I have read a lot lately about how Mother's Day is such a letdown for most of us moms. All of our expectations, realized and unknown, surface on this one day and instead of being the source of great joy - cause us to meltdown. Some of us meltdown in obvious ways - crying, yelling, giving the silent treatment. Others of us meltdown internally - never letting on how disappointed we are in our children, our mates, our families. Every year we tell ourselves that next year will be different. Next year our children will be older, our spouses more in tune, our needs less desperate. Next year we will not feel guilty for needing something from the people closest to us that they don't seem to have to give. Next year...
Well, it is next year...already. Here we all wait, in anticipation - ever hopeful that our children will not ruin "our" day with selfish behavior or our spouse will step up to the plate and have given "our" day the reverence it deserves and put a lot of time and attention into planning out the perfect day for us. Reservations will be made - presents will be well thought out and lovely - flowers will be purchased - children will be talked to - we will be revered...finally!
It is a set up, you know? We all do it to some degree - for some of us the day is ruined before it ever starts and for others the day dies a thousand deaths all day long. In all, none of us get through the day without reopening an old scar. And exactly what is that scar from? Motherhood in general? Expectations? I can only speak for myself - and it is all of the above. Motherhood in general is way harder than I ever imagined. It requires more from me than I often have to give. Motherhood requires that I forget myself over and over again and for a selfish person such as myself this is repeatedly painful. And oh those expectations - premeditated resentments really is what they are. Those thoughts and feelings that I allow to percolate in my head over and over again unchecked. Thoughts and feelings that finally solidify into a belief system that is so far removed from reality that is borders on delusional. And so it goes -year in and year out.
Mother's Day is not the only time I am delusional. It happens all the time really. I am not psychotic but I am often in a full flight from reality. And I know why - it is because I was born believing that "things" should be different. From birth I just knew that I was supposed to have different parents, be raised in a different community, have different colored and textured hair, be taller and thinner, be more affluent and the list is endless. From the beginning, I have a mind that tells me things - tells me that what is occurring right now is wrong or needs to be changed. And so it has gone for a lifetime...until recently. I have recently come up against this belief that I have and been confronted with REALITY! I have to say that I do not like it at all. And while it is so painful to let go of this reality-less state that I have created in my mind - let it go I must or my life is truly not worth living. A bit dramatic I know but true nonetheless.
So this Mother's Day and the days that follow I am going to try to remember that whatever is happening right now is what is supposed to be happening right now. It is not supposed to be different. My only task is to accept it all EXACTLY the way it is and then move on from there. My children are not supposed to behave on this holy day any differently than they do any other day. My husband is not supposed to be a mind reader or devote all his time, energy and resources to making sure that on this one day I am happy and taken care of. That is not my husband's job - never has been - never will be. My happiness and well being is my responsibility and I do not ever get a day off from that reality. I am responsible for my own self care and for providing myself with what I need to be happy - every day.
I think for me I have bought into this advertised notion that on Mother's Day I get a day off from being a mom. That on Mother's Day I am magically transformed into a demigod to be worshipped and revered raised above the laundry, dishes and needs of others. I am not to be disturbed, bothered or upset. I am to be set free from domestic drama and drudgery! I am supposed to get a one day reprieve from being a wife and mother. Bullshit! That isn't going to happen - ever. My delusional belief about this and my insistent demands that all who surround me bow to the almighty MOTHER has to be smashed - I must be rid of it if I am ever to find peace.
Turns out that this year I got my Mother's Day gift 5 days early. It was yesterday after school. It was a gorgeous day and I took the time to attend to my own needs. I went to therapy, went on a long walk, helped a turtle cross the road - I paid attention to me and therefore I was able to be present for my kids after school. This was miraculous just by itself but it got better. We decided to swim. Just me and the kids. And for the first time in a long, long time my kids got along. They played together nicely. They enjoyed each other's company. They had fun. They laughed. And I got to be there. I got to see that. I watched from the periphery and soaked it all in. The sunshine, the familial harmony - the beautiful day. It only lasted 10 minutes but it was the best 10 minutes I have had in a long time.
I decided right there and then that I would take that 10 minutes and say that was enough for Mother's Day. 10 minutes of uninterrupted harmony in a home where there is so much chaos - was enough. I didn't need a card or gift or breakfast in bed. I made a decision that what my children gave me yesterday was priceless and it was enough.
So come Sunday I am off the hook and so are my kids and husband. They don't need to bow down to me and I don't need to be disappointed and sad that on this one day they aren't capable of honoring and thanking me for all I do for them. This Mother's Day is taken care of and I am sure that if I pay close attention I can be more aware of all the small 10 minute miracles that happen all the time. All the 10 minutes that my husband and children honor me and thank me for all that I do. This year I am not resentful and bitter - this year I am free. Free from expectations - societal, familial, personal. This year I am getting out of the way and expecting nothing. When I decide that I have already received what I want and deserve - my mind is free to move on. No longer tethered to martyrdom, I am free to enjoy the people that gave me the title. I pray that you can do the same.
Happy Mother's Day!!!
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
So much time and change and so little peace...
The only place to start is today...right here and right now. And for the moment I am ok. Nothing is hurting - emotionally, physically and spiritually I am fine. (Deep sigh of relief). This is not my usual state these days. Most of the time I am disturbed, irritable, despondent, fearful, angry, upset, restless, discontented and teetering on the brink of a breakdown. There are many reasons for my constant state of loosely controlled apathy -
It seems that my life is run by so many things outside myself. I get so lost in my days and so little time is spent focusing on my own needs that I forget that I have them until I snap. My child doesn't say thank you for getting him a drink, my husband gives me a look when I make a simple request. And I snap - I lose it. I react - badly. Then I am so far gone that I don't even stop to notice that I am gone...those are really bad days.
Have you been there? So far past the pier that the beach no longer exists? Adrift in my own ocean with no raft, no supplies...nothing but a lot of salty water and me. Oh and fear of what lurks beneath the tumultuous surface. I dare not look. I don't want to know what fate awaits me - an out of the blue shark attack from below, a tidal wave that I can see coming but cannot escape, or my muscle fatiguing at a far greater rate than my progress towards the shore that I know instinctively is out there somewhere. Fear grips me and I want to just give up. It is pointless anyhow. It is just a matter of time before I go under either from the failure of my own power or by a power greater than myself be it tidal wave or oceanic beast.
I have live in that ocean of Erin a lot. Way too much actually. It is one of the main reasons that I left California...willingly. I was swimming towards the shore but I couldn't orient myself long enough to settle on a course and then commit. I had a great life from the outside looking in but inside living it - it wasn't fun - it was hard and I was so tired. I was floundering in my own sea and finding small islands upon which to rest. And as grateful as I was for the brief rest from swimming in circles - I still thought that I needed to find a new course. So off I would go in a direction that was usually suggested by one of my many island visitors - but it wasn't my direction - it was theirs and so I never landed on my own shore. And upon the visitors shore I would try to make it mine. I tried so hard - I worked tirelessly. But very shortly I would either be visited by a new influence or arrive dissatisfied in my own conclusion and off I would swim again desperately searching for dry land that would provide me the safe harbor from my storm. I was so unhappy but so unwilling to let go. As is always the case with me, when my grueling swim to nowhere exhausts me completely emotionally, spiritually and physically then and only then do I surrender. I admit that I simply do not know what course to take - that I do not know if that safe harbor will ever exist for me and in that admission of complete defeat I am saved. But never in the way that I think I should be...
And as it has always been, I do not seem to have that inner core - that place inside that is capable of talking louder than all the other voices that surround me - that inner compass that directs me to where I am supposed to be. I have always had to flail around, swimming in circles. I wish it were different but it isn't. It is just how I am. I have to be going under for the last time before I will ask for help - universal help.
And so I went under for the last time and held my breath and prayed the prayer that only the dying and desperate know - please, please, please help me. The prayer that doesn't ask for a particular type of help, for the help to look a certain way - to come wrapped in a particular fabric or paper. Just for help in any way, shape or form. And just as it always has - help came.
The help that I received that day came in the form of blurting words from my mouth. I don't know why this seems to be the way that help comes to me but it is. Help came in that form when I came to after my last drunk - "I am going to AA today!" I blurted out from the backseat of a car to people who didn't believe me. And so it was. Alone - desperate - beaten into submission I went to my first meeting and began a very long road to recovery. On the more recent day - I had been in bed for 3 days unable to summon the will to dress, bathe or care about much of anything. I was confronted by my husband. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. When I said I didn't know - he wanted to know what I planned on doing about it. I again said I didn't know. He then asked, "What are we going to do?" Then the blurting words..."I think we need to move back to Florida!" and so it was. This time I was not alone - I dragged 12 animals, 2 children, 2 semis full of household goods and 1 husband - beaten and desperate back to a town I couldn't wait to get away from once upon a time.
So here I am in Tallahassee. A town that I hit bottom in 19 years ago. A town that has family, my favorite football team, people whose faith I envy but does not work for me, weather that I detest, bugs, rain, some old friends and a past. A town that I do not fit into at all. I am not southern. I am not Christian. I am not racist. I am not a meat eater or hunter. I am not most of what I see all around me. Yet somehow I am coming into my own. I found a home group that I love. I get to see and spend time with my mom and she helps me with my children and gives us desperately needed respite. I have a sponsee that I truly love and enjoy. I am back to seeing my therapist that helped me get sober 19 years ago. My children are in a wonderful private school that is helping them grow and learn in a safe environment. My husband has access to VA medical care and has the opportunity to rest when either one of us will let him. I am finding help from professionals to assist our son and in turn our family. I am sleeping well. I have a lovely home - plenty to eat and too much time on my hands.
I have many things to be grateful for (as always) and also have many things that I wish were different (as always). Some days, I can only see all the things that are wrong or need attention or should be different. Then other days, days like today where I see it all plainly, simply and it is all ok exactly as it is. Nothing is supposed to be different, nothing is wrong, nothing needs my attention. I have allowed myself the time to write. The time to be alone with my thoughts and breathe. The time to allow my soul to open and to pour out on the page. I need this - I always have. I think I started keeping a journal when I was about 6. Having a family has really curtailed my writing even though they give me so much material to write about. I say I don't have the time but the truth is I don't take the time.
And that is what I have learned today - time passes, things change and life will always leave me adrift in my own ocean - awash in the myriad of minute details and dilemmas of my choices - achieving little peace. Or I can hold my breath, allow myself to go under the stormy surface - collect myself - decide to accept all of it exactly as it is in that moment and then resurface often in exactly the same spot that I went under but with a new perspective that allows for universal will to guide me to my next safe harbor. And safe harbor has always meant surrender and acceptance to me. Surrender allows me get out of my way long enough to set a course in the direction of meaningful participation in my life and the lives of those about me and acceptance allows me to achieve peace one moment at a time.
- my child is a mess,
- my husband's health rubber bands between relatively healthy to not functioning on a sometimes hourly basis,
- my other child is struggling to read and keep the rest of us from dragging her down,
- we moved 3000 miles away from the place that I loved, my sponsor, my friends, my climate - where my ego believes I should live,
- we are out of money and I have no idea how we are going to find jobs when my
- husband isn't well enough and I have a more than full time job keeping everyone going and the home fires burning.
It seems that my life is run by so many things outside myself. I get so lost in my days and so little time is spent focusing on my own needs that I forget that I have them until I snap. My child doesn't say thank you for getting him a drink, my husband gives me a look when I make a simple request. And I snap - I lose it. I react - badly. Then I am so far gone that I don't even stop to notice that I am gone...those are really bad days.
Have you been there? So far past the pier that the beach no longer exists? Adrift in my own ocean with no raft, no supplies...nothing but a lot of salty water and me. Oh and fear of what lurks beneath the tumultuous surface. I dare not look. I don't want to know what fate awaits me - an out of the blue shark attack from below, a tidal wave that I can see coming but cannot escape, or my muscle fatiguing at a far greater rate than my progress towards the shore that I know instinctively is out there somewhere. Fear grips me and I want to just give up. It is pointless anyhow. It is just a matter of time before I go under either from the failure of my own power or by a power greater than myself be it tidal wave or oceanic beast.
I have live in that ocean of Erin a lot. Way too much actually. It is one of the main reasons that I left California...willingly. I was swimming towards the shore but I couldn't orient myself long enough to settle on a course and then commit. I had a great life from the outside looking in but inside living it - it wasn't fun - it was hard and I was so tired. I was floundering in my own sea and finding small islands upon which to rest. And as grateful as I was for the brief rest from swimming in circles - I still thought that I needed to find a new course. So off I would go in a direction that was usually suggested by one of my many island visitors - but it wasn't my direction - it was theirs and so I never landed on my own shore. And upon the visitors shore I would try to make it mine. I tried so hard - I worked tirelessly. But very shortly I would either be visited by a new influence or arrive dissatisfied in my own conclusion and off I would swim again desperately searching for dry land that would provide me the safe harbor from my storm. I was so unhappy but so unwilling to let go. As is always the case with me, when my grueling swim to nowhere exhausts me completely emotionally, spiritually and physically then and only then do I surrender. I admit that I simply do not know what course to take - that I do not know if that safe harbor will ever exist for me and in that admission of complete defeat I am saved. But never in the way that I think I should be...
And as it has always been, I do not seem to have that inner core - that place inside that is capable of talking louder than all the other voices that surround me - that inner compass that directs me to where I am supposed to be. I have always had to flail around, swimming in circles. I wish it were different but it isn't. It is just how I am. I have to be going under for the last time before I will ask for help - universal help.
And so I went under for the last time and held my breath and prayed the prayer that only the dying and desperate know - please, please, please help me. The prayer that doesn't ask for a particular type of help, for the help to look a certain way - to come wrapped in a particular fabric or paper. Just for help in any way, shape or form. And just as it always has - help came.
The help that I received that day came in the form of blurting words from my mouth. I don't know why this seems to be the way that help comes to me but it is. Help came in that form when I came to after my last drunk - "I am going to AA today!" I blurted out from the backseat of a car to people who didn't believe me. And so it was. Alone - desperate - beaten into submission I went to my first meeting and began a very long road to recovery. On the more recent day - I had been in bed for 3 days unable to summon the will to dress, bathe or care about much of anything. I was confronted by my husband. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. When I said I didn't know - he wanted to know what I planned on doing about it. I again said I didn't know. He then asked, "What are we going to do?" Then the blurting words..."I think we need to move back to Florida!" and so it was. This time I was not alone - I dragged 12 animals, 2 children, 2 semis full of household goods and 1 husband - beaten and desperate back to a town I couldn't wait to get away from once upon a time.
So here I am in Tallahassee. A town that I hit bottom in 19 years ago. A town that has family, my favorite football team, people whose faith I envy but does not work for me, weather that I detest, bugs, rain, some old friends and a past. A town that I do not fit into at all. I am not southern. I am not Christian. I am not racist. I am not a meat eater or hunter. I am not most of what I see all around me. Yet somehow I am coming into my own. I found a home group that I love. I get to see and spend time with my mom and she helps me with my children and gives us desperately needed respite. I have a sponsee that I truly love and enjoy. I am back to seeing my therapist that helped me get sober 19 years ago. My children are in a wonderful private school that is helping them grow and learn in a safe environment. My husband has access to VA medical care and has the opportunity to rest when either one of us will let him. I am finding help from professionals to assist our son and in turn our family. I am sleeping well. I have a lovely home - plenty to eat and too much time on my hands.
I have many things to be grateful for (as always) and also have many things that I wish were different (as always). Some days, I can only see all the things that are wrong or need attention or should be different. Then other days, days like today where I see it all plainly, simply and it is all ok exactly as it is. Nothing is supposed to be different, nothing is wrong, nothing needs my attention. I have allowed myself the time to write. The time to be alone with my thoughts and breathe. The time to allow my soul to open and to pour out on the page. I need this - I always have. I think I started keeping a journal when I was about 6. Having a family has really curtailed my writing even though they give me so much material to write about. I say I don't have the time but the truth is I don't take the time.
And that is what I have learned today - time passes, things change and life will always leave me adrift in my own ocean - awash in the myriad of minute details and dilemmas of my choices - achieving little peace. Or I can hold my breath, allow myself to go under the stormy surface - collect myself - decide to accept all of it exactly as it is in that moment and then resurface often in exactly the same spot that I went under but with a new perspective that allows for universal will to guide me to my next safe harbor. And safe harbor has always meant surrender and acceptance to me. Surrender allows me get out of my way long enough to set a course in the direction of meaningful participation in my life and the lives of those about me and acceptance allows me to achieve peace one moment at a time.
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