“…gifts from suffering…”

While in treatment at The Healing Center, I found that I heard this phrase a lot: “…gifts from suffering…”

That’s pretty deep to me.

A lot of times I can spend time dwelling on all of the losses and all of the pain and just basically stay focused on my trauma in the past.  But when I think about what my gifts are from suffering, I feel “the journey”.

Although there have been and will be times that seem dismal and overwhelming… the tides of life keep it moving.  It truly is a journey.

My gift from suffering is the ability to tune into another person’s emotions on a very empathic level.  I feel their pain.  I feel their joy.  While it’s a bit much sometimes, it is a gift.  I feel as though I can relate to people and show a level of compassion that people who have never experienced trauma could.  I feel comfort in seeking those people out, because they understand, I understand.  It’s a connection that a lot of people in life will never experience.  I feel like I am alive, alert… aware that life is precious but can be gone in the blink of an eye.  And just because we are breathing most certainly does not mean we are alive.

Blessed with gifts from suffering.

I ask you, my friend, can you identify a gift from your suffering?

In This Moment

My days are filled with sadness and sorrow.

I looking for unicorns, glitter and better tomorrows.

My choices are my own.

But it’s like I don’t even know myself in certain moments of time.

It’s like some other person, thing or energy overtakes me

and sings me a lullaby.

It makes me feel weak.

It makes me feel inadequate.

It makes me feel humbled.

It’s like a wild roller coaster ride that I’m in the passenger seat.

I feel like I don’t know me.

But as soon as I think I am starting to learn,

the roller coaster starts all over again.

I won’t give up.

But this shit is not easy.

My Rant for Today

Fuck the unicorn and glitter today.  This asshole, loser, selfish, and cold bastard is never going to send me my mother’s teddy bears.  They were mine as a child and she always held on to them.  As I got older, I started buying her teddy bears to add to “our” collection.  I never wanted shit from my mother and after her death, that was all I wanted.  I didn’t care about what little money there was nor any of her other belongings.  Hell, his kids had already broke in and robbed her of most of her belongings prior to that.

I’m sad.  I’m hurt and I hate him.

That is all.

A Poem For You, Mom

Every morning I miss you so much.

It’s like I can’t accept this moment your gone.

My mother, my nemesis, my worst enemy.

We could have had more if only you’d see.

I don’t know when you stopped caring,

or if you ever did.

All I know is, your gone.

And what could have been,

will never be.

 

 

It’s like I feel this immense weight on my shoulders.  She perpetrated abuse against me in a multitude of ways.  Her death just finalized things and what I always thought we would be, never was.  She never did come around to be my mother.  She just stayed an addict.  She completely chose men and drugs over me.  I understand that she came from a horrible background and was abused herself.  But never once did she ever even try to quit or even contemplate it.

 

It’s so hard for me to accept the fact that our relationship was all it was.  I cry daily over her death.  The closure that I got from this was most certainly not what I ever imagined.  It hurts like hell.  It’s been 9 months but it seems like I’m grieving so much more lately.

Looking for a Trace…

I studied the mirror to find a trace of you.

I turned to the left, tilted my head, smiled, unsmiled…

I locked on my own eyes and it was there that I found you.

RIP Mom

7/4/2011

I Will Not Give Up

I’ve been sitting here racking my brains trying to utilize tools that I have been given to live a healthy and fruitful life… but I am still kind of floundering with “mom issues”.  I can’t make sense of it in a way that doesn’t deeply pain me.  I am still having a hard time dealing with accepting it for what it was.  I don’t know how to deal with this on my own so I did make an appointment with a therapist.  Just another hoop to jump along my path to recovery and wholeness.  I have faith in the process and I will not give up on myself.

No Rhyme, No Reason

I am extremely thankful for today.  I am enjoying the solitude and the silence.  An occasional sound of the keys clicking, but for the most part, it’s like a comforting melody to my soul.  In the moment… I feel blessed, grateful, relaxed, contemplative, hopeful, strong and beautiful.

I know my own heart.  I know my own intentions.  I’m truly beginning to become my own friend.  I no longer despise the woman I see in the mirror.  It’s like I’m waking up from a nightmare to find out it was all real.

I survived.

Wow.

That alone, is an amazing statement considering what I have been through.

Lost My Religion

I look back at my blog and see where I lost my religion, somewhere along the way.  I still consider myself to be very spiritual.  But I look to mother nature, the sun and the beauty all around.  I no longer associate with Christianity.

“I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” – Gandhi

I Like Living.

I like living. Agatha Christie Quote.

Being My Own Friend – Connecting With the World

When I hit a bump along my recovery journey, I will continue to reference back here:

Connect With Others to Get Friendly With Yourself

Crafting has been very therapeutic for me lately.  Makes for nice gifts and the feeling of creating something so beautiful is validating to my inner child.