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.

  

Be Brave

   Life can be hard, we all know that. It's tossed me around my fair share for sure. I haven't had the easiest last couple months. Hell, if I'm being really honest, I haven't had the easiest last few years. But that's not why I'm writing this blog. I'm writing this blog because for whatever reason lately a couple words have really resonated and stuck with me. A small phrase that reminds me to keep going. A symbol of overcoming the things life throws our way. These two words are: Be Brave. As I've mulled these simple yet extremely complex words over in my head, I thought to myself - what does that truly mean to me, to be brave? Well, I decided to put my thoughts into writing and see what I find. To start out I went to trusty ole google for the literal definition. 

Brave:
     1. ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage.
      2. endure or face (unpleasant conditions or behavior) without showing fear.

   How cool is that? To face pain with courage and being ready to do so. To endure the woes this world throws at you without showing fear. Not to say you're not afraid, you may be terrified, but you're facing it anyway. What amazing strength lies in the definition of this word. 

   I think back to times in my life that I would consider myself to have been brave. Overcoming my struggle with an eating disorder. Realizing that asking for help isn't only okay, it's extremely courageous. I remember how scared I was to admit I couldn't handle something on my own, to "need" help. Only to quickly realize all the negative connotation this world puts on therapy is complete BS. Moving out at the age of seventeen. One of my hardest ones, pressing charges against the person who raped me. I hate that is a path so many people know. Forgiving that same person, so I could let go and move on. Another not so easy one, recognizing the emotional abuse in my marriage and getting myself out of it. I never pictured myself as a divorcee, that's not the path I wanted my life to have. But looking back now, at everything I've learned, I'm thankful for the strength it has given me. Writing and posting this blog. Loving and leaving an addict. Being vulnerable. Telling my five year old nephew his dad died from an overdose and turning the corner to hold my sister so he wouldn't see her cry. Getting diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever last summer and despite not feeling well most of the time, still finding the good in every day. Being strong enough to see the good in people. Being brave enough to believe in them. Sometimes simply trusting a person, for me, is a true act of bravery. 

   I think that being brave can come in all shapes and sizes, choices, situations, you name it. So as I thought about these words and what they mean to me, this is what I have come up with....Being brave means being strong. It means pushing forward. It means not stopping, no matter what. It's putting one foot in front of the other when you don't want to move an inch. It's facing your fears head on with confidence. It's trusting yourself. Trusting your gut. Believing that you're going to be okay. It's seeing the silver lining in the middle of adversity. It's being at the center of a shit storm and finding a way to grow from it. It's taking control of your mind, your thoughts, your reactions. It's loving yourself. It's facing the world as nothing more than simply being you and knowing that is enough. Being brave is beautiful. Being brave is hard. Being brave is courageous. 

   That must be why these two words have stuck with me so much lately. They hold an infinite amount of meaning.  A definition that can be personal to each individual. One that can morph and change over time. An encouragement for any situation you may face. A reminder that you have before and will continue to triumph over any adversity placed in your way. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes growing up, "Never, ever, ever give up" And I think that's what it comes down to. Not giving up. Taking every day head on. Fighting, not to survive, but to overcome. Facing every day, ready to be brave. 

It's Okay

I don't blog too often, but every once in awhile something weighs on my heart that I have a hard time expressing any other way than through writing. Addiction has been something in my life my for a very long time. But I think as I grow older, I learn and experience new aspects about it.

I have written a blog about addiction before, but these last six months I think I've experienced a new side. One that hasn't been easy. The last blog I wrote, years ago, talked about rising above the addiction of a someone you love. So, I find it a little ironic that I still struggle with it. I guess that's why addiction is so tricky. I'm not sure anyone ever really "figures" it out. It's more complicated than that.

The last blog I wrote I felt like I had answers. This time around, I feel like I have no answers at all. I think I would be a much better writer if I could put even an ounce of the emotions someone who cares about an addict feels, but I think truthfully it's something inexplainable unless you've felt it.

What I've struggled with most lately is moving on. Not that I haven't taken steps toward it, but that it feels like it's leaving the other person behind. How are you supposed to live every day like your world is okay, when you know that theirs isn't? Does it make you a bad person? Even though there's nothing you can do? Even if you've tried it all? I haven't fully figured that out yet.

I guess at this point I'm not sure where to go. Maybe as I write I'll figure it out. Things I do know is that I am a patient person, to a fault at times. Isn't it odd that's people's greatest strengths are also their greatest weaknesses? Maybe that's the irony of life. I also know that I have no control over some else's actions, despite any effort I've put in. The shitty part is accepting that.

Life throws you curve balls all the time. Sometimes you dodge them, sometimes you don't. This one has me so hung up. For a little back ground, I grew up with a drug addicted sister. Pretty much all my life. I went through the lying, cheating, stealing - my goodness you name it. Somehow, years later, despite the knowledge I should have had about it...I found myself in love with an alcoholic. It's started off okay, it honestly started off great. That's the thing about addicts - they aren't bad people. In fact, a think a lot of times they have some of the greatest hearts out there. That's what makes it so freaking hard. That's why you hang on, that's why you continually believe in them.

My boyfriend and I broke up around six months ago. At the time it wasn't even necessarily because I wanted to, it was because I had to. The choices made put us in the situation and I didn't want to continually be second place to alcohol. Since we've broken up, his drinking got worse. Decisions being made were not smart. But somehow, I still felt a pang of guilt. Like there was more I could do.

I think that's where the struggle with moving on comes into play. It's such a weird thing to watch my life progress while his seems to be in pause. And even though I know logically there's nothing I can do, I still feel bad. I still feel guilty. I still feel responsible to do more. And the thing that breaks my heart the most is that I know I can't. I stand back and watch him hurting and I know there is absolutely nothing in the world I can do to stop it.

So again, we come back to moving on. I hate having to let someone go that I know is hurting. I hate moving on with my life like everything is okay. I hate having the feeling every day that they need me. It's enough to break a person. So how do we do it? I guess I'm still figuring that part out. But you know what, I also think that's okay. I said early that sometimes peoples greatest strengths are also their biggest weakness. Maybe it's okay that I have a kind heart. Maybe it's okay that I love hard. Maybe it's okay to wish the best for someone.

But at the end of the day I still have choose what is best for me. I still have to be strong. I still have to remind myself that I already tried it all. I still have to know it's not my fault his life isn't progressing while I try to move forward. And I absolutely have to realize that moving on IS OKAY!!!! I'm not leaving someone. I'm not giving up on someone. I'm not being a bad person. And I am most definitely not prohibiting their recovery.

I'm not sure this blog will find many people. But maybe someday, somewhere, someone else will read this and realize it's okay to move on. It's okay to be you. It's okay to progress. You are not leaving someone behind. Maybe someday this blog will find someone and give them hope. Or at least comfort knowing they are not alone. There is something powerful in finding an ally. So for anyone else out there struggling to leave, struggling to find peace, struggling to move on - maybe the reason I started writing this was to tell you and to tell me, that it's okay.