How Else Are They Going to Heal

Okay...so, look! For the most part, I am a strong intelligent independent beautiful woman; but I am beginning to believe that every super hero has a sort of "kryptonite". You know? That one thing that pulls you from the clouds by your cape and slams you debilitated on the sidewalk? Yeah, that kryptonite.

In order to even begin this blog, I have to reference my previous post "This is Closure". It doesn't take a rocket scientist to decipher that I am one of many other people that fall into the trap of going back to a dysfunctional ex. Let's be real, shall we! I basically have gone back to my ex much the same way as Barry the bee tries to bust through the window.

 "This time" from The Bee Movie

I would also like to point out that it was rather comical even to me when I came back to pound out these thoughts on my poor keyboard to discover that another previous post's title was "Quitting is Just Not My Style". So, yeah! You all probably were able to predict what was going to happen even before I went through it...again.

Therefore, I would like to take the time to tell anyone else (male or female, really) before you go back to an ex, DON'T! You can think about it; but just DON'T DO IT! The key here is to THINK about it. CRITICALLY THINK about it! Don't romanticize about it. BE REAL! If it was all so glorious, you would have never agreed to end it in the first place now would you!? However, when you do (as some of you, like me, will do) and WHEN (not if) it fails, LEARN from it. I can honestly say that in the...what was it... five times...oh, lord I've lost count (YES, I'M THICK! Reread the opening there, Judgey Wudgey)...anyway - in all the many times I flew back to "Mr. Psycho McLamedick" (names have been changed to protect the guilty) and was smashed on the pavement, I did learn something.

Let me explain. So, here I am sitting at work cowering in the middle of the aftermath of emotions that are flooding over me as is always the case when we break up. Finally, I get a moment when I think I am the only one in the office. Thinking the coast is clear, the pressure cooker inside me releases some steam. There go the flood gates! I do manage to cry somewhat quietly in case some one comes back in unexpectedly but if anyone was in the office, they could have heard me. After about 3 - 5 minutes of a good cry, I commence to blowing my nose (Ladies, I don't need to explain the details of what kind of a nose blow a good 3-5 minute cry will produce). That's when I hear someone walk by! DANG IT! How could I forget a co-worker was in my very small office you ask? Well, it's only because he's like a little mouse quiet and confined to his space most of the day (Gah! you people really are judgey.)! I quickly turn my back to the doorway of my office and attempt to clear up before he walks back by. FAILED!

Thankfully, he was kind, gracious, and professional. He asked if I was ok to which after some discourse I replied, "I just need to stop licking my wounds." Get ready for his mind blowing response! He said, "How else are they going to heal." Well, just like the scripture that says, "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver..." (Proverbs 25:11) that response just melted into me and gilded to my soul. Immediately, a deep healing warmed over me and instantly gave me permission to be nice to myself. When a dog is wounded, he can be found licking the wound gently and incessantly to keep it from getting infected and to speed up the healing process. He's not biting or growling at himself. On the contrary! Rather, he snaps and growls at any potential threat that could keep him from healing or even hurt him further. Take this for whatever it's worth; but as for me I'm going to go find a dark safe corner to take care of myself until I'm ready to be approached again..."and that's ok".

This Is Closure

So, I’m curiously thinking that your Vegas Trip was with the new girl you found when you were last on POF just after we celebrated Father’s Day together. Maybe that’s why you changed your mind about taking me. Of course as hard as it is for you to keep your attention on anything, there could have been several women.

What’s funny is even if that’s not true, it wouldn’t have been the first time you have been shady while we were together. The last time we broke up was because of a message a brunette woman left me about being in your bed while I was at conference. The time before that was because of the inappropriate relationship you had (maybe even still have) with Tiffanie.

So, maybe YOU’VE been the unfaithful one from the very beginning and maybe THAT’S the real reason you never trusted me and was always checking my phone. You judged me so strictly because you knew your own behavior. You assumed that everyone acts like you when you think no one can see you.

You’ll never admit it, I know, because you can never admit that you do anything wrong. After all, you blame me for always running away but refuse to see how your gradual (but all too apparent) intolerance of me makes you aggressively and abrasively push me out the door when you’re done with me.

All I know is this, our mutual defense mechanisms made us completely incompatible; and for that I am so deeply sorry.

However, I now have enough information to finally be done with you. Regardless, thank you for being you because (while I am a slow learner), at least, I FINALLY learned. And when I come to the end of my life, if I am alone, it will be because I CHOOSE to be.

Your package is in the mail and after this message you will be completely removed from my phone and will never hear from me again. Yes, I did leave...AGAIN. However, I finally choose to believe that you pushing me away really does mean you don’t want me. So, I will never be coming back (not that you would ever ask me to).

I hope for your sake and all the women you encounter that you finally figure out what you want. I hope you can someday believe that you are NOT your father and that what he said about you was WRONG because that, my friend, is the only thing preventing you from having healthy “companionship”. I always loved you deeper, stronger, and more than anyone else in my life. I always will. Nothing will change that and...funny...THAT will change nothing.

Love Always,

Shery

I Wish

I wish I could tell you "I love you!".
I wish that was not considered wrong now.
I wish I could feel your arms wrapped around me and listen to your breath deepen as we fall asleep.
I wish we could laugh together and cook breakfast on Sunday mornings together again.
I wish for a lot of things; but most of all, I wish I didn't wish for any of these things and more.
Because all you ever wished is for me to go.

Quitting is Just Not My Style

My brother and I had a childhood relationship much like every other sibling relationship. Three years separate us. So as kids, we were close enough to have fun together but still far enough apart to annoy the piss out of each other. My childhood memories include my brother defending me against bullies; trekking through the woods exploring uncharted territories so long as we didn't go too far out of our back yard; losing money to him for various hair brained schemes he'd come up with; and getting the wind knocked out of me during football games.

The memory of playing football with my brother and his friends stands out because he would never allow anyone else to tackle me but him. I thought this would keep me safer from harm. However, experience proved he was harder on me than the others ever would have been. Looking back, I believe that his theory was if he hit me hard enough I would just quit. On one occasion, he pummeled me so hard that I didn't just bounce back to my feet. As a matter of fact, I remember it taking a bit of time just to catch my breath. I recall him standing over me when he said, "So, I suppose your going to quit now." in a sort of reverse psychological tone. At that age, though, I didn't know what psychology was let alone the reversal of it.

In a matter of seconds, I had a decision to make. Either I could quit and go find some dolls to play with, or continue on in a realm I had no business being in. No-one would have been anything but relieved had I, the only girl, spared myself the potential of broken bones and left a crowd of teenage boys on a football field. Regardless, I heard a tone in my brother's voice that made me believe he was afraid I was going to quit. So, hell no! I wasn't going to quit. If he could play on so could I. Filled with the notion that quitting was absurd, I didn't want to be considered weak or a failure.

Despite the fact that my skills were grossly inadequate for that situation, I didn't want anyone else to know that! Especially my brother. His opinion of me mattered. I wanted his acceptance. In that moment (as well as many others after) I emulated or mirrored him. Over the years, I have found that strong male figures who I admire and love have tremendous influence over me. Unfortunately, three specific men in my adult life have wreaked a lot of damage to my heart with varying degrees of severity. What's worse is I allowed it. Each time I [metaphorically] got the wind knocked out of me, I bounced back to my feet slower and slower.

Today, as I lay on my back counting the stars circling my head, I feel tempted to stay down here. Maybe I just need to catch my breath. No one would blame me. I think some expect it and others think I should just quit already.

Here's the thing, though. That's never been my style. My brother making that inquisitorial statement, "So I suppose you're going to quit now." wasn't what inspired me to bounce back to my feet. Yes, in that moment, he truly wanted me to quit and leave him and his friends alone - and rightfully so. But, my fear kept me going - fear of failure, fear of humiliation, fear of being inadequate and rejected. When given the opportunity, that fear manifested as pride. When given the option to fight or take flight, I chose then and still do to this day to fight every time. Maybe that inclination was put there by God. Regardless, this moment with my brother was the first time it manifested.

I'm still very much afraid of all of those things (i.e. failure, inadequacy, humiliation, rejection, etc.). However, ask any competitor who the most difficult opponent is and he/she will tell you it is the one that never quits. Nelson Mandela said, "I learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." So, if Aristotle said, "I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self.", then I guess I must be brave.

...now if I could just get a little help off the ground. I'm not as young and spry as I use to be.

I Never Did Mind About the Little Things

Charles Martin in his book entitled "Where The River Ends" describes an event called "the hatch". It is a time of year where mosquitoes hatch from their eggs strategically laid in watery wombs. I pray this event is fictional. If it is not, I pray I am never anywhere near the sight where this occurs as Mr. Martin adequately describes the appetite and veracity of these infant blood suckers to the point where the reader can actually visualize what the character in the book goes through once the demons reach him.
     "Most of my skin and hair turned black...Every inhale brought bugs down my throat. Abbie was screaming and slapping herself, while the bugs flew into my nose, my ears, my eyes and bit me through my clothes or on bare skin. Within seconds, my skin and face were on fire."

Later, he describes his appearance after escaping the violent insect mob.
     "I, on the other hand, was swelling and starting to look like somebody had shoved an air hose up my nose and inflated my face." And he went on to say, "My face was on fire and both my left ear and left eye were nearly swollen shut. The tops of my hands and fingers were so fat that the paddle felt twice as thick as it had an hour ago."

I want to point out the difference in the way the two characters responded to this winged attack. First, let's look at the male character named Doss. Once he heard the sound, he took action and ran for shelter thinking only of protecting his wife. While his adrenaline was pumping, he never lost focus on what he needed to do. Now, Abbie, on the other hand reacted completely differently.
     "She slapped me six or eight times in the face, each slap growing harder each time. Abbie hated mosquitoes. She was about to slap me again when I grabbed her hand. 'Honey...you're not helping.' Blood was dripping out of the corner of my mouth where she'd hit me. 'Oh...oops.'"

Yes, men and women do respond differently to the same circumstances just by virtue of gender. However, no matter what gender one may be, I believe there can be calculated responses to potentially overwhelming situations. However, we must be willing to stop and think instead of reacting out of sheer unbridled emotion.

Oddly enough, this reminds me of a 90's movie entitled "Assassins / Point of No Return". Bridget Fonda and Anne Bancroft star together in a scene where Anne's character (Amanda) must train Bridget's character (Maggie) etiquette to balance her rigid assassin training. Amanda tells Maggie to smile when she finds herself in an uncomfortable situation and say, "I never did mind about the little things." Amanda's statement in this film has stuck with me and troubled me greatly all these years. You see, I've struggled to foster a feminine refined demeanor to counter the protective turtle shell I have crafted around me. While Amanda's statement may be an escape hatch in a troublesome social situation, I find it deceptive but at the same time controlled. Then I realize social situations and society as a whole thrive on these two ingredients. We remain calm, cool, and collected in times of trial because not to would expose our vulnerability, make others uncomfortable, and may even invoke chaos. And we cannot have chaos, can we? In my journey to find my own truth and path, I have a hard time not seeing this as hypocritical. Maturity and time has taught me, though, that it is not necessary to expose everything to everyone.

Now, remaining collected and graceful may be easy to do when A mosquito anchors to one's flesh. One could simply swat the sucker away while quipping, "I never did mind about the little things." glide their nose skyward and sip some Earl Grey with left pinky slightly lifted. But I cannot imagine accomplishing this display when one is swarmed with fifty thousand mosquitoes. Even Audrey Hepburn may have a strand of hair come out of place while trying to escape a vicious swarm of that magnitude.

All this is to say that life is full of troublesome, irritating, and nagging situations. We all know this. Admittedly, there is a temptation in me to reform society by breaking the norms, expose vulnerability, and break pretenses and facades with radical honesty. After all, society is about nothing more than appearing to have it all together equipped with all the answers when in fact that could not be further from the truth. On the other hand, however, society still has some redeemable qualities. Manners and etiquette are something I not only believe in but I admire them in others. So, once again, I find myself teetering between two ideas trying to establish balance.

Balance did not come to Bridgett Fonda's angry character in the movie just by blowing away her targets as a means of seeking vengeance for her dysfunctional life. Neither did she find peace when Anne Bancroft's character tried to refine her. Maggie had to find her own way out of a mess. In my interpretation of the movie, she used the sum of her life (past, present, and future), the people she loved and those responsible for educating her to decide her own path. In order to do this, Maggie had to make tough, scary, calculated, and deliberate decisions. The statement, "I never did mind about the little things." was meant to force emotions and thoughts into submission before squeezing a hair trigger. Life is full of conflict both internal and external. No one is perfect at picking their conflicts all the time. The trick is to find peace amidst strife. When peace comes, that is when I will be able to smile and say, "I never did mind about the little things." for with peace comes clarity of mind. With clarity of mind, comes discernment to define what ''little things" are versus what is paramount.

Vertigo

To open or close her eyes - it makes no difference.
Night gets darker with each blink.
Bracing and balancing against the wall or is it the floor?
Feet feel for support on the ceiling.
Progress is impossible on a circular path.
Is there an exit or just more mirrors?
Maybe when she falls asleep she will wake from this reality.

I Wonder

Knowing that I am touchy and sensitive has never been much of a secret to anyone. What has been difficult is knowing how to balance the sensitive feminine side of me with the "she-devil" that appears when I feel mistreated, taken advantage of, or offended. In an earlier post, I made a commitment to becoming a survivor. In this process, I have encountered a perplexing dilemma. In an effort to endure some past scenarios, I traded my femininity for a rough and tough exterior. There was no depth to this veneer at all. It was only a facade to disguise who I really am as a means to protect myself from harm. This did not create emotional balance in me. It only served to throw all the weight to another side.

Suffice it to say, then, that it has not been easy shifting the weights appropriately. I am currently asking God for wisdom to know what I need to change or how to see things through His eyes because I am in such unfamiliar territory. I do not feel equipped to adequately assess my progress. For instance, a scenario recently at work involved a disagreement between myself and a co-worker regarding whether I could replace a picture in my office that had been there prior to my arrival (possibly before any one's arrival by the looks of it) with one of my own personal wall hangings. My co-worker seemed to protest my request passionately, causing me to react. A whole host of thoughts and emotions rose up in me - too many to type out. In short, I took it personally and therefore, became defensive. Despite my efforts to restrain my emotions, my face exposed (as usual) everything I was feeling. A disagreement ensued, which bothered me well into the next morning when I was further offended by my co-worker's seeming smug attitude, which made me feel like she was rubbing something in my face. Overall, I do not feel very successful in dealing with this situation appropriately and professionally.

You see, I understand that in life disagreements will happen. I understand that I cannot experience euphoria every second of every day. However, once the disagreement was addressed and seemingly resolved, I think there should have been a shut off switch that allowed me to let it go and move on. What is it about me that allows me to feel even the most trivial things so deeply? This sort of vulnerability and propensity is where I feel the greatest temptation to put on my rough and tough exterior again. Making such mountains out of molehills, especially when I see others glide through similar situations with the greatest of ease, is so frustrating to me. It makes me wonder if I should just make peace about it and stop negating or ignoring my emotions since they are mine and I have a "right" to them; but that thinking repulses me. On the other hand, I cannot help but sense that there is something I am missing - some metaphorical key that will unlock an invisible door to wonderful new insights and skills that will assist me in all my future confrontations. Does such a thing exist? I wonder...