Hollow Times

It's flurrying outside my window. Thirty degrees with a cold wind blowing. The wind chimes have a hollow sound in the crisp, cold air. 

I've been feeling a bit hollow myself lately. Some struggles that have been intense. Intense in a different way than the childhood abuse issues that I know too well. I've been asking myself a lot of questions about choices and decisions I've made over the years. I've been thinking a lot about what I want from the future.

I haven't had any epiphanies or movie moment catharses, but I have been reminded again of my own strength. I've had to put into practice all the "training" I've been doing for the past years in therapy. I've studied situations and relationships. I've questioned my motives and desires. I've looked for and found evidence to support my reactions, but perhaps most importantly, I've been reminded, yet again, that secret keeping will kill you. Maybe not physically (although that is a possibility), but definitely emotionally. None of us were meant to live in a vacuum, and attempting to dwell there is a sure path to living death.

I've also been reminded that people are kinder and more generous than I imagine them to be. The abusers taught me that people can turn on a dime. I developed a "trust no one" mentality based on the actions of a few horrible people. That has led me to follow the same path in most of my relationships. And that is a lonely path. I've reached out this time, trusting that my circle of friends won't turn on me, and they haven't. They have lifted me up and supported me, with words of love and kindness and, well, support. 

I didn't mean to stop writing. Yet every time I tried to write it felt inauthentic. I've said before I write what I feel and experience. If what I'm feeling and experiencing is tied up in someone else's struggles I have difficulty sharing, because it's not all mine. 

The good news in all of this has been my ability to stand up for myself and have a good outcome. Everything isn't roses, but it's better. And it's true and real. 

A special thank you to my bestie for listening and giving humor, comfort, and advice. Also too, MLH in San Francisco for all the same and a chance to get out of town and have some fun. 

I hope I'm back to writing more regularly, because I missed it. 

Blessings.

Marriage, Commitment, and Survival

We sit in the counselor's office. We talk about 28 years of marriage. We are committed to each other, to God, to the marriage. Whatever the pc term is right now. We want the same things from marriage, but we keep hitting this wall where our conversations go in circles. Where we don't truly hear what the other is saying.

We are not heading for divorce. We just aren't in a good place right now. I want to feel that he has my back in the little things, and he wants the same thing. We're good on the big stuff. He's the first person I call or run to in a storm and vice versa. But the little day to day frustrations -- not so much.

She looked at us (this very young looking counselor) and said we should be proud. We are still together. Still trying to improve. Get closer. Even after all we've been through. We, our marriage, has survived.

And she's right. We have survived, but I want more, and so does he. We don't just want to survive. We want to thrive. We want to have joy in our relationship. I don't just want commitment. I want passion and real connection.

Commitment gets you through the hard places, so don't misunderstand. I KNOW commitment is vital in a marriage. 

I said I want him to be my best friend. I want to feel that I can say anything and know it won't change the fabric of our relationship. I want him to read between the lines, correctly. And I want to read between his lines as well. 

So we talk and we share. We hurt and are frustrated. And we keep dancing this imperfect dance of marriage.

Imperfect Prose

Imperfect Prose

I want to have something inspiring to share today, but instead I have a lot of stress and concerns about some highly personal things. Things it would be inappropriate to share here. Things that aren't just mine. 

It's a new year. The time for fresh starts and new beginnings. The hope of getting it right this year. Clearing rubble from relationships. What I seem to be facing instead, are new and deeper layers of ick to excavate. Things keep piling on top of each other, and I can’t seem to catch a break.

This may sound like I’m complaining, but that’s not what this is about. I’m not complaining. I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I keep thinking this life is meant to get easier. Develop a rhythm that is consistent and dependable. That hasn’t happened for me. And I don’t know if that’s a “me” problem or a “life” problem.

I don’t really believe my life should flow effortlessly. I recognize that the more people I know and the more fully engaged I become in life, the more opportunities there are for challenges. That being said, I’m floundering a bit right now.

I’ve written a lot about overcoming my past – the abuse. But I’m also a black/white kind of person, or as a friend of mine recently said, one extreme or the other. The question that’s been rolling around in my head lately is this – because things are difficult now, in this moment, does that negate the hard work – dare I say good work – I’ve done in the past? Does struggling now mean the previous hard work was done incorrectly, or worse yet was it pointless?

My head knows the answers to these questions. We all do the best we can at any given moment with whatever information we have. Could things have been done differently? Undoubtedly. Would it have been better or more right? Maybe. Who can say?

This is what I know today. God is with me. I must continue to see and believe that as truth. I will make mistakes in the future just as I have in the past. There are no absolutes.

So I’m asking for your prayers. For me, my husband, my kids. It’s tough when everyone is struggling simultaneously, and that’s where we are. My guess is you’ve been there, too.

Imperfect Prose is perfectly apt for me today.

Blessings.

linking up with Imperfect Prose

Baring the Soul

Writing is a baring of the soul. It's also a hiding of the soul, if I'm not careful. How much to share? What about others' stories? Do I share them as well?

I can bare my soul but only to the extent it doesn't unwittingly bare another's. Last night I got a message from another bare soul. I can't fix it. I want to write it out here and find solace and comfort for me and her. But it's not my story. 

So I lay myself bare on this screen. I tell you that I'm scared, and I'm angry, and I'm worried, and I'm hurt. And I only want what is best for her, but what about those boundaries I'm working on?

I lay myself bare and ask for prayers of healing for her. For comfort and peace and knowledge. But I ask all that for me as well, because I just want a normal life -- no drama, no crises, just happiness, rainbows, and sunshine.

Laid bare is where I find myself today.

linking up to five minute friday

Thankful Thursday #29

Today I'm thankful that yesterday is over.

Sometimes I look at my life in comparison to others' and wonder why I have such a difficult time.

Recently I've written about a lifelong friend who received that devastating cancer diagnosis (read more here). I have 2 other friends who are battling cancer, and this past weekend another friend had a lake accident that could have left her paralyzed. Blessedly she is recuperating from her 8 hours surgery and seems to be making good progress, but she has a long road ahead of her.

I am so sympathetic to these people. I am so impressed by their ability to handle their struggles with such grace, faith, and even humor.

Not so much me.

I feel as if I've been fighting a battle all summer and I'm tired and I want it to go away or at the very least end the way I want it to end.

Yesterday was another visit with another professional who gave me the same news I've been getting for months. This can't be fixed.

I know this intellectually. I even know it in my heart. The problem is it just makes me so sad and confused.

I will never have the relationship with these people that I crave; that I deserve. And they are missing out on so much while blaming me.

So today I'm thankful for my gracious heavenly Father who listens to my constant struggles and forgives me for being a slow learner.

I am thankful for my husband who is constantly at my side, helping along.

I am thankful for encouragement from others that I am not a crazy person, I just have some crazy-making people in my life.

But mostly I am thankful and praising God for the good news 2 of my friends received regarding their cancer and for the successful surgery on my other friend's back. I continue to ask that you lift up my friend, Sara, as I fear she may be losing her battle.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

linking up with Grace Alone