Eyes Closed

I have always found beauty in music. Lyrics obviously are important, and I find so much depth behind writing. But the vibration of sound, that is what speaks to the soul. There are not many songs I hear for the first time and connect to, but when I do - it is magic. Ed Sheeran released a song today called "Eyes Closed" and it may be one of the most tragically heartbreaking beautiful songs I have ever heard. When I listened to it this morning, I was moved to tears. And when that happens with music, poems, expression of words - I like to dive in. If you have not listend to the song, I urge you to. But I would also suggest listening to it with the music video, which I will include at the end of this blog. It is gut wrenching, it is powerful, it is beautiful, it is authentically human. The way he is able to convey so many feelings in just over three minutes is beyond me. It's a talent I wish I possesed. But I tend to be a bit more long winded ;) The origin of the song was meant to be about a break up. However, in the midst of writing it, his frined passed away from drug and alcohol abuse. This changed the meanging for Ed, and he decided to dedicate this song to his friend. What I find the most powerful in his writing is that it captures the esseance of grief. Of all kinds. It conveys the depth of mourning, heartbreak and utter sadness. It puts into words what so many find hard to describe. When you feel paralized by tradgedy, lost and alone...but the world keeps moving on all the same. The vidoe starts with him in a car, crashing and submerging into water. And I don't want to miscontrue Ed's artistic expression....but the beginning of that video feels very powerful to me. It sets the tone of the song and the emotion. To me it conveys times in people's lives, that they feel so overwhelmed by grief that they are literally drowning in it. They can't catch their breath, or get their head above water. The hurt is too consuming. And then he goes into a bar alone. Symbolizing the isaolation we feel when we are grieving. How diabilitating and distraught that feeling can be. How alone and overwhelming our thoughts can be. We convince ourselves that no one is there. No one but the monster of depression. We can't even open our eyes to the world we are presented with, and so...we dance with our closed. We move through life half alive. We go into survival mode. The gravity of grief can be too much to open your eyes to. I honestly really enjoyed the Blue Monster in this video. It gave physical appearance to what sadness feels like. Its big, its engulfing, it fills the room - yet many times it's the elephant in the room. It's there, but no one wants to talk about, to look at it, to adress it. Which is why we end up feeling so alone to begin with. It follows you. It's always there. Taking up space. In your body, in your mind. It hovers and makes you feel cold. I hovers and makes you feel alone. It hovers and reminds you how much this world just really fucking sucks. It sits with you, it follows you, it sleeps with you, it wakes up with you. It's always there. Hovering. Remidning. Haunting. This song and music video touched me. I think Ed did an incredibly amazing job at portraying grief. Portaying mourning. Portraying sadness. Portaying depression. Portraying overwhelmness. Portraying life and hurt and trying to just survive. I also found artistry in the beat of the song. It starts slower, but the beat picks up. If the words weren't so incredibly gut wrenching, the music could be happy. And I think this was on purpose. I think it goes to show that - even when your world completely stops, when it falls apart and you can barely breathe, when you are drowning and feeling alone and just trying to get your head above water - life goes on. The world still spins. Others do not slow down. I think this is another reason grief feels so lonely. It's mind blowing when your personal world is completely shattered - yet no one seems to notice? How does the entire world not stop when yours does? It's complex and frustratinga and even beautiful in a way. Because no matter how maddening it is, part of life is that it does go on. But in that, there is hope to heal. I think my very favorite part of this video is the ending. The big blue monster, that I view as grief/depression/anxiety/all of the above, continues to follow him. Through the whole video, he tries to avoid it. He drinks. He literally closes his eyes because the world as it is isn't bareable to see. But at the end, he looks his monster in the eyes. He faces his fear, his depression, his sadness. And as soon as he's ready to look at the truth, at the reality and gravity of his greif, the monster disappears. Phew....this vidoe and song might be one of the only ones that have made me feel like tragedy, sadness, depression and mourning can be portrayed in such a beautiful way. It touched my soul, truly. It captured emotions I have felt in so many different situations. Death, loss of people who are still living, trauma, depression - but ultimately, healing. Toward the end of the video we also see other "monsters" that Ed doesn't seem to give any sort of attention to. I think this is symbolic of the fact that we all have our own demons, our own monsters - and just because you can't look at someone and see the demons they possess or are living with, that doesn't make them any less real. I am a bit of a slow processor, so I'd imagine if this song already stirred up enough emotion to write about it - the gravity of it will continue to sink in. But I hope in sharing my thoughts that others are able to find healing and hope beyond their hurt. The blue monster is a bitch. Its consuming, overwhelming, and encompassing. It's heavy. It can make you isolate yourelf or make you feel alone (even when that is not true) - but don't let it win. Look your big blue monster straight in the face and tell it to fuck off. I hope you find the strength to open your eyes - there is beauty beyond the pain.

Soul Child

 I recently got a massage, with the goal of releasing. I knew my body was holding tension I needed to let go of. I've had a hard couple months, and truth be told, my body shut down. In all definitions of the word, I was a shell. I couldn't feel or process. I couldn't socialize. I did what I needed to do, which was work and not much outside of that. Music was too much to my ears, TV was too much to my brain, leaving my house was too much...everything. My grand adventure that weekend was leaving my house long enough to have a stranger rub my body and hopefully make me feel better. That was it.  

 I told the masseuse what I was there for. That I wanted to concentrate more on what my body needed to let go of. I wasn't there for the purpose of feeling relaxed for an hour, I was ready to feel like I had ran a marathon by the end. Thankfully, she listened. And she went for it. I trusted my body to tell her what it needed and she dug deep into the parts of me that were holding the most. Even with her elbows digging deep into my muscles, I could still feel myself holding on. To what, I wasn't sure, but I could FEEL it - in my whole being. Holding tension, holding emotion, holding tight - to something. 

 I took deep breaths and told myself, it's okay. You're safe here. You have shut the world out and stopped feeling, but in this moment you are safe. You can feel and you can release and you can let go. Of all the things that made you stop feeling in the first place. 

 This is what I expected. I expected to feel and let go of my relationship that just ended. I expected a surge of sadness and comprehension to hit me from this. I also expected a great sorrow to hit from my best friend moving away recently. The person that joined me in almost every single step of my journey into finding me. That one I knew I hadn't felt through yet - and I was ready. To feel it all. So, I started taking deep breaths and said to myself - "Kristi, it's okay to let go." I took many deep breaths, exhaling each one with these words. But what I experienced in letting myself lower that guard was not what I expected. 

 As soon as I allowed myself to relax into what my body needed, as soon I let myself start listening to me, I saw a vision. Well, vision may be exaggerative, I am still not sure what it was - but vision is as close to the human language as I can put it into words. It was like a flash of a scene, just long enough to stay burned in my memory. What I saw was a small child, she called to me. I knew she was around four years old - I am not sure why I knew this, I just did. And before confusion could hit on who this young child was, blurry and a little far away, it was in that same breath that I knew she was me. I recognized her in a way that again I cannot explain with words. But we were one. Two, yet one. And as I breathed in to release and let go, repeating this to myself like a mantra - breathe, release and let go - it was in one of my deepest breaths that I realized I was holding on to things I didn't even know were inside of me. 

 This sweet precious little four year old. I feel so much love, compassion and protectiveness for her. She saved me. She learned how to survive in a world full of hurt incomprehensible to a child that young. She built up walls of protection, a fortress around me, to keep me safe. She shut down my brain, my emotions, my being - because that is what she had to do to live. She protected me. She got me here. And it was in this moment, lying face down on a massage table that I realized...oh sweet sweet girl, I don't need you anymore. You did your job. You were the only way I knew how to survive, but not anymore. You made me strong. You helped me into the woman I am today. But sweet girl, I have learned. I have put so much work into myself. I have learned how to love these broken pieces, these pieces of you and of me that I don't even believe or see as broken anymore. I am okay, I release you. Breathe, release and let go. 

 Now, let me also say - this was a lot to feel on a massage table. And in that quick amount of time, I wasn't even sure what happened. I came home and I wept. I wept, and I thought to myself "Why are you crying? What are you even crying for?" I wasn't sure. I wasn't really sure for days. I knew I wasn't crazy because it felt too real, too close to my heart, too much like I was really seeing myself to just dismiss it. Even so, I wasn't sure who I could tell about this experience or if I even should? I don't even know what this means yet, how do I put this into words? Even if I wanted to share, how the hell do I put this into words?? But I decided to brave it, and I shared anyway. Without words formed, without understanding what happened, I just let myself speak. From the depth inside of me, from the deepest parts of me that this little girl had made into a home. As I recounted the experience to my counselor his eyes went soft, almost as if they were speaking. Almost as if they were saying, "I am proud of you." Like I found something that most people do not. As I ended my recollection of this encounter, I don't know why or maybe I do - but I said, "I'm not sure if I am making sense, I don't even know what I am saying?!" And he looked back at me, square in the eye and said, "Oh, but I do." I broke past a barrier deeper than most people allow themselves to go. I allowed me, to speak to me. The trust I have in myself has grown so much, that she - the little broken girl inside of me - was able to to find her voice too. And truth be told, it was a small moment. One I could have dismissed and thought nothing about. A fraction of a moment that life gives you - to listen, or to retreat. I didn't have to give mind or pay attention to this quick appearance that she made. But I will tell you this, I have retreated for far too many years of my life not to listen. This tiny version of myself, I gave her full stage. 

 Here is what I think I've processed in these last few days. This is the first time, since I've come into my knowing that I've felt deep deep hurt, gut wrenching loss. My body's natural reaction is full fledged survival mode. I know no in between. I return right back to what that little girl had to do to help me survive. I shut down. My brain shuts down. My emotions shut down. I am a walking dead person. I felt that this last month. But, when I decided to let myself breathe - I realized, I am okay. Like actually really okay. I have built a very very solid foundation in me, so strong - that she is now who I can fall back on. I don't need my four year old self to protect me anymore. I got this. I found myself telling this tiny survival mode version of me - breathe, release, and let go - you are free now. 

 But let me tell you, I have gotten very unexpectedly emotional about this. Like wait a goddamn second - THIS IS HOW I SURVIVED!!! HELLO!!! WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I GIVE THIS ME UP???? I am as protective of her, as she is of me. But I think this is what I am realizing - the feeling of "you can let go" I was having on that massage table, wasn't leaving this little girl forever, it was releasing her. My sweet sweet four year old self - you served your time. You got me here. You are why I am here. Now it is your turn. I am letting you go in the sense that you are no longer hostage here. You are not stuck in this body to protect. You are free, my sweet sweet girl. You are free to be a kid. You are free to have fun. You are free to love. I think my overwhelming emotions of meeting this little girl, is that I feel so sorry for her that she sacrificed herself to save me. She gave up living to survive, so that I could one day be free. I feel her hurt to the very depths of my soul, because it is also my own. I mourn for her. 

But please listen to me now, my soul child - run, run wild. You are free! YOU ARE FREE! We both are. And in this freedom, I am not loosing you. I am locking hands with you and realizing that this - THIS - is how it was always supposed to be. 

No one really knows what the fuck they are doing anyway

     I have spent so many year of my life, so many moments and thoughts and valuable time - which you can't get back by the way - trying to figure out how to figure out this ever intriguing thing called life. And after almost 32 years on this earth, searching and fighting like hell to figure all this out, do you want to know what conclusion I've come to? The "secret to life" as some would say. My professional opinion is that none of us actually know what the fuck we are doing. 

    If you know me or if you talk to me for more than a few minutes, I am sure Glennon Doyle's name will come up along with her book Untamed. And I am sure you will hear me say it changed my life - because well, it did. I learned and continue to learn many many things from this wise woman who is bold enough to share her truth and be vulnerable to the world. Listen people, I barely know how to be vulnerable with myself, better yet the world. Her strength and bravery are truly inspiring. But I think one of the biggest things I have learned this year, greatly inspired by Glennon, is to stop freaking living for other people. 

    Here's her wild concept, that I am borrowing and sharing now. Take everything you know, everything you THINK that you know. Take it all. Family. Religion. Morals. Gender roles. YOUR roles. World concepts. Indoctrination. What you were taught. What you were told to believe. And throw it all out. ALL OF IT. Every way people have told you how to live, how to act, how to look. The idea of good or bad. Right or wrong. There are so many things in life we are taught to perceive as good or as bad - but who fucking says so? Who defined what is right or wrong for ME? Who else should truly even have the right to? Take every single one of these thoughts and literally throw it the fuck out. Now, imagine this - standing, alone. Somewhere open, the wind blowing. Not too much, just enough to hold these things up as an offering and let the wind carry it far far away from you. You are left standing, for the first time in your life, complete alone. Not in the derogatory connotation that the world has attached to this word, but in the incredibly empowering sense of truly getting to see yourself for the first time. 

    Okay, are you there? Alone with yourself. Now...start asking questions, hard questions. How many of the the beliefs you have, are really yours? How many things that you so whole heartedly believe, might not actually sit well with your gut? If there is no right or wrong, and you get to make the rules - what are they? Do you even know? I can tell you I sure didn't. I have been through a wild ride of recreation this year and when I started this journey I realized I knew NOTHING. Like literally wasn't even sure what being Kristi meant. Mostly because I had never really asked myself. I took what the world viewed "right" and just accepted it. If that's what people say, if thats what your parents say, if thats what the church says - it has to be right, right? 

    Well remember what I said - no one really knows what the fuck they are doing anyway, so why the hell am I listening to them? AND WHO THE HELL IS THEM!!!! So, instead of continuing to look outward for how I should live my life, I shifted. I started asking myself more questions about who I really was. What I really believed. But the most important part is that for the first time in my life, I actually started letting MYSELF answer them. Slowly, question after question, discovery after discovery, truth after truth - I started to get to know me. And you know what? I think I am pretty fucking cool. And it turns out, I have a lot of thoughts. A lot of my own thoughts. A year ago, I would have never been able to say that. I would have talked myself down, beaten myself up. I would have gone over every reason why I wasn't good enough, why I never would be. But for what? Who was I answering to? Who was I trying so desperately hard to live up to? The crazy thing is, I'm not even sure. 

    Glennon's idea of living a life untamed isn't being wild and crazy and breaking rules just to break them. The heart of the concept is to find you. It's returning to and/or continuing to discover your truest and most authentic self. The world is always going to have an idea of who you should be. My challenge to you is to tell the world to fuck off. Sit with yourself, ask the hard questions and listen - I promise you there is a voice in there. Glennon calls it your inner Knowing. I call it my gut. You may call it something different. Hell, you may even want to name it. But please, take the time to sit, center your inner being - and let her talk. I learned that mine is pretty darn intuitive, smart and right for ME pretty much every freakin time. It's funny how much you know about you, when you simply start letting YOU speak! 

    This year has been incredible. I have challenged more thoughts and concepts and ideas than I ever thought possible. I have pressed boundaries and asked questions and discovered so much. And now, after almost 32 years on this earth - I am finally starting to live. 

 

Kristi Clark is Completely Fine

     I got done reading Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine and immediately had the urge to write. 

    Eleanor is complex character, a by-product of her past. She learned how to survive by blocking things out and listening to the negative influences in her life. Not believing herself worthy. Worthy of happiness. Worthy of friendship. Worthy of closeness. Worthy of love. Worthy of even human touch. She lived her life drowned by numbing agents of abusive relationships and vodka, shut off to world. Listening to the negative voice inside her head telling her she wasn't good enough. 

    I connected with this character in so many ways because I too, lived a life closed off. Closed off from connection. Closed off from trust. Closed of from feelings. Closed of from, well - kind of everything in general really. What's kind of crazy about this world, is that you can live that way and still seem fine. Completely fine, actually. You can go through day after day on auto-pilot and no one even notices, because you're still doing all the things that you're "supposed to do." Most people will even view you has happy or successful. But no one actually sees the darkness that consumes you from the inside. No one really knows your story. No one but you and the negative voice in your head, and that's a dangerous place to live. 

    I am not sure if all people have a negative inner voice and truthfully I hope that not to be the case. But I can with absolute certainty tell you that I do, or at least did. It brought me down on a daily basis, making me believe that despite the success I had accomplished in life, somehow that wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I would never be good enough. I lived every day of my life with this voice inside my head, despite the positive or optimistic outlooks I tried so hard to have. To the point, that I just started to simply accept that I would never feel good enough ever again. 

    I love the complexity of this book, because it portrays the incredibly deep and lasting affects that an emotionally and verbally abusive relationship can have. It doesn't just haunt you when you are around the person abusing you. In fact, sometimes it haunts you the most when you are not. This voice becomes so engrained, so believed...it begins to take on a form so real, that  you actually start to believe it as your own. This is another dangerous place to be. This is the place when you lose yourself and give way to the negativity that nags at you every second of every day. 

    It's not a fun way to live. Eleanor and I can definitely attest to that. It's dark there. It's lonely there. But the only thing more unfathomable than getting yourself out of that dark and lonely place, is believing that you deserve to. This voice comes in different forms. Sometimes quiet in the back of your head, nagging. Sometimes forefront in your face, screaming. But it's always there reminding you of all the reasons you are not worthy. 

    This is a little dark, but the beauty of this book, and the beauty of life - is that we actually have the power to control the narrative. I'm not saying that it's easy. It takes hard work and time and patience with yourself. It takes counseling and learning who you are. It takes facing your fears and worst of all - it takes the willingness to be open and vulnerable. You have to shine light on those dark and traumatic pieces you've stored away and stifled for so long. 

    But here is the cool part - sometimes when you do that, you realize they weren't even yours to carry. When your vulnerability is down, and you allow yourself to look at YOU, that is when your narrative shifts. That is when you can start to take control. When you have been hurt on such a deep emotional level, the thought of opening up old wounds or opening yourself up to new ones - sounds absolutely 100% completely repulsive. Trust me, I get that. But when I faced my demons head on, when I decided to tell that negative voice in my head to shut the fuck up - I looked it straight in the face and guess what I saw? I didn't see me at all. I saw my ex-husband. The years of emotional trauma I lived through had created it's own voice and narrative inside my head. I was physically with my ex-husband a total of five years, but I lived with him for eight. My mind got contorted by all the comments he made about me, that eventually they became facts I believed myself. With every remark he made, day after day - it slowly chipped away at my inner being so much, that there wasn't much left of Kristi at all. 

  There's a quote in the book that says, "fire test gold, as adversity tests the brave." I've had my fair share of adversity, but emotional abuse is a whole different level. It can mind fuck you so bad, that you actually start to treat yourself the way your abuser did without even noticing it. Man, what a freaking powerful book this is. I lived with Eleanor as I read this book. I felt her lows and empathized her rock bottoms. I celebrated her epiphanies....until I finally cried with her in triumph. It doesn't take believing you are brave to overcome. Sometimes, it simply takes a step - just one step in the right direction. Then another step. And another. Then one more. And before you even realize it you are walking with a little momentum, back toward life. Back to truth. Back toward YOU. 

    So, thank you Eleanor, for letting me walk with you. Thank you for helping me open up and shine some light on the emotional abuse I had stored away. Thank you for helping me realize that this type of abuse is REAL and important to talk about. And thank you to the author, Gail Honeyman, for bringing such a beautifully tragic complex character to life. Eleanor Oliphant really is completely fine, and so am I. 

She is not okay

This image spoke to me, because it was me. I have never been “okay” that I can really remember. I faked a smile a lot. Most of my life, if I am being honest. I’ve been told by a lot of people that I am really nice. I think that is sweet. Mostly because they don’t see the shattered pieces behind the mask I put on. I covered those broken pieces, because I didn’t think they were the parts of me I was supposed to share. “Fake it until you make it” right? So, I became a master of disguise. Clothed in quietness, believing my voice didn’t matter. Quieting her, because who would want to listen? To the point, that some days I barely even recognized myself. What I find sad, is that I thought I was succeeding by doing these things. Cover it up, so no one can see. That’s the fucked up part about the message the world sends you, or at least my world. Hold it together, you don’t have it that bad.

   I fell into a perception of safety, by not letting anyone close. I lived my life anticipating life’s next move. I wanted to be ahead. To be guarded, so the next blow didn’t hurt as bad. Life is full of hurt, we all know that. So, I thought to myself, what better way to defend than to never feel. This left me living an extremely closed off and guarded life, never really letting anyone in. Sounds nice, right? You can’t get hurt this way. At least, that’s what I thought.  

    Well, my rude awakening was, that’s not how life works. Not by a long shot. The blows still come, the hurt still hurts. Things still suck. So, then I thought, why am I doing this? Living a life closed off, even from the people that I claim to love. Is that really all life has to offer? 

    Well, this is what I decided…FUCK NO! Life is so much more. So much more than faking my smiles. So much more than quieting my voice. So much more than wearing a mask. So much more than covering up the dark and hard and complicated parts of myself that make me, well me. 

    So, rather than hiding, I have very recently (and reluctantly, I might add) decided to live life without a mask. That isn’t me anymore. I don’t have to live in survival mode every second of my day. I am tired of hiding me. I’m done with that life. Done pretending. Done being fake. Done smiling just to smile and make others feel comfortable. 

    Right now, I am discovering that I don’t want to be or need to be anything but my god damn self. She is enough. I am turning my breaks into my breakthroughs. I am learning that every crack I have isn’t actually a crack, but a piece of what I thought I should be falling away and letting my true light shine through. I am mending my heart by no one else but myself. I am living my life with intention. I am starting to really feel. My fears and insecurities are being put to bed by the strong, vibrant and feisty voice that I kept quiet for way too long. She is smart, she is intuitive and she is mother fucking loud. 

    So, if you see me out, I will not fake a smile. I am not hiding behind a façade. I am giving up the survival mode of myself that I have lived behind for so long. The lie I believed represented success, is no more. My mask is off and there is no turning back. This is me, real and raw. Scared and vulnerable. Empowered and on fire. I am not okay….I am more than okay, because I am me and that is enough.