I’m obviously in a particularly unique period of my life.
It’s so unique that nothing really seems unique to me anymore.
It’s like, Dana’s death + Mikey’s gas lighting + the divorce + the move +solid entrance to bona-find single-momdom = this feeling of, Holy. Cow.
Life is just big and weird and extreme and pushing me past boundaries that were already past boundaries and now I look at that woman who is struggling to open the door while pushing a cart and I’m like, hey. The struggle is real.
It’s like all worries and struggles coalesce to form a single malleable ball of some weird substance that sticks to everything and unites it for me.
That probably doesn’t make any sense for most of you, but for some of you, it will, and chances are, you’ve gone through this particular journey before too, right?
In This Post You Will Find:
Biggest thing on my mind right now?
Being present for my kids.
Being there, 100% there, in my mind, spirit and body.
Being focused on them and being with them whenever, wherever.
These little people need stability in their lives, and I aim to be provide that for them.
Next up on my mind, is wellness and healing for myself.
There is nothing so much as a big mind-fuck as being in a relationship with a person who gaslights, lies and cheats on you, because you end up losing confidence in the very core of who you are.
I’ve got 10 years worth of this to heal from.
I can do it, but boy does it take some focus on my part. I’m so burned, so raw.
And I’m living with my mom.
This is simultaneously awesome and hard. I’m 44 years old, living with rules! And I’m 44 years old, enjoying things about my mom that I love. I am 44 years old, grateful to have space to heal. I’m 44 years old, grateful that my mom sees value in healing.
My healing at this point consists of:
- Regular acupuncture.
- Focus on Wellness.
What happened this summer was as close as I hope I’ll ever get to a nuclear bomb.
It was as if something had been building up for a very, very long time.
The shock waves are still unfolding.
I’m not physically wounded as if I had bombed. Rather, I’m spiritually shocked, shaken to my core.
When I was 4 years old, I went through the windshield of the car. My head bashed the glass and my face was torn apart. In that instant, I felt numb, a bucket of ice thrown over me, a silence, a shock.
That was physical. That was also spiritual in the sense that a great change was happening to me and my life, and even at 4 years old, I knew it.
40 years later and that same feeling is with me.
This is painful.
It’s a daily step-by-one-more-step of focus. It’s a movement forward, breathing through shock and allowing myself to heal.