That with my faults and failings, I am still okay. 

If I don’t move out of this place and stop receiving the “you’re broken” message, there will come a day in the future that I will drive off a bridge, convinced that the anger, blame, rejection and abandonment is my fault.  That the simplest request, like looking at me when I talk, is too needy and a sign that I am broken. 

My children do not hate me.  I had to write that down, to see it in black and white to take away the power of those ugly words ” your daughter hates you–” said to hurt and control me.

It’s going to take more than I have right now to undo the tangle of wadded up emotions and co-dependence.  But I can start by saying–and believing–that it’s not too much to ask for someone to look at me when I talk. 

and every woman who is learning to fly

That’s what my life feels like right now–it’s making time and I am just trying to hang on until touch down.

 In January, I began volunteer training for CASA–and everything has changed for me.  My education goals, my spiritual goals, how I see myself, how I think God sees me.  Everything I have learned about Him, and recovery, and healing has come together for one purpose in my life.  Hanging on to that in spite of my own weaknesses is the challenge.

 One of my most destructive traits in not asking for help.  So I am knocking down that idol right now–help me!  There are “medically fragile” children who are in foster care; those who have 37 broken bones from a beating; those who are terminally ill who have no family–these are the children I am working with.  Did I say I need help?  Help me help them by praying for us.

“…it’s not like I was ready to jump off a bridge; just trying to process/recover from…well, whatever is was, it wasn’t good.  This emotional tug-of-war has got to end.  This weekend was the breaking point for me.  My psyche knew it before my head did-knew that this is not what I want or what I need.  All of the aloneness of the past 40+ years smothered me and as the insecure/scared/ alone person started crying and the strong/okay person showed up at the same time==panic!!!  One last clash of self-defeating games, the tapes, the masks–and a final, silent separation. 

I’m not perfect, but I know what I want and what I need. 

And it’s time to move on.  It’s time to adjust my expectations according to my strengths, not my weaknesses, and be in that place of peace.

Because it is okay to get what I want.

It is okay for me to ask for and get what I need.

It is okay for me to be here.

It is okay for me to receive money.

It is okay to get paid for using my talents.

And I can have it all–peace, dreams, money, friends, joy, healing–

because I believe. I believe in…Jehovah, Breath of Life. 

This God, this Jehovah, BREATH OF LIFE, loves me.  LOVES.  ME.”

I’ve been admiring that sunset all of my life.  Now I get to BE the sunset.

I am attracted to strong personalities like a moth to a flame.  I want to be them, I want them to shine that light on me and make me feel like I matter.  And then comes the day (or year) that I realize how unbalanced this relationship is.  My job is to soothe and be encouraged and get fixed.  Their job is to tell me how to be fixed. Sure, there is some give and take, a little here and there, but if I don’t get back in the box, the relationship crumbles.  If I stand my ground an refuse to get back in the box, it’s over. 

For the first time, I have been able to maintain a boundary without anger or as a mode of retaliation.  It’s been so hard, so guilt-inducing, so many tears-but so necessary.  And it’s left a big hole that hasn’t been filled–once again, the people I found myself talking with are the strongest personalities in the room. 

So, if I disappear for awhile, it may be because I’m feeling way too much affection for you ladies and that scares the whey out of me. 

Wash My Hands

Written by M. Brooks, L. Dvoskin, S. Peiken

Wash my hands, of crimes

Pour the water over,

my skin, my spine

Cleanse my soul and ease my mind

I’ve been fixed on all the damage done

Why do I always forget how far I’ve come

I’m done dying for the past

I’m done dyin’ for the past

Say all’s forgiven now

Let’s call it even, shall we

Can’t you judge me for my love

and not mistakes

I’ve made

I swear by who I am and not by yesterday

In between black and white

I disappear

Circle round the stone

until I landed here.

Thanks to Robin Dodd 

Blue Willow Photography