Not Perfect

After years of counseling due to marriage issues, personal issues and realizing childhood issues, I realized it is just called LIFE. We all have it, in some form or another.

Just a bit ago, I was going through some emails of which I am behind in either reading or deleting and had to smile because I am so far behind on many things right now. Before that would have stressed me to the max and while I feel it somewhat, it is not keeping me up at night. My have things have changed. Even other insignificant things whether at work or home, if I do not do it perfectly, it is okay. While it is not 110% in my book, it is still 99.9% so I shrug my shoulders and move on.

01786893-AB4E-450A-84BB-197253DDC4EDRealizing childhood emotional abuse can cause children to try and be perfect just to get noticed or praised and not to forget to feel and be loved, they will go over and above to gain those things. I did as I needed all those things. Even up into adulthood.

I want my boss to know I have his back and will make him look good, a lot at my expense while working late and making that report look great, etc. Odds are, nobody is 00F8C389-8885-49B6-9146-0D8223FFDFF3going to measure the margins, etc. I would. That’s how detailed I have been in life with such for one instance.

Having a task for another boss years ago, I worked tirelessly on this to make the ending of this study lesson perfect. To realize later, another co-worker, I am sure at the boss’s request added an appreciation to me at the end of all the work put into this endeavor. It threw off everything and I was livid. Now my work was off and now my name is posted. Those words of appreciation were never felt, as it was not perfect anymore. I was no longer perfect and now everyone saw that. Panic.

Since recognizing the whys in my life and understanding what makes me push for that so desired love, it has taken pressure off of me. It has been a good thing. I am thankful I had a counselor to help me understand this in me. While I still give my best, it does not need to be perfect, enough to make me lose sleep or cause me stress. The other day, I read a blog recently written and a word was wrong, should be taking and not talking, it is still there. When I find myself in this mode of perfection and needs to be done now, etc., I stop and recognize what is happening. It has been a lifetime of performing this way to be somebody.

News flash! I am somebody. You are somebody.

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Those we live with, work with, associate with are all important but so are you, me and each of us. You do your best and let the Lord promote you, accept His Love and He will always have your back. He is all that matters anyway.

629128EB-F7ED-466C-9B82-279E002D9903I tend to shrug my shoulders a lot more in life as a reminder I do not need to be perfect.

Do your best and move on.

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I Am Worthy

I Am Worthy!12BE7E16-A8D2-49AE-8B6F-B93188D0496F   You Are Worthy!

It has taken me years to get that in my thick skull to understand and feel I am worthy. I am sure I have wrote about this before, at some point.

At times regretting it took so long to get here but on the other hand, a relief that I am finally here. I am ME. The Lord knew me before I was even born, He had plans for me and what I was to face in life, never leaving me but loving me, just as I am.

25C9C74C-4032-4844-912D-F00358AAFA33So many times, I looked to others for my worth waiting for a compliment or to know they cared in some, small way or the hugs I craved. When received, my hope and worth in life became alive and joyful. Somebody cares for me. Sadly, short lived. The memories of that moment of high feeling that may last for days, comes down to trying to conjure up the memory or that same, sweet feeling and hearing words said directly to me. While I can remember, it is not the same. Sadness overcomes my soul for I need another fix. Somebody please tell me you care for me, hug me please as my mind is screaming, pat my arm so I can feel that touch again and burn it in my memory, I am desperate for connection.

I would never share those thoughts or words with anyone, always knowing I was desiring and screaming on the inside. In hopes one day, I would be loved by somebody and find my worth.

Thankfully, I had a counselor that heard the cries within and speaking of them with her, I no longer had to carry them alone. The Lord truly knew my heartache and allowed her to intervene. To share them brought embarrassment and shame but brought healing each time.

0917CC9A-78AD-4BC9-9154-22ED5C8E3B30The cage I was in of desperately wanting love and worth of others can only come from the Lord.  Releasing others from their attention and love that I required and hungered for only comes in small doses but receiving at times sometimes unexpectedly is so much sweeter.

I know without a doubt that joy, my sense of love, feeling special and worthiness is all from the Lord.554B51EB-EC85-4756-89E0-6041796A6FB7

When I don’t feel and know that within, my attention has wavered to people, not God. I always knew that deep down, but I thought it was easier to get and receive from those I can see and touch.

His Love is forever and ever.  It is where my love is focused upon that determines the outcome.

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Catch a Blowing Kiss 💋

13729142-69e8-4743-9feb-2efad95e868e-12389-00000b92ef91368dBlow me a kiss and I will grab it.  Mine to cherish, remember and treasure.

Many of you reading may not understand why a kiss blown is so special to me; but for those who did not receive openly, expressed love growing up, it is a moment etched in the brain of the receiver.  A gift.  7B94430B-9382-470E-B3E0-C8DA6D2D98F5

Today, I just so happened to see someone that is special to me and I have missed. While only passing in the car and the kiss she blew to me, it meant so much.  To know she was happy to see me in passing and cared enough to do that, my heart felt full. 💕

Many friends and families throw around the words ‘I Love You’ and kisses on the cheek given so quickly and freely, although love through it all, too, I find it to be just because that is what you do.  Meaningful feelings sometimes I feel are overlooked, just expected. I do not know really because I never had that so when it does happen, a sincere tight hug or like today, a kiss blown toward me showing they cared, touches my heart deeply.

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It is when and I know so well, the quiet, lonely times of feeling desolate from friends and family and that nobody cares.   Thankfully, faith arises knowing the Lord loves me and is always there for me.  I have to depend upon Him to love me and I have to accept His Love, then peace comes.

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Another Dead Box?

7A0A61F6-70A2-4336-B5CD-7C83579C9A26While I am not a hoarder, I do keep things; each matter in their own box, somewhat organized and stored in the eaves of my attic.

Through the years of dealing with the estates of my parents and brother, they each have their own box of what I wanted and needed to keep after their passing.  Sadly, this is all that is left of their life, a dead box of memories, keepsakes and possessions.  There is guilt that comes of that but you cannot keep everything, you have to let go.  I had to.

I tend to keep my notes, journals, calendars, etc., and have since a child, never knowing why I held onto them. They have proved to come in handy and really do not take up much room, just a few storage boxes, of my own life.

With mine, I had to dig deep within them this last bout with my counselor, back to my childhood.  With that, I learned a lot of what I had lacked as a child and how it has and is affecting me today.  Sometimes, I thought it would be easier to keep my head in the sand just knowing something was not right than poking at it, which we did, but deep down I wanted to understand me.

Putting names with areas of emotional distress (attachment, abandonment, trauma, shame, childhood emotional neglect, just to name a few) opens up areas I never knew before.  They are all real and felt.

As my counseling ended recently, there is an overwhelming feeling of many of those emotions being triggered.  To the point of wanting to run and put my head in the sand.  Perhaps like a test.

B2A81AF4-884E-42BC-AC09-C84360FA0F85Realizing before, I felt this way or that way but to now understand, have a name for what I am experiencing or feeling, I am thinking it has been harder.  I am aware and the intensity of the pain has been quite disturbing at times.  As I was exhibiting this or that and to my dismay, I recognized what was happening.  It’s a new way for me, to recognize, express, name and grasp to hopefully heal in these areas.

So through the pain, just the feeling of the abandonment being more intense, I could grasp that is what it was.  It was safe for me to cry and to give myself time to grieve and I will for awhile.  I can say, too, that I am angry with the way it ended, as I feel it could have been handled differently, basically more respectful, especially her knowing me.  That’s rough to say but truth.  Now leaving me with several questions that may never have answers.  Feeling all of these emotions, naming them is good but not easy.  It’s normal to grieve a relationship lost.

As much as this situation hurt, I feel I am coming through it easier just knowing and realizing what is happening, how it is affecting me and what I am doing.  Being mindful.  Tears come and they are also normal.

536CF7B6-D31E-4899-8895-5AAB8B9390F1While I have a storage box full from our years of counseling of notes, etc., it sits untouched right now but still in my sight, not stored.  There was too much invested in my life through her.  Some but not all healing in me is complete to put this box aside and ignore.  I know in time, I will and can still go through the many notes, copies of research done, open up and remember our sessions and still grasp many golden nuggets to continue for growth and healing.

F5B28577-7295-4887-B8A9-1575BBD83E09Maybe I need to name this box a Treasure Chest instead of another dead box because of the time spent in the many hours of counseling over four years. Even through the pain now, I’m thankful and feel blessed to have had her in my life. Everything within that box has brought me to where I am today and I believe it was orchestrated by God.

Walls Up, Walls Down

Which is it?

There were many discussions through the past four years of discussing my life with my recent counselor of having my walls up.  For what I dealt with in life, rightfully so.  Was it right for each person in my life?  No.  Why take a chance until trust is built and still no guarantee hurt won’t come again.

9C514E57-818D-418E-80A8-7C1F2F882E9FAs we discussed the walls, I recognized I did just that.  Odds are, if everyone was honest, walls are present in many if not all lives.  How could there not be?  Life dishes out crap at times in situations and words said to us.  It hurts.

35EB0068-1190-434F-AAFE-6FC114CD6268Then, there are others that will talk about having your walls up as a good thing.  Talk about confusion.  Between my real-life conversation (walls down) and then hearing this (walls up), I could understand them both.  With that, I felt I had dyslexia, unsure which is right.

Depending upon the situation, they both are.

In my years as a client, we discussed a lot and this counselor knows some deep, soul wrenching parts of me that only God knows.  My walls were down.  I needed and also wanted help to understand me and she had the knowledge and expertise to do so.  I trusted her, I had to. Would I do it again?  Yes.  Probably now, moreso; wish I had more time with her. Now that our time is over, I did feel anger for doing so but if it had not been, I would not be where I am today.  Today, I am grateful.  Walls down.  God is doing a work within me.

Walking with a new friend recently, she probed into my life a little more than I liked of my marriage and depression from it.  Pretty bold of her, I thought. Using my words carefully, I gave her enough to calm the curiousity within her.  I was not comfortable in that situation and there will be a wall and general conversation from this point forward.  Walls up.

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Even last night with several of the church ladies for a small group, I knew of them only in passing.  This class is for healing of hurts and abuses. While I know what is said there, stays there, I could not be transparent.  My walls were up and I knew it, although I could encourage them and recognize their pain.

This past week has been an emotional roller coaster for me, and I had to question my walls.  I recognized and felt when they were up.  Right or wrong, they were there.  While they can protect, they can hinder.  Just knowing the difference.

No matter if my walls are up, down. half way or sometimes made of steel, the Lord knows my heart.  He knows my every emotion and fear that entangles my life of being hurt yet once again.

I owe no one fullness of me, unless I choose.  We have that choice. Like me or not, I may not you or trust.  God has given us discernment and we have a right to use it.

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Change on a Dime

Funny how things can change on a dime, as they say.  This day was going so well.  The sun was shining, my list of things to do being crossed off and everything was lining up and running like clockwork.  I was happy and ready to have some fun with a few days off work.

In a few short hours, it was the day I dreaded.  Driving over the back roads with my sister to go to dinner and a movie, I pass my counselor’s office who has been on medical leave.  Her signage has been removed and my heart just drops.

63B8434B-7309-49F6-913D-9DEEB59C1111I knew one day that this was a possibility but never hoping it would.  I had to pick up a prescription on our way and in just that short distance, the emotions within me could not be contained. Basically, a death has occurred in my life.  Flip flop from sadness to anger and back again.

Grief is such a pain, whether for the dead or the living, it sucks.  No movie, no dinner, no interest anymore. Done.

So many questions, so many loose ends but…177F9360-1487-40FC-A06B-EC6F46CC93A8

Am I Right to Write?

34961F5B-2FF8-4A57-82A1-C06BD85311C0Still, after all of these weeks and months, I struggle in the area of grief missing my counselor in my life due to her medical leave of absence.  After four years of almost weekly or bi-weekly sessions, my routine has been distrupted.  Today, being Monday, I am still caught in the mix of missing my set appointment this afternoon and our fifty minutes or sometimes more of discussion.  I miss talking to her.
While seeing another counselor about my counselor and the abandonment felt, I know he is only temporary and I can deal with that.  The connection is not there although he is a joy to talk to.  The last session with him, we discussed the availability I have to contact her of which I do but I am always so hesitant.  I get so close to writing and then I delete my message, each and every time.  Today included.
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There is a risk of being hurt.  Not that she would be rude to me because I was told to keep her informed but my normal excuse is not to bother her.  Typical of childhood emotional neglect from what I have read.  I never want to bother anybody.  Even my temporary counselor, he gave me his private cell number but I told him that I will hold onto but will never use it and bother him.  I won’t.
It’s one of those moments of thinking and doing.  If I write, it shows I care and will brighten her day perhaps or if I write, it may be a bother and not be good.  Right or wrong thought pattern, I don’t know, as I go back and forth.  Who doesn’t like to know they are being thought of, right?  It comes down to fear, yet again in me.  E5461E46-3B27-4E72-9142-058106A065C9
Sometimes, I think about letting her know of my blog and she can read for herself of my walk through this torment of loneliness, attachment issues and abandonment felt.  I have no doubt that she knows I am dealing with all of this as she is a pretty smart cookie.  She knew me better than I knew myself in all of these years together, which is somewhat scary in itself.  Still, I hope that progress would be visible in my writing.  Hey, I haven’t cried today yet thinking about things or writing this.  Some days, that is a huge accomplishment, especially in the beginning.  Still, tears will fall.  A part of my life is gone.  Will it return and will it ever be the same?  Probably not.
Taking the risk always causes me to freeze in fear so my conclusion and questions within is always, am I right to write or not and can I handle the outcome?  Today, I still don’t know so I will continue on, as is.
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