Me, Myself & I

 

The best part of my spirit wants to be in control. The ego, the horrible part of me, doesn't agree. But the ego is about to go down for the count. This ego, who I ashamedly call Me creates ugliness, and negative emotions. It reacts from past pain and walls itself off. This Me acts defensive and coils like a scared, cornered cat; claws out and ready to strike. The feeling is physical and the reaction, unconscious and swift. The spirit, the real me, the one who feels such joy at the opportunity to love and exist; who knows clearly the things that bring happiness and purpose wants to punch that me in the face. I (who I shall now name that good spirit) wants Me (yucky me) to go the fuck away. I am sick of Me and the nonsense. I am sick of Me and the trail of hurt. Me is ruining this beautiful life that I am running out of time to create. This gift of every minute of every day is being polluted by Me and I am done.

I has recently taken up arms against Me. And it is exciting. I sees what Me is doing and is finally getting a leg up. Recently, an incident occurred where Me freaked out big time. Fear, blame, hate, and horrible ugly words came out of Me. And I watched from the sidelines. And as I watched I was embarrassed. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that that was a part of me. I keep saying ugly because there really is no better word to describe looking at this part of me and what it was doing. It was being so hurtful and just so damn disgusting. I felt sorry for it. So fuckin sorry. Sorry for a lifetime of carrying that pain. Sorry for the struggle to get away from it and that has taken so long. I felt such immense sadness. I felt tired.

I have been on this journey for a long time now and began to think that I was just a bad seed that couldn’t be saved but, I think I got it now. Something about this time just clicked. It felt different. It felt like this couldn’t possibly be the way it’s going to go. Just can’t. I told Me to just shut up and went about mentally preparing to deal with the situation. I sent Me to a corner for a big fucking time out. It was a rough few days, battling silently while trying to function in the reality of children and responsibility. I was really able to clear my head, organize my thoughts and be prepared to deal with the situation, not from this place of fear and anger, but from a removed place of common sense and thoughtfulness. I was ready to talk and deal with it. And as those thoughts came I received a phone call that normally Me would have been ready to pick up and unload. But we handled it differently this time. We said things that we have carried around that needed to be freed. We were calm, cool and collected. We felt the pain of the other person involved and we approached with compassion.

It was a watershed moment for our spirit and it felt so hopeful. It felt freeing and I felt Me really back down and feel defeated. I no longer want to be a prisoner of Me. I no longer want to be ruled by fear and pain. I want to be able to be calm, conscious, and thoughtful. Maybe, just maybe, this battle can be the one that wins the war.

Om Shrim What?

So what is an Om Shrim Maha? It is part of my mantra. It goes like this Om Shrim Maha Lakshmi Swaha. It is all about abundance. Having enough. I need to honor the idea of having enough because deep inside of me I struggle with that idea all the time. Life’s big jolt to me came as a young girl. I went from a seemingly normal life to an upside down jumble. As a single mom, my mom did the absolute best but things were scarce. There were times I relied on friends families for food. It wasn’t as a bad as it could be, but at times it was hard. My self esteem took a hit by way of my step dad leaving us and my biological dad not wanting contact. My young, free spirit began a lifetime struggle with enough. Will we have enough for the rent? Will we eat? Will I ever get enough love to fill the gaping empty space left by my father’s abandonment? I struggled for years and filled my pain with food. Now when I look in the mirror the body that is mine is I do not want. I was never satisfied with anything and always looked for more and the next thing. Next day, next activity, next project. What’s next? I want this, I need that. I could never settle into the right now. The present. That what I have now is all I need for right his very minute. I kept thinking the next moment would make me better or offer something to finally take away the deep, pain. It didn’t and it never will. When I married a man that did want me no matter what and then settled on being a Wiccan, and then discovered meditation and the then yoga things began to settle down. My partner showed me that someone can love you and not leave. Through the years he gave me the gift of safety and love and strength that gave me the space to appreciate myself and realize that it wasn’t me, it was them and that I am worthy of love. My value is me and no one can take that from me by not being in my life. Wicca, yoga, and meditation have taught and continue to teach me about the present and the quiet. I feel more relaxed, stronger, more balanced, and focused on what I am doing now. I have still to let go of a lot. I used to want to be fixed. Just over everything. I realized that you are never really perfect and in that imperfection you are just fine! The corny saying about the journey versus the destination is actually true! So I chose this mantra because I still have those lingering doubts and I want to keep focusing on having enough and being enough. I want to bask in the abundance of the love I share with my husband and children. I want to celebrate the deepest, true me and that I am abundant of light and spirit. That I am enough. Om Shrim Maha Lakshmi Swaha.

The Passing

I find myself oddly upset by the passing of the man who I knew as my father for the first 12 years of my life. The subject of this man and the other called "father" isn't an easy one. Neither deserves the title. The damage done by them both cost me my self esteem and sanity, and yet on some level I still pine for them both. Their love and acceptance.This man that died was my step father. He was with my mother since my birth and I only knew him as dad. I was a daddy's girl. I have the pictures to prove it. Then one day he just left. He moved across town to some other woman's house. He became someone else's father. I found out later in life that they have his name. He never adopted me. He never looked back. Not a visit or a phone call ever again. He knew where to find me always; kept in touch with an aunt & uncle.
I suppose my sadness has more to do with the fact that now I know for sure I will never get an apology. I always figured at some point a person might have the decency to just reach back and apologize for the deep, lasting pain they caused. Especially since he died from ALS and had a slow decline. Often one wants to settle the things in life that maybe didn't sit right.
As a parent myself now I can't even comprehend doing this to a child. I would never leave my children behind. I have one adopted child and my devotion to him is even more intense than my own son because of what I went through. I think of how much I love them and just imagine the pain of just up and leaving one day. Which leaves me to "father" number two.
The matter of my biological father is even more complicated. I can see how maybe during those first years he figured I had a father and maybe he would just back off. There weren't the open adoptions back then like there are now where we can all be just one big, happy family. He has always known where I am and has made the choice not to know me. I had a relationship with his mother, my grandmother and sort of with him in fits & starts. I visited him a few times, wrote letters; some of desperation and some of anger. We took a trip once and he told me his side of the story. It always seemed like he wanted to know me but just never committed. Some people don't know how to communicate. I can almost never get to him because the real issue there isn't so much him as his wife. His wife is a small minded, hostile person who I think resents me because I represent my mom. When I was younger I think she was scared my mom would swoop in and take back her ex. I represented that fear, that connection. They don't have their own children. It seems they could have made a place for me. He could have. But he didn't.So I spent my life confused. Hurt and rejected by not one but two fathers. I hid behind my weight. While I take responsibility for myself, my emotional eating comes directly from this issue. I consistently picked bad men who rejected me so I could feel it over and over again. The pain. The loneliness. Socially I became awkward and aloof. It made me angry because I remember the happy, regular little girl I was. The promise I had.At 44 I feel like I finally moved on. I came to know that I wasn't me it was them. I see that while my story sucks, some people have had it so much worse and I really should just put my big girl pants on and get on with it. And I do. I have an amazing husband that loves me despite my craziness. I have two wonderful sons. I have a life that is full of love and acceptance from the people that matter to me.

Everytime I have a feeling about either one of them, I try to immediately replace it with one about my mom and my grandmother. The people who did take care of me. The people who didn't leave me behind. The people who loved me and believed in me.
When my mom was sick,this man, this stepfather, visited her in the hospital. I was mortified. I was so protective of her, that when I found out he was on his way I flew over there, determined to banish him. How dare he go to her, the woman who he drove to a suicide attempt when he left us, at this her most vulnerable moment. She had had a stroke and couldn't even talk correctly. When I got there he was already gone but in her own way my mom told me to chill out. That it was ok. She had come to her own peace about it. It didn't matter to her anymore. Only I mattered to her.

So I am confused that I am sad at his passing. I never even considered that either one of them could die, but they are getting older. Even though I did my own healing, maybe it is the lost opportunity to close out those chapters. I guess through it all I always remained hopelessly optimistic. Silly girl.

In the beginning

I have always been completely disinterested when it comes to blogs. I have them for business of course, but to what end would i put myself and my personal business out there for the actual whole world to see. Frankly, who cares. But somewhere and i suppose completely from the evil mind of the ego, comes the idea of sharing your journey to hopefully touch others. The cathartic act of journaling it out and purging from the brain is always appealing. The heart of a writer feels they must write. So it is a combo of all of those things that puts me smack dab in the middle of a blog. Probably too late. Blogging is so 2006. As usual late to everything.