What Do You Do When You Acheive All Of Your Goals?

It has been awhile since I have posted.  I have been so focused on my family and building my business, that I have let my meanderings of my mind sit by the wayside.  

I still spend much of my time doing the same things.  Now that I’m in my 3rd trimester, I don’t spend nearly as much time running. I do look forward to returning to trail running after the 4th trimester is complete!  I so desperately want to do a half marathon and a triathlon.  

To be completely honest, I’m deeply happy.  I’m so grateful with my life right now, that I don’t know that there is anything I would want to change.  I have finally hit a point of flow, synergy, and just love.  I’m grateful each day I get to wake up next to my husband and have the opportunity to be with my children.  I’m so excited to meet our precious new baby.  

I’m content.  I’m at peace.  I appreciate every moment I am given.  

I get to take my son on adventures to the local nature centers.  We spend time hiking trails in the woods.  My husband and I lay in bed and cuddle at night, filled with laughter and love.  He looks at me with awe and wonder as my body changes to support our growing child.  I look at him with complete gratitude for who I have pledged the remainder of my life to.  

We are in great physical health.  We are emotionally stable.  We are financially stable, but still working on building our assets and wealth to give more to others.  I want to let my light help others ignite their own.  

I am in awe at how far we have grown and changed in just a year.  I mean, many of you read my blog last year, and it was just disastrous. It felt that way at the time anyway.  It was all just blessings working very hard to manifest in our lives. God works in mysterious ways, right?  I never envisioned this as our future a year ago.  I couldn’t have believed it was possible at the time.  

So, I think I have finally hit that stage where I am ready to expand my circle of influence.  I have been tremendously blessed, and I want to share these blessings with others.  

If you had everything you wanted in life, what would you do? 

My Suffering Is Only Temporary

All suffering is temporary.  All of it.  

“You’re going through some shit.”

“That’s an understatement.”

I am so wonderfully grateful to all of my amazing friends who love and support me without judgment throughout this journey.  

Maybe this is some obscure personal growth rite of passage into higher awakening.  I certainly feel my soul unfolding.  I don’t tend to take life with gentleness.  I am ripping the outer layers away to get to the center.  

“I am safe and rooted because I am loved by God and grounded in life.”  This is my daily prayer that is coming into my life.

I try to be my highest self. But just like every other human being out there.  I fail.  I do it again and again.  However, I try to piece together my lessons, so that in each passing moment, I am a better version of myself.

This is my coming of age story.  

Here is my confession, my very public confession.  I had an affair with a guy that I met at a bar only two hours prior on May 6th.  This is why I have been so quiet.  I have been walking through the dark recesses of my subconscious trying to gain meaning and redemption.  At this point, all the main parties  involved have forgiven my more private confessions.  I am working against my strongest critic.  Myself.  I think I am winning that battle, step by step.

I went out with my friends and my dad to a craft brewery.  I don’t drink, remember?  Three beers is apparently the magic number.  That is when my voice of reason goes dormant.  

Now let me preface this with, prior to this evening, I have only slept with a total of 3 men.  I am 29 years old.  I have had sex with my first husband.  I have had sex with my second husband.  I had a SINGLE one night stand that I stopped after a few minutes in between the two.  I did that out of revenge.  I didn’t like my motives at the time, so I stopped.

I am not perfect.  I had not spoken with my husband in over 3 weeks.  I am a grown woman.  I am accustomed to having a partner at regular intervals at this point in my life.  

I made a vow that I take very seriously.  I love my husband with every ounce of my being.  He is handsome.  He is a great father.  He is a husband that works hard at every aspect of his life.  He has put blood, sweat, and tears into this decade.  He has toiled and labored.  He is a good man.  A great man.  A profound man.  We have a phenomenal sex life.  Out of my now four lovers total, he is still, by far, the best lover I have ever had.  I will gladly shout it from the rooftops.  

But it had been a month since I had any physical and loving contact.  I am a mother of two children.  I have an active sex life.  I am accustomed to having physical affection in my life.  My husband was sending me emails every couple of days.  Then the last email said I needed to have the sheriff bring me to pick up my stuff.  He never sent another email.

Seeing as how I have not seen my 3 year old son in all of this time, I did not want to randomly show up into his home, only to immediately leave again.  That would be additionally traumatizing, and they are all just things.  I have everything I need to survive in my possession.

My dad said that he was angry, that my chances weren’t good.  My lawyer said he didn’t want to have anything to do with me.  My best friend said to prepare for the worst.  My other lawyer said he has likely filed for divorce, that this is likely a custody ploy.  

And, I was drunk, sitting around a bonfire.  I was sitting next to my dad and two of my good friends, having a good time in this sea of disaster called my life.  God, did it feel good to have an ounce of joy.  

My friend that I was staying with invited her high school boyfriend.  I had never met him, but I’ve heard her talk about him over the years.  She met her husband after she broke up with him.  They go cycling and do Crossfit together.   He was running the half marathon in the morning to honor his deceased mother.

He had the same build as my husband: wide, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, a muscular build.  He had curly hair.  If he had blond hair, the resemblance would be striking.  He told the same jokes too, the kind that you chuckle at, but are annoying.  You know the ones, right?  Dad jokes.  

He gave me a ride home because I couldn’t drive.  He had an extended cab truck.  It was red.  My husband’s was gray when I met him.  

He helped me up the stairs.  When we got in, he picked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and carried me back to my bed.  It felt so good to be held in a caring way.

And it happened.  It was like following a meditation.  There was no thought around it.  Like, it would have almost seemed like it would have stopped the fabric of time had I not followed through.  I’m sincerely hoping that within it, there is some deep universal ripple that has occurred from this single act.  It is my wish that many come into a higher level of consciousness from this act.

I did this very bad no good terrible thing.  I did it on top of the other very bad no good terrible things.  I did THREE very bad no good terrible things IN A ROW. 

We had court last Wednesday.  While in court, the lawyer said that he is filing for divorce and extending the no contact order.  The good news is that the court only required me to get a mental health evaluation and as long as I am compliant, this will be off my record in less than six months.  This isn’t a death sentence.  Even in this pain, I am tremendously blessed.

After court, I drove to my apartment complex. I sobbed in the parking lot.  The blinds to my son’s bedroom were open and I could see his toys and his little bed.  I sobbed so hard.  I am paying my dues.  

In my first marriage, I played the role of my father.  My father was the very utilitarian type.  He was very controlling to my mother.  He was a pretty gentle father.  If my mom didn’t meet his expectations, he would tear into her verbally.  Of course, the more he did this, the more she would respond in chaos.

I played that role in my first marriage.  I treated my ex-husband just as my father treated my mother.  And you know what he did?  He had affairs.  He had lots of affairs.  He also sent me to the hospital with a concussion.  

Although what he did was wrong, I have empathy for him.  I can understand why he behaved the way he did.  He could never meet the expectations I set for him.  I created an impossible scenario for him.

In therapy, this is called the cycle of violence.  Now, I’m not saying he is right, but I’m also not saying I was right either.  In a cycle of violence, what causes the spiral is the continuation of reactive behavior, from both parties.  Either one or both partners must consciously step out of reactive behavior to stop the spiraling, or it continues until death. 

We replay our childhood trauma as adults.  This is what causes negative interaction patterns.  This is why all of us are inherently flawed.  Every last one of us.  It is modeled for us in our childhood.

Unless one or both partners live in a conscious space, you live in a reactive partnership.  It becomes volatile and damaging.  Either you choose to grow in love or hurt in love.  There is no such thing as stagnant love.

I have requested Imago therapy, which delves into bringing childhood traumas to the surface.  We couldn’t make it because of my husband’s work schedule.  We read the books, but never did the exercises.  

I have been married to this man for 6 years.  I lived with him for a long time prior to that.  In that time, I could never meet his expectations.  Is it me playing out my childhood trauma of my dad, by me playing the role of my mother in this marriage? These would be great questions to delve into with a marriage therapist.  I’ve discussed it extensively with my personal therapist.  

For better or worse, the karmic wheel keeps turning.  Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

At least now I know what my pregnancy test dream represented.  

I Am Safe and Rooted Because I Am Loved By God and Grounded in Life

I am safe and rooted because I am loved by God and grounded in life.

This was my affirmation.  

My spiritual friends and mentors kept telling me to work on grounding – that I’m not grounded.  

“What does that even MEAN?” I kept asking.  I never really got a good answer out of them and I just felt more and more frustrated.  I wanted to know why I wasn’t “grounded.”  This was my daily prayer. The funny thing about prayers and affirmations is that they often come true.  

It was like shaking a 2 liter bottle of soda vigorously.  I was shaking my soul, telling it I wanted this.  I have a lot of energy, so I was shaking it HARD.  

I kept trying to let the pressure off.  “Psssssssssst.”  It would fizz, and some would leak out, so I would tighten the cap and wait for a moment.  Then I would try again.  I had small energy releases.  Tears, yelling, more running, more lovemaking, more soul vibrating.  

True to who I am, though, I said “eh, what’s the worst that could happen?”  And I took the cap off to my soul anyway.  

My soul soda went EVERYWHERE.  It’s on the cabinets, counters, floor, me, and just about every person in my metaphorical “soul” house.  My soul exploded.  Quite literally, I think.  And I’m standing here in the aftermath saying “oh, shit.”  

What else can I do, but pull out the mop and sponges and start diligently cleaning up?  It is a mess.  A huge mess.  This forum is me opening the broom closet to my soul.  I’m cleaning up the mess of my soul explosion.  

How do I even begin to explain where I am?  I am sitting in a chair at Starbucks.  I’m waiting until my hair appointment.  I have court in a week, and if there is one thing I’m good at, it is looking beautiful.  I’ll stick with what I know I can do well when life is confusing.  

I have two suitcases in my car that I’m living out of.  I’m sleeping wherever I can find a roof, bed, and shower. I have three grocery bags of fruits and vegetables in the passenger seat of my car.  My life is a flurry of driving, crying, and surviving.  

I asked for it, though.  I asked for this and it came to me with the same force as getting hit by a truck.  

“I am safe.”  This was the kicker.  I AM safe.

I have a good husband.  I have lots of family and friends.  I have, through my husband, financial security.  I have two degrees.  I’m heavily employable and able bodied.  There is nothing keeping me from being safe, right?

That’s what was so confusing about my spiritual friends telling me I needed to work on grounding.  I mean, I have the life people DREAM of, and I KNOW it.  

Why do I not feel safe and grounded?  Why didn’t I have that feeling?  What else could I possibly need or want?  I have it all.  I know I do.  What was missing? 

Trauma.  

I have worked through the logical, therapeutic basis of my trauma history.  That was one of the reasons why I chose the educational path that I did.  I have worked through the body aspects of trauma, in how our thought processes are reflected in our body.  

If you don’t think trauma gets trapped in our cells, I’m here to tell you that it does and this experience proves it to me.  I started this journey to release all the negative in my life to help my soul unfold.  That includes releasing the trauma trapped in my soul.  The trauma that I didn’t even know was there, that I thought I had already dealt with.  

I hadn’t.  Not by a long shot.  

My parents were physically and emotionally abusive.  I’ve come to terms with it as we are all doing the best we can.  I have no doubt that they love me with all that they have.  They speak with me openly about it now anytime I come to them.  I’m blessed to have this experience and it does help release that pressure build up.  

That’s part of what brought me here, but not the most significant piece because I can talk with them.  That is very healing for me.  

What has hidden dormant within me, is the physical and emotional abuse I experienced with my ex-husband.  I have forgiven him and myself.  My son even lives with him and I feel like I have a pretty good relationship with his wife.  I trust that they both care deeply for my son and have his best interests at heart.  

I never healed the trauma, though, and it was very traumatizing to me.  I had therapy.  I had years of therapy.  I went to school to become a therapist, but that trauma remained in my cells.  I hadn’t released it from my body.  It existed in the deep recesses of my mind.  

I met my current husband 18 months after I resolved to leave my ex-husband, but that alone was a traumatic experience.  It was very difficult to break free from my ex and neither of us behaved well.  We were both children.  I was just 19 and he was 22.  

I had no intention of falling in love with my current husband.  I was up front about this even.  I knew I had a lot of healing left to do.  

But, God, how could I NOT fall in love with him?  He was so handsome.  He was a phenomenal lover.  When I laid in bed next to him, I felt safe and happy.  But I was dependent on him for that sense of security and safety, which creates co-dependency.  In that co-dependency, there is a lack of personal and emotional safety.  

My ex-husband gave me a severe concussion.  That was the moment that decided it was time to leave.  There were lots of things before that.  The whole thing was incredibly unhealthy.  We were both far too damaged to really be able to exist together in a healthy way.  

Don’t get me wrong.  It takes two in any situation like this, and sometimes walking away is the greatest thing you can do.  I have no doubt, this was what was best for everyone.  

But still I have the trauma.  It is deep in there. I exist well most of the time.  I don’t really feel like it comes up often, if ever. 

I went on Prozac after the trauma.  I’ve stayed on it pretty much since.  I’ve tried to go off of it as I’ve done work, only to pretty immediately go back on it.  I would open the cap and some of the soul soda would start pouring out.  I would tighten it back up, and go back on the medication.

Leif, my youngest, has severe food allergies.  My holistic health self postulated that it was likely caused by being on Prozac throughout my pregnancy, but who knows.  I don’t take birth control and simply follow my cycles, and should I be blessed with an unexpected pregnancy, I wanted my system clear of the medication.  

I didn’t know the trauma was still there.  I have been trying to go off of Prozac since this summer.  I have been trying to manage through diet, exercise, meditation, etc.  I kept going back on it when the soul soda started fizzing out and making a huge mess.  In February, though, I told myself I didn’t need it and I wasn’t going to go back on it.  I could do this without it.  

But I didn’t feel safe and I couldn’t.  I had unresolved trauma.  From February to April our marital arguments escalated.  We have been married 6 years and lived together prior to that.  We have been blessed with a pretty great marriage the majority of the time, until our traumas overlapped, which is bound to happen from time to time.  The worst that has happened was the last time I went off of Prozac, I threw and busted a mason jar in our driveway.  Which in the grand scheme of bad arguments, that isn’t all that bad, and it only happened once.  I went back on the Prozac.  

In April, almost a month ago, I opened the cap to my soul soda, though.  I’ve been plenty angry at him before.  I’ve wanted to hit him.  I’ve wanted to run away and never come back.  I’ve wanted him to just disappear so I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.  I’ve wanted these things, but only momentarily, because I knew that above all else, I wanted him.  I wanted us.  I wanted our family.  So any of these things would dissipate almost as quickly as they came and nothing terrible or insurmountable ever occurred.  

Until now.  I have been going over this and over this and over this.  I have been trying to make sense of it.  It is so entirely out of character for me, for us, for our family.  It feels almost surreal.  Even typing it out, I’m shocked.  Saying it aloud feels like I’m talking about someone else.  And, in reality, I am.  I am talking about myself who has stepped outside of her rational brain and into her “old brain.”

It wasn’t until 3 therapy appointments, 1 psychiatric appointment, and 1 doctor appointment later that I was able to piece this together.

My ex-husband was holding my wrists, inches from my face, screaming “JUST LISTEN TO ME” before I was thrown down onto the concrete of the driveway.  

I’m not a big person.  I’m about 5’3” and 135 lbs and I was about the same size then as I am now.  It doesn’t take a lot of force to do a lot of damage.  I was knocked out, and I only remember bits and pieces of the aftermath still.  

When my current husband said this same sentence to me, my fight or flight was activated and my safety center was ripped out from under me.  My prefrontal lobe completely shut down and nothing but fear flooded my entire body.  

I slapped him.  Hard.  And then I ran away.  I ran to my car and drove off.  I headed for Kentucky, my childhood home.  He called the police.  I spent the night in jail.  

The bad thing is that this fight or flight just flooded me and I took no time to evaluate or heal.  This was right before our vacation to Boulder that we had planned.  Just 2 days before.  He wanted to go.  He said it would be healing.  I wasn’t convinced, but I trusted him.  

I made the mistake of not immediately going back on my medication or bringing it with me.  

So, there we were in beautiful Boulder, CO trying to come to grips with an awful situation.  We had a highly sensitive 3 year old that wasn’t adjusting well to his first vacation.  We were in a house with a weird energy, and then there was a snowstorm which would block any escape route I have because I’m a southern girl and a lot of snow just adds to my fear.  I was miserable.

I tried to keep my calm by reading and meditating, but it was awful.  I felt trapped, powerless, unsafe, and like I couldn’t escape.  My fear built and built with each additional negative interaction.  I kept asking to fly home early, and he tried to oblige.  There were no flights because of the snow.  

And I lost it.  My fear was so massive that it just overflowed.  My soul soda finally escaped and spewed everywhere.  Everywhere.  

I pushed him.  I shoved him.  My sweet baby saw it and shrieked.  I still can hear his cries.  It pierced my consciousness.  My poor husband grabbed him and went into the other room and shut the door.  

But I was lost.  Everything had shut down.  I was screaming.  I was raging.  I was trying to be as big and scary as I could be.  I’m small, but I can be fierce.  I wanted to be as threatening as I could possibly be, so everyone in the vicinity would know not to mess with me.  I threw things.  I pounded the walls.  

But all I could see and feel was the feeling of my wrists and body being held.  All I could see and feel was the complete level of helplessness I felt.  Everything within me was screaming “I AM NOT SAFE.”  Even though I was.  I was safe.  

Our brains are funny.  They do weird things to us.  We often block ourselves from the best possible outcome.  I was resisting my safety that I already had because of the unresolved trauma.  

He called the police again.  I went to jail for quite awhile longer this time around.  And, well, Colorado took this a bit more seriously than Tennessee.  Their laws require no contact with the spouse or child.  I haven’t spoken to either of them in over two weeks.  

All I can do is take a deep breath and pull out the mop to try and clean up the soul soda.  It is a huge mess to clean up.  

I’m grateful all the same.  I’m lucky to be able to see the mess I created and how it got that way.  I’m grateful that I’ve not had to go hungry or sleep in my car.  I’m grateful I’ve had nothing but love and support from so many people, even though I only told pieces as I’ve tried to figure this out.  

But here is the whole truth.  Exactly as it is.  This is exactly where I am in this moment.  I am sitting in Starbucks with my life in my car waiting for a haircut and not real certain where I will be sleeping tonight.  

But I have the broom closet open.  I’m pulling out the mop and the sponges.  I am working on cleaning up the mess. It is a very big mess that has left a sticky soul soda residue on many, many people.  

Family Enmeshment

I keep going back and forth on whether or not I should return to school to do post graduate work in Marriage and Family Therapy.  It’s very tempting since I live so close to some world renowned universities.  It would only require an additional year of education, and I truly do love the work.  I struggle carrying heavy caseloads that require an emotional lack of presence to prevent burnout, though.  For now, my work is in raising my own beautiful children.

When I did attend graduate school (Master of Social Work), I took several MFT courses as electives, knowing this would be the logical next step in my career.  They were, by far, my favorite classes.

One family dynamic, and really an overarching relationship dynamic, that stuck with me is “enmeshment.”  In my work as a child therapist it was something that I saw repeatedly.  In my life as a stay at home mother, I continue to see it often, though my role now is only an observer.  Most play dates aren’t a good place to present therapeutic observations.  

The friend that I mentioned in my previous post, INFJ Door Slam, was an “enmeshed” adult and tried to continue this pattern in her relationships, me included.  I’m grateful that I can often stand still in a world that surrounds me with chaos.  My boundary setting happened often and clearly.

So what is “enmeshment?”  In a nutshell, it is where someone tries to blur what identifies their personal identity with another person to create a codependent relationship.

Don’t get me wrong. Acknowledging the interdependent nature of humans is crucial to personal happiness. One cannot be fully independent, nor can they be fully enmeshed and be healthy. Isn’t that everyone’s goal? We all strive for emotional and physical health on some level.

This is often seen in marriages, close friendships, and in the parent/child relationship.  In marriages, the individual insists themselves and their partner share all aspects of life forcing each to lose the core aspects of what makes them an individual. The same dynamic can also happen in any dyadic group of adults.  It creates a constant power struggle.

Since my background, though, exists primarily in children, this is where I focus my astute observations.  It often occurs with the most well meaning of parents, but they are projecting their own unmet childhood needs for healthy attachment onto their children.  Ideally, we observe our children, their needs, and act accordingly.  When we fail to parent from a place of concsiousness this line gets heavily blurred.

So in what ways do parents “enmesh” with their children?

1. Their children are not viewed as “independent souls” with their own strengths, weaknesses, and life goals.

These parents often “manage” their children.  They decide the child’s haircuts, clothing, extracurriculars, etc. often citing “parent knows best” when in reality the parent is treating the child how they wished to be treated as children.  They fail to see that their own child is, in all reality, a separate human being.

2. The child is the parent’s “special friend.”

I see this in adults who lack a close adult friend that they can confide in.  Usually their marriage is volatile or they are a single parent.  This parent burdens the child with their adult topics.  Children are in a cognitive world very different from that of adults.  They cannot grasp things in the way other adults do.

These children have two options.  They can internalize or externalize their exposure to a world they don’t understand.  This is seen in children who report frequent psychosomatic complaints: stomach aches, headaches, poor appetite, etc.  They are asking for relief from this role by becoming “physically ill.”  Those that externalize, change the topic of something they don’t understand into something they do: emotional rages, property destruction, general defiance, etc.

3. The parent expects perfection out of their child because they have the same expectation out of themselves.

This child is condemned for having strong emotions or poor performances.  There is no relief for this child.  Either they perform as expected or the consequences are dire.  This child lives in a constant state of fear.  Eventually it transforms into being internalized or externalized in the same way described above.

Usually parents who choose to enmesh with their children are repeating the roles they lived as children with their own parents.

How does one break free from this cycle?  They live in consciousness, awareness, and presence with their children.

Some great ways to do this is to create daily parenting affirmations, such as:

1. I parent my children with presence and awareness.

2. I love my children for who they are, not who I want them to be.

3. I understand what motivates my behavior as a parent.

I am presently an imperfect mother.  I imagine that once I reach true perfection, I will dissipate into particles and float away on the wind, start levitating in the air, or start radiating light.  I am anxiously awaiting that day.  Until then, I make grievous mistakes as a parent, learn, and grow. My prayer is that each of you continue on this path as well.

Wholistic Home and Whole Self

I am here to share my (W)holistic Home journey.

My path to health has been arduous, but rewarding.  It has required intense discipline, resiliency, and love.

It has and is worth every precious second I have been gifted with in this path.  I feel that it is important to share it with others.

My path to emotional and physical health really began years ago, but I started taking it very seriously this past year.  Thirty is looming and a frightening percentage of my family do not make it to their 50’s.  With that in mind, I quickly came to the realization that it is a very real possibility that I have passed my midlife point.

In the past year I have lost over 40 pounds.  I have radically changed my diet and exercise habits.  I have set firm and clear boundaries, both with myself and others.  I have nurtured my spiritual self.  I have reset my life’s priorities.  I have attempted, to the best of my ability, to support my husband.  I have committed to homeschooling my children.  I make every effort to be present in each fleeting moment.

The biggest change I have made?  I have promised to love myself in my life.

I am now ready to share the remainder of my journey on creating a Wholistic Home and a whole self.

The backbone of this will be our Nourishing Traditions and homeschooling journey over the next year.  Thank you for sharing it with me.