Bittersweet Endings

 

 

Endings. 

I don't know why this hit me so hard today, but as I was going through my email alerts on my phone, I came across a post from USPS which shows physical photos of the mail you will be expecting that day to arrive.

Today was the first (another "First") where there was no mail that was addressed to either parent.

This stung bad for some reason.

Maybe subconsciously it was a comfort to see their names even though I know they are no longer here on earth, on something tangible that showed their existence. Maybe getting their mail, I took it as a "sign" from the universe that they are "still around" even though I cannot see them, hear them, touch them.

 I knew that one day I wouldn't be receiving their mail anymore. I didn't think that day would be today.

I didn't think that I would be reduced to tears staring at an empty mailbox that once held copious amounts of mail & packages addressed to my mom & Carl. It's almost haunting as absurd as that sounds.

Another day, Another "First", and I hate them both equally.

Not today, Satan....

 

As if the universe wasn't tossing enough "jokes" my way lately, it tries to top itself by having my former supervisor who had essentially trashed my reputation with "Bob", and made me largely unemployable for damn near a YEAR after I left the company whom I was working under her for, by getting a Facebook DM from the devil herself.

This bitch is extremely delusional thinking I would ever want to hear from her or about her ever in my life ever again!

Initially I just ignored and did not open the message, but as the days wore on, she just kept adding to her unread messages to me for a total of 3. 

I realize this should be "water under the bridge" and to "forgive and forget." 

Fuck No! I'm going to allow myself to be a petty bitch and remember EVERYTHING she said and had done behind my back to damn near destroy my career because it was evident she was a shit-tastic supervisor.

I have ALL the emails and messages where she is blatantly backstabbing me and not to mention close friends of hers admitted to my face that she was setting me up for failure. It was also said she would do anything to keep her job. Read: Lie & backstab to make her look innocent and have others take the fall for her. 

I wasn't the first of her "victims" either. 

But she will be MY last.

As much as I wanted to ream her a new one, I just blocked her. Blocked her from Facebook, Instagram, from my life. Pretty sure she's on TikTok so I'll have to block her there as well if I find her. 

Until then, RIP 

Ghosts from the past

 

So today had a couple of "jokes" of its own; specifically that of an ex-boyfriend from 1992-93.

I am generally not on Facebook as I find it to be a constant source and stream of drama that I just do not have the intellectual stomach for. I much prefer the simplicity and photography that is on Instagram.

Anyway, I had a message come in via Facebook Messenger this morning from someone I haven't thought of in literal decades; an ex. We will call him "Tom."

 Tom and I had dated in the early 90's, we met in High School and initially HATED each other.

It was my BFF at the time and his BFF that were dating that brought us together. It was a volatile relationship at best, but that is what seriously conflicting values and teenage stupidity will do to you.

I was co-dependent and bored, and he was immature and enjoyed recreational drug use.

This was not a relationship that was going to last. I was too "uptight" and "straight-laced", and he refused to grow up and stop with the drug use.

We broke up, but stayed friends after a cooling off period. He started hanging out with my friend and I, we would go out clubbing practically every weekend. Tom kept hinting on getting back together, but I think I was interested in and seeing someone else... I vaguely remember some punk ass dude that invited us to his Halloween Party and thank god Tom heard me yelling because he broke down the door to the room I was in with this guy who's name I can't recall, to pull him off me.

We left the party after that. I was ready to get the hell out of there! And I think Tom was protective and jealous. 

I don't remember when I stopped talking to Tom, I do remember him telling me that he wasn't happy with his life and didn't seem to have a clear healthy direction to take it in, so he was joining the military.

It wasn't a bad idea seeing as all his friends were going off to college, getting married, moving on with their lives and he was stuck in this sort of holding pattern.

By then, I had been dating someone else, fled the state to get away from said person (they wanted kids and marriage. I was TOO YOUNG to be thinking about that!) and ended up in Texas where I wanted to pursue my Veterinary Degree. 

During my time in Texas, I'm not sure how, but we ended up getting into contact with one another. We had a couple of conversations and then he just blurted out: "Do you want to get married?"

And then there is me on the other end of the phone with my mouth hanging open and a shocked look on my face. The very thing I jumped on a plane to get away from: Marriage.

 After I declined the offer, communication just dropped off and we went on with our lives.

Fast Forward to about 3-4 years ago, I ended up catching up with an old high school friend at dinner where Tom's name got brought up. He had been absent from my thoughts since 1996, until she brought him up.

I was reliably informed that after Tom got back home from the military, he resumed his life as if nothing changed. He went back to his old destructive ways that included alcohol and drug use. Both of which I never want in my own life, so I knew to steer clear of him.

Now after 29 years, he popped back up into my life and my Facebook DM's.

We had a very brief conversation; I immediately saw where it was "heading" towards and told a little white lie about me being engaged. That stopped the conversation in its tracks. 

I won't lie and say I wasn't curious about Tom and what has been happening since the last time we spoke, but I'm not curious enough to let someone back into my life who hasn't grown up and has a pretty obvious substance abuse problem.

Some things are better left in the past, and should not be repeated.

I believe this is a perfect example of just that.

Jugular vs. Carotid

 

Yesterday I was reminded of a blog that I had constructed quite a few years back that was dedicated to someone who meant the world to me (and still does), and within a few minutes of trying to locate the blog address, I was transported back to the memories & feelings of that time.

I plan on keeping that blog address to myself for personal reasons. But I liken that blog to a "Jugular Vein", and this one to the "Carotid Artery."

I say that as both vessels are crucial for one's survival, but one more "delicate in a way" than the other.

Jugular Veins, while "exposed" can pose a health threat, they are veins which when damaged, usually collapse and can prevent (to a degree) death by exsanguination. 

Carotid Arteries are much more complicated than that. 

Those, if cut or damaged, can lead to massive blood loss and death within mere minutes if not attended to by a qualified medical professional. So "exposing mine" here online in a blog that is made Public, is my version of it.

 Little by little I have been blogging about things I would never have told anyone, much less put in print on a public platform. Experiences and feelings that if used against me, would emotionally send me into a tailspin from which I don't know that I could recover from... until now.

I guess most people would call it being an "Exposed Nerve", whereas for me, my life and everything in it was something that I viewed that could "kill me." Not the case anymore as much. I'm still struggling in some areas, and others I have thrown caution to the wind and have a IDGAF attitude about.

So what does all of this have to do with that other blog of mine? Plenty.

In that other blog, I saw at how much I had held back on true emotions, feelings, and much needed information. I held back because it hurt to feel the true weight of everything I was writing about. 

While I didn't lie on those posts, there was a great deal of what I didn't say. 

I guess I didn't feel that I needed to be THAT honest; especially assuming strangers or maybe even the person it was meant for, would read it. 

I had abandoned it for years as there was some major life events that happened in my family so blogging was something that I didn't find to be a priority, much less something I had time to dedicate to.

I tend to get kind of "long winded" and end up with a mild form of carpal tunnel by the time I'm done typing. 

Still no excuse. But that was my reasoning for abandoning the blog at the time. Do not ask me why the old one came to mind to me that day, I have no idea why. Maybe the person it was written for was on my mind. They never have not been. 

They were one of my very best friends in the world and so many times when something happened in my life, I wanted to run to them (and my folks) to tell them what happened, going on, etc... 

Now, I have neither. I just have myself and that has been quite the adjustment. So has allowing myself to express myself openly and truly heal from a lot of things. 

I allowed myself to go through the whole blog because I had largely forgotten exactly what I had written all those years ago. The basic theme I never forgot. 

It was filled with messages of love, apologies, and best of all: memories. Some of my mom that I had forgotten.

Forgetfulness has always been a way of life for me, so blogging helped keep those memories intact. I'm glad I typed those posts and kept them 💖 

If I had to do it all based on my own memory, I'd be screwed.

Maybe that was why I cruised on over to that old blog... There were good memories with my mom and I in there. One of which where I took her to a restaurant that I went to with my friend many years ago, and it turned out that it was the same place that my dad took her for a first date many years before.

I never knew that until she said something, and I am glad that I took the time to write it down. 

It was a rare occasion that she and I shared that was a GOOD memory. Those I am desperately trying to hang onto. That blog post sparked that. 

There were photos that I long forgot about that brought a smile to my face, and some posts that brought tears to my eyes. Showing that in that moment, I was indeed in a lot of pain and could have used some professional help. Even though I was already seeing a therapist, she was not nearly as helpful or effective as the one I have now. 

If anything, she didn't do shit. Just took my insurance money and gave little to no help. 

There's a memory I'd like to forget.

I'm proud of myself in a way. Proud of myself because instead of repeating the pattern of saying just enough but not all, I have done the opposite here. 

I have been not exactly forcing myself to be an "open book" for all to see, rather than allowing myself to be OK if people know the good, the bad, the ugly about me, and the things I have been through. 

Everyone has stories that they are not proud of, myself included. That old blog reminds me of that time in my life that I was not the best person, period. 

It serves as a reminder of what I don't want to be, and to remind me of the friendship that I once had. That people like that do indeed exist and to hold out for those, instead of the ones who "breadcrumb" you. 

Like the saying goes: "Know who is Gold, and who is simply Gold Plated."

I wish I could discern better between the two 😔

Nightmares & Dreamscapes

 

REM Cycles are funny things... at least in my world in the past few nights.

Almost nightly I had experienced a mixture of "normal" dreams and 1 that was sort of a nightmare. I will explain that one in a minute.

Even though my mom and I did not have what I would consider a happy Mother/Daughter relationship, I still love and miss her. My dreams have proven that. 

I was pretty surprised that I had 2 dreams almost back-to-back that had her in them, but the real surprise was seeing my aunt! I had dreamt about my aunt Charlotte many many years ago, she appeared in my dream as a waitress on roller skates in a red curly haired wig, and some crazy make up. Somehow, I knew it was her but sadly I didn't pay much attention to her. I could kick my own ass for that one.

My aunt Charlotte committed suicide in the 90's. She was one of my favorite family members, and definitely my favorite aunt. My mom and her were very close, her death rocked the family something fierce.

I will never forget the look on my grandmother's face when she was looking down at her youngest daughter in a coffin. This wasn't the first child of hers that she had to bury; thankfully it was the last.

I hold very fond memories of my aunt Charlotte and always will. I wish she was still here. Especially now. 

OK, getting back to the original subject of this post: my dreams.

I usually fall asleep watching/listening to various YouTube videos, and apparently the one I was listening to, I ended up dreaming about in the strangest way.

In this dream I ended up at this YouTuber's boyfriend's family's house where his brother and mother still resided. It was "present day" but they still had a Christmas Tree up and there was 1 present still under it.

I don't know why I looked in that direction, but noticed that the gift had a large envelope attached to the top of it and it was my mothers handwriting. Immediately the gift was handed to me by one of the brothers and I kept asking "Was she here?!?! Do you know this is MY Mom's handwriting?!?!?"

I remember being very confused and upset that I missed seeing my mother and wanted to know when & why she was there?... I was pointed in the direction to go down a hall to the mother's room and ask these pertinent questions. I showed her the envelope and she confirmed that Yes, my mom was there and she left me a gift.

In real life, Yes, my mom was alive during Christmas, but was mainly unconscious due to high dose pain meds that kept her pain under control. She did say earlier that year that we wouldn't be celebrating Christmas and made it seem like it was due to finances (which didn't bother me), not to what she knew was coming and had hid from everyone: her terminal Cancer.

In my dream I didn't open the gift, so I never knew what was inside that box, and I didn't open the card, so I never knew what it said. Somehow, I instinctively knew what was written was everything my mom wanted to say to me before she passed away. Somehow, I knew it was filled with apologies, explanations, and most of all: love for me.

It's weird how that knowing that in my dream, it means so much. I just wish I could have heard all of that before she passed. Maybe the dream was the "gift", and the wrapped box was a symbol of that. 

The next dream was a short one, and a real doozy!

This is where I had a second dream about my aunt Charlotte. This time she really knew how to get my attention... in my dream, she owned a horse.

Slight Backstory on this: as a child (and now) Horses have always been a deep love & obsession of mine. I begged my mom for one ever since I could remember, and instead of buying my first car, I bought a horse instead at 15. I've owned horses ever since. 

My aunt told my mom that she thought my mom needed to take me to see a doctor because the obsession with horses was seemingly unnatural to her and my aunt thought there was something mentally wrong with anyone who had such an attachment to any 1 thing. LOL if she only knew

Anyway, in my dream my aunt showed up as herself and she OWNED A HORSE.

Not just any horse, but one that is related to my current horse (expensive Championship show lines), but a stallion. 

OK... that's where I kind of lost my shit in my own dream. I was excited and shocked as hell that my aunt has a horse, BUT unless you are a breeder, there is NO NEED to own a stallion for any reason. 

Then she also had it at a training barn that I used to be at, with a trainer who was a good friend of mine.

The confusing part is that my aunt's stallion is a Western Pleasure bred horse, and this trainer trains Reining horses... 2 different disciplines. 

It was a short dream, like I said, but it was exciting and amusing at the same time.

Maybe this was my aunt's way to let me know "she's still there watching over me." Horses or no horses.

This last most recent dream was more like a nightmare of sorts but to a lessened degree.

True Story: When I was around 6-7 years of age, I had a Husband/Wife babysitting team that I went to after school while my mom was at work. 

Mavis & Gomez. 

They had a granddaughter named Amy who wasn't very nice to me, she was spoiled rotten, and used to bite me all the time. 

I think I know why she was always so angry and mean. It had to be as a result of the crap that she had to go through at that house. I'm sure there were things I never knew about, and really don't want to as a result of what I experienced myself there.

In real life, Gomez was a disgusting pedophile. I think Mavis knew this and that was why she kept Amy away from him as much as she could. 

I was fair game. 

Long story short, Gomez inappropriately touched me, and it freaked me out. I knew well enough what he did was WRONG, but as any fucked-up adult in his situation does, threatened to hurt me if I told on him. So, for years, I kept my mouth shut. 

It didn't go unnoticed that I would religiously avoid ALL men who wanted to touch me in any way (hugs, handshakes, etc) and it finally came out in a counselling session as to what happened so many years ago. My mother was mortified, pissed off, and called her ex (whom she was with at the time of the incident, and it was HIS recommendation to have that couple babysit me in the first place). 

He was absolutely floored and found out later that Gomez died on the kitchen floor of that house from a heart attack. Good Riddance!

Though I always wondered what happened to Amy and how she coped with the dysfunction she experienced.

Back to the dream. 

In my dream I was transported back to Mavis & Gomez's House of Horrors.

It was updated and redecorated, but it was still the same house. 

In my dream, my dog was with me as well. I guess she was there as a source of "comfort", and I was glad she appeared. The living room was the place where Gomez did his dirty deed, and there was a yellow couch that he was always found lying on watching the TV at the other end of the room. 

In my dream, there was no one home and I knew that by now, Mavis had passed on years before, so neither of them would be present there. It seemed that my dog and I were the only ones in that house. 

I don't know WHY I was there, though I do have a penchant for nostalgia. However, I could not imagine EVER wanting to remember anything that had to do with that time in my life, that house, and the people in them. But apparently in my dream, I was there for a reason.

What I found weird but not out of the ordinary, was that I pulled a camera out of my pocket to take photos of the place. I stood at the other end of the room where the TV would have been, to take a photo of the couch where I was violated by another man as a child. 

As I tried to take a photo of the "crime scene", I noticed that no matter how hard I tried, the camera would not focus.

I knew that it was "Gomez" that was blocking my shot. His unseen spirit was trying to cover up the photo of the place where he acted out his past indiscretions.

That was when I got super angry and told him to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY

I don't remember ever getting that pissed off in any dream, but Damn... I had it built up and he had it coming. If I ever saw him alive in real life as an adult, I probably would have beat the shit out of him. 

Epstein would have loved a man like Gomez. If that gives you any kind of indication of what he was like.

Anyway, after the failed attempt at photographing the couch in the living room, I started walking through the house to see what the rest of the rooms looked like.

I got to Mavis's old room and saw that there was indeed another person sleeping on the bed and the room was an absolute mess! Clothes basically flung everywhere, and the person was a female and face down asleep. I don't know who that was, but it was not Mavis or Amy. 

About that time was when I woke up, so I did not have time to find out who she was or see the rest of the house. That's OK... I really didn't want to be in that house anymore. Waking up was a blessing.

I hope to never dream about that house, or those people ever again. However, it was nice to know and "see" that I could incite a fit of rage if needed in a REM cycle.

The last dream I had with my mom in it, was unfortunately another short one. 

We were in a car where I was driving, and we were coming up to a toll booth (not sure where we were going or why there was a toll booth). I remember looking at her and telling her that I wished that God would allow me to still see and talk to her even though she was dead. Basically, having the ability to see/hear/conversate with her even if those around me could not see & hear what I do.

Mom was eating something from a Drive Thru so she couldn't speak but did smile at me, acknowledging me and what I had said. 

I woke up before we went through the toll booth, or before she could verbally say anything. 

I was happy to have seen and "spend time with her" again, but sad that I didn't get any direct communication from her. 

I'm grateful for what I am getting in my dreams from her and the rest of my family... but I will always want more.

Reasons, Seasons, and Lifetimes

 

So today was the equivalent of a "shit sandwich."

I know...  lovely choice of descriptives but honestly, this one slaps. The accuracy tho

I wasn't in the mood to be at work today in the first place, but probably the worst news was delivered during our Tuesday Meeting: my boss's boss gave his notice. 

I'd like to preface this post as I am well informed that it is almost never a good idea to blog/vlog/publish anything about your place of employment and it is generally avoided if you want to keep your job, but I'm willing to take that risk today. 

When it was announced that my boss's boss was no longer going to be a part of the company, I just stood there in the lab in complete shock. Like life just ripped the rug out from under me, leaving me to land on a bed of nails.

Without revealing too much, this person and I initially did not get on that well. I worked for them years ago at another laboratory but the supervisor that he had me report to, was extremely dishonest and lied her ass off about me to him. In turn, that made him very wary of me and inevitably causing me to leave the company I met him at.

There is a ton more to that story, but I really don't want to go back down that road mentally. Let's just say that a month and a half later, the supervisor I had reported to ended up leaving the company as well, but she was doing that it avoid being put on a Performance Improvement Plan. She jumped ship before that could happen to her. 

Fast forward 3 years later, I found myself face to face with my boss once more. I wasn't terribly excited about working with him again, especially after he allowed my direct supervisor to set me up for failure. I was taking the fall for her lies and mistakes. It was easy to blame everything on me and I was told that she would do anything to keep her job. Even if that meant she needed to be a snake about it.

It took a couple of months for me to relax around my old manager, but I'm glad I pushed through my fears because it turns out that I was completely wrong about him. I believed what my supervisor said and never questioned her.

At one point, my old manager (we will call him "Bob") and I commuted into work together. He lives just down the road from me. It worked well for a time, but he has the option to work from home, I do not. Commuting takes gas and bridge tolls, so the carpooling came to a halt, but it was great while it lasted.

This gave both of us the opportunity to get to know each other outside of work and I guess "bond" in a way. I learned A LOT about him and his background. I learned he was nothing like the monster that my previous supervisor made him out to be. 

I had made it my mission to show and prove to him that I was not that employee that my supervisor made me out to be.

 A colossal fuck up.

I'd like to believe in the last 2 years, I accomplished that mission. 

I've been reliably informed that he has spoken highly of my skills and teaching abilities which made me tear up on the spot. FINALLY, I got the validation I had been so badly seeking from him.

There was a part of me that just could not stand the thought of him not seeing or appreciating my skill sets, proficiency, and knowledge. I lost quite a bit of sleep over it.

Now, it will be crying myself to sleep (maybe not that dramatic, but there have already been tears).

One of my coworkers poked fun at the situation by saying that I would need to get a bobble head statue of "Bob" to step in as my "security blanket" in the lab. I would run to him quite frequently when I was unsure of a new procedure, walk through my thought process when assessing new techniques, or performing something technically difficult and needed him just to stand there... to be my "security blanket."

I'm fairly certain that he finds this attachment amusing and absurd. Especially since this is coming from a grown woman about his age. 

I'm not proud of it 😆

He was gracious to spend a few minutes in a conference room where I choked back tears while telling him that is was an honor to get to work with him again, as well as telling him a little bit about my favorite mentor from a previous job in 2001. Without her persistence and support, I don't think I would be where I am today career-wise. I am beyond grateful for her, and I was lucky enough to be blessed with another one of those humans in my lifetime: "Bob."

I couldn't let "Bob" leave the company without letting him how much his mentorship meant to me, and how I hold him in the same regard as my mentor.

He knows that this is a big deal as he also knows me well enough to know I'm not a fan of most people in general and avoid them as a result. At least I hope he knows. 

While I wanted to fall into a puddle of my own frustrations & tears, the title of this blog post came to me in an instant.

I was reminded of that quote about people come into your life either for a reason, season, or a lifetime.

I believe "Bob" was all 3.

The Reason: So I could rectify myself in his eyes and prove my former supervisor wrong (and anyone else who believed her bullshit about me).

The Season: Not everyone you meet in your life is meant to stay. This is especially hard for me as I have a hard time letting people go, even if it is in their best interest. I was tasked to learn and integrate new surgical models in house, I don't know how confident I would have been had he not been there for me to psychologically lean on. I needed the confidence, and "Bob" gave it to me in his own way.

"Bob's" time in my immediate life is done as of June 6th. Maybe he is needed elsewhere where he can be of guidance and mentorship to someone who needs it more than I do. 

I'm selfish. I don't want him to go, but I know he wants something different for himself. I can't blame him.

A Lifetime: I get to carry with and got to replace bad experiences & memories, with ones of deep respect and fondness. As I have stated before, I place and rank him just as high as my mentor. This is NOT easy to do, and I found it to be effortless. He's earned his spot at the podium in which I place only the best people on. He stayed with me when I was nervous about performing a new technique and gave me guidance when I needed/asked for it. 

I hope wherever his new job takes him, that they know what an amazing human being they have hired.

I am preemptively jealous of his new colleagues and wish I was one of them. 

He let me know that where he was going, they didn't have the type of lab or position I have worked in for the past 22 years. Hearing that broke my heart all over again, but I have to remember that not everyone is meant to stay in your life. And find the grace to let them go. 

I'm lucky to have had a second chance to prove myself to him, I need to work on being OK if that was his purpose in my life. 

I'm grateful, I just wish I could tell my heart it's going to be fine. 

Baby steps, I guess. 

Thank You, "Bob." Thank You for everything 

Friends in Low Places

 

*Link to Licensed Therapists*

This post comes at "ironic timing" as I personally did not know that it is Mental Health Awareness Month, hence the irony. 

As I have stated before, I have been actively participating in seeing a therapist twice a week and will continue to do so as I have never felt better and of course realize that I still have a long way to go to help undo years of trauma and disordered thinking/reaction patterns. 

Just recently I have been diagnosed with ADHD Combined Type which makes complete sense; it was a relief (believe it or not) to finally have a diagnosis to what I have been experiencing my whole life that others around me did not seem to struggle or deal with at all. 

While I was relieved and grateful for a diagnosis, which meant that I was not alone in this disorder, I was also faced with feelings of shame as well. Shame for the way I have behaved, Shame for how I treated others as a result. Shame for not recognizing it and getting help sooner.

I am in no way going to take all the blame for how things have played out due to my ADHD, because everyone has "issues" and no one person is perfect. But I'm willing to recognize and own my part in the negative impact(s) that it had caused. Though I'm no longer going to unpack mentally and live in the "victim" mindset or justify my action(s).

It's been a rollercoaster of emotions, but it has also been a relief as I have stated before, getting the diagnosis, getting the appropriate medication, and as always, Therapy.

There is this saying, "Be Kind. For everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about."

Enter a good friend of mine.

She just recently shared a TON of information with me that would be like looking both ways to cross a street and getting hit by a plane out of nowhere... It was A LOT, it was a huge surprise, and a huge shock. 

She mastered to art of masking and suppressing her feelings in public, but in the privacy in her own home she would inevitably break down. This has been her mental mode for years, yet no one would ever know. 

When she finally had enough of feeling like crap, and wanted serious help, I shared with her and persisted on seeking help from my Therapist as I trust her 2000% and have gotten a great deal of help from her myself, and I was positive that she too could help my friend.

And she is. Thank God.

Like me, she's working through her issues and really trying to understand why she thinks the way she thinks, why the way she acts, why the way she feels. She is struggling with something that I don't have too much knowledge on, that being Borderline Personality Disorder.

The loss of a recent relationship is what pushed her over the edge; prompting her to want to get help. She is tired of living in that head of hers and I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND THAT. 

Everyone needs to realize that for most people, it is not easy to talk to or have an in-depth discussion about their mental health. The stigmas surrounding it really need to take several seats and die off already. NO ONE is perfect. NO ONE. 

I said what I said.

I felt deeply honored that she felt comfortable enough to talk to me about her struggles and her past experiences from childhood all the way up to the present minute. It was a damn eye opener. Lots of times I couldn't stop myself from crying from what she went through and feeling intense empathy. 

The part that broke me was how she never felt worthy, prioritized, included, or loved by her family, peers, relationships. I understand that all too well and it explained why she constantly overcompensates for just about everything in her life, putting everyone and everything else on the pedestal instead of herself. Abandonment issues that make mine look like child's play.

For once, I'm glad that mine aren't THAT BAD. In the past they used to be, but either I've largely gotten over them, or I have developed an unhealthy coping mechanism of not getting attached as a result.

I think my answer lies in the latter. That will be the topic of my next therapy session.

Erin Condren

As my friend was explaining the daily hell that goes on in her head, I remembered that I had a card that was a "gift with purchase" when I got a Life Planner to help keep me and my life on track while I was dealing with my mother in hospice. I was a forgetful mess and not only didn't want the many medical appointments to be missed, but also document the last moments I had before I lost my mom for good.

In that order came that little card that meant more to me than the planner itself.

I needed that message. I needed that reminder. 

Today, my friend needs that reminder. She needs it more than me, so I am now gifting it to her with a message from me on the backside. Sometimes others need to know that they are not alone and that you are there for them. This is my way of helping to do that in the absence of a phone call or being there in person.

It wasn't something that I was wanting to part with, because it meant a lot that I had gotten that card in a time of deep despair. It also reminded me of having to unlearn the toxicity of not feeling worthy my whole life as a result of being raised by a very dysfunctional parent. 

I was gently reminded of a time where something similar happened but with a tiny statue of the Virgin Mary that I found buried in the backyard of a house that we lived in when I was a child. I cherished that statue (think dashboard icon sized) and carried it with me everywhere, held it when I was having times of stress and sadness. My faith and Mary have always brought me comfort. She was my security in a way.

*Image grabbed from The Fear Girls Blog*

Decades later I found myself parting with her as a close friend had discovered his faith, and needed her more than I did. I struggled with letting her go, sounds stupid but I valued her highly. Begrudgingly I boxed her up and sent her onto her new home hoping she would bring the same feelings to him as she did to me all those years. 

I got upset, but my mom & dad let me know that it was an incredible selfless act and that one day I would be rewarded greatly for it. And I was.

One day I came home to a much bigger version of her, but it wasn't just a statue anymore, it was a flower vase. On the back my mom had handwritten a note that she attached with tape over it and that has now become one of my most prized possessions for multiple reasons.

My hope is that this small card holds the same comfort as that Mary did for me. 

I'd like to think it was my mom on "the other side" reminding me of this incident and to let the card go to someone who really needs it now.

Some things aren't meant to be held onto forever. 

 My friend's physician had prescribed an anti-anxiety medication for her to help manage it as needed, and it's good to know that she isn't wanting to abuse the drug. That she is trying to take steps to prevent that. Most people wouldn't.

I have another friend who uses her medications as a convenient excuse and continues to mismanage her health. It's very hard to watch, and I have distanced myself as a result. 

I'm very glad that for at least the moment, that is not happening here. I will try to help mitigate that as much as I can, and she will do the same for me in other ways. I am not in need of or taking the same medication as she is, so there is no danger of that happening to me. I'm not a fan of most drugs, and I have addiction in my family (heavily) so I try not to take anything other than my ADHD meds, vitamins, supplements, aspirin, and allergy pills. 

I'm boring in that department and I'm fine with it. 

 My friend's journey is different than mine, and I notice that she hyperfocus's on this past failed relationship that she cannot let go of even though it would do her some good; it was incredibly 1 sided and she is still taking 100% of the blame for it and putting the other person on a pedestal (it's hard to listen to without losing it every time...), obsessing over things, situations, & people that have wronged her and cannot accept and let go of the fact that those things have run their courses in her life; missing the lessons she was to have learned from them.

I was the same exact way. However, any time something bends my nose out of shape, my immediate reaction is, "What is this trying to teach me?" Then I go into intense questioning mode to find the answer(s) to that question. Some days are easier than others, and in no way am I trying to say I am better than she is on this. I had some serious growing up to do before I reached that level of maturity. As well as taking accountability for my actions. That one is a hard one to do even without any kind of disordered thinking.

It's hard to watch good friends and family go through these struggles and not be able to fix them for them... I'm a "fixer", it's what I do. But most of the time, it's ourselves that need the fixing and we subconsciously look for other things or people to fix because it's easier to avoid our own messes.

The best any of us could ever do is to be a listening ear, and if you have the resources, to point them in the direction of professional help while we stand by their side being their biggest cheerleader, encouraging them towards the "finish line" without standing in their way. 

I believe that is what I have done here. 

and I'm OK with that.