2016 did not suck, ok???

To everyone complaining that this was the worst year ever. Was it really? Every year people get excited as the new year approaches ready to exit the previous year. Look, if anyone can complain about 2016, it could possibly be me. I started and ended the year getting dumped by the same dude! Sure, the election bit, I mean, we were handed the worst of the worst and ended up with the worser of the worst. The economy isn't really what they claim, much of America is living below the poverty line and the world is at so many meaningless wars over fossil fuel and futile demands for power.

Was 2016 the worst? Really, was it the very worst?

I spent the first six months of 2016 in agony. I was dumped, and dumped, and made up with and dumped, I was trying to get through my senior year of college as a very senior non-traditional student, my son was on the verge of 14 and oozing with puberty and my workload was extraordinarily challenging. My health has been teetering, I'm going through peri-menopause and everything inside me is out of whack.

So what? Really, so what? In the first teachings of buddhism, there's the Four Noble Truths and you know what the first one is? In life there is suffering. Yup, Siddharta say... Life Sucks! Ok that's the first noble truth. That's the reality. Life always has suckage. Life is full of suffering.

What I know is from my greatest struggles, my biggest pain and my hardest challenges come life's sweetest rewards. I learn so much and grow exponentially when I'm going through the hard stuff. The last couple of weeks have been agonizing. Going through finals while the same dude who comes and goes decides to dump me by text while I'm sitting on his steps going to meet him to celebrate the 3 year anniversary of our first date with my son and his bestie in tow. Talk about humiliating! (he never broke up with me in person by the way.. he feels his electronic tirade of abuse is closure enough)

And did I mention Grad School sucks so bad! I mean, it's hard, challenging, in the mix of normal life, time consuming and the material is well... it's not the joyous fun undergrad was at all. Right now I'm looking ahead at a 20 page paper I need to write this month before going back to school after break. Ugh.

Plus, my work stuff is at the winter stand still, and I have a few jobs to finish up and who knows what January will look like.

You know what?

SO WHAT! So what?

When I look back at 2016, I can see a lot to celebrate. I overcame many of the challenges and hardships I faced the first six months of 2016. My son and I had a break over the summer, and he came home a grown up more present teenager who appreciates me and his life here. I finished a novella for my senior project which was cathartic and emotional and personal. I dug deep into my pain and wrote a fictional tale that pulled the pain out of me and created a powerful accomplished 90 page piece. I graduated from college, not just any college, I got a BARD COLLEGE degree, class of 2016. It was the greatest personal success of my life. Sure, my wedding day was special, the birth of my son unimaginably amazing but.. this was different. My graduation day was mine, it was something I did for me despite my parent's criticism and all the odds against me, I did it, I got my degree! My guy and I got back together for one last time, and the last six months of 2016 with him were idyllic, dreamy, special and wonderful. Whatever the outcome, I got to love and feel love and supported. I had a person who backed me up for a while, and now I know more than ever what I want for my future.

I could be wallowing, depressed and drowning my sorrows in a pile of self medication and junk food. Instead, I'm celebrating me, liberated, beautiful, growing pains, digging in, learning, warrior me. This year, it's about kicking back and enjoying the deliciousness of life, the beautiful winter, carving up turns on the slopes, and mingling with new and old friends. Instead of isolating, I am going to go forth, go to my yoga classes, socialize, make plans, reach out and connect.

Life sucks, so what? Everyone has suffering in their life. I know my tough times got the best of my earlier this year and from those mistakes, challenges, and efforts I've learned a lot about me.

For the first time in a while, I feel really content, at ease, liberated and happy. It took me a long time to let go of what doesn't serve me, but right now... letting go feels good. There's no reason to make room for the things that cause me anguish, that bring me down and I'm not responsible for fixing other people's toxic problems.

This holiday season, I did something kind of fun, I donated and sent anonymous gifts out to all sorts of places. A few things I did? I sent donations to charities I care about, sent hats to the local elementary school to give to kids who need warm stuff, gave a turkey to a family that didn't have one for Thanksgiving, sent dog toys and blankets to the local shelter just to name a few, sent presents to friends who are far away that I thought might be surprised and that's the tip of the iceberg. Giving and giving when I really am hardly in the position to felt amazing. Knowing that I don't have to see the response, but that I made people out there happy by standing in generosity felt so good.

There's a lot to celebrate this holiday. My son is home with me and wants to be! We are closer than we've been in a long time. The house is getting super cleaned (we dumped a ton of stuff the past two days and we're not done), I got us a tree (better late than never) and Santa let me know he'll be here on Saturday night. Yay!

We may not have a lot of financial security or a dude in the house, but we have each other, we're giggling and there's lots of snow on the mountain. 2017 will be about finishing my grad school degree, taking care of my health and my heart, raising my amazing son, looking to the future and taking a good laugh at the Donald (because, when you stop being angry and just look at it, he's hilarious).

Every year is good and ever year sucks, ok? 2016 was pretty beat energetically and the election cycle definitely fucked up a lot for a lot of people's equanimity. Oh well, so be it. Time to look ahead at what's in my backyard and what matters most. I have a lot of love in my life, and I adore all the people who we pull close to us. It's ok I don't have a bio family, or a man... I've got a lot of abundance and whatever... some other dude will come along when the dust settles, I have a lot to offer and a huge heart right?

Happy Holidays y'all.

wake

I went to a wake tonight. My friend's mom passed. She was a sweet lady, an eccentric and funny woman. I met her a few times, but my favorite memory of her was when they invited me to Thanksgiving one of the years I was "orphaned" for the holiday. We ate well, I made some legendary sausage and forbidden rice dish, we laughed, played epic Scrabble games and enjoyed each other.

At the wake this evening, my pal told me the story of her mom's passing. They were home, holding her hand. They made peace and it was serene. It all happened the way an idyllic passing would be. 

I efforted to be there for my friend. My intention was to be there to remember her mom sweetly and relish the photos and flowers. But my mind kept jumping to something else.

I kept thinking of my own mother, abusive, mentally ill, sickly and unkind. I imagined her funeral. I pictured my sister, my father and myself at odds. None of them are speaking to me, and I wondered, "would they even tell me if she died?" Instead of being able to be supportive for my pal, I nestled up to my darkest wish, and would have preferred it was my mom in the box... and my painful existence of abuse and agony would just fucking end. I wished my mom was the one who died instead.

Yup. 


There's something wrong there I know. I cannot tell you how arduous and agonizing it is to grow up with a mentally ill parent incapable of loving anything or anyone. The sickness has permeated into everything in my life. I am convinced I am unlovable and unworthy of the life I can picture but never have. I met the man who should be my soulmate, but our relationship is poisoned by my abandonment issues and constant recording in my head that I am simply.... unlovable. I mean, if my mom can't love me, who will. I cling too tightly to my child, and tell him he's loved to ensure he never feels a shred of what my last 47 years of being resented and hated by a parent could possibly feel like.

I don't want my mom to die out of malice. It's not like that at all. I know it's fucked up, but I love my abusive horrible absent mom. Why? She's my mom. I have spent most of my lifetime seeking love and approval, wanting glimmers of what kids with real moms get. So why do I pray for her to die already? I want closure, and I want this agonizing suffering to end. You see, if she is dead, then that can be the excuse why she has abandoned me. I don't have to want a relationship that will never happen. I don't have to dream of some lightbulb moment she is never going to have. She isn't capable now. My mother will be unable to abuse me if she's gone. She will be out of her depression and her misery. She will hopefully finally be at peace, something she has never experienced for as long as I've been alive. I can stop wondering why I don't have a 'normal' family or parents who love me. I can say, it's because she's dead.

Triggers triggers triggers.

I remember that Thanksgiving at my friend's house. I remember how it felt to sit at a table with her, her sister and her mom who was sweet, and nice and loving towards the girls. I remember thinking how lucky they are to have a mom who is caring, and open to inviting a stranger to the table. I get mom envy quite easily, to be quite honest. I try to remember that I deserve to have come into this world to the loving arms of a good mommy. Often I find myself saying over and over in my head that it's ok, I just got dealt a shitty hand. This woman may have not been the perfect mom or the best mom, but she was a loving mom and that seems like a luxury. It shouldn't be, right? It should be a given, your mom loves you unconditionally.

My mother has never loved me. Hell, she doesn't like me. And as she has said for 47 years... she wished I had never been born.

Tonight I sat in a chair in the funeral home, looking at the casket, the flowers, the people hugging and chatting. I imagined the full life this woman lived, and prayed that my pal knows that even though her home life was far from ideal, at least she had a mom who loved her. One shouldn't have to be grateful their parents love them, but when you are me... it's a fantasy not a reality.

I've come to accept that my mom did the best she could with what she had; she was hindered greatly by depression and mental illness and drug addiction. She still is, if she is in fact still alive. I have forgiven my mom so many times, over and over practiced forgiveness, acceptance and all that crap you do on a cushion, on a couch, in a group, at that retreat, and by her side in the hospital after her big stroke. Despite the acceptance and forgiveness, the scars and wounds of her mistreatment of me linger and loiter. I can handle it most days, but today is one of the days I am giving myself permission to break down and just feel like utter crap about it.

wrong, accept it. step one.

Ok Popi, I'm gonna write it out.  I'm going to find the words to scribe to express my truest me and expel this unbearable heart break from the inner fibers of my soul.  I do not think I'll ever understand how I ended up in this spot alone on this earth.  where does that understanding really come from?

what's missing for me is closure, comprehension and the sight to truly see all the moving parts of what I'm standing on now.  standing in? standing near? engulfed by?

it is hard to breathe for large parts of the day.  just sitting and breathing takes effort, I typically take such simple things for granted.

where did I go wrong?

everything I was afraid of came to fruition.  is it self-manifested destiny or foresight?

I'm powerless.  my life has become unmanageable.  step one.

in an effort to get back to the joyful, peaceful, self loving and empowered person I was ... I have to go back to step one.

as my heart seizes, and I try to avoid becoming another pile of blubbering tears I say, "I'm powerless over... my life is unmanageable because of... "

today, I accept it is like this and like this is does suck.  it sucks being mistreated and misunderstood. it sucks being turned into a joke, or morphed into someone I'm not. I've been reinterpreted into a crazy monster, an uncaring bitch, a clingy fool and a terrible person.

but... I'm, I am, I....

I am powerless. I accept.  life is unmanageable if I keep fighting for what isn't.

why does he act with the intention to hurt me?  did I really hurt him?  is he hurt by the fact that I wanted forever? is he angry I felt I deserved something he promised me over and over?  does he feel inadequate despite the millions of times I told him he's awesome and adored unconditionally?

there is no answer.  there won't be.  I don't get to have closure or understanding.  these choices have all been made for me.  no matter how hard I endeavor to fix and change and grow, I do these things alone.  boxed in a corner, too hideous to look upon.  a blubbering mess that once smiled incessantly. sparkles traded in for washed up aged wrinkles and funny old people hairs in new places.

I've been told many times that it is none of my business what other people think of me.  it doesn't matter, I shouldn't take other people's actions personally.  there is one problem.  this is the most personal of thoughts, they are embedded on experiences that include me exclusively.  my self worth has been ripped from me.  they laugh, they taunt, they make memes and joke at my expense.  they pat him on the back for kicking me when I'm down, and they tell him he's right for escaping the clutches of the horrible person he has made me out to be.  I look in the mirror, and I do not see what he sees at all.  he fashions me to be something dark and terrible.  an unlovable hideous monster unworthy of anyone's love.

does any of that matter?

but, I am not crazy? my feelings are valid.  I know they are valid.  I've been told my feelings matter somewhere, was it a book? a story?  I am right to have an opinion.  I am allowed to have a point of view.  why does he always adamantly blame me? why does he get to be cruel, time, and time again?  I am not cruel.  I am skillful, honest and compassionate.

wait. breathe. pause.

I am powerless over....
My life is unmanageable because of....

it is painful to confess, but thoughts of wanting to disappear and become nothing swallowed me whole over and over as he ran away and chickened out on a life that was near perfectly wonderful.  and now he has fallen in love with someone else.  two weeks after he kissed me and said I make the world a better place, two weeks after he held me and told me he appreciates me and loves me... he manages to find someone else.  days after he sends me love letters and professes he still loves me.  he loves someone else.  there's a new girlfriend now.  she's better than me he says.

everything I am, everything I gave, every part of me I put into this affair becomes invalidated on one swift communication letting me know that I single handedly ruined a date with a stranger I knew nothing about.

he has a new girlfriend.  I found out in an angry email.  he's mad I want to see him and spend time with him.  he is uncomfortable that I still love him and openly share my heart with him.  me, the bane of everything bad.  me the catalyst of his pain.  me, the unfortunate mistake he's done making.

he has fallen out of love with me in a few days and in love with someone new.  someone better than me because she doesn't call him and bother him, he says.  he has determined this new person is better than me because in two weeks he's learned everything he needs to know about this new lover to identify how wonderful and perfect she is.  he calls her his new girlfriend.  he's rather spend time with his new girlfriend.  he looks forward to making an effort to spend a whole weekend with his new girlfriend.

was he even done with the one he had?

I am disposable.  I am nothing.  a filthy wet snot rag, untouchable and undesirable.  he could take it or leave it if I call.  he doesn't care.  he's fine if we don't see each other ever again. he doesn't miss me.  there's nothing to miss, he says.  I am a thought that evaporates into the ether and becomes silence.  a tear rolling down a cheek in the rain disappearing with the rest of the H2O gathering into puddles and pools of wetness at our feet.  inconsequential. a nuisance when heard.

stop.

there are things to be grateful for.  I can pick up the pieces.  I can start life over.  I can have a day one, a day two, a day three a life after all of this.

I am powerless over.... my life is unmanageable because of ....

it is not my fault I have scars, bumps and bruises.  my intentions were forever and always for love.

I love fully, openly and without abandon.  I fall deeply, care unconditionally and effort to be kind, graceful, compassionate and honest.  each day, I gave all I had.  I committed to the process and offered all of me.

everything I was afraid of from the day we met came true.
I've been abandoned when I was most vulnerable.  I believed there were two people here.  there is only one, me, alone.

now, I need to love me the way I loved him.  I need to care for me the way I was concerned for his well being.  today, I promise to treat myself as I treat everyone but me.  I gotta fall back in love with me.  it's the only way I'll ever break through and out of this broken place.

right now, I need to just accept that it is like this.  it sucks.  he loves someone new.  accept it dumb ass.  he is done with me, I'm a wretch, unlovable and no, that's not what I say...

I have to care for me as though I am my own best friend.  someone can find me lovable, I can love me first.  so much easier to spew through written word than to believe in my heart.

today was day two.  almost there... I can do this right?