Saturday, December 27, 2014

Broken Open

I'm not who you really think I am.

I mean, I'm not a 78 year old dude with a laptop, sitting in his basement blogging while surrounded by fishtanks filled with human flesh or anything all "ID TV" like that, but I'm not the person I purport to be online.*

*Except for using 50 cent words like 'purport'.  I totally do that shit in real life.

Jen e Sais Quoi is the part of me that lives inside.  She is the outspoken, politically incorrect, balls-to-the-wall warrior princess who says what she means and means what she says.  But in reality?  The truth?  I cower.  I cringe.  I apologize for breathing and have made it my life's work to anesthetize my emotions with alcohol and whittle my body into nothingness through eating disorders in a frenzied attempt to take up less space in the world.

In reality. . .I rarely speak up for myself.

In reality. . .I am obsessive compulsive and require absolute order and control.

In reality. . .I isolate myself because I know; I just KNOW that everyone will abandon me anyway.

In reality. . .my anger, my sadness, and my pain horrifies me so I push it down; way, way down into the deepest part of me because  if anyone knew the real me they'd hate me.

In reality. . .I'm afraid.  Afraid to love.  Afraid to trust.  Afraid of everything.

Two weeks ago, the years of pain, the years of confusion and self-doubt, the years of never believing that I was good enough, smart enough, funny enough, thin enough, perfect enough, that I was ever fucking ENOUGH came to a head and something inside of me just snapped.

I broke.  And, unfortunately, when you drop a glass and it shatters, it doesn't just destroy the glass; it embeds shards into the flesh of everyone around it.  So, my healing doesn't just effect me; my whole family is in the process of healing; and what that will resemble when all is said and done, I don't know.

Pain is funny.  It seeps slowly into your soul over the years, filling up the empty spaces like sand slowly slithering into a jar of pebbles.  And eventually you realize that trying to shake the sand out of the jar will only disrupt the pebbles and chip the container and that all you can do; all you can REALLY do is just smash the jar to pieces and let the sand flow out where it will.

Last week was a true watershed moment in my life.  I felt I'd disappointed everyone, destroyed my marriage, and ruined relationships with my family.  And maybe I have.  I can't predict the future.  All I know is now.  All I have is now.  Right now, I am happy and content.  Right now, I'm texting with my husband who fully supports me in my recovery and still wishes to be a part of my life.  Right now my children and my family are safe and well.  Right now, I am healing.

A woman told me last night "Lovey, God didn't break you down.  He broke you open so all of His goodness and mercy could flood into your heart".  And that's what it is: a breaking OPEN.

I'll be keeping you updated over the weeks as I continue on this journey, but my posts will likely be about as lengthy and articulate as this one for two reasons:

(1) I'm working on a book right now.  About what got me here, the journey toward healing, my road back home, and

(2)  Honestly?  It's hard to write about your life when you feel like you've just been reborn.

In the interim, I ask for your forgiveness if I somehow led you astray with my bravado.  Jen e Sais Quoi is there. . .she's inside of me. . .and I'm slowly learning how to give her a voice through me.  What I've learned this week is that we all have a Jen e Sais Quoi inside of us; a warrior princess screaming to be heard.  Let yours shout her glory from the rooftops.  We are so much more than we give ourselves credit for.

We are all more than mere mortals.  We are spiritual beings having a human experience.

Experience life.  Make your inner voice be heard.  Face the pain and the fear that limits and stifles you and drive it from your heart because you are a glorious and miraculous being who is deserving of greatness.

Be kind to yourselves.  You're worth it.


Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Ho-Ho-Holy Shit. . .

I'm here.

Kind of.

No, I am. . .I'm here.

For a long time I was blogging thrice a week,*

*Yes, I realize that using the word 'thrice' makes me sound like a giant bag of douche,  but I intend to get as much mileage out of my Liberal Arts degree as possible.  After all, it took me five and a half years of my life to get it. . .don't judge.

Then, not so thrice-y.  Then I was blogging with as much frequency as an AM radio in Ketchikan, Alaska. Which is to say: not so much.

A lot has been going on.  And by "a lot", I mean "shit got real".

I am still married; Norm is rad as hell and without a doubt the best friend I've ever had in my whole life.  The (not so) short people are growing and thriving.  Life is was is perfect.

And then, it wasn't.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when things fell apart; and even harder to figure out why.  Suffice to say, after twenty years of racing frantically on a mental and emotional treadmill and repressing some pretty epic LifeTime-Movie-Of-The-Week-PTSD-Inducing angst I just. . .snapped.

And now. . .I'm here.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be revealing more of the story; as I slowly begin to heal and as I gain some clarity.  Because, seriously?  Right now things in my head are still a steaming bouillabaisse of crazy.  

So. . .I guess. . .I guess I'm just swinging by to say "hi".  To let you know that I've missed you. . .*

*I know we haven't met, but I still miss you.  Is that weird?  That sounded weird, didn't it?  Did this just get creepy?

. . .to let you know that (in the immortal words of the great poet, Richard Pryor), "I ain't dead yet".  And to say, Merry Christmas.  

Be well.  Love each other.  And please, don't take yourselves too damned seriously.

Life is to short, and you're too pretty for that.