Tag: Mental Health

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Expedition Complete.

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me”
– Taylor Swift

Fauq… I’m lying here in bed unable to sleep, tears in my eyes and just a sense of, well, nothing. Granted yes, my serotonin levels are low and maybe this has become my new thing, blogging when my hormones get the best of me? I’m not sure what’s better, that or cutting my own hair? They both seem to happen that way. 

See, I just read my last entry and it made me tear up, but again, there’s nothing. Numbing almost. It has recently been brought to my attention, via an intervention of sorts, that I have been living in a state of avoidance and unintentionally inducing solitude and isolation. Yes, work has been crazy busy but not any busier than say, March, when I was working full time. I’m averaging 5-6 hour days 4 days a week and a few added hours every other weekend. But, because my hours are flexible, if I take time during the day to do something other than work, I still have to put in the time to get my stuff done. Thus, making it seem as though I really am working ALL. OF. THE. TIME! 

Then by the time I am done working I am exhausted; the kids being home on summer break while I’m working has been an event in and of itself. Not to mention my husband having his own crisis within his own mind and him just up and leaving for hours to play pickleball.

I want to blame my Cancer rising and Sagittarius moon for allowing me to put a wall up, to hide within my shell and ignore the world around me. And I could, but I still have to remember that there is light and shadow with everything and this reaction of hiding via my Moon & Ascendant is just a story I’m telling myself. Oh, yeah, I forgot to share: I’m now -officially- a >certified< astrologer and personal development coach, with an emphasis in positive psychology! ::bows::

So there’s that…

Anyway, so this hiding bit. I’m really not sure when it started but I’m pretty sure I know the trigger now that I have actually taken the time to look back. Mid May I went out to Connecticut for a work seminar of sorts and it was INCREDIBLE! It was also great to -finally- meet my bosses/coworkers for the first time, after working for TSE for 8 months and being a community member for 14! But, I messed up. Absent-mindedly, in the moment, I gave my cell number to a community member to text me something non-work related. Which, okay, that’s fine. However, 2 other community members saved my number and were talking about it with the big boss lady. I stepped over the workplace/personal boundary and it stirred up feelings of prior team members crossing said boundary in a negative way. I never meant harm but that was huge. Then I got back to Mi and was attacked with a 5mm kidney stone causing hydronephrosis (a fancy word for fluid retention in my kidney). It sucked! It came out of nowhere and I was needed for something for work, but I couldn’t do it because I was debating going to the ER. I had already taken a muscle relaxer and valium but it wasn’t cutting it. I never expected it to be a kidney stone as it presented itself [completely] different than any other stone I’ve had! I truly thought it was either my appendix or my ovary. 

It was a huge event week for us and there were some scheduling misunderstandings that made it appear like I wasn’t going to be working during important times, but I was!!! I take my job extremely seriously but with that recent mishap over trust and crossing the boundary, and the scheduling misunderstandings, and some stupid little mistakes I had been making while trying to learn/take over some things – it all piled up during a difficult time. 

After I ended up going to the ER I was told to take the week, heal and we’d circle back the next week. I knew something was wrong, especially after I reached out 3 times asking if I could show up for some things and was respectfully told to stand down. 

I.  Was. Gutted!! 

My job means everything to me and it was now on the line. That week was so incredibly difficult for me. Knowing just how busy this event was and the added stress my team was now under as a whole – made me sick. Not to mention how miserable the kidney stone made me, I had to miss Leighton’s choir concert, my dad & Igor’s birthday annnd plan, prepare, cross my fingers that I’d make it to Kellan’s FIRST real birthday party that weekend. If I had to miss it and let him down, with work being the way it was- I’m nauseous just thinking about it! OH, and it didn’t help that my in-laws were coming and would see my father for the first time since his diagnosis, which they knew nothing about. 

Ah yes, there’s the anxiety triggered tachycardia my heart knows all too well. ::takesdeepbreaths::

Two things I haven’t really discussed yet through my blog really. My in-laws and my father’s diagnosis. Now, my in-laws are a tricky subject because I need to tread lightly so as to not cross another boundary of speaking for my husband. I need to respect his feelings and not share more than what he’d want. But at the same time it is my blog, my truth and they are a big part of any issues that have been within my relationship, as you saw in [16.YearOne]. As for my dad, unfortunately he was diagnosed with a rare form of -Bulbar ALS- and it has been understandably difficult to witness. Now, I know he will be reading this and I don’t want to make him feel bad by any means, though it’s true, it is hard! Due to the nature of the relationship that I have with my daddy, I didn’t want my in-laws to find out because I knew how they would respond – or better, [lack thereof]. I knew that they would react in a way that would result in my being hurt and I didn’t want anything to do with it. So, we didn’t tell them and at the end of the birthday party, as they were leaving, they asked Igor what was “wrong”. He explained and they just said, >’oh’< and that was that. Never once have they mentioned it, asked anything about it, or even asked how he is doing since. I want to be respectful but it’s incredibly difficult to show respect for those who have zero respect for you and your family, their grandkids included. Maybe just saying this paints a picture for you without my needing to go into further details about them at this time? K.

Now that the vail has been broken and I am seeing what I had been avoiding, I’m drowning. It’s weird though, in the past when I have had a PMDD or depressive episode, I knew it. Without question, I knew when things weren’t right. Whatever it is that is going on now, I never realized it because I used a defense mechanism to completely wipe it all away. Breaking that wall down may have caused a flood but it’s absolutely still a struggle to consciously force myself to process things. And if I’m being totally honest, I’m not entirely sure how to. The only thing I can think of is to deliberately be time-intentional and make the effort to process, feel, heal. The only time therapy has worked for me was when I was working with a therapist who did basically what I do for a living, so I am unsure how a clinical therapist would help. Can’t forget to add on that I’m already in physical therapy 2-3x a week, see my doctor every 4-6 weeks, all the meds and supplements I take and don’t take but should take, it all adds up. I also know this is just a [money mindset problem] that can be altered but it’s difficult when again, your husband is battling his own money mindset battle and knowing that you’re taking away from something that he truly dreams of, isn’t an easy thing to face.

So, I work. 

I don’t believe that I have a work-life balance issue, but I can certainly see how some may think so just given the wall of isolation and avoidance. Plus, my job brings me >pure< joy!! So when it was on the line, hell yea I threw myself into it more, because if I wasn’t able to do the ONE thing where I ‘was’ [fully] confident in my capabilities, then what the actual fuck am I capable of doing? Hence why I didn’t recognize myself from the podcast. I was no longer confident and I needed to prove to my team, but especially myself, that I can do it! And I can. And I did! And then I stupidly pushed myself yesterday to try and get more done after I had walked away from work for the day, when I wasn’t in an ‘active work mindset,’ and made an oopsie. I am so mad at myself and was taken right back to May. Now, this oopsie wasn’t major but it certainly could have been and was super eye opening that when I’m done, I need to be done.

Annnnd now I see that maybe there is more of a balance offset than I truly believed. But again, it’s what makes me happy! Hell, no one can question my devotion after the fact I >turned down< -FREE- T.SWIFT Era tickets, due to the live intensive training for my life coach / personal development coaching certification!! I was literally SICK over it; I know I ultimately made the right choice but still cry and feel my heart is still broken a little bit. My love for Taylor is unmeasurable. I’ve been to 2 concerts and met her at one, I got lots of hugs and “I love yous” and it was one of the most incredible moments of my life, 13 years ago! 13!! HER number. I was 22 when I met her, MY number!!

…Okay, I’m getting sick again thinking about it. ::Pouts&TriesNotToCry::

Anyway, I’m not really sure where I was going with this entry when I first started writing it and therefore don’t really know if I spoke to everything I meant to as I finish it days later, but it’s an update! OH, and my boss’ book was just released, where I was interviewed and shared my story as one of the case studies for it; makes me kind of famous now, huh? Joking, kind of. It’s pretty cool though, nonetheless!!

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180°; still me.

“I recognize that a journey never ends, You think it’s over but the then it all starts again.” – Thomas Gold

So, I know that it has been forever and a day since I last wrote and/or made an entry, but today I felt inspired. Although, as I am sitting here I am drawing a blank for words. I see on my list of topics to discuss that I have my breastfeeding journey, postpartum, and PMDD still listed; though I am certain that I’ve written about the above in some capacity or another, at some point. But quite honestly, I just don’t have the desire to look back and see, so.. I won’t be citing other entries today.

Going down the path of rediscovery, finding The Sisters Enchanted – my life truly has taken a 180 in such a short amount of time. I knew that telling my story and being able to help others is what I am meant to be doing. That’s why I started this blog after all… I didn’t want anyone to have to feel alone. Then I came across a community that changed everything.

Don’t get me wrong, writing is still a passion of mine, just my time for it has dwindled. I haven’t made it a priority because that feeling of fulfillment that I always get from writing, I achieve almost everyday just doing my job! Not to mention, being >thee< customer service person and student support, I am writing every day while in communication with students and community members. I am able to share bits and pieces of my story, helping [right] in the moment.

I was recently a guest on our Expedition to Soul podcast at work, and it was that experience, plus a recent reading I had with a fellow community member that led me to this entry. If you’re interested in hearing my podcast episode you can do so [clicking here] or, if you’d prefer to watch the video version you can [click here]. Oh heck while I’m at it – if you’re interested in having a reading by one of our verified coaches/readers, Sharon Blue of Blue Empress Tarot is your girl!

When I watch my podcast episode I am flooded with a mix of emotions, as I not only -see- who I am today – I also don’t know that I truly recognize her, either. Yes, I am without question not the same person that I was a year ago, but if I’m being honest, I don’t know that I really am the same person with that same confidence that I was last August when I asked for a job and got it. I had finally gotten my shit together, got a job and then boom. All of my progress, all of my plans – out the window. I replaced being sick and using it as a crutch to now putting everything into my job and not being able to get anything else done. 

Now, yes, I have to remember that I did finally end up catching Covid before Christmas and yes, it was my greatest fear that it would cause a major setback and flair up… which, I thank my lucky stars that science is a thing and that I had had 4 vaccine doses by then, so my outcome didn’t turn out even worse! But… I did in fact have a flair up and it set me back. Not only did it set me back physically, but mentally as well. See, while sick with Covid I missed quite a few of my normal doses of medication, resulting in another PMDD spiral. NOT AS bad as 2020, but it wasn’t good. I knew the cause, I knew that it was because my meds were unregulated and I held hope that in 1-2 months things would be good again. Things did clear up some but it’s taking longer than I’d like. Without fail, each month when my progesterone rises, my serotonin plummets. <- Right now as I write this, it is one of those times. I also can’t forget that I am anemic and I suck at remembering to take my iron. Exhaustion doesn’t even begin to describe my inability to stay awake at different times throughout the month. Plus allergy season? Lets not forget that after a good solid 9+ months I was [not] full on passing out… then Covid happened. And the loss of remaining consciousness started up again. That confidence of getting out of the house and doing things by myself knowing that I was safe, is no longer there because I know that I’m not. The anxiety is slowly creeping back, anchoring itself, reminding me of the past yet again. BUT I have a job! I AM able to work! But that’s about it. The fear of letting my team down is there, beneath my belief in my ability to do the job. It’s  the ugly shadow that I have to continuously face time and time again.

But under it alI; I [know]… > I AM CAPABLE! <

Now, some more real talk… Breastfeeding is hands down one of the most rewarding, yet most challenging aspects during the first stages of motherhood. There is so much pressure and stigma involved, calling it an emotional roller coaster doesn’t do it justice. In fact, I can honestly say that I have never sacrificed so much of myself, more than I did for my Littles during our nursing journeys! I gave up my medication, sacrificing my own health and fought daily for their benefit. From the inability to latch due to premature birth and exclusively pumping for months, to dietary restrictions, lack of sleep, and even extending past the first year- not to mention it’s no secret the hardships we faced when it came to food/eating with the both of them. Simply put, breastfeeding is hard; one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Sure, as time went on and we got into routine it got easier, but still hard AF nonetheless! But you know what? I have zero regrets! It gave me purpose; I am eternally grateful that I was able to do that and provide them both with the nutrients they needed for as long as they did, which just so happened to be 15.5 months for L and 26.5 months for K! However, there’s one thing that needs to be discussed, because unfortunately, before it happened to me, I wasn’t aware it was a thing… post nursing blues, anxiety and depression. As real as postpartum depression is, ending nursing blues is just as real and hard. Oh my goodness is it awful! I experienced it with both, and much, much worse this second time around. Weaning Kellan took almost 4 months and it was my own personal hell. If you or someone you know may be experiencing it, your/their feelings are valid, and they’re real!  A mother’s love is like no other, our strength has no limits! 

I had been holding onto old frozen breastmilk with dreams of having a ring/pendant made of mixed milk from my breastfeeding journeys. I, being the procrastinator that I am, haven’t done a thing with it and Kellan will be 7 next month. Our basement freezer stopped working and I could only “save” so much. Instead of feeling heartbroken I decided to have a milk bath last week, releasing any and all trauma I’ve been carrying from my pregnancies, their births, postpartum, etc. With some visualization meditation, I used my milk as a reminder of how incredible the female body is through all of its stages, and to remember that things happen how they’re supposed to happen. I am in a different stage of life and in a way, this was like closing a chapter and rebirthing another.

This was the release I needed to see that I am that person in the podcast. I just need to remember that situations change and I have to adapt without expectations, so as to not feel as though I have failed or regressed. Life is a constant journey with lessons; changes are inevitable, but also necessary. It all goes back to Expedition to Soul where I assembled my allies: I am all versions of myself, past – present – & future – at all times. All versions of who I am/was/will be, make up all of me.

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Dearest Cuz…

“Accept the fact that some people didn’t intend to let you down. their best is just less than you expected.”
– Thema Davis

This entry is taking a little break from the norm. It is a more personal letter to someone, should they ever cross its path. It will come across as very vague to you unless you know the story, which respectfully is not my story to tell. I may have the new found confidence to blog (or pitch an article to the Huffington Post <- yeah; about that::NervousSideEyes:: ) but I just don’t have what it takes to send this letter myself, atm. I just needed to get it out.

Dearest Cuz,

I have so many things to say and no idea where to begin. It’s probably why I haven’t written to you yet. I’ve been told that I should share my feelings but I have been too bitter. Hurt. Angry. And probably even in denial over the sadness.

What could I possibly say that hasn’t been said before? What could I possibly say that won’t piss you off because you’re tired of hearing about it? What could I possibly say to keep your attention, to read through the anger that may arise? How about my feelings? Will my sharing my -own- feelings [matter enough] for you to “hear it again” but from a different angle? Enough to push past and actually get to the other side of what I need to say? I do certainly hope so, as I believe you have been terribly mistaken about things.

I know that you need help and have emotional issues to work through. I don’t say this bluntly to be harsh, I say it because it’s true; it needs to be said. I love you. I always have and always will, but I have a lot of feelings over various things that do tie together, while at the same time being entirely different. I know as with an addict, mental health also falls in the realm of, “you can’t help them until they’re ready to help themselves.” You are not well. I know you know this, but I also know that you’re not willing to do [everything] you can to actually get the help you need. I just pissed you off, didn’t I? I’m okay with that because it’s the truth. You claim you have tried, you claim that nothing will ever work, you claim that by moving forward you are sacrificing your own mental health. You used to also claim that family meant everything to you and that you would do anything for your family. Let me ask you… if one of those claims can change, why can’t the others?

Your own mental health is very important, I completely respect and validate that! I -know- that you are not well, but where I struggle to understand is why you have alienated yourself due to your own false narratives? Yes, I know mental health is complicated but by creating your own misconceptions, you’re not only hurting others, you’re hurting yourself that much more!! You didn’t give others the chance to be Switzerland, therefore it is not fair to play the victim! I was one of the “others” that you made the decision for. And it hurt. It still hurts. The hurt led to anger, and not addressing it allowed the anger to grow beyond myself and my own feelings. You made that choice, you caused it to happen.

Growing up we were like best friends. In fact, it was me and our relationship that your inpatient therapist believed was vital for your mental health. That you needed me in your life to get better. You were a member of my birthday party, yet you haven’t wished me a “happy birthday” in 5 years. The only time I ever hear from you (which is literally less than once in a blue moon) is when you’re complaining or need my help with something. Even then, never once do you ask how I or the boys are doing. I heard that my vague FB status, that just so happened to be on your wedding day, really hurt you. I won’t deny that it was about your wedding, but let it be known that it had >nothing< to do with -anyone or anything else- other than ::my own:: hurt feelings by you. Given how close we always were growing up, finding out that you had found your wedding dress via a Facebook status update, stung. Hard. And then to not even be invited to your wedding? Oh man, I can’t even hold back the tears as I’m writing this. I understand you were having something small, but not including me? I can’t even…

So yeah, I did write the following: “I’m too nice to actually follow through with whatever petty ideas cross my mind. I so badly want to act on them but I can’t bring myself to stoop to that level. So, this is my passive aggressive way of saying today is going to be haaaard keeping my mouth shut. But I’ll do it…”  I apologize that you were upset, but imagine if I actually told you my feelings that day; because by that point, the hurt and devastation left me with such anger that I had to say something. I never meant to cause any hardship on your “big day”, which is exactly why I left it so vague.

Where does this leave us now? I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix what has been broken when the piece that broke away doesn’t want to be mended. I’m here if you do ever decide to take that step, and of course I wish you well. By writing this letter, I release the sadness you’ve brought upon me.

All of my best through love and light,
– Jena

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Gratitude!

“What if today, we were just grateful for everything”
– Charlie Brown

Today I am in tears, in awe and left without words as I am filled with gratitude! Irony of course being that as a “writer” – blogger, you kind of need words. They are the essence of your work. For 8 years I have been writing my story, on and off, bits here and pieces there. But it wasn’t so much for others as it was for myself. An outlet to work through trauma. An outlet to uncover hidden darkness within my shadow. An outlet just to vent. Of course, the original copy shall probably be burned or buried as I wasn’t so discreet when it came to not exposing the truths of others. As I wrote, I just wrote to get it out. And when I say wrote, I literally mean pen to paper. It’s actually my preference!

I don’t remember what exactly inspired me to start typing everything up, but as I started typing I quickly realized that imminent changes were dyer. And by changes I don’t mean truths in to lies, but rather rewriting in a way that wasn’t so raw and exposing of others. I am an open book, ask me anything and I will share, however, I do respect others rights to their own privacy. Exposing oneself is one of the most difficult things you can do. It causes you to get to know yourself in ways that challenge every fiber of your existence. It’s not easy, it’s not even close to butterflies and rainbows, but it’s what allows you to discover the real you. It allows you to free yourself from any shame you may have felt at a given time!!

By owning your truth, no one else has power over you. You are no longer hiding in fear of what others may think. The important thing is that [you] know who you are and it’s a damn good feeling being free! Don’t get me wrong, I still want to throw up due to nerves for doing this, however, what’s been done is done.

Yesterday I made the big announcement, officially letting everyone know about my blog. Sharing what may have once been my secrets, now truths for the world to see. More or less my announcement meant that everyone I know: past, present and future, will discover more about me than they ever imagined. As you get older and make new friends, it’s not easy sharing your past. Adulting is hard enough; being worried what others may think of your past isn’t worth any self doubt! [Hell, realistically nothing is worth self doubt!!] Your past doesn’t define you, all it is, is previous chapters within your life’s story.

Anyone that knows me knows that somewhere along the way I lost any desire to talk on the phone. As a kid/teen I was always on the phone, now? My own husband gets mad when I don’t answer. If I’m not mistaken I have already explained this but I don’t remember where. Long story short: I get physically ill sometimes just talking on the phone due to anxiety. Due to not believing in myself and that I’ll say something wrong or babble and make no sense. Due to fear of being judged. Due to past trauma that left me broken. Since gaining the confidence and strength to publish this blog, I have noticed that talking on the phone is getting easier. I am able to make important calls without even thinking, where I would once need to ground myself into just the right frame of mind. My cousin joked just last week that, “you know life is wild when Jena calls you on the phone twice in one week.” It was then that I realized I wasn’t as affected by it.

I actually just had a zoom call with a ::complete stranger:: and never once did I feel beneath them. I wasn’t even nervous leading up to the call until just minutes before. I quickly grabbed my Light Seer’s deck and pulled the King of Cups; I was instantly grounded and reminded of my worth! (If you are unfamiliar with tarot, click here to read and learn more about this specific card and maybe you’ll understand how it saved me in the moment!) After that zoom call I was on cloud nine… then broke down.

I am humbled by the numbers I’m seeing today. How many of my friends and family actually took the time to check my website out, even if only to lurk without reading a single post. I cannot begin to explain how astounding it feels knowing that what I am doing is worth it. I have always said that, “if my story can help even just -one- person not feel alone, then I have met my purpose”. This journey of self discovery [in Awakening] has changed me within my core. Between that zoom call, all of the words of encouragement and positive feedback I have received in regards to my blog, >>I am sitting here realizing that I myself, just may even be that -one- person!<<

With hugs, love, light, and many blessings, I thank you!!!

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13. Survivor – edited*

“From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, -I survived.” ― Fr. Craig Scott

I know that I haven’t finished discussing my past with Kevin [09. First Love] but we’re just going to skip forward some. It’s not that I won’t or don’t want to talk about him, I just feel like there’s more to share that explains {why} I am me. Or rather, how I’ve gotten to where I am? I don’t know, whatever.

There are 2 relationships post Kev – well, maybe not exactly -post- but we weren’t “together” and he was away at college getting accustomed to his new life as a freshman basketball player. So what’s the best way to move on? Rebound. Not that I was exactly looking for a rebound but getting to know someone else didn’t hurt in helping me forget about Kevin. Although that relationship may not have hurt helping me get over Kev, it definitely hurt and left its mark for years to come. Here’s a definite altered name because he doesn’t deserve to be called anything other than, Asshole. Our relationship may have only lasted 3 months but it’s amazing how one can emotionally abuse you so much that you’re forever altered after such a short period of time. * EDIT [When you are emotionally abused you do things and put up with things that you wouldn’t normally accept. Emotional abuse can and -often does- lead to other forms of abuse. I choose to use “emotional abuse” as my umbrella term as it’s easier to discuss and how it >often begins<]* How did this happen? My only guess is that I was so vulnerable after Kevin went away to school that my guard and standards were dropped.

*🚫➡️ To better understand emotional abuse please visit: Here
*🚫➡️ If you or a loved one are a victim of domestic violence,
contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 for
confidential assistance from trained advocates.

I had only been diagnosed at Mayo [06.HS/Diagnosis] just a few months prior and was still corresponding with my diagnosing doctor via email. All of my important notes, results, suggestions – everything and anything that I needed to share with my doctors back home, teachers, everything – were saved in an important file within my email. In a stunt to show control, Asshole hacked in and deleted EVERYTHING! Not -just- my medical folder, but he wiped clean my entire email account, to nothing… Remember now, I am only 17 at this point and to technically have a yahoo account you needed to be 18 at the time (has that changed?). Not that an 18 year old would know any better how to rectify the situation but my mother got a hold of customer service so fast that even The Flash would have had whiplash! Buuuuut unfortunately there was “nothing” they could do, once things are deleted from the trash, they’re lost within the back hole of cyberspace.

Looking back now, I’m sure Jack could have figured out a way to retrieve everything as his hacking skills are essentially what granted him a free masters degree that lead to some significant cybersecurity jobs. It’s always been a running joke that he actually works for the government but can’t tell us. He gets SO mad whenever anyone mentions it. He may be a phenomenal bullshiter, using words intentionally to go above your head so you have no idea what he’s saying and end up just going with it, but a gut feeling is a gut feeling and this gut feeling says otherwise! Ha, Ha.

Anyway, it was this stunt that got my parents involved and I was finally able to break away from the grips holding me prisoner. I am not exactly sure what happened, I may have a fantastic memory but I’ve certainly tried to block A-hole out, but I do remember him calling me late at night while I was at my dad’s so mad, that my dad took the phone from me – letting this guy have it, threatening to call his parents and tell them everything while also getting a restraining order. He may have been 18 but he still lived at home and had his parents fooled. It only took that one threat for him not to contact me again… until spring break [11. Childhood Friendships+] about 18 months later. I have NO idea how this guy found out, but apparently he joined the military and was stationed in FL at the time I was there. I received a call from a number I didn’t know so obviously I ignored it. Hello!? Who actually answers random numbers from out of state area codes?!?? I then received a text message from the same number that shook me to my core. It didn’t say who it was, but > I knew <. It was something along the lines of how I’m not a child anymore and that since we’re both in the same state, and area at the same time we should get together. That it had been long enough that I [shouldn’t] still be upset and that I was an adult now and didn’t need Daddy to protect me.

BreAthE…

See? I meant it when I said it shook me to my core!! I was at the strawberry festival at the time, not somewhere I had even planned on going, it was a last minute thing with Sheri’s parent’s. Nowhere was it posted online, nothing. Wherever we were, it wasn’t far from him and I still get chills when I think about it. How? How did he know? After all that time, new phone number, what? I never responded and as soon as we told Sheri’s parents what was up we booked it out of there! He never tried contacting me again, until he congratulated me via a FB message on my engagement, over 2 ½ years later. Uh, HARD BLOCK! I knew him during the Myspace craze and my FB wasn’t even under my real name at the time. What THE ACTUAL fuck?!!! It’s been 12 ½ years and THANKFULLY the universe has been beside me and I haven’t heard from him since. He lived in Royal Oak, which just so happens to be one of the top locations for adult nightlife. There is so much to do down there even during the day, but I get paralyzed every time I go there. For years, I couldn’t. Even just getting off the exit to go to the Detroit Zoo was the same and caused extreme tachycardia. Has it gotten easier over the years? Yes. Am I still affected each time I head to Royal Oak? Yes. I don’t wish anyone ill, but I also wouldn’t shed any ounce of sorrow or tears if something happened to him.

He broke me.

Which is what sent me to someone SAFE, comfortable. Someone I trusted and truly cared about. Someone who pined over me for years. Someone my mom really cared for even when we were just friends, though she always wanted more for us. Do you remember the time I kissed a guy on the bus, on the 3rd day of freshman year? If not, meet Christopher [09.First Love]. Oh Christopher… See, I [believed] he was someone safe, comfortable and trustworthy; but he shattered my heart. Unbeknownst to me, he was an addict. He too joined the military and leading up to his departure we were much closer and from my understanding, together. This was somewhere around March-May 2006 I believe? His family knew me, I was in contact with his parents (mostly his mama) while he was at bootcamp. I helped set up his welcome home party, was driven to and from said party by his dad and step-mom. They believed I was his gal, until this other girl showed up bouncing off the walls so excited and introduced herself as his girlfriend to everyone… jaw meet floor. The confused looks we all shared, it was almost a pin dropping silence within our own little bubble. At one point his cousin asked who she was, then looked at me and said, “I thought you…” I cut her off and replied, “am the best friend” with a shrug. At one point they left together and when he came back, she was gone. He told everyone he didn’t know why she thought that but that she had left. Other than that, never once did he try to rectify the situation and barely even apologized to me. It took every ounce of strength that I had not to cry.

Later that evening I received an email from his mom apologizing for his actions, that she was in disbelief herself and so disappointed in him. She promised to talk to him and make him get in touch with me. So, even later that evening I received an instant message (ayy A.I.M.!) He just kept apologizing and telling me how much he loved me and was going to make it up to me. Saying all of the right things, right? We only got a chance to talk at night due to work and school/whatever else goes on in the service post bootcamp, oh and a mini deployment. For nearly a year, I genuinely believed in our relationship. He would [half jokingly?] ask me when we were “getting hitched”, even gave me a date; blah, blah, blah. So no, we were never really engaged but from my understanding, rather serious!!

Then one day in November 2007 I got an email blast announcement, announcing and congratulating the newly married couple… Wait, what? Yeah, that’s exactly what I said and thought, too. I was so confused and angry that I sent a message I should have probably waited to send until I had some time to cool off. He of course wrote me back not understanding why I was so upset. That he’d expect me of all people to be happy for him, that he loved me so much, -> wait for it…

[I was like a SISTER!]
Boom! Mic dropped!! I’ll let you digest that for a moment…

Are you fkin’ kidding me? I didn’t even know what to say. This had to have been a joke, right? Like, this isn’t real life. I have hours and hours of saved messages, letters, texts… a sister? GTFO! My mom was just as devastated as I was. I quickly blocked him and refused to talk to him. There was nothing left to be said!!

My heart was shattered. Literally shattered.

It didn’t help that Kevin had started dating a girl, thee girl that caused most of our issues at the end (well not the real, real end, but I guess in a way it was because of her that we are officially no longer in each other’s lives at all, just not at that time). Hello mental rollercoaster, we meet again… Chris’ mom emailed me a few weeks later checking in and seeing how things were going. The nerve, right? No, I get it, she genuinely cared and wanted to see how I was doing, but also why I wasn’t talking to Christopher. So, I wrote her back, attaching just a fraction of the conversations I had saved, but enough for her to see why I believed we were legitimately, seriously, together still. Ha. The ironic thing is, I don’t even know if we were ever really technically together.

If you remember, I mentioned Christopher was an addict, yet I had no idea. His mother called me so fast, so angry and disappointed in him that she wanted more details. She was in complete disbelief. She had no idea her son was even capable of doing what he did. Apparently she let him have it and he tried reaching out because he was confused. All I had to say, or rather show, was the middle finger to my phone as his name appeared. <- I had a bad habit of not deleting anyone’s numbers. ::shrugs:: I didn’t have anything to say to him and ignored all his efforts. BTW that marriage was over within months, maybe even weeks, if I’m not mistaken.

I met my husband about 3 months later with a high, high guard up. But I’ll explain our story another time. After about 8 or so months Chris was going to be in town and really wanted to get together to talk. Having met Igor I was in a better place to try and listen. As I was still ignoring him however, he reached out to me via his mom and I told her that if he was serious, then for him to call me when he was back in town… Yeah, that call never happened. THEN a little over a year later he reached out :again: and firmly made it known that it was imperative that I give him a chance to explain himself. That he had so much to say and that “I more than anyone deserved an apology in person.” Uh… Igor and I were in such a great place that I was conflicted and concerned for his feelings about my meeting up with Chris. Like, this would be the first time in close to 2 years since we’ve actually spoken. I didn’t want Igor feeling concerned or anything but I knew he trusted me and when I asked him permission (and no, of course I knew that I didn’t {need} his “permission” – it was more about showing my respect for his feelings!) he didn’t sound too happy but knew that deep down, I needed this closure in order to really move on and heal. He told me that he’d respect my decision either way but deep down I knew he was on eggshells. Little did I know, the same day that I asked Igor about my getting together with Christopher, was the same day he received what he hoped would be my engagement ring…

We made plans to meet for lunch a few days later. He wanted to come to the house but Mom didn’t think she was ready to see him, given everything. So we planned to meet at a local diner where I waited, and waited, and as it turned out – that day became the first and last time that I have EvEr eaten by myself at a restaurant. Fker stood me up!! Seriously?! I was beyond fuming at this point when I received a call as I was driving home. He called beggggggging me to meet up with him right then, claiming he slept through his alarm because his phone died or something, who the eff knows. I was too weak to say no, and ultimately I’m -glad- that I didn’t, but part of me wishes I was strong enough to have just said, “F.U.”

Igor was right, I needed that closure. I knew that our relationship was progressing but in order for me to fully drop my wall, to be authentically raw and 100% vulnerable in my love and trust for him, I needed this.
I’ll admit, it was hard seeing Christopher at first. He’s always had this charm and charisma about him that no one can withhold smiling back when he smiles at you. I kind of hate him for that, joking::notjoking:: He told me first and foremost that I deserved so much more than an apology, that there are no excuses for his actions and that he hated himself for the hurt he had caused me. He loved and respected me too much, to not apologize and explain himself in person. He knew that nothing he was going to say was going to fix or make things better, and that he would understand if I still held resentment, though of course hoped I wouldn’t. He really wanted to apologize to Mom but he understood and asked me to pass his sincere apologies on to her. It was this conversation where I learned about him being an addict. That he was so messed up in the evenings that he couldn’t recall half of our conversations. Essentially, our entire “relationship” was while he was under the influence and he was basically living a double life without realizing it. You smell bullshit, right? Cause, same! The more we talked, the easier it got to see his side of things and my wall of anti-trust was starting to crumble. That said, forgiving and forgetting are two very different things. I could feel the genuine sincerity behind his words and forgiveness crept in. I told him about Igor and he claimed that he had never seen my face or eyes light up the way they do when I talk about him. He could tell how truly in love I was and apologized that he couldn’t be that person for me. He was thrilled for me because I deserved better and that until he was in a good place with himself, that he couldn’t be that person for anyone; he knew he had a lot of work to do.

Saying goodbye to Chris was easier than expected. We hugged and went our separate ways. I called Igor as soon as I got into my car and started bawling… Ha, I can only imagine what must have been going through his mind at that second seeing as he had just gotten a ring for me days prior. The tears I shed were relief, forgiveness, happiness, hopefulness, and so much more. I was relieved that the weight of all this negative energy was lifted off my shoulders, I was able to forgive and kickstart my healing to truly move on and leave it all in the past, and for that -I was happy-! Most of all, I was hopeful for my future with Igor. Meeting up with Christopher was exactly what I didn’t realize I truly needed. I was at peace; and within just a few short hours:

I was also engaged!!

{I wanted to end this post with that very last sentence, but I felt it necessary to give an update: It took a couple more years but he finally did it! If I’m not mistaken, I believe he recently celebrated 9 years of continuous sobriety. He has since married and had children. Which, of course, is great but honestly? I care more about the fact that he went on to achieve his bachelors degree and then even his masters! He was able to attain his ultimate dream of becoming a professional sports reporter and is currently a director of public relations and broadcasting! I could not be prouder or happier for him and his success!! You know the whole “once you love someone you always will” thing I keep mentioning? It’s true, I do love Christopher; but something  I have come to realize as the years have passed and with the help of therapy, is that after Asshole, I went for safety. Chris had always been special to me, [a true friend], even though he always wanted more for us. I never could love him the way that he wanted/needed, the way that I had loved Kevin or my husband. Maybe deep down he always knew that. While this is speculation, I believe that what transpired could very well have been his own subconscious way of protecting the both of us. It sucked and hurt so much at the time, but looking back, I wasn’t being fair to him to begin with. Maybe that’s why saying goodbye to him was easier than I had expected. Subconsciously I knew that I loved him fiercely, but only ever at arms length as a true friend.}

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Exhausted.

When you’re tired of, well… everything and you’re stuck in limbo, it’s really difficult staying motivated to be productive. So much planning, so many ducks needing to be lined up exactly in the perfect row, so much packing, so many unanswered questions, so many decisions needing to be made… like I don’t mind doing the above, it’s trying to care to do everything else that’s the problem.

I hate clutter, it drives me crazy, overstimulates and triggers my anxiety. I become paralyzed from being overwhelmed due to my ADHD. <- Is it still considered hyperactive as an adult when you certainly don’t have the energy to even think about being hyper? The problem is, no one else seems to be bothered by any of it. So unless I am on top of keeping everything organized and put away, it sits. Until I do it.

I’m exhausted.

I get it, my husband works all day and he shouldn’t be in charge of everything else, too. We’re supposed to be a partnership, but when I’m sick – he’s on single dad duty and I >know< how much more that adds to his plate. It’s not fair to him, I agree! And he does help out keeping on top of the dishes, garbage and our cat’s litter box on his own, but maybe picking up a dish or cup off the kitchen table when they’re not in use wouldn’t be so bad? Again, I get it, he has so much on his mind for work, bills, trying to maintain my love language’s bucket, etc. that his brain is preoccupied. I get it. I do! But is it really that hard to walk your soda can over to recycling instead of leaving it anywhere else? Or leaving their socks right where they take them off? (Ha. I know most wives feel me on this one! Husband’s too, I’m not excluding any significant others; I just tend to hear more about it from wives. ;-p) And NO, this isn’t a passive aggressive way of harping on him, these are examples of conversations previously had. It should also be noted that while we are a partnership, he is hardwired from generations of “women take care of the household and children” coming from a Russian culture. He absolutely believes it should be a partnership but I am the one home, so when I’m not sick it should be more on me. Again, I agree!!!

Though it doesn’t change the fact: I’m exhausted.

Then there’s the kids who, well anyone who’s had children or been around them for any amount of time, understands how they’re mini tornados that don’t care what they leave in their wake. Kid’s are the worst when it comes to all things clutter. I mean, my oldest has admitted he doesn’t like cleaning his room (what child does?, besides my Lori-Lou [02. & 11.]) as he too has extreme ADHD, so the overwhelming thoughts of where to begin, I understand. However, there is also legitimate truth behind his thriving in the organized chaos he creates.

Just looking into his room, I’m exhausted.

It’s been 2 years of ciaos due to the pandemic and the battles between masks and vaccines. The weather cannot make up its mind so the constant switching of barometric pressure causes any dysautonomiac [06.HS/Diagnosis] their own personal hell! It’s hard enough just to get out of bed some days. Going through hormonal changes in your thirties, more unanswered health questions for why I’ve gained 25lbs in the past year. And now Russia is initiating what could very likely result in World War 3?

I’m exhausted.

Why bother organizing and putting everything away when you are just going to be demolishing their homes, at an unanswered time? Planning a kitchen remodel/new flooring is exhausting, but I enjoy it. I’m just struggling to find the motivation to clean up the clutter when I know my house will be -organized chaos- in hopefully >fingerscrossed:knocksonwood< short order. But with the pandemic and what Russia has just done to Ukraine, all uncertainties are even higher up in the air. Looking around and seeing all the… stuff, not only overstimulates and triggers my anxiety and overwhelms me to the point of paralyzation, it exhausts me.

I. Am. Exhausted.

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Awakening

“The vast majority of adults have never met themselves.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

This next paragraph is what I was initially referencing in my [husband appreciation] post. Where the “—– I have no idea where this is going to fit, however I need to write so I’m writing.” quote came from:

*Back in April 2006 I wrote: “Lately there are times I find myself escaping reality, with hopes to avoid the hardships life brings; and I end up looking away from my goals because I forget to believe.” <– Holy Hell! It’s been 16 years and I’m pretty sure this has been on repeat ever since I first wrote it. It’s actually fucking sad that It’s still relateable… I have worked so damn hard on myself a few times over these past 16 years only to be smacked in the face by my own ghost. What even were/are my goals? I know that I am not living the life I wanted, I’m barely living at all. The thing about always being in fight or flight is the reality of only knowing survival mode. I wonder if I’ll add this <-^-> to my blog/book/whatever TF it ends up as. <- [Evidently I chose: Blog…] Every time I end up in a good place I’m shortly knocked back down. Like, how terrible must I have been in a previous life? This isn’t about learning at this point. I’ve learned gratitude and strength and all that bullshit. There is literally no point as to why I have to deal with this time and time again! Effin’ A!*

^ That said, I have recently entered a new phase, er, [season] if you will, that has left me lost and unsure of what comes next. After I was diagnosed with PMDD things were under control for about a year, until they weren’t. Out of nowhere I spiraled and things went dark, very dark. And scary. FAST! I am so grateful for knowing myself and after years of therapy, that I was able to recognize that I needed intervention and I sought it right away. It took time and the right medication dosage/ combination but I found peace within my mind. I love self-help workbooks, answering questions about myself or how I’m feeling. I guess (and I’m realizing this right now as I type this) that I enjoy writing. Like truly enjoy sharing my truth whether just for myself or whatever, putting pen to paper has always been my go to without realizing it. I like details and therefore like providing details. Interesting… Maybe this is my calling and what I’m meant to do after all. Good thing I started it, huh?

Anyway, ::tangent over:: part of my reaching out for help included asking my therapist if she knew of any workbooks that would allow me to work on myself. More importantly, allow me to find myself, as I had been lost in the sea of -everything else but Jena- for far too long. I didn’t know who I was outside of being a wife, Mom, sick. I knew that inorder to find joy and work through this severe episode of PMDD, I needed to find the missing piece to fill the void in my heart. The void I didn’t really know existed until I realized how empty I was. Michaelene recommended The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook: A Proven Way to Accept Yourself, Build Inner Strength, and Thrive by Christopher Germer and Kristin Neff. OHEMGEE I believe everyone and their mother needs to get this workbook! Of course by ‘mother’ I just mean everyone, because just do it. You’ll thank me later, I know from experience…

But seriously, after only a few chapters into this thing, I felt like an entirely new person. But I wasn’t someone I didn’t recognize or someone else entirely.

No – I was me.

I found a part of me that had been suppressed for most of my life, especially my adult life. It’s honestly mind blowing when you have these crazy revelations let me tell ya. The whole “light bulb” going off feelings is legit. Everything is illuminated in a way you didn’t even know was possible. However, while things were starting to unfold I was still not getting to the true bottom of WHO I really [AM], not just who I had buried… So, since workbooks are my jam, I started to research what other books were out there and came across Becoming Who You Are  – A Workbook For Self Discovery + Transformation by Danna Yahav. All I can say is, WOW! SO many rabbit holes to go down, so much unpacking needing to be done. I thought my mind was a crazy ADD spiral of endless loops and turns to begin with, but dannnng. A LOT of mind bending, explosive, endless, rabbit holes. I have also fortunately connected with the author via social media and she affirmed my >bravery<, which I didn’t realize I needed to hear until she said it. <3

With all of the above said, while I love and HIGHLY recommend the mindful self-compassion workbook, if you find yourself on your own {spiritual} quest for discovering yourself, Danna’s workbook is exactly what you need. Just be forewarned and prepared, ha. However, thanks to this specific workbook I am discovering so much about how the lunar cycles in whichever sign it’s passing though actually resonates with me; and thanks to the daily logging I am finding that I am holding myself accountable a lot more and gaining even more confidence to say “EF it, I’m doing it!” In fact, It was through working with this workbook that pushed me to finally start publishing my blog posts publicly!

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10. Twin Flame

“When connections are real, they simply never die. They can be buried or ignored or walked away from, but never broken. If you’ve deeply resonated with another person or place, the connection remains despite any distance, time, situation, lack of presence, or circumstance… If it was truly real, you’ll be instantly swept back into the moment it was before it left- with the same wonder and hope, comfort and heartbeat. Real connections live on forever.”
– Victoria Erickson

Let’s talk friends. A not so smooth transition I know but I don’t know how else to discuss them as I’m writing this kind of chronologically. Let’s just see how it goes…

I think I need to start with Marion. My Mary-Kathrynn, June Bug and Moe. Marion and I met when we were 2 when my cousins’ lived in the house across the street from her. Mom actually ended up buying the house from my uncle after the divorce so I grew up across the street from her from ages 4-21. Our friendship has been nothing short of a roller coaster. Are you familiar with the concept of “twin flames”? I know I briefly mentioned it when talking about my Mom and Maria but, if you are not familiar with it, let me explain…

Sarah Regan wrote in her article, What Is A Twin Flame? 11 Signs You’ve Found Your “Mirror Soul” that, “every relationship has something to teach us and twin flames are often considered the ones that will teach us the most. A twin flame is an intense soul connection with someone thought to be a person’s other half, sometimes called a “mirror soul.” It’s based on the idea that sometimes one soul gets split into two bodies. One of the main characteristics of a twin flame relationship is that it will be both challenging and healing. This is due to the mirroring nature of a twin flame; they show you your deepest insecurities, fears, and shadows. But they also help you overcome them and vice versa—your twin flame will be equally affected by you.”

Marion and I may have lived across the street from one another most of our lives, but we weren’t always on the best of terms. And it’s not even that we were necessarily fighting, we just drifted in and out from each other’s lives for various reasons. She too was a victim to life with an alcoholic parent and she spent a lot of time at my house. I consider Lauren my sissy-poo but I’d be lying if I didn’t see Marion as one at times. It wasn’t until recently that I came to the realization that she’s without a doubt my twin flame. Our friendship had its challenges but when push came to shove, we were always there for eachother when we needed one another the most. I still have numerous cards and notes from her over the years expressing how we may drift but she’ll always come back to me. And it’s true, she does.

In high school we had completely different friends. She and Jessie did not get along, at all. I don’t know if it was insecurity or jealousy but if I was playing with one and the other showed up at my house unannounced, one would end up leaving. <- Is that even still a thing? Do kids still just show up at their friend’s houses like it’s their own home? My kids barely want to play with their friends outside of school so I have no idea what’s common these days. Ha. Her and my brother had some weird thing for each other and while I know I wasn’t innocent, sometimes her behavior left me concerned. She started dating this guy that I did not get along with. 5 years later they were briefly engaged and I’m so glad she dodged that one! In fact, this same guy told the new girl in 8th grade (during the summer when they met) not to talk to some girl by the name of [insert my name here] because of how much of a bitch she was. During first period on the first day of school I noticed someone new and I went and introduced myself. Some bitch, huh? I let this poor girl go on and on about what he said and she couldn’t get over how kind I was for taking the time to welcome her. Our teacher started doing attendance and when my name was called, I’m fairly certain she went through every shade of red imaginable. Talk about inserting your foot into your mouth. Ha, ha. Luckily for her I’m not the bitch she was told to fear and we became really good friends!

So yeah, it’s kind of hard to maintain a friendship with someone when they are dating someone who was really butt hurt because you turned them down in 6th grade. Good grief. Then there was the time when she came to my brother for weed and I told her mom. ::hides face:: Okay, I did it out of concern, not out of spite. Like  I said, her behavior really started changing over night and I didn’t recognize her anymore. Annnd Kevin may have had a hand in convincing me. Him and Marion didn’t really get along either because she didn’t like how I’d let him back into my life after all the hurt in the past. But also, maybe I was a bit jealous over her new friendships and subconsciously projected it as concern? Idk. All I know is that it was a huge mistake that cost us almost 2 years without speaking. It wasn’t until our graduation parties that we started to rebuild our friendship that turned into the best time of our relationship. From 18-24 we were on the best of terms and I didn’t think anything could break what we had built. She was at my college commencements when I walked across the stage for the first time and she was my maid of honor at my wedding. However, unfortunately, that didn’t last. Once again, the tumultuous relationship between twin flames.

Things started to go downhill when I was pregnant with my oldest. Her husband had recently been deployed right around the time I found out I was expecting. It was very difficult on her and I wasn’t able to be there for her as we both would have hoped. I didn’t realize things were as bad as they were because she never told me. I was SUPER sick during that time and I couldn’t really do much of anything. I couldn’t drive and we lived about an hour away from one another at that point. She slowly started pulling back as depression took over. She had a lot of attitude with my mom over throwing my baby shower and hit below the belt a time or two. It was rough. It was especially rough when my son was born a month early and my bff was nowhere to be seen. He’s 9 and they’ve never met…  in fact, I have only seen her in person 4 times since my baby shower. Her father’s funeral 2 years later, her mother’s funeral 4 years after that, a few months after her mother’s passing we met up to talk about everything that had happened, and then again for dinner this past summer, 3 years later. Her not being around was so incredibly difficult and heart breaking for me, but just like any twin flame relationship – I grew and learned so much about myself during that time, it was almost necessary. I couldn’t be who she needed me to be and I have since learned that neither could she, for me.

After her dad passed I had so many mixed emotions about going to pay my respects, but there’s no way I couldn’t not go. I may have been hurt by her actions but that doesn’t take away from the hurt she was experiencing. At the time I didn’t know they had the chance to reconcile so going into it my heart was that much heavier for her! It was good to see her but after we left my husband asked me if I hoped anything would come of this and I honestly didn’t care if they did or didn’t. We didn’t talk again until she called to tell me of her mother’s passing. I had suspected something as I was still friends with her sister in law on Facebook but I didn’t know for sure. I about threw up when I saw her name appear on my phone. I didn’t want to answer but I knew I had to. My grandfather had just recently passed so I was especially a mixed bag of emotions. I was sad for her when I heard of the passing of her father, but hearing that her mother had died, cut me deep.

Being there, seeing her family, talking to her mother’s childhood best friend about how good it was to see me there or Marion. It was a lot. But in that moment I knew that it was time. It was finally time for us to heal and move forward. 

After a while we decided to meet up for coffee and talk everything through. After my oldest was born and I hadn’t heard from her in a while, I wrote her a letter expressing my feelings. It of course went unacknowledged until that coffee date. I mentioned how much it hurts knowing that your best friend has walked away from you twice due to your health. It’s definitely a knife to the heart kind of feeling and I went 6 years thinking that. She apologized and explained to me that it wasn’t anything I did, she just needed to work on herself before she could be there for anyone else. Which, I understand. It doesn’t take away the pain I experienced but I understand it. I had always liked her husband so hearing of the divorce saddened me. That was of course until I heard the reasoning behind it. But that’s not my story to tell and a tough topic, so I’ll just say: PTSD post war deploymentS. Which, that itself still saddens me because of how screwed over our veterans are!! Arg.. During that talk I discovered that her divorce was finalized the same week her mother passed away. OMfG talk about an emotional mind fk!! I honestly cannot imagine and while I wasn’t there for her during it, I was glad that I was able to be a part of her healing, however much or limited that may be! 

I had been blocked on Facebook (she had no memory of blocking me and suspects her ex-husband was to blame) so she unblocked me and we kept in touch that way. A comment here or there, a memory. Small things. I was going through a difficult time and while she didn’t know the details, she sent me a card to cheer me up. She saw a skeleton mermaid, thought of me, bought it and dropped it off. (Oh, if I haven’t already mentioned, Halloween is my jam and I AM a mermaid. Shhh.. don’t question anything, just go with it!) It felt good to reconnect but I still kept my arms extended so as to not allow myself to get too vulnerable. That’s probably why it took another 3 years before we got together again.

You know, the universe works in mysterious ways. Some say that there is a being, God, that is in control. Others believe in multiple gods and goddesses. Then there’s those who don’t believe in anything and that what is, just is. I myself am spiritual and believe in everything being energetically connected. How that is, I don’t have an answer for you; I can only mention my beliefs from what I have experienced myself. There is no way of knowing for sure during this lifetime, as this physical being. Just be a good person and everything will be good, dammit! All of that was said to lead up to an example of how strongly Marion and I are connected. I don’t typically dream and when I do, I rarely remember them. We hadn’t talked in a while which makes this all the crazier! One night I had a dream and all I can recall is her walking up this grand staircase in the most beautiful wedding gown. I had never seen her so radiant. I mean, I knew she was dating someone but had no idea how serious things were. After a few days I texted her to tell her about it, never expecting the response I received. You see, it just so happens that her now fiance had bought her a ring just a few days prior! They were not officially engaged as of yet and she hadn’t told anyone, and yet, I picked up on it! She ended up telling me the story and I just get chills thinking back. Like, I know we’re not the best of friends these days, but knowing I was the first she actually spoke to about it, warms my heart. She even said that it just felt right that I would be.

She had moved away to a beautiful tourist town a few hours away for a job. It just so happened that Igor and I were going up there for our first vacation away just the 2 of us since our honeymoon {10 years prior!}. While in town we met up for dinner and she had me in tears as she apologized to Igor, because even though he had been nothing but amazing towards her, the fact she hurt me so much had to have hurt him, too. Now that’s growth done right! She has since moved back this way and is living with her new fiance. Update: only time will tell where our paths will cross again and what is to come of our friendship. I just know that we are connected in a way that cannot be explained and I am who I’ve become because of her. I wish her nothing but love, light and happiness!

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Rant… 01.

Okay, so here’s the deal. This entry is completely improvised, on the spot and will not be formatted or anything special. I don’t even care if I edit it, I’m just so damn frustrated!!

Of course, now I just received an email that has me in tears so writing this will be all the more difficult… FFS!

Breathe. In slowly, out slowly. Repeat.

I was initially going to rant about how messed up health care is in America, and I will at some point, but I need to rant re: covid-19 first! As someone who is chronically ill, it’s so damaging knowing that your life literally doesn’t mean a thing to Joe Shmo on the street. It’s a total mind fk! I get it, we’re ALL tired and angry and over it. But this pandemic isn’t over! And no, I am not Naïve in thinking this virus is going anywhere. BUT! It still needs to be taken seriously, if not for yourself than for those of us who are at severe risk of complications!!

Admittedly, I am not Christian, but isn’t the whole Christian belief supposed to be about caring for others? Caring for thy neighbor? Loving and respecting one another? The only thing I have been met with is, “stay home then” as if I don’t deserve to [live] as well! Why is my life less important? To date, we have lost 942,006 human beings to Covid-19 in the U.S. alone. And yes, I know I will be met with backlash that not every death was covid related and blah blah flippin blah. I get it. I understand and agree numbers may not be 100% accurate, but isn’t one life lost enough? If you could do your part knowing that you’re doing the best you can to save someone’s life, isn’t that enough? For those who are pro-life they sure don’t act like it. They protest, “my body, my choice” but isn’t that down right hypocrisy?

It hurts. I am angry. I am sad. I am beside myself that people are so desensitized to the death toll and have completely lost their empathy!! The only way through this is together! Why is it when 9/11 happened that everyone came together in unity, but now it’s all political? I truly feel I am living in an alternate reality…

Do you know how heart breaking it is as a parent to witness the fear and anxiety their children face knowing they may potentially bring home said virus that could turn their world upside down with the loss of a parent? The guilt they already feel when nothing has even happened? It fucking sucks! Yes, I am terrified myself but I do everything in my power to assure my kids that everything is going to be okay! We are all vaccinated, we wear our masks, wash our hands, stay out of public when possible- hell, we even still wipe our groceries down! We do our part and by continuing to do so, we will prevail. <- but will we? I honestly wish I could promise them that but I won’t (can’t) make a promise I cannot keep!

What triggered this rant that took me away from venting about health care, is the fact our school district has decided to drop the mask mandate later this month that has been in place since August. My oldest, who has severe anxiety, is already saying he can’t return to school. School is and always has been his [happy place]! He is gifted and loves learning everything he can more than anything. After being home/virtual all year last year, being in the classroom has meant everything to him. But now? He’s taking on the burden of potentially bringing home something that could potentially kill me. How TF do I calm his nerves? How TF do I make him feel safe and comfortable? The answer is, I can’t… and that is more heart breaking and damaging than anything else!

I’m scared. I’ll admit it. I’m scared for myself. I’m scared for the the impact this is going to have on my children. I am scared for my parents, brother and everyone else out there who is high risk. As an empath, I genuinely, deep within my soul, simply cannot comprehend what is happening. My kids need answers that I cannot give them, as I myself need the same damn answers.

How do we legitimately live without just surviving? How do we forge forward while maintaining our mental health stability, strength and courage? Please, please someone help me understand because my own light is dimming day by day.

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04. Revelations

“Dear mom, I get it now.” – Unknown

It would be easy to hold a grudge against my mom even though I understand, because even though I understand, it doesn’t make it easier when she lets me down. No, I am not naive and think I’m never going to be let down, it’s life. It happens. But again, when others come first for whatever reason it’s just an instant reminder of the past. Just like when it comes to chronic illness. If you do get “used” to it, it doesn’t make it any easier… and in reality, you’re never truly used to it – but rather learning to cope with it easier. It is also easy to call mom [selfish] for her choices, however, unless you’ve been in her shoes and have battled chronic illness yourself – what you need to understand is that her being selfish wasn’t really selfish at all. At least not in the negative way it’s usually portrayed. Don’t get me wrong, I fully acknowledge understanding that it is easier said than done, with or without health issues. But! As someone with her own screwed up health, I am asking you… scratch that – [telling] you to at least [try] to understand it.

It took me until I got sick myself to understand. To understand what it’s like to have your life ripped out from under you; grasping at any little speck of normalcy that you can manage to grab hold of, before it slips through your fingers as you fall. Hard. Flat on your ass. It takes a long, LONG time to come to terms and accept that the life you once had will never again be what it was. Not only do you have to accept your new “normal”, but you have to discover the balance between doing what you want to do and how you’ll pay for it. Whether or not X is worth the backlash of Y. Not to mention learning to [live] and not just [survive]. Something I myself am still struggling with. When you’ve been sick for so long, it’s incredibly difficult to not live in constant fear of ‘what ifs’. It’s only natural to want to avoid anything that [could] knock you down and set you back. Therefore getting into the habit of survival mode instead of living a happy fulfilled life.

In the book 10% Happier: How I Tamed The Voice In My Head, Reduced Stress Without Losing My Edge, and Found Self-help That Really works – A True Story, Dan Harris recalls a discussion in which he was told that, “often it’s not the unknown that scares us, it’s that we think we know what’s going to happen – and that it’s going to be bad. But the truth is, we really don’t know.” It’s scary how truthful that statement is! Since the age of nine the need for everything to be perfect controlled the depths of my brain. No matter how prepared I was for a test, in my mind, I had already failed before it began.

I am a perfectionist.

 – [So much so that I have my cousin and husband editing my writing;  if there’s any mistakes that’s not on me at this point. ::wink::]

I have to plan activities and events way in advance so that I can prepare myself in order to partake in said activities/events – only to stress irrationally what I won’t be able to and that I’ll crash horribly once it’s done, just to get down on myself questioning if it was worth it because of how miserable I feel… This scenario is on loop, always three steps ahead of what’s really going on. My mind does not rest, always preparing for the worst and any scenario that could arise. I can be questioning if something was worth it before planning even begins.

As a sick wife and mother – don’t even get me started on the guilt that I am ruining their lives and they’ll someday resent me. Oh, the guilt! That sneaky bastard is probably the worst part of living with chronic illness. It makes you believe you’re always letting someone down, no matter what. The guilt of wanting to be “selfish” and do something for yourself vs. the guilt of how you’ll be perceived and who you’ll hurt along the way. It’s no wonder I have been in therapy on and off for decades. Between the guilt that comes from being sick and this notion that I am never good enough – always needing to do better; that is a balancing battle I am not sure I will ever master.

I read a quote once that I actually wrote out and framed. I have no idea who originally said it so I apologize for not giving credit where it is due; however, the quote is as follows: “The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts”. Truth. Happiness is a choice and who wouldn’t choose to be happy? As much as I may think I understand, I can not pretend to fully comprehend what all my mother was going through. What I do know is that hanging out with Maria made her happy. On the weekend, for her sanity, she was childless and able to fake some level of normalcy. During the summer she was able to visit my biological great-grandmother who had been a family secret and institutionalized in PA since my grandmother was 2. 

Freda had been forgotten about for over 50 years, so when my mother found out about her she made it her mission to visit every few months. Of course as a kid I didn’t understand the importance behind it, just saw Mom on vacation with Maria. Turns out Mom wasn’t really being selfish at all, she was using her heart and giving a long lonely life a happy ending. Whether Mom went about things the right way or not – I don’t know, I couldn’t tell you. When life hands you lemons you make lemonade, right? There’s no right or wrong way to make it, you just learn as you go what works best for you. Just like with anything in life. You learn from your mistakes. No one can predict how their life is going to go, nor can they predict how they’ll respond to whatever happens. All you can do is move forward with gained wisdom.

As unfortunate as it was, Mom getting sick turned out to be an unexpected gift. A blessing in disguise if you will. When I was six years old I caught pneumonia and for the next 11 years I suffered from unexplained symptoms. In elementary school I was sent home almost weekly due to low grade fevers. I’d spike a fever and it’d go away on its own. I felt fine but the school said I had to go. I simply wasn’t regulating my temperature properly and no one knew why. I had extreme “growing pains” throughout every fiber of my body. Mom was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and feared my fate was sealed… I don’t have Fibromyalgia. By nine I had started my period and suffered debilitating migraines. Yes, nine. 

Surprise!  – Happy Birthday, Jena! – 

…. Worst. Present. Ever! 

WTF?! Way to ruin innocents, universe!

Nine was a rough year for me. Mixed in with all of the hormonal changes my body was experiencing and the start of my migraines, I was filled with terror bestowed upon me by my thoughtful – loving – brother. An oxymoron, right? My brother, thoughtful and loving? Good one. Jack was nine when he left home for a bit and wouldn’t let me forget it, using it to his advantage. Children are easily influenced by other children, especially when the other kids are older. They have an easier time relating to someone closer to them in age, therefore trusting what they have to say over most adults. So when Jack told me that I, too, would be sent away unless I was the perfect child, got straight A’s, and did exactly what was expected of me, it was easy to believe. He said that they wouldn’t love me if I ever disappointed them. Yikes!

First of all, how heartbreaking is it, that’s how he felt – what he believed to be true?! SO sad! It took me until I was nearly 27 to realize the impact of his words. Up until then I had always figured his words were just words and the issues they originally caused were sorted out when I was 10. Was I ever wrong! I struggled horribly in school. Between ADHD and a form of dyslexia mixed with a processing disorder, I didn’t come close to what I [believed] was expected of me. If Jack was so smart, so advanced – how the hell could I not be “sent away” when he was? How could my parents be proud of me when I wasn’t amounting to even a fraction of Jack? If they weren’t proud of me they wouldn’t love me and then what was the point anymore? 

Eventually the pressure got to be too much. At my tenth birthday party I took a chinese jump-rope, wrapped it around my neck and feet and pushed it out so it tightened around my neck. Luckily some friends walked in on the scene and stopped me. Between begging and pleading I convinced them not to go tell my mother. I know they were petrified so I give them immense kudos for going to the school counselor the following Monday morning. I find it incredible that a group of 9 and 10 year old girls not only grasped the severity of the situation, but also had it in them to do something about it! By the afternoon there was a full blown intervention held in my honor.

Looking back, I honestly don’t know if I was truly depressed and trying to end my life, or if I was joking around. I know I claimed I was joking around but logically looking at all of the facts, it had to have been more of a cry for help. I needed attention. Although, when I was 31 I was diagnosed with PMDD and I do wonder if that played a role because I know for certain that I had my period on my 10th birthday… hmm… Anyway, I was put in therapy and hated it! Over decades of seeing different therapists I know it takes the right fit for anything to be helpful. Maybe if I could have seen the “right” person at that time, I wouldn’t have suffered the next 16+ years with suppressed issues buried so deep! I had no idea they were even there.