This one is hard...not really sure why. I'm hard on myself in general. I think it's a family trait. Good is never good enough, it must be better, preferably best. I "hyper-focus" to the point of driving myself crazy. Forgiving myself is, therefore, immensely difficult.
I'm sure the list of things I need to forgive myself for is very long...I just honestly have no clue what is on it. I'm always focusing more on what I need to do for others than what I should be doing for myself - and that includes the forgiveness category.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
30 Days of Truth - Day 2
Something you love about yourself
This one is so much easier to swallow on the verbage end...yet so much more difficult to answer...
I love my eyes. They actually change color. A friend in high school called them "mood eyes". When I'm happy or neutral (their "natural" color) they are blue...the kind of blue that newborn babies eyes look like complete with a permanent grey-blue ring around the outside. When I'm angry, they turn green and according to those who have seen me REALLY ticked off, they sometimes go back to blue and pick up a purplish hue. When I'm sick, they turn grey and get lighter and lighter until it looks almost like there is no pigment there and just a ring around the iris. They're pretty cool. They also do really weird things according to optometrists that fascinates them. My photo receptors fire all at once unlike most likely everyone reading this. I also have a scar in the center of one eye on the pupil that always looks like a fresh scratch.
However, on a deeper level...which is what this is all supposed to be about anyway...
I love the following:
My sense of humor (which sometimes no one gets). It's quirky and uniquely me. I love to make people laugh - friends, family, strangers. Laughter is a universal feeling and an expression of a universal emotion...happiness. We need more happiness in this world and I do my very best to do my part in increasing our happiness quotient by adding copious amounts of laughter to the globe.
My immense ability to love and forgive. Yup - sappy time. Anyone who knows me well knows that it literally takes me hardly any time at all to get over most things. For example, recently a friend stepped over the line in asking me to do things and I was angry as hell about it. (Hint - I'm Italian...when I blow it's Mt. Vesuvius.) Less than 24 hours later, it was all good and we moved on with life. No apology was issued. None is really needed. I will gloss over it and move forward on our mutual project. He made a mistake and is human. So am I. It's all good in the long run.
(side note "It's all good" is actually the first phrase I learn in every new language I try. I can say it in 14 languages. It's such a useful phrase.)
My sheer determination to prove everyone wrong (which I think is a large part of why my marriage is successful). I'm stubborn. Like an army mule. (again, this Italian thing.) But I have to say that while I am immensely stubborn I do my very best to manifest that quality in a positive way.
I was told I would never be anything as a musician. Uh - nope. I may not be on Broadway or the radio, but the locals know and love me. And my Ave Maria is still bringing tears to eyes 15 years after I learned it.
I was told that I would never have a full and rich life as a Mom. Wow - they really missed that one. Sure, it's hard and there are days that have me running for the employment line...but I wouldn't miss this for the world. I love my son. I love homeschooling him. I love getting to be a part of those everyday moments that I cherish so much. The only thing that would make me happier in terms of being a mother is if God decides it is time for us to expand the student population.
Last, but certainly not least, I was told my marriage would never last. We had never spent more than 2 weeks together prior to being married. We had never lived together. The vast majority of our "courtship" was over the internet and phone due to a 2500 mile distance between us. Over and above that, after he was injured in Iraq, our chances of survival dropped to nearly non-existent. Abuse rates soar in PTSD and TBI marriages. It take a LOT of love, and a LOT of stubbornness, to get through those times. But here we are - 8 1/2 years later. Still married. Still love each other. Still happily together. Sure, we have our days...doesn't everyone? But we've made it this far...and we have NO intentions of turning back. :)
A common saying here?
"One of us is getting out of this marriage dead - and it isn't going to be me!!!"
This one is so much easier to swallow on the verbage end...yet so much more difficult to answer...
I love my eyes. They actually change color. A friend in high school called them "mood eyes". When I'm happy or neutral (their "natural" color) they are blue...the kind of blue that newborn babies eyes look like complete with a permanent grey-blue ring around the outside. When I'm angry, they turn green and according to those who have seen me REALLY ticked off, they sometimes go back to blue and pick up a purplish hue. When I'm sick, they turn grey and get lighter and lighter until it looks almost like there is no pigment there and just a ring around the iris. They're pretty cool. They also do really weird things according to optometrists that fascinates them. My photo receptors fire all at once unlike most likely everyone reading this. I also have a scar in the center of one eye on the pupil that always looks like a fresh scratch.
However, on a deeper level...which is what this is all supposed to be about anyway...
I love the following:
My sense of humor (which sometimes no one gets). It's quirky and uniquely me. I love to make people laugh - friends, family, strangers. Laughter is a universal feeling and an expression of a universal emotion...happiness. We need more happiness in this world and I do my very best to do my part in increasing our happiness quotient by adding copious amounts of laughter to the globe.
My immense ability to love and forgive. Yup - sappy time. Anyone who knows me well knows that it literally takes me hardly any time at all to get over most things. For example, recently a friend stepped over the line in asking me to do things and I was angry as hell about it. (Hint - I'm Italian...when I blow it's Mt. Vesuvius.) Less than 24 hours later, it was all good and we moved on with life. No apology was issued. None is really needed. I will gloss over it and move forward on our mutual project. He made a mistake and is human. So am I. It's all good in the long run.
(side note "It's all good" is actually the first phrase I learn in every new language I try. I can say it in 14 languages. It's such a useful phrase.)
My sheer determination to prove everyone wrong (which I think is a large part of why my marriage is successful). I'm stubborn. Like an army mule. (again, this Italian thing.) But I have to say that while I am immensely stubborn I do my very best to manifest that quality in a positive way.
I was told I would never be anything as a musician. Uh - nope. I may not be on Broadway or the radio, but the locals know and love me. And my Ave Maria is still bringing tears to eyes 15 years after I learned it.
I was told that I would never have a full and rich life as a Mom. Wow - they really missed that one. Sure, it's hard and there are days that have me running for the employment line...but I wouldn't miss this for the world. I love my son. I love homeschooling him. I love getting to be a part of those everyday moments that I cherish so much. The only thing that would make me happier in terms of being a mother is if God decides it is time for us to expand the student population.
Last, but certainly not least, I was told my marriage would never last. We had never spent more than 2 weeks together prior to being married. We had never lived together. The vast majority of our "courtship" was over the internet and phone due to a 2500 mile distance between us. Over and above that, after he was injured in Iraq, our chances of survival dropped to nearly non-existent. Abuse rates soar in PTSD and TBI marriages. It take a LOT of love, and a LOT of stubbornness, to get through those times. But here we are - 8 1/2 years later. Still married. Still love each other. Still happily together. Sure, we have our days...doesn't everyone? But we've made it this far...and we have NO intentions of turning back. :)
A common saying here?
"One of us is getting out of this marriage dead - and it isn't going to be me!!!"
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
30 Days of Truth - Day 1
As part of my journey, a friend recommended Em's World's 30 Days of Truth. I happen to agree with her that some time of reflection is helpful right now. So, for the next 30 days, I will blog here daily on the 30 Days of Truth. Other entries will be made separately so that those who wish to ready just these posts can find them easily and those who wish to avoid them may also do so. :)
Day 1: Something you hate about yourself.
Response:
Wow - I try VERY hard not to use the word "hate" for rather obvious reasons. I'm a peaceful, loving person at heart and well...I just avoid that particular verb - especially when referring to other people and/or their actions. Much like in early "pre-marriage" counseling when we were told no one "always" or "nevers", I avoid "hate" for the same reason.
But, for the purpose of this exercise, I will indulge the word.
Truth be told, there are many things I hate about myself. I'm not a fan of my weight - in fact, although I've been longtime friends with these extra pounds I would be very happy if they would take a permanent vacation. I hate the fact that I am a permanent doormat and every time I seem poised to conquer that demon, another arises that forces me back into that box. I hate that I'm 5'10 and can never find anyone to dance with.
I hate the fact that I don't know how to grieve. It bothers me in ways I can't really explain. Not just grieving for the dead...I have no need to grieve for them. But I can't grieve for the other losses in life either. I never grieved after I was raped. I never grieved when my favorite grandmother became a victim of dementia. I never grieved after my husband was wounded. I often say I just don't have time but the truth is...I'm not sure I really no how. I can "cry it out" for awhile, and have with the first two I mentioned. But to truly grieve...to let myself really FEEL those emotions and process them...
I just can't.
I tried.
But I can't.
There are too many things that need to be done...too much of life that I can't miss. I am deeply afraid that if I take the time I need to grieve these things, the rest won't happen...and that's unacceptable.
So here I am. Not able to grieve and knowing I should. Truth be told, I wonder if I'm even capable of it anymore.
Day 1: Something you hate about yourself.
Response:
Wow - I try VERY hard not to use the word "hate" for rather obvious reasons. I'm a peaceful, loving person at heart and well...I just avoid that particular verb - especially when referring to other people and/or their actions. Much like in early "pre-marriage" counseling when we were told no one "always" or "nevers", I avoid "hate" for the same reason.
But, for the purpose of this exercise, I will indulge the word.
Truth be told, there are many things I hate about myself. I'm not a fan of my weight - in fact, although I've been longtime friends with these extra pounds I would be very happy if they would take a permanent vacation. I hate the fact that I am a permanent doormat and every time I seem poised to conquer that demon, another arises that forces me back into that box. I hate that I'm 5'10 and can never find anyone to dance with.
I hate the fact that I don't know how to grieve. It bothers me in ways I can't really explain. Not just grieving for the dead...I have no need to grieve for them. But I can't grieve for the other losses in life either. I never grieved after I was raped. I never grieved when my favorite grandmother became a victim of dementia. I never grieved after my husband was wounded. I often say I just don't have time but the truth is...I'm not sure I really no how. I can "cry it out" for awhile, and have with the first two I mentioned. But to truly grieve...to let myself really FEEL those emotions and process them...
I just can't.
I tried.
But I can't.
There are too many things that need to be done...too much of life that I can't miss. I am deeply afraid that if I take the time I need to grieve these things, the rest won't happen...and that's unacceptable.
So here I am. Not able to grieve and knowing I should. Truth be told, I wonder if I'm even capable of it anymore.
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