2021 in Review

 Looking back on 2021, then and now, I would say it was one of the hardest years of my adult life, but all things that will make me and my family stronger and better in the long term - my 13 travel nursing contract, my Mother's death, Adelynne's broken arm, covid x2, moving business offices, taking craniosacral I &II, Uncle Denny's death - all things that make me go how the hell did we get through all this?! But we always do. We traveled a lot this year - Chicago twice on a train, east coast (which I am really missing right about now), SC and GA with "the neighbors", then I went back to GA myself for training - those parts have been joyous to reflect on. There have been lots of laughs, growth, and love this year.

My hair is longer, my weight is higher, but I'm happier than I've been in a long time. I've been on stimulants for over a year and I think they've effected my mood and disposition more than I've wanted to admit. They are also probably part of the reason I am gaining weight right now. I'm releasing that fear every time it comes up. Sabrina and I have fought more this year than we ever have. There were times when I think we both weren't sure if we were going to make it to 2022 together. But we did. I spent a couple months in a pretty deep depression, probably pioneered from my moldavite I wore to the east coast (that was not the best idea I've ever had!) But I've been humbled, I've been made softer, and I've been enlightened to things about myself and others that I had struggled to see. My family's happiness and well-being is important to me, so is my own. I cannot pour from am empty cup, and I am re-embracing that truth and standing strong in it. 

This next year, 2022, will be a personal 3 year for me. 3 years are about creativity, self-expression, and taking care of ourselves. I need this. Habits I'd really like to create in the new year are being 5 minutes early to places/appointments/etc., walking more to Mallory's and the office, being more loving and kind with my words and conversations with Sabrina. I'd also like to honor my commitments and develop a routine that honors myself, my family, and my work. Spiritually, I'd like to be more grounded and more intuitive. Yoga, Gym, walking, sauna, and nourishing foods. 

We intend to have Bexley in daycare 3 days a week. I'm not sure on they days, I'm still feeling that out. I'm looking forward to the new year, I'm full of confidence, hope, and joy. I'm proud of my family and want them all to continue to grow and find joy in their daily life. I want all good things this year for everyone - friends, family, and strangers alike. 

A Goodbye Letter to Anger

 "We have all made mistakes and wondered how we got wherever we go, why we chose what we chose, and why we didn't change it sooner. It's easy to be angry at ourselves and other people, but that anger keeps us stuck. Our lives truly go in the direction our mind goes, our thoughts are constantly creating future experiences." Journal Entry - January 2018

I have been angry at Sabrina for over a year now. I journaled about it on Christmas Day, all the same things I say now about why I'm angry. I know why I'm angry, even my therapist told me that. She also encouraged me to write a letter to that anger and say goodbye. Here goes...

Dear anger,

I almost capitalized you, but I stopped. I backspaced and decided that was the first step in saying goodbye - not giving you so much power. I don't know when you came into my life. It's felt like you've always been there. I've often speculated you came from my father. I took the dog for a walk last night, and when my mind would wonder and my attention would focus on negative things or replaying conversations, thoughts, fears, etc. that didn't serve me, I would thank my body for being so strong and I would think about the things in my life and about myself that I love, and I felt lighter.

I know why I've been mad at Sabrina. I know why I've been mad at myself. But it truly doesn't serve me to hang onto that. I'm sure there is a useful time for you, but it should be transient. You shouldn't hang around and continue to cause chaos and upset. I love my wife. We've chosen to work on ourselves and our marriage. She's not been mad at me for a long time, but she's waiting on me to not be mad at me or her. I really don't have space in my life or marriage for you anymore. If there's two of you - a more chronic, carried, acquired anger that may not have even been mine to begin with and a more acute version of you, I'm going to need both of you to leave. I am surrounded by people in my life who love and support me for being exactly who I am. People who would love me through growth spurts and hard times. I asked the Universe a long time ago to please partner me with someone who helps me be the best version of myself, and she does that. That process isn't always pretty, but it's worth it, and I asked for this. There are way more joyful pieces to my life then there are pieces that cause me pain. I'm sure there is a time and place for you, but I don't think it's here, now. I really don't need you anymore, especially in this situation. I've chosen to forgive her and myself. 

I want to move on with my life. I'd like to smile more, relax my furrowed brown more, ruminate less, talk less about things that don't need to be talked about, ride my bike more, walk more, live in joy more. I don't want to be mad for the sake of being mad. Things happen. Acceptance is they key to all my problems today. If I could learn to give myself more time to do the things I need and want to do and a little more grace, I would be less anxious and angry.  I'm ready for that, too. Thank you for being part of my story, I'm sure you had a purpose at some point. Please be free.

Dottie

I'm Psychic but Not Immune to Life

"You will destroy yourself to make other people feel better." - My Therapist

At the end of the day, I'm mad at myself for being here. In this place where I don't recognize the person in the mirror, ashamed and angry with the choices I've made and the sacrifices I've chosen along with those choices. I want to be mad at my partner, but I'm mostly mad at my self.

I am angry bc I feel like I should have known better. I should have been able to change the course of this. God knows I fucking tried. I knew, between that 5th and 6th year we would come to a turning point in our relationship and the outcome wasn't certain. I knew it would be related to her feeling resentful bc she hadn't spoken up for herself or voiced her needs or wants and she would wake up one day and be mad as hell at me for it. And she did, she was, and here we are. I tried for years to stop it. I tried to tell her this was coming, and tried to get her to speak up and change this daunting forecast, but she couldn't. We couldn't. In hindsight, I suppose all the pieces weren't where they needed to be. I've lost myself in this. Like a frog in a slow boiling pot - I didn't realize where I was until it was too late to draw back with ease. I was fucked. I felt fucked anyway. I remember talking to my PCP a few months after she blew our fucking lives apart and I spoke openly about how I just wanted to not hate her when all this was over. I wanted to be okay when she figured out her shit. I knew I this is where I would be, and it was scary, so I exhausted myself to not be here - yet here I am - I'm angry. I did this work already. I didn't want to do it again. At this point in my life I just wanted to be enjoying my family, love myself, and working on my career and life path. I was doing exactly that until she hit me like a train with how she wasn't happy. My security, joy, excitement, confidence, etc was blown out like a candle before midnight. I was suddenly filled with fear and confusion.

A few days ago a question came to me as I thought about this dark place I was in just recently, and silently blamed her for taking me there. I was reminded of all those times I had said in my life I believed I had went through hell to help show others the way out. I was asked that even if I had known where I would end up - lost and alone, in a darkness I equate to new sobriety while she sat on the other side... free - would I have consciously chosen to do this? My answer was yes. Of course I would have. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I have climbed out of worse places, and I think I ultimately did choose this. I ran back into a metaphorical burning building to get her, risking everything I was, because I didn't want to do this life without her. Because I refused to leave her there to suffer alone. But I don't think she gets that. In her book, I don't quite meet the mark because I appear aloof and unreliable - too much like her mom. I don't feel I get credit for the real deep shit that I do on emotional and spiritual levels for her, myself, and us as a team. I equate it to Robin William's What Dreams May Come. He sacrificed everything, was terrified, but searched literal hell for the women he loved, even though, he knew she wouldn't know him when he got there.

Me replaying life events and feeling like I should have been able to stop something, or I should have known how or been able to do better, has been a recurring theme that creates a lot of internalized anger. I get mad and punish myself for not knowing better, for falling victim to the world, to love, and to fear. I came to the conclusion that my psychic abilities will not allow me to avoid or change fated life experiences. I'm going to type that again. My psychic abilities will not allow me to avoid or change fated life experiences. I am not responsible for these events just because I saw them coming. I am not responsible for fixing or preventing them just because I knew they were coming and when. Under the anger, there is a truth and understanding that I was meant to go through this, I was meant ot be here again within the confines of a committed relationship. It was just as much a part of my path as it was hers. I had to find my internal boundaries. Until I am able to know and stick to those internal boundaries and not feel guilt or shame about that, I believe I will carry more weight than what is considered normal and healthy. Sitting is uncomfortable to me. Tying my shoes feels like a chore. Getting out of bed in the morning makes me sad because of how slow and painful my body feels. How did I get here? How did I allow myself to get here? Shouldn't I have known better? No.

I will come out of this a better person - more balanced, confident, lighter, clearer, happier. I really want to quit real-estate. I want to release the anger I am harboring towards myself. I want to forgive myself and move on.

A Tribute to My Mother

I arrived in Atlanta Wednesday night for at a four day training. As I was in the back of the taxi for the 35 minute ride from the airport to Buckhead I thought about my Mother. My father too, for that matter, but this isn't about him. I remembered coming here in third grade to my first and only Atlanta Braves baseball game back when I wanted to be the first female Atlanta Brave baseball player. It's funny, you can laugh. I thought about vacations, her laugh, how she was always trying to give me and my brother everything we wanted. She always loved those big grand gestures. I thought about all the good and fun things she did. 

I have not always been so quick to think or talk about the good things. 

My Mother loved me. She loved me and my brother unconditionally - there is no but. She took care of us and nurtured us in the ways she knew how - she gave us any and everything we wanted, she fought for full custody to keep us safe, she supported and encouraged us, she always told me how beautiful and capable I was, and how proud of me she was. We never left the house without hearing her say, "love you." It was obvious she believed in me and wanted me to believe in me. She is probably the reason I feel I can achieve any goal. My mother always made me feel strong and worthy. More than anything, she wanted me to be happy. And if she couldn't give that to me, she stepped out of the way of the person that could. I think that takes an enormous amount of strength.

She also loved to buy and gift the big and extravagant things especially for her grandkids. I'm pretty sure she's bought 80% of the big toys we have outside - the trampoline, the bikes, the swing set, the hoverboard, Adelynne's kayak, lol. A sandbox once! It seems like all the things. She'd show up. If I needed her, she was there. If she couldn't be there in person, she was on the phone. I never felt unloved. Not once. Not even when I was a teenager, and I was not an easy teenager. I was stubborn, rebellious, angry, and wounded. But she loved me every step of the way. I never doubted if she would be there if I wanted or asked her to be there. And when better life opportunities came, she let me go despite her own personal pain. When I left for Michigan in 2005, I never came back. She cried every time I left. As I grew and changed over the years, she still loved and accepted me just the same, even though, she didn't always understand. One of the last conversations I had with her, within a few weeks of her death, I called to tell her grateful I was for the unconditional love she had given me all these years - I thanked her for that amazing, unwavering, unconditional love. Her response was, "Make sure to give that to your girls, Babygirl." 

I miss her. I woke up two days ago and for just a couple seconds I wanted to call her, forgetting that I couldn't anymore. So, I listened to her voicemails where she called to ask about my new job, another if Bexley had been born yet and if she could come see "her four girls", one pretending she was looking for a house, and another saying she was out of the hospital. It's a double edged sword to hear her voice. I hope she hears mine now. The grief is still stuck in my body -my shoulders, my diaphragm... my heart. And even though I can hear her say, "It's okay, Babygirl, don't cry," the tears still come. My world has not been the same since she left. 

I love you, Momma, I always have, and I miss you. I wanted to come see you just before you died, but I was so scared. Scared of many things, that many people will never understand. I hope you do though; I hope you understand. I was there in spirit. I closed my eyes and imagined holding your hand and holding space for you. I worked tirelessly behind the scenes with your healthcare team ensuring you were comfortable and at peace; I was there. My heart, my Spirit, my thoughts were all there. I really, really hope you felt that. I'm grateful for you and this life that you brought me into. 

In My Feels

I'm kind of in my feels tonight even thought I don't want to be. "I don't want to feel all the feelings anymore" "I don't want to feel anymore." A deep desire to not live my life based so much on emotion is rising to the surface and I'm just letting it be. 

Love brings to the surface everything unlike itself.

I read that, or something very similar to that years ago. I perceive this to be very true with where I am at in my life, in my relationship, and where I am within myself. You wanna heal your deepest wounds with your parents? Become a parent. You wanna heal your deepest wounds within yourself, fall in love and marry that person. Make a commitment to spend the rest of your life with them and watch how much stuff that brings to the surface that cannot be ignored. So many of us chose to run from it - the things that come to the surface. 

If I Had A Black Son

How would I feel if I had a black son? That was the question I asked myself two days ago. My honest answer was, I would be afraid for him out in the world because he is black.

It is not about black people vs. the police. I do not have to choose between #blacklivesmatter and #backtheblue, nor will I. I know and love too many on both sides. Good and evil exist in all colors, professions, religions, and cultures. It is about the racism that still exists in the minds and hearts of so many of us whether we are aware of it or not. Law enforcement families fear for their loved one's lives everyday just as black families fear for theirs. 

I watched a video of a women who frantically called the police from Central Park on a black man and stated she was, “going to tell them there is an African American man threatening [her] life," but he wasn't. It's sickening. I thought of centuries of black men being persecuted unjustly because a white women said some ignorant shit like that. Then there's the video of George Floyd being suffocated to death in the street by a white police officer. It all makes me so fucking sick. I'm angry. I'm sad. I'm mourning with my black friends and communities. I do see you. I see you all. I hear your voices, and your cries for help. I've watched your people die in broad daylight. I've watched too many white men, in our unspoken hierarchy, rise and stay at the top too easily and without merit, not to mention, get away with things most of us wouldn't. For example, two white men chasing down a black man and shooting him to death. 

I've been sitting here on this computer for over an hour trying to put into words all of what I am feeling right now. The events of this week were the last thing I thought about before falling asleep and the very first thing I thought about this morning. I just don't fucking get it. I don't understand why this is all still an issue, and why racist fucking assholes aren't punished for their shitty comments and actions. It's time we stop being numb to the little indicators of a racist mind.  There are so many things that just don’t make sense to me. I don't understand why a bunch of white men with automatic rifles can occupy a state building and not be told to leave. Sure, no one and nothing was hurt or destroyed, but the potential for a disaster was absolutely there. It easily could have become a massacre. I wondered if things would have been handled differently if they were black men, and I think the answer is yes. 

I'm just fucking sick of it. Nothing I do today, sitting in my white middle-class home in mid Michigan will change anything going on in Minnesota. There’s, honestly, not much I have control over outside of my own home at all. That’s why I don’t often post about sensitive/controversial topics on Facebook; I’ve never known anyone’s mind to change based on a social media argument or meme. I often feel helpless and afraid to do the wrong thing. I didn't even know white privilege was a thing until about six years ago, and then I struggled to understand what it was. I'm still learning where it exists and how it effects people's lives. There was a time when I would say I don't see color or feel proud that my daughter didn't appear to see color, but now, I'm thinking it's important that we do and be aware of how that persons experience could be different than ours because of that. I'm sure I have done and said things that have made my black friends roll their eyes. Maybe, I've even unknowingly offended them. Never, ever has that been my intention. I think some white people truly believe they aren't racist, but act on an unconscious bias fear that has been perpetuated for centuries, like with the woman in Central park, who, in an interview, after the fact, stated she was definitely not a racist. But is our job, as a white person,  to become aware and unpack these subconscious bias and be a true ally, if that is the case. The faces of  my black friends I have loved and enjoyed deep friendships with over the years roll through my mind. I think of their families and what it must be like to have a young black son and the conversations I've heard they must have with them. It breaks my heart. We, white people, have failed them. Us, quiet white ally's, have failed them. We need to get out of our own self and get over our own shit. People are dying. I'm sure I have missed opportunities to challenge questionable racist comments or actions in my life, but I don't want to do that anymore. I will keep my eyes and mind open. I will continue to teach my children about racism and how to recognize it. I will teach my children, to the best of my ability, about their privilege and how to use it to support those who weren't born with it.  Black people, I want you and your families to feel safe and equal. I want you to be successful. I want you to know, I am fighting for you.

"Racism is not getting worse, it's getting filmed." - Will Smith

Yesterday Was the Day

Yesterday was 100 days.

I don’t know why I picked 100, and I don’t know why I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes. They are not from sadness. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen in these 100 days. I assumed there would be some nitty, gritty inner work, and there was. Emotions surfaced. Mental change surfaced. And I think there might have been a LITTLE weight-loss. I’m not 100% sure because I throw out my scale 😄.

There’s a re-figuring of who I am going on right now. I am not the same woman I was 100 days ago, but no one would see that yet. The last couple weeks have been filled with thoughts of utter gratitude, a deep, overwhelming gratitude for this life I have. It’s the life I’ve always wanted. I feel free - finally. I feel strong mentally. There is joy in my life. I’ve decided to switch careers and my goal is for us to pay cash for Sabrina’s NP school. I’m building a new wardrobe. I’m building a new me, the me I have always wanted. It has not been a perfect process - shame, worry, guilt - have all needed to be surrendered and my humanness embraced. I am not just a fat woman, and despite my previous fear, most people would agree. I was told in reiki I need to see it; I need to see myself thin. I’ve come a long way. These 100 days may not look much different on me to most, but I feel it - a deeper sense of commitment and clarity. A peaceful focus I’ve not had in years, if ever. There is a mental toughness I wasn’t sure existed, mostly grown from the introduction of stoicism.

Right now, at this moment. I haven’t worked out since Tuesday (it’s Sunday) I’ve logged all but one of my days and stuck to around 150g of carbs per day. (100g was encouraged by my doc). My podcast just talked about realistic goals - goals we are likely to do on a scale of at-least 8/10, ten being without a doubt. I am learning to balance these two; the attention to food detail and consistent fitness. And I’m going to do it, not because I want to lose weight necessarily, but because I want this to be so much a part of my life I don’t think twice about getting up and working out at 6am on a Tuesday, or passing on the majority of carbs at meal-times. I want this to just be part of what I do and who I am. I hope Josh, my coach, hangs with me. Fitness has replaced more than one unhealthy habit for me. This is for my mental health, whoever wrote that damn article was merely answering a quiet, late-night call from my soul. I think this last 100 days was for my mental health.

I am not ashamed anymore. I am a lucky gal. I consider my life a miraculous gift. So, here’s to podcasts, early-morning workouts, a good coach, and some willingness to do the work.

“You will not always be motivated, you must learn to be disciplined.”

With Grace & Gratitude...