This Becoming

 The Power of the Sun I have been going on mindfulness walks for several years and it is a practice I am most grateful for.  Every walk, I find something new.  Despite having walked this path before, there is always something to be learned, to be discovered.  The earth is calling to me and I wonder who else she is calling to.  Sitting in the sun, in the grass, under a tree, this is where I am called to be.  My thoughts come and go in the sun  I feel connected to all of life surrounding me. The warmth of her gaze tunes me into the frequency of existence  for a sliver of a moment, I am unplugged from the ego. Oh ego.  How you drive me into holes  and into walls  and somehow feel like you are ten feet tall. Silly little ego.  Desperately  clinging  to the desire to be loved  to be accepted  to be liked  to be consumed  to be revered  to be adored  to be  to be  to be to be constant...

Dear_____,   I hope you are doing well. I am writing this letter to get some things off of my chest. I most likely will not send it, but, a part of me wants to just slip it in an envelope and mail it anyways. We have never had a close relationship of any kind from the time I was little until now. I believe that probably has something to do with my mom, my dad (the child you didn’t want), and the attitude I was born with lol. I have heard that A was your favorite and dad was an accident in an already stressful time. Then came V and your idyllic image of a functional family was created. I have attempted over the years to try to connect with you but only out of an obligation to the potential guilt I might feel later. But, as I have lived most of my life without your connection, I don’t feel any desire to waste any more of my time or energy to connect with a person like you. I don’t feel like I am missing out on anything except the crippling anxiety that comes with being too cl...

Why is it that the people who inflict the most damage, are almost always the loudest about the consequences of their actions? Me personally? I am over it. My parents got married because they had nothing better to do and then played house under my grandmas roof. It was great. Neither were able to grow and heal from their childhood so they took that out on their beautiful creations. I refuse to spend anymore time attempting to psychoanalyze their behavior or try to figure out what made them the way they are.  What I can analyze is the effect they had on me, my life, and my current mental state. I was parentified at a young age and treated as my mothers confidant before I was even fully cognizant of the topics she was discussing with me. My parents emotional immaturity led to us being in and out of high control religion, parental advice being followed by authoritarian psychologists, and being abandoned at the age they were abandoned or were traumatized by. All this while living with...

 SHADOW JOURNAL PROMPT #25 "What was one time you can remember feeling wronged as a child? How did you react? How has this affected you in adulthood?" I can most clearly recall a bad fight my parents were having when I was young.  It was very scary. It plays back like the footage they show of war films with chaotic camera pans and shouting.  I went into my grandmas room and I hugged her, crying, telling her I was scared. She told me, "All you can do is pray." So I got down on my knees in the middle of her floor, facing her mirrored closet door, and starting praying out loud.  The door slams open, I look up to see my mother standing in the door way with this darkness clouding her expression.  "And what do you think YOU'RE doing?!!"  I am jerked up from behind before I can process what is happening.  My bottom is slammed onto the dining room table and there is a finger in my face  "this is your fault...don't act like you are innocent.. don't...

 What am I to do with all of this hellfire beneath my skin, the anger in my bones?  Anger has been the emotion I struggle to process, feel, and accept out of every other emotion I experience. I feel ashamed when I get angry, like it's sinful to be upset and to express it.  I have learned how to bottle it up until it justifiably explodes, and then, the gloves are off.  I have learned how to be passive, to "turn the other cheek",  to apologize for my existence at the expense of everyone else's comfort. My anger is repressed and comes out in passive ways because I am scared to sit with her.  I am scared to feel the extent of grief that is hiding behind her. The wall is easier to maintain, or, at least, it was.  The flames are swallowing me whole, the poison spreading. Jaded bitterness has seeped into my soul and the work it is taking to heal this, is turning into a vicious cycle. I get angry that I am jaded, that I am bitter, I get frustrated but ultimat...

It has been over a year since I last logged into this account to vent. I wonder what might have been if I were to be consistent with this. Since I last wrote, I have gone through a massive transformation.  I have become a mother to the sweetest and happiest little boy.  Moreso than ever before, my desire for mental stability is palpable.  It is no longer just about me. I am responsible for leading and guiding this little soul.  How can I teach him to process emotions if I, myself cannot?  How can I show him the goodness in life if I, myself, cannot see it? Postpartum has proved to be a storm to be ridden and I am sinking. I tried to be ahead of the game.  I made myself believe that what little work I had done would be enough.  But, I am learning, I only scratched the surface.  It's as if the volume has been cranked up on the mental struggles I was already going through and it is unbearable. With the added layer of new responsibilities and the disr...