How is it already halfway through 2014?

I have missed being here on my blog, writing and interacting with the community of fellow bloggers who have been such a support and encouragement of me for the past two and a half years.

Here’s the sitch: A little over a month ago the cable/internet and television, along with the king sized bed and a couch moved out of my apartment. So, without a wifi/internet connection inside of my apartment, I’ve been primarily limited to using the little iPhone 4s screen to connect with the interwebs and the larger world that exists. At the same time, there’s an infant and her family occupying the large bedroom while my Princess Tomboy alternates between using her little bedroom when she’s with me and the other “adopted” extended family member, a young friend of my daughter and her boyfriend. I “sleep” on the remaining piece of adult sized furniture in the apartment, the sofa/couch – depending on which part of the world you live in. Consequently, sleep and I have become even less well acquainted than ever before . . . well not ever, after all I have parented three infants of my own over the course of the past 28 years.

What all of this means is that tired, bleary, blurry eyes, and poor body mechanics have increased the difficulty of writing blog posts using the WordPress app. Additionally, without the internet or television to distract me – oh how do I miss them – I’m actually faced with being present in my circumstances, symptoms, and daily life as I navigate what life without being in an “intimate” relationship with Keith looks like, while figuring out parenting schedules and finances, in the midst of continuing to work through the recovery and process of figuring out how to live within the context of Bipolar II and PTSD, now that I have actual diagnoses and not just what I’ve suspected and self-identified.

Oh yeah, and then there’s the whole being a new grandma thing! Loving the little Moonchild, but seriously, I had somehow believed that my days of showing and getting into clean clothes only to be urped on were in the not so distant past. Silly me.

I’m turning 45 in a week and if I count helping to care for my cousin when I was 14, I’ve been responsible, to one degree or another, for the care and well-being of people 0 – 18 for 31 of those 45 years. Considering I didn’t even know how to be responsible for my own care and well-being for the majority of that time, it’s truly a miracle any of us are alive to tell the tales!

Which brings me to the current update on the reconciliation dance between me and Marco, my son. Suffice it to say, I’m being called as part of my spiritual, mental, and emotional healing journeys to do the very hard thing of putting myself into the context of his faith community on a weekly basis, starting last week. It was brutal, for both of us. We both have a crap ton of wounded brokenness from our individual childhood and adolescent years, PLUS our relationship with each other, mixed in with the life experiences we’ve both gone through as adults. It’s a big, hot, soupy, mess. However, it is becoming undeniably evident that in order for either of us to continue to move into our futures while living in the present, we need to face and resolve the pieces of our pasts where some of our deepest wounds come from.

It is terrifying and excrutiating to look into his eyes and see the depth and breadth of pain in his heart, mind, and soul. It hurts because no mother wants to see that kind of pain in her child’s eyes. Amplifying that is the understanding that his experiences with me as his mother laid the foundation for significant portions of that hurt. Attached to that is the child/girl/young woman in me who experienced similar wounds with no one to look at and work through them with.

The guilt and shame I once held onto and wore like a cowl and robe are mostly gone, although their remnants still linger in the PTSD and depression, trying to assert themselves. I’m learning to forgive myself and trust that God is walking with us, carrying us, and working us through our separate healing and recovery journeys. At least I do my best in the moment to act on that knowledge/belief.

Standing my ground and doing the hard thing, even when it’s the most terrifying thing I think I’ve ever done, is something I’m learning to do. It’s taken a while, but I think I’m finally “getting” that in order to move into who I am intended to be, I have to face the fears and hurts of who I have been . . . and I have to do it while acting on the things I want to experience and manifest in my life: healed and reconciled relationships, parenting Princess Tomboy for her needs and strengths, and supporting my Delightful One, the Mermaid Mommy of Moonchild, to navigate the experience of motherhood.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” That’s the this about all of that.

Until next time, be blessed, prayers appreciated.


One comment

  1. Sorry I’ve been away. But I’m glad to hear that you’re letting go of guilt, the most useless of all human emotions. Remorse for bad actions is different, because it can lead you to making changes; guilt just makes people feel bad. I know you’ll keep digging, even though it hurts, because getting through all that stuff will lead you to a better life. ((Hugs))


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