Day 9: Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
I've been pondering this one for a few days. I couldn't come up with just one person. What I came up with is that I didn't let go of anyone. I let them just drift away.
I have a very hard time making friends. I'm sure some of the readers of this blog who don't adore me yet would say that it's because I'm angry and bitter and need to be prayed for. The truth is, I think that people find me awkward in social situations...and therefore, I don't get invited out a lot. And because I'm afraid that people find me awkward, I don't call anyone up to see if they want to hang out. Vicious cycle, yes?
My whole thing is, I can't allow myself to get close enough to people because they always leave or hurt me. It's worked to protect my fragile soul so far...but it definitely isn't conducive to forming long term friendships. I live behind a wall of my own building and am unsure of how, or even whether it's safe, to knock it down.
Showing posts with label 30 Days of Truth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 30 Days of Truth. Show all posts
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
30 Days of Truth: Day Eight
Day 8: Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like {poo}.
This was a difficult one for me. I was going to take the easy way out and choose one of my ex-boyfriends, or one of the mean girls or boys in high school. But that wouldn't be pushing myself. And for me, that's what this challenge is all about. Pushing myself...hard.
That doesn't mean, however, that I'll be able to write much for this post. I have my limits. Instead, I'll post a picture and let you draw your own conclusions as to why I chose this person. If you've been following along on my blog for any length of time, it shouldn't be that difficult to figure out.
This was a difficult one for me. I was going to take the easy way out and choose one of my ex-boyfriends, or one of the mean girls or boys in high school. But that wouldn't be pushing myself. And for me, that's what this challenge is all about. Pushing myself...hard.
That doesn't mean, however, that I'll be able to write much for this post. I have my limits. Instead, I'll post a picture and let you draw your own conclusions as to why I chose this person. If you've been following along on my blog for any length of time, it shouldn't be that difficult to figure out.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day Seven
Day 7: Someone who has made your life worth living for.
They have taught me...
how to make the silliest faces.
how to enjoy turning cartwheels in the grass during the summer.
how to snuggle.
how to be patient.
how to find wonder in the smallest things.
how to discipline without being abusive.
how jumping on the bed singing Hannah Montana is actually really fun.
how to laugh at myself.
how to trust another person unconditionally.
how to love.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day Six
Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.
I have already done something I hoped to never do....suffered a miscarriage. I wasn't very far along in the pregnancy, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I think about that child to this day, he or she would be fourteen years old now.
But like many of the other participants, my true answer to this one is a simple one. I hope never to bury a child.
My amother told me the below story in its entirety while I was pregnant with Madelyn. I wish she hadn't.
Back in the mid 60's, my a-uncle and a-aunt had a baby...their first child. She was eight months old and was napping in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' house while a family barbecue was going on. My aunt went inside to check on her and moments later started screaming. From what my amother said, the screams were the worst she'd ever heard.
Both of my uncles rushed into the house to see what was going on and they found my aunt holding my limp cousin out to my uncle. He performed CPR (or whatever it was called back in the 60's) on the baby but she was already gone. Not sure if SIDS was recognized back then, but that is most likely what claimed her life.
We used to drive past her tiny grave on our way to the family plot for the yearly flower planting and I've often wonder how my a-aunt survived the loss of that baby. Just horrifying.
I have already done something I hoped to never do....suffered a miscarriage. I wasn't very far along in the pregnancy, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I think about that child to this day, he or she would be fourteen years old now.
But like many of the other participants, my true answer to this one is a simple one. I hope never to bury a child.
My amother told me the below story in its entirety while I was pregnant with Madelyn. I wish she hadn't.
Back in the mid 60's, my a-uncle and a-aunt had a baby...their first child. She was eight months old and was napping in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' house while a family barbecue was going on. My aunt went inside to check on her and moments later started screaming. From what my amother said, the screams were the worst she'd ever heard.
Both of my uncles rushed into the house to see what was going on and they found my aunt holding my limp cousin out to my uncle. He performed CPR (or whatever it was called back in the 60's) on the baby but she was already gone. Not sure if SIDS was recognized back then, but that is most likely what claimed her life.
We used to drive past her tiny grave on our way to the family plot for the yearly flower planting and I've often wonder how my a-aunt survived the loss of that baby. Just horrifying.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day Four
Day 4: Something you have to forgive someone for.
I don't know whether this person's spouse is reading my blog, so I'm going to keep this as brief as possible. (If she is, I hope she understands why I am writing about the situation on this post...strictly in the name of healing).
I've done things I'm not proud of in my life. And one of those things was sleeping with my son's father on the first date.
Phew.
Still here?
I've forgiven myself for that. It happened, we were together through my pregnancy and then we broke up (I'm grateful for that because things got VERY messy at the end) when Chase was 3 months old.
What I have to forgive my ex for is his disrespect to me as a person, and as the mother of his son.
He posted a Myspace profile when things were particularly rough between us after he returned from a 3 year fathering hiatus with a new wife and daughter in tow...I was angry at his nonchalent attitude towards our son and he was angry because he believed I had kept him from Chase.
It was bad enough that the url for the page ended in "fuckucw"...but the profile picture he posted made my blood boil.
After things had gotten better and more civil between us, he removed the picture and deleted most of the page's content..but the hurt remains..even all these years later. I know, I know...just one more thing I should just "get over". And I'm trying. But some days the shame just washes over me like a tsunami.
I don't know whether this person's spouse is reading my blog, so I'm going to keep this as brief as possible. (If she is, I hope she understands why I am writing about the situation on this post...strictly in the name of healing).
I've done things I'm not proud of in my life. And one of those things was sleeping with my son's father on the first date.
Phew.
Still here?
I've forgiven myself for that. It happened, we were together through my pregnancy and then we broke up (I'm grateful for that because things got VERY messy at the end) when Chase was 3 months old.
What I have to forgive my ex for is his disrespect to me as a person, and as the mother of his son.
He posted a Myspace profile when things were particularly rough between us after he returned from a 3 year fathering hiatus with a new wife and daughter in tow...I was angry at his nonchalent attitude towards our son and he was angry because he believed I had kept him from Chase.
It was bad enough that the url for the page ended in "fuckucw"...but the profile picture he posted made my blood boil.
After things had gotten better and more civil between us, he removed the picture and deleted most of the page's content..but the hurt remains..even all these years later. I know, I know...just one more thing I should just "get over". And I'm trying. But some days the shame just washes over me like a tsunami.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day Three
Hmmm...
Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.
When I was a teenager, I wrote in a journal. Stupid stuff usually, nothing too deep because thinking about the deep stuff would have surely driven me crazy. But I remember a lot of times, just filling up the pages with the words, "I hate myself". Over and over and over. I'd look at myself in the mirror and just cry, wondering why I wasn't pretty...wondering why I wasn't good enough for any of the kids in school to be my friend. Page after page I'd write those words and then I'd read them back outloud. Sobbing and alone, I built a wall up around myself, locking my scarred soul away like a captive in a dungeon.
I want to forgive myself for that hate. I want to fill up a journal with the words, "I love myself".
Hopefully someday that will happen.
I'm not there yet.
Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.
When I was a teenager, I wrote in a journal. Stupid stuff usually, nothing too deep because thinking about the deep stuff would have surely driven me crazy. But I remember a lot of times, just filling up the pages with the words, "I hate myself". Over and over and over. I'd look at myself in the mirror and just cry, wondering why I wasn't pretty...wondering why I wasn't good enough for any of the kids in school to be my friend. Page after page I'd write those words and then I'd read them back outloud. Sobbing and alone, I built a wall up around myself, locking my scarred soul away like a captive in a dungeon.
I want to forgive myself for that hate. I want to fill up a journal with the words, "I love myself".
Hopefully someday that will happen.
I'm not there yet.
Friday, January 14, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day Two
Yesterday's post...easy peasy. I could have come up with a gazillion billion things that I dislike about myself..but today's prompt is a gazillion billion times a little harder.
Day 2: Something you love about yourself.
Ummmm...yeah. ::whistles while staring up at the ceiling::
When I was a child, I was abused. Emotionally, mentally, physically and sexually. I survived.
When I was an infant, just six days old, I was given up for adoption. I survived.
When I was thirteen months old, I contracted Reye's Syndrome and was in a coma for four days and in the hospital for eight days. I survived.
On the first day of junior high school, my best friend of six years stopped talking to me. I survived.
Kids in school taunted and teased me mercilessly. I survived.
When I was pregnant with Chase, Madelyn (eighteen months old at the time) and I were in a car accident that totaled my car. I survived.
When I was pregnant with Madelyn, I choked on a sandwich and turned blue. I survived.
Madelyn's biological father left me when I was three months pregnant because he wasn't ready to be a father. I survived.
Chase's biological father abused me emotionally and took advantage of my fragile heart. I survived.
I got the shock of my life on July 11, 2008 when I was found by my natural mother on Myspace. I survived.
I began experiencing flashbacks of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my afather in August of 2009. I survived.
I found out that a close relative has a chronic illness that will one day take their life. I survived.
I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to write this post. I survived.
I am a survivor. I love that about myself.
Day 2: Something you love about yourself.
Ummmm...yeah. ::whistles while staring up at the ceiling::
When I was a child, I was abused. Emotionally, mentally, physically and sexually. I survived.
When I was an infant, just six days old, I was given up for adoption. I survived.
When I was thirteen months old, I contracted Reye's Syndrome and was in a coma for four days and in the hospital for eight days. I survived.
On the first day of junior high school, my best friend of six years stopped talking to me. I survived.
Kids in school taunted and teased me mercilessly. I survived.
When I was pregnant with Chase, Madelyn (eighteen months old at the time) and I were in a car accident that totaled my car. I survived.
When I was pregnant with Madelyn, I choked on a sandwich and turned blue. I survived.
Madelyn's biological father left me when I was three months pregnant because he wasn't ready to be a father. I survived.
Chase's biological father abused me emotionally and took advantage of my fragile heart. I survived.
I got the shock of my life on July 11, 2008 when I was found by my natural mother on Myspace. I survived.
I began experiencing flashbacks of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my afather in August of 2009. I survived.
I found out that a close relative has a chronic illness that will one day take their life. I survived.
I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to write this post. I survived.
I am a survivor. I love that about myself.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
30 Days of Truth ~ Day One
I know that I gave her a Blog of Shame award...but I'm actually turning my thinking around about Laura of "The Lola Letters" fame. I honestly think it's admirable that she was able to acknowledge that maybe her words had hurt, rather than helped...something I work on figuring out every day.
Laura is doing the "30 Days of Truth" challenge. I think it was supposed to be 30 weeks, but honestly, I sometimes forget to put on deodorant..do you really think I'd be able to stick to 30 weeks of posting???
And so, I'm starting today, with Day One.
Day 1: Something you dislike about yourself.
I dislike the fact that I stutter. Haven't talked about that in awhile, but I'm bringing it to the forefront right now. I haven't answered the house phone in years, unless I know who it is. Truthfully, I have some sort of "block" on the word "Hello". A simple word really. And one that I can say in normal conversation, but call me on the phone and I block.
Blocking means that I pick up the phone and cannot physically say the word "Hello". Weird? Yep. I know. That's what frustrates me the most. It's just so random and awkward. 9 times out of 10 I let the call go to voicemail. The tenth time, I switch it up and say, "Hi, this is Christina" instead.
Speaking of "Christina", I can't say that either. If I'm in a group of people and we're all introducing ourselves, the logical thing would be to just say your name while shaking the person's hand. Nope, not me. I have to say, "My name is Christina". Drives me batshit. I hate social situations in which I'm trapped into speaking. That's when my anxiety is at its highest.
Why does this happen to me? Why does my heart start to race when the phone rings or when I have to say my name? No clue. But again, it drives me crazy and just adds to my feeling of self-loathing.
Have you cringed yet? I hope not. I'm learning that it's just something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life..it's part of what makes me, well, ME. I can't change it, might as well learn to live with it.
Laura is doing the "30 Days of Truth" challenge. I think it was supposed to be 30 weeks, but honestly, I sometimes forget to put on deodorant..do you really think I'd be able to stick to 30 weeks of posting???
And so, I'm starting today, with Day One.
Day 1: Something you dislike about yourself.
I dislike the fact that I stutter. Haven't talked about that in awhile, but I'm bringing it to the forefront right now. I haven't answered the house phone in years, unless I know who it is. Truthfully, I have some sort of "block" on the word "Hello". A simple word really. And one that I can say in normal conversation, but call me on the phone and I block.
Blocking means that I pick up the phone and cannot physically say the word "Hello". Weird? Yep. I know. That's what frustrates me the most. It's just so random and awkward. 9 times out of 10 I let the call go to voicemail. The tenth time, I switch it up and say, "Hi, this is Christina" instead.
Speaking of "Christina", I can't say that either. If I'm in a group of people and we're all introducing ourselves, the logical thing would be to just say your name while shaking the person's hand. Nope, not me. I have to say, "My name is Christina". Drives me batshit. I hate social situations in which I'm trapped into speaking. That's when my anxiety is at its highest.
Why does this happen to me? Why does my heart start to race when the phone rings or when I have to say my name? No clue. But again, it drives me crazy and just adds to my feeling of self-loathing.
Have you cringed yet? I hope not. I'm learning that it's just something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life..it's part of what makes me, well, ME. I can't change it, might as well learn to live with it.
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