Belonging

As I thumb through my 2017/2018 journals (yup, plural) a theme presented its self. I was searching for something to belong to. I was looking for anything that would take away the loneliness. You know “fill my cup”. The journal entries read as stories of my failed attempts to find a person, place, or thing that invoked feelings of worthiness. Screaming at me from these pages is my life long struggle. A struggle I want to move past. I finally see that I crave a belonging filled with purpose, a belonging to my self worth, a belonging to my choices. Rereading my words brought fear and shame, it made my heart heavy like the lead vest at the dentist office. So many rushed, confused choices made out of what was reading as desperation. (Ugg, truth can be so ugly). Not what I ever intended for myself.

I set aside my “ah ha” moment because I need to digest my findings. I need to shift my way of thinking. I have some really big work todo on myself.

In a Starbucks on on a Weekday morning I ran into a friend… Their recent life situation was painfully familiar to me. I got misty just thinking of the emotional torture that we were discussing. “How are you doing” promoted a candid snap shot of the loneliness my sweet friend was feeling. A loneliness that has burned my cookies for years. A loneliness I wouldn’t wish on any good intentioned person, ever. There we were bonding and belonging over a shared loneliness. My ah ha moment just kicked me in my soul.

OK universe, thank you for the push. Now it’s time to get to work:)

You Will Always Have Love

I was 28 when a women next to me at a bar turned abruptly to me and said “You’ll birth a baby girl”.

“Who me?” Little did she know that wasn’t medically possible for me.

“I’m a bit drunk and I’m a medium. There is this nagging something that wants you to know you’ll birth a baby girl”.

I thanked her, I smiled and walked away with my delicious drink. I remember thinking she should slow down she’s had way to much of the good stuff.

I was 35 when the ultrasound tech announced I was having a girl.

Really…

How in Gods name did you get that info from all that fuzzy stuff on that tiny screen and holy hell that lady was right!

Instantly the conversation with the drunk lady in that bar played in my head like a movie.

How did she know!!!!!!

I was rocked to my core. Plenty of drunk strangers have said weird things to me… this one was different. This lady was right.

Last year I came across a lovely women while looking for insight and answers into a long drawn out battle with myself, stay in my marriage or leave.

I had exhausted self help books, therapist, support groups, a local pastor, and all sorts of other traditional “please help me get right with my life” stuff that I could come up with.

Kim was a breath of fresh air. She is a spiritual advisor, she has the ability to channel different energies that show her information. Skeptical right, I know I was, but I was open to anything at this point. The universe literally put her in front of me at a friends house. I won’t go into a ton of detail, but know this, she knew nothing about me. I had never met her. She spent less than 5 min. talking with me before she started her reading with me.

The first thing she said is your first child is always with you. What!!!!! How could she have known I had a miscarriage. Parlor trick?

The second thing she referenced was the “how I found out I was having a girl” situation.

Wait what? I sat still and silent as she tried to explain what the energy/spirt was showing her. “A blonde in a bar who knew before you did? Does that sound right?” She said. My mouth dropped…. there is no way she could come up with that!!!!

I have never included the color of the women’s hair when I retell that story.

Kim, I have got some questions for you!!!

I met with Kim 3 times over the last year. She is lovely. Soft spoken and unobtrusive.

At the end of our last session together she said “they want you to know, no matter what, you will always have love. You will always love and be loved. You won’t be alone”.

It wasn’t till she said it that I was aware of how scared I really was of losing one of the greatest loves I’ve known. Even though it had gone south. I was scared I’d never love again. It was in her words I found the peace and strength to remember “better to have loved and felt loss than never to have loved at all.” With Kim’s final words that day she completed a puzzle that had tore me up for years, stay or leave. Leave because I love myself, leave because I love Hadley, leave because I love him, leave because we all deserve a life less tortured. Leave because we all deserve to be loved in a way that brings us joy.

I’m thankful to have known love and be afraid to lose that love.

Imagine never knowing love… I just can’t.

I believe we’d be lost without love.

I’m driven by my love and am hopefull I’ll find it again.

Terrified

When I’m in the thick of my personal tragedy it is hard to see a future with out the looming repercussions of said tragedy.
I’ve spent many hours filling my head with banter, talking myself into or out of what ever bull crap that was slapping me in the face at the time. Telling myself to just keep going, things will get better. They usually always have gotten better.

These last 3 years wore me down, wore me out, and burned me out. Any love I had for humanity I started to question. Chewed up and spit out seems dramatic, but that’s how It felt.
Last year I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. I had become my tragedy. Whatttt!!!!! I was terrified and slightly horrified.
I actually hated myself, disgusted that I’d let it take me over. That I had lost the ability to process it and move thru it. I’d been working so hard with my therapist how could this be?! Well you weren’t working on you Ange, you were working on your addict/ alcoholic. Mother of God!!!! (shaking fist at the sky) No one to blame but me.
I lost sight of my foundation, the place I come back to when I’m knocked off my game. Why?

I realized it I hadn’t nurtured or cared for my core foundation. I hadn’t done the work to keep myself standing in my values as I grew and aged. Result… one big tragic storm came along and knocked me on my ass. Holy hell.

Emerging from this tragedy I actually like myself. I’m comfortable again in my skin. The work I’m doing to care for myself and Hadley has me at peace. My heart is open, my head is clear and my foundation strong again.

I will forever be great full that the people I hold in my heart who watched this ugly process and we’re nothing, but kind, understanding, and most of all loving.
With my newly built, intact foundation I’m ready to help carry the weight of our lives again. It’s nice to be back:)

I’ve been Living In An Addicts World

I’ve done the work, I continue todo the work, I have a great therapist. This post is about my moments of clarity. If you are reading this and connecting with me, I am with you. If you are wondering what’s wrong with me, you and I are in different places, and that’s ok. 

There are moments that I have as a loved one of an addict that linger and haunt me. Full disclosure, there are so many I’ve lost track. The particular one that stands out for me, the one where the downward spiral ended, was when I realized I was working harder for his sobriety than he was.

My ability to read a situation and problem solve was not an attribute rather an achilles heal. To say those things out loud, to acknowledge I could not veer him from his path, was devastating. A switch was flipped. I no longer felt responsible for him, his actions, his excuses. A wieght lifted. (Insert audible sigh) “I’m going to be in charge of myself and my kiddo that’s it.” became my mantra. If all that wasn’t  hard enough to swallow I had an “ah ha” moment that kicked me where it hurts. I’m part of the problem not the solution.

Sweet Mary and Joseph!!! “I’m part of the problem”. At this point I wasn’t sure which way was up.

If you have your very own addict you know my struggle. If you are knew to the world of addiction buckle your seat belt. Addiction slowly sneaks into our lives. It quietly twist things around. It invokes fear and sadness, delivering confusion and angry. Then when it feels like you can’t take any more the family implodes and the real tragedy begins. 

The break down of love and compassion. All the life we’ve lived, the life that made us us, criticized and ridiculed. We tourtured each other emotionally, placed blame. We pulled apart and strangled all that was sacred to us. The things we said, the nasty way we spoke to each other… I wouldn’t change a thing.

All that has happened has brought me to a place of understanding that I never would have gotten to if it wasn’t for the long drawn out process of getting myself to this place of self awareness.

My husband came home from rehab. (lost count of how many times he’s gone). He left broken, he came home a different kind of broken. He’s was angry and lost and willing to give it all up as long as he didn’t have to work at sobriety. Didn’t have to face the self hate he carried.

What happened next… I never saw it coming and I really had thought I’d seen it all.