Now and then life decides to slow us down at seemingly random times. These breaks aren't always pleasure trips, though. More often than not, they're uncomfortable... even painful... and sometimes we actually manifest physical or emotional dis-ease to render us still enough to actually learn our lessons.
In November, life decided I needed to slow to a screeching halt again.
After writing my first book, promoting the e-book, publishing on Amazon, creating awareness, and co-chairing my second suicide prevention walk (I did this all in the previous six months),
I found myself feeling strangely anxious and depressed.
Don't misunderstand, 2018 was an amazing year of growth and opportunity for me, and I'm unbelievably grateful for the support I received every step of the way.
I made new friends, did some traveling, and even ran my first workshop! I did things I only dreamed of doing in my younger years, and these new ventures helped me to grow.
But... they also terrified me. Every last one of them.
You see, I've been programmed to stay quiet and small while keeping the peace and sacrificing my needs and happiness because... well... that's what "good" mothers (and world champion co-dependents) are programmed do. But, for seven months I stopped doing all of that... and I got an awful lot done... until grief reared it's head again.
This time, though, I was grieving different losses: the loss of my marriage and the loss of my old small self.
I couldn't fully process my divorce as it was happening, because I was knee deep in grief after losing my sister to suicide. My system was already on overload. No matter, though. Grief waited with the quiet patience of a Zen Buddhist until it found an opening... and then, once again, we stood eye to eye.
And so it goes...
and so I went...
down the rabbit hole of sadness, anxiety, anger, and...
depression. (She sighs.)
This November marked two years since my divorce was final. Two years? Already? I have no idea where that time went or how I even managed at this time two years ago. The mind has ways of protecting us during strenuous times and, apparently, it's done its job very well.
My ex has moved on, as I suspected he would, and I'm moving on, too, in my own way, although I'm not interested in getting into a new relationship now. I'd like to repair the one I have with myself first, as this relationship has been in desperate need of need fixing for a very long time.
Thankfully, I've recognized my dysfunctional relationship patterns and, of course, I've connected them directly back to my childhood experiences. This time, though, I've gathered "new" revelations, with which I will now enlighten you. (Prepare to be shocked. Not.)
My chosen partners mirrored every one of my insecurities, and I expected them to love, support, and accept the parts of me I disowned. When they eventually reflected my lack of self-love back to me, I became understandably angry and resentful. (How dare they not love and support me in a way I refuse to love and accept myself! Those...... men!)
Every one of those relationships was built on lack, and that's precisely why they didn't survive.
I should've filed for divorce the moment I signed the marriage license(s). Yikes.
These relationships were perfect examples of what (the book) A Course in Miracles refers to as "special" relationships. (Unconscious partnerships where people attempt to "steal" what they believe another person, organization, or thing has in order to fill a personal void.) Bingo! That's exactly what I did.
These relationships were trying to show me all along who I really needed love and support from was me.
No mistake and no coincidence. My marriages were meant to play out exactly as they did (for my highest evolution). If you've read Wake Me from the Nightmare, you know this is a repeat of words I've already written but it felt, when they hit me this time, like I'd heard them for the first time.
Back to the proverbial drawing board... and back to energy healing, rest, and self-partnering practices.
Yes, the truth hurts but it does, indeed, set you free.
It's been a couple months of processing, and I've got my see legs back (pun intended). I've also been reminded that although I can't really control much of anything in this life, I can control my own actions and the way I perceive this journey.
So, no more self-flagellation, thank you very much. I'm choosing love over fear this time.
Grief continues to teach me valuable lessons and, although it takes some time to bounce back, I keep coming back, and that's the important thing.
I know self-awareness is a practice, and if I can stay in the moment as often as possible and follow the guidance of grief and my Inner Healer all will, most certainly, be well.
As for my old self? Well... I coaxed her out of the closet, gave her a big hug, and told her she's got this. I'm encouraging her to trust the process and keep moving forward, even when she's scared.
I'm also encouraging her to continue reaching out to her trusted supports instead of staying in her head and isolating.
Everyone needs a cheerleader, and this is why the best coaches and therapists I know have coaches and therapists. They understand the importance of support and they're invested in themselves.
I will continue to invest time and money in myself and my own well being, because I want to be the best coach possible for my clients.
In all honesty, we need self-awareness and each other to rise.
It's too easy for me to stay stuck in the complacency of my repetitive habits and safety zones, and I'm well aware safety doesn't lead to growth, success, or contentment. Those are only found on the less traveled roads, so that's where I'm headed again. This time, though, I've got my one true love by my side.
I know it's been awhile since I've written.
I was overwhelmed and confused about which direction I wanted to take my life and my business.
I tend to get lost in this overwhelm when I'm focused on what's going on around me instead of what's going on within me, so I decided to unplug for awhile in order to figure out my intention, my message, and my plan.
As I sat in meditation, the message became crystal clear. I was spending too much time engaged in activities that were draining me; too much time on social media, specifically.
What I needed was personal connection. I wanted to be with and around people again.
Reaching out seemed a little daunting at first.
I'd avoided socializing for so long, small talk had become awkward and uncomfortable. I was out of practice.
The reintegration process was slow, but I gave myself the grace to do it imperfectly.
With time and consistent effort, conversing became less awkward. Meetings with friends and clients quickly became more frequent.
I decided I was ready to serve again and wanted to give back in a bigger, more meaningful way. I'd grown tired of only "telling" my story. I wanted to be of service again.
In early March, I created a vision board.
It took several days to assemble, as I painfully deliberated over every picture and word choice. (I wasn't sure it would ever get done.)
One of the last words I added was "author." I hesitated, because I knew pasting that word would also mean committing to taking right action. (Me? Write a book?! YIKES!)
I took a leap and did it anyway.
A few days later it became clear that writing an e-book would be the next step toward building my platform. Specifically, writing a book that would help wake people from the nightmare of suicide loss.
I remembered receiving information in December from a book coach named Angela Lauria who helped people write books that "made a difference."
Her videos were full of powerful information that made good sense, and she had a straight forward, easy to understand approach that appealed to me. I scrolled back through the messages and downloaded her e-book. I started her writing process and, shortly after, applied to work with her.
My vision was clear and my answers were short. (Too short, I thought, to come from a prospective writer.) "Oh well, " I thought, "At least I'm willing to give it a shot. It doesn't matter if they reject me. At least I'll know I tried."
Within several days they called me with a few questions regarding my book idea. They liked my message and set up an official interview. For the first time in years, I realized the stirring I felt inside wasn't fear...
I was excited!
I felt alive again, and doors were opening (and God was rearranging my world to support my vision)! Once my mind was made up, things moved very quickly! That's the power of clarity, intention, and focus, and it felt like a beautiful whirlwind.
About 20 applicants (out of 400+ per month) get accepted into Angela's program, and I became one of them! Can you believe it?
I focused my gaze and took right action. I stepped away from my doubts and into the life of the person I wanted to be. Me, without my bullshit stories of "too much" and "not enough."
I want my kids to know that anything is possible at any age, and they can do and be whatever and whomever they wish. I pray my example is a good one, so we can continue pushing past the multi-generational barriers that have held us back for so long.
I encourage you to uncover your dreams and create your vision. It's never too late to begin, and you never know what could be waiting on the other side of your fear and resistance.
The only things I've discovered are endless possibilities.
Together, in our relentless searching, we're breaking the cycle of confusion and pain.
In the end, that's all that really matters, because that's where love begins.
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I'm choosing mine more carefully these days.
The words you choose can either uplift you or limit you, and it's important to notice what you're telling yourself.
Start paying attention.
Do you refer to yourself as stupid, lazy, bad, or fat (or even forgetful, tired, undisciplined or flabby)? Do you identify with depression, anxiety, bi-polar or other labels assigned to you by yourself or others?
I have good news! These labels aren't you (unless you're attached to them).
A few months back a friend of mine said she "had to work out because she'd been bad and missed a few days." I cringed as I heard her words for two reasons:
This was a huge wake up call for me.
I'd berated and belittled myself for too long, wholeheartedly believing the lies and labels I'd been assigned. I was repeatedly reinforcing the negative (or limiting) messages I'd accepted as truth. Although aware my kids heard my negative self-talk, I hoped somehow they'd "know better" than to absorb it and apply it to themselves. YIKES!
I have to admit, waking up to the truth of my habits has been both humbling and heartbreaking.
Have I taught my kids they aren't enough? OH MY GOD! If I did, it wasn't deliberate, but it had to stop immediately.
This is the reason I make the conscious choice, every day, to watch my words.
When I catch myself thinking or saying anything that doesn't align with the love I know I am
(is somehow degrading or limiting), I reverse the message right away...and I say the new statement out loud. A few examples:
"How could I be so blind" becomes, "I'm not blind, I just didn't see it before."
"I'm depressed" becomes, "I'm not depressed, I just feel sad (lonely, angry, tired) because...,
but everything is okay. It's only a feeling, and it has a message. I will find it, and it will pass."
"I was bad and ate a piece of cheesecake" becomes, "I wanted something sweet, chose the cheesecake, and it was great" or "I ate the cheesecake because I was feeling lonely, and now I don't feel good. Next time I'm feeling lonely, I'll take a walk."
We can rearrange our words and thoughts to serve us, instead of running us on the hamster wheel of misery.
I once believed I was my depression, and I never failed to reinforce this belief by becoming depressed or defending my right to be depressed.
Once I decided all of my feelings were normal and valid, I stopped fighting them and started validating myself instead. I tried out new messages like:
Creating empowering messages can be life changing.
Give it a try! Decide on your message. Write it down. Say it several times a day, morning, noon, and night. Breathe it in. Feel it changing you from inside. Own it, and you will become it.
Do you really want to keep buying into those old, worn out messages keeping you stuck in the past and afraid of your future? Me either!
You are the only one who can unlock your life.
Here's the key.
For a long time I included it among other "four letter words" I had trouble integrating including safety, love and acceptance.
I tried getting those things from other people because I wasn't willing to give them to myself. (Willing is the operative word here.)
I've seen many mental health professionals over the years, and the best ones were invested in building my self-confidence. A handful told me I already had everything I needed within me to heal.
It's the secret few professionals tell you (maybe because they don't know it yet themselves).
We end up depressed and hopeless because we disconnect from our power and the truth of who we really are.
As a result, we end up feeling lost, alone, and dead inside. We stop trusting ourselves.
I watched both of my sisters detach from themselves and the world around them. The downward spiral was unnerving, and I felt helpless in my efforts to offer strength and hope.
It took losing them BOTH to wake me out of my own complacency.
I had to finally accept my past, become aware of how it shaped my life, and choose how I wanted to live going forward.
I could've easily followed in their footsteps.
As the youngest I'd always looked up to my sisters, and losing them almost broke me.
It was easy for me to slip into the helplessness of depression, because I already knew it so intimately.
But I made a choice to love myself more. A choice to stay and create a brand new life.
I know now I can trust my inner guidance, because It has never lied.
I only fought it because I'd learned to listen to the outside voices rather than the quiet one within. Once I realized the truth of this power, I never looked back.
Slow down, get quiet, and listen to your inner voice.
It is life.
It is love.
It is wisdom.
It is waiting.
Edited by Melissa Drake
This is part two in a two-part series about how I've navigated complex trauma. Click here to read part one: My journey Into And Out of Darkness.
I was nearly 30 years old before finally waking up to the realization that things were no longer working in my life and desperately needed to change. My therapy had come to a standstill, and I had tried everything available short of a lobotomy (yes, I asked); psychotherapies, medications and even shock treatments. I was desperate, but nothing offered lasting results.
For most of my life, I looked to medical professionals for advice, hoping an accurate diagnosis would lead to an absolute cure. I was convinced they were the experts who held the magical key to the box of answers I was so desperately seeking.
I had been willingly (and unconsciously) handing over my power and my body to science. No one could get a handle on my symptoms or even settle on a diagnosis, so they just kept adding more medication to try to get me to baseline functioning. At one point, my doctor had me on so many meds I had double vision and slurred speech.
One Saturday morning, I received a surprise call from my therapist (who was not affiliated with my psychiatrist). She was deeply concerned I was being over medicated and mishandled, and encouraged me to advocate for myself. The tone in her voice frightened me, so I took her words to heart. She cared enough to risk everything for me (including the position she held at the counseling center).
She told me several times during our work together that I inherently knew how and what I needed to heal. She even encouraged occasional breaks from our regular sessions, explaining that scheduled play time was just as vital to my well-being as the deep work we were doing.
Most importantly, she believed in me when I had no other support, and she wasn’t afraid to sit with me or my pain.
That Saturday changed my mindset about who and what I would continue to allow within my healing space. I took the advice of my therapist and expressed my concerns with my doctor. I insisted it wasn’t acceptable (or normal) to have compromised vision or impaired speech, and I needed to feel and be more in control of my own body.
He sat stunned and almost panicked as I told him of my action plan. That was the last time I ever saw him.
I was determined to find a professional who would understand, appropriately treat, challenge and support me. I would run from those who doubted, limited, or tried to stuff me into a diagnostic box.
I’d heard of a man who took on “hard core” abuse cases. (You overhear lots of things in hospitals.) I felt he might be a good choice, so I followed my gut and scheduled a session with him. He didn’t let me down.
I applied for disability for my Major Depressive Disorder, and thankfully within one year, I started receiving benefits. I was adamant about taking as little medication as possible so I could function at the highest possible level. My new doctor dutifully and respectfully complied with my wishes.
I began listening to my body and following its lead. It was a slow and steady process, and there was sabotage along the way. I lost several good therapists at critical times during my recovery, due to strange and not-so-coincidental “circumstances.” One disappeared mysteriously overnight, and one was let go from her unpaid internship. (My chart, incidentally, went missing and never resurfaced.)
When you start to heal from the inside out, people around you notice, and their response is not always favorable. They may become confused (even infuriated) when you challenge them or don’t behave and respond to them in familiar ways. My experience was no exception. There were serious consequences for both seeking and speaking the truth.
In the end, I had to cut some ties, and walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. However, I don’t doubt for a minute that it saved my life.
I had to break all addictive patterns, and that included relational addictions too, especially to those with a vested interest in keeping their secrets safe. Those individuals will not tolerate healing and will undermine your best interests.
I’ve started over in therapy many times. While this has frustrated me, I never allowed it to stop my relentless pursuit of recovery and happiness. Somehow, I knew happiness was my basic right as a living, breathing human being.
I don’t have much respect for people who quit therapy after a setback because it’s “just too hard to start over again.” Life is nothing if not about starting all over again. It’s really a matter of priorities.
I wanted my life back, and I fought relentlessly for it. I’m worth it.
I’ve had many counselors, and each one brought something new to the table. I was held accountable for my thoughts and behaviors, and I eventually stopped blaming everyone else for everything wrong in my life. I finally started accepting responsibility for my own choices, actions and reactions.
After three years on disability, I returned to the workforce where I’ve since stayed.
This process is not for the faint of heart, and I continue to work on and surround myself with people who call me out on my BS. (My kids take this job very seriously.) It’s necessary, because I sometimes slip. If I want to be a healthy person and attract healthy people, I need to keep my thoughts and behaviors in check.
It has taken years of practice, brutal honesty (with myself and others) and sheer determination to unwire old, distorted and self-destructive thought patterns and ways of being.
I employed many different cognitive and trauma- based therapies, and highly recommend adding Reiki, Polarity Therapy, Somatic Release, and/or Myofascial Release for anyone who has suffered physical or sexual abuse. It removes constrictions in the body and creates new energy flow to expedite the healing process.
I've experienced major wins and I've had some huge setbacks throughout my journey.
I have loved and lost but, through it all, I am finally loving myself. I might get tired and I might take breaks, but I don't give up.
I won’t. My kids are counting on my promise to stay, right here with them, where I belong.
I still contend with the unpredictable nature of C-PTSD, but I’m becoming much more aware of my patterns. I continue to feel the emotions associated with fragmented memories, but I realize today, I can choose not to ride the Thoughts/Feelings Train into the land of oblivion.
I can choose to acknowledge feelings with the eyes of curiosity and compassion, and let them to move through me instead of letting them consume and ravage me.
I can focus forward, until the vision I hold for my life comes to fruition. I can remind myself of who I really am through meditation, by silently and deliberately connecting to everything and everyone I know and love.
PTSD and depression have been part of my journey, but they don't have to define me. They have taught me great lessons about myself, my brain, my experiences and human nature.
I now believe people are doing the best they can, at any given moment, with the skills they have. I also now know that what happened to me wasn't personal. It was a direct result of old, established patterns and mindsets passed on by abused and broken generations.
The difference today is having the awareness and ability to stop that cycle, for my children and the generations to come.
That, my friends, is badass!
R Jade McAuliffe-
Author, coach, and poet; believer in things unseen.
"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o'er wrought heart and bids it break."