Thursday, November 21, 2013

And this is how I feel.

Eta: this is NOT a post about searching for pity. This is about honesty and sharing feelings.  This is about my reality right now. And about my struggle to resolve issues with shame and humiliation. 

An interesting thing has happened to me over the last year.

I have tried. And I have failed.

I have been married. I thought...I believed...I trusted that I was making the right decision. I believed in the promises that were being made to me.

I was wrong. Again. Marriage number two- a huge failure. In more ways then one, as well. I have had more personal trials and tribulations as a results of my choices in this marriage, it has spilled into my professional life (how do you maintain "face" when all you feel, all you thought you were- your identity that you wrapped up in your marriage is false and painful?), it has spilled into the relationship with my children, it has cut me off from friends and I have lost relationships because of my choices.

Fail. Shame. Unworthy. Unlovable.

And again. I was assigned to a project. Maybe the project was too much for one person? Maybe the project was too large in scope for the time given to it? Or maybe it was just too much for me. And I don't know- no one has really said it, but I feel it. I have dropped the ball. I have failed this project and my team and myself.

Fail. Shame. Unworthy. Unlovable.

I look in the mirror. Sometimes what I see completely disgusts me. My face, my back, sometimes my arms and chest- breaking out. Like I am 16 again. My waist- what waist? My hips, my belly, too round, too big. My thighs- every run, rough and red because- imperfections. I think I have tried to lose weight and I've actually gained.

Fail. Shame. Unworthy. Unlovable.

I wake up and want to stay in bed most days. On better days, I wake up and manage to rise for my day, a pit in my stomach afraid for what I'll screw up that day. But it's worse when the pain happens at night. I go to bed alone, choked up, a pain in my throat from swallowing back tears, miserable left to my thoughts of who I could have been if years ago, I hadn't started making horrible decisions, decisions that led me to being this person I am today. A complete and utter failure.

I don't write this post out of pity. I write it out of honesty. Maybe if I get this crap out of my head, this poison out of my thoughts, I can save myself. Maybe I'm not alone.

I am trying to have it all and in the mean time I am doing nothing well. I am a single mom of four boys, I have degrees and a job but I am daily overwhelmed. I am afraid and alone and unsure of everything right now. I want to reject things right now before they reject me.

I want to find a way to fill my life with people who love and encourage, who are supportive while still being realistic. I want to be better, but I have no safe haven in which to screw up. I have driven myself to believe that the only acceptable output is perfection, while not acknowledging the unrealistic goal of perfection.

I am trying to dig myself out of this shame hole I have created for myself. I hermit away when I get this way.

In 2009, I started a journey that I called 365 days of happiness. It changed me. I changed me. From the inside out. I need a journey like this. I found a link, I think from project eve, that sent me to the author Brené Brown and quotes about shame and daring greatly.

Immediately, I knew, in my soul, that this is what I needed.

"Daring greatly means the courage to be vulnerable. It means to show up and be seen. To ask for what you need. To talk about how you're feeling. To have the hard conversations."
And here is the beginning of my difficult conversations. I am a woman filled with shame. I feel unworthy and unlovable. I want more for myself. It can't be too late because I am still here and I am still standing.

Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt knew this. That's the origination of "daring greatly." And so, I will feast on his words. I hope you will too.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” 
― Theodore Roosevelt
I am showing up. Asking for what I need. And this is how I feel.

1 comment:

  1. I love you. I am here. And I can remind you of your middle name if you need that.