emotional abuse

darnold1975

Suicide Awareness And Prevention Month

“This life. This night. Your story. Your hope. It matters. All of it matters.”

-Jamie Tworkowski

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Thank God, we have made it through most of the hottest months of the year. September is another sticky, humidity filled month before the beginning of the cool down. September is also Suicide Awareness and Prevention Month. I know, it’s another upbeat topic. I think that the topic of suicide shouldn’t be taboo. It’s an unfortunate dark part of nearly every culture. And, yes, it has also affected my life in many ways which I’ll share.

Suicide has always been referred to as “the easy way out,” “selfish action,” a  “total disregard for friends and family,” and the most hurtful “a sin.” And it’s really easy for people to throw out opinions that help no one when they are struggling. That is minimizing their pain and abuse.

Having been not only a patient in the mental health system for the majority of my life, and working in the mental health field as a professional, I have also seen and been on most sides of this problem. People are so quick to judge what they don’t understand. And, sadly, suicide is a topic that tends to be discussed in judgment versus with compassion.

I have been chronically suicidal since I was a teenager. I was being abused and put on display for others to see for an entire year in school. I was also locked in a closet in that same room while being verbally abused in any way imaginable. I tried to tell adults about what was going on. However, I was made to feel like it was my fault. This helped the teacher to further perpetrate her abuse. My parents also made me apologize to her for comments that I made to her. But as their child, I was not protected by them or the administration. I was in a difficult situation without the possibility of brighter days ahead for the future.

My suicidal feelings got the best of me one day at school when I took forty aspirin. I had no idea, at that time, that it wouldn’t work. But the thought of continuing one more day at the hands and mouth of s purely evil woman was more than I could deal with. My parents were called and made aware. Nothing was ever done. I was never provided with any kind of help. Maybe it was the “standard” of the late 1980s. I was not given the emotional support to sort out my trauma. 

What I did begin doing was self-harm. I had no idea what it all meant, at that time. But I knew that it made things better even if for just the moment. As I’ve stated about my family’s dysfunctional dynamics, I was told just to make it through the year and everything would be fine. It wasn’t. Yes, the abuse ended. But I was not fine.

By my freshman year in high school, I was “balls to the wall” in addiction. Addiction that presented itself in drugs, alcohol, eating disorders and self-harm. The strongest addiction being self-harm. And 35 years later, it continues.

The depression, anxiety and suicidal ideations never subsided as I was told. One day I finally told my mother that had I had access to a weapon, I was going to kill myself. Instead of offering help, of any kind, I was met with anger and told that I was being selfish. My thoughts were anything but selfish. I was hurting in ways that no one knew. And no one seemed to care. So, I suffered in silence for many years.

As a child/teenager when traumatic events occur, your mind goes directly to self-preservation. You do whatever you can to either tolerate the darkness or end the pain. Meanwhile, the trauma of life continued at a level that no one is capable of dealing with alone. My next real relationship was abuse that lasted 14 years. And again, I felt trapped.

If you don’t understand the concept of Pavlov’s dogs, then you don’t understand what it’s like to be held mentally captive while the world sees your situation with an easy out. And the sad part about it, is that they think that you deserve everything you get because you don’t just leave. My parents attributed all of the chaos of that relationship as being something that religion could fix. So, we got involved in church. If anything, the abuse got much worse because now his weapon was a Bible that he read and used as justification that I should be “submissive” to his every demands. Mentally, I was trapped again without any way out. And my self-harm was not about survival. It was about making the pain end. 

I would reach a mental breaking point and would stand out in the front yard where we lived and pointed a gun at my chest and pulled the trigger. The strange part was that I seemed to be witnessing rather than taking an active role. I watched that whole event as a spectator. I don’t expect you to understand the power of dissociation. Most people, in fact, are very ignorant about it. Again, I was met with anger from my mother. She kept saying, “Hush! Hush! Do you want to go back to Pine Grove?” That is the local mental health facility. And at that moment all I needed was compassion. But again, I faced anger and judgment. I wasn’t trying to “take the easy way out” or be “selfish.” I just wanted the pain to end. And everyone seemed to lose sight of that reality but me.

The bullet went into my shoulder only a few inches from my heart. And even hospital staff treated me as though I was taking up space much better suited for someone else. Self-harm became a way of life for me. It’s been there when people should’ve been there. But self-harm doesn’t always mean “suicide attempt.”  And this is a very sore subject among family members. But I sit as an outcast by my family who want nothing more than the family name to not be tainted by abnormality. They acknowledge that bad things happen. But they just want it to disappear and to quit bringing shame to the family name and instead just move on with life. But the biggest factor, is that they don’t want to be perceived as “parental failures.” It’s still all about the reputation of the family.

 People that is not how trauma works. And saying, “We just didn’t know how to help you” is “shit”of an excuse. I was a child when it began. You were in the position to help protect your daughter and you didn’t. Remember, the part of the story where I said, “Just make it out of the 8th grade and everything will be better.” It’s 35 years later and it’s not better. It has crippled me as an adult. And has stolen my hopes and dreams. And I still deal with suicidal ideations on a daily basis. Those never went away either. So, I guess feeling like a “burden” to those who say that they love me but treat me as such will forever be the unhealthy narrative. I’ve asked them to do therapy to help with our relationship. But again, it’s of no importance. And the unspoken belief that I’m unworthy continues.

I wrote this blog to say this, “Quit making someone’s struggle with suicidal thoughts and actions be all about you. You are not helping anything. You only make it worse.” Simply say to them, “Your thoughts and beliefs are valid. Let’s find some compassionate help that will help you thrive. Throwing Bible verses in their face is not helpful. Telling them that they will go to hell is not helpful. They are already living in an emotional hell. 

This is not rocket science! Just don’t be an asshole as a rule of thumb. I have been in the position of being the last one to talk to a person moments before they completed suicide. I can tell you this, “I’m not mad at that person. I don’t condemn their actions. I don’t say, “Well I guess they’re in hell now. How selfish of them.” I simply say, “I hate that they were in so much pain that nothing anyone said could break through the cloud of despair.”

Until you’ve been in that position, you have no idea how strong emotions and thoughts are. And if the person felt like they had exhausted all of their means of trying to end the pain in an acceptable fashion, then they see no other way out. Judgmental comments about, “well, they didn’t seek out every source of help” is you seeing in from your perspective only. If you can’t see it from their perspective, you’re one of the lucky ones. Thanks for reading! Take what you can use and leave the rest.

Affirmation: I’m always healing and never alone.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

What Are Your Family Dynamics? 

“In every conceivable manner, the family is a link to our past, bridge to our future.”

-Alex Haley

 Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk about something personal, our families. I know. It makes my skin crawl as well. Part of the “icky” feeling we get when we discuss our families is because we know, in some unique way, we have a dysfunctional family. And we are also taught, especially in the south, to keep family business within the family. This includes race, gender and sexuality. And if it’s not what the family allows, sometimes for generations, it’s all to be kept secret. But what does that accomplish?

Let us first look at what family dynamics are. They are composed of behavioral and relational patterns that determine how members interact with each other and in society. And these patterns are passed down through generations. Family dynamics can be healthy or unhealthy. And they also largely influence someone’s self-perception, relationships and well-being (mywellbreing.com, 2025).

Three examples of family dynamics are Healthy, Dysfunctional and Toxic.

Healthy Family Dynamics: This is where there is open communication, mutual respect, clear boundaries, honesty about feelings healthy and supportive environment for growth . And I would venture to say that most families don’t fit into this category.

Dysfunctional Family Dynamics: This involves poor communication, lack of boundaries, unhealthy behaviors, and emotional neglect (psychologytoday.com, 2025). This is where my family seems to fit like a glove.

Toxic Family Dynamics: This includes controlling behaviors, abuse, neglect or addiction and can significantly harm the well-being of family members (therapygroupdc.com, 2024). And sadly, my family fits in nicely with some of this category also.

 I will go much more in-depth in this blog series about family dynamics. My own family doesn’t even come close to fitting into “healthy” family dynamics. Also, over generations the behaviors passed down will change in some way. Families think that “their” way is the only way. And overtime that has been the accepted way of thinking. But does that foster growth? Growth will never be fostered in family relationships if those types of criteria are not met. And having “perceived” healthy relationships among three out of four members of a family is NOT “Healthy Family Dynamics.”

I don’t know what is so difficult for people to understand about this. But when “dysfunction” is accepted as the new “healthy” it is only a matter of time before the breakdown in the family unit begins to happen. And this being allowed to go on for years, can create bitterness, resentment, fear, loss and chaos. Even at this point, families like my own, refuse to acknowledge the hurtful tactics used as a way of functioning and breed only toxicity. This will eventually breakdown the family until there is nothing that can be repaired.

Stay tuned as I dive even deeper into family dynamics and how we function. As always, take what you can use and leave the rest. Stay safe. Keep Smiling. And Keep Moving Forward!

Affirmation: I am worthy of love and respect, even when faced with difficult family dynamics.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

What Is Narcissism? Part 2

“The Narcissist wants the authority of a king while having the accountability of a toddler.”

-Haryo Aswicahyono

My ex-husband and his brother are both very narcissistic in the way that they manage everything. They are not men. They are boys with very fragile egos that were destroyed by their father. Nothing they ever did was good enough for him. And his explosive anger was the way that he maintained control.

Their was also raised by narcissistic uncles that taught him the only way to raise kids is to beat them into submission. That is also how his grown children operate. If they don’t get what they want, they abuse their victim until submission is achieved. And my ex-husband was that way in every area of his life. Because physically they’re both just broken-down old men who use threats and intimidation. Because they would get beaten physically in a fight. 

Where was their mother? Well, she was an uneducated homemaker for many years. And where was she to go or to do? Her circumstances didn’t allow her to take three children and leave. The services were just not available then. But what it caused was continuous trauma to others. If someone doesn’t put a stop to it then the abuse continues to multiply like cancer until it becomes the norm. Then, they become accustomed to what is now their normal life and anyone who challenges that must pay in whatever way they see fit. 

I finally got enough and left. But his brother’s wife continues to take emotional abuse. I went into my next relationship and the mark of his abuse also crept in. I decided that I was where the effects of his abuse would cease to continue. And it’s been an arduous process the last twenty or so years in therapy. The way I got though life was so distorted once I was able to step back and realize all the damage that he caused. The most difficult part of living through it is that the PTSD that I sustained from his emotional, financial, sexual and religious abuse continues to affect me today. And sometimes the simplest of things are monumental. 

I’m one person who has been through this. And there are millions more people, both men, women and children who are subjected to a malignant narcissist like I was. Will everyone get help that can be so beneficial? Absolutely not. And then the cycle will continue for another generation that are busy building more narcissists. 

Oh, the kids can grow up to be successful in spite of the narcissism. Just look at our president. He oozes with narcissism, and he has a cult of followers who don’t see it either. It is all about his personal gain that is disguised as “Making America Great Again.” Those of us who have been abused by a narcissist can identify the “gas lighting” and “manipulation” a hundred miles away. Because some of the same statements and attitudes came out of my ex-husband’s mouth. 

Narcissists rarely get help because they never see fault in themselves. They are great at dishing it out. But they absolutely cannot handle it being done to them. He very much wanted to be seen as some kind of a “big boy.” However, he had the emotional maturity of a toaster. My sons are already better men at 10 and 13 years old than he is at 68 years old.

So, I ask you, “How do I support someone like that? I’ve already been through its multiple times in my life. And if you really want to find out the total damage that has been caused to me by way of the narcissists in my life, I’ll let you talk to my therapist who continues to see me struggle years later.”  Thanks for reading! Stay educated. Stay safe. And keep smiling!

Affirmation: I resolve to walk away from situations where someone lies, refusing to engage with truth benders or gas lighters.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Come Out, Come Out!

“Closets are vertical coffins.”

-Robin Tyler

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today I want to talk about one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Coming out of the closet! Holy Cow what a topic! This is a topic that is as individual as a fingerprint. Anyone who has ever had to assert yourself as more than the typical “straight” person knows how very difficult it can be. My situation wasn’t any easier.

Growing up in the deep south of Mississippi you are expected to have a certain path to adulthood. Go to school. Graduated high school. Go to college for more school. Meet and marry someone of the opposite gender. Have children with your husband or wife. Always say, “For the bible tells me so.” And perpetuate this cycle. You are not to EVER consider loving someone of the same sex. But what if you, no matter how hard you try, cannot be straight? Apparently, no one has an answer for that. They just hide behind their bibles and tell you it’s wrong. This was even more pronounced because I live in the “Bible Belt” area of the state. Here’s my coming out story.

I knew at a young age that I was going to be different. I had no idea how or why. I just knew that it was how my life would be. I began having feelings about being gay when I was a teenager. I dare not tell anyone. The best thing I knew to do was keep it all hidden. I wasn’t overtly acting gay. I was just a “homie” to my guy friends. And I never really hung out with the girls unless I was excelling at the lesbian “gateway” sports of basketball and softball. I never really had many boyfriends because I wasn’t attracted to them. This was more out of choice. I just couldn’t seem to connect with any. 

On top of all the tumultuous years of a trauma filled adolescence, I realized early on that I would also have to stuff my “authentic self” into a closet where I would remain until my 30s. I know. It sounds horrible and it was. I’ve always heard, “That parenting doesn’t come with a manual” and I truly believe that statement being a parent myself. But being a gay teen also doesn’t come with a manual. The only thing I’ve ever heard is that being gay is wrong. There was never really any explanation except that the Bible says so as they would claim. The topic about being gay was also attributed to getting HIV/AIDS. Yes, I grew up in the 80s. So for the longest time I thought that if anyone ever found out that I wasn’t straight, God would kill me with AIDS.

I took the bait of a man nineteen years older than me. I don’t really know why because I wasn’t attracted to men. He was incredibly abusive in various ways. And four years later, I would marry him. I knew that I wasn’t meant for him because the abuse escalated over the next ten years to a level that still horrifies me to this day. But I did, in fact, marry a man. I remember thinking, “No wonder everyone hates being married.” I continued in that marriage knowing that there was nothing about it that I truly loved, especially him. I did, however, continue being a wife and my wifely duties.

At one point I asked him, “Why are you being like this to me?” To which he replied, “Because the Bible told me so. I am the husband and you are the wife. And you are to do what I say.” And that was the end of the discussion. He would take this role to a very perverse level, always beating me over the head with the Bible to justify his actions including rape. I would eventually leave him and his abusive ways by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. And it felt so good.

No more being ordered to perform sexual favors that I hated doing. And many times said “no” only to be told, “that if I didn’t that he would take it anyway.” No more pretending like I was happy in public and then crying tears in private. And it wasn’t just because he was so mean that I left. I just wasn’t “straight” and I couldn’t face another day of living that lie.

Six months later as we are going through a horrible divorce,he and his family’s threats and intimidation were just that. One day, though, I would be introduced to a woman who I knew instantly that I loved. We became very close friends very quickly. And we ended up “uhauling”like most lesbians do. For the first time in my life, I was going to love who I wanted to love versus being told who to love. And it was the most beautiful thing that I ever experienced. She was exactly who I wanted to be with. 

Being a party to a scandalous relationship like the one with my ex-husband taught me “toughen up your skin because one day you will need that lesson to reflect on.”  And I would soon come to understand what all of that meant. I was scared but confident because I felt that my family would understand having gone through hell with the ex. So, we sat with both of my parents and I told them that I was a lesbian and I loved Mel. Yep, that shit went over like “a turd in the punch bowl.” They would make it very clear that saying that she loved me for me didn’t matter. It only mattered that she had a vagina. I would also learn soon enough that the reaction was “because it would hurt their reputation and how that might impact their “church life.” It didn’t seem to matter that I could’ve died in that closet. Because I almost did.

I was hurt but I didn’t care. For once I was becoming my “authentic self”, one piece at a time. We moved away to Albuquerque, NM where we took solace in a lesbian group. Finally, though, we were free to love each other openly. And no one cared. We would go on to have two handsome little boys who call us mommas. And I continued fighting battles within my family over their ignorance. I still have family who won’t talk to me or let me be around their kids because, I guess their kids will catch the “gay virus” from me. And others, who won’t even acknowledge my existence because of how it looks in the family. 

That hard lesson about having “thick skin” is that it has given me the strength to stand up for myself and others in the LGBTQ+ communities as we stand together demanding equality for all. These days there aren’t many people who try to debate those topics because my reputation of being a “verbal sniper” will shut them up very quickly. And my beautiful boys also know that no matter who they love or how they identify, it is absolutely ok. And that hateful things are said by people who stand behind the Bible in order to justify their right to be hurtful. And sometimes people ask you not to show up at the church because they don’t want anyone they know to see those beautiful rainbows. Maybe, however, it’s just because my light will shine too bright for their comfort level. What I had to learn through my process is that their ignorance is about them, not me.

You see, the Jesus I was always told about is someone who loves people no matter what gender or sexuality we are. Because we are made in “his” image. We are not made in his “straight” image. But when I came out, all of a sudden I was told how mad it would make him and how I would be punished. Apparently, there is a different mainline number than what I have in my phone.

I’m sorry. I just don’t believe that at all. I think that God is so proud of me for discovering my “authentic self” because I no longer live a lie. And having the courage to stand up for others who are abused by religion based on their gender or sexuality is not ok. My sons have asked me on more than one occasion, “Momma, how do you know that?” I tell them, “Son, because the Bible tells me so. And LOVE IS LOVE.”

I wasn’t built to live my life in a box or a closet. And neither are you. So if it goes against societal norms and makes me unpopular, then so be it. Keep fighting my LGBTQ+ family. Enjoy being  authentically you. No one will ever have the power to love you like you do. Those rainbows make us look fabulous! Happy Pride everyone!

“There’s no right or wrong way to be gay. No right or wrong way to come out. It’s your journey, do it the way you wanna do it.”

-Tan France

***Don’t forget to watch the video!”***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Mommy Dearest

“Munchausen by Proxy may be the single most complex and lethal form of maltreatment known today.”

-Julie Gregory, Sickened: The True Story of a Lost Childhood 

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about a serious mental health disorder known as Munchausen Syndrome. I know that this is a topic that a lot of people like to sweep under the rug because it just seems too grotesque and unimaginable to talk about. However, the fact is that the disorder remains alive and well in some individuals. And the signs and symptoms are hidden in plain sight.

Munchausen and Munchausen by Proxy fit under the diagnostic criteria for Factitious Disorder. A Factitious disorder is a conscious and intentional feigning or production of symptoms due to a psychological need to take on the sick role in order to obtain an emotional gain. This is not to be mistaken with Hypochondriasis. Which is an obsession with fears that one has a serious, undiagnosed disease. The symptoms are not created consciously (nih.gov, 2006).

Munchausen Syndrome is still considered to  be the most extreme form of factitious disorder. They intentionally deceive others by pretending to be sick. They fake symptoms or make symptoms seem worse than they actually are. And speaking to them you would think that they are an endless pit of medical knowledge. What they do is produce some medical or psychological problems and study everything they can find on it until they’re comfortably able to construct an ongoing story.

Munchausen by Proxy is where the behavior is imposed onto another person. The biggest factor in keeping their narratives alive is manipulation. And they are exceptionally good at it. My exposure to Munchausen by Proxy has left me with a lot of shame, guilt, regret and suicidal ideations. I have tried to extend myself “grace” about this situation knowing that had I understood the harsh reality sooner, I could’ve done something about it.

When we moved to Albuquerque, NM we found us a lesbian group that became our home for a short while. Mel and I had dreams and aspirations of being parents one day which eventually distanced us from them. But not before we met Lisa, Landri and Kathleen. “Two moms and a child? We’ve totally got to meet them!” I told Mel. It didn’t take us long to realize that we had more in common with this family than realized. Lisa, who was clearly a “top” and the strong family leader, told us that they were from Laurel, MS. Very surprise I said, “Wait What?! You mean to tell us that we just met people from Laurel, MS  that are a lesbian family?” She confirmed again. I thought, “Holy Crap, this is what we’ve been needing. Someone from the south that understands our frustrations.” Our relationship was soon off to the races.

Their daughter was a truly compassionate being who appeared reserved but loved our son, Marshall. And Marshall loved them all. And Kathleen definitely danced to the beat of her own drum. The connection was so close that it appeared that this was a friendship that would last a lifetime. Lisa told us that she was a retired military colonel. She was always dressed in some type of military get-up. And she had also been an EMT and worked on an ambulance. I was happy that I now had someone to exchange “trauma junkie” stories with. She seemed to deal with it better than I was doing and was interested in how she did it. Her partner, Landri, was very frail looking but spicy in her own sense. She quit working due to her chronic health issues regarding cardiac problems. They told us that their daughter, Kathleen, had been diagnosed as a child with a terminal heart condition. And that she likely would not make it to adulthood. They warned that there were very frequent hospital visits sometimes close to being fatal. But we loved all of them and they loved us.

 We were prepared to love and accept them right where they presented themselves. We never knew that we needed to have someone prove their medical conditions or a traumatic past. We were on the “therapy” side of life which fit comfortably with our level of empathy. And for the first time while living in Albuquerque there were people who understood what it was like to grow up and come out in the south.

Since we lived on a guarded military base, when she would come through the gate dressed in some type of military attire she accepted the salutes as a proud retired colonel. We planned to celebrate the next Thanksgiving together in grand southern style. Mel and I spent several hours in the kitchen cooking our favorite southern dishes. The finished product was a full spread that would make our ancestors smile. But right before they came over Lisa called to ask us if we could make Kathleen some macaroni and cheese because she didn’t eat regular Thanksgiving foods. We both thought that was strange. But we didn’t question anything due to possible nutritional needs. 

When they arrived, Kathleen came running into our house. She grabbed the freezer door and swung it open while asking, “What have you got to eat?” I looked at Mel like, “Are you watching this?” Shocked and completely bewildered I very clearly remember thinking, “For someone who was raised in the south, that behavior was considered very disrespectful.” We gave the cooked macaroni to her after she also went to the pantry looking for something to eat. Her behavior was startling. She grabbed the macaroni and went and ate like she hadn’t eaten before. Mel and I spoke about it later and we felt half angry and half in utter disbelief. But I also noticed that Lisa was trying to ignore the “elephant in the room.” Almost as though the behavior was unexpected. That evening went on without any other noticeable issues.

Being a preemie, Mashall had  different nutritional needs than a normal baby. He drank pediasure to supplement his much-needed calories. Lisa stated that Landi was supposed to be on supplemental drinks like that for adults, but they couldn’t afford it. We gave them a few drinks which they greatly appreciated. But soon they wanted the majority of what we were receiving for Marshall through the CHIPS program. So, we had to put a stop to that. Again, the whole situation wasn’t sitting right with us. However, there were no alarm bells just a “that’s odd” moment.

Kathleen was  admitted many times to the hospital for injuries that were sustained by passing out. She would literally break bones when she fell. Lisa always explained that it was due to her congenital heart problem. And honestly, we have been close friends for a while now while these medical issues continued. We were also told that they were in a support group for kids and families with the same diagnosis. And they would tell us when Kathleen’s friends from the group passed away. 

She was given all kinds of recognition and special treatment because different organizations were aware that she would not be living the fullest life that everyone else would. We were even invited to go to the state fair free as guests of Kathleen’s. We also attended a rodeo there complete with a special meet and greet with members of a band that was to be singing that night. She always traveled by wheelchair or golf cart because of how weak she could become.

Lisa came to us one day to tell us that Kathleen was self-harming. And they knew that we had some basic knowledge about what causes the behavior. I asked Lisa,” Is she being abused by anyone that you know of?” Lisa of course answered, “No.” But she did tell us that she had suffered a breakup and that because she was getting older, she also began to fear dying. And she would also tell us that prior to moving to New Mexico that Kathleen’s biological father passed away from terminal cancer. We agreed that due to the extreme situation that was occurring in their family that this behavior was possible. We advised her to seek out a therapist before it got out of control and caused severe scarring or possibly escalating to suicide. No matter what we tried to do to help our friends, we always felt helpless.

Landri still seemed to become progressively worse. And soon we were told that Landri would also have heart failure. I remember Mel and I were thinking how horrible it was for a family to go through all of that at one time. And how helpless we felt, not being able to do anything. What we did know was how to be friends with someone and support them emotionally the best that we could.

They supposedly decided as a family to go to California to get married legally. At the time New Mexico was considered a neutral state regarding marriage equality. That meant that you could not legally have a same sex marriage performed in the state. However, they would honor marriages from other states. Lisa told us that, “Kathleen wanted that wish to come true.” I thought, “well maybe that’s what they all needed.” However, there was a very dark and sinister part of that family that would not become known for several more months. It began in the shadows so it won’t survive in the light. This story has one more part. Keep reading!

“Munchausen By Proxy is a desire to have attention and pity at the same time. So maybe all narcissists have Munchausen By Proxy.”

-Unknown

Affirmation: “I am resilient, and I can overcome challenges.”

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

 

darnold1975

Are You A “Cycle Breaker?”

“Never underestimate a cycle breaker. Not only did they experience years of generational trauma, but they stood in the face of the trauma and fought to say, “This ends with me.” This comes at a significant cost. Never underestimate a cycle breaker.”

-Nate Postlewait

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about being a “cycle breaker.” This has been one of the most difficult areas of my life. There have been and still are areas of my life where I’m determined to break the cycle of unhealthy thoughts, behaviors and relationships. Even if you think that your family should be the “example family” for the community, there are probably still issues within your particular family system that has left a legacy of a behavioral way of life. Sometimes this is healthy, dysfunctional or toxic. Even if it appears to primarily affect one person, it’s still an unhealthy family cohesiveness.

I think we first must understand what a “cycle breaker” is. This individual is intentionally trying to change multi-generational family patterns. They have to get down in the gutters into family origins of the behaviors to seek out unhealthy patterns. This person must achieve deep introspection and intentional behavior changes. And “Oh how very frustrating this can be.”

I have already written many times about how familial patterns can affect us all. What frustrated me as a minor was that I felt completely powerless to change anything including myself. What I did was take on the role of a survivor in any way possible. I fought back in ways that scared people. I have fought back in ways that isolated myself. Sometimes I get so triggered by a tone, word or a statement that it throws me back into that fighting stance. And I developed armor that worked so incredibly well for self-preservation. By the time I reached adulthood, the armor that my mind created for itself was one that knew no bounds. Every day of my life involved a fight for survival. But even when I removed myself from the abuse, my brain still thought that it was “fight time.” So, the chaos followed me everywhere I went. I so desperately wanted away from the chaos. But the fact of the matter was that I didn’t know how to operate in healthy relationships.

When I met Mel, I had just left my ex-husband. I had my goal of completing my education and there was nothing that would prevent me from finishing. Somehow, I just knew that education would make a significant difference in my life. What we soon realized was how very deeply rooted my lifetime of trauma was in my ability to function as a professional, spouse, mother, friend and family member. I honestly thought that once I left “him” things would go back to a healthier version of normal. But it absolutely did not! I would have uncontrollable rages that scared everyone that I came in contact with. Many times, I have no recollection of this happening. Then Mel started videoing me when I was like that to show professionals what was happening. She would also show me the video and I was horrified. I clearly remember telling her, “I would never do something like that!” But frame by frame I watched it happen repeatedly. Perplexed by the whole situation, I began trying to really understand my behavior. I didn’t have a therapist, at the time, who could tell me what was happening. I did eventually receive the diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder which answered many questions.

The more I studied myself, the more that I realized that I was carrying on the cycle of past traumas. While my armor worked for many years, it had suddenly become very detrimental. I looked at Mel one day and said, “Oh My God! I’m treating you like he treated me.” To come to that realization was the defining moment of when I decided that I would be a “cycle breaker.” And what a terribly slow and arduous process it has been. I didn’t know how to think. I didn’t understand the intense emotions that I was feeling. And I couldn’t stop the rage no matter what I did. I saw the destruction that I was causing and the effects that it was having on both me and Mel. And it was honestly one of the most devastating points in my life.

I initially had a very compassionate therapist in Albuquerque. Though the depth of my trauma needed more specialization. So, I went to another therapist, who was extremely narcissistic, and began emotionally abusing me. She knew all of my trauma history, but she still dominated me emotionally. And I “cow towed” to her like I was still being controlled by the ex. I stayed much longer than I should’ve. And the damage that was done was colossal.


Mel contacted a professional at a facility and told her about how dire our situation was. It was over a year before I finally decided to go to treatment. I have had some horrible experiences with mental health facilities. And the trauma of that also made me strike out in fear and anger. It’s almost like having a baby with a colic. No matter where I turned, I was scared, and it showed. But through my trauma, I learned that nicely asking someone to stop or leave me alone didn’t work. What did seem to work was aggression. However, now there were no actual threats. They were perceived threats. I felt like I could trust no one. I was drowning in shame and regret. And I was literally dying.

The therapist that I would work with at that facility was absolute fire. She sat with me and truly made a place that was emotionally very safe for me. She provided boundaries that were firm but compassionate. She didn’t show fear about the anger that I was exhibiting. And unbelievably, I was furious that she cared. Because in my mind, everyone has a dark side even those who say their “safe.” And this spicy lady knew her stuff. After my experiences, I saw where the power difference was threatening. I was scared to be vulnerable, yet again, knowing that I could get hurt.

That woman is someone I still call my “coach.” We have been working together for almost 9 years, and because I eventually stepped out into vulnerability and realized that she was truly a “safe” person that she claimed, I started wanting to change the person that I had become. I needed to know the love and compassion in a way that only a stranger can exhibit. And I needed to know that the difficult road ahead would not be one that I would walk alone. I needed to know that when things got bad, she wouldn’t leave me standing with the pieces of my shattered soul in disbelief that it could and would happen again. And she’s been my “ride or die” ever since. 

The process has been going on for almost a decade of trying to break the cycle of abuse. It has been more difficult than I care to admit. Along the way, many times the only thing I was able to do in a day was breathe. She stepped up when others said, “Hell No,” to helping me. And despite so many times that I have tried to push her away, she has stayed right there witnessing the miracle happening. 

Our families of origin often have problems with healthy functionality. Instead of addressing issues within the system, they say, “Oh we’ll just let it all die down and eventually the issue will go away.” But it doesn’t. In my experience of helping addicts who usually also have mental health issues, the families are often times sicker than the “problem child.” There have been generations of a one-way type of thinking that families think and assert their beliefs that it should continue simply because it’s familial. However, when you look closer the “cycle breaker” , they are sometimes seen as a troublemaker because they step out from the familial shadows and say, “Enough is enough. I will no longer buy into that way of thinking. I will no longer allow unhealthy behaviors to be swept under the rug  and conform like I’m expected to do.”

I have had members in my family that have looked at me crazy and run me in the ground for speaking my truth the minute I walk away. And there are some who won’t even acknowledge my existence. These issues never get resolved and are the perfect breeding ground for anger and resentment. And it has continued to fester in my family. Whenever you become vulnerable and stand in your truth, there will be those who inevitably do not like it. Because challenging unhealthy behaviors isn’t easy. It requires a level of vulnerability and self-awareness that most individuals and families want but aren’t willing to do the work to achieve it.

For me, breaking the cycle of dysfunctional thinking and living has been paramount to my survival. I realized that I had to be willing to look at some difficult areas of my life. And to understand many of their origins. I have cried more tears than I can count in doing this work. My relationship with Mel was severely damaged because I wasn’t able to undo the destruction that I had caused. No matter how much I didn’t understand it. No matter how much I didn’t want it to happen. It still did.

I came back from that treatment facility, and I told her, “She’s the one.” And about a year later, I told Mel, “If I don’t move to Texas and do this work, I won’t be alive much longer.” So, as difficult as it was to leave her, I left for Texas. I’ve never regretted my decision. I am living because I got “sick and tired of being sick and tired.” And now when I see red flags about chaos, I do my best to avoid it. However, I will not be pushed around emotionally. I will not have my reality questioned because others are not self-aware enough to realize their own dysfunctional behaviors. That, my friends, is all the confirmation that I need to know that, YES, I am a “cycle breaker.” I might not can change everything. But I can change me. I have the power to break the cycle, and I am doing it. It is becoming my greatest legacy for myself, my children and a little corner of humanity.

“It’s up to us to break generational curses when they say, “it runs in the family” you tell them, “this is where it runs out!”

–The Minds Journal

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Did He Say Puberty?

“Other than dying, I think puberty is about as rough as it gets.”

-Rick Springfield

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about that horrible stage in life called PUBERTY! I know, I know. I feel like I just got acid dumped on me for saying that name. These days I have found the evil older sister called menopause. 

I personally don’t know how I got through puberty. I started understanding the confusion of being gay. The hormonal changes made me psycho. I began learning about relationships and how they change. I remember thinking that I took everything so personally. Horrible trauma was a constant. I became an addict in so many different ways. I was also incredibly impulsive. I don’t ever remember considering the consequences about anything. It was all about if “they” said no, DO IT! Little did I know, I would get permanently stuck in that developmental age. My body might’ve gotten older but I have not really aged emotionally. Trauma manages to stunt your emotional growth. And I was going through more than my fair share while my brain was still developing.

I was never taught boundaries growing up. I didn’t have any personal boundaries and perpetrators are boundaryless by nature. It was the perfect set up for things to go horribly wrong and they did. Our class went through so much trauma within about five years that we had to grow up incredibly fast. By the time I was a senior, I was emotionally searching for something that could provide me with some kind of hope. And that’s when my ex-husband made his predatory move. Many of us have become addicts in different ways. And sadly, many of my classmates have attempted suicide, completed suicide, died from drug overdoses or have gone to prison. It was so tumultuous, in fact, that I totally retract at the mention of the word.

As I have watched my oldest son, Marshall, go head first into that time period, I would be lying if I didn’t say how scared I am for him. The world is so much more violent. Bullying is much worse. Suicides and murders are out of control. School shootings are happening all over the country. Predators show even less restraint. Depending on where you live in the United States being free to express your sexuality can also be very traumatic. Pressure about having perfect grades and being accepted into top college programs has stolen the happiness of a child’s developmental process. And then there’s fentanyl that tops it all. I hate to sound like an old fart by saying that the world was just different then but it was. 

I think now there’s more emphasis on developmental mental health which is always a positive. Cell Phones have been able to record evidence of some of these covert things especially with abusive teachers. And finally these kids have the proof that administrators can’t blow off. But the shame and rejection by families and society doesn’t make life any easier. Perpetrators whether they be peers or adults still operate in the same way. Threats and intimidation is what keeps kids silent and in constant fear. And you put all of that onto a teen and they just can’t handle it. I have overheard people talking about suicide and the person said, “Sometimes life is just too damn hard for these kids.” I know my kids well and I pay attention to everything that I can while co-parenting with their other mom and her partner. We all have a very open type of relationship. However, it scares the absolute shit out of me, because most people thought that I was perfectly fine. And I was the farthest thing from that.

You can follow all the latest research and suggested ways of raising a child but they can still carry with them their own darkness even in plain sight. I would hope that my boys would come to me for anything. But the truth is, that may or may not happen and the consequences can be devastating. And if that’s not resolved in a healthy way then they carry that emotional weight into adulthood. It will be interesting 20 years from now to see the problems that these kids have as adults. Because the struggles that kids are facing now will resurface in some way.

I have laughed many times at the funny sides of puberty by watching my kids. Especially when little brother,Copeland, and his frustrations with Marshall. Sometimes it’s just plain hilarious. At 10 years old, he asks his own questions about puberty. I try to be mature about some of it but it’s a futile effort. Sometimes I laugh so hard that I can hardly breathe. Copeland loves to call his brother out anytime he gets the chance. Not to mention the fact that bathing is an evil necessity and seems to be the main thing that gets in the way of their happiness at this moment. Here is an example of a conversation that I witnessed one day:

Me:  “What’s that smell?”

Copeland: “Probably my brother.”

Marshall:  “Why did you say that?” 

Copeland: “Because it’s true! Momma Mel said that you stink and it’s a sign of puberty. Even if you don’t have hair on your balls yet.”

I made a quick stop to the bathroom because my bladder can’t handle as much laughter as it once did. Whew…I met it half way.  I had to laugh into a towel. 

I asked them:

Copeland: “Puberty and why he stinks.” 

Me: “What are y’all talking about?”

(I start giggling) 

I cannot seem to be mature about certain topics. And this was a stunning example.

Copeland: “Momma Mel says that you get hair everywhere.”

Me: “Yep one day you’ll have hairy tits, pits and a ball-fro on your cherries.” 

(We all laughed.)

Me: Now who wants the shower first? Nuts and butts!!! Let’s go!!!

At this time in my life, I do my best to still laugh at their innocence. We take one day and one argument at a time. I correct them when I need to . But I also let them have the freedom to say what they feel that they need to say within reason.  And I help them the best I can to deal with feelings. I also let them know that feelings are just feelings and they don’t last forever. So that when they’re almost fifty years old they don’t have to suffer with not ever knowing that the concept ever existed. So, maybe, just maybe, they can begin to understand that emotions aren’t terminal. And that all the power that they need is found from within themselves instead of in all the temptations on the outside that lead to even bigger problems.. And they won’t be forever stuck in an insufferable and totally self-obsessed hell.

“Raising teens is like nailing jello to a tree.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Reality Of Staying Stuck

“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But, nothing is as painful as staying stuck where you do not belong.”

-N.R.Nargyana Murthy

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about something that everyone goes through called “staying stuck.” I, personally, can get really bogged down in my trauma at times as evidenced in my writing. And for a time, it is what it is. But staying stuck is a whole different thing.

”My sweet, sweet Sarah used to use this analogy about addiction recovery. She said, “There is a sidewalk. When you walk down the sidewalk you fall into a hole. You get back up and start from the beginning; walk down the sidewalk; falling into the same hole. And you keep repeating this same behavior achieving the same results. Unless you choose to go around that same hole by making different decisions then nothing changes.” What she was talking about is how in addiction nothing changes, if nothing changes. The same goes for relationships and personal growth.

In all of my years of therapy, I never saw how this applied until about eight years ago when someone took the time to continuously explain this concept to me. I can go along somewhat enjoying the ride of life and then I fall into a pit. Sometimes I can pull myself out pretty quickly and sometimes it just takes time to get back on track. This can and has been very frustrating to people who think that you can talk about topics in therapy and that should be the end of the issues. That is NOT how trauma and therapy works.

“And when you find yourself lost in the darkness and despair, remember it’s only in the black of night you see the stars.”

-Coach Whitey Durham, One Tree Hill

Everyday is a new day with a new set of challenges. And sometimes things that trigger my trauma come from all directions. The point is to continually move forward even if you can barely crawl and have battle wounds. This does NOT have a time limit. What takes others “x” amount of time to move through an issue might be crippling to me or vice versa. This does not mean that you are right and I am wrong. It is what it is. 

People who have never been in therapy this concept is inconceivable. Coach still works on me all the time about not staying stuck. That is her job. My job is having the willingness to continue being coached. If you have that type of mutual respect for both sides of the relationship, then there is no possible way for you not to win in the long run.

I have always and will continue to be coachable. Sometimes your thinker is just plain “broke” and you need someone who can see a situation objectively and tell you the honest truth. A lot of people can’t handle the truth and allow their egos to get in the way of progress. So, they leave therapy thinking that the therapist is being mean because their feelings were not cottled in a way that was comfortable. In that case, you would be better off cuddling with a stuffed animal.

“If you were born with the weakness to fall you were born with the strength to rise.”

-Rupi Kaur

Another thing that I have learned while working with coach, is that I am NOT responsible for other people’s feelings. I am responsible for only my own. If I’m struggling and others don’t like what they see, then it’s their problem not mine. My job is to continue moving forward in whatever way possible. Also, if you encounter relationships where one person is putting forth the effort to make the relationship work and the other person is refusing to own up to their own mistakes then the relationship will eventually fizzle out.

For so many years, I felt guilty for how other people felt good or bad. And I was made to feel that it was somehow my responsibility. In the same breath, I was told that whatever emotions or thoughts I was experiencing was a false reality. That is called gaslighting. I would assume responsibility for situations that were not mine. And I learned systematically not to trust my own thoughts and feelings because they were, in some way, always wrong. All I was left with was frustration and disappointments because I was trying to control a situation that was not meant to be controlled. I have also been given “rules” that the opposing person did not or would not honor in the same respect. I developed an anger about that which has taken years to try and work through. I still get triggered in relationships in that way. However, I am much more comfortable standing my ground and being very forthcoming about how the unequal balance of responsibility is unfair and unacceptable.

I have learned over time that people are sometimes only in our lives for a reason or a season then and they have served their purpose. I simply take time out of emotion to thank the universe for the blessings. I then thank the universe for sending them on their way. This can mean friends, acquaintances, co-workers, bosses and even family. I sometimes get stuck trying to force relationships that have run their course. However, I am now strong enough to stand by my convictions regarding the unequal balance of expectations with myself and others. I will not fight for a relationship when others decide that they don’t want to put forth the same effort. All the backbiting and manipulation that others use to try and control thoughts and behaviors is something that I have learned to identify. My personal trauma has taught me that drama is scary. And once that begins, I back out.

That does not mean that the feelings I experience are painless. It’s my choice to stay in those horrible feelings of anger and regret. It is also my choice to say, “I’ve had enough and I’m moving on.” Many times those decisions are very difficult. I will not try to hold someone captive if they don’t see where that the relationship is no longer beneficial, even if that’s family. I will trust that your decision is best for you. And I expect the same.

Life is not easy. Relationships are difficult on the best of days.  No one can make difficult decisions for you. And no one should expect for someone else to step in and run interference for you when things are difficult. I don’t want that and I don’t like that. It is just not how I operate. It’s essential for you to put on your “big girl/man panties” and handle things yourself. Instead of waiting for your “prince charming” to step in and do it for you. That is your responsibility not anyone else’s.

If you’re not in therapy, you probably need to be. Everyone can benefit from working on themselves to become a better person. Everyone can improve even if you think you have it all together. Most people fear therapy because of the element of the unknown. They also don’t want to have any part of therapy because they don’t want to be “analyzed.” Ummmm…that is a therapist’s job. So, stop coming up with excuses for why you fear facing your own imperfections. Therapy is not for the faint of heart. If you don’t have the intestinal fortitude to put forth the effort and face both the good and bad parts of yourself, then quit complaining when you feel inadequate. You have no one to blame but the person in the mirror.

Don’t go looking for a therapist that doesn’t challenge irrational thoughts in order for things to make you feel comfortable. That fosters a situation where you won’t grow but will, in turn, help you to remain stuck. The culmination of this blog is the idea that comfort zones are where dreams go to die. And at the end of the day if you are ok with your decisions, then proceed with life unapologetically. If not, there’s always tomorrow. As always, take what you can use and leave the rest. And thanks for reading!

“Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.”

-Joshua J. Marine

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

You’re Not My God

“At first, addiction is maintained by pleasure, but the intensity of this pleasure gradually diminishes and the addiction is then maintained by the avoidance of pain.”

-Frank Tallis

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today I want to talk to you about a topic that is very near and dear to me. The topic is Addiction. I have been on all sides of this issue. I have been an addict that began to struggle early on in my teen years. I eventually went to get my bachelor’s degree in Psychology. Then onto getting my Master’s degree in counseling. And then went on to work in the field of addiction. And I have seen the havoc this problem has caused both in my own family and in other’s as well. 

As a thirteen year-old, I was subjected to horrible verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of a teacher. The abuse was absolutely the most stressful time of my life up until that point. I was given a set of rules that I had to follow that was not reciprocated by the adults who set them. I can’t tell you how emotionally and physically trapped I felt sitting in that closet and berated every single day for a year. I was also humiliated in front of my class of peers. I was also sent to the office with disciplinary forms for things that I did not do. That’s not to say that I was completely innocent. I would verbally strike out at that teacher a few times intentionally in order to get in-school suspension just to get a day or two break from her verbal aggression.  Knowing now how underdeveloped a child’s brain is in this time period helps me understand the whys and hows of this horrible behavior and how it begins and continues. 

My first time using it was during an emotional time that was so chaotic for me. The “perfect storm” had started brewing previously for approximately two years before I ever began. And as it appears, I wasn’t the only teen in my graduating class who would have some of the same struggles. I had suppressed a lot of the memories about my molestation at an early age. I always had a smile on my face and was laughing as much as possible. However, the underpinnings of addiction were looking for a way into my soul. And it would be the disaster that would follow me into my adult years. 

In my life, addiction would not begin as a few substances here and there recreationally like some stories. My situation presented itself at a time where I could no longer handle both the wait of depression and ongoing trauma. I felt emotionally that I was trapped and that no one was there for me in any way. So, I took my first opiates and I was in love. I would be in this type of committed relationship for many years to come. I didn’t see the horns and pitchfork that it carried. I saw it as the best friend that always provided relief and was non-judgmental. It was there to comfort me when comfort was not around. And for the moment, the evil words and actions of that teacher would be drowned out even if it was only for an hour.

I have had several people since then say to me, “Why didn’t you tell someone about what was going on?” The truth is I did and no one believed me. I told my principals but my reputation for being a “class clown” was apparently stronger than the actual truth. When the teacher received word that I had told them, nothing was resolved. The abuse only got worse. Eventually not only would I develop a chemical addiction, I would also have a process of addiction by way of self-harm and eating disorders.

When I began self-harming I was, once again, sent to the office only for the object that I had been stuck into my hand to be covered up and sent back to class. Once I got back to class, I was put on display in front of the class and made to feel less than once again. To those that always say that self-harm is “attention seeking” behavior I can tell you this. I never wanted a trophy for the number of scars that I wear on my body today. I wanted the pain to stop. Not every behavior is about a Tik-Tok or Facebook challenge. And it certainly wasn’t for me. Maybe it was a cry for help. However, those cries fell on deaf ears. 

I had begun to notice the amount of anger that was building inside of me daily. And I was scared to death of what that might look like if it ever got free. Sitting with those intense emotions might get buried for the moment, but they will surface. And no matter how much you try to further suppress them, they come out on whoever happens to be around when the “straw that breaks the camel’s back” gets laid down. The scars that you can now see are plentiful. But it’s the scars that you can’t see that outnumber the others by a long shot. 

I continue to struggle hard with addiction despite a vast knowledge and experience working with other addicts. Addiction isn’t something that you can outthink. And to those that think it’s about “willpower,” consider it “willpower” the next time you struggle with diarrhea. You cannot imagine the hold that it can have on you if you’ve never had that hold on you. And if you can socially drink and use and it doesn’t reach the point of addiction consider yourself lucky. The bad part is that you don’t know if you’ll become addicted until you try it. And I cannot think of a more perfect game of russian roulette to play. A little felt good. And a lot was not enough.

The fact that I have not died of addiction and others have left me in utter bewilderment. And yet I know that there is a bullet with my name on it each time I pull that trigger trying once again to just be comfortable in my own skin. Addiction is so cunning, baffling and powerful in ways that many don’t understand. And I have seen it ravage the lives of people and those they love to a point where my jaw drops. Even with all of that being said, I still don’t have a healthy fear of addiction. And I’m not sure that I ever will.

As a parent, I can only hope that my own children will choose a way that is more healthy even when times are difficult. And that if they are in some way being harmed that they won’t stay quiet and be covered in shame the way that bullies and perpetrators expect them to be. Get help immediately if you see that you or someone you love has an addiction. I have been in therapy for several years now and I still struggle with this horrible thing called addiction. The name just the label that is given to the substance or behavior that presents itself as a caring and compassionate friend that is waiting to cut our throats. 

“Recovery is not a race.You don’t have to feel guilty if it takes you longer than you thought it would.”

-Anonymous

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

“My Sarah, My Friend”

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today marks the 10th anniversary since Sarah died. Recently, I have done some work in therapy about her loss.  What I’ve learned is how traumatic events never seem to lose their power. While it’s always been very upsetting to me to live without her. Re-experiencing those moments with the full force of emotions is decapitating my soul. And I truthfully, had no idea that I carried that much emotional exhaustion.  

I have been asked before “why do you refer to her as like a God?” To me Sarah wasn’t just a friend. She was so many things to me. But most of all she was my hero. I sought her guidance as a struggling alcoholic/drug addict. But years later and the respect for a seemingly genuine woman progressed to a relationship where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance for no other reason than because I existed. I just needed someone who cared on all levels. And it was her.

I hungered for the peace that she seemed to carry around in her soul. I watched her from all angles and she was the most authentic person I had ever seen. And I was very intrigued. She was the same no matter where she went. Our very close relationship was like a “maternal mentor.” I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about her “road to peace and serenity.” There was a mutual space that we held for each other with the utmost respect. She was my “safe person.” 

We spent many hours talking about life and the broken roads we had both taken. And I saw how she had risen. And how I was barely breathing. Over the years she became my “Mr. Miyagi” and my “Yoda.” Every Time I was around her I learned another lesson about life. And it was exactly what I needed. And I flourished. I had begun to rebuild my shattered self-confidence, self-worth, self image and the idea that I was entitled to love, happiness and belongingness just like everyone else. 

I continued to struggle with addiction for a while. And Oh the boundaries. Anyone that knew her also knew that she was a boundary setting “queen.” Boundaries were placed before me many, many times. That was just something else that she taught me. 

It wasn’t “rules” coming from an authority figure with her. It was simply teaching me about boundaries and standing up when they are tested. And she also taught me about our own boundaries and why we deserve for them to be respected. I realized that my way of thinking was courtesy of generational patterns of insanity. She praised individuality, autonomy and authenticity.

I began to notice that I was changing.  My thinking, heart, conscience, was all changing for the better.  I needed the stability of someone who was loving and consistent. And I’m sorry but there are just not that many people like that who possess both qualities. And I thanked God everyday for the blessings I received that allowed me to be open enough to experience “love” for the first time since stepping onto the gravel of my broken road.  

I had, once again,  found that passion for life and the ability to succeed which was lost for many years. I began excelling as a student. And I realized that I was not too dumb to learn. And about the symbolism of the Phoenix in Greek Mythology. The symbol of the camel in 12-step recovery. And about living life on life’s terms. And about her walk with Jesus. And how life is about acceptance even if it’s not the hand that you wanted dealt. The woman I speak of I would’ve laid down my life for. And I still will at the speaking of her name.  

And when she died, I’ve been unable to move past my grief.  Instead I burned every bridge that I could. And I found dreams and ambitions in the safe confine of isolation slowly withering away. I guess over the years I never saw having to live life without her or her guidance.  But here we are. And her absence is more than I can bear.

I exist but I no longer live. I keep chasing the monster that keeps chasing me. Again I am the shell of who I used to be. Shouldn’t her memory and advice propel me past that? Shouldn’t living a life that I know would please her give me the energy to help me carry on?  Maybe. But my heart feels none of that. I am paralyzed by fear, grief, loneliness, sadness and debilitating depression. But I do have my memories. I guess sometimes, though, the wounds are just too great. 

“The absence of your loved one will lead to a profound wound of their loss that will never completely mend. But they will forever reside in your heart and will remain partially broken.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video at the end!!!***

#Thispuzzledlife