xlll Rosie lllx: trust... mhm.
JCMcLovin: i dont think i will ever trust.
JCMcLovin: im not so good at trust in the first place
*****
i seem a trusting soul
i share a lot.. my feelings, my likes, my dislikes, stories.. humor.. stuff
in some ways i do trust
but thats fluff
just stuff thats on my surface.
but the first hint of something off..
i shut down..
i close the book..
i have even just up and walked away. many many times.
dig dig dig away at my well-worked topsoil
and there is bedrock
good luck breaking through
if you have had full conversations with me
you know what i do for a living
you know i have dogs
you know i like food
you know i'm diabetic
you know i run
you know i write
but that's as much as i talk about the personal ins and outs of my life.
if you read me, you know a little more.
you know about my family.
you know some of my losses.
you know i'm passionate.
you probably know i am on a personal mission of self-discovery and healing..
it's slow going.
i realize the bedrock is a lack of faith in myself.
i dont trust myself enough to let go.
maybe i just don't have the right tools.
i don't risk trusting because i have been disappointed and hurt so many times.
trusting takes energy and work and time. and i am impatient.
why the hell does everything in my life have to take work?
so i go through life half-trusting. it's easier, right?
wrong.
it sucks.
i know if i could trust i would be happier.
trusting takes courage.
trusting takes.. dusting.
do you have any idea how much i hate dusting?
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Trust me.
Trust is a big thing for me. I want to be trustworthy and true. I want people to be able to relax around me and not have to have their guard up. I like to be dependable and predictable.
I need to be liked, but I also need to say what's true for me. I don't want to do things just to go along and please people. I want to trust that my friends are honest with me and tell me if they are bored, or uncomfortable, or busy. I need honesty in my life. I don't want to be humored or put up with.
I like to think the best of people, so it catches me a bit off guard when someone is hitting below the belt, but I pick up on it quick. I am fast on my feet and quick to assert my rights to be treated fairly.
It wasn't always like that.
I've spent a long time learning to trust myself. It seems to be a life long lesson. I second guess myself a lot.
Did I do the right thing?
Could I have done it better?
Was that okay? Am I okay?
What about now? Am I okay now?
I need to be liked, but I also need to say what's true for me. I don't want to do things just to go along and please people. I want to trust that my friends are honest with me and tell me if they are bored, or uncomfortable, or busy. I need honesty in my life. I don't want to be humored or put up with.
I like to think the best of people, so it catches me a bit off guard when someone is hitting below the belt, but I pick up on it quick. I am fast on my feet and quick to assert my rights to be treated fairly.
It wasn't always like that.
I've spent a long time learning to trust myself. It seems to be a life long lesson. I second guess myself a lot.
Did I do the right thing?
Could I have done it better?
Was that okay? Am I okay?
What about now? Am I okay now?
Playlist
Make a playlist, she says! Easy for you to say. Not easy for me to do. We never had a term for a bunch of music you had to have around you while you live your life. We had the radio on constantly but we had to wait for our favorites until they were broadcast. And we bought albums we could play when we wanted to hear our favorites, on our players at home in our room (if we were lucky) or with the family listening too. So, living with my choice of music in my life constantly is a bit of a stretch for me.
Five years ago I packed up my albums, tapes, players and music and they went to my new house in Washington. Less than two weeks later my son was dead and I never unpacked the music. I-pods had just come in to general use and I remember listening to my son's favorites on the 16 hour drive home in his car with his belongings packed in, crying all the way. And that was it for me and music.
Sure, I listen to the top ten here on the radio. It's pop rock; Mariah, Adelle, country stars (I don't even remember their names) and I enjoy them as they come to me. Or, I listen to the oldies station where the songs are familiar. I'll always love my brother's music but he passed last year so it is painful now. Last Christmas, my daughter, bless her, copied every CD from my son's collection onto an ipod for me to enjoy. His music is the music we shared when we drove around together...Green Day, Bob Marley, Red Hot Chili Peppers, John Lee Hooker, Bob Marley, No Doubt, Prodigy, Weird Al and Macy Gray. It's not easy to keep the earbuds in. They're uncomfortable. They remind me my hearing is not what it used to be. But, then again, nothing is...what it used to be. Especially not my music, my playlist....not easy.
Five years ago I packed up my albums, tapes, players and music and they went to my new house in Washington. Less than two weeks later my son was dead and I never unpacked the music. I-pods had just come in to general use and I remember listening to my son's favorites on the 16 hour drive home in his car with his belongings packed in, crying all the way. And that was it for me and music.
Sure, I listen to the top ten here on the radio. It's pop rock; Mariah, Adelle, country stars (I don't even remember their names) and I enjoy them as they come to me. Or, I listen to the oldies station where the songs are familiar. I'll always love my brother's music but he passed last year so it is painful now. Last Christmas, my daughter, bless her, copied every CD from my son's collection onto an ipod for me to enjoy. His music is the music we shared when we drove around together...Green Day, Bob Marley, Red Hot Chili Peppers, John Lee Hooker, Bob Marley, No Doubt, Prodigy, Weird Al and Macy Gray. It's not easy to keep the earbuds in. They're uncomfortable. They remind me my hearing is not what it used to be. But, then again, nothing is...what it used to be. Especially not my music, my playlist....not easy.
compassion..
n. Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve
it.
dad had his stroke july of '99. he was 54.
dad calls me, two years later.. my ma fighting him for the phone..
'son, your ma needs to talk to you. she didnt want to tell you..'
'bay..'
what is it ma?
'they found cancer.'
silence.
more silence.
'it's fourth stage.'
gulp.
chokes.
she doesnt want me to come home. she gets through a round of chemo. it's rough as hell on her. she is tough. i come home to go to her first radiation meeting with the docs. she thinks she is going for her first session. we ask questions. i hold her hand tight. this is the first time i have ever seen my ma.. frightened. she looks so small and fragile. i just want to carry her home. i want to make it all go away. im angry. im sad. im scared to death. but i dont show any emotion. im numb. the doctor leaves us with paperwork and a grim handshake.
i look down at her.
we are gonna beat it, mom.
she sits in shock.
and relief floods over her lovely face.
'i don't have treatment today?... i don't have radiation therapy today!!'
no. not today.
the relief is.. palpable. i hold her hand as we walk out of the building.
'i need to shop.'
ok. where to?
$600.00 later, she is worn out. and we are headed home.
******
i came home again. after she tried chemo again.. and it made her sick.. and after hospice was called. my sister and i sat with dad at the kitchen table and tried to explain as gently as possible to him that talking aloud about her, when she is in the next room.. as if she were already gone.. needed to stop. we went through paperwork. my brother showed up once and came at my sister for touching stuff. if ma weren't right there, things would have gotten a lot uglier between he and i. we were all under a lot of pressure.
dad constantly crying.
ma trying to seem lucid, though she was under heavy doses of medication.
my sister, quiet.
my brother, absent.
me in denial.. we are still gonna beat this ma...
and i only had two weeks to spend with her.. before we had to head back.
i cant finish this.
dad had his stroke july of '99. he was 54.
dad calls me, two years later.. my ma fighting him for the phone..
'son, your ma needs to talk to you. she didnt want to tell you..'
'bay..'
what is it ma?
'they found cancer.'
silence.
more silence.
'it's fourth stage.'
gulp.
chokes.
she doesnt want me to come home. she gets through a round of chemo. it's rough as hell on her. she is tough. i come home to go to her first radiation meeting with the docs. she thinks she is going for her first session. we ask questions. i hold her hand tight. this is the first time i have ever seen my ma.. frightened. she looks so small and fragile. i just want to carry her home. i want to make it all go away. im angry. im sad. im scared to death. but i dont show any emotion. im numb. the doctor leaves us with paperwork and a grim handshake.
i look down at her.
we are gonna beat it, mom.
she sits in shock.
and relief floods over her lovely face.
'i don't have treatment today?... i don't have radiation therapy today!!'
no. not today.
the relief is.. palpable. i hold her hand as we walk out of the building.
'i need to shop.'
ok. where to?
$600.00 later, she is worn out. and we are headed home.
******
i came home again. after she tried chemo again.. and it made her sick.. and after hospice was called. my sister and i sat with dad at the kitchen table and tried to explain as gently as possible to him that talking aloud about her, when she is in the next room.. as if she were already gone.. needed to stop. we went through paperwork. my brother showed up once and came at my sister for touching stuff. if ma weren't right there, things would have gotten a lot uglier between he and i. we were all under a lot of pressure.
dad constantly crying.
ma trying to seem lucid, though she was under heavy doses of medication.
my sister, quiet.
my brother, absent.
me in denial.. we are still gonna beat this ma...
and i only had two weeks to spend with her.. before we had to head back.
i cant finish this.
Compassion
Compassion. Going beyond yourself. Connecting with another. Hard enough...but, the other struggle is how to let those for whom you have compassion reciprocate. Somehow that seems nearly impossible in my experience. It's almost as if the act of compassion voids the relationship somehow.
I have a friend for whom I feel a lot. Because I sense her struggle I try to mediate it with little gifts or a dinner out, or a treat for her cats. She will never be able to return in kind. And, I wouldn't want her to. However, even within this dynamic I feel an unspoken resentment? Not resentment....something. So, we spend time with her telling me how she used to be able to help people too! And that highlights the fact that I am in a position to help and she is not.
Lately, I find myself trying to think of ways she might help me out. She's good on Ebay...she knows Photoshop, she's a writer. So, I spend time trying to come up with scenarios where I'm needy and she can help me. Sadly, these are not real scenarios and they're taking my time. I'm feeling like a parent trying to keep my child busy in a waiting room. I wish this relationship were more honest!
I really don't like her cats! I wish she would eat more balanced food! Her alcoholic brother should leave her house. But, I'm not going there! So, I help her out and feel like a social worker bringing a client home to live. It's not an even exchange of friendship. Somehow my compassion is twisted into something else.
Compassion.
I'm exhausted in eyes and fingers, but my mind is still spinning.
Compassion is a helping word. You cannot be passive and still have compassion. You must have a strong desire to relieve the suffering you see. You share their pain and listen to their suffering, and you reach out to help reduce it. Compassion allows both people to feel uplifted and neither are drained.
But practicing compassion can slide into toxic codependency. There are pitfalls you have to watch out for.
Co-dependency is not the same as compassion. I could expound on and on about the differences at midnite as my eyes blurr, or cheat and hand out a prewritten url.
http://www.creativepathtogrowth.com/tag/compassion-versus-codependency/
and this url http://www.integrallifework.com/images/Compassion&Codependence.pdf a real gem of new age love and wholeness.
I fail the most at being compassionate with myself. I need to tend to my own little mental owies with the same non judgmental affection I tend to my friends.
Compassion is a helping word. You cannot be passive and still have compassion. You must have a strong desire to relieve the suffering you see. You share their pain and listen to their suffering, and you reach out to help reduce it. Compassion allows both people to feel uplifted and neither are drained.
But practicing compassion can slide into toxic codependency. There are pitfalls you have to watch out for.
Co-dependency is not the same as compassion. I could expound on and on about the differences at midnite as my eyes blurr, or cheat and hand out a prewritten url.
http://www.creativepathtogrowth.com/tag/compassion-versus-codependency/
and this url http://www.integrallifework.com/images/Compassion&Codependence.pdf a real gem of new age love and wholeness.
I fail the most at being compassionate with myself. I need to tend to my own little mental owies with the same non judgmental affection I tend to my friends.
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