Blessings in Disguise

Pressing on toward The Bliss, I came upon the Valley of the “If Onlys…”.  While there, I realized I am still so profoundly angry at myself for not seeing what was so clear to everyone else – including perfect strangers.  I see what’s hidden from others and am blind to what’s obvious about myself.  Such is the way of The Gift of Insight.

I am still so profoundly angry at myself for being so naïve and trusting.  Even after All That, I’m STILL so naïve and trusting.  That pisses me off, too.

I am PROFOUNDLY ANGRY over how stubbornly I held onto my Core of Lies and refused to consider The Truth.

Immersed in anger, naturally my thoughts turn to Fiancé #3.  Be careful of the vibes you send out:  While I was mulling All That over (yet again), his long arm reached out from 2012 and clutched me by the throat (yet again).  That familiar sense of panic crept into my being and, in no time at all, I was Back There, a panicky whirling dervish.

How much longer?

How much longer will I pay for all of those decisions borne out of self-loathing?  I get it now; my Grand Canyon-sized confidence problem is shrinking.

What else?

What else don’t I know about?  Just when I think that door is sealed shut, I discover more antics for which I am responsible.  I accept my responsibility as a bitter lesson in not being so naïve and trusting.  But…how pervasive and never-ending are the consequences?  Will the mess never end?  When is That Fuck going to let go?

Which brings me to my point:  Gratitude for The Hardest Loss. 

THANK GOD I had that miscarriage. 

I watch people struggle to amicably co-exist with The Other Parent while not letting their issues spill over and affect the children.  I can’t imagine a more difficult, mind-, soul-, and heart-numbing battle.  It puts my own battles in perspective:  Thank God I don’t have a little mind, heart, and soul relying on me to grow and thrive her.  Thank God I don’t have to co-exist.  Thank God I have the luxury of working through it all without also being responsible for someone else who is completely reliant on me, of all people.

Thank God.

Thank God for it all. 

And so I press on:  I press on toward The Bliss, not so naïve to think The Mess is over, but trusting Life to reset it, if only I don’t succumb to The Panic. 

L’Chaim!

Pressing On Toward The Bliss

Recently, my ego got twisted off and ripped all of the way out of my being.  In one fell swoop.  

The Ego is what gets in the way of most of Life’s Bliss:  It’s what causes those emotional reactions that alienate us from situations (and people) we love.

Considering that, I’m “happy.”

However…

Ripping a Band-Aid off a recently cauterized wound hurts a LOT.  And the bleeding starts all over again.

In other words, the Abandoned Little Girl who lives inside me has been let out of her room and she is UN. HAPPY.  I *thought* we resolved our issues and yet here we are again, crying over the same hurts.  Really?

So, today, Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, I say (to myself), “Yes, really…again.” and I press on.  I press on toward the change and the re-birth and the transformation that The Resurrection promises (and delivers) every Spring. 

I press on, away from the muck and the mire, even though I’m still stuck deep in it.  I’ll eventually get out. 

I thought Lent was about giving up something beloved in order to achieve grace and mercy.  Oh, how wrong I was.  Lent is about giving something up:  It’s about giving up that something – whatever it is – that’s holding us back from experiencing the Bliss and the Joy of Spring, a.k.a., Life.  After all, when is Life more sweetly beautiful than those first heady days of May?

For Lent, I give up feeling bad about myself because of All That Crap That Happened.  It’s The Light flowing through me that attracted AND TRANSFORMED All. Of. That. Dark.

I give up feeling somehow exempt from the very happiness I keep telling other people they’ve earned and deserve.

I give up mourning what was and I press on toward celebrating what is and what is no longer, thank God.

I’m ready – for the first time – to enjoy the season of Lent.

Re-Entry

Hello.  Yes, it has been a while.

That last post was hard to read, given the understanding I have three years later.  This post might be just as hard to read three hours from now.

I see myself going on and on and on and ON blaming myself for things that had squat to do with me.  I see myself going on and on and on and ON about achieving insight when I was really running further and further down the rabbit hole. 

Only someone who has studied psychology for decades can achieve that level of denial.

The truth is:  The night before I wrote the previous post – Thanksgiving evening -- “My Beloved” was physically violent.  For the first time.  Of course I thought it was all my fault.

Only someone that self-destructive can study psychology for decades.

For the last three years, a perfect storm of bad programming, deep-rooted psychological issues, corruption and Fate has raged through my life, leaving nothing familiar or recognizable in its wake.  It is by the grace of God that I am writing to you today.

I am writing to you today from a calm, albeit foreign, shore.  When The Wolf came to my door, I internally disconnected and let my body go through the motions of endurance.  I was in my mind for so long it is a real challenge to clean up and re-enter My Life.  In the first place, it took a long time to realize the storm had passed.  I do not know where or what “My Life” is.  In the second place, I spend most of my time looking over my shoulder, anticipating the next crushing wave.

It’s taken a lot of solitary, mind- and soul-numbing work to reconcile with myself after “allowing” all that I did.  It was an ever bigger battle to not descend further into the pit of self-destruction.  Forget “one day at a time” … it’s more like 10 seconds at a time.  I understand COMPLETELY why so few choose to face – let alone wrestle and conquer – their demons.  The chance of survival, much less success, is SO slim.

In some ways, my heart is more broken now than it was that Thanksgiving night.  One thing I still can’t integrate is how some people who were “close” to me are angry, bitter, hostile, resentful and just plain mean that I still stand.  People who I thought for *years* were on My Team turned out to be closet underminers, slowly, secretively chipping away at my confidence and self-esteem to keep themselves out of The Pit.  In addition to everything else, it was necessary to recognize The Underminers and negate their influence.  Emotional despots are not easily deposed.

So here I am today, re-constituted into an unrecognizable form.  As such, I begin to tell The Tale.