I Am Sensitive: Hear Me Roar

In a harsh world, showing vulnerability is hard.
Showing transparency comes off as weak.
In a harsh world, I grew to hate myself
For being "too" sensitive,
For caring "too" much.

People have told me I should stop caring so much,
"Don't take everything on so deeply," they've said.
As if I could just blink and transform the core of my being.

No one cares. No, not really.
That's not the world we live in.
Everyone is looking for the quickest form of
Instant gratification.
And it's probably not even their fault.

But what if that's not who I am?
Maybe that's not who I want to be?

I loathe the thought of feeling nothing
Even more than the thought of taking it all on.

Maybe it is excruciating:
The weight of my feelings
And fears.
The tears I cry and the standards I hold
The love I want and the love I give.

Seeking something pure and true
In a shallow, damaged world
Has honestly felt pointless at times.

But it is still there.
Just not where we've been looking.

We can only find depth by looking deeper.
In both ourselves and others.
Deeper is real, raw, genuine, awkward moments.
Deeper is putting yourself out there.
Deeper is making yourself vulnerable.
Deeper is telling it like it is. Saying how you feel
Without filter,
Without trying to appear another way.
Deeper is not in your comfort zone.
Deeper is not in your phone.
Deeper is not the hundreds of surface, superficial relationships.
Deeper is being yourself, without the facade.
Deeper is being yourself, without someone else dictating who that should be.

Deeper is uncomfortable, but in my opinion
It's the only thing in life that's worth our time.

xo

"A sensitive soul sees the world through the lens of love."

Love Lessons Learned

Up until several months ago, "love," romantic love, had not been kind to me. "Love" was toxic. Deceitful, manipulative, physically and mentally abusive, belittling and painful. 

"Love" wasn't really love at all.
My experiences made me bitter and shut off, happier to be accepting a life alone.

Over the past months, I have received more love than the sum of my entire 28 years on this earth. A real love. A forgiving, understanding, open-minded, communicating, timeless and unconditional love that has changed my views on what love should and can be. I know this because it is so unlike any of the treatment I ever received before. He says to me often, "I don't care about being right. I care about working through this together." Totally simple, right? Well, for me, totally RARE. And totally something no one had ever said to me before.

One night I sobbed, fairly early on in the relationship, after a long day and a pretty heavy episode of depression I cried, "I don't want you to see me like this."

Without any hesitation he reassured me, "I think that it's a privilege that you let me be a part of that. The good, the bad and the ugly. That's life and that's real. It wouldn't feel real if you didn't let me see every part and I feel privileged that you let me in to see all of it, every little part. I will always be here for it, I'm not going anywhere."

If you put your heart in the hands of the undeserving enough times, you eventually FINALLY learn what you want and what you deserve. I was just really starting to believe that it wasn't for me and that there wasn't a chance I'd find it.

But one day without even realizing, everything just falls into place.

Love means something different to me now.
Since the moment we met, I have had this bursting feeling inside. I find myself crying still. But this time, not out of hurt and pain as I have always been accustomed to, but tears of joy welling inside of me. I have a best friend with whom I can share the deepest, darkest corners of my soul.

ALLLLLLLL of that being said, my point isn't to boast. I am ecstatic to be at this point in my life. But I experienced years upon years of pain and hurt. They got me good and there were points I was convinced that I'd NEVER make it through and that I'd NEVER get over it.
The part that I really want to share is that there IS a big picture.

We experience pain and heartbreak so that we might be able to appreciate genuine love and kindness when it does comes into our lives.
It toughens us up. Makes us stronger. Teaches us who we are and what we can be without relying on someone else to tell us. I had to discover my own worth before I could demand someone else's respect and high standards.

It's important to note that love isn't pain. With all of the songs, TV shows and movies out there portraying this idea that love is fighting and making up. Screaming at each other, throwing things, breaking things, cheating, arguing, bickering, breaking up and making up. All of that is portrayed as "love" and "passion" in our society, but that couldn't be farther from true. I'm not saying that you're never going to disagree or argue, but accepting those things as norm will lead to a lifetime of pain that no one deserves. Even though it seems "passionate," these things are toxic abuse, NOT love.

I know, because I've been there.
Things like attachment, codependency, addiction, obsession and comfort can all be easily mistaken for love.
But just because it is all you've known doesn't mean that it is real. Not in its purest form, not love as it is meant to be.
You only have one life to live and you DESERVE to fill it with the most genuine, honest feelings of kindness, caring, forgiveness, acceptance and pure love.
From yourself first, and then from others.

Be patient.

xoxo

with you 

i am desperately understood.

--f.d. soul 

My Own Damn Self

A few weeks ago, Maylene's class had a special presentation night and as I was sitting there, surrounded by the families, the couples and the children--completely out of nowhere, I had a severe anxiety attack.

While the kids were up on stage, I casually scanned the room and happened to glance at one of the performing children's parents. They looked at each other and smiled, as if to telepathically say, "we done good." An absolutely beautiful moment.

And to be honest, one I've never had.

From there, my thoughts started to unravel at warp speeds and before I knew it, I was sitting there fighting back a stream of tears and emotions.

In that moment, I just wanted to know what it felt like. To have the validation, to have the reassurance.. coming from someone else.

You see, as most single parents, my survival is dependent on my necessity to be my own cheerleader.

When the going gets tough, I don't get to send her off to dad to ease the pressure. When we run out of bread at 9pm and Maylene's asleep, I can't leave her with dad while I make a grocery store run. There's no, "go ask you dad." There's no one to split the driving, cooking, cleaning, disciplining, teaching, playing, homework, or bills with. And there's no one for me to glance over and smile at in a moment of pride, for our child.

For a moment there, I was feeling sorry for myself. I tried to imagine how different everything would be if this wasn't the way it had happened.

That's when it all came full circle for me. I realized, I don't think Maylene would be the same child that she is today without our given situation, however tough or imperfect it might be. Because of my sole income, she has never been spoiled. Because she has watched and helped me do it all by myself, she is independent. Because I'm the only one she's around most of the time, she's got an impeccable sense of humor. Wink wink.

Quickly, I looked up and saw my daughter on stage. Happy, entertaining and full of life. I realized that she was the one I needed to take a meaningful look at. I needed to take a moment to deeply reflect on who she is. To recognize, yes, she is a kid and no, she isn't perfect. But her heart is kind, she's growing, learning and healthy.

She makes me a proud mother and I realized that it is okay to pat yourself on the back, to tell yourself you've done good. It's more than okay, it's absolutely necessary.

It doesn't matter whether you're a single parent or not, or even a parent at all for that matter. You can't ever forget to be your own cheerleader. Don't let the absence of someone else keep you from telling yourself what you need to hear most. Honest reflection in parenting and any aspect of life is so important, but you have to make sure that your goals and shortcomings do not block the way for the most critical self-reminders: you are doing a DAMN good job and that does NOT change based on whether someone else is there to recognize it and tell you on a daily basis.

xo

Don't Blink

As you probably noticed, I've been on a bit of a blogging hiatus. I've gone to write so many times and I have stopped myself. As a single mother and an empath, it is often my first instinct to turn to writing when life gets tough. Not because I think that I am unique in my hardships or because I want to focus on the negatives, but because I know that my struggles are what have shaped me. Strengthened me. Made me who I am and shown me what I am capable of. What's that thing they say? "A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor." Well, I believe it. Writing helps me see that.

It has been almost exactly one year since my last post and, in reflection, I've been thinking about what has changed. What hasn't. What got easier, and what became more challenging. Either way, it's been helpful to acknowledge that, even when it doesn't feel like it, I am evolving. I am growing as a person and a parent and I am not the same mom that I was a year ago or five years ago.

My baby May isn't a baby anymore. I look at her and all of the cutie baby chub is officially gone. Just a few months away from 1st grade and it feels impossible, surreal.

It feels like yesterday I was lying in the operating room sobbing tears of joy, "let me see her, let me see her!" At the same time, I truly don't remember what life felt like before motherhood. I don't remember the way my heart loved or the way my soul experienced life. Of course it changed me, but I truly can't remember what it felt like to not love like this. Worry like this. Ache like this. Grind like this. Sleep (or not) like this. Care like this. All of that, but mostly love.

A fun little side note and tidbit about me, if you don't already know, is that I love quotes. I have a quotation mark tattoo on my back and I love that it confuses the hell out of people. The words, wisdom and experiences of others have always inspired me and stuck with me in a special way. Plus, I'm not always so eloquent, so I'm also a firm believer that "Someone else has already said it best." (American History X reference ftw!).

One of my favorite quotes that I read this past year is, "Motherhood: the days are long, but the years are short. Don't blink." There are few things I relate to more. Sometimes the reality of those words feel painfully true, and sometimes they feel wonderfully true. The days fly by and you don't even notice. You get to see your child growing, learning, evolving, changing, becoming. Who they are and who they are meant to be. But you also get to reflect on your shortcomings and failures as a parent. So many days I took the "lazy way" out. So many times I should have played with those stuffed animals on the bedroom floor before she grew out of them.

Parenthood is full of regret. For me it is, anyway. But I am learning too. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. My regrets have fueled growth. My shortcomings have sparked change. My failures have humbled me: I am not perfect, I will never be. But every single day I am trying. That is life. That is human. And that is the most important reminder of all: parents are still [just] humans.

xoxo

Signing off for a bit..

My heart feels heavy lately. I don't know if I can really find the words to explain it.

I look at my Facebook memories and I see 9+ years. But 9+ years of what? At first, MySpace and Facebook were a fun addition to life. I could chat with friends after I came home from school. I could share pictures and, at first, it felt like a way I could say the things I didn't have the courage to say in person.

But now, it just feels like a facade that I hide behind. Bluntly, social media has been devastating to my anxiety, depression, self-esteem and confidence. It has been devastating because I have allowed it to be.

I need some time to get away and clear my mind, so I am signing off for a bit. I need my real life back. I need myself back.

Likes do not make me a good person.

A beautiful face, a beautiful picture do not equate to a beautiful soul.

Arguing over issues from behind a keyboard has not changed anyone's mind in the history of EVER.

I am still passionate about the issues and movements that mean a lot to me, but I have been using the wrong platform.

Posting a status about it does not help the problem.

Gloating about my accomplishments and receiving "cyber praise" does not make me feel better about who I am.

Comparing myself to other mothers online does not make me a better mother.

It is a platform that is meant to show the surface, but I long for the depths of life.

We all have good intentions. But for me, it has been destructive. And I need a break. I long for more friendships. True, wholesome, raw friendships and relationships. I have unknowingly and unintentionally consumed my life with a social platform that has brought very little positivity into my life. I have used it as a crutch for my general and social anxiety for far too long. And now I feel that I can't get those years back.

Please call me, please text me, please show up to my house. If you run into me, please come up and chat. Please hang out with me. I want the realness and rawness back in my life.

I'm ready for a change.

Thursday Thoughts

Did your mom ever tell you, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"? She was right, and talking nicely also applies when you're talking to yourself, even inside your head.

Just yesterday, my brother was telling everyone about the time my daughter said, "I look so beautiful. Tell me how beautiful I look!" And even though it gave us all a good laugh, I wish I could take that confidence, save it all up and somehow keep her from ever letting go of that. Ever.

As a parent, one of my biggest fears is watching my child go through the same things that I struggled with. As I watch this world become colder and more critical, I want to ignite a confidence in my child that can't be dulled. No matter what anyone has to say to her.

More important than confidence, though, I want to instill in her a a genuine sense of self-awareness. For when you are self-aware, you truly can't be cut down by the words and thoughts of others. When you know your strengths and weaknesses intimately, you can take pride in what you do well and work on the things you lack. When you know yourself, others' perceptions of you cease to matter. This is what I want--for myself, for my daughter, for everyone. No one's words can hurt worse than the ones you tell yourself, so speak kindly and honestly.

"It all begins and ends in your mind. What you give power to, has power over you." --Leon Brown

Untitled

I've spent a long time going back and forth on whether I wanted to publish this post or not. I have felt embarrassed, ashamed and weak. I finally decided that I'm just going to put it all out there because a) I have no reason to be ashamed and b) if there is even the slightest chance that I can help someone going through a similar situation, I am JUMPING at the chance.

I've dealt with depression for years. I've always been pretty open about it. I've mentioned it a few times in previous posts. It has been a part of who I am for as long as I can remember. Up until a few months ago, my depression was ~sufferable but endurable~. I lived with it. It got hard sometimes, I struggled through. I cried a lot. Felt completely numb other times. Was exhausted, always. And I had many, many times that I felt I just wanted to die.

In November, I was admitted to the hospital for four days because I was suicidal. I hit a new low that I had never even fathomed before. I did NOT want to endure the pain of living for a single second longer. In my mind, there was absolutely NO chance that things could get better.

I felt doomed. Like there was absolutely no hope.

I felt guilty. I would tell myself, "This is against my religion. This is a sin. This is wrong. I am a bad person for having these thoughts. Only bad people find solace in death."

I felt like a failure as a parent. I felt like my daughter was better off without me, that she deserved a mother who could be more present, a mother that could be happy, like I was "supposed to be."

I felt defeated. So unmotivated that I didn't even want to move.

I felt selfish. Like I was letting my daughter down. Spending too much time worrying about myself.
I felt ungrateful. I knew I had a wonderful life and so many things to be thankful for and happy about.

I felt embarrassed. I felt weak. I felt like I was less of a person because I had "allowed myself to get so bad."

To make a long story semi-short, I spent four days in the hospital with no connection to the outside world whatsoever, aside from my Mom coming to visit me during the evening visiting hours. I fought it, I had no desire to stay. I had no faith that any of it was going to get better. My loved ones pushed me to stay and take care of myself. It was, by far, the hardest thing emotionally, that I have ever been through. But it was, EASILY, the most important thing I have EVER done for myself. The doctors took amazing care of me, and got me to the point that my depression is now manageable.

However, my whole experience still leaves me feeling a bit uneasy--and here's why: The stigma of depression and other mental illnesses is just unreal. If someone is in the hospital with a broken leg, they receive an outpouring of love and support. When someone suffers with depression, the fact that the sickness cannot be seen seems to give people the idea that it is make-believe.

I have a chemical imbalance in my brain.
I didn't DO anything to myself to create this chemical imbalance.
I am not less of a person because my brain's chemicals are imbalanced.
I am not looking for pity or attention because the chemicals in my brain are imbalanced.

At a time when people NEED love and support more than ever, they are met with shame and embarrassment. I am blessed beyond words because I have a wonderful, wonderful family and a few, select friends who have been overwhelmingly supportive. My fear is for the people who don't have that support. Because, even when you do have it, battling depression is still excruciating. Belittling what someone is going through just because their illness is not physical or visible is WRONG. More importantly, it cultivates the stigma and makes it harder for all of those dealing with depression to recover or even just treat it.

I hope this post is not met with any ill understanding, because I am just hoping to give light to an issue that I have dealt with (and continue to deal with), personally. Though my hope is that I will never have to see anyone in my life go through these things, I want to use this as an opportunity to share my hope to help anyone, in absolutely any way I can.

xoxo