Forgive What Didn’t Happen

I partook of a Facebook Live event where a Jonna Maynard, courtesy of Tom Collins, spoke on forgiveness.

The phrase Jonna quoted on forgiveness really struck a chord with me. It was “Forgive what didn’t happen”. Sounds a little odd at first, right? As she was explaining it the situation with my in-laws kept playing through my head and the phrase kept repeating through the in numerous hurtful experiences.

“Forgive what didn’t happen.”

Forgive the emotional needs that weren’t met.
Forgive the expectation that weren’t met.
Forgive the standards that weren’t met.
Forgive the communications that didn’t happen.
Forgive the the emotional intelligence or ability required to have a healthy relationship that wasn’t cultivated.

I have tried to do a lot of forgiving over the years. I have tried to maintain and stick to healthy boundaries for my family and I. This phrase put into perspective how my focus had been on forgiving things that were unforgivable in my mind because they weren’t changing. I wa trying to forgive the results of the underlying issues and incapabilities. And it is against my nature to forgive offenses that I know will keep happening because I was taught that forgiveness means treating someone as if they never hurt me and I knew the hurting was going to keep on coming.

I was trying to cope with symptoms of a toxin that was/is poisoning already difficult relationships. The “toxin” being something that may very well be beyond the capabilities of the people involved. This does not mean I am going to allow myself and my family to be mistreated, but the shifting of the focus has completely changed the way I look at these relationships.

The emotional release after this eureka moment was palpable. It literally was a physical and chemical shift in though my entire system when I was able to “let go” of what was truly wrong, the root of it all.

I really just wanted to share this all. Not necessarily with anyone in particular, but with anything outside of my own being.

Hope is Possible

I really just want to share something. My husband is military and was unexpectedly out of communication for a while, that while being over Mother’s Day. Leading up to and over Mother’s Day it seemed like everyone I knew was announcing they were expecting and, while I was happy for them, it was a little heart-wrenching because my husband had always wanted a whole gaggle of kids and that’s just not something I could physically give him. 

I wrote him a short email basically just saying I wish I could be/give him everything he wanted in life and out of the blue I get a response back: “what more could I ever ask for?”. 
Instantaneous balling. We have had so many struggles with the fibromyalgia and other health concerns that my body just blew up with starting 4 yrs ago that to hear him say that meant more than anything in the world.

We have had some drop-dead serious arguments about my “illness” and whether it was real or not, that I just needed to find a doctor who could fix me, to even talking about divorce because he felt like he couldn’t deal with me not being who he married.

Despite all the fights we still loved each other and still wanted it to work and have been trying so hard to work to make it work.

I know not everyone gets “happy endings” but this little bit of hope is out there. It’s possible. It’s possible for someone to love me as who I am now. 

Things I’ve Realized

I’ve realized a few things this week…

  • I don’t spend as much time with friends who knew me before my fibro “fully activated,” not just because they don’t understand how I could be so different but because of the constant reminder they are of how I used to be.
  • I am afraid to make plans or plan for more than one event in a day because I don’t know how exhausted I’ll be.
  • At this point, I blame myself for not being the parent I want to be more than the kids hold it against me. Something about the wisdom of children…
  • Things with my husband are difficult because, in lots of ways, he blames not just me for being sick, but also himself for not being able to “make me better”.
  • Every time something goes wrong, I have kind of a catastrophic response. Not because it feels like this “one more” thing is the end of the world but because every one more thing feels like the end of the world. It’s not just the culmination of everything but the individual things feel big, too. It didn’t use to be this way.
  • My initial reaction since I was a child was to believe that it was my fault, even if it was something beyond my control. This has had me adding so much more stress to my life than there really should be. It’s not just a boundaries issue but a self-expectation issue, too.
  • I’ve always been idealistic, not accepting things as they are but striving for things to be as they should be. While this is healthy, to a degree, it also ties in with unrealistic self-expectations. I can’t keep expecting myself to do what I used to be able to do, I need to accept what I can do now and gently, gently, work towards improving upon that and not stop trying to get back to what I used to be. You can’t progress backward.
  • I need to reach out to people who understand my situation. For those who are family and don’t understand I need to stop running from them so much and try, I don’t know, giving them a pamphlet or something to help them understand. The best thing would be to let them see how it affects me, but only those with an open mind would understand that way. The pain, the exhaustion, so much of it is invisible, but I need to try to help those that want to understand.

One Week Gone

This past week has been a really difficult one… ended up in the ER again, which caused so many problems, and we’ve had problems with housing, and the owner of the dog we’re dogsitting (it went from 6months to who knows when the fuck they’re going to pick him up if they pick him up), to other doctor and health stuff, and family stuff, and spouse stuff. Just one hell of a hell of a week.

The kids and I cuddled up to watch Beauty and the Beast last night, which led to them singing Tale As Old As Time while in bed. Such a happy memory after such an unhappy week. I’m glad the weekend is here and that my kids are having one of their “get along” days thus far. I seriously just need lots and lots of cuddles right now.

Once everything has calmed down I’m going to be starting some new fibromyalgia meds, so I’m pretty nervous and excited about that. My psychologist gave me some homework, in chatting about what had been going on this past week with her she said I reminded her of “Sebastian and the Magic Pebble” and “Brave Irene”. While Sebastian drew a blank, Brave Irene sounded slightly familiar, but I’ve googled them up and am going to read some digital copies of these children’s books I reminded her of. Hopefully, they’ll be encouraging to my “I overthink everything” brain. lol

Part of me feels really overwhelmed, part of me is feeling stubborn and driven, and part of me is just lost. Same old, same old. I’m sleeping better, which is a huge plus.

Thank you, Blank Page, for listening and letting me filter stuff. Thank you, any readers who have continued to keep up with me despite my chaotic and overly emotional postings.

I am continuing to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. I refuse to just give up and let this disease win, to let Life win, but I am also trying so carefully to abide by the new boundaries my body has set up for/against me. I am trying to heal, I am trying to build strength, and I am trying to be better.

Another Day Bites the Dust

Had a rough night. I’ve been running along that knife edge of “okay” and “panic attack” the last few days after the kids and I having been sick the last three weeks. There’s been a lot of bad news this past week and it finally broke me down tonight, full on bawling mode. I’m feeling a little calmer now, I suppose, but it’s hard to watch things going the way they’re going and not be able to physically contribute financially.

I’m just so glad today is over right now. I could not take one more thing going wrong or getting one more piece of bad news today. At least, not without bawling again and that just burns. Literally, my tears burn my skin. Yay auto-immune crap…

The good news is my eldest FINALLY seems to be on the mend.Once we got him started on antibiotics he started coughing up brown and green phlegm even though the doc said his lungs were clear, so…. it seems the antibiotics are clearing his lungs anyways, I guess? It takes a lot to get him down and admit he’s sick so I am so glad he’s feeling better.

Saw the rheumatologist again yesterday, that’s a doctor’s office I always enter with trepidation, it was hopefully good news and the results will hopefully not have ridiculous side effects like the last time.

I cried through another counseling appointment today, too. I guess I finally connected the dots on why this diagnosis/existence has been so hard for me to come to terms with. Anyone who has heard about my past knows there is a lot of heartache between my mother and I. Well, the mother she chose to be is the mother I feel like my body is forcing me to be and every mental and spiritual fiber of my being has been bucking this new existence of mine as unacceptable because of that, until now, subconscious correlation. I didn’t even realize it until several hours after it had come out of my mouth and then… there it was, it all suddenly made so much sense.

The counselor made a great analogy about my mind and my emotions. I’m like a kitchen sink. When you stack too many dishes in the sink you can’t run any water to get things clean without it spilling out all over. My emotions are the water and the dishes are all of the things I am having to deal with in my life. Dishes… of course, DISHES would make utter sense in my head. It’s a sad sort of hilarity.

Overall it really was a pretty good day. It was just the compounding of bad news and typical life crap that hit all at once right at the end of it. As determined as my kids are to send me to an early grave, I love them and can’t wait to look back and laugh at their antics one day. Like their father was laughing about them tonight from way far away.

I’m going to be okay. I know that. It’s hard to believe it sometimes, but I will be. I pushed myself my whole life so that I would be enough, so that “it” (whatever it was) wouldn’t be my fault so that I would always be the best me I could be and always keep improving upon myself to be better. My body seems to be telling me I pushed too far for too long.

Battle fatigue, I suppose. Yeah, that’s what I’ll call it. That sounds so much more valiant than what the doctors call it all.
I’m not sick, I’m recovering from battle.
Yeah, I like that better.

Golden Lessons

The topic of assisted suicide came up in an episode of Golden Girls I’m watching tonight. I’ve always been on the fence about assisted suicide for people who are in uncontrollable, unending pain or other slow death.

Now that I’m a member of that “incurable chronic pain” statistic it makes me think about it a little more when prompted. The lesson in the show was to be there for those  who need you so they don’t feel the need to off themselves. 

Still, what about those who are walking through a tunnel without a light at the end? Maybe I was a morbid child, but being sick so often I always thought I’d die young from an illness but, if I had my choice, I’d want to die in a way that was making a difference to the world.
Here I am… older than I ever thought I would be, with even more things wrong with me than when I was a child.

And now I have kids of my own… and even with the pain I’m always in, even though it would be so much easier to just let go, i can’t beat the thought of leaving my children. No child should have to grow up without a parent.

I suppose it comes back to the same question that permeates so many decisions: to do what is easy or to do what is right?

The Secret Keeper’s Writing Prompt #85

My first attempt at one of one of The Secret Keeper‘s writing prompts, #85 to be precise. The Challenge Words were: | SCORE | SLEEP | FREE | CALM | ESCAPE |


The dream scored the senses into the flesh but the soul still wasn’t sticking. It wanted to be free. It didn’t want to stay in the body. It wanted to escape.

The sensations flared again as another reality seared its way through the mind, snatching at the soul. The body laid calm and still as the soul bucked and shied away.

This world burned. This reality was pain. The soul was too strong to stay tethered to this weak little cage.

But… then… they knew. So they tore it. They took infinity and divided it and pushed the broken bits into the bodies. They sewed the tattered edges into the mind and pinned it down through the veins.

Now you know why something is missing. They took you from yourself.

But because you are still you, if you find the rest of you, then you’re even more you than you were before.