I am many things, but Superwoman is not one of them....

Working on myself has been an ongoing project... 

Years and years of work and time have been spent.... 

Hours upon hours in therapy sessions.... 

Money that could have been spent on chocolate.... 

went to my therapist.... 

Anyway.... 

It's really a never-ending process.... There is always room for improvement.... always.... however, with that being said, it is also necessary to stop and appreciate the progress made.... 

Let me take this back a month....

A month ago, I walked into a Yoga studio, knowing absolutely nothing about yoga, except that I would probably get the giggles, the way mom and I do when we are moving a mattress, or, with my luck, I'd be the one who got gas, and would spend most of my "quiet time" focusing on not passing it.... 

The first class was so strange for me.... I seriously started crying.... yep! crying.... of course, I wasn't full on bawling and I had my eyes closed so that no one would really notice I was crying, but I was... I don't know what moved me to tears.... Maybe it was the instructor's incredibly soft, compassionate voice.... or the words she had been sharing with us over those 75 wonderful minutes.... or, perhaps, it was the painful position she'd had us in that had my feet going numb, while my arms shook like crazy.... When those funky shooting pains would take over, I couldn't focus on anything else, except how the hell I was going to get out of the position and make it work for me.... I DID manage to hear her words over the zapping, shooting pains, and they stuck with me.... 

"Speak to yourself.... the way you would to a loved one.... think of the voice you would speak to a loved one with.... use that voice when you speak to yourself.... 'Thank you self.... thank you for coming in and practicing yoga today,' she'd had us say to ourselves...

All I could picture was my mean tone.... the frustrated tone that I get with the ones I love, because, for me, that is the "raw" me.... the tired me. the sad me. the upset me. the angry me. the exhausted me. it's the premenstrual me. it's the postmenstrual me. it's the super-highly sensitive me. it's the A.D.D me... it's the all of me that complete strangers aren't always around for.... They don't spend hours on end with me.... through all of the ups and downs.... usually on the bad days, I'm not out of my hermit shell.... I can FEEL that it's not a fantastic day, and so I stay inside.... I avoid the world at all costs, and likely get by with the bare minimum.... 

HOWEVER.... during our yoga class 2 weeks later, the same instructor was back and teaching us again.... THIS time, she'd said something that stuck out to me again.... she'd told us to get into position in a way that worked for us.... she'd said that we wouldn't always be able to do the same stretches, reaches, flexes, extensions... She said, "do what you are comfortable with today, as that is exactly what you should be doing.... that is your boundary.... your limit.... and you can accept that you are doing all that you can do.... today."  

THAT. STUCK. OUT. TO. ME.... and it has ever since.... I guess I sort of combined the two and tried to remember the tone that I would speak to a loved one with.... or a complete stranger.... I tried to think about the voice I used to use with my patients in Oncology.... the one that empathized and sympathized with them.... the voice that wanted them to feel comforted and cared for and loved.... I found that voice.... that soothing voice that I could find at the most painful moments.... I was able to find it.... It was probably the kindest voice I'd had....  I practiced thanking myself for practicing yoga and slowly started working on carrying it over into other areas.... 

I am my worst critic.... I think we all are.... but if you ask Jason, he'd tell you I am VERY hard on myself.... I don't expect perfection from anyone, but I DO expect it from myself.... the amount of disappointment that one can carry with them at the end of a day, FROM THEMSELVES, can be enough to drive them into a depression, I tell you!!!! It's no joke!!! 

When Jason and I met, I had just REALLY started the beginning of "finding myself...."  I hate to use those two words, but it really was the beginning of my self-acceptance.... I could remember when (just before Jason and I met), I'd feel so lonely.... In those extremely lonely moments, I made an extra effort to acknowledge those feelings of loneliness.... I'd light a candle in my living room... I would plug my iPod into my television speaker and play soft, relaxing music.... I'd play a variety of music, but for some reason, the John Mayer's "Continuum" album comes to mind as being the album that played the most... There were many songs that I could just feel in my heart... (music has a way of moving me).... I remember lying on the floor, with my arms out by my sides, looking up at the ceiling and acknowledging every painful feeling I was feeling at that moment.... not that I was feeling sorry for myself or anything like that, but more that I was basically opening up my heart, my hands, my mind.... I was opening up myself to accept that right at that moment, I was feeling weak.... I was feeling weak and lonely, and desperate and pretty darn hopeless... I was feeling sad and confused.... and then when the flood of emotions seemed to quiet down, even if just a tiny bit, I started to find the strength to tell myself that these feelings would pass.... they would soon pass and they weren't going to last, at least not forever.... 

Sometimes it took many more minutes than others to talk myself out of those not-so-great feelings.... other times it was almost instantly.... 

Where had that time gone?! When was the last time I had laid on the floor of a quiet, dark room or house, looking up at the ceiling, with candles burning and music softly playing?  hahahahahahaha!!!! GOOD ONE, ASHLEY! I couldn't tell you the last time anything like that had happened.... Are you kidding me? I've been COMPLETELY consumed these past 5 years.... consumed in all different sorts of stuff.... different types of things, activities, thoughts.... everything! 

So, just recently, I have worked on the tone I use when I speak to myself and I say this.... 

I am a mother. 

I am a wife.

I am a member on a Board of Directors.

I am a newsletter editor. 

I am a clerical coordinator in a busy unit.

I am a daughter.

I am a step daughter.

I am a friend.

I am a neighbor.

I am a housekeeper.

I am a stranger.

I am a lot of different things, but I am not Superwoman....

When I wake up in the morning, many mornings I will ask Jason, "Is there anything that you would really like done today? Anything I can do for you that would really help you out or make things easier on you?"  Sometimes he has things he'd like done... I try to watch the clothes in his closet (his work shirts, undershirts and jeans).... I try to remember to check his underwear and sock drawer to make sure he never gets too low or runs out.... I really try to remember to check those things.... In fact, I really try to stay on top of the laundry so that the pile doesn't get out of control and everyone is out of everything.... A lot of times I'm successful.... other times I am not....  When he'd leave for work in the morning and say, "hey momma, I'm on my last pair of socks," it used to drive me up the freakin' wall! I may have given him a bit of a snippy attitude, because I really don't like being told to do anything (though he wasn't directly TELLING me to DO anything).... but I think even more than that, it was frustration with myself that I hadn't caught that he was on his last pair of socks.... I would get upset that I didn't notice that his sock and underwear drawer were running too low.... 

I sometimes ask what I can do for Jason, because I really do want to be a good wife. I genuinely WANT to make things easier on him and help things run as smoothly as possible, however, I am accepting more and more, that I am a lot of things, but Superwoman is not one of them.... 

Some days, I am a really great friend.... Being a great friend, often means that other areas may have been neglected... The house might not have been cleaned or straightened the way it would on a day when I was a great housekeeper/wife.... I used to wake up sometimes and ask Jason, "Is it more important to you that I am a good mom or a good housewife today," because I really felt like it was almost impossible to be both.... and I ONLY use the term "almost" because I know there will be all those "superwoman" mom's out there who will give me their perfect formula that makes them perfect at everything.... 

Folks, we are ALLLLL different in so many ways.... If we weren't, perhaps YOU would be married to my husband and I just might be married to yours.... but that's not the case.... there is something.... there are some thingsssss, that brought us to each other.... Do we look at how we can HELP our partners, rather than criticize them?   Jason talks about this light in me that I had that was just so bright when we met.... he said it was so bright that it reflected OUTSIDE of me and onto everything I surrounded myself with.... I thought, "well that's holding me to a pretty high expectation... I'm not bright enough to shine light for EVERYONE!!!!"  What was different from then and now?  Well, I was alone then.... just Taylor and I.... I was just beginning to accept the things I did not like to do.... I did not like to cook.... I rotated a few different recipes around and "worked around" the other days...  I didn't ever successfully deep clean the entire place at once so that I could enjoy the entire house, clean.... so I hired a cleaner.... she came every 2 weeks and I was so happy that I had such a nice, clean home... I was accepting my shortcomings.... well, some might call them shortcomings, I just call them my "I-don't-like-to-do-these-or-else-I'm-not-good-at-them" things.... Regardless, I found, what I like to call "work-arounds."  

These days, I try to plan accordingly.... if there is something that absolutely HAS to be done that day, then I really try to muster up the strength, energy or whatever else is needed, to get the task done.... Then I think about what I feel like I would like to be doing, or where I feel I am needed the most.... At the end of the day, there are days the house is messy.... like, "throw-that-pile-of-papers-on-the-floor-so-you-can-sit-on-the-couch" messy.... At the end of that day, I likely wasn't a good housewife, or housekeeper, but you can bet, I was good at something else.... whether is be a good employee, or a great mom.... I was great at something else.... and so, from here on out, I have been reflecting on my accomplishments at the end of my days and praising what I WAS good at that day.... In the early portion of my days, I decide what I will be good at and I give all I've got to what I choose to be and then I free myself of the guilt for not being good at everything else.... You can have an immaculate house, but you may not have been the best mother that day, yelling at your kids to put away the toys they wanted to play with out in the living room.... You can acknowledge all of the wonderful things you are.... all of the roles you can carry.... and you can even choose which one you'd like to be.... you can choose what cape to wear that day... but remind yourself that of all the things that you are, superwoman (or superman) is not necessarily one of them.... Not all tasks can be completed, and all of the roles cannot be filled.... but you can most certainly remind yourself, with praise, what you WERE good at for that day... and know that tomorrow, when the sun rises, yet again, you will be given another chance to choose a different role with different responsibilities and it doesn't make you any less of a person... 

Such a wonderful lesson to accept one's self.... I hope you will try this one for yourself, starting with today, or even yesterday! What were/are you good at? I bet you are just super at so much more than you give yourself credit for!!!!  

Have a wonderful week everyone!!!! 

I haven't thought of a title for this "series" yet.... but I'll call this Part 1.

NOTE:  My blog is not meant to put anyone down,  to offend anyone, to hurt anyone's feelings.... Honestly, that is not what my intentions will ever be from here on out, however, I am fully aware that with this being MY blog (and my view on things, and how I feel about things), it will happen. For that, I really want to apologize in advance.  The only way we experience things is from our point of view.... Sure, we can try to step outside of ourselves and simply imagine how something might make us feel, but we are doing just that.... we are only imagining, guessing, assuming that we know how someone else interprets their pain, love, happiness, sadness.... We all interpret things differently, and I'm going to hold onto that thought and continue to try my hardest to let go of what I do not understand, for it isn't mine to understand..... 

I guess we all come from somewhere, no?  We have a childhood.... a lifetime we remember and hold onto to process (usually at a much later time in life), and develop our own perception and feelings about things.... ultimately, it becomes our reality.... the way we think and believe things to be.... THAT, directly (and indirectly), affects the relationships we have with other people.  Does that make any sense?  I mean, we all remember our childhood and mainly by feelings.... the certain way things made us feel....

You see, that's the thing.... You never know how something, such as your actions, will impact someone or make them feel.... You never know how you are impacting your children or what someone may carry with them throughout life.... A child doesn't necessarily understand actions, but they know what they feel.... even if they can only express it as "good" or "bad," right?  I have reallllly tried to explain things to the kids.... When we observe something together, or the kids observe something that they talk about, I make it a point to talk about it with them.... we try to talk it through together, and unless it is my own actions, I can't ever explain why someone does something that they do, but I still try to talk it through with them. This is very important to me that they learn, early on, not to take someone else's actions, personally....  I'll touch more on what I mean by this at a later time. I just feel that communication, ALLLLL around communication, is VITAL for people, including children, at all times of our life.  I am fortunate for the communication my mom had with me, because with her upbringing, she could have not communicated in any way, or sought the help that she did, not only for herself, but for us as well.... I'm thankful for that.... and I really want to continue that help-seeking desire.... you know, the one that just keeps you continuing to seek improvements for yourself and for your children and relationships?

Anyhow....

The underlying issue is ultimately mine....

My entire life has been spent not being good enough to or for anyone.... yes, family included.... Perhaps, this is caused by an extremely high expectation or what being "good enough" for someone means.... Perhaps that all comes from how you think someone "would" or "should" treat you if you were, in fact, good enough....

What do I mean by "I wasn't good enough?" ....

From my point of view, this is how it has felt.... these are the things I guess I've always thought, which has led me to the assumption that I wasn't ever good enough....  Mom was a single mom. She had three daughters, 2 ex husbands (who didn't like to help), and her own mother who depended on her (and by dependent, I don't mean she was ill or disabled, I mean she just really depended and EXPECTED my mom to take care of her and help her).  Take it back even further to Mom's childhood, where I won't go right now, and it seems almost justified that she wasn't the happiest person.

As MOST parents do, we have our moments... Overall, we feel an abundance of love and joy and would put our lives on the line for the ones we love, mainly our children.... There is a reason we continue to push through times that just feel hopeless for us.... Mom wasn't protected by her parents when she was younger.  She vowed, from such an early age, to never, ever have her children feel unprotected.... That was what was the most important to her. She wanted us girls (my sisters and I) to have a high level self esteem.  She wanted us to be confident.  She wanted us to have stability, something she also never had.... So she worked, and she worked hard.... she maintained the same job from 18 years of age until she retired.... She even picked up a 2nd job when times were tough, because it meant we would stay in the same house for 21 or so years.... She built on an entire house on the back of our house, so that my grandmother (her dependent mother), could live with her and be financially stable.... Mom spent much of her entire life ENSURING that that very same woman, who failed to protect HER as a child, was taken care of.... NEVER going without ANYTHING she has EVER needed....

Now, I will say that Grandma has helped us ALL very much in her later adult years. Living in her own house in the back of our house, allowed her to help mom watch us, take us to school, pick us up sometimes, make us dinner.... she did help.... Though those memories are not all good ones, I am thankful she was there to help in the comfort of our own home, and that we didn't have to go to any other daycare or anywhere else...  Grandma cooked a lot of our meals, because mom's hours were always different at work, but we always had mom's work number and she ALWAYS made herself available for and to us.... I KNOW we bugged her far more than my kiddos EVER would. (of course, we have entirely different technology now, like cell phones, etc).... Anyway.... I wasn't Grammy's favorite and that's okay for me now.  I was the middle child. My older sister was the greatest thing because she was the oldest (as was my grandma in her set of siblings after her brother passed away at a very young age, so perhaps that is where the "oldest" connection came in).... and then there was my younger sister, who was adored by Grammy because "she was the baby and soooo cute."  Funny, I don't resent her at all for being the baby and being soooo cute.... She was never overly spoiled and she was really quite dependent from a young age....

Grammy really helped her other daughter a lot. Mom and Auntie suffered a LOT as children.... they suffered through things I cannot even begin to fathom.... Two girls, went through very many of the same things together, and both handled things entirely different.... Now, like I've said, my blog is not a place meant to bash anyone or hurt anyone's feelings, though I am rather certain it will do one, if not both.... I am sorry for any offending or hurt feelings. These are not my intentions, but this IS my blog, and I don't want to sugarcoat how I feel about things or how I see them. This blog is just that.... how I view things.... how I see them.... and how I feel about them.... this says nothing about you or anyone else....  with that being said, let me go on.... Auntie headed down a path and she needed help. She needed lots of help from family and relatives and mom and Grammy helped a significant amount.  I remember, when I was a lot younger, my Aunt coming and staying at my grandma's house in the back of ours.... She was just emotionally exhausted.... cried a lot.... I remember a few more specific things, but won't go into the details. I just remember feeling so helpless.... like there was nothing that I could do to help. I also remember sitting on the floor or at grammy's dining room table because auntie was laying on the couch, either watching TV or sleeping. If she was sleeping, then we had to be really quiet or just go home, so we wouldn't wake her... I remember grammy standing in the kitchen (after she'd just worked a full day at the hardware store (she worked full-time), cooking dinner for everyone.... Maybe she really enjoyed cooking, or perhaps, it was out of guilt for where she lacked in her earlier parenting years, but whatever reason, there she was....

I didn't fully appreciate her actions as a child because she wasn't very kind to me. She was fine. She didn't physically beat me or anything. She just wasn't very kind.  My sisters would make stuff up and tell her and, without question or anything, she'd come knock me in the head with her knuckle. It wasn't abusive, truly, it wasn't, but it was enough to hurt and for me to feel angry with my sisters and my grandma (then) and think, "but I didn't even DO anything!!!!"

Whatever this is to some, it's just a glimpse in the past for me.... I wasn't able to process all of this as a child, but I held onto it. I guess I "put it in a pile to be sorted later," so-to-speak.... I observed the things that went on and I just held onto it and didn't think much about it, except how it made me feel and that there wasn't anything I could do, at that age, to make anything happen any differently than the way it was happening.... but I'd be damned if I didn't try.....

to be continued....

I go all in for you.

I go all in for you, friend.
to show you love, with great hopes,
that you'll feel inspired enough,
to pass the love on, you know....

I go all in for you, gram.
to be the strength that you need.
to be your ears that can hear,
and your hope when you plead....

I go all in for you, sis.
I thought you knew that by now,
to be the one you could trust,
to keep you going somehow....

I go all in for you, dad.
because you weren't around.
to know what kind of kid I was,
and who I am now....

I go all in for you, pup,
because I know you can't speak.
I know love and compassion,
are all that you seek....

I go all in for you, stranger.
because what do I know?
maybe just what I have,
is what you need to grow....

I go all in for you, all....
but when I come home,
the ones that mean the most,
are the ones I've left alone....

So, it happened again....

Lots has happened these past few years... but there just hasn't been a whole lot that has moved me a whole lot.... Not enough to sit back down here, consistently, again.....

It was another normal day.... sitting at a desk.... preparing one chart, and another one comes in.... admitting one person, and another comes in.... printing lab results or medical records.... there's always something else to do, and you have very little time to be stopped in your tracks.  There's one after the other and they just keep coming....

But every so often, there will be one that will stand out to you... One that stays on your mind far longer than you thought possible.... or the one that just brings you to tears.... 

I could feel my skin crawl.... it felt almost like chicken skin, but it also felt hot... and it didn't feel like it was on top of my skin, it felt like it was beneath my skin. I felt all fuzzy and like I could barely move....

She came in for a headache.

They're common, you know.... Headaches..... sometimes associated with high blood pressure and such....

Medical field usually does the whole process of elimination thing, right?  You pick some tests and try to eliminate things that it is NOT, so that you can narrow down your choices to find out what it IS.... All doctors do things differently.  

Well, I'm not sure who decided to do the MRI, but with that one test, an entire family's lives were completely flipped upside down.... 

There was a tumor....

For the quick moment in an entirely different department that is mostly happy times, the blow was devastating.... 

It's like the rest of the sounds around me were drowned out by the repetitive thoughts of the years before.... 

Folks used to ask me, "How do you do it? I couldn't ever do it."

You'd be surprised.... There is a lesson in everything....

Those folks don't just need us....

We need them just as much as they need us....

THEY shed light into our lives that we wouldn't see otherwise, unless WE were directly affected by cancer's ugly face....

THEIR lives are completely flipped upside down and inside out and I can only imagine the flood of thoughts that just come POURING in.... thoughts about their family members.... how long they have left... who they'll leave behind.... their kids.... Oh God, their kids.... their poor kids.... 

Don't get me wrong, I love what I do.... I do. Most of the time, there are happy moments, healthy moments, happy parents, happy families.... Moments of celebration, yes....

But there is also another place that I feel like I need to be.... I feel like they need me.... but even more than that, I just might need them more.... I look back at my writings from those years and find that life's blessings were more easily visible.... Life didn't feel like such work, but blessings. How wonderful it would be for everyone to feel that abundance of blessings again..... 

May each and every one of you truly STOP....

Stop in your tracks.....

Look allllll around you.

Take in the sunshine and the beauty it reflects on so many other beautiful things.... like the paint on your car (you are blessed with a vehicle to get you around), the leaves, blowing in the breeze, the ocean water.... oh, the ocean water..... 

Listen to the way your children talk to each other.... Be thankful they can both talk, even if it is to argue.... They can speak and they can understand and they feel.... they have feelings and emotions and a heart that beats....

I'm sitting under the ceiling fan in our bedroom.... sooo thankful for a home.... for a fan.... for a window that overlooks the bright sun shining on these beautiful trees, and my rain gutter planters that my incredible husband built for me because he knew how badly I wanted them....

I have been moved again.

Moved with passion.... 

I am moved.... 

May you be moved to the point of dreaming BIG.....

May you be moved enough to make a move.... 

I am genuinely sending out my love to you folks today.... 

My heart is so full.... 

Epiphany: Turning away from the issue and to comfort. By then it's too late.... I'm done....

This post will likely not make sense... it sort of comes out of left field and though I normally like to lead in to something, that's not really how my brain works most of the time.  Most of the time, it's all over the place.  So here goes.

I've had a therapist for so many years; since I was about 11 years old. Though it hasn't always been the same one, it has been the same one since I was about 15, I think?  I'd have any kind of issue and since I was able to drive (at 16), I could go in anytime I wanted or needed. I'd just drive myself. I didn't have to have anyone there with me. Mom let me go by myself, and I am so thankful for that. I think this started the habit of going to someone who WASN'T the issue and talking to my problem to them. This way it allowed me to get it all off my chest, without dealing with the crap that could or would arise from the actual person who pissed me off in the first place.

Let me go back about as far back as I can remember and start there....

When we were younger, my mom and stepdad (at that time, NOT PAT) would argue like cats and dogs. They were two terribly different people and they both were very protective of their own kids. It was a terrible clash of two personalities and they argued, pretty intensely, just about every weekend.  Fortunately, we had a home built on in the back of our house and that is where my grandma lived. When they'd start arguing, we'd go out the back door and into grammy's front door and stay there while they argued.  I am SO thankful that eventually they parted ways and mom vowed to never go through that crap again.  Anyway.... they argued, and we could run to grammy's for "comfort" (for lack of a better word). I couldn't EVER talk to the stepfather.  He just wasn't approachable and had zero communication skills. He was a good teacher if you wanted to learn to play backgammon.... or chess.... or if you wanted to just sit and watch a movie (he could watch movies for hours without ever speaking a word).... anyway.... any and all of the anger I'd ever had towards him was NEVER expressed directly towards him.... it was kinda stuffed down inside when I'd run to grammy's back house.  She'd either turn the TV on, play games with us or cook us something to eat.... The bad was quickly covered up with that of comfort or "happiness," though the bad feelings didn't just magically disappear.... They were MASKED....

Mom was a single mom for most of our childhood years.... I KNOW how exhausting this can be.... she worked full time (and for some years, she worked SEVEN days a week).... she STILL somehow found time to clean, do laundry and care for us.... and make time for us to take vacations and such.... how difficult it must have been to have THREE children.... ALL girls.... constantly arguing with each other.... I would have pulled my hair out, for sure....  With that being said, she still managed to pay the bills, work on the house, and everything else it took to run a functioning home and maintain her job. Our house was beautiful.  We'd won Lakewood's most beautiful one year.... She did a wonderful job at maintaining everything, and for the first time in my life, I understand why our home was so beautiful and well-kept. It is peaceful to work in the garden.... It is without kids fighting.... it's outside, in sunlight, and usually alone... which means, that, at least for a brief period of time, you just might find yourself lost in YOUR OWN THOUGHTS.... whatever they may be....  Most of my memories are filled with her understanding and willingness to help us fix our problems.... I can also say, that it wasn't always "the right time" to approach her or bring up a topic.... Not because she wouldn't allow it, but because there was so much going on all the time and I just wasn't fully in tune with how to bring up a topic.... I think I set my feelers out for her moods a lot of the time.... If she was in a bad mood, I felt like it was selfish to bring up something I wanted to bring up.... Of course, when we were little, we probably were so self-absorbed, that we paid no attention to anyone else's moods but our own....

There was a lot of pain and trouble understanding my father.  He lived in San Francisco until I was about 7 years old (we lived in southern California).... So we saw him sometimes, but not as often as a child would most likely like to see their parent.... (assuming they adore their parents, that is)....

Well, I adored my dad.  For whatever reasons, I adored him. He was the funniest person I knew.... He knew how to have fun with us. He really did....

Dad moved away to Tennessee with stepmom when I was 7.  There are parts of that move that I distinctly recall.... I remember HELPING to pack boxes in his condo, and not fully understanding just how far he was moving away. I remember him showing me, on a map, where they'd be moving, and I remember him telling me over and over again how he'd still be seeing us often, just that he'd be further away and it would take a little longer to get to each other....  I remember him showing us pictures of his new home and without even seeing it, I knew I couldn't wait to see it....  until I did.

I loved his home in Tennessee.... I loved his home and I loved how fun he was, and I didn't pay much attention to everything else, but that.... that's what I tried to focus on and I think that even though there was pain (that I couldn't quite explain where it came from at the time), I pushed through it because I wanted to see and spend time with dad.  He loved sweets. (that's where I got my love for sweets).... He also loved music. (Music is a HUGE part of my life).... He also loved cigarettes and beer.... and a woman....

Though I couldn't quite pinpoint the pain (at that time), I knew SOMETHING wasn't right.... guess who was there for THOSE feelings? Mom was.... mom was there.... for comfort, without judging, without prying, without anger or sadness or frustration... she'd listen to my little 7-year-old problems from then until this very day....

She'd try her very best to understand them and to figure out where they were coming from... and it was so comforting.... it was a breath of fresh air, because a lot of times, it felt like she hit the nail on the head.... even if i didn't know what it was, she seemed to know....

Fast forward to many years later, and I'm sitting in my therapist's office expressing or explaining situations that involve everyone but my therapist.... I can explain the situation or express my feelings without fear of the pushback.... I can cuss if I want.... I can say things to the people that I am uncertain of how they'd react.... In fact, I am not even hurting their feelings.... I am able to express myself without hurting anyone else's feelings.... This became a learned behavior, mostly in dealing with my dad and stepmom.  I wasn't ever able to talk to them.... EVER.... I remember one time, in high school, when I'd called my dad. I was crying over a boy, and it was late in Tennessee.  His answering machine had picked up and I was crying to the machine. He'd picked up the phone and was so upset at me for 1. calling him that late, 2. for crying on the machine, because, to him, nothing was really wrong, 3. scaring him and making him think that something really was wrong and 4. for crying over a boy.... he was angry.... They were angry.... and just as quickly as I'd thought it was a good idea to call him, it became very apparent what a terrible idea it was.... I'd hung up the phone feeling even worse than I did when I'd called....

What an epiphany I'd had this morning.... soooo extremely upset, I'd turned to google today instead of another human....

I googled, "how to deal with resentment" and found this blog entry from tinybuddha.com.  It was everything I'd needed to read today....

to be continued....