Conquering the mole hills

So I need to stop conquering the mole hills like they were the mighty Colorado mountains. Why do I seek out discord where there is none? Am I so conditioned to be attuned to the ever so loud thump  of the other shoe falling that I can’t listen to the incredible music all around me? I need to stop it. Right now. I have come across one of the best things to happen to me and I feel so scared. It’s the littlest things I am making into a big ordeal. I wish I could reason this out. Is there was some obvious reason for  turning  nothing into something? I know I am abnormally sensitive. I know I am really intense. I feel these things to my core. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I am blessed for these attributes.

I don’t want to mess this up.  I have been through the frogs, the toads, the venomous scorpions. I have survived the unpredictability of a raging alcoholic.   I deserve goodness.  I have to keep repeating this. Everyday. Until I actually believe it. Every single day.

Have you ever had to remind yourself of the goodness that you so deserve? Did it work? Can you actualize goodness just by finally believing it?

Please share your experience.
Thanks and have an amazing evening!

No drama, no problem

As I got ready for bed, I was playing around Facebook. I posted an old picture of me as a blonde. Check out my About Me Page: I am clearly not blonde. I was feeling nostalgic for circa 2009.  I guess as I got ready to actually sleep, I found that I couldn’t. More nostalgic than ever, I guess.  And now just realizing that I may just be plagued with a writer’s mind. Why is it that my most intense thoughts come late at night? Why do I not trust my self to remember them in the morning at a more post-appropriate hour? I am SO NOT a night person. However, I am compelled to write now. I keep hearing “don’t write it later,  censored by a good night’s sleep and a will to kindly protect those who crushed me”…So I trudge on.

Instead of counting sheep tonight, I found myself counting all the past relationships (female friends, male friends, boyfriends, husband, girl I mentored) that were so toxic for me that I had to leave them in the past. Leaving those relationships behind , as venomous to my spirit as they were, were some of my most difficult and turbulent moments in the last 5-6 years. The most interesting thing is that the memories are coming back into my thoughts at a time where I am developing a very nice healthy relationship. It’s as if I am setting out to sabotage myself with still-too-vivid memories of disappointment, betrayal, distrust, sadness, perpetual anxiety, and loss. Basically  a Pandora’s box of misery. Why, oh why? Why are they coming to the surface now?  I have a  really awesome  thing going here.

What.Am.I.Doing.To.Myself?  I would almost think if I was some psychologist, that  I just suffer from low self-esteem, that perhaps I don’t know how to deal with a great thing when it comes, perpetually destined to  think: “do I deserve this?”. Maybe the damage is done. The horrid years of being bullied/harrassed/perpetually teased  and no way back.  How would I know smooth sailing if the sailboat’s boom hit me in the face?  I wouldn’t.  Or at least I haven’t. That needs to change. Now.  What I can tell you, after quite  a few years of self discovery, is that I know that I, do in fact, deserve good and amazing things.  I know  my diet and exercise achievements, my acquisition of French as a foreign language, and blogging are a great start. A healthy relationship is here. It is my job not to royally  fuck it up.

So I am learning. Learning from a very good guy that there can be life with out drama, anxiety, sabotage, frequently broken hearts or abundant tears. Why in Hell did it take me so damn long?  I seriously hope you are not planning on telling me that perhaps I wasn’t ready for it.  Yet, I would probably end up agreeing with you in the end.  My life could potentially and finally be so much better than it was 5-7 years ago. I am starting to feel great and if I don’t watch out, I am going to turn into my worst enemy and really mess up a fantastic thing.

Be your own advocate. Be your own support system and accept the wisdom of your friends around you. Sometimes, if you are really lucky, they know you pretty damn well. I guess I have been blessed this whole time,  after all!

And, yes, you ARE worth it. You ALWAYS were.  Don’t fuck it up!

 

 

You can’t change the process

Okay, so I think the healthiest thing I can attempt to do is to NOT change the process. I realize that’s probably where my problems all started in the past. I always rushed it along, plowed through the slow beginnings and BAM! Sabotage. And oops, I did it again! So, that’s not going to happen this time. I have learned time and time again that change and new paths can be uncomfortable. I know they are. I hate that!  But if the process dictates that I need to take one step at a time, respecting my own space and the guy’s, then that IS exactly what I will do.

So you say the new part of any relationship is the exciting part?  The butterflies in my stomach part? The never knowing what you’ll learn part?  Well, exciting is not my strong suit in matters of the heart. I am not an adrenaline junkie  and with a tad of anxiety (be quiet those friends who know me!),  this has been by far the most difficult part. I want to get to the part where we are comfortable and routine. Where we know what the other wants, needs.  What? What did you say? I need to be patient? Funny, I keep hearing that in my head, too!

So if you have to be patient and slow to create something more lasting and less fleeting, then that’s exactly what I will do.

Be patient people! It seems to be the way to go with these adult, grown up relationship deals!

Relationship Quandary

I have been single for quite some time; amidst all the dating and meeting people who are, well, not for me. I write, I power walk, I learn French. I keep busy. It’s all good. I generally am comfortable in my own skin and don’t mind being alone. I am extremely independent and have been single a lot of my adult life.

Then I meet this guy. I don’t want to jinx anything, so I don’t want to say too much right now! I am very happy and I like him very much. I have not said that about ANYBODY in a long time. A.Very.Long.Time. Honestly, I don’t even know when, since my divorce. I have a guy I really like and who has said he really likes me. So I should be feeling awesome and full of butterflies. Which I do feel. 100%. So why do I also  feel more lonely at home alone now than when I was single and did not have any body that feels this way about me? I feel like I need to stop the level of neediess I feel to hear from him and be with him.This is SO NOT the post-Hell, post-War, post-Divorce me. It’s just not.

I have come too far to  feel this lonely.
If anyone has insight on how an independent, confident, intelligent woman could survive Hell, then get lonely the minute she meets someone she could really be happy with? I can’t sabotage this.

Please comment and help me out if you have any insight or can relate to what this whole mess of a real healthy relationship is, because its my first chance at this kind of happiness in a long time and I don’t want to mess it up.

 

Blue Jeans

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These jeans  are only six years old, but they look older than they are. I bought them in 2010 as I was leaving a particularly difficult chapter in my life. I was living in Florida and had a shopping bag full of clothes, but only tank tops and shorts. My mother came down to help me with some personal things (like finding a divorce attorney, obtaining temporary housing, etc). My mom and  I knew I was headed toward a very difficult transition in my life. I had spent a few days at a friend’s place after being forced to leave my home where I lived for 9 months. She gave us a few nights in a gorgeous hotel in Sarasota. She took me to the mall to get a few things. Most of my things would be in a locked storage center till I saved money to get my own place in Denver (where I belonged). This pair of jeans was one of the few items of clothes I picked out. I brought them back to Denver with me. I did have a chance to grab more clothes, but these jeans made the move with me.

Six years later:  I am not a sentimental person as far as material goods go. So why with all these rips and tattered seams am I holding on to these jeans? If I thought it was because I never worked through the events that went down in Florida before I left, that would be easy. But I did that, thoroughly. I wish it was as easy as that. I went through Hell toward the end in Florida..and even for the first several years after I left that house in September 2010. I am pretty much on the other side now. I am very good at purging “stuff” that doesn’t fit, torn, stained, even 25-year-old college t-shirts.

So what’s with the jeans???  Should I hold  on to them since they are pretty cool and they fit me perfectly and just release the emotional baggage attached? Or do I pitch them in the trash?