Lisa, Mirna, and Aunt Melissa

I thought I was adjusting well to this whole going-to-work thing, but after this shit-hole week I'm certain I'm headed for the Betty in no time.

I'll write more about that later. But today, I just want to write about how supported and loved I am, even though I threw an orange across my kitchen today in frustration and in front of my child. My anxiety levels are..., well, a wee bit elevated these days and my tolerance for frustrating and annoying things is at an all time low. I kinda feel like a four thousand pound python is wrapped around my shoulders and squeezing at all times, ready to squeeze the last living breath out of my chain-smoked lungs. And my son, wh0's been sick and feverish and needy all week, is missing his normally attentive and loving mother as she has been replaced by this woman.

I'm not good at asking for help because I really do believe that I should be able to do everything myself. There's also a bit of "you-made-this-bed-now-lie-in-it" mentality going on inside my religiously-trained and guilt-ridden mind, making it super hard to ever ask for a hand when my life feels out of control. I really feel like I don't deserve to get help and that I need to find a way to manage my responsibilities on my own. Nobody got you into this mess, nobody's gonna get you out.

Whoa. Nasty voices in my head.

But today, after the orange throwing, I decided I needed some help. I was quickly unraveling and obviously going insane and Jack needed the safety of an individual who was not hurling fruits and cuss words across the room. So, I called Aunt Melissa who agreed to take him into her shelter. Shortly later, my friends Lisa and Mirna called and offered to drive out to my part of town, pick my overwhelmed and anxious ass up and take it to the movies with them. They paid for everything: tickets, popcorn, sodas, and Korean barbecue for dinner, afterwards. Mirna's husband, who had learned through the grapevine that I had lost my ID and my debit card and therefore have no access to money, insisted that Mirna give me cash for gas money. She refused to let me pay her back.

Internet, I cannot begin to express how overwhelmingly grateful I am to have somehow manifested these amazing people into my life who unconditionally support me and take care of me, even when I feel so undeserving and horrible. Thank you, Mom, for doing my dishes on Friday. Thank you, Craig, for the tank of gas that I don't have to worry about anymore. Thank you, Lisa, for an afternoon of feeling taken care of. Thank you, Mirna, for never making me feel undeserving of help. Thank you, Melissa, for giving my son a day of fun and snuggles with you and the dog. I am so lucky and blessed to be so supported and loved. My cup runneth over.

You must immediately go and view this.

My blog best friend's (BBF's) best friend's blog is giggle-during-church funny. This is his most recent addition. Click and laugh!

Why did I EAT that?

Alright. I just ate an entire bag of Cheetos. Followed by (oh god, this is embarrassing) frozen Cool Whip with chocolate flavored Magic Shell. And I wasn't even hungry. WHY?!

I'm on the verge of something new, but altogether familiar. I'm calling it conscious consumption. Of food, of things, of information, of environment... I'm beginning to notice that I consume stuff entirely too unconsciously, barely awake, reacting to a mood or a fly-by thought. I eat because I'm anxious, waiting for a boy to call. I go shopping because I want to avoid being at home. I buy stuff to feel important, lovable, okay. I know that we all do; I know I'm not hitting on some new concept here. However, I do believe that I'm seeing a way out of it that I have never seen before: through consciousness.

Conscious consuming, to me, looks like asking the question, "Do I really need this right now?" If I had asked myself that question prior to eating the Cool Whip, the answer would have definitely been no. So then I can ask myself, "What is the Cool Whip doing for you?" To which I could answer, "It's providing a distraction." "From what?" I would ask myself. From what?

From feelings of aimlessness, dread, unworthiness. From a sense of isolation. From the incredibly overwhelming feeling of responsibility in taking care of myself and of Jack. From despair. From the nagging voice of my mother who is always telling me that I'm not doing enough.

There are a lot of things that we all do to avoid feeling this stuff and letting it wash over us. We watch TV, smoke cigarettes, drink a few beers, call a friend, shop, eat, check up on the latest Britney news, check our friend's blogs... I know I'm afraid of stillness. I think I'm afraid that all of those feelings are real and that they will overwhelm me. and that I might not ever recover from it. So I eat Cheetos.

At least, this is what I have done up until now. I'm setting an intention to be still. I'm setting the intention to ask myself the questions: Do I need it, What is it doing for me... Most importantly, I intend to ask myself, "What do I really need right now?" Most likely it's not Cheetos or something from the dollar spot at Target or another VH1 countdown. What I could use is my own company, my own presence with myself as I feel whatever sadness or depression or anxiety that I may be feeling at the moment. What I need is to be able to listen to myself fully, completely, as my best friend would, and then say with the utmost confidence, "You know what? This will pass. It always does." I need to give myself permission to fall apart, to throw a tantrum, to be in a bad mood. I need to trust that I won't get stuck in it as I go through it.

I have been exceedingly lucky to have people in my life who, through their loving friendship with me, have shown me what it looks like to treat me with compassion, grace, and unconditional love and support. It's as if Carrie and Billy and Melissa and Donovan and Lynette and Craig and Mirna and Lisa have been my guides and teachers, demonstrating to me how to be more loving with myself. I am truly grateful for having been shown the way.

And now I want to share with you what spurred on this whole shift. My friend, Kate, sent this to me a few weeks ago and I avoided it for a while because I knew it shake the ignorance out of me. Given my penchant for extremes and black and white thinking, I kept all of my radical reactions in check and have not, so far, decided to sell all of my belongings and live with Jack on a commune raising Alpaca. I did, however, rent some of the suggested books listed on the website from the library. This is just an excerpt from the actual, 20 minute video that you can see in it's entirety here.*** I highly recommend it.

The Story of Stuff


***update: The story of stuff website (http://www.storyofstuff.com/) appears to be out of commission, which sucks because there are great links to resources and easy ideas on how to get out of this cycle. I think Big Buisness had something to do with offing the website, if you know what I mean. You can see all seven chapters here. Mahalo!

Happy Father's Day

Quite often I get asked, "How do you manage being both the mommy and the daddy to your son?" This question always catches me off guard because I do not consider myself to be both mother and father. I am not, nor will I ever be, Jack's father. How could I be? I am totally and only his mother, and this is all I will ever be. This idea that I would try to somehow play both roles makes as much sense to me as thinking that I can fill in as the family dog, something we also don't have in our home.

And yet, I believe we are not lacking. Jack and I are blessed to be surrounded by wonderful men who support us, take care of us, and otherwise love us so much that we're convinced that life is just as it should be. And so today I would like to acknowledge the men in our lives who fill in the much needed spaces that only a man can fill. Some things are just better left to the men, like teaching Jack how to pitch a tent and make a periscope (thanks Dad), or modeling how to revere and respect a woman (thanks, Craig), or effortlessly tossing, spinning, and air- plaining my son all through the air (thanks, Corey). I truly cannot do alone, and thanks to you I don't have to.

Thank you, Billy, for giving me the experience of being loved totally and unconditionally. Thank you, Dad, for proving me wrong about you. Thank you, Sean, for showing me how a wife can be treated in marriage. Thank you, Donovan, for your very nurturing presence in the shittiest of times, as well as the joyous ones. Thanks, Corey, for the billions and billions of little things that have made my life so much more livable, from making Jack laugh when he's fussy, to creating the best toy ever! He lights up when he sees you, and so do I. Thank you for your unfailing support. Thanks, Nate, for paving the way to great parenting, showing me what an attentive, fun parent looks like. Thanks, Craig, for delighting in my son- oops, I mean, your son. I love that you love him like you do!

Happy Father's Day to you, my amazing army of men! I love you!