He’s gone. 

Lord knows he checked out mentally long ago but I told him to leave physically. I can’t handle his ghost on my couch that stalks the kids and I’s emotional sanctuary.  

 I have to re-examine my life alone.  I have to face the reality that he’s never  coming back. 

I don’t know where this road leads. There’s parts of me that think it leads right into the treacherous pits of hell. There’s another part of me that thinks maybe that’s where I’ve already been. I’m hoping the only way out is up now.

God knows, I’m crawling and clawing at my surroundings trying to regain my balance and find some foundation to build upon. I’m being careful to not hastily build on quicksand. I’m doing a lot of examination of my surroundings and those surrounding me. I’m taking stock of intentions vs. actions, reaching out more to those that are willing to take action with me. I have no use for lip service. Put up or shut up.There’s work to be done. Lend a hand or get the hell out of the way.

Mostly I’m just promising to love myself in a way that maybe I never have.  I’m loving my body and soul. Taking time to care for each. And so, I need to recommit to being here more often and writing more. That’s part of taking care of me. I always show up for my kids and friends. I know that about myself. I love that about myself, however, I need to be more selfish. I need to make time and space for my thoughts and feelings because no one else will, unless I recognize and make them a priority. I’ve given myself permission to have bad moments and days, but not all at once. If I slip and stumble, I will do the next right thing for myself. I will not allow myself to get stuck in these moments and days though. I will continually reach deep down inside myself, or even outside myself if need be, to find the momentum to keep going.

 
I don’t know where this road leads, but I will keep going.

Fucking Furious

This post is brought to you by voice to text. It will not be edited. Hell, it may not even be read again. All I can tell you is that I’m infuriated. I am sick to death of people who take no accountability for their lives and circumstances and play the victim. Especially when there are actual victims they have hurt and left in their wake. 

I have officially moved on in my grief cycle and am done with denial and sadness. 

I’m fucking furious. 

Note to Self

If someone curses us and we have no feelings of self the incident ends with the spoken words, and we do not suffer. If unpleasant feelings arise, we should let them stop there, realizing that the feelings are not us. . . . If we do not stand up in the line of fire, we do not get shot; if there is no one to receive it, the letter is sent back

– AJAHN CHAH

Forget everything…& Remember this 

Via elephant journal

Everything that has happened along the way—forget it.
Forget about the first love that broke your heart.
And forget about the last break too.
Forget the time a friend you thought was best pushed a knife in your back.
Forget the words and the spite that resound in your head.
Forget the trauma that injured your flesh or your bones.
Forget the rejection you felt when someone failed to recognise your value.
Forget the tears that cleansed your soul.
Forget the mistakes that everyone makes.
Forget what you gave, without return.
Forget the mistrust, the resentment and the jealousy.
Forget about lies, betrayal and deceit.
Forget about the ones that got away—they were not meant.
Forget the time someone tripped you and caused a fall.
Forget the times you gambled but forgot you could lose.
Forget about whispers and gossips and stories—it is all an illusion, the truth only lives in one self.
Forget about rules and regulations—make new.
Forget about thinking—let the mind sit still.
Forget about time—let your heartbeat decide.
Forget about fear, it will paralyse—it is useless.
Forget about perfection, it is unobtainable—imperfection is true beauty.
And forget about forgetting—allow the release to happen. Naturally.
Then try as you can, to remember this…
Everything is already a part of you, the lessons have been learned, the memories etched and the effects have sunk in.
There is no need to hold on—it all already exists, so allow it. Let it just be. Without grasping.
Without pressing repeat.
It all had a purpose, once, long ago. Even if it was yesterday, or a minute ago—it has now passed. Past.
So just breathe…and breathe again. Deeply.
Right here, right now.
You are alive. You survived. In this very moment, this one… here…
You can choose. Choose to live.
Run. Fly. Wildly.
Begin again.
And begin to feel alive.
Feel.
Everything and nothing and all in between—feel it all. Flushing through your veins—let it in, let it sit and then let it go.
Slowly, but very surely, replace all of the forgotten with all of the new.
Add to it, mix to it, blend whoever you were, who you are now with who you are about to become.
Alchemy—turn it to gold. Turn you. It is easy. Try. All of you. Every part.
Stir the storms with the rainbows, the pleasure with the pain. Create.
Forget the old. Sprinkle in new.
Stardust. Magic. Wanderlust. Mystery. Moonlit skies. Forests. Deserts. Sparkle. Dance. Have faith. Go. Find. Don’t look far. It is there. It always was, always has been. Right there, right here. Right now.
Be free.
And each time you are overwhelmed, or hurt, or angry or in pain—go back to the top, read once more, unlearn, forget and begin again.

Own your shit. 

Via: elephant journal
I don’t mean own anything physical. I mean, let’s all own that nasty, yucky, sticky, emotional and physiological stuff that’s been bogging us down, stifling our true brilliance, tarnishing our beautiful souls.
Let’s Own. It.
So….perhaps some of us are living with a troubled past. Or present. Let’s own it.
Food issues?
Completely codependent?
Addictions?
Trust issues?
Commitment phobic?
Let’s own it all.
I could write a novel length list of possible “issues,” hang-ups, phobias, attachments and questionable personality attributes. The cold hard truth is this: we all have shit in our lives that needs to be dealt with. Nobody’s life is perfect. Nobody, and I mean nobody, has gotten a free or easy ride on this attraction we call life.
The first step is getting over any judgment or preconceived notion that our struggle is somehow more important, more difficult or more traumatizing than anyone else’s, because we never know what that person we perceive as happy, grounded and full of grace has had to struggle through. We only see what people want us to see, through a lens of our own twisted perception that creates our personal reality.
We are special and unique because we are beautiful individuals…not because of what we’ve been through. That “stuff” doesn’t define us. We all have our own shit. Let’s get over the idea that ours makes us entitled to anything—a bad attitude, sympathy, permission to treat ourselves or others poorly…no. Just…no.
Okay. We’ve gotten over the twisted entitlements and yes, we’ve got some less than shiny-happy pieces of our lives. Now, let’s take full and total responsibility for it. Own it.
I don’t mean that anything that happened to us is our fault. That’s silly. Sometimes we are made victims and that is a terrible thing. Sometimes we find ourselves in traumatic or just really crappy feeling situations and that sucks. I don’t mean that we have to take responsibility for the actions of others or for pure bad universal luck, but we do have to take responsibility for how we’ve dealt with or reacted to it.
If it will make you feel better, I’ll go first:
I am a co-dependent woman who loves too much. I have a weird relationship with food and use it as a coping mechanism when I’m uncomfortable in any way. I have made some poor choices in romantic partners (and a couple friends) that put me into some scary and traumatic situations. I sometimes seek out affection to validate my worthiness and often find myself fighting battles that are not my own in hopes that it will earn me love.
I own all the previously mentioned craziness. What does this mean for me? It means that I fully recognize that I’m a broken person but in that recognition is a big ol’ helping of some serious self-love and acceptance. I may be broken but I own the hell outta all those little pieces of me and as a result I’m embracing my areas of opportunity and have found the motivation I need to work through them.
Doing the work isn’t easy.
It’s easy to pretend that everything is bright and shiny and perfect, that we don’t need anything from anyone because life is grand just as it is…but as for me, I cannot live another day without embracing my “stuff,” without owning my shit, because doing so would be inauthentic and I just can’t breathe another breath living a lie.
Want some more cold hard facts? Until we own every little piece of ourselves, until we fully see ourselves and own who we are, what made us that way and want to fight to rise above and be our best selves, we will never be happy. We will never have a healthy relationship—with ourselves or with anyone else. Period. Harsh truths.
What can we do? We can hire a therapist. Do some introspection. Exercise our bodies, minds and spirits to exercise out our personal demons. Sometimes it takes some work just to uncover enough bravery and self-love to fully recognize or see your own “stuff,” and that’s okay.
Let’s own our shit, and then do the work to shovel it out of our personal experiences.
It will always be part of our story, but it doesn’t have to be the main plot.

Letters I meant to send

Dear Blank,

Last week I came across a picture that reminded me of you. It brought me to tears and ripped open a wound. It hurt thinking of the way things are between us now. But this morning as I was donning a sacrament we share, it occurred to me that we didn’t really. WE haven’t shared things for a really long time. I have. I have tried to share. I have tried to reach out. I have more than met you halfway. I’ve picked up the tab. I’ve tried. And for someone who constantly looks around and passes judgment on others for their lack of effort in maintaining relationships, you really should stop and take a look at yourself. I dont do things because I expect anything in return. That’s not what this is about. Im just saying that if you’re always measuring people up where the hell was your ruler when it came to me? Because if you were paying any attention to what I did, especially in contrast to your lack of doing, I not only met the bar, but surpassed you. Not only did I not get any credit, but you tossed me aside without pause. Who does that? Exactly who do you think you are? Relationships are two way streets, give and take. Who do I have to be to warrant reciprocity? Obviously, Im not enough and nothing I did or do will be either. So why should I care?

I have no idea.

If anyone is owed an apology it is I, but I don’t require one. Because I love you and I forgive you. I dont care to measure or keep score. That’s how love works.  

Love Always,

Stephanie