And she thought that by telling them how (and really who) she wanted them to be, she was "putting her panties on for herself". It was a big wakeup call to her when she finally saw things as they are. (She was expecting everyone else to do things her way, and by demanding that she was not taking care of herself like she thought. In reality demanding others to be and do what she wanted was hurting them and herself.)
Redefining selfishness (again):
I used to believe selfish was living my life for myself. That's not true. That's healthy living. Doing EXACTLY what I need and want to do.
Selfish is expecting others to live their life for me.
It is not selfish to take care of myself. It is not selfish to have wants, needs, desires, and to go after them.
It IS selfish to expect others to take care of me. It IS selfish to expect other people to give me my needs, wants, and desires just because I want them. It IS selfish to expect others to sacrifice their wants, needs and desires for mine.
Expressing wants and desires = taking care of myself. Owning my voice.
Expecting others to give me my wants just because I express them = being dependent on another person. Giving them my voice. In this scenario, my voice (sharing my wants, thoughts, desires) is only worth what they give me as a result of my speaking up. If they give me what I want, it was a good thing to ask for what I needed. If they don't, then I shouldn't have asked.
Asking for what I want is NOT about what others do. The part that is important is just saying what I want... it doesn't matter what comes after that.
(By the way, I liked the rest of the book. It was a fun read. Using panties as a way to explain self-care and healthy change. It was like reading her journal - traveling and learning right along with her... I enjoyed that. Plus there's lots of sketches of different types of underwear.)
Monday, January 23, 2012
I read a book, and I loved it: Dancing with Crazy
I just finished the book Dancing with Crazy.
Emily opens the book standing in front of a mirror in the temple. She looks at her own reflections and asks the questions, "How and when had I so willingly and completely abdicated the throne of my own life? And much more importantly why? When had I vanished into thin air?"
The rest of the book explains the life events, teachings, ideas, thoughts, etc, that got her to that decision... and then continues her story from there.
She reminded me of my friend Teffy. You could put the two of them in a room together, and they'd tell tragic, traumatic and horribly sad stories, and they'd have you rolling on the floor laughing until you pee. I don't know how they do it.
Big moments in the book for me:
Her panic and fear of all the people who were going to be burned in the last day. She was TERRIFIED that her friends would suffer.
I had panic attacks and fear of the second coming from the earliest I can remember. I was afraid to watch people suffer - I hoped I would be dead before Christ came, because maybe I wouldn't see all the suffering. The idea of being lifted up on a cloud while the "wicked" burned made me sick. I thought it would be far better to be burned than to sit and watch.
Her fear of evil spirits.
I was convinced my evil spirits had been my best friends. I knew them. I loved them, and now I couldn't decide if I was supposed to save them or run from them... I was so afraid of doing or thinking anything even slightly "wrong", because I was terrified of the devil and his minions. I felt them all around me. All the time. There was actually a ward fast once to help cast out the evil spirits within me. The fast didn't work, but finally just letting go of the fear and the guilt that had driven me my whole life - that got rid of all of them. None of them have bothered me for a couple of years.
The way she thought about herself, her body, and sex... And how she came to know WHY she felt that way... and the healing that she had to go through.
At this point in the book, I turned to BJ. I thanked him for just being with me while I curled up on the floor. In INTENSE pain. For hours and hours a day for months and months. NO sleep. No relief. I could have done it alone, and I think I would have...AND It was sure nice having someone there.
Her eating disorder.
She never uses the words, "eating disorder", but I have spent many months in treatment for starving myself for the very same reasons she starved herself. She wanted to die, but she wasn't allowed to kill herself, but maybe... If she just stopped eating, "God would be so kind as to take me home."
Her depression. And the way she pushed through it, so that most of the time, nobody really even know how desperately she longed for death.
Her feelings about the priesthood and blessings...
WHAT A RELIEF that I wasn't the only one that was a blessing junky, and for the same reasons. I can't know if my thoughts are from God or Satan, but if I get a blessing, they are speaking for God... I can trust these mens' voices over my own. Except when I know what they are saying just isn't right... How do I reconcile that? And then one day realizing that I don't NEED a man to put his hands on my head to tell me what to do. I KNOW what I need, who I am, and what step to take next. I don't believe in priesthood blessings anymore, and that is a HUGE relief. (Except that I do believe there is power in belief and power in touch, and combine the two there IS a power.)
Her reasons for getting married. Her reasons for dating. Her reasons for every decision:
I spent my whole life trying to get people to love me, because I didn't love me, and I needed to feel loved. Neither one of us was strong enough to protect ourselves from some pretty awful predators, so we were hurt over and over and over... until... one day... we each just figured it out.
I loved so much about this book. My favorite line was at the end of the book.
Emily opens the book standing in front of a mirror in the temple. She looks at her own reflections and asks the questions, "How and when had I so willingly and completely abdicated the throne of my own life? And much more importantly why? When had I vanished into thin air?"
The rest of the book explains the life events, teachings, ideas, thoughts, etc, that got her to that decision... and then continues her story from there.
She reminded me of my friend Teffy. You could put the two of them in a room together, and they'd tell tragic, traumatic and horribly sad stories, and they'd have you rolling on the floor laughing until you pee. I don't know how they do it.
Big moments in the book for me:
Her panic and fear of all the people who were going to be burned in the last day. She was TERRIFIED that her friends would suffer.
I had panic attacks and fear of the second coming from the earliest I can remember. I was afraid to watch people suffer - I hoped I would be dead before Christ came, because maybe I wouldn't see all the suffering. The idea of being lifted up on a cloud while the "wicked" burned made me sick. I thought it would be far better to be burned than to sit and watch.
Her fear of evil spirits.
I was convinced my evil spirits had been my best friends. I knew them. I loved them, and now I couldn't decide if I was supposed to save them or run from them... I was so afraid of doing or thinking anything even slightly "wrong", because I was terrified of the devil and his minions. I felt them all around me. All the time. There was actually a ward fast once to help cast out the evil spirits within me. The fast didn't work, but finally just letting go of the fear and the guilt that had driven me my whole life - that got rid of all of them. None of them have bothered me for a couple of years.
The way she thought about herself, her body, and sex... And how she came to know WHY she felt that way... and the healing that she had to go through.
At this point in the book, I turned to BJ. I thanked him for just being with me while I curled up on the floor. In INTENSE pain. For hours and hours a day for months and months. NO sleep. No relief. I could have done it alone, and I think I would have...AND It was sure nice having someone there.
Her eating disorder.
She never uses the words, "eating disorder", but I have spent many months in treatment for starving myself for the very same reasons she starved herself. She wanted to die, but she wasn't allowed to kill herself, but maybe... If she just stopped eating, "God would be so kind as to take me home."
Her depression. And the way she pushed through it, so that most of the time, nobody really even know how desperately she longed for death.
Her feelings about the priesthood and blessings...
WHAT A RELIEF that I wasn't the only one that was a blessing junky, and for the same reasons. I can't know if my thoughts are from God or Satan, but if I get a blessing, they are speaking for God... I can trust these mens' voices over my own. Except when I know what they are saying just isn't right... How do I reconcile that? And then one day realizing that I don't NEED a man to put his hands on my head to tell me what to do. I KNOW what I need, who I am, and what step to take next. I don't believe in priesthood blessings anymore, and that is a HUGE relief. (Except that I do believe there is power in belief and power in touch, and combine the two there IS a power.)
Her reasons for getting married. Her reasons for dating. Her reasons for every decision:
I spent my whole life trying to get people to love me, because I didn't love me, and I needed to feel loved. Neither one of us was strong enough to protect ourselves from some pretty awful predators, so we were hurt over and over and over... until... one day... we each just figured it out.
I loved so much about this book. My favorite line was at the end of the book.
"You are a part of me and I am a part of you. There is no distinction between us. You already live in my heart and there is nothing you can ever do to change that. You can never be separate from me. Ever. It's impossible, And by the way, if you still insist on knowing who your eternal companion is, well guess what?
It's you."
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Elizabeth Gilbert: Thoughts on creativity... and marriage.
A friend shared this with me, and I love it.
As a side note, I never read Eat, Pray, Love, but I did read Committed (the follow-up to her freakishly successful book), and I loved it. I read it when I was first trying to define relationships and love... She gave me a ton to think about. She thought outside of the box I was raised in, which helped me to really decide what I thought and what I felt.
I find myself repeating ideas from her book often.
Because we have so many expectations of what the other person should be. Because we have so many expectations of how the relationship should look. Because we want that other person to be everything for us, so we put our happiness in their hands, and they put it their happiness in ours... It's a lot of work to be responsible for someone else's happiness.
It isn't nearly as hard to be responsible for my happiness... To take care of myself... and then to just enjoy time spent with those I love. No expectations. (I always need to say the following though, because sometimes when I start telling myself not to have expectations, I think that means take whatever shit the other person dishes out... But that's not what I'm saying... There is always the ability to redefine and change the relationship, and even leave it behind if it is not a healthy place to be.)
I don't think relationships are hard work... unless the hard work is that everyday I seek to know and love myself... to learn all that I can about me... that's hard. That sucks sometimes, but it is so much easier than the "hard" I experienced in relationships in the past... Being abused and hurt and trying to control others, which in turn hurt them... THAT was hard. THAT hurt.
This wasn't exactly where I was planning on going with this post... I just really liked watching the video of Liz Gilbert, and that got me thinking about the book, and I wanted to share what I'd learned from it... I think it's way cool that I read the book years ago, and many of the thoughts she expressed have now become a part of me. That is the awesomeness of books!
As a side note, I never read Eat, Pray, Love, but I did read Committed (the follow-up to her freakishly successful book), and I loved it. I read it when I was first trying to define relationships and love... She gave me a ton to think about. She thought outside of the box I was raised in, which helped me to really decide what I thought and what I felt.
I find myself repeating ideas from her book often.
"There is hardly a more gracious gift that we can offer somebody than to accept them fully, to love them."The following is a quote at the end of the chapter where she talks about Marriage and Expectations. She was interviewing the Hmong women. She asked them a ton of questions about their husbands and marriage, and they didn't understand her questions. One woman finally told her that there was no such thing as a "good husband" or a "bad husband"... There were just husbands and wives and marriages. Everything just is.
"We Americans often say that marriage is 'hard work.' I'm not sure the Hmong would understand this notion. Life is hard work, of course and WORK is very hard work - I'm quite certain they would agree with those statements - but how does marriage become hard work? Here's how: Marriage becomes hard work once you have poured the entirety of your life's expectations for happiness into the hands of one mere person. Keeping that going is hard work....This second quote is a BIG one for me. WHY is marriage (and love and relationships) "hard work"?
This is exactly what I myself have expected in the past from love and this is what I was now preparing to expect all over again with Felipe - that we should somehow be answerable for every aspect of each others' joy and happiness. That our very job description as spouses was to be each others' everything.
So I had always assumed, anyhow.
And so I might have gone on blithely assuming, except that my encounter with the Hmong had knocked me off course in one critical regard: For the first time in my life, it occurred to me that perhaps I was asking too much of love. Or, at least, perhaps I was asking too much of marriage. Perhaps I was loading a far heavier cargo of expectation onto the creaky old boat of matrimony than that strange vessel had ever been built to accommodate in the first place."
Because we have so many expectations of what the other person should be. Because we have so many expectations of how the relationship should look. Because we want that other person to be everything for us, so we put our happiness in their hands, and they put it their happiness in ours... It's a lot of work to be responsible for someone else's happiness.
It isn't nearly as hard to be responsible for my happiness... To take care of myself... and then to just enjoy time spent with those I love. No expectations. (I always need to say the following though, because sometimes when I start telling myself not to have expectations, I think that means take whatever shit the other person dishes out... But that's not what I'm saying... There is always the ability to redefine and change the relationship, and even leave it behind if it is not a healthy place to be.)
I don't think relationships are hard work... unless the hard work is that everyday I seek to know and love myself... to learn all that I can about me... that's hard. That sucks sometimes, but it is so much easier than the "hard" I experienced in relationships in the past... Being abused and hurt and trying to control others, which in turn hurt them... THAT was hard. THAT hurt.
This wasn't exactly where I was planning on going with this post... I just really liked watching the video of Liz Gilbert, and that got me thinking about the book, and I wanted to share what I'd learned from it... I think it's way cool that I read the book years ago, and many of the thoughts she expressed have now become a part of me. That is the awesomeness of books!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Explain a little bit about who YOU are
I recently agreed to be a part of a panel on sexual abuse/self harm. They asked for two different "bios".
One that quickly glossed over the abuse and my self-harm/eating disorder history. That was hard to write. Seeing it all together in one story made it more... real... "Wow. All those things really happened to ONE person... and that one person was ME." I cried a lot after writing that.
The other was supposed to be, "something simple that explains a little bit about who YOU are"
I wrote one that read like a resume: I have a Bachelor's degree in Sociology, this is where I work, and where I have worked and volunteered in the past, and listed a few things I love like horses, fishing, and reading.
I felt frustrated.
Frustration #1: It was many years ago that I did speaking for eating disorder awareness... (I even got to be interviewed by 20/20 once.) My "recovery" story was all about college, married, active in church, future children, blah, blah, blah... I don't feel "successful" enough as I try to explain "who I am".
And now, I am remembering what life was actually like when I was a speaker. I was the kind of recovery speaker that I hate! I stood up there and talked about how happy and successful I was, but my life was hell. That probably explains why I hate recovery speakers... I don't trust them to say how it actually is, because I didn't.
If I had been honest it would have gone something like, "I'm in college, taking 22 credits a semester, because I need to stay busy or I'll go crazy. I'm also trying to get done as quickly as possible, so then maybe I only have to work one job to support my husband, so I can have kids one day. I haven't even thought about if I WANT kids, but I'm going to have them, so I can prove that I am a good person... I hate sex, but he forces himself on me every single night. It really hurts, and I cry, but he gets it done quickly, so it could be worse... He tells me I'm fat and disgusting on a regular basis, but I still eat my dinner, because I know that if I don't, that will make people really upset with me. I will never go back to the eating disorder, but I really hate my body. Sometimes I get "too busy to eat". He likes me better when I do that: Tells me I look really great, and I feel confused. How do I please him by looking like I have an eating disorder without actually having one? I wish I could just give up, but I won't, because I know God needs me to do something big... And although I think about dying every single day, I'm happy. I must be happy, because I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing... And well.. If you just go to therapy, and eat your dinner, you too can have this life."
I'm shaking my head at myself.
There's still a part of me that wants to be able to say I am a picture of perfection: Master's degree, married, ten kids, house, hubs with a good job, active in the church, active volunteer in lots of different organizations, and there's probably more I'd love to add to the list... except that is not the life *I* want. If I were to tell my "recovery story" today, it would be so much MORE powerful, because it's real, and I am living MY life... just the way I want it... and isn't that more like "recovery" than anything I have EVER had?!?!? Yes. Yes it is. I tried to live the "picture of perfection" life, and I was miserable.
Frustration #2: I, Jen, am NOT my degree or my job, or even the places I've volunteered. That's not ME... but I live in a world that values degrees and jobs and achievements... (I live in Utah, so having kids is sometimes seen as an achievement; a sign that you are successful at something. Often, it's the only achievement that matters for a woman, but until you have kids, a successful career is an acceptable substitution.) Other people use their accomplishments to describe who they are. Does that mean I have to do that? If I'm not my degree or my job, then how do I write a bio that explains who I am?
Who am I? What is important to me? What do I want you to know about me?
I'm the oldest of five kids, although none of us are "kids" now. I love being a big sister: spending time with my siblings is some of the best spent time in the whole world. I could spend hours telling stories about them: the things they've accomplished, thought, felt, done and shared with me. They are a big part of who I am.
I love learning. I have a degree in Sociology, but my most valuable education has come from the people I have met and the books I have read. I love a good discussion. It's hard for me to do small talk - I'd rather dive in and talk about YOU. I really enjoy writing and I love reading. I spend a lot of time in the blogging world. And books. If you came to my house, the first thing you'd see in the living room is the bookshelf. It's full, and I have three more boxes of books under my bed. I have been shaped by the books I read. Right now I'd say the book that has made the biggest difference in my life is Tao of Equus, partially because it lead me to so many other amazing books. I also love anything by Miguel Ruiz. It's hard for me to pick just one or two books though, so tomorrow I might tell you something completely different.
I am passionate about GLBT and women's rights. It is also important to me to talk about all kinds of abuse. I believe the only way to change is to educate, so I speak up as much as I can.
I love music. I play the piano and the violin. There is something magical about playing in an orchestra. I love how all of the different parts come together to make music.
I love outdoors, nature and animals, especially horses. I've been all over the mountains on horseback. I think the best feeling in the world is to be in the mountains, on the back of a horse, running as fast as he can run. I also enjoy just sitting in the pasture being near horses. Sometimes I feel like I fit better with horses than with people. I also enjoy hiking and fly-fishing (catch and release only). I recently moved to (little town in the mountains). I have horses in the backyard, a wrap-around porch, I work from home, and I'm five minutes to the river.
That's me. What else do you want to know?
One that quickly glossed over the abuse and my self-harm/eating disorder history. That was hard to write. Seeing it all together in one story made it more... real... "Wow. All those things really happened to ONE person... and that one person was ME." I cried a lot after writing that.
The other was supposed to be, "something simple that explains a little bit about who YOU are"
I wrote one that read like a resume: I have a Bachelor's degree in Sociology, this is where I work, and where I have worked and volunteered in the past, and listed a few things I love like horses, fishing, and reading.
I felt frustrated.
Frustration #1: It was many years ago that I did speaking for eating disorder awareness... (I even got to be interviewed by 20/20 once.) My "recovery" story was all about college, married, active in church, future children, blah, blah, blah... I don't feel "successful" enough as I try to explain "who I am".
And now, I am remembering what life was actually like when I was a speaker. I was the kind of recovery speaker that I hate! I stood up there and talked about how happy and successful I was, but my life was hell. That probably explains why I hate recovery speakers... I don't trust them to say how it actually is, because I didn't.
If I had been honest it would have gone something like, "I'm in college, taking 22 credits a semester, because I need to stay busy or I'll go crazy. I'm also trying to get done as quickly as possible, so then maybe I only have to work one job to support my husband, so I can have kids one day. I haven't even thought about if I WANT kids, but I'm going to have them, so I can prove that I am a good person... I hate sex, but he forces himself on me every single night. It really hurts, and I cry, but he gets it done quickly, so it could be worse... He tells me I'm fat and disgusting on a regular basis, but I still eat my dinner, because I know that if I don't, that will make people really upset with me. I will never go back to the eating disorder, but I really hate my body. Sometimes I get "too busy to eat". He likes me better when I do that: Tells me I look really great, and I feel confused. How do I please him by looking like I have an eating disorder without actually having one? I wish I could just give up, but I won't, because I know God needs me to do something big... And although I think about dying every single day, I'm happy. I must be happy, because I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing... And well.. If you just go to therapy, and eat your dinner, you too can have this life."
I'm shaking my head at myself.
There's still a part of me that wants to be able to say I am a picture of perfection: Master's degree, married, ten kids, house, hubs with a good job, active in the church, active volunteer in lots of different organizations, and there's probably more I'd love to add to the list... except that is not the life *I* want. If I were to tell my "recovery story" today, it would be so much MORE powerful, because it's real, and I am living MY life... just the way I want it... and isn't that more like "recovery" than anything I have EVER had?!?!? Yes. Yes it is. I tried to live the "picture of perfection" life, and I was miserable.
Frustration #2: I, Jen, am NOT my degree or my job, or even the places I've volunteered. That's not ME... but I live in a world that values degrees and jobs and achievements... (I live in Utah, so having kids is sometimes seen as an achievement; a sign that you are successful at something. Often, it's the only achievement that matters for a woman, but until you have kids, a successful career is an acceptable substitution.) Other people use their accomplishments to describe who they are. Does that mean I have to do that? If I'm not my degree or my job, then how do I write a bio that explains who I am?
Who am I? What is important to me? What do I want you to know about me?
I'm the oldest of five kids, although none of us are "kids" now. I love being a big sister: spending time with my siblings is some of the best spent time in the whole world. I could spend hours telling stories about them: the things they've accomplished, thought, felt, done and shared with me. They are a big part of who I am.
I love learning. I have a degree in Sociology, but my most valuable education has come from the people I have met and the books I have read. I love a good discussion. It's hard for me to do small talk - I'd rather dive in and talk about YOU. I really enjoy writing and I love reading. I spend a lot of time in the blogging world. And books. If you came to my house, the first thing you'd see in the living room is the bookshelf. It's full, and I have three more boxes of books under my bed. I have been shaped by the books I read. Right now I'd say the book that has made the biggest difference in my life is Tao of Equus, partially because it lead me to so many other amazing books. I also love anything by Miguel Ruiz. It's hard for me to pick just one or two books though, so tomorrow I might tell you something completely different.
I am passionate about GLBT and women's rights. It is also important to me to talk about all kinds of abuse. I believe the only way to change is to educate, so I speak up as much as I can.
I love music. I play the piano and the violin. There is something magical about playing in an orchestra. I love how all of the different parts come together to make music.
I love outdoors, nature and animals, especially horses. I've been all over the mountains on horseback. I think the best feeling in the world is to be in the mountains, on the back of a horse, running as fast as he can run. I also enjoy just sitting in the pasture being near horses. Sometimes I feel like I fit better with horses than with people. I also enjoy hiking and fly-fishing (catch and release only). I recently moved to (little town in the mountains). I have horses in the backyard, a wrap-around porch, I work from home, and I'm five minutes to the river.
That's me. What else do you want to know?
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Help: Who knows what I become?
I'm thinking about a line in the book, The Help.
"Why? Why are you hitting me?" He leaned down and looked me right in the face. "If I didn't hit you, Minny, who know what you become."He actually thought he was helping her. He actually believed what he was doing was in HER best interest. I love the next line in the book:
"I was trapped in the corner of the bedroom like a dog. He was beating me with his belt. It was the first time I'd ever really thought about it Who knows what I could become, if Leroy would stop goddamn hitting me.(Spoiler alert: She got out! No more wondering who she'd become without having to deal with the constant abuse.)
There was a time when life was nothing more than survival. Life is not easy today, but "not easy" today compared to "not easy" a while ago... WOW! It's amazing the room I have in my brain to think. To hope. And to both be the change and create the change I want to see.
Watch out everybody: This girl's out to change the world.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Complete: I own all of me.
When I came downstairs this morning, BJ looked at me and said, "You look different."
At first I thought about how emotionally and physically exhausted I feel, but that's not it. I FEEL different. I haven't talked much about DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), and it hasn't really been a part of my life for a while. At the same time, I've known there was one more piece.
I called it The Rapist.
It was the part of me that held sexuality, anger, rage, the primal instincts to hunt, an aggressor.
I spent much of my life believing I was an object to serve others. I wasn't even allowed to defend myself against anything. Anger was bad. BAD. BAD. BAD. Only monsters felt angry, and only really big monsters did anything with that anger.
(Once upon a time, I informed BJ that if we were ever attacked by a bear while we were riding, I would let the bear kill me, because I didn't want to hurt it. He asked if I would hurt the bear to save him, and my answer was, "No. I'll just get the bear to eat me, so you can get away.")
I learned it was okay to feel anger, because that helped to keep me safe. I learned it was okay to defend myself... but my defenses were mostly to avoid and to hide. Those defenses are good defenses. (Especially since I'm small. It would be darn right silly for me to try to take on a bear.) I still was not allowed to even think about anything besides defending myself. There was also a part of me always waiting for the other person to act before I could decide how I would act.
Something in me has changed once again. It is okay to go on the offense sometimes. It is okay to make a choice and act on what I want. I am still not a violent person. Can't even imagine hitting another person... or an animal.. maybe a tennis racket to a couch cushion :) sometimes. I will never try to hurt someone else. I hope I will always be aware of how I am affecting others, but... It is okay that I feel angry. It is okay that I feel violent. It is okay to want. To go after what I want. To hunt. I am a wild woman, and I don't have to pretend that I am not.
I'm having a hard time using my words...Something is just different. I'm more whole. All of the pieces that used to be broken apart are now together as one person.
I'm whole. I own every part of me.
At first I thought about how emotionally and physically exhausted I feel, but that's not it. I FEEL different. I haven't talked much about DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), and it hasn't really been a part of my life for a while. At the same time, I've known there was one more piece.
I called it The Rapist.
It was the part of me that held sexuality, anger, rage, the primal instincts to hunt, an aggressor.
I spent much of my life believing I was an object to serve others. I wasn't even allowed to defend myself against anything. Anger was bad. BAD. BAD. BAD. Only monsters felt angry, and only really big monsters did anything with that anger.
(Once upon a time, I informed BJ that if we were ever attacked by a bear while we were riding, I would let the bear kill me, because I didn't want to hurt it. He asked if I would hurt the bear to save him, and my answer was, "No. I'll just get the bear to eat me, so you can get away.")
I learned it was okay to feel anger, because that helped to keep me safe. I learned it was okay to defend myself... but my defenses were mostly to avoid and to hide. Those defenses are good defenses. (Especially since I'm small. It would be darn right silly for me to try to take on a bear.) I still was not allowed to even think about anything besides defending myself. There was also a part of me always waiting for the other person to act before I could decide how I would act.
Something in me has changed once again. It is okay to go on the offense sometimes. It is okay to make a choice and act on what I want. I am still not a violent person. Can't even imagine hitting another person... or an animal.. maybe a tennis racket to a couch cushion :) sometimes. I will never try to hurt someone else. I hope I will always be aware of how I am affecting others, but... It is okay that I feel angry. It is okay that I feel violent. It is okay to want. To go after what I want. To hunt. I am a wild woman, and I don't have to pretend that I am not.
I'm having a hard time using my words...Something is just different. I'm more whole. All of the pieces that used to be broken apart are now together as one person.
I'm whole. I own every part of me.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Dumbledore knows what he's talking about
I'm in the process of rereading all of the Harry Potter books. I just finished the Goblet of Fire
.
Near the end of the book, Harry has been through hell. He's lost. Everyone around him is lost. This is the advice Dumbledore gives:
I had to accept I was abused. I had to accept it wasn't my fault, and there is nothing I could have done to change it. I had to accept that it has changed me and my life forever. I had to accept that some of the people that were supposed to love me the most are the ones that hurt me the most. I had to accept that what I thought was love, wasn't. I had to accept that I am who I am, and I've come to accept ME.
And then came recovery. The REAL recovery. The kind that leaves me feeling peaceful, fulfilled, happy, and connected to the people that love me.
(Back to the book) Harry was exhausted. He felt like he couldn't push any more. His friends were telling him to rest, sleep, take a break. Dumbledore had more advice.
Surviving the horrors of life takes great bravery. It also takes courage to stand up and use your voice and "Tell us what happened."
(So much for my "just for fun" reading, huh?)
.Near the end of the book, Harry has been through hell. He's lost. Everyone around him is lost. This is the advice Dumbledore gives:
"Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know."The most powerful part of that to me is only with acceptance can there be recovery.
I had to accept I was abused. I had to accept it wasn't my fault, and there is nothing I could have done to change it. I had to accept that it has changed me and my life forever. I had to accept that some of the people that were supposed to love me the most are the ones that hurt me the most. I had to accept that what I thought was love, wasn't. I had to accept that I am who I am, and I've come to accept ME.
And then came recovery. The REAL recovery. The kind that leaves me feeling peaceful, fulfilled, happy, and connected to the people that love me.
(Back to the book) Harry was exhausted. He felt like he couldn't push any more. His friends were telling him to rest, sleep, take a break. Dumbledore had more advice.
"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."There is a time for postponing and numbing the pain. I am positive I would not have survived without all of my various ways of avoiding the pain. If I had been able to deal with it back then, I would have, and it wouldn't have grown in intensity like it did.
Surviving the horrors of life takes great bravery. It also takes courage to stand up and use your voice and "Tell us what happened."
(So much for my "just for fun" reading, huh?)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
I'm all famous and stuff!
Ok. Famous is totally pushing it. But I did just post my first ever post on a blog that is not mine.
Go check it out!
Go check it out!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Serenity
In the book Controlling People, it basically says that when a person thinks they know what I feel (without me telling them), that is controlling.When I think I know what someone else is thinking or feeling, or that I can change what they are thinking and feeling, that is controlling.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
A few years ago, after leaving CFC (eating disorder treatment), but still VERY new in this whole healing process, I had to make a decision. I knew what I needed to do to heal my life, but I knew other people would think I was crazy. I kept trying to find another way around it, but finally gave up. "I don't care what people think. I don't care what other people do. Here goes nothing."
For me, what happened next was terrifying. I stopped trying to control myself so that I could control what everyone else thought of me. I cried uncontrollably for hours at a time. I screamed and ran away when I was scared, even though there was a part of me that could have controlled myself, I didn't try. I left the church. I withdrew from my family.
Some people thought I was crazy. Some people thought I was a bitch. Some people thought I was incredibly selfish. I had to give up who I thought I was, and who I thought others wanted me to be, and I had to give up the idea that I could change what other people thought of me.
I was threatened with hospitalization. I was able to say, "I'll go if that is what you need me to do. I understand that this is MY journey, and you are not required to go with me. I trust you to take care of you."
I ended up not going, and I'm glad... But that is not the point. I finally trusted me enough to let go, and I trusted the people in my life enough to let go of them. I didn't know what the end product would look like. There was a lot I didn't know, and it really didn't matter.
I didn't feel the need to control anything. Not me. Not them. Whatever happened, happened.
Fast forward to now.
I got the email from my cousin. Sent me into a kind of crazy place. At the same time, I was getting emails from BJ's kids and ex. They were telling me how I ruined his life. The combination was a little more than I could handle, and I went back to old ways of thinking.
I started to believe I was responsible for his choices. I started to believe I was responsible for their choices. I started to believe I couldn't trust myself or them or him. I forgot to even THINK about what I needed, even though that is the only thing I could know. I was trying to control what everyone else thought, rather than take care of myself.
I was quickly becoming all that I hated.
Luckily, I have some amazing friends. I changed course. I stopped trying to control what others were thinking and instead decided to face the things I could face: the memories and the secrets from my cousin.
I'm not going to say this is easy, it is NOT. I'm hurting. I'm crying. I'm scared. I'm sad. At the same time, I'm trusting the people around me to take care of themselves, and trusting me to do what is best for me, and knowing that whatever happens next is okay.
I cannot control what other people think about me.
Believing that I can, only makes me (and everyone else) incredibly miserable.
Knowing that I can't, frees me to live.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
A few years ago, after leaving CFC (eating disorder treatment), but still VERY new in this whole healing process, I had to make a decision. I knew what I needed to do to heal my life, but I knew other people would think I was crazy. I kept trying to find another way around it, but finally gave up. "I don't care what people think. I don't care what other people do. Here goes nothing."
For me, what happened next was terrifying. I stopped trying to control myself so that I could control what everyone else thought of me. I cried uncontrollably for hours at a time. I screamed and ran away when I was scared, even though there was a part of me that could have controlled myself, I didn't try. I left the church. I withdrew from my family.
Some people thought I was crazy. Some people thought I was a bitch. Some people thought I was incredibly selfish. I had to give up who I thought I was, and who I thought others wanted me to be, and I had to give up the idea that I could change what other people thought of me.
I was threatened with hospitalization. I was able to say, "I'll go if that is what you need me to do. I understand that this is MY journey, and you are not required to go with me. I trust you to take care of you."
I ended up not going, and I'm glad... But that is not the point. I finally trusted me enough to let go, and I trusted the people in my life enough to let go of them. I didn't know what the end product would look like. There was a lot I didn't know, and it really didn't matter.
I didn't feel the need to control anything. Not me. Not them. Whatever happened, happened.
Fast forward to now.
I got the email from my cousin. Sent me into a kind of crazy place. At the same time, I was getting emails from BJ's kids and ex. They were telling me how I ruined his life. The combination was a little more than I could handle, and I went back to old ways of thinking.
I started to believe I was responsible for his choices. I started to believe I was responsible for their choices. I started to believe I couldn't trust myself or them or him. I forgot to even THINK about what I needed, even though that is the only thing I could know. I was trying to control what everyone else thought, rather than take care of myself.
I was quickly becoming all that I hated.
Luckily, I have some amazing friends. I changed course. I stopped trying to control what others were thinking and instead decided to face the things I could face: the memories and the secrets from my cousin.
I'm not going to say this is easy, it is NOT. I'm hurting. I'm crying. I'm scared. I'm sad. At the same time, I'm trusting the people around me to take care of themselves, and trusting me to do what is best for me, and knowing that whatever happens next is okay.
I cannot control what other people think about me.
Believing that I can, only makes me (and everyone else) incredibly miserable.
Knowing that I can't, frees me to live.
God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
Courage to change the things I can.
And wisdom to know the difference.
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