I just re-read the description of a journal on here and noticed it's suggested to have one thread with my journal so I will do so from here on out. I wrote a poem about two weeks ago and it seems time to post here:
The Snap
My emotions were inside the candy cane
Many, many years of adding layers of sugar, flavor and colors
First by my parents, then myself, my husband and others
Sometimes little holes where sweet steam escaped
In fear, irritation and anger
And I sucked on the candy cane and called it life and joy
Until the day my husband stopped by snapping it in half
and leaving candy counter...
So all of the pain, the grief, the anger, the fear and even a manic type joy burst into the world
They had been captured inside the sweetness
Unaware, unregulated, but free
Messy
The syrup covered everything
The colors and the flavors mixed
But I separated them and began to truly taste
And I start a new, healthier recipe
Gradually separating & identifying the colors, the flavors
Sadness, nobility, empowered, anger, irritation, joy, serenity, surprise...
Like strawberries, pomegranates and chocolate
Popcorn, pecans, potatoes and tamales
Even sardines, oysters, and tacos de lengua
And so I learn to take the emotions with the experiences
Give them names
Experience the taste
And health
And healing
Of my new table setting
Of my new life
I had to read that a few times to understand the imagery (sorry, I've been rather tired and sluggish these past few days). It's a good metaphor for the kind of euphemistic excuses we tend to have inside of us, things we were encouraged to think about what our life used to be like. Sugary sweet and sticky, and of course candy canes are rather bland, when you think of it - there's no real taste to them, just artificial flavours... and then that breaks down and releases all the truth that was trapped inside of it. I like the image, and the ending too.
Thanks Cat. I hadn't thought about the candy cane tastes, but your right, never have cared for them much ;)
That's what's funny about metaphors - they're like suitcases you can unpack. So while you're writing them, you just toss them into your text because they feel right, and then later you look at them again and realize that they're expressing more than you realized at the time. Our subconscious knows best, sometimes. I read your poem again today, and I still think a candy cane is an awesome metaphor for white-washing and denial and euphemisms. :cheer:
Well said Cat...great "food" for thought on what we say and write haha ;)
My parents said my old nickname now I dislike that name...
My recent unpleasant boss said my next name w/irritation, now I dislike the name...
My most recent name feels more like me, the distance I need, until I can trust that you'll respect my name...
But really no name seems to fit right now...
So I created this poem out of the experience around my name. In USA culture people obsess over knowing one another's name. I've heard that in other cultures the name isn't given so much weight. I've come to feel protective of my name, like I've begun to use a formal version to say w/new people, then another for those who've earned the trust...and they have to go back to the old one if they breach that trust.
Don't Say My Name
Don't say my name
You don't have permission
I heard a disparaging tone
So stop
My name can only be said
With a loving tone
With kindness
No sarcasm
No irritated inflections
No syllabic EM phasis
That grate the ear
And I'll do the same
Your name is sacred
My name is sacred
Hold it inside with warmth
Release it with love
Or give it back to me
It's mine
Not yours
It's ME
And I'll do the same
Your name is sacred
My name is sacred
Hold it inside with warmth
Release it with love
Or I will take it back
It's mine
Not yours
It's ME
Perhaps it's best we wait
To say my name
To say your name
Just call me
Friend, sister, mom
Or Stranger...
Teacher, Ms., Boss
Or Enemy...
Artist, scientist, Prairie Lioness Heart
Or Monster...
Virtuous, Servant, Honesty
Or Sinister...
...For your name is Sacred
My name is Sacred
Hold it inside with Warmth
Release it, when ready,
With Love
Processing my most recent abandonment
Him
What did he take?
What did he not take?
He took my trust
He took my fidelity
He took my love
He took my heart
He took my youth
He took my opportunity
For a meaningful career
For a healthy marital relationship
To be a stay-at-home mom
To live abroad
To be free of material attachments
To speak Spanish
To learn Spanish
He took my bright colors
Exchanging them for black and grey and brown
He took dance and music and piano
He took the truth
Then fed me lies
Disguised as truth
To always agree in public
That sharing a bed w/his daughter was normal
That insults and anger are part of the package
That parenting without boundaries wasn't spoiling
That everyone else is a bit stupid
That as a therapist, he's best with emotions
And just a little more sane than the rest
That everyone feels attracted to others
That wants are needs and needs
are just wants
He took and he took
He lied and he lied
Saying
This is NORMAL
This IS normal
THIS is normal
He took my heart and ate it up
Then, twenty years later he spit it out
Saying it tasted horrible
What did he take?
What did he not take?
:hug: I get that, entirely. The taking and taking...and then I question myself on how much I gave, and whether his taking was my giving. It can really mess with my head.
But here's what I try to remember to bring back sanity and hope: he couldn't give what he didn't have, because he wasn't whole. And his lack of wholeness, his lack overall, is what led to all of that taking. Because he didn't think he was good enough, he had to find those things outside of the marriage and he had to find fault with me to justify it and make him feel that he wasn't in the wrong.
Until he does the work himself, he won't see that. But now I have the opportunity, the gift, to do my own work and to fill my own holes. And if he hadn't done those things, chances are that I would have stayed stuck there.
So while I'll never thank him for hurting me, I am thankful for this gift of freedom and clarity to improve who I am.
Thank you Sandals. I can tell that you understand my experience. I know what you mean intellectually and I understand on both a mind and spiritual level. But when I see him due to co-parenting it's the emotions that seem to bubble up again. That's why I wrote the poem...
And I know what you mean, I think about my previous life and I'm glad not to be living in denial and a false reality w/friends who weren't appropriate. I realized the regret from my marriage seems to be the biggest hurdle for me. And I want to get over that hurdle but I'm struggling trying to figure out how to do so authentically. I think patience and time and allowing my process, but I feel impatient today...
:hug:
Hoping that in time you can take back anything and everything that you want to have. And it will be better without him.
:hug: It's the freshest wound on top of very old wounds, so it makes sense to me that you would feel that way. I'm just getting to the point where I can see him and not lapse back into those emotions, and it's definitely not consistent. You are taking the time to heal which means working through all those painful emotions instead of ignoring them.
My ex posted a profile on match.com, six months after the split, where he claimed he had been separated for a year right after he said that honesty was his primary quality. It's pretty laughable in hindsight, but certainly didn't feel that way at the time. He also used photos from an anniversary and Christmas that we were together...so obviously he didn't have quite the same association with them that I did. I believe that he's just going through the motions and not even in a relationship with himself, and he'll never truly be in a real relationship with someone else until he can do that. I'm glad I can see that and equally glad that I can tell myself it's not mine to fix.
As you know, it's now about being on the same page from a coparenting perspective. I've been able to bring some of the stuff I'm learning about me to my kids. It's healing for them, too, and he can see that. I know you'll do the same.
Be gentle and kind with yourself, and recognize that the hurt is an echo of things from the past. As you heal little C, you will also start to feel stronger here, but for now it's about compassion and love for yourself, especially when the pain is heavier. Accepting the pain, letting it know it's okay to be there, and giving yourself a strong dose of love after.
:bighug:
These poems are all so Beautiful, so deep, touching and inspirational.
Thank you for writing them on here. :hug: <3
Thank you for your kind responses Sandals, Whobuddy and Annegirl.
I would say that I have taken back some of the things...at my age it's just hard for me sometimes to avoid regret...to have that peace and acceptance. That is so kind to wish all of those things for me and better without him. I will remember that.
I've been trying to find the anger for my ex in order to push past it and move on to forgiveness and understanding. I love writing poetry for some reason. Always have. I like logic and efficiency. On the other side I love art and emotion. Poetry seems to bring all of that together for me.. I'm glad that you find it inspiring Annegirl.
I've had times where I've felt love for my own soul. I want that again and I'm working towards it. It's encouraging to know that will happen and to be reminded to be compassionate with myself. I needed that Sandals.
PTSD
Aha - I get it. I was watching the walking dead and the script described PTSD as when the same grief keeps happening over and over and over again. When the same pain happens over and over and over again. That's it. That's why my divorce sometimes feels like 52 first break ups instead of 52 first dates. Abandoned emotionally over and over and over again. But that's the PTSD pathways in my brain. They were created as a child and re-opened with my divorce.
But now I'm learning to send my thoughts down another path. When I see the trauma path I choose to not walk there, not re-experience the pain. It feels the same. But, that's my brain tricking me. The feeling is not the current experience. They are different. And I must feel and respond to the current experience.
Pain exists. It happens and will happen again. But not the same pain in the same way. Not if I'm conscious and aware.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference"
...Robert Frost
Gratitude
I feel so grateful for all that's led me to this understanding. My dream of Faith last night. Faith that he will visit me. I saw it. I felt it. His desire and intent is real and true. He taught me about the first dates and I realized the parallel to "first" break ups.
I heard the script and understood how they apply to me.
I felt all of the therapy, all of the wisdom from deep inside that led me to understand.
The conversation with my friend and "client" last night about grief.
Tears flow. I feel relief.
It's not over. It can never be entirely over. It's a part of me. But, I can put a gate across the pathway. I can, mostly, control that walk and choose the other path. On sunny days it will be easier. On days with refreshing rains it will be easier. On stormy days the gate might blow open. I might feel myself being blown towards or down that familiar path. But storms pass. They always do. So I can weather them and have Faith too.
my daughter stayed w me for two days over the new year. I think that is the most i have had her around for quite some time. we had a nice talk where i was able to explain that i do not want to speak ill of her father, but that as her mother and in parenting her that could include conversations about him in order to help her. she heard me and did not get defensive like she has in the past. she even said she has been feeling angry w him, something a loooong time coming...i let her know thats ok and normal and sometimes we need anger to get us further down the road of growth and healing. again, she listened...phew!!!!
i miss my BF a lot, but he writes nearly every day via email and tells me he misses me, looks forward to seeing me, thinking of me and will be state side soon.
plus my counselor is completely unavailable for a week
plus my boss seems to think its fine to schedule me all weekend days every week forever, grrr!!!
but in spite of these challenges i feel ok, like bothered, irritated, mildly unhappy, but then the next thought is that it will get better, tomorrow is another day and i just do not have the feelings so BIG. what a relief!!!
hi C - yesterday, I was re-visiting the story of Persephone and I am reminded of this by your use of the pomegranate heart image
I love how you write: many of your posts are full of such rich thoughts and metaphor. I am sure Persephone brought treasures from the underworld, and I hope you do, too.
you wrote: "Pain exists. It happens and will happen again. But not the same pain in the same way. Not if I'm conscious and aware"
yes, when we watch and tune in, we can begin to sense a subtle shift..... and learn to ease fully into the more comfortable places between the pain. I like to invoke those moments of comfort and imagine them expand and dissolve the sheer vastness of those hurting places. keep writing, it's a healing gift.
hugs. Y.
Thank you Yvette. Yes, writing is a great creative outlet for me and you illuminate the meaning well. I love pomegranates on so many levels. They invoke positive childhood memories since we had a tree in our back yard...must represent my inner child. Yet they seem so incredibly grown up, beautiful like a brilliant ruby. Sensual to taste and "pop" in my mouth...and the red representing the heart. Love.
yes, beautiful and rich like a ruby; how wonderful to have a pomegranate tree in your garden. where I live now, we have a fig tree - exotic, to me, as I grew up in uk and I don't recall ever seeing such a thing. figs, of course, are similarly sensual (poem by DH Lawrence, for example)
wishing many more treasures for your inner child..
Grief and closure and grief and closure and grief and closure...
Closure
I felt it this year. That relief that comes w/knowing the ending. That it's done. And faith that the right beginning(s) are just around the corner, or over that hill, but they are there. I cannot see them, or hear them, but I know. And that's enough. Kind conversational ending and touch from Mr. A. Telling him no, never again...you love me but will never commit. That isn't good for me. I'm done. Realization that Ms.B isn't really a friend, and that's ok. Closing the door one final time on the "C last name" family home. Waving good-bye to my elderly cat as she moved from daughter's arms and into her car, headed for a new home of her own. Unpacking every single box from the "C"family life and placing it in the garbage, goodwill, or a permanent storage space.
I cannot write more. It hurts to put it all together. Yet for each ending I was able to move through it like "normal" grief. The sadness, the anger and finally acceptance. It didn't stick to me, or consume me, or send me on a risky avoidant path of self-destruction. Now they are relatively healed scars. Part of me.
But I am no longer just scars. I now see those large places of health throughout my being. Untouched and mine.
I've heard that you can be cured from C-PTSD. I don't believe that anymore. At least not for me. I believe that you can learn to live with your C-PTSD in a general state of contentment. Free of serious symptoms. Yet, I wouldn't trade this illness now for it has gifted me with a sensitivity, compassion, and empathy few others seem to understand. The "recipe"that is ME mixes together this injury with salty tears, sighs of relief, the will to dance when others won't, and an inner-peace that is ME. And I like ME. Sometimes i bug me, irritate me, frustrate me, but under it all....I love ME.
Grief
This week I was surprised to face feelings of grief in moments of positivity. A
supportive conversation w/a friend who I thought had abandoned me. Funds received in a punctual manner from my exH. A profound and empathetic response from my little brother to my reality, the one I never told him about.
Then the clincher. My BF joyfully offering and following through w/tackling my backyard. Weeds, tall grass, a mower, gloves, and . He donned them happily and finished my yard entirely of his own volition and knowing it would help my son since that's his chore. But the experience haunted me. I felt sad. And I couldn't figure out why. Why am I sad? about such a selfless act of service by someone who loves and accepts me. Then memories surfaced in my brain and my heart did that familiar pause, and I wept. I wept b/c no one had ever done something so selfless and kind outside for me, all the while wanting my companionship and assistance. My parents grumbled and growled at the teenager who refused to weed, my exH seldomly finished an outdoor task. He started off gung ho, but his enthusiasm petered off after 20-30 minutes and I was left alone to finish. So this wonderful, beautiful moment was tainted by a history of grief about yard work. I moved through that pain, sadness and anger. I sought out support from a few understanding friends and my therapist. And now? Well, now I am going to buy myself some new work gloves, fill the lawn mower w/gasoline and learn to enjoy yard work again with this loving man I call "boy friend."
I hope I can one day accept the distance I must maintain from my parents and exH in order to be healthy. On the outside they are so smiley, so talkative, so "upbeat." But that isn't what I see or feel. And I hope to one day really see and believe this truth. That for me, they are toxic. A poisonous flower. And it's best to stick to looking every once in a while through a glass, at a distance. That is my form of love, compassion and acceptance for people who unwittingly or willfully injured me. I cannot hate or stay angry. Because fault and blame no longer matter to me. They simply do not seem to be a part my nature from my experience. And if I never look I may find myself on the self-destructive path of avoidance. So sometimes I can look and touch for a moment, but I must know when and how, b/c otherwise it becomes deadly to a parts of me I now hold so dear. My heart. My soul. My thoughts. My truth. My feel
Lingering grief or guilt?
But, if I am honest with myself I know that I still feel some guilt at my need for distance. They want me. I will always be their daughter, the ExW who he thinks could one day fe a "friend" and I somehow feel that biological need to please, to "appreciate." I wish they could understand that I do appreciate and accept. But for my own reasons of Faith and of Love. And always, always, from a distance.
Grief and Closure
So, perhaps, closure and grief never end. And that's ok w/me now. At least for today.
Favorite quote about a story, any story, my story
A beginning, a middle, and a twist...(RL Stine)
Zombies
I dreamed about zombies last night. Or more like this morning. And every time I woke up scared and went to sleep again, assuming the dream would change. But it didn't change, I was scared and running, trying to connect w/a "safe" group. The younger people seemed safer.
When I work up the metaphor hit hard. Abandonment. Zombies are people who you loved who abandon you. People who loved, or who you thought loved, you. But is it abandonment? Because they come back. But they come back intent on harming you. They want to eat you alive.
Zombies. CPTSD means I have been surrounded by zombies. Dead people who want to consume me. And the only hope for survival is to flee. Or to kill.
And once free it can be confusing. Because zombies at first look like real people. So sometimes I think a person is a person, but it's a zombie. And sometimes I think a zombie is a zombie, but it's a person.
So I, and many around me, stay fascinated w/zombies. They tell our backstory. The dramatic monster that represents trauma. And the resilience needed to first survive, and next thrive, in a world full of zombies.
This struck a chord with me! Thanks C
I am glad to hear it struck a chord for you. A reason to not keep my "journal" private, but share. At least the themed entries.
Ambition
Hellllloooooo....
Where are you?
Where did you go?
I know that you were here the other day
Well, a few years ago
I remember when your power
Pushed me forward
Inspired towards that
Goal
What goal?
Some goal...
To get There
Where?
You know, there...
But, now
You hide
Under a rock
Out of sight
What can I do?
How do I push forward?
Without You
Dear My New Ambition,
Welcome home Ambition. I wasn't expecting you. You see, I thought that you'd packed your bags and left for good. And I thought that was ok w/me because you had always dressed to impress others. And w/my divorce you seemed an unwelcome guest who only complicated my life.
But the other day you visited. I felt your familiar presence yet it wasn't so unpleasant. Perhaps you've changed. Is your intent different? Are you really interested in ME? I felt you remind me of the professional power I hold within. A capacity to contribute. Perhaps in ways I've not yet explored.
So I have accepted your nearness and as long as you behave, and you have MY best interests at heart, you may visit and reside. Show me your new self bit by bit and I will get to know you.
Of course you know me and my desire to know the end at the beginning. What does this relationship mean? Yet I will do my best to quiet those anxious questions and simply us be together. I look forward to getting to know the new you.
Sincerely,
My New ME
During my therapy this week I heard words that brought healing tear to my eyes. A deep and profound understanding.
I heard "healing yourself also contributes to a Greater Good." I realized that all of this healing in real life truly impacts others in a positive way too. I'd recently made some choices to allow the "real" me to be present at work. Then I saw that it helped others. All along I've been thinking of my healing as independent, alone, self-focused. And although I understood it to be necessary a part of me wished to be a part again of some bigger and greater than myself. So I've added a new mantra to my thoughts that I really love...
"healing myself also helps the Greater Good"