I probably know better than to write when sleep deprived, but here goes...
I swear the theme of my week is powerlessness. I hate that. Or it could be my controlling natures are out of control. One of my favorite quotes by... well, me. Both are powerlessness, I guess.
To say this week has been "interesting" is an understatement. A coworker tells me interesting is a code word. For what? Hmmm, crappy? hell? Not going MY way? Interesting.
So this is how my week started... still getting over the sore throat crud that keeps nudging at me and won't let me be. Unable to fall asleep or stay asleep when I do fall asleep. And slammed at work is another understatement. Mainly powerless at work... unable to do my job when I await others to do their jobs. But I will not complain because I absolutely love my job and am grateful to be working. I am just tired. Over the next 3 days, I will work 42 hours. I have already worked 30 hours in the past 3 days. On about 2 hours sleep a night. Powerlessness. To make matters worse, I have been unable to work out because my body is not allowing it. Powerlessness.
Then came the fun part yesterday. This is where my humanness comes in. I go to the knee doctor. This is nothing new, I've been doing for about 15 years now. However, it is now time to hear the words I did not want to hear... they can no longer give me my usual injections because it is now more important to "save my knee"... meaning my knee is officially crap (as if I didn't know that), they can't replace it until I'm 40, and the only solution is the most painful injection of my life, Synvisc. I got it done, but screamed like a baby. Still limping today. However, instead of acknowledging my disappointment and powerlessness, I keep on my day like business as usual. I go to a wonderful meeting last night (topic? Powerlessness, go figure) and come home. Automatically, I start raging because of my ridiculously lazy roommate and his inability to clean up his own messes... powerlessness.
All of that to come to this conclusion.... yes, I am powerless over all of these people and situations. However, I can change my reactions. I can be grateful. I can express my opinions and desires (in a respectful manner) to coworkers, doctors, roommates, etc. I do not have to keep it all in my head and rage over it all. I can discuss it or get it all out in a healthy manner. That is up to me. Most importantly, I can choose to turn it all over. OR I can keep bitching about it all. What is my choice to be? I think I will choose a Power much greater than me.
Love to all, Light to all
DBear
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Healing the Crazy Carla...
So this may be the longest I have gone without blogging... I am actually surprised that I did not write over the holidays, especially New Years. I think part of it is that December was just really a rough month for me. And I wasn't really "feeling" it... I also have been contemplating taking this blog in a different direction, and really getting serious about writing again. More on that later.
They say home is where the heart is. I still refer to Tallahassee as "home". However, after this trip back to Florida, I wonder if I will ever truly see it as home again. There is much healing that needs to occur before I can honestly say yes. Do I miss my family and friends I consider family? Very much. But there are deep wounds that come with "home" that I am never sure will completely heal. Every time I feel I have made strides in these areas, they just come right back up to smack me down. That is what I felt during my trip. Sure, there were some beautiful moments. Especially with my elders. There were also some very painful moments. Reminders of my past, of mistakes I have made, that I will never be forgiven for (so it seems to me), or that I am still paying for... and that is sad.
What was the saddest of all was my reactions. I tend to be very centered in my life here, grounded. Sure, I am high strung at work, but I am paid to be... that is my job. Most of the time, I am relatively calm. Most of the time. Going home, that was not the case. My reactions were automatically those of my 21 and 22 year old self, maybe even my 14 year old self. Believe me, that is not someone anyone should see. Crazy Carla does not need to come out. Ever. And that is exactly what happened. And continues to happen when I allow myself to go there.
Since I have returned from my trip, it has been abundantly apparent that there are certain roles I cannot return to, certain relationships I need to abstain from until I heal. Maybe I can be part of those relationships after the healing has happened, but not until then. How do I know this? Quite simply, if I cannot interact with the person in question without becoming Crazy Carla, I need not interact with them at all. This is a hard lesson. A sad one. Does this mean I love the person any less? Absolutely not. Does this mean I do not want to be involved in their life? No, I do. I just need to heal first. I need to get over the harm caused, by myself and the other person. I need to take my claws out of it. Let go.
Woosah.
I needed to breathe.
I can say there have been completely healthy decisions made since coming home from Florida. I am now Literature Chair at my home group (the oldest women's meeting in the East Bay), childcare provider to the Sunday meeting moms at Central, and I took a hotline shift for the middle of the night on the weekends. I also started hockey, and will be doing some personal growth seminars in SF this spring. I didn't set out the year to do more, it's just all falling in to place this way. As far as the goals I have for this year, I am still working on those. I am actively practicing gratitude on a daily basis, handling my financial affairs, and practicing self-care. Those are definites. And part of the letting go is included in that self-care.
There was a part of me that questioned my decision of moving here once I came back to the Bay. It was a minor panic attack over the cost of living, the lonesomeness I sometimes feel here, the missing my family and my Bear, etc. That was short lived. I came back to work and realized I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I had all of these service work opportunities present themselves and was reminded.... In this moment, without fail, I am where Creator intends me to be. For this, I am truly grateful.
Love to all, Light to all,
DBear
They say home is where the heart is. I still refer to Tallahassee as "home". However, after this trip back to Florida, I wonder if I will ever truly see it as home again. There is much healing that needs to occur before I can honestly say yes. Do I miss my family and friends I consider family? Very much. But there are deep wounds that come with "home" that I am never sure will completely heal. Every time I feel I have made strides in these areas, they just come right back up to smack me down. That is what I felt during my trip. Sure, there were some beautiful moments. Especially with my elders. There were also some very painful moments. Reminders of my past, of mistakes I have made, that I will never be forgiven for (so it seems to me), or that I am still paying for... and that is sad.
What was the saddest of all was my reactions. I tend to be very centered in my life here, grounded. Sure, I am high strung at work, but I am paid to be... that is my job. Most of the time, I am relatively calm. Most of the time. Going home, that was not the case. My reactions were automatically those of my 21 and 22 year old self, maybe even my 14 year old self. Believe me, that is not someone anyone should see. Crazy Carla does not need to come out. Ever. And that is exactly what happened. And continues to happen when I allow myself to go there.
Since I have returned from my trip, it has been abundantly apparent that there are certain roles I cannot return to, certain relationships I need to abstain from until I heal. Maybe I can be part of those relationships after the healing has happened, but not until then. How do I know this? Quite simply, if I cannot interact with the person in question without becoming Crazy Carla, I need not interact with them at all. This is a hard lesson. A sad one. Does this mean I love the person any less? Absolutely not. Does this mean I do not want to be involved in their life? No, I do. I just need to heal first. I need to get over the harm caused, by myself and the other person. I need to take my claws out of it. Let go.
Woosah.
I needed to breathe.
I can say there have been completely healthy decisions made since coming home from Florida. I am now Literature Chair at my home group (the oldest women's meeting in the East Bay), childcare provider to the Sunday meeting moms at Central, and I took a hotline shift for the middle of the night on the weekends. I also started hockey, and will be doing some personal growth seminars in SF this spring. I didn't set out the year to do more, it's just all falling in to place this way. As far as the goals I have for this year, I am still working on those. I am actively practicing gratitude on a daily basis, handling my financial affairs, and practicing self-care. Those are definites. And part of the letting go is included in that self-care.
There was a part of me that questioned my decision of moving here once I came back to the Bay. It was a minor panic attack over the cost of living, the lonesomeness I sometimes feel here, the missing my family and my Bear, etc. That was short lived. I came back to work and realized I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I had all of these service work opportunities present themselves and was reminded.... In this moment, without fail, I am where Creator intends me to be. For this, I am truly grateful.
Love to all, Light to all,
DBear
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