Archive | Discomfort RSS feed for this section

Tamper Proof or Use Proof?

28 Apr

Last night I attended a work event in New York City. I was a finalist to win $70,000.   I was one of the 4 finalists out of 12, but in the end, my bank account will remain the same.

It was a nice evening, but the dinner majored on drinks and minored on food.  Each time I would walk up to the bar thinking I should switch to water or selzer, the bartender would hand me another Tito’s and lemonade.  Stunned, I would just take it.  And then end up drinking it.

About 10:00 PM, I thought maybe  I had had enough vodka.  I thought of staying to be sociable, but the few people I spoke to told me they staying to “take advantage of the free alcohol.” I didn’t think that was a good choice seeing as their speech was already slurred so I left.

On the way back to the hotel I decided to go into the 7-11 on the corner to get some water.  I usually carry motrin with me but in my rush for my train that afternoon I forgot quite a few things I normally traveled with.  I bought a little travel size box of Advil.  I figured it couldn’t hurt to fend off the potential headache in the morning due to my very efficient bartender.  I wanted to take some “prophylacticly.” (I love that word for some reason).

I got to my room and opened the box.  There were two little packets in it.  I grabbed one.  I tried to open it with no success.  I looked closer.  There was a dotted line with an arrow going through it.  I tried bending at the line, ripping it, folding it, stabbing it, twisting it and biting it.  I could not get it opened.  I was starting to sweat. I thought about giving up but I wasn’t going to let this little packet get the best of me.

A scissors would probably have helped, but everyone knows you can’t travel with scissors.  They will take them at security.  So, even though I was traveling by train and not air, I did not even think to travel with scissors.

I got madder and madder, remembering the unopened pouch of “Sensual Strut” body wash that was lying on the floor of my shower at home, unopened.   Again, a scissors would have done the trick, but who thinks of bringing one into the shower?  That pouch was indeed “tamper proof” and had never been used.  It had left it on the floor of my shower and it stared at me, daring me to try again.  I never had.

But tonight I would not lose.  I decide to try the second pouch.  But no luck.  I finally had an idea. I searched in my bag for my keys. I found the biggest key and tried stabbing the damn pouch.  After 5 tries I almost gave up.  On the 6th, though, I finally broke through the “tamper-proof” barrier.  I stuck my finger in the little hole pulled and pulled until I got it big enough to get the pills out.

“Success,”  I thought.  I swallowed the two pills with one of my very large “buy 2 for the price of 1” bottles of water.

But why should this be so hard?  Who are we trying to keep out of the pouch?  It’s already inside a glued shut box.  Is it the bad people, innocent children, or the person who actually wants to take the thing?

Whose job is it to come up with these things?  Do they ever try to use it themselves? The questions continued in my mind until I finally exhausted myself into sleep………

And now it’s the next morning.  I’m on the train going home and staring at the second pouch.  It couldn’t really have been that hard.  Maybe it was just the vodka.   Just for kicks and giggles I just tried to open it, thinking it might be easier in the daylight.

Well, nothing changed.  It still didn’t open.  Oh well.

Maybe they should replace “tamper proof” with “use proof.”

 

 

 

 

 

Feedback Requested

18 Apr

Hey guys:

I have a project with an end date of June 12, 2017.   My goal is to have at least 25 blog entries and 50 comments by then.

I am currently at 22 blogs since February started which is way more then I thought I would have.  Technically, 4 were before the  project started, so I am at 18.  I am sure I can do at least 7 more before June 12.   And that’s a breakthrough in itself since I had written much in the  past few years and when I did, I password protected them so no one could read them.

So this is a new world.  I am having fun and going for a breakthrough in Freedom.  In the past, I was afraid to tell people about my blog for two main reasons:

  • I have always been very careful to avoid being criticized.  This seems to be putting up a large sign and asking people for criticism.
  • I have a thing about “getting it right” and frankly I don’t know enough about blogs to even know how to get this right

So what I have decided to do is let go of my fear and “wing it.”  I’ve started telling people about this so I can have a HUGE breakthrough in being free to express my real self..

And this blog is the real me.  The one I’ve hidden from the world in an attempt to be “appropriate,” “careful” and under the radar.  The few times I posted in prior years I was told “you can’t post that.”  And I took down the posts, sucked my thumb, and hid in my corner for a few years each time.

This time I am going for it.  But I would like some feedback.  Here are some questions i have:

  1.  How can I measure whether I am having a breakthrough?  By Visits?  By comments?  Views?  Follows?
  2. How do I know if people like what I’m writing or if it’s making a difference?
  3. Should I block the earlier stuff when I was still married and venting and spewing?

One woman I know read the earlier stuff and said it reminded her of her marriage.  She related to it.  So maybe I should leave it.

So here are my requests to you, reader:

  1. Please comment so I know you’ve been here and what you think.  Be gentle if you don’t like it but feedback would be great.
  2. If you understand blogs and have a suggestion for how I can measure whether people are coming, let me know.  I currently had 8 comments (2 were spam so I didn’t approve them), but my goal by yesterday was 10 so I didn’t make it.
  3. By May 1 I want to have at least 15 comments, but a breakthrough would be 25.  So, please tell your friends and please comment even if you just say, I read it.  (That would kind of be like telling me ‘oh you got your hair cut’ and not saying if you liked it, but I’ll take it for now.)
  4. Make suggestions or follow it or whatever  people do.

Thank you for reading this and  participating in my breakthrough results.  It’s really exciting (in the moments when I’m not terrified)!!!!!!

 

Saying NO

18 Apr

Why is it so hard to say no?  I wanted to tell the guy from last Friday that I was not interested, but I couldn’t.

I said anything but no, thinking he would get the message.  But he still kept calling and texting.

“Ugh,”  I thought.  “WTF?”

And then I realized it was me. I wasn’t being clear.  I was talking around it.

So I sent him one last text.  “We don’t want the same things.  This isn’t working for me.  I’m sorry.  Thank you for your generosity.”

And I blocked him.

Why was it so hard to be straight and say NO.

On another Wisdom call, I brought up my struggle.  “We are taught that NO is bad by 2 years old.  We unlearn how to say it,”  Joyce, our wise wisdom leader said.

The Wisdom course, among many things, looks at the ages of some of our conversations.  When we get stuck at a young age, we only have the capacity of that age.

I didn’t want to be bad, mean, or hurtful to this guy.  Plus, I didn’t want him to get mad.

In “Lovable,” Suzanne tells us that if this is not resonating with what we want, then it is just not the right person.   And, I feel much better not having to deal with him.  I don’t miss him.  But a part of me does feel bad for some reason, and this week I lost different parts of my computer, hurt my hip, and couldn’t think clearly.  And I thought that God must be punishing me in some way.

But, I got clear about that last night.  I have been a “clearing” for “that I do stupid things,”  “I am bad and deserve to be punished,” and “life is hard.”  So, I am creating a new clearing as of today.

“Life is fun and easy.  I have my shit together.  I am perfect as I am.”

Things are looking good now.   I found my computer, and got the missing chord and pen back.  Plus, the car I backed into  didn’t have any damage.  So as soon as I find the notebook I use for work, I will be all set.

Thanks for listening.  I am going to post this now.  I have been reworking it since last week and I am tired of trying to “get it right.”

Getting into communication

11 Apr

Last night I was drinking wine and eating chips and I didn’t freaking care.  I didn’t know what the hell was going on with me.  I definitely wasn’t eating because I was hungry.

Today was weigh in day.  Oh well.  Down .2 which was lucky.  And, I know I would have been down more had I not been so messed up last night.

I didn’t even know why I was eating.  I didn’t even know what I was so upset about.

So today, I started talking.  It started with my work out partner.  He had made a couple of unrelated comments last week that stuck in my brain.  I had twisted them together and made them about me.  In my mind I became so wrong and bad an unlovable that today I could barely talk to him.  I started with the insults and sarcasm.  Then I stopped, remembering yesterday’s “fine, fuck you” lesson.  So I asked him about the comments.  “What did you mean?”  I asked.

One he was joking around and the other one had nothing to do with what I thought.

OK, one down.  Next was the comment from the weekend guy.  He had said “he was willing to overlook my being overweight”.  I was trying not to take it personally, which wasn’t working, and I never wanted to talk to him again.

I shared his comment at weight watchers and they asked if he was still alive.  Yes,  I said, because it was on the phone.  “I couldn’t kill him,”  I said, laughing.

It opened up a whole conversation about not getting triggered by comments and how else we could handle them.  I’m not alone in this.  I love my community there.  Our leader, Zach, is phenomenal.  He gets our struggle and never judges.  We can be free to be ourselves.  It’s the 8:00 Tuesday meeting in Norwalk.  I welcome anyone who struggles with their weight or their mind to join our community.  You might love us.

I also decided I’m tired of running from unpleasant things.  The guy and his comment were still haunting me.  So I texted him how hurt I was.  We went back and forth and got into dialogue and the charge on the whole thing went away.

Then I got on the Wisdom call.  It’s a daily call with a community of people who have participated in Landmark Worldwide’s Wisdom course.  It is a wonderful group of people exploring life.  It was hard for me to speak up today, but  I needed to get out of my head.  I told them that I was afraid of going to Passover this year because it’s the first one without my dad.

“I’m afraid of being sad,” I said.  ” I feel like I have to be alone in a room to be able to actually cry freely.  I’m afraid the sadness will hit me when I am with people, and I won’t be able to handle it,” I said.

My comments actually opened up a whole conversation about humanity, bereavement, communication, and other things.  It became rich with exploration and they thanked me for being authentic.

And I started feeling good again.  I can be sad when I’m sad.  I can ask people what they mean when I take something the wrong way.

And, my weight is my weight.  I’m a few pounds heavier then I was.  That is ok.  What I need to learn is to speak up sooner and not always blame myself when things don’t work. I don’t need to punish myself by eating and drinking.  It doesn’t really get me where I want to go.

This is a journey to discover my freedom.  I’ve never been on a trip like this before and while it’s uncomfortable sometimes, the results are worth it.  Before, I kept my mouth shut and put up with the life that being quiet gave me.

And I suffered and complained and did nothing about it.  And it sucked.

So this is the way life looks when it’s working.  I am surrounded by people that I can have these kinds of conversations with.  We are exploring life and having great lives.  And I am really grateful for it.  And I am blessed.  And I feel a whole lot better then when I woke up this morning.

Thanks for listening.

Tah

 

“Lovable”

9 Apr

I was introduced to Suzanne Muller, an author, because a friend of mine thought she could help me get my book published.

She told me her book was called “Lovable.”

“You are kidding,”  I said.  “My whole issue is that I think I’m unlovable.   I guess I was meant to talk to you. ”

We chatted.  She couldn’t help me with my book, but she offered to introduce me to the person who helped her get her book published.

But, we also discussed what she does.  She has a whole business and web site dedicated to helping people find the relationship of their dreams.  Sound familiar?  Not only have I also been a relationship coach, but I am also in search of my dream relationship.

Before we got off the phone, I ordered Suzanne’s book.  And yesterday I did the first exercise.  It’s similar to one I would do with my clients, yet a little different.  It caused me to look at what I really wanted in terms of dating, men, relationships, etc. Even though I’ve done it before, I took Suzanne’s coaching and did it again.

And, I had a date on Friday night.  He seemed very nice and when he described the kind of relationship he wanted, it was exactly what I wanted.  Part of me got excited.  But, then he wanted me to come over after dinner and it was a little too much.  And, he said he really liked me and wanted to see me again.

That night I couldn’t sleep.  I was nervous and my instincts were trying to tell me something.   I was afraid of jumping into this thing and then having to extract myself.  It was going a little fast.  That used to happen with guys before I got married.  And, I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.

Even so, I saw him for a second date last night.  It was fun, we drank wine, we saw a movie, and it was very enjoyable.    But then he wanted to move too fast.  Part of me wanted to explore things to try to get over Psycho, but the other part knew I needed to get to know him better.   It got uncomfortable and I stopped talking. He asked if he should go.  I said yes.  And, I was relieved.  Happy that he was gone.

And then I started thinking about Psycho.  [I have decided to stop calling him Psycho.  It feels a little mean.  I think Schizo is more appropriate.  Because there are definitely at least two of him.  The charming, passionate man who made me feel so special, loved, connected and adored, AND, the completely selfish mean ass-hole who lied, acted like I was ruining his life and would pick apart everything I did or said.]

So why was I thinking about Schizo?  He’s not looking or available, and the other side of him is a horror show.  So, WTF?

Well, today I figured it out.  I had collapsed the feeling I had with Schizo with Schizo himself.  I want what I had with his charming self.  I loved it.  It was magical.  And I have been holding onto the fantasy because I’m afraid I would never find it again.

And, what I am looking for is the magic, with someone who is trustworthy, capable,  devoted, willing to communicate instead of run away, and available and looking for a relationship.

The guy from this weekend had some of that, but I wasn’t feeling the attraction.  And, I was feeling like there was something wrong with me for not.

But, Suzanne says, when you are out dating and meeting men, ask yourself, “does this experience look and feel like my new destiny?” If not, this may not be the partner for you.

So there it was.  He just wasn’t a fit.  Even though he was available, looking and wanting the kind of relationship I wanted.  And Schizo isn’t a fit either despite my delusional thoughts that he is.  I just want the feeling. And, I’m not going to settle for less.  I don’t have to.

And, today I’m going to do the next exercise in the book.   And if you would like to look up Suzanne’s web site and order her book, it’s called “www.loveablizeyou.com.”  Suzanne will guide you through the exercises to your own loving and fulfilling relationship.  I can’t wait.

I’m having an internal tantrum

2 Apr

I was trying to change the subtitle of my blog from “Is this Menopause or do I hate my life?”  to something a little more uplifting.

And I can’t figure out how.  But in the process, I looked at my old blogs from 2012.  I was still married, having fantasies about a certain guy from the gym, and always mad at my husband.   Do I really need people to read all that?  It’s more like a journal.  Should it be public?  Probably not.

So what do I do?  Should I even have a blog?   What’s  the purpose?  If it’s supposed to be helpful to others, then I have no clue what I am doing.  I feel like I’m 5 years old, throwing my hands in the air and yelling, “I CAN’T DO THIS!!!” And throwing myself on the ground, flailing like my daughter did when she was two years old.  We called them butt flops.

I don’t know how so I am going to quit.  Life sucks and then you die.  Whah. Whah. Whah.   I want to just curl up and suck my thumb………………

OK.  Back to adulthood.  The title is negative, so I was just trying to figure out how to make the sub-title  more positive.  And I got frustrated.  I guess I could ask for help.  I could password protect the ones I don’t want people to see, but in this mood that would be all of them, so what’s the point.

I am siting out on my deck, in my own private rental cottage, without a husband, without my fantasy man, and life is actually good.  I am frustated, but life is still good.  The sun is shining and I am outside in my shorts and tank top.  (I have sunscreen on, but will go get my hat since I already have so many wrinkles).

I was out earlier but it was too cold.  It has definitely warmed up.  The problem with sitting outside is that you can’t see the screen.  I can’t do most work outside for that reason.  So, coming outside is a luxury.  But it’s Sunday so why am I even thinking I need to be working?  (More, self torture). Why can’t I just relax for a change?

I guess what else is bothering me is what I had been reading from five years ago.  When I looked back at my fantasies, I was on the other side of the relationship with my last person.  The one who lied about being married.  I’ll call him Psycho for now.  And, I was so excited when he would pay attention and say nice things.  It made me so happy.  And I held onto it for dear life back then.

And, it was ok at that time because I was still married so it really was just a fantasy.  When I got divorced, we actually did start having a relationship.  It was magical for a while even though he did get mad sometimes.  He would always apologize after and make me promise not to leave him.  And I stuck by him, loving him as I did.  And it was heaven.  The happiest time of my life.

But then his wife called me.  Yes, he had a wife.  He had told me he was divorced, but he wasn’t.  And it deteriorated after that.  He couldn’t keep both of us happy and she held his financial future in her hands and I didn’t.

And, I make myself wrong for loving him so much even though he was a liar.  And, if I look back, I put up with his anger, accusations, witholding of himself, and not having much time.  I hung in there thinking he needed me.  And I try not to feel completely stupid that I believed his lies.

But, the truth be told, I really did care about this nut case.  And I still do in some ways.  I think the connection was so deep and so strong that I thought I was being “loyal” or “supportive” or “patient” through his angry and insulting interludes.  (I hate to say it was sort of normal for me.  My dad, God rest his soul, was a wonderful man, but he didn’t hold back his opinions.  So, it didn’t seem unusual unfortunately.)

What bothers me is that I still think about this person coming back to me after his “supposed” divorce.  And that we would be so happy together.  In my mind it could be so good.

I guess when I meet someone new that I am crazy about, I will move on.  Until then, in my down moments, I will allow myself to fantasize.  It doesn’t hurt anyone and it doesn’t put on weight!!!!!!

And, my date from last night was……I created a new scale for evaluating dates:

  • horrible
  • tolerable
  • enjoyable
  • can’t wait to see him again

Last night’s was very  nice.  I would put him in between enjoyable and tolerable.  He has already called and texted.  He was very nice and I was his first date after his divorce so I don’t want to be mean.  But, it’s my life.

And what I really want is the connection I had with my last guy.  It was so exciting.  I told my sister I didn’t think yesterday’s guy was my type and she said:

“Maybe you should change your type!”

So here’s a chance for me to trust myself and not let her comment seem like the truth.

“My test is if I’d rather be home alone with a book, he’s not my type,” I said.

“Oh,”  She said.  So there.  Nothing more said.  YAY ME!!

So if I’m hanging onto to Psycho it’s because I loved what we had, as crazy as it was.  I am going to hold out until I have that again.   I don’t need to take the first semi-normal guy who pays attention to me.  I like my life alone right now.  I love the freedom.

I miss the affection, passion, and companionship.  I miss thinking someone has my back and will help me with my car and other manly things.  But I will survive without them.  And, I can hold out for what I want.

And if this blog is not the way a blog is supposed to be, then I guess it doesn’t matter.  There is no grade.  I am not trying to get into an Ivy League school with it.  Been there, done that.   That degree didn’t pay my bills when my ex spent more then we made.

So, I will figure out how to change the subtitle of the blog when I do.  And, I will continue to express myself.  This is about freedom, not trying to get it right or worry about what people say.  It is for me.  I don’t know why this works to calm me down, but it does.  So thanks for listening.   I feel much better now.

Infuriated

5 Mar

I am using this blog to vent.

I was having a wonderful day.  I was cooking, cleaning up, and happy about my success at the gym smiling at 5 people.

I tried grilling some chicken, chicken sausages and eggplant, but after two hours, I hadn’t made much progress.  Since my oven doesn’t work, I was determined to get this stuff cooked.  Seeing my frustration, my neighbor stopped by and offered to check the fire.

“It’s just too cold,”  he said.  “The wind blew out the flame.”
I took the food inside and made it on the stove top.  I sauteed the chicken and made a stew with the sausage and eggplant, adding some canned tomatoes and some of the chicken as well.

My son stopped by with a friend from college.  Like most 21 year olds, they were hungry.  They had several helpings of the chicken and the stew.  Since most of the time no one likes my food, I was very happy that they enjoyed it.  The friend was nice and wants to be in the drug enforcement agency after college.  He had 5 friends that died of heroin overdoses.  It was nice to see someone who wants to make a difference in the world.  He said if he can save one mother from having to cry over her dead child, he will have achieved his goal.  I hope he does more then that.  I was inspired by his passion.

So why do I need to vent?  Well, after they left and I was about to start a project, the door opened.  I thought my son, Jesse,  had forgotten something, but no, it was my ex, looking for Jesse.

Even though Jesse had left, Mark, my ex, came in anyway.  He often stops by when he’s hungry.  I offered him food and he accepted an apple and peanut butter.  He left the dish and knife in the sink.

“Who’s supposed to clean this?”  I asked him.

“I thought you would want to so you could use it again.”  I have no dishwasher and this was a plastic plate and knife.

“Why wouldn’t you think to clean it?”

Because he wouldn’t.  And I started screaming about how he just comes, eats, doesn’t bring anything, and leaves a mess.  He does that at my mother’s as well.

Mark just looked at me, not saying a word.  That got me even madder.  I was trying to understand how a grown man can act this way.  Finally he spoke.

“You want to do everything yourself.  You don’t need help.  You like to be independent.” he said.

“Why would you think that?” I screamed.  “I love when someone offers to help.  I hate doing everything myself.  I hate lugging all my stuff everywhere.  It’s very convenient for you to think that.  Then you don’t have to offer to do anything for me.  BUT IT’S NOT TRUE!!!”

So he actually offered to help. I had him take the garbage out to the curb on his way out.  I walked him out, loading up my car for the next day with work stuff.  When I came back I was fuming.

Why do you even let him in you might ask.  Have boundaries.  Tell me not to come over. You are divorced, you don’t owe him anything.

Well, I tried that.  And, I felt like a bitch.  I guess I feel sorry for him.  He stops over my mother’s as well and she feeds him.   One night I asked him to please at least bring his dish to the sink.  He acted shocked that I would mention it.  Acted like of course he would take his plate up.  Infuriated, I end up screaming at him and looking like a bitch as usual in front of my mother.  I was so mad I went upstairs and told him never to come over again.

The next night he came back as if nothing had happened.  Like in our marriage, nothing I said was ever heard or paid attention to.

Being ignored, not respected, mocked, and treated like I am the crazy one infuriates me. I can’t explain it.   I don’t think I’m a bad person.  But he makes me feel like one.  Is it too much to ask a grown man to clean up after himself, especially if he is constantly getting  free meals and didn’t offer to bring anything or help in any way.  Am I wrong?  Would you be infuriated?

This is what happened during my marriage.  The guy acted so innocent when I was upset that I would think that I was going crazy and the problem was me.  I know it takes two to tango, but often, after being around this man, I feel crazy.

I guess the answer is stay away.  Tomorrow we have a seminar together with our son.  He asked if I wanted to drive with him.  The lazy answer is yes so I can sleep, but I think it’s time to say no.  Be independent.  If I am going to really move on, it’s time to move on.

We are still connected through the kids as a family, but we are no longer a couple.  I think in order to save my sanity, it’s time to say no.

I get sucked in by ass holes who get you to feel sorry for them.  They can be charming, but are completely narcissistic and self oriented.  The last guy had this whole sob story about how terrible his childhood was.  “I just want someone to take care of me.”  So I tried.  And in the end, he would practically spit at me when I offered to help.  It makes me sick now to think about how nice I was and how badly I was treated.  Ugh, don’t go there.

So what can make me more aware next time?

If I’m not getting treated the way I want to, move on.

If they are not available, move on.

If they don’t keep their word and try to blame me for being upset, move on.

If they criticize my words or what I am doing or wearing, move on.

If their words don’t match their actions, move on.

If I feel worse after being around them or talking to them, move on.

if I’m afraid to get them mad and have to change myself to keep them happy, move on.

Ok, well this is a start.  I am feeling a little calmer.  If I keep repeating the same thing that infuriates me (being around Mark), or having to change myself to keep someone happy, then who’s the idiot?  Me.

And, I will not call myself stupid for making these mistakes.  Each man I was with served a purpose.  But, to think I need any of them to love me again is crazy.  That’s amnesia and thinking I am still unlovable.  And I gave that up.

Being in scarcity makes me think I will never find someone else that I am that attracted to.  I will no longer go there in my brain.

I have developed my plan.  I am getting myself out there.  I have signed up for seminars, workshops, programs and vacations.  I will figure out where I will live after June 1.  I will hit my work goals for the end of March.  I will be at my goal weight again.  I will serve others and make a difference.  I will enjoy my life exactly as it is right now.  I will be grateful for what is good.

I can learn from my mistakes instead of going down the path of I am just stupid and unlovable and crazy.  I am tired of that game.  No cheese down that tunnel.

So thanks for listening.  This helps.  Until next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and I fed them and it was very nice.  I enjoyed the conversation and that they ate what I made.  And liked it and asked for more.

5 Smiles Closer to a New Life

5 Mar

Today I was at the gym again.  It’s a new gym in a new town so I don’t really know anyone.  I had been at my old gym for years and used to walk around talking to everyone like I was in high school.  I flirted and had fun and had a great time.

Until………my sort of ex boyfriend who shall be nameless changed all that.  And even though I am responsible for letting him change me, I still became a different person tehn I was before.

He told me that he hated people like me.  Friendly, flirty, talkative.  That if I was friendly to a guy they thought I wanted to have sex with them.  And, if I wanted to work out with him, I couldn’t talk to anyone.

At first I didn’t believe him.  How could that be?  I was just having fun being friendly .  why would they think that?  I couldn’t believe it.  But, I liked working out with him so I decided I would do what he wanted me to.

And, just like with my ex husband before him, I let him turn me into someone other then my real self.  I became a good girl, trying to please him, not talking to other guys, keeping my head down.  Serious, not smiling, and definately not friendly.

And it didn’t matter that I changed, because he always got mad about something else anyway.  There was no pleasing him no matter what I did.

So then why would I change myself for these guys?  It’s a great question.  One that I’ve been wondering about.  I think I learned to be a good girl when I was small.  My father was a great guy, but a couple of times he got really mad.  And it was scary.  So, I decided I better be good.  I learned to do whatever I had to do to keep him from getting mad.  It worked every time but once.  I forgot to sweep the porch one day.  He told me I was a lazy, selfish, good for nothing.  And, until very recently, I believed that his words were true.

So the pattern was there.  Be good.  Do what they say.  Try not to get yelled at.  And do whatever I had to do to get them to love me anyway.  The problem was, thought, that deep down, I thought I was unlovable.  I didn’t think anyone could love the real me, so, it makes sense that I would try to be someone else, right?  In a crazy sort of way.  Logic doesn’t apply.

So, back to the gym today.  I was there, remembering my post from yesterday.  I decided to do something.  “Say hi or smile at 5 people,” I decided.

So I smiled at a few people and they didn’t smile back.

Don’t give up.  They probably had an ex boyfriend like me.  And then the next woman smiled.  I counted her.  Another young guy asked if I was using the bench.  “No, ” I said.  And he smiled.  2.

A woman was stretching and shaking her head.  I asked what was wrong.  “My friends are always late,” she said.  And we started a discussion.

It didn’t have to be with guys I decided.  Just to get my friendliness back.  2 to go.  I got on the elliptical even though I was finished.  No one looked at me.

Desperate to get my last 2, on my way out, I said hi to the guy at the desk. He said hi back.   I also spoke to the membership girl about a college break discount for my kids.

And then, on my way out, I asked the guy behind me if it was still cold out.  “Yes,” he said.  “but it’s almost spring.”  So that was 6.

And, even though I almost didn’t do it, I forced myself.  These weren’t noble prize  winning conversations, but I still felt like a new person.  I did something I didn’t want to do.  It’s not like I have new friends or a date from it, but if I can say hi or smile at 5 people I don’t know every day, my life just may look different.  Who knows what can happen?

But the main point is that I feel great.  On a high.  I guess that comes from going out of my comfort zone.  Doing something different.  I’m not really sure.  But you can bet I will try it again tomorrow.  It might even become a habit.  And then, who knows what could happen?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Talking to my Dad, God rest his soul

4 Mar

Earlier today I was feeling alone.  And scared and worried about the future.  But when I stopped for a minute and became grateful for what I have, my thoughts altered.

Maybe great things are in store for me.  Maybe my journey is just beginning.  I have a blank slate  – I am divorced, my kids are off to college, and I can create anything I want to.

And maybe that means my life will be way more then I thought it could be.  And I remember my dad who died a month and a half ago.

My dad told the Rabbi two days before he passed away, that he didn’t know life could be this good.  And I am happy that his life surpassed his expectations.  He was a great man and I miss him terribly at certain moments.  I miss knowing he was there and seeing him shuffle from room to room because the nephropathy from his cancer treatments had destroyed the feeling in his feet and hands.

And now I am crying, but I’m ok with that.  I have learned to feel the sadness instead of resisting it.  And it will last less then a minute if I allow it.  Some great mentors have taught me that recently.  Trying not to be sad hurts more.

I sob.  It’s easier to do when I’m alone.  But I know if my Dad is watching, he would be saying, “what are you crying about?  I’m right here with you.  Get on with your day already.”

And I smile as the tears come down.  “I miss you, Dad.  It’s not the same without you.”

“I know,” he answers.  “But you always have me in your heart.  I am with you.  You are not alone.  And you have our amazing family, great friends, and a community that loves you and believes in you.  You will find your way.  It’s just scary and unknown.  But it will all work out.  This is just the way life looks sometimes.  I love you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”  I answer silently.  “I needed that today.  I guess loneliness is just body sensations and thoughts that occur sometimes.  They don’t mean anything.  I have a  great life and I love my place here.  I remember when you came to look at it and you loved it.  I wish you could be here with me, but I guess you are, in my heart and spirit.  Thank you for loving me and giving me my life.  You were a great father.  Thanks for driving me to school in the mornings with my harp.  When I got out of the car you would always say, “Be Terrific.”  I wish you could say it to me right now, but I will hear it in my mind.”

And I’m not going to apologize for crying.  I am trying to learn to experience my emotions instead of numbing them like I did last night.  Red wine, chips and hummus.   And, I might do it again tonight.  Or maybe I won’t.  Either way is fine.

And the grief comes and goes.  Sometimes I am fine.  Sometimes I am a crying mess.  And I know that Dad just wants me to have a great life.  And I do.  (But sometimes I just forget!)

 

 

What is “being alone?”

4 Mar

I was at the gym this morning, surrounded by people. Pushing myself, working hard doing my functional workout, and I had the thought, “I am alone.”

How could that be when I am in a crowded room? All I would have to do is start a conversation. Say hello to someone. Make some friends.  But today I just didn’t want to.  Not in the mood.  I’m alone and no one cares.  And I felt sorry for myself for just a a few minutes while I finished my chest and ab exercises.

But let me make it clear, I am not actually alone in the world at all. I have an amazing family – mom, kids, siblings, cousins – and several supportive, loving communities that I am a part of.  I have recently discovered that I am truly loved and that people really do believe in me as my higher Self, not the disempowering self I often see myself as.

So maybe “being alone” was just a thought. And it was followed by other thoughts – my life shouldn’t look this way, something’s wrong here and what’s wrong with me.

Because this is what I wanted. I got divorced so I could have the life I wanted, not support my ex-husband’s idea of a life. I chose not being married and that means, for right now,  being ok with being alone.

How did I end up divorced?  I try to remember sometimes when I wonder if I made a mistake.  But then it all comes back………..My ex always promised that things would change.  That instead of him ignoring me and doing whatever he wanted whether I liked it or not, that he would pay attention to me, respect me and be a partner instead of a lone ranger.  And so I hoped that each time he said it, things really would be different.  And I waited for 20 years.  Until my kids pointed out that this was the same argument they’d been hearing their whole lives.  And stop kidding myself that things would ever be different.

And a light bulb went off.  I had been waiting for him to change so I could be happy.

And that seemed crazy.  Why should  he have to change?  He should stay exactly the way he was.

But I had a choice.  I had a say in my happiness.  And I didn’t have to stay married to him.  Once I got over my fear, opinions and judgments about divorce, I started the process.  And as tough and scary as it was, we finally got divorced.

And since then, I have created my life the way I want it to be. So here I am with a blank slate. On my own. Looking at the water in my adorable rented cottage on the beach. I love it here. It is peaceful, serene, nourishing to my soul.  I sit and breathe at the wonderful world  have created.

And then panic replaces serenity.  This beautiful rental ends on June 1.  I will have no place to live.  I had told myself back in September when I moved in, that I wouldn’t worry about where I would go next until March. Well today is March 4th. It’s time to worry.

Or instead of fear, I can tell myself to trust the universe, even though it’s not natural for me. Or I can just breathe. (I’ve been doing that my whole life.) And, just like with my divorce, I can take the time to visualize what I want, figure out what I need to do, and create a plan. Instead of being a powerless, paralyzed victim, I can  get into action.

And I can really believe that I will find the next place I am to live. And, when it is time for me to have the relationship of my dreams, that God and my guardian angel will present the right man. And, until then, I can enjoy my life, the solitude, the freedom, and the love that I know is all around me.

So what if it doesn’t look like I thought it would? That it’s different. It doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just not what I expected.  And sometimes I have the thought that I am alone.  It’s just a thought, after all.

And, this is the way life looks when it’s working…………….