Funny how thinking back on a certain time, particularly one filled with deep emotions, stirs up the same feelings inside the body and mind.
This morning I was talking about how much I enjoy watching the sunshine sparkle on the moving water in our nearby bay. This reminded me of when I was a teenager of 17 and often visited Northwest Park near my best friend’s home.
I didn’t even need to close my eyes to see the shape of the man-made pond there, the brown of the grass dried from the hot Texas sun, the ducks and geese that flocked to the small island in the middle of the water. I spent hours upon hours sitting in that park staring at the water. It was the only park where I slept outside overnight because I had nowhere else to go.
I was considered a wayward youth. In many ways I was. I’ve come to realize I wasn’t so much running away, although I definitely was escaping, as I was moving through a tremendous shift.
Thinking about being that young girl, I began feeling again all those sensations of being completely unsure what was going to happen, having no family for comfort, no security, lost and afraid. Determined and certain that those sparkles on the water were calling out to me, reminding me that magic is possible.
Tears began to pour from my eyes. How I wish I could hug that confused young girl. I’m so proud of her for looking for the beauty and giving gratitude. It’s saved my life many times over.
© Call Me Snow White, 4/30/18
I can’t remember a time when I haven’t felt misunderstood by others. I have a strong suspicion it’s because I misunderstand myself. I’m terribly and unfairly hard on myself. I cannot forgive myself easily or at all regarding some things.
Intellectually, I know this is damaging behavior. It causes me to over-compensate with extreme friendliness or bitchiness. I come across way too intense. This has been made most apparent to me in the last couple years. I was puzzled why people seemed to recoil a bit from me. It seemed to me I was trying to my best ability and it was coming out all wrong.
In my depression, elation has been a raft. Except rather than save me from drowning, it’s an alarm to others. Most people don’t want to be around those emotionally suffering. Too much is, well… too much.
Self-awareness isn’t always easy. It’s a skill. It can be practiced and improved. Emotional chaos is a momentary panic. Those moments might last a long fucking time. I might smile too big or speak too loud or look at someone too intensely. My facial expressions will be misinterpreted, or more likely interpreted correctly and offend.
Once upon a time I chose to claim all this intensity as me just being a passionate person. I didn’t want to feel less intense in the bad ways because I chose to see it as a balance to feeling intense about the great stuff, too. I valued that in myself and if others didn’t like it, that was their problem. Except, it’s my problem. It’s not balance. It’s chaos.
I’m taking notice of this more often and adjusting. Mindfulness breathing helps SO MUCH! It’s not about cleansing breaths, although I do like to start and end with those. Being mindful of the breath is simply noticing the natural breath. How it feels. Where it moves into, through, and out of the body. As I take a mindful approach to myself and those around me, my perspective improves. Moment by moment.
This morning, just like every morning, I looked into my closet to choose my clothes. The selection is mostly t-shirts and ill-fitting cotton and poly tops. Having gained a lot of weight over the last couple of years, I’m currently at my heaviest. I stopped weighing myself months ago. I’m disgusted by the condition of my body Continue reading Self-Awareness →
When life gets hard, as it does with certain regularity, I tend to retreat. It’s dangerous being inside my mind when I’m feeling threatened, insecure, and unworthy. Self-loathing is an all-too-easy habit.
I’m fighting like hell against it today. In the past 3 years I’ve had big dreams crushed, again and again. It’s fucking exhausting to try to have hope that I’m not just spinning my wheels.
Where do I belong? What do I need to be doing? How do I let go of the pain and embrace the joy when disappointment has been such a frequent visitor?
I can choose to lay on my bed and wallow in the pain. Or I can breathe and simply be right here, right now. What matters is what I believe, not just what I perceive.
This morning I listened to a The Art of Charm podcast featuring Amy Molin, psychotherapist and author of 13 Things Mentally Strong People Dont’ Do. It’s the next book I’m going to buy. In the podcast, Amy described why it’s so important to “change your language”.
In a mindfulness class I’m taking, they talk of “changing your storyline”. It’s about shifting the tone, having self-compassion, cultivating better habits, and believing something better. I like that. I want that. I need that.
just don't expect a fairly tale.
