New Year's Eve 2017

Sunday, December 31, 2017

It seems appropriate that 2018 will begin on a Monday; the start of a new week, new month, new year.

As I sit at my kitchen table, looking out upon the snow-covered landscape, my thoughts are beginning to formulate about strategies, intentions, desires for the upcoming 12 months.

A girlfriend wisely suggested that the use of the word 'intentions', rather than 'resolutions', would be more inspiring and helpful when one considers how the future could unfold.  I like that.  Intentions.  It has a much lighter connotation to it than 'resolutions'.  Somehow, guilt and begrudging are connected with resolutions.  Intentions takes the entire process to much a higher level of contemplation.  It actually puts a smile on the face.  Perhaps 'inspiration' is woven into its fibres, making it a much more palatable experience.

In any case, 2018 Intentions are where I turn my thoughts presently.

Various bits of paper are scattered upon the table.  Scribbles of notes, thoughts and ambitions scattered about upon those papers.  The object now is to coelesce everything into a workable regime and an easily adaptable application.  Yes, I hope to remove some elements my from current existence.  Yes, I hope to add new elements to my current existence.  Yes, I hope to enhance the elements that will remain.  Another appropriate word to describe this process, I suppose, would be 'evolution'.  The Evolution of Me could be a fine title.  Or, how to make me better than before is another good way to look at it. 

2017 has been a remarkable year for all sorts of reasons.  This time last year I was a complete emotional mess.  The full impact of leaving my marriage, facing the demons that caused the demise of the marriage, and recoving from those impacts took all my energy and focus for the first half of the year.  I did hit rock bottom in March.  There is no denying it.  I did, however, slowly crawl back out of that bleak abyss to feel the sun's warmth on my face again.  At the same time, I wrote, and wrote, and wrote.  I wrote until I had a very rough, but completed, draft of a manuscript.

I am proud to say that I have examined, analyzed, reconciled and made peace with all that tormented me.  It was hard work, but I wanted and needed to do that work.  Everything that I knew in advance that had to be worked through for the betterment of me, was worked through.  The fundamental reason for writing it all out in the first place was met with stupendous personal success.  Yay for me!

What I will actually do with the manuscript now is unknown.  Various eyes have read through the pages and the common comment is that more words and more details are required to truly pull it together.  I am not certain, at this moment, if I really want to do that.  I do not know if I have it in me to dig deeper.  I do not know if I have it in me to keep turning to the past.  Part of me wants to simply, and cleanly, walk into the future without remnants from the past coming with me.  I want all of my life now to be for me (and my children!).  The best of the past will always remain with me.  I have no room for reminders of the worst.

For the past month or so I have been diligently working on a new path for me; a path which should be confirmed within the next couple of days.  The beauty of this new endeavour will require me to bring the Best of the Past to the table.  I am thrilled to, hopefully, be doing something so fitting given all that I have learned and understood over the past 12 months.  So much of what I am seeking might be found along this new path.  It feels right.  It will feed my soul.  I'll fill you in when everything is arranged!

As a 52-year old woman, who is the mother of three young adults, I am anticipating great adventure in the upcoming weeks, months and years.  Not just in 2018, but in the years that will follow.  Given my age, and the intentions running around in my mind, these adventures and new paths should turn out to be quite hilarious, liberating and, surprisingly, reassuring.  It is these crazy mid-life adventures that I now wish to focus on here.  I've learned from the past, but I wish to write about the present and future.   Wish me luck!

For 2018, I wish only the absolute best for each and every one of the mysterious readers of this blog.  May your intentions fill your soul, and may you find a reason to have a good hardy laugh each and every day!

Happy New Year.

Sleep Report

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

How well did I sleep last night?

My wind was restful.  The funk had passed.

My tummy, on the other hand, was a bit topsy turvy.  Lack of discipline in the evening had me consuming some chocolate, too close to bedtime.  Such indulgence always produces a restless slumber.

Will I ever learn?

Do What Is Right For You

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

After tossing and turning last night, I awoke in a funk.  This funk was oppressive, as if an invisible force field was pushing down, bit by bit, upon me.  Perhaps it was the weather; dark, grey and very, very rainy.  Perhaps it was the typical turmoil of too many thoughts racing around my mind.  I felt flat; uninspired; almost lost.

Then I went to yoga.

Right across the street from my cozy apartment, a new yoga studio recently opened its doors.  I have committed to a one-month introductory pass to not only investigate this yoga craze, but to also jumpstart my overall physical well being.  The plan is that within a 30-day period, as many classes as possible will be attended.  Not only will my awareness and knowledge of yoga increase, but perhaps the overall tone of my muscles might increase too!

Since last Monday (November 6th), I have been to 5 classes.  My flexibility is improving; my muscles are not stiff and sore; and I am becoming more conscious of my breathing (as if giving birth to three children was not lesson enough on how to breathe!).

While my mind whirled around its funky self this morning, I walked across the street, entered the studio and opened myself up for whatever revelation might present itself.    At the centre of my thoughts was my recently completed manuscript.

Let me explain:  For the past eleven months, I have been undertaking a project of self-reflection.  Haunted by ghosts of the past, the time was taken to stare down those ghosts and gain perspective of my previous life as 'wife'.  I wrote a memoir.

The long and the short of the writing project was that clarity, perspective and peace were achieved with great success.  The process of writing out my thoughts, emotions and analyses in the form of a memoir was absolutely invaluable.  At times it was not an easy task, and tears streamed down my face as certain memories were recalled.  At other times, memories produced bursts of laughter and rapid texts were sent to my children declaring, for the umpteenth time, how much I loved them!

46,000 words later, I burst across the finish line and happily announced that the manuscript was completed (first draft, mind you).   Phew!  I was extremely proud of my accomplishment.

That was back in August.  Since then I have been to a writers festival, met so many amazing people in the book world, forwarded the manuscript (completely unexpectedly) to two publishers, and have had three different people read some, if not all, of the manuscript.  After all of this, the next step was looming:  Revision.

So, I wrapped my mind around the fact that I had to return to the keyboard.  I started work on Chapter 1.  I got about halfway through it when everything simply shut down.  I felt as if I was walking in concrete (a feeling I had felt before during my time as 'wife').  There was absolutely no enthusiasm for the process any longer.

That literary 'shut down' happened yesterday.  I could not focus.  I could not make myself dive back into the pool of decades-old memories.  I was forcing myself to write.  Enthusiasm was at an all time low for this project.  No wonder sleep came in fits and starts last night.

While at the yoga studio this morning, lying on my back at the end of class, rooting myself to the floor, an observation was noted:  I was no longer certain what this manuscript was too achieve.

The reasons for writing in the first place were twofold:  First and foremost, I was writing for Me.  Secondly, I was writing for the one other woman out there who would be helped/inspired/encouraged by my words.  From here the dream flowed: A manuscript would lead to a publishing deal; which would lead to speaking engagements; which would lead to another book.  And so on, and so on.

Yes, my own personal thoughts and reflections have been written down; self-directed therapy, if you will.  The next step, however, involves place a literary cap on my head and fully expanding on all those original thoughts and reflections.  More details, more insights, more words demanded by a not-yet-known publisher and reading audience. 

The simple fact is that I am not quite ready, at this moment, to put more, more and more into the manuscript.

This morning's yoga class made me realize that it is okay to put my writing on the back burner for now.  The manuscript is done.  46,000 words have been written.  I can move forward from that whenever I choose, and whenever the timing feels right.  I took the pressure off myself and felt so much better afterwards.

This afternoon, I felt so incredibly light and content.  I had obviously made the correct decision (which is why I took myself out for tea!).  Here was, yet again, proof of why we all should keenly listen to our inner voices.   'Do what is right for you' is what my inner voice was telling me.  I like what it said, and followed its advice.

The world is making a bit more sense today.

I'll let you know how well I sleep tonight!

What Have I Been Doing?

Saturday, November 11, 2017

On this solemn day, I find myself tapping away at the keyboard, watching the crows flying back and forth from the trees outside my dining room window.  The sun is finding open patches in the clouds from which to send forth its rays of light. 

Forward progress is slowly being made with my manuscript.  Two amazing ladies have read either portions of the manuscript, or all of it!  Consistent and constructive comments have been offered so back at it, I go.  More words are one of the recommendations.  20,000 in fact.  Hmmmmm.   

Being childless for the weekend, a quiet at-home working environment provides the setting for a 24-hour writing blitz.   Plenty of tea, water and the odd break away to either the yoga studio across the street, or a jog along the river, will keep me fresh.

11 o'clock, however, will be the time for reflection.  Always remember.

IN FLANDERS FIELDS POEM

By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

Another First!

Monday, October 16, 2017

Well, I did it!

A few moments ago, upon invitation, manuscripts were submitted to two different publishers.

What an achievement!

I will try to keep the exclamation marks to a minimum.

This past weekend, I both attended and volunteered at the Whistler Writers Festival.  What an amazing event.  Authors of all sorts, and those who help authors get their books out there for others to read, were in attendance.   Such a diverse collection of individuals.

Much was learned, fabulous contacts were made, and after sitting in on a speed-dating version of manuscript pitching, I was invited to submit my Strong As Steel manuscript.  Twice!

I have absolutely no idea what, if anything, will materialize.  But, it is a start.

One thing was made perfectly clear during the past four days:  There is much to figure out when it comes to publishing.   So many different paths to take, so many options, so many goals to define.  The best question asked of all attendees:  What is your vision of success?

The answer to that question helping to establish your publishing path.  Now, to figure out that path!

For today, book-related matters are done.  Now it is time to make some soup, get some bread rising, and get myself outside for a good long walk/jog/explore in the rain.

Happy Monday, Everyone!

My First ...

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Wow.  That was a first!

I just got off the telephone with a consultant from a Publishing House.

Oh my gosh.   What a hoot!

Yesterday I spent time at my desk looking into publishing options and publishing companies.  I even put it out on Facebook to see if friends had helpful wisdom to share.  After that, I went to the library to do some research on editing, publishing and such stuff, and attended a book reading by a local author.

I actually felt semi-informed when chatting with this kind gentleman.

So much information to process.  So much learning to be done.

It is time to dig in deep and find out just what the various options are, and how those options will best fulfill my dream.

It is all so very exciting!

I have one week to educate myself some more before we speak again on the telephone.

Yahoo.

This is going to happen.

Keep an eye out for Strong As Steel.

Happy Wednesday, Everyone.

Publishers

Monday, August 28, 2017

Today I began compiling a list of potential publishers.   The next step in the process.

Just because the first draft of the manuscript is completed does not mean that the work has ended.  Turning that manuscript into a published book will be, so I have heard, just as hard as the writing.

It's all very exciting, though.  Something new to learn about.  Something new to strive for.  Something new to accomplish.

Bring it on.

Let's do this!

Happy Monday, Everyone.

Congratulations To Me!

Monday, August 14, 2017


Last week, after eight months of (sometimes, emotionally-challenging) writing, I am pleased to announce that the first draft (first, mind you) of my manuscript has been completed.

Yahoo!

I am very proud of myself for accomplishing this goal.

It has been both a joy and a challenge to find the correct words to describe what I have felt, and what I feel in regards to the past 23 years of my life.

This first draft is for Me.  It is written with everything that I wanted and needed to write.

Revision will fine-tune, and possibly remove or alter, parts of the story.  And that is okay.

I now place the Editor's Cap on my head to make it readable for interested readers.  Hopefully there are readers out there who are interested to read what I have written!

I took last week off.  Did not write a single word, nor re-read my words.   Topped it all off with a fabulous 48 hours in the mountains (see above photograph!).

It is Monday morning, so back I go to the laptop to start revision and investigate how the publishing world works.

A two-week self-imposed deadline for the second draft.

Here I go.

Happy Monday, Everyone.

A Long Lost Friend

Tuesday, August 1, 2017


Tomorrow I am expecting a visitor.  Visitors, in fact.  Three visitors from out of town.  A friend from many, many years ago with his two children.

This friend was an integral part of both my and my former husband's lives.  He knew both of us back in the day when we first became a couple.  He was intertwined into our married and professional lives.  A friend, colleague, partner, visionary.

I have not seen this friend for more than 15 years.

It has been a long time.

Much has happened in life since that last get-together in the kitchen of our now long-gone home.

I feel the emotions bubbling up.  Emotions from past connections between the three of us.  He was a good friend of my husband's.  The two men, together, were a powerful team.

Tears are not far from the surface today.  I know I will break down at some point.

The past is rushing back.  What was once an amazing time of all our lives, is now gone.

What was expected of the future back then, is now a completely different present.

Many memories.  Many life-long impressions.

The heart is being pulled in a multiple of directions today.

Appropriate, I suppose, for the chapter being drafted:  Healing.

Happy Tuesday.

A Recent Re-Discovering

Monday, July 24, 2017

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been incredibly fortunate to spend a significant amount of time in the mountain backcountry.   Remote coastal mountain wilderness, far from the nearest logging road, surrounded by old growth forested slopes, free running meltwater creeks.  So remote you have to be flown in by helicopter if wishing to stay at a well-endowed rustic mountain hut.

It may sound ridiculous, but I describe these as "soul feeding" times.

I always knew I loved the mountains, yet I never really had the opportunity to spend a dedicated length of time (7 days) in a remote location (I've been on plenty of wilderness rafting expeditions but that involves travelling every day).  Bring your own food, camp stove, sleeping bag, clothes and headlamp.   Even though each day was spent vigorously working our way (we were a group of 8) through the forest, across alder fields, across boulder fields, up into the alpine, crossing raging meltwater creeks, I was totally enthralled and inspired every second of each day.

The mountains fed my soul.

The best thing you can possibly do for yourself is follow your heart.  Whether it be in a relationship, in the pursuit of a personal goal, or seeking out the lifestyle that you know you must seek out, your heart will always tell you which way to turn.  Your soul, in turn, will be fed.

I have followed my heart consistently for the past three years.  Professionally, romantically, socially, fundamentally.

It is the only way I now know how to operate.

Yesterday, as I hiked back out along a barely discernible trail through the 800-year old forest, a thought struck me:

Do what you love and your confidence will flourish.

I love the mountains.  By saying "Yes" to opportunities that gave me the time to be in the mountains, my ever-fluctuating level of confidence once began to soar.  I was described as being totally content as I wandered along the trail, stopping to take photographs, examining the smaller details of the forest.

Find where you are content.  Feed your soul.  Raise your confidence.  Fill your life with what makes you happy and enthusiastic.  Fill your life with what will always keep you asking for more!

Happy Monday, Everyone.

The Writing Is Going Well

I am so pleased with how the manuscript is progressing.

Even with being away in the mountains for a week (which is most definitely included in the writings), I have wrapped up another chapter today.  I believe I may have only one more chapter to write.

Very exciting, indeed.

The next chapter to work on will require returning to some heavier matters.  That cannot be avoided.  Now that I have completed a very inspirational and happy chapter, however,  I am ready to face the demons one last time.

Hope you are having a fabulous summer, wherever in the world you may be!

Happy Thursday, everyone.

Three Years Ago Today

Three years ago, July 18, 2014, I walked without trepidation into a new life.  

Next to me today, is a “Remember Me” rose bloom from my balcony garden.  

Reminiscent of my wedding bouquet and walking down the aisle, it is also a testament of how far I have come walking along my own path.

What Truly Makes Me Strong

Monday, June 26, 2017

As I begin a new chapter of my book, a chapter that reveals and discusses the meaning behind Strong As Steel, a smile spreads across my face.

At long last, I can open up about a topic that makes me feel really good.

The various individual components that define my strength, that comprise it, are so fundamental and so valuable to me.  Everything that I cherish in my life goes into making me strong.

The dark and nasty chapters have been dealt with.

It is now time to talk about sunshine and lovely-scented flowers!

Happy Monday, Everyone.

Sunlit Leaves

Friday, June 2, 2017

From the safety of my dining room, looking out upon by the greenery of my balcony garden, I re-live and type out excruciating memories of a time, thank goodness, long gone.

The numbing impact of the actual episode, more than a decade ago, can still be felt.

At least, this time, physical bruises will not appear.

I cannot help but stare, dazedly, at the beautifully sunlit leaves.

From behind dark clouds the sun reveals itself once more.

I'll Just Say This ...

Thursday, June 1, 2017

These past several weeks I have been busy typing away on my laptop, compiling line after line, paragraph after paragraph.

The end result being the first draft of four entire chapters and one preface!

I can now visualize a completed structure of the book, with one of a total of three sections now wrapped up.

First drafts, mind you.

I am feeling incredibly focused on the task even though emotions are being dug up and having to accurately be put into words.

Writing is incredibly enjoyable and rewarding.

July 1st is my self-imposed deadline for an entire first draft.

I'll keep you posted.

Happy Thursday!

Why?

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Why did I dream about you last night?

The Sun Is Shining, But I Feel Blue

Saturday, May 13, 2017


It has been building up for the past several days.

A bubble of unsettled emotions rising to the surface.

What exactly has been the trigger, I do not know.  I have my suspicions but it is a mixed bag of reasons.

I am feeling quite vulnerable at the moment.

Tears are not far below the surface.

Feeling an imminent surrender of energy coming on, but must keep the smile on my face.

I know it will not lead me into a month-long emotional abyss as it did back in March.  This is only another bubbling up of matter which, without doubt, will not cause catastrophic damage.

I feel as if I need to reassess my life goals.

Get the book written and then take life in a new direction.

Back to work.

Writing.  Writing.  Writing.

I Haven't Forgotten About You

Saturday, May 6, 2017

These past few days have seen me busy behind the lens of my camera and furiously working away on my manuscript.

I am attempting to write a memoir.

Thoughts, presently, are being focused on a more permanent and encompassing collection of words.

Please feel free to take a peek at my Facebook photography page:  

www.facebook.com/naturephotography3

And the Strong As Steel Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/StrongAsSteel1/


Happy Saturday!

An Interesting Observation

Monday, April 24, 2017

I sit at a wooden table, typing away in a corner of the glass-encased restaurant located at the top of our locally-operated gondola.  I'm working on a chapter of my book.  It is a lovely spring day, the snow-covered alpine is slowly melting from the mountain tops.  I like to call this place my Alpine Living Room.

Outside at the picnic tables, situated on the deck overlooking the stunning view of fjord and mountains, sit two separate gatherings of humans.

One table has two ladies animatedly chatting away, having a fabulously fun time together in the sun.  Each has lots to say to the other.

Another table has a group of four, early 20-ish friends gathered.  At any given moment in time, at least one of the four is staring at his/her screen.  Amidst all this natural splendour, not to mention time with friends beyond four walls, there is the never-ending need to have technology and connectivity over-rule direct human interaction.

I have caught myself in situations where I have placed priority on technology.  Shameful, really.

This is a good reminder of who you would like to be:  Willing to share your thoughts, dreams and laughter with another human being, face to face.  Or, withdraw from human interaction, in favour of some gizmo with a screen.

I'll take the happy, chatty ladies any day!

Happy Monday.

A Picture Is Worth One Thousand Words

My favourite sign.

Forgiveness ... Contemplation Continues

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I continue to mull over the topic of forgiveness.

I have read a book discussing Nelson Mandela's various perspectives on life.  Highly educational and very helpful.   Desmond Tutu is next.

Progress is being made.

Once again, a eureka moment bowls me over and offers an entirely new perspective on this deeply philosophical debate.   The act of forgiveness, or making peace as I prefer,  does not release the wrong-doer from the wrong-doing.  Not at all.  The release is for the person who suffered at the hands of the wrong-doer.  Making peace releases me of the obligation/responsibility to hold on to my hurt and anger and confusion.  It allows/permits ME to let go of my emotions and to no longer let these emotions wear me down.  The benefit is entirely for ME.  Not him.  

An incredible revelation, to be sure.

The education continues (and is turning into one heck of a chapter for my book). 

Happy Wednesday, Everyone.

Forgiveness: An Examination

Monday, April 10, 2017

I am examining the definition, meaning, context, and depth of the word "forgive".

The muddied waters are becoming slightly more clear.

I have not yet arrived at this prestigious and elevated destination.

I am, however, teetering on the edge yet seem to be holding my balance.  I have not fallen back.  Forward progress is still being made.

An instant and absolute revelation is not anticipated.  This will take some mulling over and contemplation.

Some angles of the argument are understood.  Others, not quite yet.

Tomorrow I will zip up the highway to the library and check out Nelson Mandela's Long Walk To Freedom.  My doctor has suggested I read some of this incredible man's writings on the topic.  Desmund Tutu's as well.

For now, I will continue the mulling.

And ... I'm Back!

Thursday, March 16, 2017

It has taken two months, countless calories from sugar and chocolate, countless minutes and hours flopped on the couch playing Candy Crush and other such games on the iPad, a few meltdowns complete with tears and anguish, not enough fresh air and exercise, and too much blubber added on to my hips, waist, thighs and arms.

But ...

I did it!

I have jumped over the stile, seen the light at the end of the tunnel, climbed the highest mountain, forded the stream, and have successfully lifted the weight off my shoulders.

Yahoooooo!

This afternoon, I sat myself in front of my laptop and began to type.

What was written was a hypothetical letter to my former husband.  Let me explain.

During the one, and only, session with a particular therapist (I later went to see a different lady therapist which proved much more successful), she recommended the following exercise:  Write a letter to your (then) husband which will never be sent to him.  Write whatever you want, say whatever want, express whatever want.  It will be a letter that he will never read.  Then, once complete, destroy it.  Burn it.  Tear it up.  Ceremoniously get rid of it.  Accomplish some form of closure.  Write more than one letter, if necessary.  Write as many letters as you wish.

I wrote a letter.

Two other letters have actually been written over the past couple of years.  Interestingly enough, each of those two letters took completely different angles.  The first was gracious; the second was angry!

Today's letter produced thirteen, yes, 13, pages (single-spaced!).

Man, did it work well.  I feel FANTASTIC!

In usual form, it started declaring certain points, then fluidly rolled into other points.

There was even a significant Ah-Ha moment, when everything suddenly took on an entirely different perspective.  A perspective, I might add, that had me in the power seat rather than my former husband.

Wow.

What an evolution.

Not an epiphany, but definitely an evolution.

I recognized something...which is what an epiphany seems to represent.

Then it went further.

That recognition then evolved into an entirely new way of seeing the situation and had me changing, forever, how I now look upon my entire raison d'etre regarding my former husband's abusive behaviour.

Mind blowing.

Evolutionary.

And, once again, it has come about in its own way, in its own time, and in its own perspective.

I feel so much better about myself right now (except for those pesky additional pounds).

My back is straighter.  My head feels clearer.  My motivation has been jump-started.

I also realized, perhaps egotistically, that I have something valuable to share with others.  That these various life experiences which I have experienced, have produced a pool of knowledge and insight from which others might be able to relate.  Experiences from which others can learn.  Experiences from which their own lives can be effected (dare I say, improved or even fulfilled?).

My self-confidence has been greatly strengthened.

I have successfully turned the tables on my abuser, and still stand firmly on my own ground with my head held high.

I'm back.

And can't wait to dive into my manuscript and see what I can produce.

Does anyone know a good book editor out there?!

Happy Thursday, Everyone.

Rock Bottom

March 14, 2017

I feel as if I have hit rock bottom

I have zero energy, zero focus, zero desire to do anything, zero desire to step outside into the world.

I took myself to the gym yesterday; spent an hour or so on the elliptical and then did some floor work.  

Katy Perry’s “Roar” was playing as I stretched on the mat.  (That song had a big impact on me back in 2013/14.)

One hour was all I could handle.  I had to get back home.  That was enough of the world for that day.

Today, I initially got dressed to return to the gym.  Then the dark cloud descended, and I chose to stay home.  Lacklustre exercises on the living room rug.  

Tonight I am supposed to be meeting a girlfriend in the city for dinner.  She is in town for work.  While I was in the shower, again the dark cloud descended.  The weight of the outside world pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I could not do this.  I could not go out into the world today.  It was going to be too much.

I emailed and texted my girlfriend.  I lied to her.  I said I had been up in the night with an upset tummy.  Not feeling great.  Don’t think I can make it this evening.  Going back to bed.

I need to rectify that situation.  I cannot let that lie remain out there.

I have to admit to her that I am simply not up to facing the world right now, even with a world full of amazing girlfriends who will understand and offer a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen and wisdom to share at the end of it all.

But I was in absolute tears.  I was a mess.  I'm uninspired. I’ve gained weight and now clothes are tight and uncomfortable.  The light has gone out of my eyes at present.  

Why am I feeling so closed in?  Why has my strength abandoned me?

I know the answer to those questions.  

I have allowed myself enough of a break from a regime of responsibility.  My doctor has expertly given me medical instructions to not be working at present.  In her own words last week, “you’ve handled everything like a rockstar”.  It is now time to take care of me, fully and properly.  It is now time to face the demons that haunt me.  Time to look those demons in the eye and react the way I need to react.  To think about it as I need to think about.  To cry.  To groan.  To scream.  To have no time constraints or limits on how quickly I need to come up with the answers in order to pack it away properly.

I have been existing on a treadmill for so many years.  Being on survival mode is exhausting.  Right now, I am not on survival mode.  I have shelter.  I have food.  I have wonderfully caring people in my life.  

I am SAFE.

With safety, comes the ability to actually feel those raw emotions that have festered inside me for too many years.   Well before July 18, 2014, my feelings have been locked down.  It is not just these past 3 years, since making the decision to leave my marriage, have I locked down the emotions.

Since the first instance of abuse I have locked down my emotions.  I have locked away my reactions, my questions, my tears, my fears, my questions for close to 15 years.  Fifteen.  15.  That’s a lot of pressure that builds up over such a time span.  Like a glacier growing with each new snow crystal that lands upon it, and gets compacted by the weight of the next snow crystal.  This is how my angst has grown over the years.  

Leaving my marriage was an immense relief.  It was.  My world instantly changed for the better.  My world was brighter, and happier, and lighter.  

There was, however, still the darkness inside to be dealt with.  Darkness that continues to bubble to the surface when I am going about my typical days.

Now, with the relaxed daily schedule and medically-approved absence from employment, this darkness no longer needs to be kept at bay.  Now is the time to let it rise fully to the surface and fully come into view.  It is time for me to recognize and acknowledge and process just what has happened to me, just what my husband did to me, just how my husband made me feel with every unprovoked strike of his hand, fist, foot.

My lack of energy for everyday matters comes from no longer needing to push down the darkness.  Keeping that darkness at bay has taken everything out of me.  Temporarily, mind you.  I know I will get my focus and drive back.  But right now, I am completely devoid of enthusiasm.  I have pushed it down for so long.  Now that I have stopped pushing, the darkness was not sure if it should come out of hiding.  It has taken a few test runs at me, and now it knows that I will not resist.  In a way, I welcome its appearance so that I can properly feel everything, no matter how deeply those feelings will run.

I have no more resistance.  There is no longer a need to resist.  I don’t have to be at an office 5 days per week.  I don’t have to take care of my children every day.  I have no demands on my time and schedule right now.

Come on Darkness.  Out you come.

Come show me what you have for me.  Let me feel it.  Let me cry out in agony for all that I was not able to feel for all those years.  

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

I’m ready for it now.

So what if I’ve gained weight.  So what if I’ve temporarily misplaced my focus and drive.  So what.

So, bloody, what.

I deserve this time.  I deserve this time to put everything on the table.  To be honest about how everything has made me feel.  I will not make excuses. And then I will be able to move back into that wonderful world of sunshine and smiles and laughter. I will get there. I know I will.

My doctor states that I need this time for me.

My girlfriend has been sent an apology and an explanation.  Truth, once again, prevails.  I hope she’ll forgive me.

I feel another chapter coming on.

For Me

Saturday, March 11, 2017

What am I feeling right now?

What has been stirred up inside me over the past several days as I describe a significantly dramatic portion of my life to anonymous readers?

Right now, I am feeling wiped out.

I feel as if I am some battered piece of flotsam, or jetsam, washed up onto an exposed, steep rocky beach with waves crashing all about me.  Somehow, surrounded by all this turmoil, a small piece of solitude has been located.  The storm rages all around me, but for now I have a small island of peace.  At some point, I will be swept back up into the tempest and forced to face the demons again.  I know this.  My story has only begun to unfold.  In order for me to write from the heart, to say what I truly want to say to anonymous readers, to share the small amounts of wisdom I have gained, I must step  back into that storm and describe it on paper.

I struggle with details.  Specifically, how many details to include and how specific those details should be.

Privacy is another matter I struggle with.  Specifically, my children's privacy.

I have no problem, from my perspective, putting my experiences out there.  My goal is that my experiences may help another human being to keep moving forward.  From a selfish position, I can happily be as specific as I choose to be.

But those details could indirectly, or even directly, impact the right of privacy for my children.  Is it fair of me to have them innocently swept up into my tale of self-discovery?

To be perfectly clear:  My experiences that I write about are not those of my children.

Our goals, as parents, my former husband and I, were to provide to our children with a childhood that would offer a sense of freedom, independence, confidence, capability, self-reliance, insight, and an appreciation of the world at large.  I believe that goal was successfully accomplished.  Regardless of how much, or how little, input I had in this decision, the success of it is not in question.

My children have had an amazing childhood, and have grown into well-adjusted, insightful, fun loving and mature individuals with good hearts and minds.   What more could a parent ask for?

I do not wish for my stories and my experiences to reflect badly upon my children.  They have their own stories and experiences which reflect the people they have become.  Considering how they each are confidently going about their lives today, one can only surmise that they have been offered a stable and secure foundation from which to launch their own adventures.

My children are not scarred.  My children are not dysfunctional.  My children are healthy members of their own social societies and participate willingly in their lives.

They are happy and content and inquisitive and keen to discover what the world has to offer.  They love to laugh.

As for me, especially today, I feel quite vulnerable.  I feel limp and washed out and lacking energy and lacking the capability to process any more thoughts.

Earlier this morning, I was a complete mess.  I had camping gear spread out over the living room rug in preparation of an overnight alpine trip with a few ladies.  I was in tears at the thought of pulling myself together for this trip.  I could not do it.  It was simply too much for me to handle.

The mountains may be calling, but I may just have to let the call go unanswered.

I know there are more details for me to write out.  There is another episode in particular that I need to explore as I have done with this previous episode.  It may not be included as part of my book, but I do think it is an exercise in which I should participate.  It would be good for me to face yet another demon and exorcise it properly.

It is time to push away the distractions and really feel what I need to feel, and think what I need to think, and cry as much as I need to cry.

For me.

Writing Can Be ...

Friday, March 10, 2017

Writing can be either completely therapeutic or gruelling.
Or both.

I have spent the entire day, at my dining room table, completing the chapter that had to be completed first.  It is not necessarily Chapter One of the book, but it is the chapter that needed to be written first.  From this chapter, all the more positive topics will flow.

Once again, I am pooped.

Mentally fried.

Emotionally numb.

Completely lacking in energy.

Yet also feel a renewed vigour to continue.



Perhaps the hardest part is over.

Revision will be necessary, that is part of the process.  It is hard to get it right the first time around.

For now, it is time to take a break.  The weekend is here.  The mountains are calling.  The ladies are gearing up for another alpine adventure.

Happy Weekend, Everyone.

Have fun.  You deserve it.

Today Is A Better Day

Thursday, March 9, 2017

After yesterday's self-imposed, energy-zapping writing exercise, today I had to go for a long walk by the river.

More pretty pictures.

Enjoy.

Yesterday Was A Tough Day

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Yesterday Was A Tough Day

Yesterday I concentrated on writing about a very specific event, a very specific topic.

The emotions that were churned up left me completely devoid of fortitude.

Yesterday, vulnerability reigned supreme.

There were tears while I sat alone in my vehicle overlooking the great body of water on which my home town is located.  Snow-covered mountains in the background.  There were sobs from deep down inside me.

I had always been keenly aware of how this specific topic makes me feel.  I had, however, never really delved into the emotional details of it.  I have never tried to explicitly describe it before with written words.

The correct and descriptive words found traction on the document.

That particular chapter of my book still requires completing.  Today's task now lays before me.

I must say, though, that in usual fashion when I am feeling wobbly, my children are the first people I choose to contact.  And all three rose, once again, in typical fashion to the occasion.  Declarations of love from all four us filled the wires.  

Yesterday was a tough day, but my children made it bearable.

Happy Thursday.

 

A Pretty Picture

Saturday, March 4, 2017

A Pretty Picture

Today, I took myself out for a lovely, long walk in the forest.  My camera accompanied me.

The local trails are shared by those on two feet, those on four feet, and those on two wheels (and sometimes just one wheel!).  

Today, it was very evident that the mountain bikers are back on the trails!  Shoulder-checking begins.

Nothing heavy to write about, although my mind did work through several different topics.  One topic, in particular, had me fussing a bit.  That will be divulged tomorrow.

I will not spoil the tranquil mood that the above photograph creates. 

It is simply too pretty.

I hope you enjoy it.

Happy Saturday!

That's A Wrap

Friday, March 3, 2017

That's A Wrap!


#1 - #42 of previous posts are the re-caps of what was written previously.

We are now back in the present, and continue moving forward.

Happy Friday!

Time for a glass of wine.

#42: Coming To Terms / Seeing Everything For What It Was and Is

Saturday, May 7, 2016

In the past three or four weeks I have taken giant steps forward on my pathway to recovery.

Actually, the steps have been quite earth-shattering for me:

a)  For someone who has consistently continued to cloak the real reasons for the ending of her marriage in hazy terms of mental illness, a bold step has been to completely remove that term from the entire scenario.

b) I have undertaken an act of complete and utter selflessness.  The enormity of which staggers me.

c)  I have firmly placed the blame for the failure of my marriage right where it belongs.

d)  Despite being divorced, the role of Father still exists.

e)  That I am wiped out given a, b, c and d.

Okay, first to explain (a).  From the moment I began discovering reasons and clinical explanations for why my husband (former husband now, thank you very much!) was interpreting, reacting, behaving the way he was in an endless cycle of repetitiveness, I put myself under the illusion that "it wasn't his fault".  And, "that there was no blame".  He didn't ask for his neurotransmitters to start firing the way they were firing.  He did nothing to deliberately bring about this change in his personality.  And for that simple reason, there was no blame for his actions.  Nor any blame for me leaving him, nor for our marriage ending.  It was sad, but no one's fault.

And I have steadfastly held to this rationale for more than two years.  Two years of excusing my ex of his, at times, utterly appalling behaviour and, at times, absolutely horrific behaviour.  Two years of excusing him from causing me harm.  Let's just say that recently, the gloves came off.  My gloves, that is.

Everything in the list above is intricately connected, yet each step stands firmly in its own tracks.  So please excuse me for jumping around throughout my explanation.

For the past year, I have been diligently saving money from every pay cheque in order to send my children on holiday.  Not just any holiday.  Rather than the four of us heading off on a surfing adventure in Hawaii, I voluntarily sent my children to spend time with their grandparents.  Grandparents being the parents of my former husband and father of my children.

For me, the reasons for doing this (and please note that this is the explanation for (b) above), to me, are extremely straightforward and uncomplicated.  My former in-laws are extraordinary people.  They have played an incredibly important and valuable role in my marriage.  They have played an incredibly important role in my children's lives.  The relationship and bond between my children and their grand-parents should not be affected just because I am no longer married to their son.  The children are still grand-children.  Grand-parents are still grand-parents.  Divorce does not remove these roles nor the importance of these roles from everyone's lives.

My selfless gift to the children acknowledges how important the children are to my former in-laws, and how important my former husband's parents are to my children.  I have never had any intention whatsoever to keep the children from their father's family.  Never.  As travel is becoming more difficult due to age, it made complete sense that the children should travel to see their grandparents.  The gift wraps up Graduations, Birthdays and Christmas.  It is all-inclusive and with the memories, never-ending.  The children are old enough now to spend dedicated time enjoying their grand-parents on an adult level.  To travel on their own and to spread their wings in this grand world of ours.

The trip also serves as a heart-felt Thank You, from me, to this particular couple.  I have always felt very privileged to be part of this family.  I highly respect them both.  It also serves as a gesture which reinforces the fact that their grandchildren are highly accessible to them.  That I have not cut anyone off from the children.

This is the selfless act that I have performed.  Rather than indulging in pettiness, and being obstructive when it comes to the relationships my children have with their father's family, I have been extraordinarily generous, gracious, accommodating and conciliatory.  I am not denying the role they play in my children's lives.  Nor vice versa.  A terribly mature outlook to be sure.  The fact that I have offered this to my former in-laws I personally find staggering.  That I committed my own efforts and resources to make this happen for the sheer enjoyment and fulfillment of my husband's family, I honestly find quite extraordinary.  It actually takes my breath away at times when I think of it.

That after all that I have been through (terribly cliche), or rather, after all my former husband put me through, and after all the horrific treatment I suffered by his hands (and feet, and other anatomical parts), that I would even consider doing something that benefited his family is utterly astonishing.  Truly.  That I didn't simply turn my back on that entire side of my history (and my children's heritage) and carry on as if they no longer existed, is where the full impact of my actions lie.

My children will be home in two days.  48 hours from now I will be at the airport picking them up.

And this leads to my next revelation:  That my children are utterly priceless to me and that I would do anything for them.  Now, I know that every single mother out there would admit the same thing in a heartbeat.  I know that.   But what I have realized about my own life, while examining the past years, and not being able to fully answer and understand just why I returned to my husband and children when I ran away for a couple of days back in 2008, is that it has always been about the children.

I returned after running away in the middle of the night, not because of my husband, but because of my children.  I have never been able to quantify that until just recently.  For all the times that I felt utterly inept as a mother, I must say that my Mama Bear instincts are alive and well and ready to leap to my children's assistance in a millisecond.  I may not have fully realized that before, although there were definite inklings over the past two years.  But I certainly realize it today.

I came back because of my children.  I refused to ever leave again because of my children.  I put up with the hellish environment my husband produced because of my children.  And I suppose that two years ago, the time had run out on that particular way of life.  I suppose I no longer needed to put up with it for the sake of the children.  I found it in me to admit I could not live with this anymore.  That neither me nor the children needed to have this in our lives anymore.  That I was now capable of walking away from him and knowing I could support the children.  Yes, that's it exactly.  Any time prior to July 2014 and I would have not been able at all to handle being a single mother.  All that time of putting up with the punishments and the blame was served as a means to build me up, or simply wait for the right time to make the move.  And I admit it all went quite smoothly and successfully.  Back to the point though:  It has always been about the children for me.  I may not have seen that fully until just a couple of weeks ago, but I now see that that is exactly why I have done everything I have done.  For the children.

Gosh, it feels really good to finally, FINALLY, get to this place of understanding.  Friends have all asked me "what made you do it at that particular point in time?"  The universal question of what made me see the light at long last?  And I haven't had an answer for that.  Until now.

And the holiday is for the children.  My gift to them.  Because they deserve it.  Because I know how important it is.  Because it was simply the right thing to do.

Once the tickets were booked, then it was discussed that their Dad should know about this trip.  It is his parents, after all, that the children are going to see.  After a bit of a kerfuffle, it was decided that at the very least an invitation should be extended to him to join everyone.  This put me through great turmoil and great angst.  The very notion of him benefiting from all my planning and saving and good intentions made me absolutely livid.  There was no bloody way I wanted him to ride in on my coat-tails and maximize this opportunity when he wasn't even putting in the effort to see them here at home.  Hell, he only lives an hour away and still can't see any of the children on a regular basis.  I may have walked away from him, but he has chosen to walk away from his children.

In the end, he did not join them.  I think much to everyone's relief!  I know that the atmosphere and mood would have been completely different if he were there.  Much more stressful with no natural flow.  Fortunately, it all turned out as planned in the end.

But the turmoil of emotions that I went through helped to crystalize my thoughts reflected in (d) above.

As I was adamant that he was not to benefit from my logistics and my financial commitment to this holiday, and that it was ME who came up with the idea, and it was ME who saved, and it was ME who saw the children safely through airport security, and that it was ME who deliberately worded the divorce documents so that financial support would not be imposed on him, and that he has benefited from my vehicles/gas/insurance/inconvenience while being with the children only TWICE in the past 21 months, that I no longer will facilitate/encourage/do anything regarding the relationship between Father and Children.  I am taking care of EVERYTHING for me and the children.  I removed all responsibilities from my husband EXCEPT the responsibility of being a Father.  He is still fully accountable to the children for being a father.  He must make the effort to be included and involved in his children's lives.  It is not the children's responsibility to involve their father,  nor make arrangements to see him, nor plan to get together.  That is all up to him, the father, the elder in the relationship.  And if this father chooses to not be involved with his children, then he only has himself to blame.  No one else is at fault.  I will not be encouraging the children to invite Dad to Graduation.  I will not be encouraging the children to ensure they see or contact Dad during the Christmas holidays.  If he calls the children, and makes the first move, then I won't discourage it.  But I am not pushing the children do to anything with regards to their father.  This is not my role.  This is not the children's role.  This is solely the Father's role.

And with this responsibility, comes blame if he does not see it through.  Blame is the thread that connects to (c) and (a).  With removing mental illness from my list of excuses for his behaviour, I can now firmly and unequivocally place blame on my husband's shoulders for the destruction of our marriage, and for the destruction of our family.

Mental illness or not, his actions and his intent to harm me, cannot be entirely rooted in mental illness.  Misfiring transmitters could not entirely remove his cognitive abilities to know that he was meaning to cause me harm and then actually did cause me harm.  I can no longer excuse his abuse on the "suffering from mental illness" bullshit.  He knew he wanted to hurt me.  He then decided to hurt me.  He then decided to hurt me again and again and again.  No form of abuse, I'm sure, can be completely and entirely attributable to mental illness.  No one looses their faculties completely.  Amnesia was never an issue.  Because at some level, he was fully aware of what he was doing, I can now fully blame him for deliberately harming me over and over and over again.  I can now fully blame him for driving me away.  I can now fully blame him for our marriage ending and for our family being destroyed.

I have never done anything to warrant the behaviour/the wrath/the punishment that he inflicted upon me.  That he inflicted upon me for YEARS.  I am not perfect.  But no one deserves what I was subjected to.  He scarred me, physically and emotionally.  And he is fully responsible for that.

And oh, how I wish I could have the opportunity to tell him this to his face.

That he is fully responsible for the relationship between him and his children.

That he is fully responsible for pushing me away.

That he is fully responsible for the intentional harm he caused me.

No more mental illness.  No more excuses.

Seeing Everything For What It Is.

And with all these revelations, comes exhaustion!  Breaking through emotional walls is ... emotional.  It is draining.  It is an opportunity to see just how much of myself I have given to so many people around me.  I have given to my former in-laws.  I have given to my former husband.  I have given, somewhat, to myself.  And I have most definitely given to my children.  The loves of my life.  The reason for me doing everything I do.

I have two nights left in a quiet apartment before the liveliness returns.  I can hardly wait.

In these next 48 hours I plan to revel in the fresh mountain air with a girlfriend for Mother's Day (tomorrow), hopefully exploring a new trail leading to a mountain lake.  I will also spend some time in the kitchen revving up the food-preparations.  I will also take the time to slump and take big breaths.  I am tired.  I am frazzled.  I am running on empty and eating too many cookies!

It is time to totally step back.  The holiday is done.  That task is complete.  My time with my former husband's family has come to a close.  I have no more energy at present to put into that.  I pass that torch onto the children.

I think it is now time to start thinking about my second annual pilgrimage to The Rockies this summer!

50 And Feeling Like A Tired Puppy!