I don’t like winter or winter-like weather. I feel the cold beneath my skin, into the bones. I need warmth. I like warmth. Cold air makes my body retreat into itself.
On the upside, winter makes for good cuddling if you have a cuddle-buddy. Hot chocolate or warm apple cider and a good movie or two while bundled in a warm blanket makes for a comfortable evening. Throw in some bulky yarn and your choice of needles or hooks (my fellow yarnies know what I’m talking about) and you have a recipe for heaven – for some.
But me, I like the yarn and chocolate and cuddles yet I’d rather do without the freezing temperatures. I don’t like opening my front door to Sub-Zero yelling “Finish Her!” for three – six months out of the year. That is not my cup of tea!
But since I am on the East coast of the United States, there’s no getting around it. So I’ll just bundle up, stock up on yarn and hot chocolate and knit my way to summer! Stay warm in the meantime.
First, I have to apologize to you. I have exposed us to years of unnecessary heartache and pain through allowing your innocent vulnerabilities to be taken advantage of. You are a loving and powerful woman. I did not trust you enough to allow you to spread your wings and grow. My fears kept you bound to those who could not give you what you needed and deserved to fly.
My fears kept me from believing there was anything better for you out in the world. You deserve the world. Your smile cheers up those you share it with and you share freely even when you are crumbling inside and I appreciate that. I love you for that.
You put others before yourself when they are in need. You give even when you are in need. You are fiercely loyal to those you love, even when they hurt you deeply. And when you want to retreat and heal I have interfered, and for that I am sorry. When you needed to sever ties and heal your heart I interfered and for that I am sorry.
Even in pain you still emit a celestial beauty through your writings. Everytime I read your poetry I feel your memories and cry your tears. Thank you for sharing your words, not only with me but with the rest of the world.
Continue to shine your brightest light because I need it. I thank you for being the woman you are.
Hello. I have been quiet for quite sometime, and for good reason. I am approaching my 40th year and I promised myself that I would shed toxic people from my life before I reached that milestone. I finally left a toxic relationship I had been in for more than 10 years. Tomorrow will be 1 year since I left to make a new and peaceful life for my children and I. It hasn’t been easy because there is always the obstacle of standing firm in my belief when the other party tries to re-assert control over me. I am more acutely aware of the behavior patterns during this month because I left during this month and because it is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
I have to fight for my safety and that of my children because I don’t know who may be watching that need encouragement. Many people unfamiliar with the terror of being in an abusive relationship believe that you can just walk away – it’s not that simple. Especially when children are involved. The officers of the family court system are not trained properly to effectively handle domestic violence situations leaving many victims (men are abused also – but because of social stigmas they are less likely to report being abused) and children in serious danger. This has been my season and it is coming to an end.
I have a long healing road to travel but I am grateful that I am alive to travel that road as so many women did not have the fortune to. I have reconnected with friends and interest in activities I had stopped doing. I have begun writing, knitting and crocheting again. I have even knit a pencil skirt free hand! Although that last season was painful, it was necessary for me to grow and re-connect with myself. I accomplished several of my long-term goals I didn’t think were possible for me and that felt amazing!
This is the first time I have been single in 13 years and it feels good. When I go to sleep at night it is peaceful. I laugh more. I smile more. I hug my children more. I am slowly learning about who I am at this point in my life. The old me is introducing me to the new me that is emerging from these challenges and I love her. She is spunky and funny (I don’t tell jokes I just state the reality of some stuff) and excited to experience the goodness that life has to offer.
Life is still moving at a break neck pace. Physically I can keep up until my body makes me sit still. My mind, on the other hand, doesn’t stop. Ever. Which is why I need to incorporate more self-care into my daily routine.
My thoughts fly even while I sleep. All of the conversations I want to have but can not usually surface during my sleeping hours – most times interrupting my sleep. I wish I could have these conversations awake so the thoughts and emotions could leave me alone. Yet some of those conversations would be fruitless anyhow.
The most random thoughts surface usually when I force myself to sit still. I feel the need to always be ‘doing’ something so I’m not viewed as lazy or irresponsible. That makes me feel scattered and unable to relax. What I really want… Well, what I need is for these plans to coalesce like pudding and go down smoothly. Still working on how to ensure that happens.
What ways do you sit still? What is self-care for you?
My pain led me – no dragged me – along a path I dared not go but needed to venture. “I’m fine”, I said, trying to shake the pain loose. With a shake of her head Pain continued dragging my resistance to a destination unknown to me.
Adjusting my dress and fixing a smile I spoke firmly – “I’m fine. Release me.” Again Pain shook her head and continued pulling me over sharp-edged terrain up a cliff face on the side of a mountain. My fear of heights spoke then, screaming, “Wait! Where are you taking us?”
Silently Pain continued on, now her light hold turned into a firm grasp – no longer gentle. Rough, angry yanks to keep me moving cause me to stumble over my steps. My thoughts are disjointed, memories colliding, unlocking more pain and ripping open more wounds.
Falling on my hands and knees I yell, “I’M FINE!!!”, trying to force Pain to release me.
Pain spun on her heel so quick that she was a breath away from my face and spoke:
YOU. ARE. NOT. FINE.
That is why I am here. You are consumed by hurt even though you love – your pain is too great so I am here to carry it and you until you let go releasing us all.
Pain stepped back and before me lay the bluest sky I had ever seen. I realized at that moment the weight of what she said. So I screamed. All of the hurt from all of the years of believing I wasn’t enough rushed to the surface in a blood curdling holler. Dropping to my knees, I felt weak and hollowed out.
Tears blurred my vision and streaked my face as Pain knelt beside me, “Good girl”, she said as she kissed my forehead in a motherly fashion, “Rest now. My job is done.”
Yesterday was a culmination of bad days for me over a span of a few weeks.
Emotionally, mentally and physically draining and straining. You know how you have that one person that you can talk to when the entire world goes crazy and just the sound of their voice calms you down? I needed to hear that calming voice.
That “good morning” that would have made everything calm and quiet. I couldn’t hear that voice and the reality of it sank in as I drove to work. The suffocating, smothering thickness of that reality threatened to choke out my breathing as though I was stranded in the deep end of the pool. And then YouTube played Thursday by Jess Glynne.
That song said what I had been thinking and feeling and burying for fear of what it meant about me. So I cried. And screamed. And questioned. Everything. And then one thought flittered across my emotional meltdown at this red light. All I am right now is a mother. That’s all I have. And that broke me.