selective memory

And that’s exactly what had begun to happen as I heard their stories. They triggered a vague and growing sense in me that this really is my story.”
— Carolyn Bramhall (Am I A Good Girl Yet?)

I can’t remember exactly when it happened…the exact date, or even the moment when I made the shift from trying to help people through that kind of life, into knowing that kind of life was hot on my heels and about to hand me my ass…but it happened.  Those words, trigger, triggers, triggered…God, they rubbed me so raw.  They made my blood boil and my skin crawl- they filled me with unease and then rage and I found myself desperately trying to dispute their validity.  The guilt was so intense.  There I was, trying to support people whose entire lives seemed to be endless triggers and all I wanted to do was put the gun to my head and squeeze just to prove that there was no bullet in the chamber.  But there was.  I was a gigantic misfire.  I actually wrote a piece about it- and I had quite the epiphany about it as well, but that epiphany didn’t serve to dispel the myth of the trigger- it merely told my subconscious what to do next- and then my life exploded.  Their stories, even from the distance that I had created, had already become not the “possible trigger” as they had warned, but the bullet in the chamber.  That “vague and growing sense in me” had become a full blown wound.

“The Chinese use two brush strokes to write the word ‘crisis.’ One brush stroke stands for danger; the other for opportunity. In a crisis, be aware of the danger–but recognize the opportunity.”
— John F. Kennedy

I am definitely in a crisis…again.  No strike that.  Still.  I am still in crisis and going deeper by the day.  I’m so deep into the crisis, that I’m beginning to think the only opportunity is to go deeper into it.  I have a stinking suspicion that if I don’t find a way to be more willing in this process of dismantling my life, it’s going to get ugly.  Uglier.  It’s pretty damn ugly at this point.  I think I was drawn to Brene Brown not just because she’s teaching me through her writing, but because last night while I was watching her TED talk, she again told the story of when she realized what she was researching was her own life. I hadn’t understood that yet.  All of the reading and listening and writing…the helping…it had become another distraction to the one thing I needed most- ME.  Suddenly there I was, with no one to love but me.  It’s been sheer hell.  I’ll post that here in a bit.  So, I’m in crisis- I’m very aware of the danger, which is not taking the opportunity and healing, and I can’t lie- I’m scared shitless.  Friday my healer and I talked about the “little girl” inside of me and how she needs me- how I need her and we need each other.  We talked about getting to her and I had told her about hypnosis and how I couldn’t get to her- there’s a forest in the way.  I can see the little me at the end of the path, standing in the meadow and bathed in light- but then I look to my right and down, and there she is also…standing with me, holding my hand at the beginning of the path and telling me that we have to go through that horribly frightening, beast ridden, dark, dead and painful forest first…I literally look at her and say, “I can’t.”

So now we are standing here together.  She’s waiting and I’m paralyzed with fear.  I can’t move.  In real life I’m a wreck.  I’m physically manifesting every symptom related to probably 6 out of the seven chakras, I’m bordering on emotional catastrophe and I’ll be go to hell if I can barely utter and mean the words, “I love you” to myself.  Still, she waits.  She isn’t saying, “Hey don’t worry about it, we can do it later…”  Silently I can hear her telling me that 30+ years is long enough Miss Priss- Get your walking shoes and let’s do this.  My entire fricking life is a loaded gun with an itchy finger right now…yet I can’t move.

So, I wrote yesterday…and it was pretty rough at first, but then followed my usual pattern and ended big with all kinds of helpful hints and hopeful words…Even I felt better.  For about ten minutes.  I started this blog to help…to get to my book that’s buried in here somewhere, but the more I write, the less I feel like I’m saying and the deeper into the forest we go…Maybe I’m closer than I think…Step 11 in my book is called “Returning to the Kingdom…”  and there’s only 12 steps in it, so let’s keep our fingers…and toes, crossed.  Here’s what I wrote yesterday…Thanks for listening friends- and thank you to all of the people who have been my triggers.  I needed it.

Love,
Melissa

“As long as you recognize only the need for change, You will remain unchanged.”  Melissa

“Life is meant to be a series of frustrating events. It’s not until you become completely fed up with who you are trying to be, that you can willingly step into who you are.” Melissa

Do you need a hug?

I was sitting on the couch, watching You Can Heal Your Life on DVD.  For a year now, I had been refusing Louise Hay, who is as far as I can gather, the ultimate go to gal in the self love world.  So it stands to reason that I didn’t just refuse her, I avoided her.  Even though I was willingly reading authors published by her, speaking with her, swearing on her…I would have nothing directly of her.  Why?  Because she is the self love guru and because I knew that was the only real answer.  I had been onto that for some time…The day I was on my porch and asking a friend,

“Where is the joy in this?!  I feel so disconnected from God,” I cried at him.

“It was so much easier when God was out there!” I sobbed at him, waving my hands in the air and half gesturing at the sky,

“It was so much more acceptable for him to be out there than for him to be in here!  In this wretch of me!  I wanted him to reach down and touch me!  I don’t deserve something so wonderful to be inside of me!  How can I reach in and touch him?!”

That was the day I knew self love was the only way in and out of this mess.  I knew I didn’t want to go in, but I knew I needed to change.  Yet, knowing it changed nothing on the surface of things, but thankfully, deeper within, that change was picked up on what lives inside of me and let me tell you, had I not realized what I did on the porch that day, even though I hated the thought due to my own unworthiness, my journey would have been…detoured at best.  Recognizing the need for change isn’t enough, knowing there is no other way though- that is undeniable and undeniable is exactly what the world, the Universe and or God respond to.  Whether you like it or not.

I didn’t wake up one day and decide that was the day I would change my life.  I woke up to that decision about ten thousand times over the course of my first 38 years- in just this life.  I didn’t wake up in a cold sweat one night and say,

“This is not my life!”

I woke up, broke down, yelled, cried, threw things, fought with now ex husbands and children, while screaming it.  I’ve said somewhere near what must be that over exaggerated “million times” mark everything from “This is the day!” to “Now I get it” to “That’s it, I’ve had enough!”  I meant it every time, but I was unwilling to love me enough to do it.  Oh, I could say I loved me…As a matter of fact, I used to say,

“I love everything about myself, even the things I hate!”

And that was a lie.  I loved everything that others loved about me and hated…well, I hated myself and when I wasn’t hating myself, I was attempting to change myself to fit me better, and when that didn’t work, I punished myself.  I’ve given myself, sacrificed myself, victimized myself, embellished, denied, and mangled myself all in an effort to make sure that I approved of myself based upon how others reacted to me.  Repeatedly I found myself a wreck, a wretched wreck of slobbering, hysterical, “Oh my God I have lost my mind” chaos and still insisting that I just needed someone to really love me for me…

Why can’t you just hold me?
Have you ever asked anyone this?  Maybe a similar version?
Why can’t you just be here for me?
Why can’t you just listen to me?
Why can’t you just let me be who I am?
Why can’t you just accept me for me?
Why can’t you just love all of me?

Good God…Do you need a hug?  The thing is, that’s exactly what you think you need.  You think you need something from someone else to make you better.  You need a hug, a relationship, an iota of acceptance from anyone who can substitute the position of whomever denied you of whatever it is you think you’re lacking now.  But the truth is, you’re only lacking you.  The horrible, undeniable and yet perfect, life changing truth is that you really have to love you first and you are the only one that can do it right.  Nothing else will work.  No one else can fill your shoes.  And you really do need a hug.

Last night I was watching Louise Hay hug people and I had this terribly heartbreaking thought…

I don’t know how to hug without the seeking of attention attached to it.  I don’t know how to hug like her.  I was dumbfounded…Then I stood corrected- a little.  If my realization was the blow that knocked me on my ass, then my desperate search to be wrong, less hard on and more forgiving of myself, then the next moment of compassion, helped me to my knees.

“You hug the girls without that need and there have been other times…don’t be so harsh on yourself for crying out loud…”

But the closer truth is this- my life, my interactions with people, my hugs, have been mostly and without a doubt, to gain something, not give something and everyone knows that hugs are for giving…not expecting.  Everyone except my ego, The Queen.

 

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  1. #1 by Running from Hell with El on May 5, 2013 - 8:47 pm

    Hey, MP. Little Sally (aka Little El) sends her love.

    • #2 by foundedna on May 5, 2013 - 8:53 pm

      I knew you’d get it. We both love the both of you.

  2. #3 by Aunt zoe on May 6, 2013 - 8:02 pm

    When I retired one of my clients, the hardest girl I ever worked with, came to my party, she gave me a gift. not allowed gifts you know, that gift was a rock she had carved upon. It says
    PLAY
    then she hugged me. She had ever ever touched me or let any staff touch her. She is now a mom, has finished a degree in teaching, would have never ever thought she would end up anywhere but prison. not sure why I am sharing this, just saying “do not give up, you don’t have the right to be a quitter, your girls need you. I would like a hug fdrom you myself when the time comes

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