Waking From My Own Nightmare

This post I’m doing strictly for me.  It’s something I need.  This isn’t easy for me.

I am seeing a lifelong cycle in me that I’ve repeated countless times.  I don’t want to repeat it anymore.  It’s been slowly destroying me over time.

It’s to do with my relationships with men.  And until now . . . until these last 24 hours . . . I’ve always seen the situations from their point of view.  I’ve been completely understanding of their side, and I’ve never recognized my own feelings about it.  I feel an opportunity at the moment to finally let those feelings come through, and so I’m going to give it a go.

This is not about trying to make myself look good or to bash the men from my past.  My own part in all of this is not any healthier or better than the part the men played.  But I’ve always given voice to their side of the situation, and today I am in great need of giving my side a voice.

I very easily give of myself and ask for nothing in return.  I didn’t know I did it.  And I don’t mean that I did this in a “I’m so good and pure I didn’t even know I was being taken advantage of” kind of way, I mean I did it in a very unhealthy and disempowered way.  There is a *true* way of giving of self and asking for nothing in return vibration that is in alignment with the Divine and is truly a compassionate and unconditional Love.  But this . . . what I have been doing in my intimate relationships, is *not* of that vibration.

I give all of myself in relationships, to men who are unable to give anything of themselves.  Who are in fact, unaware of anyone outside of themselves.  I am not accustomed to receiving anything from my partner.  Whether material gifts, emotional support, etc.  But I am accustomed to being restricted and controlled . . . owned.  They can do whatever they want, but I must toe the line.  They are the nicest guys.  Their reasons for why they do what they do make complete and total sense to me.  They are convinced themselves that they are nice guys.

My ex-husband, who I divorced when my son was still a baby, hadn’t worked since I was 8 months along in pregnancy.  I had an emergency C-section which is considered major surgery.  I was scared to death to sneeze or cough because it felt like all my internal organs would come out.  I was exhausted.  But my husband had completely withdrawn from me and the baby.  He refused to help with the baby ever.  He refused to help with anything at all.

I was still in high school at the time.  I had to take the baby with me and put him in daycare while I was in school.  I then took a bus into downtown to work a part time job I had gotten.  I don’t remember who watched the baby while I did that, but I can assure you it was some convoluted process which was completely ridiculous in nature.  I would then get home late in the evening and cook dinner and make bottles and whatever else had been neglected during the day.  My husband just sat in the living room playing some imaginary game along the lines of dungeons and dragons.  This was all just in the first two months of my son’s life.

Towards the end of the marriage, there is one memory in particular that just blows my mind and I have never understood.  At the time we were staying with my dad in another state.  I had gotten another job there shortly after we arrived, at a Supercenter being built in town.  I often worked 80 hours a week.  I lost about 90 lbs. in the first couple of months of working because I didn’t eat very much and did a lot of physical labor.

I had to pay for a babysitter to watch the baby in the same house that my husband sat in all day.  At $5/hr I made a dime over minimum wage.  I still had to get up all night with the baby.  The one time I shoved my husband out of bed to make him get the baby because I was exhausted, I woke up to him growling in a menacing manner to the baby to shut the fuck up.  Which resulted in me punching something hard and metal next to my bed in order to get my anger out before I marched over to him and the baby, calming myself before gently taking the baby and laying him back in the crib and then grabbing a hold of my husband and dragging him into another room to tell him that if I ever heard him talking or treating the baby in that way again, I would fucking kill him.

I was starved, sleep deprived, and dealing with an adult child who saw himself as superior to me and would yell things at me like how I was the stupidest fucking person he had ever met.  Years later, I’d find out that him and his family would laugh and make fun of me behind my back because they thought I was so gullible and would believe anything.  Fine.  Whatever.

Eventually I asked for a divorce.  In which case he decided it would be a good idea to get a job now to impress me.  He did get a job.  I was not impressed.  I was exhausted and done.  But now to the scenario that I’ll never understand.  He had his first paycheck in hand.  I had mine.  We borrowed a car and went shopping.  I put my stuff on the conveyor belt to pay from my paycheck.  Every single solitary item was a necessity.  Baby food, diapers, etc.  Now, keep in mind that I was the only one who had worked since the baby had been born and every penny had been going to his care.

The cashier rang my stuff up . . . I didn’t have enough money.  I was literally handing over every dime of my paycheck for things I HAD to have to make it until the next paycheck and have enough supplies for the baby.  I needed every single diaper.  I looked to my husband, and I asked if he could please get one of the packages of diapers with his money.  And the man about had a temper tantrum right there in line.  This was my place of work, so I was completely embarrassed by his behavior but also FURIOUS at his attitude.  I gave him the death stare.  He said, “Fine!  That means I’ll have to put back a pair of my sunglasses!”

Which is when I looked at all of the stuff on the conveyor belt and saw that all of it, every single bit of, was stuff for him personally.  Clothes, TWO pairs of sunglasses, along with a bunch of other stupid shit he didn’t need.  Not a single thing for the baby.  Not even a small something for me, his wife and mother of his child who had been killing herself to keep the family afloat.  And the fact that I had to have a fight with him in the middle of a store in order to make him pay for one package of diapers.  Besides his sperm, that was the only other contribution he made to his son.

My dad and step mom were not happy with my decision to divorce.  My dad saw it as me being just like my mother and pulling a man’s child away from him.  So on top of all of it, when I came home at night, I had to see my own family being buddy, buddy with my husband and telling him he didn’t have to leave, he could stay as long as he wanted.  And I was the shunned evil ice queen.  Fine.  Whatever.  I’ll just go be busy with being responsible while everyone else eats grapes and chocolate on their high horses.

Another relationship that comes to mind, was a little later in my life when I was back in Washington state, and was working at my first office job.  I made better money, but still not enough to fully support me and my son.

I started dating an engineer.  To me, this was a huge step up because . . . well he had a job.  I had remembered how stressful it had been on me to not have my husband working and me being leaned on financially so I didn’t want to do that to another person.  He made good money, but I didn’t want him to think that’s why I was with him.

But here’s the part I’m just now realizing I should probably be angry about, but I never felt like I had any right to be mad about.

At this time I was making about $8/hr.  After killing myself making $5/hr . . . this was heaven.  But I also had more expenses, such as gas for a four hour daily commute.  Most of my clothes had come from charity and were well worn.  At the time I had a nasty smoking habit.  Ironically, it was the one thing I spent money on for myself.  I’m pretty sure subconsciously I was hoping they did kill me.  Also because I spent money on them, I had to cut from somewhere else in my expenditures, and the only other negotiable choice was my food.  For two years, I basically lived on Diet Dr. Pepper and cigarettes.  Except for the occasional times people took me out for meals.  I was so skinny, it hurt to sit because my bones would bruise my skin.

Just trying to set the scene, and no, I did not make great choices but I was a single divorced mom by 19 . . . so give me a break.

So things got serious with this guy and we eventually moved in together.  He used to take me to downtown Seattle to the (now) Macy’s to go clothes shopping.  For himself.  He would say, “Hey!  Do you want to go with me clothes shopping?”, and I was all “YEAH!” and then several hundred dollars later he’d be packing his new car with a whole new wardrobe for himself.

I was excited for him to be able to do this for himself, because I am the kind of person who is genuinely happy for other’s happiness.  But as the day wore on and I realized that there was ZERO intention of me getting any new clothes, I found myself many times trying not to burst into tears right there in the middle of the store.  I felt so pathetic, standing there in my clothes from charity, and having selfishly thought that he had maybe wanted to surprise me and do something for me.  I told myself at the time that I shouldn’t expect that of him because it is his money and he does get to choose what he does with it.  I blamed myself for making such a rash assumption and then causing myself undue disappointment.

There was the time he dragged me into the Versace store.  To again show off how much his jeans were that he had bought there.  This wasn’t just a one time thing, he did things of this nature the entire relationship.

Did I mention that he made 6 figures at the time?

We once got into a huge fight because I was having a hard time paying my half of the rent.  I had childcare costs, which is the equivalent of a mortgage payment in it’s own right.  So, yes, I was struggling to pay my HALF of the rent to a man I was in a serious relationship with.  At the time it seemed “fair” and I fucking beat myself up emotionally for being such a loser that I wasn’t able to keep up with the expenses off of my very modest paycheck.

We got in a fight over toilet paper.  He said I used way too much toilet paper.  I asked if he had ever lived with a woman before, because bitches use a lot of toilet paper.  I asked if he wanted me to stop wrapping up the tampons and just throw them straight into the garbage, blood and all.  He told me to stop being so wasteful and ridiculous.  I told him to fuck off.  I had my limits, and apparently toilet paper was one of them.

He traveled all over.  Without me.  He went to visit his family at home in Ireland.  He went to Vegas.  Up to Canada with his friends.  He was living quite the life while we were together.  But very little of it had anything to do with me.  After the initial “falling in love” phase, he never made me feel like I was beautiful to him.  More like I was just a hot piece of ass.  Big difference.  He acted like I was some gold-digging burden when in fact I bent over backwards trying to show that it wasn’t about the money for me.  I was all in for the relationship and him.  To him I was just this pretty object he pulled down from the shelf every once in awhile when he was bored or needed to get his rocks off.  There wasn’t much more of him present in the relationship.  He mostly tolerated me.

I went from relationship to relationship with similar outcomes.  The guy was always totally stuck in himself even as he convinced me that the things he did were for me.  And I believed it.  But in hindsight, I can see how all of it can be traced back to themselves.  They weren’t in a relationship with me, they were in a relationship with my body and then some made up picture they projected over the top of me.  So, basically a relationship with themselves.

But to be fair, I was doing the same.  Projecting a much prettier picture over them from myself.  I used to say and I still want to say that I loved them because of the soul I saw inside . . . and maybe that is true at some level.  But at the personal level, I wasn’t in love with who the men really were, I was in love with how I thought they were based on who I was inside.  My interpretations of their behavior was based on how I saw and experienced the world . . . not the truth of the situation.

Eventually I took an 8 year break from relationships altogether.  To understand who I was outside of a relationship.  Somewhere at the 6 year mark I had a couple of flings and saw that nope, I’m not ready yet to get back out dating.  Still attracting douches.

Which brings us up to a couple of years ago.  By this time I was making a good living and able to fully support me and my son on my own.  I thought this would change my relationship dynamics.  I’m good on my own now, both emotionally and financially.  I don’t have to be in a relationship if I don’t want to.  Therefore, I will be less likely to repeat my cursed cycle from all those years ago when I was a spring chicken.

But I was wrong.  I put in all I had to try and not repeat my relationship doom . . . and it still happened again.  Because the real issue isn’t to do with money.  It’s an attitude.  A habit.  So even though in my last relationship, we were both fine financially, psychologically it was the same dynamic.  Just incredibly more sophisticated in nature.

It started out with a bang, all in love, la-de-da.  But slowly over time, I was making more and more compromises on my end, while nothing changed on the other end.  So sure that this relationship was meant to be, I put away all thoughts that maybe it wasn’t meant to work and set to work to doing whatever was needed in order to make it succeed.

They say relationships are about compromise.  So if he was stuck and didn’t know how to get around an obstacle, I’d step in and help him work it out.  Until one day I realized that nothing had ever actually moved forward in the relationship, but that now all of my time was being focused on him and helping him become “unstuck”.  He didn’t have to work and had zero responsibilities except to feed, shower, and clothe himself . . . and he had all of my time and attention.  I work full time, I’m a mom, I have pet(s), I have a household to run, I’m over here in the USA doing everything by myself . . . and now I was also giving my undivided attention to helping him figure things out so that he could get out in life.

In my mind, I thought I was investing and building a strong foundation for the two of us for our future.  I was dedicated and determined to figuring out this relationship phenomenon.  I sacrificed and compromised.  When I said this was hard trying to make things works across a continent and an ocean, he said yes it was hard for him too.  And in the midst of my insanity I thought that he really did understand how hard this was all on me.  Because again,  I projected my understanding onto him.

He’s never had to work a day in his life.  He doesn’t have the first fucking clue what I was living through this last two years.  That’s just a perfect example of how we trip ourselves up.  I should have KNOWN he didn’t really understand or know what this was all doing to me.  I should have known that someone who doesn’t have any real responsibilities, is just plain incapable of understanding my life.  It’s just not possible.

Just like when people say that you can’t understand what it’s like to have kids until you have kids?  And the people without kids get all up in arms and defensive like they’ve been insulted.  It’s because you CANNOT understand what you don’t know or haven’t experienced yourself.  It’s only after you’ve had it or experienced it that you can THEN see that, omg . . . no, I really could not have known that until now.

That was basically our whole relationship in a nutshell.  The issue being that he convinced me that he really did know and understand this or that even though he never did it himself personally, and me having done or experienced those things personally, didn’t believe that I knew better than him.

As I said to him once, he was more confident in his own bullshit than I was in my truth.

Which basically sums up my life.  The root cause of how I become my own worst enemy, relationship after relationship.

So the solution isn’t about those men changing.  There are always going to be dicks around.  They have to even see that they’re being dicks before they can work on changing themselves.  And you have to really want to change yourself in order to put in the hard work required.  So no, that’s not the solution.

What I also don’t want to do is close my heart and become one of them.  That’s not a choice in my book.

So that leaves myself.  I need to lay down better boundaries and enforce them, even at risk of offending or making things awkward.  I can’t do this to myself again.  As I get older, I have a harder time recovering from this level of bullshit mistake.

I have to be more fair to myself.  I have to stand up and protect myself from others who *are* being douchebags.  Not because they don’t deserve love, kindness, and understanding . . . but because it’s a fucking waste of time when someone is all closed up like that.  They will just take and take and take until you’re drained and then toss you aside because you no longer serve a purpose for them.  Sacrificing yourself doesn’t make them “see the light”.  They’re so used to people giving them everything they want and bending over backwards that the people around them just become this blur of stuff that doesn’t really register on their radar or even really care about.

It’s not worth it.  It’s absolutely not worth it.  But maybe if people quit believing their bullshit, and quit fucking enabling them and doing everything for them . . . maybe they’ll be made uncomfortable enough that they finally do choose to fix their shit.  It has to affect them personally before they have motivation to change.  But that’s actually not my concern or my own motivation.  They can choose to change or not change, either way I’m not going to let them have a say in my own life anymore.

Now, some of those fuckers are tricky.  They start using shit like they’ll die if you don’t do this or that for them.  They’ll start acting like they’re just a weak sack of shit that needs you.  “What will I do without you, I can’t make it without you.”  Or say stuff like, “I can’t, but I just can’t.”  No. No.  That’s emotional blackmail.  That’s bullshit.  Don’t coerce or manipulate me into putting up with your bullshit, by hinting, suggesting, or even straight out telling me that the consequences of not putting up with it, could lead to your death or demise.

If you play that shit on me, then I guess you’re going to die if it’s true, because I do not fucking play that game.

I have NOT had an easy life and I have gone through some of the most insane stuff, but time and time again I have had to pull my shit together by sheer will power, and all on my own with little to no support in order to have the life that I have now which is insanely more happy than my childhood.  I refuse to be a victim.  I refuse to be a statistic.  So I’m not going to sit there and allow others to behave in that manner towards me anymore like I’m the one that doesn’t get it or understand their suffering.  I understand TOO well, but that doesn’t mean you get to wimp out in your own life or make other people responsible for your crap.  Pick up your own shit and fix it yourself.

funny-cat-box-yelling-fallen

Jumping Back Into Life With My Party Of One!

The soundtrack for today’s post:

I Lived by One Republic

I’m currently sitting at the car dealership getting new tires put on my car.  {Transferring money from savings to checking AGAIN for the hundredth time this month.  %^@!*?%  <– can’t put hashtags in my “swear” words anymore . . . it tries to make it a *thing*.

So anyways, on the long ass drive to my appointment this morning I was contemplating my existence (also for the hundredth time this month).  It was more of the “what am I doing?” . . . feeling like I’m missing or not getting something.  That scratch you can’t itch.

Letting stuff float through my mind.  “Nope.  That’s not it.  Nope.  Nope.  Already been down that road thoroughly and nope.”

Sitting in the long line to get onto 520, an energetic dance song came on my shuffled music.  I started bopping to it, my ponytail swishing.  Now, understand that normally, I’m too self conscious to do something like this while stopped in traffic.  I mean I’m *stuck* next to these people for at least 15 minutes . . . it can get awkward.

But something in me is SO tired of everything, that I’ve worn down the strict-disciplined-always-follows-the-rules inner Parent that has always been there to stop me from making a total ass of myself.  My inner child was like “I DO WHAT I WANT! YOU DON’T OWN ME!” and gave into the dance.

I think the key difference for me that separates this from all of my other minor rebellions, is that I truly did not feel subconscious about what I was doing.  I just felt the need to bring the fun and party to where I was.  Right there.  In my car.  Party of one.

And I felt comfortable in my skin with what I was doing.  I smiled.

I felt something start to well up in me.  A new resolve.  It’s time to change.

I’m a motherfluffin Gemini.  Do you know what the ONE thing is that I should have mountains of?  (And that doesn’t even include the effect of *expands everything it touches* Jupiter that is conjunct my sun).

Friends.

Everywhere I go, I should have friends.  Friends coming out of my ears.

But I’ve been sitting around being a pussy about being super sensitive and empathic.  “Oh I need time to myself, I can’t.”  And not to dismiss my own actual needs, yeah I need down time . . . but so what?  So what about that?  Being so guarded and protective of myself, all I’ve managed to do is isolate myself.

I tell myself I don’t want to get involved in drama.  Or maybe I even have a fear that by having friends I’ll create karmic debt and then I’ll never get off this fuckin’ carnival ride.  I don’t know!

But sitting in my car this morning, all I knew was this.  Without friends and personal relationships, life for me is meaningless.  It’s all the people in my life and the interaction with them that makes life worth it for me, and I’ve gone and cut myself off from everyone.

There’s reasons.  I had healing to do, I had to get my own shit together, and all that.  Again, I don’t want to dismiss the process I needed to go through.  But what I do want to acknowledge, is that obviously that time for me is over.  There’s a powerful force inside me that is ready to get out there and get my hands dirty with life.

I want my current friends to know how much they mean to me, and I want to make new friends where ever I go.  I want to turn that party of one into a party of everyone!

So I ninja’d a bunch of my friends this morning.  Texted, left messages in Facebook.  Not all my friends, trying to wade into the pool slowly.  The first response I got back on my phone was “Sweet!  Who is this?”  :/

Actually, it was more like LOL!  Because yes!  That’s exactly it!  I’ve totally disappeared from everyone’s life, so what else could I expect?

I’m giving myself a new challenge in life.  I’m going to learn how to be a friend.  I’m going to learn how to be the first to reach out to others.  I’m going to learn how to be open and invite others to join the party.  I’m going to challenge myself to stop being so self conscious and holding myself back.

In fact, while sitting here in the waiting room and listening to the song from One Republic on my headphones . . . I let myself enjoy music the only way I know how, and that is to dance in one form or another.  I’m the master of seat dancing.  I’m not even thinking anymore “I wonder if they think I’m crazy.”  I’m just thinking, “Yay! Yay! Yay! <tap> <tap> <tap>.”  It makes it feel like the room is coming to life . . . it’s AWESOME.

You know, I’ve *always* wanted life to be more like a musical, where it was acceptable to break out into inspired song and dance.  And who knows . . . maybe I want it to be that way so bad because it has something to do with what I have to offer.

So, if you get some random text or message from someone and you’re trying to figure out who the hell is sending you random hugs and high fives.  Don’t worry, it’s probably just me . . . jumping back into life!

Are You Truly Done With Suffering?

There is a Truth.  A Divine Blueprint.

There are any number of ways to tell the story of the Divine Blueprint.

All considered True, as long as they retain the original structure of the Original Blueprint.

The closer it aligns to the Original, the more Pure and Whole it is.  The more it is considered Holy and Sacred.

So yes, there is a single Truth in this existence.  And there are many ways to perceive it.  Many paths to pursue it.

. . .

Anything that strays from the integrity of that Truth, is outside of what is Real.

Anything outside of what is Real, is the source of all of our pain and sorrow.

The closer you align to the Truth, to your own Original Blueprint . . . the one made specifically for you by Source itself . . . the special perspective that you were asked to hold of the One Truth . . .

That is what we know here as “healing”.

. . .

Only what is Real and True will heal you.

Only what is Real and True will fill that hole in you.

. . .

You can believe whatever you want to believe.

But if you’re still sick . . .

Unhappy . . .

In pain . . .

Confused . . .

Scared . . .

Then you are still holding onto a belief within yourself that is not true,

And you are still wounded, out of alignment with your Real Truth.

. . .

The very moment you surrender the belief you hold that is outside of what is Real . . .

You will find immediate relief from your suffering.

Immediate.

shakti_green tara

 

 

There Is A Time To Live And There Is A Time To Die

One thing about having your life flipped upside down with devastating news, is that it forces you to be present in the here and now.  All there is, all you can be sure of, is what is happening at this moment.

You know, I tried to imagine the Native Americans back hundreds of years ago all sitting around the campfire trying to plan out their 5 year and 10 year goals and it just looked ridiculous to me.  Discussions started about risk management of the buffalo herds and average rainfall from recent years and the amount of berry return they could expect in the coming years based on weather projections from their shaman.  Which then turned into arguments and name-calling and fistfights.  It was a disaster.

The Native Americans as a people, at one time, had such a genuine appreciation of life and gratitude for all they had.  They knew what needed to be done in each moment and left the rest to the Great Spirit.  They lived simply.  But they weren’t just flying blind, they were plugged into the pulse of nature.  It’s a natural rhythm that syncs up with our mind and heart.  It’s a feeling, a knowing of what time it is . . . of what needs to be done right now, and what was needed for the future was automatically calculated into that with the unseen spirit of Life.

A perfect recent personal experience with how this works, is that I felt a strong need in me to take a couple of days off.  It wasn’t your typical, oh that sounds like a good idea, it was something deep in me telling me that it needed to happen.  So I just went with it in the moment, and I used my instinct for how to go about doing it.  The night before my two scheduled days off I found out that my girl kitty was dying, and I would’ve had to take those two days off anyways . . . but because I listened to my *now* voice the week before without getting caught up in why I felt it . . . it was already taken care of.  Instead of having to focus on arranging all of that with no warning to my office, everything was already pre-arranged and I was able to 100% focus on the situation at hand.

That is living in harmony with life, even while in the modern world.

Right now everyone’s too busy thinking they know better than life and nature, what needs to be happening from moment to moment.  Not only that, but also busy telling everyone else what *they* should be doing too.  With all of this chattering at each other, how can anyone hear their own inner voice anymore?  The one that connects them to Life?  The one that sustains, nourishes, and provides everything that is needed from moment to moment?  Is it any wonder we’re all starved and empty inside?  When you go against that internal natural rhythm you purposely deny yourself nourishment from nature . . . God . . .The Mother . . . however you choose to see that which spiritually feeds us and makes all things possible in this life.

Do you not stop and think about what makes trees grow?  What makes bees buzz?  What *it* is that animates this world and brings it to life?  What makes you walk around and laugh and talk and cry?  There is this ever present hum of life that is present in all and everything we do, and we try to live life like a bunch of teenagers who think they already know everything, ignoring this very real and present provider in our current existence.

All of it is a gift.  What moves through everything and gives it the spark of life and animates this world, does NOT have to do that.  It can withdraw at any time it chooses.  Every bit of it is a gift, and we take it for granted and we stomp all over it, and ignore it.  We refuse to even acknowledge it’s existence . . . and yet it continues to give and give and give.  And we . . . continue to be like a bunch of spoiled brats who need their asses whooped.

Being alive is a gift.  Dying . . . is a part of that process.  It’s sad because we want to continue to share this life with that person or being, but things must come and go as they need to, not as we personally wish them to.

Just like I didn’t know initially why I was taking off those two days, I don’t initially know why it’s time for Raven to die or why it’s time for anyone to die . . . but there are bigger things at work than just us as humans on this planet.  Maybe Raven is a super spy on the planet Catawesomeness, and she was here on a vacation or as a favor to someone, and now her time here is up because she needs to get back to her real job at Catawesomeness.  Yes I’m sad for her to go, but that’s the nature of existence.  The natural rhythm at both the micro and macro levels.

Just because she’s going to move into a spectrum of light my human eyes can’t see, doesn’t mean she ceases to exist or that she isn’t still out doing awesome Raven things.  Because that’s not how things work.  There are whole existences and worlds that our minds have been closed to for a really long time and it’s that closed mindedness that makes us suffer.  The suffering is in response to an imagined way of how things are when we die.  Not based on truth or reality.

The grief . . . the grief is very real.  Energetically, it’s the untangling of energy from each other.  If we grip on tightly to the being dying from this world (or just leaving to do something else awesome), then it becomes more painful.  If we were to know or understand that they’re just going through a door and onto other things just like when we move or change jobs here . . . then we’d be more willing to unlock our grasp on them and free them.  Let them go.  Let them move on to their next life without pulling on them to come back when they are done here.

I had a dream a few years back.  I was in a house with a girl.  She left the room momentarily and when she did my dream became lucid . . . more real than real life.  The ghost of a girl was trying to make contact with me.  She was pleading with me.  Something that the astral plane was trying to get across the veil to the world, to us.  It was an emergency.  When the other girl returned to the room, the ghost disappeared.  I told her about it, and she said that her sister had died and it was probably her.

When I first woke up I couldn’t remember what the urgent message was from the other side of the veil.  But I suddenly remembered it this last week.  The urgency was that we’ve forgotten how to properly grieve the dead.  We’ve forgotten how to open ourselves wide to the loss in order to free them so that they may leave this world.  The astral has been bursting at the seams with the spirits of our loved ones who we won’t release or let go or forgive.  Our awareness and attention is more powerful than we realize.  Holding tight to someone, whether alive or dead . . . binds them.  It makes it harder for them to untangle their energy from you and be free to leave.  You have to release your hold on them, and they on you.

In ancient times, there used to be huge ceremonies held throughout the year where specially trained priestesses and priests would do these elaborate ceremonies in order to clear all of that out.  So if you did lose someone and you were holding onto them, this was an opportunity as a community to join together in your grief and let them all go together.  Then you had the company and support of others suffering the same and you could lean on each other for support in having to finally say goodbye or let go.  But what do we do now?  We get, what? two days to move through the whole grief process before we get back to business and continue as if nothing happened?

This neglect of this part of ourselves is what is undoing us now.  This need to hold onto things long past their time.  This need to overcome nature and be these heroes that triumph over death again and again.  It goes against natural laws.  We throw money at cancer research and call it charity and doing good . . . without understanding whether it truly is good or not.  The more we try to conquer disease and sickness, the more that shows up.  Suspicious don’t you think?  Perhaps it’s Mother Nature taking matters into her own hands?  We are truly foolish people.

We have 7+ billion people on the planet.  More than the planet can sustain.  Is this *really* being progressive?  Or is this the result of us thinking we know better than God . . . Mother Nature.  This unhealthy obsession to force and make things continue to live against their will, just because we’re too scared to let go.

We’re scared of our emotions and our feelings and of losing that which we love.  These are our shadows that we run from.  Our whole existence is now centered on a fear of dying and losing love, rather than living and experiencing love.  In an effort to cheat death, we have become the dead.  We no longer remember what it even feels like to be alive.

There is a time for us to be born . . . and there is a time for us to die.  And if we’re tuned into the natural rhythm of life, we know when those times are, and we need to allow them to happen.  Provide love, provide support for both them and their loved ones, help ease their suffering as much as possible during the transition.  But for god sakes . . . we need to let them go.

funny-teddy-bear-dog-cotton

 

Little Girl Giggling

Do you know what felt really good about doing yesterday’s post?

I got to express my feelings.  MY feelings.  My only thought when writing yesterday was, “What do I feel inside my heart?”  I wasn’t thinking about how it might make someone else feel.  I wasn’t thinking about what others might think of me.  I wasn’t trying to curb or hide my feelings so that others didn’t become concerned about my state of mind.  I simply expressed my very own feelings that I get to have and feel and hug.

Mine, mine, mine.

It feels really good to get to have and express feelings without judging them.  Without having to act on them.  Without having to defend or explain them.  Without worrying about someone else trying to take responsibility for them, or fix them, or try and tell me why I should or shouldn’t be feeling them.  {Big sigh of relief.}

They weren’t based on trying to skirt psychological criteria for various mental disorders in an attempt to not look psycho, crazy, or like I’m having a breakdown.  They weren’t based on an agenda or ulterior motives.  They weren’t any kind of attempt to make a point or model anything.  There was no focus on consequences, potential outcomes, or effects of my words.

They were purely and simply the feelings I was feeling in my heart.

Here’s the post btw, if you’re interested:  What Is In My Heart

It was freeing.  Moon in Sagittarius –> A need to feel free to feel what I feel.

Do you know what kind of sucked about yesterday’s post?

The absolute silence surrounding it.

Nobody was going to touch that post with a ten foot pole, fluff you very much.

I swear to god I could almost hear everyone stop breathing at once, and very carefully try to tip toe away without being noticed . . . that’s how bad the silence was.

I don’t even understand it, I never have.  This is quite common for me, btw.  I open and share my heart, and people scatter like cockroaches do when a light gets switched on.  While in the past it has led me to doubt my own feelings or wonder if something is wrong with me . . . anymore I’m very sure about what I feel deep inside me and I know there’s nothing wrong with it.

I can’t help but get the feeling that others are more focused on what I’m expecting in response from them, then they are about what it is they feel themselves.  Almost like people assume or think that I’m looking for comfort, help, love, advice . . . as if I’m something that is broken or in need of fixing.

Except . . . I’m not.  Unless I’m specifically asking for help or advice, that is not my reason for sharing things.  I just need to feel what I’m feeling, and I also have a need to share what those feelings are.  I don’t need help or advice because in the act of feeling and sharing what I do, it clears the situation for me and then I know exactly what I need to do.

What would be AWESOME, although I’m certainly not going to force anyone, would be if others would share what THEY are feeling inside.  I don’t need to know what you think or feel about what I wrote . . . what did it evoke and make YOU feel?  It doesn’t even have to be related.  If, while reading my post, it evoked an emotion or memory of your own and it doesn’t even seem related . . . share that!

When you truly share what you’re feeling without trying to explain it, or feel sorry for it, defend it, etc. . . . it feels magnificent!  It feels like a huge weight is taken off of you.

I don’t WANT people to praise or pay credence to my awesomeness (unless they truly feel it and that’s what they want to do).  What I want is for people to be able to feel and own their very own feelings.  Don’t make it about me or others.  Make it about you.  Relish in your feelings!  Roll around in them like a pig in manure.  Don’t judge them or try to see them as good or bad or try to see the other side or feel you have to justify them.

Just FEEL what you truly feel inside!

Feeling what you feel inside means focusing on just your feelings unattached to what anyone else thinks or feels.

With my Gemini Sun/Jupiter conjunction, I’m very mercurial in nature.  What I feel will change from minute to minute.  It’s where I shine.  With those two things in opposition to my Neptune/Moon conjunction in Sagittarius (a link to my natal chart here if you’re an astrologer and interested:  astrology) my feelings are all over the place.  That is both where I am at home and where I shine.  I must be allowed to feel whatever I’m feeling without it being a huge fluffing deal, or I will suffer greatly in health.

They flow through me.  They come and go.  While they are there . . . I express them . . . when it’s time for them to leave, I let them go.  This is as natural to me as breathing . . . and yet on paper it looks like I’m a mental bi-polar case.  That’s not seeing me for who I am . . . that’s being afraid of who I am and trying to control it or change it.  Just because it makes others uncomfortable (especially Capricorn energy), doesn’t mean it’s bad or wrong or needs to be repressed or changed.  That’s a limited and narrow way of viewing life.

Mercury is the trickster.  Anyone with Gemini or Virgo energy has this kind of nature in them, and I’m sure struggle in a similar way as I do.  Mercury is the understanding that nothing is permanent, and also that nothing should be taken so seriously.  This is in direct conflict with Pluto/Scorpio/8th house, where everything is deadly serious.  Everything is dead still.  What something is for one moment, is that way F O R E V E R !!!!!!!!

Mercury is all . . . “No.”

Gemini is about laughing at ourselves and not taking ourselves so seriously.  It’s about seeing paradoxes and contradictions in all of life.  Libra focuses more on moderation and balance between duality . . . Gemini is able to fly through, around, and between them like a master gymnast and is very comfortable there.  Like kids.  Kids are very Gemini in nature . . . very curious, very in wonder and in awe of the simplest things around them because it’s all new.

Kids say the darndest things . . . because they’re said in innocence.  They aren’t in a dark serious adult mood . . . they’re just saying what they’re actually seeing or observing in the environment around them.  “Why? Why? Why? But how come?” is Gemini.  The only absolute in the world of Gemini is that there are no absolutes.  If you try to pin them to any one thing or say, “but you said this and now you said this”, you will get nowhere with them.  Their response is most likely to be, “but in that moment I was feeling this and in this moment I’m feeling this . . . they are two different situations.”

It’s about being in the moment and being flexible.  It’s a constant state of opening to receive the moment . . . experience that moment (observe, watch, learn all you can about it while it’s there) . . . and then releasing that moment because you need to be open to receive the next moment coming in.  It is entirely possible to live in this way . . . in a conscious way . . . and have everything work out like magic without worrying or forcing things to be a certain way.  But it makes those who aren’t comfortable with this way of living . . . very, very, nervous.  And their nervousness about the Gemini’s way of being . . . makes Gemini feel very nervous about themselves.

So for me, this is all about getting to my true feelings (Sagittarius moon) and sharing with others (Gemini Sun).  If I have any intent, it’s in others sharing their true feelings (or even trying it out for the first time) and also sharing it with others (or trying it out for the first time).  Not about judging or psychoanalyzing (Pluto in Libra . . . conjunct my descendant) or even trying to help others with their feelings.  The point is just to even be aware of our OWN feelings and getting comfortable in sharing them despite other’s judgment and projections and analyzing.

I’ve done those things to others in the past . . . why? Well, because others were always doing it to me when I was younger.  I was just trying to be silly, playful, mimicking Gemini . . . but holy hell were the things I did taken so seriously and taken so completely out of context.  What I did wasn’t seen in innocence, but always as if I were some guilty master mind manipulator.  So I thought everything was much more serious than it really was, and that my feelings weren’t as innocent as I really felt inside . . . and it led to me disconnecting from my true self.

Well I’m reconnecting.  I’m going to feel what I feel and I’m going to share what I feel, even though it goes against everything we’ve been led to believe as a culture and society.  Even if I’m the only one who believes in my innocence and my mental stability.  Even if I’m left alone in my open heart sharing (which does hurt my feelers, btw) because nobody else is brave enough to do the same.

I hate being left alone.  But at least when I’m being true to myself and being who I am in all of my mercurial, open-hearted, silly, paradoxical ways . . . I’m truly happy and joyful in life.  Which is a lot more than I can say for the majority of humanity.

Here’s the way to read my posts whenever you start taking what I’m saying WAY too Life/Death serious . . . pretend there is a little girl hiding in plain sight (such as behind a sheer curtain with her legs poking out) . . . with her hands covering her mouth trying to stifle her giggles because she thinks she’s being way more clever than she is, but is having fun regardless.

That’s all that needs to be understood about me . . . I’m a silly . . . mischievous . . . giggling little girl at heart.

What Scorpio thinks of Gemini's flexible reality.

What Scorpio thinks of Gemini’s flexible reality.

Day Two Of Not Giving A Damn . . . No Mercy

Day two of not giving a damn . . . and I feel GREAT!

They should bottle this shit up and market it.

Here’s the soundtrack for today’s post courtesy of Lea Michele, Cannonball:

If you’re in a stick in the mud kind of mood and don’t want to listen to it, the gist of the song is about getting broken down and wondering if you aren’t losing your mind and then a moment comes when you’re just like . . . fuck it.  I’m getting out and going to start living my mother fluffin life.  And then fly gracefully like a cannonball.

O.o  Sounds like my kind of grace.  “I’m a swan!” . . . “No you’re not, you’re a big hunk of round metal.” or whatever cannonballs are made out of.

This staying in my own emotions is so  f r e e i n g!!  So much chatter and clutter and worry in my head has vanished.  It’s just . . . *p o o f* magically gone.

I just want to keep hugging myself saying, “Ohhhhhhhhhhh yooooouuuuuuu!  I LOVE you so much!  You’re so snuggly and warm and adorable like some sort of kitten teddy bear hybrid!”  I feel like I’ve just been reunited with my long lost best friend.

Gemini.  We’re our own best friend.

There’s been speculation that I possibly had a twin in the womb.  I even had a dream which led me to a spontaneous *memory* of having been in the womb and my twin dying and leaving me alone in there and all of the resulting trauma of absorbing said twin.  (Horrifying doesn’t even begin to describe it.)

So who knows?  Maybe I really am my own . . . uh . . . twin.

Anyways, it feels good to be coming back up from the abyss.  That place is the pits!  Am I right? {nodding head, looking around for validation}

On my walk this morning, I actually started to mouth the words to the song I was listening to without realizing it.  Do you know what that means?  I wasn’t feeling self conscious out in public!  That is OUTSTANDING!!!

I’m not thinking about what other people are thinking or wondering about me at all!  I just feel good in myself and it’s starting to just shine outward instead of other’s influences pushing inward into me.

It feels so great to allow myself to get to feel whatever it is I’m feeling without needing a reason.

It’s leading to spontaneous singing like a song bird, and busting into dance moves while standing in line at Starbucks.  And the smiling!  OMG!  Smiling is taking over my face!  My face is like “WHAT IS GOING ON?!  It hurts!”

I just feel happy and excited about whatever I’m doing.  My whole world is beginning to open back up.  The sun is coming back out.  Laughter and light is returning to my life.

Who knew?  Who knew it was as simple as that?  Letting other’s be responsible for their own feelings, and only being responsible for mine.  Obviously this is my own secret sauce mix, and isn’t the answer for everyone (or maybe even anyone) else.  But the simplicity of the switch and the bigness of the effect is blowing my mind.

Okay.  So that’s all for now.  I’m off to continue my being W o W e d by the world!

No mercy bunny

 

I’m Retiring From Giving A Damn

I’ve had it.  I’m just done.  {With what? Tell us!  Tell us!}

I’m tired of analyzing things to death.  I’m tired of trying to figure out how to be me, but not break any of the fifty-eleven “rules” of what it means to be a considerate and respectful member of the human race, and tying myself into pretzel knots from head to toe.

Am I being offensive? Am I being fair?  Am I being respectful?  Am I being sensitive?

Well how should I know?  I can’t know that for everyone else.  Honestly, it’s a little on the ridiculous side for me to have such expectations of myself.

I’m tired of explaining . . . I’m tired of clarifying . . . I’m tired of trying to guess what’s going on with someone else.

That’s what I’m done with.

So here’s what’s going to happen for me.  I’m going to focus on my own feelings.  I’m going to do what feels good.  I’m not going to do what doesn’t feel good.

If it offends, is insensitive, or hurts someone’s feelings . . . then whoever that is can choose to speak up and say something to me or not.

Otherwise, I’m not going to waste anymore of my time trying to figure out what I may have or have not done to someone else.

To be perfectly honest, I just don’t care anymore.

Do I speak too much, do I not speak enough, why do others go silent, why don’t they say what they’re feeling, is it me, is it them, is it projection, is it projected . . . it’s fucking crazy making is what it is.

So I’m done.

I’m going to do what I do, and how I want to do it.  If others care to join along in the fun, then awesome . . . if not . . . fine.

I love people and I love having them in my life.

But I’m no longer going to bend over backwards to be so understanding of everyone else, and totally neglect my own feelings.  That’s just stupid.

I suppose I was being concerned that if I was just being myself, that nobody would want to be my friend.  And again, that’s just stupid.  And again again, I just don’t care anymore.

I’m done apologizing for myself.  I am who I am and you can either like me for that or . . . you can piss off.

I.don’t.care.

I do what I want

I Am Tired Of The Fight In Me

While driving home from my daily Starbucks run to get my grande chai tea latte, I had a soul-weary breaking moment.

Everything I’ve been facing these last weeks had finally gone past my limit.  Not my daily limit . . . not my monthly limit . . . not my annual limit . . . but my absolute limit.

The anxiety I feel every time I put something out there.  The endless questions and doubts it raises in my head.

The fear and the ‘what ifs’ from all of this had finally reached a breaking point.

Something in me gave up.  And then something else opened and said to me, “I’m tired of the fight.”

I felt the thing giving up in me, continue to lose ground.

The something new that was opening up was encouraged by this and said, “I’m tired of hiding.”

I felt the giving up thing crack all around me . . . I felt huge chunks of it fall away.

I took a big satisfying breath.

I felt my feelings surface as my body relaxed and let go.

Something new then said, “Others are going to think whatever it is they are inclined to think when they read or hear your words.”

More letting go . . . more surrendering . . . tears of relief filling my eyes.

” . . . If you’re going to be judged and misunderstood regardless . . . then why not let yourself just be who you are inside? ”

“. . . at least that way, you’ll know with complete confidence that you have nothing to be sorry for . . . ”

“. . . and whoever it is that you are . . . whether it be evil . . . whether it be good . . . what does it matter?  How can you expect yourself to be anything other than who you are?”

I expend so much energy trying to hide so many parts of myself from others.  All of the things that have tried to come out, and then were yelled at or told they were bad by others.  All of the things misunderstood . . . tighten themselves small and they huddle inside my core seeking protection.

Afraid to be seen . . . afraid to be judged . . . afraid to come out and find out that they are evil . . . hated . . . unloved.

I’m tired of the fight . . . the fight to keep those things hidden when I’m around others.

I’m tired of hiding these parts of me.

For me, they are my emotions.  They show my sensitivity.  They show how much I care.  They show how much others affect me.  And I am ashamed of them.

I’m ashamed of how easily I cry.  I’m ashamed of how much and how often simple things move me.

I don’t like how others respond to me when they see my tears . . . I want to say, “My tears don’t mean I’m weak.  My sensitivity doesn’t mean I’m fragile or that I need to be handled with kid gloves.”

If I’m crying . . . then I’m okay . . . I am in my power.  My strength and my power comes from my deep emotions.  My tears are my strength.

When I hide my tears . . . when I use all of the muscles in my body to stop them from showing . . . when I use even more muscles to keep from looking like I’m trying to not cry . . . then I’m not okay.  Then I am being weak.  Then I am closed.  Then I am not in my power.  I am hiding.  I am fighting myself to not be seen.

I keep waiting for a day when it’s okay to be me.  Waiting for others to be more accepting and understanding of each other.  While I wait for this fictitious day to arrive, I corral my sensitivity and feelings into the dark shadows and lock them behind a gate when I’m around others so they don’t accidentally pop out unexpectedly.  I seem to think this will up my chances of being accepted by others.

I’m sure others do the same.  All of us walking around with the parts of us that we hide in the shadows whispering, “Please accept me . . . please accept me . . . ”

My breaking point is being breached . . . and I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t hide any of myself in the shadows anymore.  I just can’t.

I’d rather die.

When I hide aspects of me, it already is a sort of death.  A slow suffocation.

But I also feel like I will die if someone sees me in my raw emotions.  It would almost be easier for me to go into the middle of downtown and strip down naked.

When I write that I am crying . . . I am literally crying.  There are actual tears happening.  But to most who know me in real life, my crying is like some myth.  Sure, you read stories about it . . . but you don’t actually ever see it for real.

For me to be healthy, I must feel whatever I’m feeling in the moment I’m feeling it.  I hate meetings or anything that forces me to be around a bunch of people, because then I feel forced to restrain my emotions until I can get away to a quiet place alone and feel all of the emotions I repressed.  If I’m able to.  Usually once I’ve halted my feelings, it’s hard to call it back to express it.  Which is why it is so important for me to feel it in the moment, so that it may leave me immediately.

If I were to learn how to be comfortable expressing my emotions no matter who I was with or how many people were around me . . . I would always wish to be in other’s company.  I would no longer need to hide away.

I am so reserved around others because I’m using all of my resources to keep my emotions from showing.  It’s exhausting for me to hold things in for too long.  However, too many times when I’ve let my feelings show . . . I’ve felt humiliated by the person or outright rejected.

I don’t think others doubt how strong I am.  But I feel many would be surprised by how much I feel . . . how much I care . . . how much I love . . . how much the world I see around me moves me.

When I go for walks alone . . . I may just see a butterfly in the middle of a field of grass . . . or two of them . . . and see them start dancing with each other . . . and I feel something so profound move through me, that tears will just start pouring down my face . . . and then it’s gone, but I’m left with such gratitude, satisfaction, and happiness for life.

All my Aries in the 1st house, my emotions are raw . . . I feel and emote with no filters.  They burst out of me in all of their rawness taking myself and others by surprise.  Not so much my anger . . . it’s my tears and my laughter.  I don’t know when it’s going to happen . . . I don’t know in advance what is going to move me . . . so I hold myself tight and rigid at all times I’m in public so that one doesn’t escape me and embarrass me.

The older I get, the harder it becomes to stop holding myself tight even when I’m alone.  I can’t be one way  at home and another way in the world.  I need to always be how I am at all times.  I’m always changing from moment to moment . . . while I stay constant in being myself.

It’s not something I will ever overcome . . . I either am expressing and living it . . . or I am suppressing and repressing it.  There is no overcoming it.  There is no transcending it.  Why would I want to?  It’s pure expression from my soul.

Why am I so ashamed of it?  I don’t know.  I don’t think it matters anymore.  I just need to start being it again.  No more analyzing it.  No more rationalizing it.  No more avoiding it.  Just start living it.

God I’m so scared of this.

Calling on my inner mommy tiger to help me.

Calling on my inner mommy tiger to help me.

No Matter How Many Times I Fall, I Will Always Get Back Up

I had a thought provoking question asked of me that dovetailed nicely with a question I had asked myself last night as I fell asleep.  They were questions regarding my last relationship.

Driving into work (one of my ‘most likely to have an aha’ moment, 2nd only to the shower), the swirl of mess that I was trying to sort out suddenly cleared, and I was left with a single knowing or understanding within myself that hummed harmoniously . . . letting me know that I had found a Self Truth.

What attracts me to others?  I know there is a tendency to attract the part of ourselves that we don’t accept or reject.  (7th house)  But because my 7th house has been projectile puking projections on me since I was really young . . . those things people normally don’t accept about themselves and seek in others . . . I do see in myself and accept.  I have Uranus/Pluto there . . . I can be, and definitely am those things.  I am very clear about those being within me.  They scare me within me sometimes . . . but I see them.  I give them extra hugs.

My Venus and Mars in Aries are conjunct at 26 degrees.  I think this has more significance than I’ve realized.  My South Node is at 23 degrees Aries.  My feminine/masculine . . . they are together.  I know how to be whole.  I’m not bragging.  It’s not something I generally want people to know.  I tend to hide this, to protect it.  When I’m by myself and not in a committed relationship, I become peaceful and balanced inside.

I see Gemini as the one who reconciles duality.  Gemini is the sign of duality.  Gemini can be scattered and all over the place . . . and even moody . . . are you going to get the nice twin today, or the evil twin?  I have that Sun/Jupiter conjunction in Gemini.  (<– that’s like 20 people minimum) I then have those two in opposition to my Moon/Neptune in Sag.  An opposition is along the same lines as duality.  I have duality within duality within duality in my chart.  It is a chart of paradoxes.  For my sanity’s sake I have *had* to reconcile duality inside of myself.

I can see and hold so many angles and perceptions without conflict at one time, it should come with a circus soundtrack and confetti.

I am able to find peace . . . find happiness . . . find balance . . . all on my own.  I am able to self-nurture . . . I am able to defend myself.  Feminine/Masculine.  When you reach the kind of balance I have experienced, all of your needs are met within yourself.  I was genuinely joyful, happy, and full of life.  And it never ran out . . . it just kept welling up and through me.  So then my question to myself last night, was why did I bother getting involved in a relationship?  What was the point of that whole thing?  Why?

Which brings me back to my moment in the car.  The moment of clarity went a little something like this:

I felt so happy and whole before my last relationship . . . why would I leave that?  Now I’m having to limp myself back to that wholeness state . . . where I could’ve been anyways had I not got in the relationship.  That was stupid Jenn.  Why did you do that? {Puts one leg into her Wonder Woman underoos pants, careful to keep the other foot on the gas pedal of the car.}

Because I want a partner in life.  Not to help me become whole . . . but to be whole with me in life.  So why did you choose the person you did?  What was it about him that you saw?  {Carefully switching feet on the foot pedals of the car . . . starts to put other leg into her Wonder Woman underoos pants.}

: (  this is my owie getting ready to poke it’s head out.

While I love all of me . . . it’s been difficult finding someone who loves all of themselves.  And when someone doesn’t love and embrace all of who they are inside (and for real, not just to look good or to feel superior) . . . they aren’t okay with embracing and loving all of who I am.  And while I’m all for cooperating and finding a way that works for both (I actually tend to go a little too far in compromise much to my detriment) . . . what I’m not willing to do, is sacrifice who I am for another person.  {Scooches her underoos pants up over her jeans.}

So I get in a relationship . . . before long, I stop accepting who I am.  Yeah, the other person may blah blah blah and that has an influence on me having a harder time accepting myself.  But I don’t have control over them.  It’s my responsibility to keep accepting myself, even if it means the end of the relationship.  That’s not something someone else does to me. {Starts the task of getting her Wonder Woman underoos top on.  Over her sweater, need to look extra ridiculous.}

I live my life with my heart out on my sleeve.  That’s how I need to be.  I am strong . . . I am intense . . . I’m ridiculous . . . I’m silly . . . I can shift through 5 moods in one sentence.  For every single thing that I am naturally and at my core, I can find the negative side to them and the positive side to them.  The gifts and the curse.  I can see those in others too.  But I’m not seen back.  If the person isn’t aware enough . . . if the person doesn’t love themselves enough . . . if the person lives too much in fear . . . if the person identifies with their wound too much . . . if the person can’t see who they are under their own fear and worry . . . then they can’t see me.  {Underoos now on . . . straightening them out while keeping eyes focused on the road.}

And that makes me feel so alone in the world.

I self validate.  If they can’t self validate . . . then I become their crutch.

I self nurture.  If they can’t self nurture during times that I’m unable to be there for them . . . I become their drug.

I am guided by inner authority.  If they listen solely to authority outside of themselves . . . I don’t have their support in being and doing what it is I know I have to do.

I don’t want . . . no, I can’t become less than who I am in order to have a partner.  It’s not in me.  That’s not who I am.  My will to survive as ME will always win out in the end.  {Busts out the golden paper burger king crown she keeps stealthily hidden under the driver’s seat.}

I need someone as authentic, open, intense, and as powerful as me.  I need that so that I am allowed to be all of myself when I’m around them.  If they aren’t . . . I will inevitably have to sacrifice myself in order to have a partner.  That’s not the other person’s fault . . . that’s just the fact of the matter.

I can only find that by being unapologetically me when I’m with someone, and letting them be responsible for their responses to me and both working through the things that come up.  {Waits for a stoplight to assemble the gold crown.}

But that’s where my fear resides.

How many times can a person, being who they are, be rejected . . . and continue to love themselves?  Especially when they’re the only one believing in themselves.  I don’t want to be self-delusional, so every time that happens I tear myself apart to find my part and my responsibility in the situation, and I work hard to heal that part of me.

I get back to a place of balance and love for myself . . . I try again . . . I fall again.

I cycle through again . . . am I being delusional . . . am I being fair . . . is there something in me I’m doing that I’m blind to?  Rip . . . shred . . . no mercy.  Get back to a place of balance and love for myself.  Get back out there, and try again.  {Gets crown on.  Checks in mirror.  Hair sticking out everywhere?  Check.  Ears sticking out like a dork? Check.  Nods and smiles confidently.}

I have been doing this for as long as I can remember.

I fall, I pick myself back up, and I try again.  I fall, I pick myself back up, and I try again.  Always changing.  Always improving.  Always taking responsilibty for my part.  Always looking at the situation from the other person’s point of view.  Refining my rough edges.  I fall, pick myself back up, and I try again.

I have been absolutely ruthless with myself.

I have learned a lot.  I didn’t actually get to the full wholeness within myself until the Summer of 2012.  I found my personal magical combination that unlocked the real me inside.  And from there I could see I wished to have a partner to share life with, while in this awesome place of wholeness.  When I met the man from my last relationship, I saw that possibility.  The stars were aligned . . . everything magical came perfectly into place.

And then I fell.  Again.

But this time . . . something different did happen.  I did learn how to open my heart while in a relationship.  I learned how to overcome that fear of being who I am while I’m with someone.  That was a goddamn miracle all by itself.  But as with all Pluto lessons . . . I *still* have no control over other people.  Just because I got to that space myself . . . does not mean my partner automatically would. {At next stoplight, opens the glove box to pull out her long yellow yarn hair ribbon.  Nay . . . not hair ribbon . . . her lasso of Truth.}

And same lesson with my son . . . there’s nothing I can do about the other person.  I can love me with all my heart . . . I can love them with all my heart . . . but that does NOT mean, it will work out.  It doesn’t mean I will get my wish.

So this last smackdown still smarts.  The higher you go, the harder you fall.  But I had to take that risk.  I had to take that chance.  I didn’t want to live my life having to close my heart every time I got close to someone just because I’m terrified.  So I took the chance.  I still got rejected.  It’s not personal.  It hurts like hell, and I’m having to self nurture like I’ve never had to do before . . . but it wasn’t personal . . . he just wasn’t in that place . . . that’s nothing to do with me. {Parks car.}

So I am now picking myself back up.  I’m taking in the lessons learned.  I’m pulling myself back together . . . gaining back my strength . . . getting my feminine and masculine back in balance and talking nicely with each other.

This one smarted enough, that I have WAY less trouble speaking up for myself.  Which . . . is one of my “things” for this life.  The sabian symbol for my Sun sign at 12 degrees Gemini is:  “A Slave-Girl Demands Her Rights From Her Mistress“.  Where I stray . . . is when something happens that results in me having to be smaller and less than I am . . . I fold.  My brain tells me that it’s me “being fair” . . . after all this is a relationship and you can’t be so stubborn.

Well, fucking duh, Jenn.  You are stubborn.  Why is that so bad?  Why do you love your stubbornness alone . . . but suddenly it’s a problem around other people?  Why do you do that to yourself?  I misunderstood compromise and fairness.  It doesn’t mean you stop being that part of you . . . it doesn’t mean you hide that part of you around that person . . . it means you discuss it openly.  {Looking into the vanity mirror, starts putting on her Strawberry Shortcake lipgloss.  Now she’s ready.}

Anytime I’ve discussed a misunderstanding with another person, and we were BOTH open and receptive (vs defensive and arrogant) . . . a solution that was a great big win for both people was able to be found.  And in the process, each got an opportunity to step up their game and GROW as individuals.  But it only works when both are being open, honest, and willing to grow.

I’m not requesting that someone change for me.  I’m requesting that they grow with me.  You have to have a certain amount of humbleness and flexibility.  If you always have to be right . . . it won’t work.  If you think you’re perfect and I’m a spaz for constantly seeking to grow and improve myself . . . it’s not going to work.  If you don’t trust my motives or are suspicious of me . . . it’s not going to work.  If you’re not willing to take a chance and look like a TOTAL FOOL . . . then it’s not going to work.  {Gets out of her car . . . stands there for a moment with the car door still open, staring into the distance . . . contemplative.}

I’m not static.  I’m not a ONE, SINGLE, THING that you can tie me down with.  I will always . . . always continue to strive to grow and improve and change.  I don’t plan on one day saying, oh . . . I’m good . . . I’m going to just stop doing things now.  No.  That will never be me.  If you want someone who will always be one way, that’s not me.  If you want someone who will always be contained . . . that for fucking sure will never be me.  If you want someone who isn’t going to do embarrassing things . . . that will never be me.  {Puts a foot up on the door jam, looking like Captain Morgan on the Spiced Rum bottle.}

Ok . . . so I fell down again . . . and yeah I sometimes feel like a total ass for opening up like that and falling on my face.  But only for a few seconds.  I let myself feel embarrassed and humiliated . . . and then it passes . . . and then I see all the great awesome that I gained from it.  I see the places I could improve.  {Lifts chin up in strength, defiance, and resolve.}

And then I start getting my ass . . . back . . . up.  And I will try again.  The odds are totally in my favor.  One of these days . . . it will happen.  One day, I will find that someone who sees all of my insanity, my weird quirks, my intensity, my ugly face cry complete with slobber, my 5am get the fuck out of my face, my love and passion for life, my waaaay too fucking loud laughing, my big kid ridiculousness . . . and they will love me BECAUSE of all of those things.  {Wind starts blowing through hair.  Looking majestic as fluff.}

I just know it.  I just know one day I will find that person.  And until then . . . I’m not fucking giving up.

Some Scorpion Love.

Some Scorpion Love.

I Support Who You Really Are . . . Not Your Dysfunctional Behavior

One way that I make myself smaller around others, is also how I become an enabler.  In an effort to be supportive and understanding, I don’t speak up when I hear someone saying something that they *think* is their truth . . . but I can clearly see that it’s a line of thinking that is keeping them small.  There are many other reasons I do it.  I don’t want to be a know-it-all.  I know that most likely they’ll say, “No, no that’s not it.”  At one point I started to think that I should just let them figure it out for themselves . . . which leads me back to being supportive and understanding.  Which I seem to think means always agreeing with what someone is saying.

I can be supportive and understanding AND say how I see it.

There’s also a time and a place.  When a person is having an emotional breakdown . . . that’s a good time to let them say whatever the hell needs to come out of their mouth.  A good old fashioned rant.  It doesn’t have to make sense, it doesn’t have to be rational . . . it just needs to come out in the open and be said so that it doesn’t stay inside of them and poison them to death.

But if I have a friend who is repeating the same thing over and over for 50 conversations or over a period of years, and I can clearly see how it’s limiting them and keeping them from accomplishing what they want to accomplish?  I’m going to say something.  I see the quotes online about “a real friend . . . ” and then a bunch of stuff that sounds all romantic and beautiful . . . but it’s the behavior of an enabler.  It’s how we keep each other in our boxes.  To me,  I feel like I’m being more supportive and more of a friend when I help pull them out of the illusion that is keeping them small.

We have become so afraid of offending someone.  I remember being in a bookstore with my mom in the 90s, and laughing our heads off at a book full of politically correct ways to say something.  Someone isn’t short . . . they’re vertically challenged.  Bawahahahahahahah!  We were laughing at how ridiculous this “politically correct” way of speaking was becoming such a thing.  Guess what?  Once upon a time, when I was in school and someone was being an idiot . . . we weren’t afraid to say, “You’re being retarded.”

Also, now with the bullying thing, we’re afraid to be truthful to anyone because we don’t want to hurt their feelings.  Discernment people.  Discernment.  There is bullying and yes that is hell on earth for a great many people, and YES that needs to be addressed.  But accepting people for who they really ARE . . . and supporting people’s dysfunctional behaviors are two different things.  I support YOU . . . but I do not support the dysfunctional behavior that is preventing you from being who you ARE.  You are NOT your dysfunction.  “Oh, but what if this is just how I am.”  Well, if you’re miserable and bitter and suffering and complaining . . . then I have news for you . . . it’s NOT who you are.

So many times I can see, clear as day, what is going on with someone.  How they’re limiting themselves.  How they’re getting in their own way.  How they’re trapped in an illusion.  And when the moment is right, I say something.  And then what I get is an onslaught of no that’s not it, no but this is why I do this, and that doesn’t work for me, and I tried that before.  Just on and on.  All of the self-justifications they tell themselves that keeps them exactly in the place they profess to not want to be anymore.

And that’s when my need to understand gets in my own way.  I start listening to all of the things they tell themselves for why that isn’t true . . . and then I fall into their illusion with them.  Then I hear myself repeating that for them too.  I also figure that they must know themselves better than I do . . . so I don’t say anything more.  That, my friends, is one way in which we enable and keep each other down.

Sometimes I don’t know why someone is struggling.  That’s when I say, “I don’t know” and I just keep listening.  But then there are moments that I see with clarity (Aries) exactly the situation.  But where I disempower myself, is that when the person tells me that I’m wrong (oh, no . . . that’s not the reason why . . . blah blah blah) and then I back off . . . I lose confidence in myself.  I start to doubt myself and my clarity.  I start to get lost in the fog of confusion along with my friend.  Then I start falling into similar situations as them.  Then I find myself trying to climb back out of the hole on my own without them because they don’t want to see the way out.  Then I feel guilty for leaving them in the dark.

So I am realizing, that me speaking up when I get those moments of clarity IS a part of who I am.  And instead of folding and going down the rabbit hole with my friend, I need to stand my ground in what I know to be true.  I’m just not someone who can stand there and watch someone take themselves or others down.  I just can’t.  When I do, I have to lose that part of me that is like that.  My will, my confidence, my passion for life.  I have to sacrifice those things in myself when I stay around someone who is doing that, but refuses to see it or to do something about it.

I don’t want to lose that part of myself ever, ever again.  So if you’re looking for a friend to support you indefinitely in your self limiting illusions . . . then I’m not the person you want as a friend.  It’s nothing personal.  It’s just not who I am.

I want to be surrounded by people open to life and open to growing.  People who are humble enough to see their own faults and own up to them.  People who support and appreciate me, the real me, and who also try to hold me to that standard.  If you see bullshit in something I’m saying, call me out.  Be open to discussing it in a non-defensive manner.  Don’t go all passive on me.  Call.me.out.  I appreciate and respect that.

I do not wish to be surrounded by people who insist on being closed down and victims their whole life.  People who are still repeating the same complaints now as they did 20 years ago.  People who are more interested in getting attention for their struggle, than in actually doing something about it to improve their lot in life.  It’s FINE if you don’t want to change.  I don’t care.  If that’s your *thing* then have fun.  But.  I don’t want to be around it.  I don’t have to be around it.  I get to make that choice for myself and it has NOTHING to do with accepting someone unconditionally or not.  I do accept them.  I accept that they are like that.  But accepting or loving someone unconditionally does not mean you have to be around it.  That’s THEIR choice to not grow or change.  Not mine.

That whole, “you can’t control others, you can only control your response to them” is exactly what that’s about.  You can’t make someone change.  They have to make that choice.  If their choices make it so that you become less of yourself or starts to harm you . . . you need to make a choice yourself.  To stay and continue the damage and be an enabler (which again . . . isn’t a judgment, it’s simply an option and a choice), or to chose to not be around it.

It may be misunderstood, it may make them angry, it may make them retaliate . . . and that’s because they’re scared.  They’re scared they can’t do it without you.  And that’s normal . . . that’s expected.  But how are they ever going to move past their fear if they never have to face it or push through it?  People need to be tested.  People need to be challenged.  If you keep helping them *just* because they’re scared . . . you are limiting them.  I don’t know how many times I’ve found that the very thing that scared me the most, is the thing I needed to be running towards . . . not away.

For example, my son struggles with the idea of trying to make it on his own out in the world.  He’s scared he’s not going to be able to do it.  So he comes up with a million logical reasons why he has to procrastinate it or not do this or that at all.  He’s scared.  If I become scared with him, and don’t push him because I’m afraid he’ll fail too . . . then I’m enabling and limiting him.  Because I know for a matter of fact, that getting out in the world is exactly what he needs to do.  He has a Capricorn MC just like me, so I know that he needs to do this process in a slow and steady manner.  So I slowly and steadily point him in that direction.  I see he’s scared . . . but I know he can do it . . . so I continue to march along with him showing him the way.

People may think they don’t want to be called out on their stuff . . . but when it happens . . . the result is usually a feeling of relief.  Like finally!  Someone isn’t letting me get away with my own bullshit.

I feel that to be more loving and supportive.  A short moment of awkwardness or discomfort . . . but then growth and forward movement for both.  Much more satisfying than a lifetime of suffering and zero growth . . . but hey . . . at least I always agreed with ya.

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