This One Is For Me

One of my deepest desires is to inspire others by being real, open, and honest. It’s the reason I started this blog. But I put my writing on a major pause because I felt I wasn’t living up to that authenticity.

I contemplated whether or not to post this. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever written before and has that kind of cringy, oversharing potential. The truth is, I am in the middle of the mess and I don’t know which way is out. I just want to have a raw and open dialogue.

So let’s be really real.

My house is not in order lol. My bed is not made. My mind, will and emotions are in perpetual chaos. External factors have a chokehold on my internal peace. I fear I have no purpose, no plan, no real vision and my failures (big and small) have begun to define who I believe I am.

I had myself convinced that the super guarded, overly critical, extremely sensitive, and perfectionist weeds that overtook my garden were permanent aspects of my character.

I’ve been searching my entire life to understand why I can’t muster up enough willpower to rid myself of my negative traits. As an adoptee, I have spent quite a bit of time learning about attachment theory and how rejection has played a role in my life. It’s safe to say being conceived by r*pe, spending time in foster care, and ultimately being given up for adoption by my 14-year-old biological mother definitely played a major role in my attachment style.

But despite my attempts to read, learn, and change, my negative behaviors still became my identity. The anxiety, depression, hyper-vigilance, feelings of worthlessness, control issues, irrational thoughts of abandonment, procrastination, self-sabotage, guilt, anger, and rage were the branches that sprung out from a deep root of rejection. And I had myself convinced that the super guarded, overly critical, extremely sensitive, and perfectionist weeds that overtook my garden were permanent aspects of my character. These things made me who I was.

I knew something was wrong, something was missing. But the more I searched the more confused I became. I spent hours ruminating over every aspect of my life that I thought could be contributing to my distress. I never truly asked for help, because I didn’t know what I needed help with. I knew eventually the bad feelings would fade and I could go on about my daily business, hiding my dark traits until the next life crisis would illuminate them again.

Then I became a mother. The introspection that comes when you’re a parent can be earth-shattering. It certainly was for me. The soul-searching and self-inventory are necessary processes that forced me to be honest about my personal experiences and how they shaped me. From that introspection I had to decide whether or not I believed those experiences served me well and if I would continue on the same path or if it was time to change course.

It was time to change course. For the sake of my family I knew I couldn’t continue on like I was. It was affecting my ability to complete simple daily tasks. It was causing stress in my marriage, and ultimately, I was not able to be fully present and whole for my child.

I was forced to address my behaviors. And as I began hacking away at the layers of the brick wall I’d built to protect myself what I found sent me back down the path of chaos and confusion.

What did I find?

• I don't feel worthy of love or genuine relationships.

• I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything and cannot think of any reason why anyone should be proud of me.

• I am so terrified of tearing the wall down for fear of someone taking advantage of my vulnerability.

• I feel like I’m not even supposed to be here.

• And I am self-loathing because I’m too weak and helpless to figure out how to stop feeling like this, despite my “best” efforts.

But sometimes best efforts don't matter if your eyes are not fully open. And in most cases it really is easier to just keep them closed, to just put up defenses, refuse to face reality, and continue living in comfortable delusions.

I couldn’t have guessed how the grief that came with my choice would begin to put things into perspective.

This is exactly what I was doing. Refusing to make a change and becoming too comfortable with the cycle. Until I was met right in the midst of my delusion with a choice to make.

And I chose the hard thing. A MAJOR life shift for myself and my family. I chose to move on from where I’d been comfortable for over 20 years. This shift has left me feeling like I’ve been catapulted into a tail spin. In the aftermath it feels like nothing is anchoring me and I’m left questioning Every. Single. Thing. But I couldn’t have guessed how the grief that came with my choice would begin to put things into perspective. Never in a million years would I have guessed that moving on would swing open gates of hurt AND healing for me and that there would be answers on the other side.

The rejection I always feared looked me dead in the eyes and tried to bait me to come back to my comfortable place.

But I’m not running back to false comfort this time. I recognize that things will never be the same. I made a choice to allow God to guide me out from the stronghold I didn’t even know was there.

I won’t lie, I’m in a really tough place right now. It’s hard that despite doing what I know is right, I’m still left feeling grief. Instead of receiving instantaneous healing, I’m still dealing with feelings of anger and sadness sometimes. Most days I’m numb.

But I’m… surviving.

Surface level, things are a hot mess. My hair isn’t washed, my house isn’t clean, my toddler watches too much tv, some days I don’t even manage to get dressed. There are days I wake up and feel like I’m being chased. There are days where by the end of the day I feel like I’ve lost my will to live.

Internally, I’m uncertain what’s next for me. I’m unsure what kind of petty retribution could be lurking on any given day and that makes these some of the scariest times I’ve been through. But even in the midst of my hardest days I feel optimistic about what God is doing and I know He is with me.

Even though I’m hurting now, I know the pain is necessary in my journey to become a better person for my children, for my husband, and my family and friends. I know there’s a healed version of me on the other side. The version of me who can lay to rest the lies I’ve believed about myself. The version of me who doesn’t have to hide behind the wall. The version of me who is truly authentic.

If you’ve made it this far thank you for reading. I’m excited to share this journey and hopefully encourage others to start their journey, too. If any of this resonates with you please message me or leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you all.