Saturday, July 28
A Rose is a Rose is a Rose « Karen di Bee
Check out my latest blog post—A Rose is a Rose is a Rose « Karen di Bee
Tuesday, January 5
Let the groundhog come out to play
OK, you've all been bugging me about my lack of blogging... it's hard for me to blog when I'm going through difficult times... I'm not of this generation which bares all. I've always been a big journal writer, so I know the therapeutic aspects of writing. It's just hard for me to share what is so personal. But I will try.
Experiencing grief can really wrench your soul. I've gone through the different "stages" since last Spring when my life changed... at first there was numbness and shock. Then so much hurt and so many feelings of abandonment. Then there were months of anger... I chose to let myself feel all of it. I don't believe in stuffing feelings. I believe you have to let yourself feel and experience all that life brings you. I believe it's the only way to heal and keep moving on. It is so so wrenching... but I hope worth it if I really can move on from this and live a full life again.
The last months I've moved out of anger, and into depression; I think the hardest part of all. What is the right way to handle this? Some would say, "get up, gird up you loins, push yourself, act as if..." I keep wondering, do I need to LET myself feel depression, same as the way I've LET myself feel hurt and anger? I really don't know what is right or best. But regardless of whether it is the best thing to do, I have let myself feel it, without self-condemnation (well, SOMETIMES without self-condemnation...) I've sunk deep, slept days away, cried more, mourned all the loss. I guess this could be dangerous... but luckily I have friends and family who have helped me not to sink too deep.
Some say that the last step of grief is acceptance. That's my goal. I feel I am making steps towards it... I want to be able to accept my life. I want to be able to keep the good memories of an eleven year marriage, and to let go of the hurt and pain of the fact that it ended, not of my own choice. To forgive. I don't want to try and erase eleven years of my life... I know I was led by the Spirit to my marriage. I asked for a companion, and I was given one. I had great experiences, tender moments, support when I went through frightening cancer. The fact that there was good in the marriage in some ways has made getting over its end harder. But I want to be glad for that goodness, not bitter about it.
I've learned that our expectations of life, which we kind of take from a "mold", thinking that we should go through all the steps that everyone else goes through... grow up, get married, have children, grand-children... I've learned that it doesn't happen that way for everyone. And I'm one of those "everyone's." I don't understand the whys and becauses of it, but I know that for me the ANSWER is to accept, trust, and to live life. Live MY life, as it has come to me. Take what has been handed to me. Find and be thankful for all the joyful parts of it. Actively LIVE the joyful parts. Live with my choices. Live with others' choices, no matter the hurt that they might have inflicted.
I've learned these things, but getting an answer and living by it are two different things. I'm trying. I'm trying to move along, and I'm understanding that it is a process that I am somewhere in the midst of.
In just the past few days, I've been seeing bits of acceptance seeping in, along little cracks that exist in the divorced/lost/left behind part of my soul. I feel so lucky for that! I feel like I'm slowly moving out of this deep depression, seeing the sun again. I'm not totally there yet. I'm kind of like a groundhog, who peeps out at the day for a few minutes at a time, then retreats back for awhile until he is ready to really come out and play... But I can see and believe that it is coming my way. A life lived fully in the sun, lived in each moment as it comes, not in past darkness. I have faith once again that perhaps my life can be lived in wholeness again. I'm hoping for it. I'm choosing to believe in it. And I'm praying for the strength to make it happen.
Experiencing grief can really wrench your soul. I've gone through the different "stages" since last Spring when my life changed... at first there was numbness and shock. Then so much hurt and so many feelings of abandonment. Then there were months of anger... I chose to let myself feel all of it. I don't believe in stuffing feelings. I believe you have to let yourself feel and experience all that life brings you. I believe it's the only way to heal and keep moving on. It is so so wrenching... but I hope worth it if I really can move on from this and live a full life again.
The last months I've moved out of anger, and into depression; I think the hardest part of all. What is the right way to handle this? Some would say, "get up, gird up you loins, push yourself, act as if..." I keep wondering, do I need to LET myself feel depression, same as the way I've LET myself feel hurt and anger? I really don't know what is right or best. But regardless of whether it is the best thing to do, I have let myself feel it, without self-condemnation (well, SOMETIMES without self-condemnation...) I've sunk deep, slept days away, cried more, mourned all the loss. I guess this could be dangerous... but luckily I have friends and family who have helped me not to sink too deep.
Some say that the last step of grief is acceptance. That's my goal. I feel I am making steps towards it... I want to be able to accept my life. I want to be able to keep the good memories of an eleven year marriage, and to let go of the hurt and pain of the fact that it ended, not of my own choice. To forgive. I don't want to try and erase eleven years of my life... I know I was led by the Spirit to my marriage. I asked for a companion, and I was given one. I had great experiences, tender moments, support when I went through frightening cancer. The fact that there was good in the marriage in some ways has made getting over its end harder. But I want to be glad for that goodness, not bitter about it.
I've learned that our expectations of life, which we kind of take from a "mold", thinking that we should go through all the steps that everyone else goes through... grow up, get married, have children, grand-children... I've learned that it doesn't happen that way for everyone. And I'm one of those "everyone's." I don't understand the whys and becauses of it, but I know that for me the ANSWER is to accept, trust, and to live life. Live MY life, as it has come to me. Take what has been handed to me. Find and be thankful for all the joyful parts of it. Actively LIVE the joyful parts. Live with my choices. Live with others' choices, no matter the hurt that they might have inflicted.
I've learned these things, but getting an answer and living by it are two different things. I'm trying. I'm trying to move along, and I'm understanding that it is a process that I am somewhere in the midst of.
In just the past few days, I've been seeing bits of acceptance seeping in, along little cracks that exist in the divorced/lost/left behind part of my soul. I feel so lucky for that! I feel like I'm slowly moving out of this deep depression, seeing the sun again. I'm not totally there yet. I'm kind of like a groundhog, who peeps out at the day for a few minutes at a time, then retreats back for awhile until he is ready to really come out and play... But I can see and believe that it is coming my way. A life lived fully in the sun, lived in each moment as it comes, not in past darkness. I have faith once again that perhaps my life can be lived in wholeness again. I'm hoping for it. I'm choosing to believe in it. And I'm praying for the strength to make it happen.
Wednesday, September 16
Chili con queso dip saves all
Living in Utah again is very healing.
Having a divorce sprung on me back in May was, I'd have to say, the most shocking, unfathomable, jolting thing to happen in my life to this point. Finding out I had cancer back in 2004 was so mild in comparison. I was married, sealed, loyal, and dedicated to this person. Many things in our 10 year life had been hard to navigate through, but it was second-nature to me to stick to it. What else would I do but stick by this person? I stuck by him through some pretty hard times too. He had a knack for making bad, un-thought out decisions and choices. But, I always figured it was his time for learning just like the rest of us, and I would live through the consequences and keep loving.
He stuck by me through cancer. A year of treatment, and another year of recovery... I loved him even more for that. And I just thought we would always be there for each other. Isn't that what marriage is?
So to hear -- suddenly -- that he didn't want to be married to me any longer... that he wanted children now, after I went through years of the pain of not getting pregnant, and after him never showing interest in adopting... and a list of other humiliating, hurtful things... (Of course there was the new woman, with ready-made child in tow looming before him.)
Needless to say there have been numb moments, falling moments, screaming moments. Crying times like when you have the flu and you've lost everything in your stomach, and all you can do is heave convulsions of involuntary air. Over and over again, but nothing more will come. It is spent. No more tears, no more sobs, no more feeling to give. It reminds me of Al Pacino in the 3rd Godfather movie, when his daughter is shot to death. Everything goes silent and his mouth and face opens into an agonizing scream. But no sound comes out. All you can hear is silence, but the silence is loud and crashing. Deafening. It's like all your senses shut down leaving a huge void leaving no space for anything -- except silent pain. You can't breathe in -- you've pushed all your breathe out, and now you can't find your life-giving oxygen and it feels like death is near.
Oh yes, I've felt all of this. But then I've also had thin-veil moments of inspiration, foresight, and the ability to see from a broader perspective. To see happiness and joy ahead. I've felt a comforting blanket over me, bringing me warmth and safety. These have been intermittent with the more painful times, and they've occupied a smaller portion of my time... but I am so thankful for them. They have kept me going.
I know the importance of healing, and I know the elements needed to heal. I've let myself feel the anger, and I've lashed out and felt everything that needed to wash over me and through me. I've allowed myself to feel these things, so I could let them come out, fill up over me, wash over me, and then drain out to leave room for more joyful feelings. It would be nice if that was a one-time process, but instead it happens over and over. Kind of like washing a big ol' dirty blanket over and over, and I guess one of these times I'll come out fresh and like new again.
Coming back to my old home, Utah, has been so healing. Having the companionship of my two dogs has been priceless... My sister near, my nieces, my friends, the not-Arizona-hot summer with green grass out my balcony, sprinklers at night, my cozy postage-stamp apartment, the view of the mountains out my back door, summer walks with my dogs, and of course, finally, the Smith's chili con queso dip that is only found in Utah! THAT was the highlight of coming back here! HA HA of course. Dip does not make for joy, but it sure is nice to have a little pleasure during this time of healing.
Having a divorce sprung on me back in May was, I'd have to say, the most shocking, unfathomable, jolting thing to happen in my life to this point. Finding out I had cancer back in 2004 was so mild in comparison. I was married, sealed, loyal, and dedicated to this person. Many things in our 10 year life had been hard to navigate through, but it was second-nature to me to stick to it. What else would I do but stick by this person? I stuck by him through some pretty hard times too. He had a knack for making bad, un-thought out decisions and choices. But, I always figured it was his time for learning just like the rest of us, and I would live through the consequences and keep loving.
He stuck by me through cancer. A year of treatment, and another year of recovery... I loved him even more for that. And I just thought we would always be there for each other. Isn't that what marriage is?
So to hear -- suddenly -- that he didn't want to be married to me any longer... that he wanted children now, after I went through years of the pain of not getting pregnant, and after him never showing interest in adopting... and a list of other humiliating, hurtful things... (Of course there was the new woman, with ready-made child in tow looming before him.)
Needless to say there have been numb moments, falling moments, screaming moments. Crying times like when you have the flu and you've lost everything in your stomach, and all you can do is heave convulsions of involuntary air. Over and over again, but nothing more will come. It is spent. No more tears, no more sobs, no more feeling to give. It reminds me of Al Pacino in the 3rd Godfather movie, when his daughter is shot to death. Everything goes silent and his mouth and face opens into an agonizing scream. But no sound comes out. All you can hear is silence, but the silence is loud and crashing. Deafening. It's like all your senses shut down leaving a huge void leaving no space for anything -- except silent pain. You can't breathe in -- you've pushed all your breathe out, and now you can't find your life-giving oxygen and it feels like death is near.
Oh yes, I've felt all of this. But then I've also had thin-veil moments of inspiration, foresight, and the ability to see from a broader perspective. To see happiness and joy ahead. I've felt a comforting blanket over me, bringing me warmth and safety. These have been intermittent with the more painful times, and they've occupied a smaller portion of my time... but I am so thankful for them. They have kept me going.
I know the importance of healing, and I know the elements needed to heal. I've let myself feel the anger, and I've lashed out and felt everything that needed to wash over me and through me. I've allowed myself to feel these things, so I could let them come out, fill up over me, wash over me, and then drain out to leave room for more joyful feelings. It would be nice if that was a one-time process, but instead it happens over and over. Kind of like washing a big ol' dirty blanket over and over, and I guess one of these times I'll come out fresh and like new again.
Coming back to my old home, Utah, has been so healing. Having the companionship of my two dogs has been priceless... My sister near, my nieces, my friends, the not-Arizona-hot summer with green grass out my balcony, sprinklers at night, my cozy postage-stamp apartment, the view of the mountains out my back door, summer walks with my dogs, and of course, finally, the Smith's chili con queso dip that is only found in Utah! THAT was the highlight of coming back here! HA HA of course. Dip does not make for joy, but it sure is nice to have a little pleasure during this time of healing.
Friday, September 11
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