Breakthrough Moment

 This was posted on Facebook, and because of aforementioned not-a-safe-place, I came here to repost this, so I could remember it. From Yesenia Moya Garay over on FB:

“Breakthrough moment. Fear of intimacy isn’t on purpose. It doesn’t mean you don’t want to be close. You can be afraid of various types of intimacy.

‘What does it mean to have a fear of intimacy? When someone has a fear of intimacy, they struggle with forming and maintaining significant relationships because it’s difficult for them to be vulnerable with themselves and with others. They might seem emotionally open and have a lot of friends and family around — but always within limits.’

• Emotional Intimacy: Telling each other your deepest fears, dreams, disappointments, and most complicated emotions, as well as feeling seen and understood when you do.
• Intellectual initimacy: Communicating beliefs and viewpoints without worrying about potential conflicts. Each person in the relationship has the freedom to think for themselves and believes that their opinions are valued – instead of feeling pressured to agree.
• Experiential intimacy: Participating in shared experiences that lead to inside jokes and private moments that escalate a connection. The act of teamwork and moving in unison toward a common goal while creating an experience also establishes a feeling of closeness.
• Spiritual intimacy: Having poignant moments with someone. It can look like enjoying the beauty of nature, sharing awe-inspiting moments, as well as discussing ethics, sense of purpose, or personal definitions of spirituality.

I thought I had these things, was building these things, with my family, and it’s not true, clearly. I can’t tell you the level of sad this makes me, but I suppose that means try harder, look for different connections, turn to “family of choice”.

It hurts. I hope it feels better, more authentic, whatever, on the other side. I am a firm believer in the concept that in order for something to be resolved, it has to have the light shined on it. I can’t control the outcome, all I can do is love and be myself and hope that things work themselves towards a place where mutual understanding, growth and forgiveness can happen.

Peace.

And then, I rally…

 All this crap has really had me down. I’ve been deep, deep into my own head. Am I a shitty mother because my grown kid feels traumatized? Maybe. What I know to be true is that I am not that person anymore. My kids have been adults for more than a decade now. There is an old saying….what people think of you is none of your business.

It took me awhile to notice the pattern. When someone is down on me, it only makes sense to be down on myself, because what other people say about me must be true. I must suck as bad as some see me, I must be an awful person because someone(s) thinks so.

Then I remember.

I am not my mistakes.

I am not the same person I was in the past.

I did the best I could with what I had. (sometimes I feel like this is a cop out, but do people hurt people intentionally? I generally think not)

I did my best to stay sane and present for my kids.

I am a loving human.

I am a generous and giving human.

I am worthy of love and respect because I am human.

I am a human who makes mistakes. I will always be a human who has made A LOT of mistakes!

Those mistakes do not define me.

They are not who I am.

I’m seeing a theme here.

I think the crux of the matter is that I have rediscovered this place, and have sought it again, as solace, because I don’t feel safe on Facebook. Of course, safety on Facebook is probably the worst kind of delusion anyway, but because my daughter posts a lot there, and lives her life out and proud there, it’s not a safe space for me. It’s not a safe space for me because she has recently said some very ugly things to me that make me see the way she sees me, and that makes me sad. Right now, it’s looking like she can’t see me as anything except the mistakes she thinks I’ve made, from a place of judgment and hurt. The thing is, she hasn’t lived my life. Her view of who I am and as a result, who she is, is based on the extremely limited experiences and traumas of her own experience, filtered through her life, not mine.

I hope that she gets to a point where she can see me as something besides what she perceives as my mistakes, but that’s not my journey, it’s hers to make.

My grand daughter is in the hospital. She has asthma, and while we had had a three year break from hospitalization, that ended recently, so she is back there.

My daughter is so much like me, it does actually hurt to see it. Her trauma response, because she feels she’s been hurt by me, is to shut me out of her life and insist she can do all the things by herself. Her husband asked me last night to take her food because they had brought food for the child, and not for her. I went and spent a little time. She seemed grateful to have company. And doesn’t seem to know how to move beyond the hurt. That’s for her and her therapist to work out. I will just be available, and continue to love her.

I don’t have the answers….I just know, coming here, and being able to speak my truth, and remember who I am, who I want to be, and who others see me as, matters. The rest will work itself out, one way or another.

Peace.

Astrology, fail?

 So, this was my horoscope for yesterday:

Intuitive guidance will come from deep within today, dear Gemini, as Venus and the North Node align in your solar twelfth house. Lean into these vibes by embracing privacy, giving yourself plenty of space for introspection while meditating on what the future may hold. A serious yet transformative energy will find you this afternoon when the Pisces sun aligns with Pluto, asking you to approach your ambitions from a more disciplined standpoint. You’ll sense a shift later in the day when Aries season kicks off, marking the astrological new year while putting you in the mood to give back to your community.

That was a big, fat, fail, hahahaha. That makes me ask, am I just being stubborn in not wanting to see what’s in front of my face? Or am I reaching too far, wide, close?

At any rate, here I am, no farther along, and there was no opening of the clouds or clarity that arrived yesterday. I am happy the Equinox brought the sun back into the world, and it’s clear to see already, the days getting longer and while we are still getting pretty hammered by storms and moisture, which is much needed, it’s returning to a more “normal” state for this area, meaning the weather sucks for a little while, might even snow, but is generally gone by noon. Last week, for the first time in awhile, I got to see the dirt/DG portion of my yard again! I don’t think it’s ever been COVERED in snow for as long as it was this year. I wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

Then again, as I think, maybe I DID get that clarity, but it came before last weekend =) One of the volunteer activities I really enjoy, is volunteering for a 3,800 acre ranch owned by Burning Man called Fly Ranch. I was there this weekend. It was cold, sometimes, and it was so strikingly beautiful. Being out in nature nurtures my soul, I know this, and was reminded in many ways this weekend.

This is the view of the one of the mountain ranges that surround the land where I was. I had never seen this sort of shimmer on the mountains before, or this level of snow, all surrounding us. The snow has melted, and then re-frozen, giving an iridescent shimmer in the afternoons that was very captivating for me.

We worked this weekend, clearing dead brush, literally blazing a trail that will go down to the Southern end of the property, removing damaged tree parts and cutting up the wood, then moving to a storage space to dry for future burning.

This picture is of the Calico Mountains, in the distance

The colors are SO PRETTY.

We also re-located a couple of praying mantis egg sacks and a very perturbed beetle, who’s Winter slumber we disturbed while relocating some fill dirt to try to mitigate mud for future gatherings

This land gets in your soul. Maybe that’s the lesson that’s been looming for me. Spend more time on the land, away from the boxes and whirring things that sap our energy and keep us distracted from things that truly matter.

Friendship, food, connections, the labor of love that is tending land that so many people, collectively, are caretaking for. Maybe THOSE are the things that matter the most.

Sometimes I fantasize about “running away from home”….and going somewhere, anywhere except where I am. Then I think of these vistas, the land, my community, places I can go where I truly feel SEEN, and like people know the mean that is the highest and best version of myself, and I wonder what I am running from or what I would be running to? Maybe that’s the lesson….that I need to do more of THOSE things, and spend less time and energy doing, supporting, and living in ways that don’t feel nearly as authentic.

There is a saying around here, “home means Nevada”. All throughout the weekend, I kept seeing things that looked like tiny state of Nevada shapes, which is sort of odd. This rock was observed right behind the back tire of my car

This rock is probably, maybe an inch and a half wide, I do a mean crop =)

From the macro, to the micro. Another lesson? Maybe….

Remember to come here, and write. It helps.

Peace.

Relationship Vomit

 I do know how I got here, but then again, I wonder how I got here.

When we met, we agreed about something called the “no bullshit clause”. No lying, no cheating, no dishonesty. I’m not the one who broke that agreement. I read something today that gave me pause:

Don’t make a mistake being so understanding that you overlook the fact you’re being disrespected.

Too much empathy is dangerous.

There’s a point where it’ll screw you because you’re trying so hard to see things from other people’s point of view, that it’s taking away from your own dignity.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day. This friend is admittedly 100% very opinionated, we know this about her. She is an artist. We are each others ride and die, and also call each other on our bullshit.

As part of the recent conflict with my adult daughter, with whom I have co-housed with her and her family for more than five years, is coming to the realization that it isn’t healthy for us to live in the same space anymore. There’s a lot to pack into that, on its own, but I’m not thinking about that, now. I’ve been saying for a long time, that maybe it’s time for me to sell my house. I currently own the house I grew up in. When my mom could not manage much of anything else, she managed to keep our house, and to sell it to me when her health started to fail. To different degrees, both my parents lived and died in that house. AND, at the end of the day, it’s just a house. Maybe the energy that’s in that house needs to be purged.

We also own off-grid property in the Northern part of our county, an hour outside our medium-sized city. I love the off-grid place. My husband has been unwilling to work for the last decade. He had a stroke a number of years ago, and he does have some cognitive challenges, but it’s been about 7 years, I think. He functions just fine to play computer games all day, and he’s been a kick-ass grandpa, taking care of the grand kids. But beg, and plead as I might, he won’t get a job. To a large degree, we are caught between bureaucracies. The VA won’t release him to work because he still have double vision and vertigo, and SSDI (social security disability) says he isn’t disabled ENOUGH to qualify for any benefits. So, it’s all on me. I have begged, I have pleaded to him to PLEASE get even a part-time job, it’s not time for him to be retired yet. He refuses. He will put in one application and then get depressed because they never called him. To find a way to contribute money, income, to the household. In times when I have supported or done things for my adult children or other members of my family, he has been very vocal about calling other people “oxygen thieves”. I guess he decided it was his turn and that was that.

So, I mention to my friend that I am thinking of selling my house and moving to the off-grid property. It would be a hell of a commute, I have five years left at my job, before retiring with 30 years. She says she this is a HUGE mistake. Her and I had previously joked about this, she said she would rent the top part of my house, pay half the mortgage, also not have sex with me (my husband and I also have a sexless marriage), and we could live happily ever after. She told me she thinks it would just be a huge mistake for me to sell the house in town and move to the outskirts. I am not sure how I feel about that. She says my husband will never do anything, never work again. I wonder if I’m actually really stupid for believing he might wake up one day. I’ve thought to myself a lot that what will he do if he kills me, working myself to death to support us while he stays home all day? Well, then he’ll collect my retirement hahahaha. And then he won’t have to listen to me complain either, seems like a win/win for him. I’m not sure I want to spend the rest of my life like this, is the thing.

Last year, I worked my ass off. I don’t remember if I wrote about this before, I think I did. In August of 2021, I made a bad decision that I paid for for a loooong time. I took out a payday loan because my husband’s son was having a child of his own, his first. I wanted my husband to have the experience of getting to do this for his son. So we took a trip to the Northwest. I had told my husband, I NEED you to focus on getting a job after this. He said he would. It’s never happened, and I was suffocating under the payments and debt this caused. I realized that two people who I love the most in the world, who I have sacrificed for, would not do the same for me. To keep my mind sharp, and to have a retirement income, I opened a bookkeeping business. Starting it and getting clients was a little slower than I wanted it to be, limited largely by there only being 24 hours in a day, and already having a full-time job, it was hard to stay on social and really work that angle to get more clients. I had a few that seemed promising, but sort of faded out, or the situation wasn’t right. So, then I took a seasonal contract for Burning Man. From May to October, I went to work and worked 6:30am-3:30pm, then came home and worked 4pm-8pm at the second job, while also having my and maintaining my bookkeeping business. *whew*

I had committed to myself that my reward for working that hard would be taking us on a cruise last year. I did that. I hoped he would see that we could have fun together, and do things. That was all great….and I get to pay for it all. I think I’m done with that. He recently said his dad wants us to come down and visit him. Not without money. I’m paying off last years cruise. I suppose these are my choices, I just don’t understand how someone can sit back and let someone else do all the work and not help. I don’t get that. That’s why this year, I am going to New Orleans on my own. I did take a trip last year on my own too, to Texas to spend a friends birthday with her, but even then, I was like “can’t spend too much”. He NEVER thinks about that.

Just to add a little more baggage to all this, for at least a decade, we’ve had a sexless marriage, but he’s also been outed as a serial cheater. I can’t tell you how much this fucks with my brain. #1 because technically, you CANNOT cheat with me, I consider myself responsibly non-monogamous. But you CAN, because it’s not about the physicality of the cheating, it’s the lying and the dishonesty. Like, I know with the logical part of my brain, that it IS NOT me, but it FEELS horrible when you know someone is developing relationships and feelings with others, but doesn’t appear to care enough to develop and work on their relationship with YOU. He has a lot of hang-ups. Family of origin crap, past abuse, yadda yadda. None of that is my problem, and while I tried for years and years to get him to get help, it has to be him. And he isn’t willing. That just adds a whole other dimension to the mix. It’s part of the thrill of the hunt for this guy. I mean, the last time it happened, it was with someone I had WORKED with, and he’s so, like, fucking devious, that he started out by saying that she had a crush on me, that he just wanted me to be happy, and then I go and look and there’s like 1,200 texts between them, and I’m just like whoa. He had said he was going to go help her change a lightbulb. That’s such a fucked up double entendre, I don’t even have words. I told him “you have fun with that” and HE thought that was permission for him to fuck around.

At this point, I’m kind of at a loss. All of this shit swirls around my brain constantly. Part of me believes I deserve to be happy, I think I’m just really bad at it, or making it so. I’m not miserably UN-happy, but I do think I might be on the verge of being clinically depressed. I don’t want to do anything. I just work, and I go home and sit on my bed and watch mindless TV, or work on one of my many side hustles to keep our lives afloat, or work on volunteer stuff. I work out a couple of times a day, but I don’t feel VIBRANT. I don’t feel alive, really. I feel like I’m going through the motions.

I wonder constantly how I got to this place.

Ending this for now, I needed to get it out. The formatting is all weird on it, I might come back later to see if I can fix it, I don’t know. Fixed the formatting by adding some of my favorite pictures and memes. Welcome to my brain. hahahaha

Peace.

Always catching up….

 Why do I forget this place? I think I avoid coming here when I don’t want to face things, face myself.

The end of last year kind of sucked, and it was lonely.

On October 13, I said goodbye to my best friend. My fur baby, my Grizzle Fo’Shizzle. He was 14, and he went to the Rainbow Bridge at our house, surrounded by those who loved him. He was having a great morning, and eating all his favorite things. About two weeks prior, he had a really scary seizure, and he never really recovered from that, it slowed him down A LOT. I will miss that big lug the rest of my days. He was love, to me. Life hasn’t been the same. I am writing his story, but every time I start, or go back to that entry, the tears start and I know it isn’t time yet. I’ll get there.

That is my majestic boy, before he got overly gray.

Life is so strange.

(above photo is our Winter this year. We generally get snow, but it doesn’t generally stick around very long. This year, it certainly has, uggh. Kind of OVER IT, as much as we need the water.)

I’ve done my best as a parent, and as anyone who has adult children knows, your best is never good enough. They aren’t kidding when they say that when kids end up in therapy, everything is the parents’ fault. When your child is trying to improve herself, going to therapy and trying to become more healthy, it’s all going to come back on you. I am also fond of saying that just when you think there are no more ways that your children can break your heart, they will find new ways. It seems there are always new ways. My heart has been breaking for awhile, with my daughter. When she was going through a rough time as a teenager, we went to therapy and it broke my heart when she said, when the counselor asked her why she hadn’t come to me, when she started to self-harm, that she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to disappoint me.

She’s been sober for something like seven years now. I felt like I was there for her through that journey. My heart soared for her when she FINALLY started to ingest the things she was learning in therapy. When she finally SAW that while the guy she was pining for was a beautiful person, that as a felon and a fellow addict, their future together would have been one of struggle. In the end, though, at this moment, she sees me as her abuser and the one who neglected her. That’s the place she is in her healing process. I accept this, I know it’s a phase, and I hope she comes out the other side with us being able to have a relationship, but with some stuff that has been said, it will never be the same.

Another HUGE realization for me the last little while is that it’s very hard to have an adult relationship with your child. I thought we had transitioned to that, and I was relieved, because now the pressure was off me. The pressure is never really off. Where I had thought we were having adult conversations, she was perceiving that I was judging her, still trying to parent her, or control her. Treating her like a child. None of those things were happening, but you can’t tell someone that. It’s been a sad and soul-destroying time for me.

We have been co-housing for the last five years, and that will come to an end likely by Summer. That also makes me sad, but was, perhaps, inevitable, especially with all this other crap swirling around.

I have five years left before I retire, I just went over 24 years at my job. My life is not what I thought it would be. I worked harder last year than I have in a very long time, and I was rewarded for it, financially. And I have to consider if I want to continue my life the way it is…in a perpetual state of taking care of others. I won’t say that I always come last, because the last few years has taught me that that isn’t acceptable, but as long as the pressure or expectation is there that I will take care of things, I’m not generally as high on the list as I would be were it just me.

There’s more to say, but that’s enough for now.

I need to remember this place exists, especially when I’m feeling alone. Even if no one reads here, it’s okay, it’s for me. There is precious little of that in my life. Things I do expressly and only for me. It’s becoming more common.

Did I mention I am going to go to New Orleans for the first time in October? I am going to make this happen! That will be part of my solace this year!

Peace.