Proof, edit, revise…repeat.
This is my life; a constant fluctuation of hopes, dreams, and plans evolving and changing. Some major life circumstances have changed for me in the past couple of days forcing me to revise my plans for building the house I have been planning for the past 3 years. I have revised the floor plan for the house no less than 7 times since I sketched out the first idea 3 years ago when Andie and I bought the land. And now the entire plan will be edited and revised again.
I will most likely be selling the land and looking for a different location to build, though I have no idea when that might actually happen. A week ago, I thought I’d be starting to build the house by the end of the summer. Now it is all an unknown again.
I have the sense that things work out for reasons beyond our understanding most of the time, so while I am disappointed, I am not discouraged. Okay, well I’m a little discouraged, but I have faith that things will be okay. Because somehow they always are.
Life isn’t a rough draft that we get to do over for a final version, but rather it is a working document. We’re always being given new opportunities, new challenges, new information that changes the rest of the story.
My life is a constant cycle of proof, edit, revise, and repeat…the glory being in that the edited and revised version is almost always much better than the original rough draft.
Check out my honors! (Click on the badges to see other great blogs too)
Showing posts with label insecurity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label insecurity. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Limbo
Before Andie died there weren't so many questions. Things were relatively permanent. I was married to this man. I would raise these kids. We would live in this town. Our kids would go to these schools. We would stay in these jobs.
Now everything feels so in limbo. One piece of the puzzle missing dramatically alters the whole picture. I keep up with the other widows who started this journey about the same time I did. We are all in limbo. Some are in new relationships, some are engaged, some are merging new families and becoming step-parents, some have moved homes, some have changed jobs. Some have done more than one of these things. Some have done none.
It is hard to have your life pretty well mapped out only to find yourself in uncharted territory without a compass. It is hard to make sense of this feeling; exhilarated about a second chance and new options while profoundly sad that none of it is what you ever really wanted. I suspect that like me, they too have some anxiety about it all. Longing for the ease and normalcy that comes when you think you know how it all will work out.
Now everything feels so in limbo. One piece of the puzzle missing dramatically alters the whole picture. I keep up with the other widows who started this journey about the same time I did. We are all in limbo. Some are in new relationships, some are engaged, some are merging new families and becoming step-parents, some have moved homes, some have changed jobs. Some have done more than one of these things. Some have done none.
It is hard to have your life pretty well mapped out only to find yourself in uncharted territory without a compass. It is hard to make sense of this feeling; exhilarated about a second chance and new options while profoundly sad that none of it is what you ever really wanted. I suspect that like me, they too have some anxiety about it all. Longing for the ease and normalcy that comes when you think you know how it all will work out.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Push me...
This is hard
This is hard
This is hard
This seems to be the refrain running through my mind most of the time these days. Aspects of my grief are being brought out daily as each new day is a new experience with someone new and I am constantly reconciling the new with the old. Constantly readjusting my focus. Constantly experiencing happiness and joy with the underlying tinge of sadness that this isn’t really how it was all supposed to turn out. The tears come so easy these days. Quick and hot on my cheeks. I am not the tough, strong girl I used to be. I allow myself to be more in touch with my emotions these days but it hurts. I question whether I am really ready to be in another relationship yet if I feel so emotional about all of this. But the answer is that you’re never really ready- no matter when it happens all of these issues will bubble up and you have to endure to move past it.
I thought I had gotten to a place of calm functioning with my grief. I was not doubled over in pain every day anymore. I could make it several days in a row sometimes weeks without crying. So to have it all brought back out and on the surface again feels doubly painful and confusing. How could something that makes me so happy bring me so much heartache. All I can think is…
No, I’m not going back here.
I was past this.
I don’t want to feel this again.
But I have to. You cannot know how grief will color and overshadow everything you do for the rest of your life until you walk into each and every new experience. You cannot prepare yourself for how it will feel to fall in love with someone else until it starts happening. And it hurts because you grieve all over again for the loss of the one you once loved. You can’t begin to understand how it will feel to have another person literally in his place at the table, sitting beside you in church, and holding the children, until you see it happening.
Being with someone new and trying to put all of my trust in them to be there for me only reignites my abandonment issues. The two most important men in my life both died suddenly and unexpectedly… my father when I was 15, and 15 years later it was my husband. The fear of that kind of loss happening again is paralyzing. I simply could not manage to pick myself back up from that kind of devastation.
I don’t want to revisit the pain so it seems easier to run from it. I think about sabotaging what I have in this new relationship and I even give it a pretty good effort, but in the end can’t bring myself to walk away from this incredible man who is so freaking understanding of it all. Who wants to help me heal and wants to be beside me in the process to support me through it. And as he reminds me, I could put this off but inevitably I will be with someone someday and all of this will come out again. Pay now or pay later.
So in pushing him away I’m really acting out of self-preservation but in doing so then I stay stuck. This is when I need someone to push me. To be behind me and say it’s all going to be okay and I will survive this. And he does. He does so with such dignity and gentle encouragement that I can’t help but believe him.
So I’ll continue to let him push me.
But damn it hurts.
This is hard
This is hard
This seems to be the refrain running through my mind most of the time these days. Aspects of my grief are being brought out daily as each new day is a new experience with someone new and I am constantly reconciling the new with the old. Constantly readjusting my focus. Constantly experiencing happiness and joy with the underlying tinge of sadness that this isn’t really how it was all supposed to turn out. The tears come so easy these days. Quick and hot on my cheeks. I am not the tough, strong girl I used to be. I allow myself to be more in touch with my emotions these days but it hurts. I question whether I am really ready to be in another relationship yet if I feel so emotional about all of this. But the answer is that you’re never really ready- no matter when it happens all of these issues will bubble up and you have to endure to move past it.
I thought I had gotten to a place of calm functioning with my grief. I was not doubled over in pain every day anymore. I could make it several days in a row sometimes weeks without crying. So to have it all brought back out and on the surface again feels doubly painful and confusing. How could something that makes me so happy bring me so much heartache. All I can think is…
No, I’m not going back here.
I was past this.
I don’t want to feel this again.
But I have to. You cannot know how grief will color and overshadow everything you do for the rest of your life until you walk into each and every new experience. You cannot prepare yourself for how it will feel to fall in love with someone else until it starts happening. And it hurts because you grieve all over again for the loss of the one you once loved. You can’t begin to understand how it will feel to have another person literally in his place at the table, sitting beside you in church, and holding the children, until you see it happening.
Being with someone new and trying to put all of my trust in them to be there for me only reignites my abandonment issues. The two most important men in my life both died suddenly and unexpectedly… my father when I was 15, and 15 years later it was my husband. The fear of that kind of loss happening again is paralyzing. I simply could not manage to pick myself back up from that kind of devastation.
I don’t want to revisit the pain so it seems easier to run from it. I think about sabotaging what I have in this new relationship and I even give it a pretty good effort, but in the end can’t bring myself to walk away from this incredible man who is so freaking understanding of it all. Who wants to help me heal and wants to be beside me in the process to support me through it. And as he reminds me, I could put this off but inevitably I will be with someone someday and all of this will come out again. Pay now or pay later.
So in pushing him away I’m really acting out of self-preservation but in doing so then I stay stuck. This is when I need someone to push me. To be behind me and say it’s all going to be okay and I will survive this. And he does. He does so with such dignity and gentle encouragement that I can’t help but believe him.
So I’ll continue to let him push me.
But damn it hurts.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Throw momma from the train...
Last night I freaked out. Totally, overboard, off my rocker, freaked out. I’ve been in this relationship for about four months. Long enough for us to discuss the future and see ourselves together in it. Long enough for it be (in my crazy head) time to be making out a timeline of when things might happen. I don’t do well with unknowns. I think this is something a lot of widows struggle with, especially when the loss was sudden and felt out of our control. We want to control everything else so we don’t ever have to be blindsided again. But, I readily acknowledge that this is also just part of who I am at the core. I like plans. And goals. And knowing what’s around the bend and what I’m up against. The problem is there are a lot of uncertainties in both of our lives right now that can’t be rushed. And it’s not that I want to rush it. It’s just that I want to know a general idea of how it might all play out.
This stems from my insecurity and fear of loss and abandonment, I know. I worry about letting my guard down, giving someone my heart, and possibly getting hurt again or God forbid, going through loss again. Some days it seems it would be easier to stick to what I’ve got. It’s not the most fulfilling, but at least it’s what I know and I’m comfortable with it. I’ve spent 19 months doing it my way, on my own, without anybody else’s input. It’s hard to think about letting someone else in on the routine, into my space, into my head, and mostly into my heart. Relationships of course take lots of compromise and I haven’t had to compromise for quite a while. Change brings disequilibrium. I want my equilibrium back.
So I started freaking out. Maybe this really isn’t what I want. Or maybe I want to rush it too fast and jump into something before I’ve given it due time- I worry this will scare him away. What if I’m making a huge mistake? What if we disappoint each other and get hurt in the process? What if, what if, what if…
I feel like I’m on a train that’s headed to a great destination. Or so I think. The problem is I can’t see what’s around the bend. I can’t tell if we’re gonna crash and I’m gonna get hurt. So maybe I should just jump. But that’ll hurt too…so I have to hedge my bets. I’ll definitely get hurt if I bail out now and lose such a great man. And I might get hurt if we go around the bend and there’s an obstacle in the tracks. Maybe if I continue to be this difficult, and overanalyze and worry too much about things that are out of my control it’s going to push him away and he’ll actually end up throwing me from the train. Or maybe, with a stroke of luck I’ll round the bend and utopia will be waiting for me. Only time will tell. A concept I despise.
When I share all of this with him he is the epitomy of perfect. He listens, reassures, empathizes, and validates. I’ll spare you the “he said”, “she said” of it all, but I will tell you that after he hears my neurotic and over-analytical musings, he says something to me that strikes me deep inside. He saw right through me and called me on it. Not in a bad way, in a way that showed me that he understands how my mind works maybe as well as I do. He’s only known me 4 short months and already understands how I think, how I feel, how I process in ways that only my best friend understands. He’s got an intuitive sense about what I need from him on an emotional level and isn't afraid to provide it. He truly gets me in a way that nobody ever has and it shocked me. My normal course of action would be to dodge and weave when I feel like someone’s seen all my cards, to divert the attention to something else. But all I could do was acknowledge that he was right. That he hit it square on. And it felt so good to let someone see me for me, and know they still accept me that way.
So when I tell him that I feel like jumping from the train and calling it quits to save us both pain down the road, he says he’s not letting me jump.
He’s holding on tight and gonna keep me safe.
And the cool thing is...I actually believe him. :)
This stems from my insecurity and fear of loss and abandonment, I know. I worry about letting my guard down, giving someone my heart, and possibly getting hurt again or God forbid, going through loss again. Some days it seems it would be easier to stick to what I’ve got. It’s not the most fulfilling, but at least it’s what I know and I’m comfortable with it. I’ve spent 19 months doing it my way, on my own, without anybody else’s input. It’s hard to think about letting someone else in on the routine, into my space, into my head, and mostly into my heart. Relationships of course take lots of compromise and I haven’t had to compromise for quite a while. Change brings disequilibrium. I want my equilibrium back.
So I started freaking out. Maybe this really isn’t what I want. Or maybe I want to rush it too fast and jump into something before I’ve given it due time- I worry this will scare him away. What if I’m making a huge mistake? What if we disappoint each other and get hurt in the process? What if, what if, what if…
I feel like I’m on a train that’s headed to a great destination. Or so I think. The problem is I can’t see what’s around the bend. I can’t tell if we’re gonna crash and I’m gonna get hurt. So maybe I should just jump. But that’ll hurt too…so I have to hedge my bets. I’ll definitely get hurt if I bail out now and lose such a great man. And I might get hurt if we go around the bend and there’s an obstacle in the tracks. Maybe if I continue to be this difficult, and overanalyze and worry too much about things that are out of my control it’s going to push him away and he’ll actually end up throwing me from the train. Or maybe, with a stroke of luck I’ll round the bend and utopia will be waiting for me. Only time will tell. A concept I despise.
When I share all of this with him he is the epitomy of perfect. He listens, reassures, empathizes, and validates. I’ll spare you the “he said”, “she said” of it all, but I will tell you that after he hears my neurotic and over-analytical musings, he says something to me that strikes me deep inside. He saw right through me and called me on it. Not in a bad way, in a way that showed me that he understands how my mind works maybe as well as I do. He’s only known me 4 short months and already understands how I think, how I feel, how I process in ways that only my best friend understands. He’s got an intuitive sense about what I need from him on an emotional level and isn't afraid to provide it. He truly gets me in a way that nobody ever has and it shocked me. My normal course of action would be to dodge and weave when I feel like someone’s seen all my cards, to divert the attention to something else. But all I could do was acknowledge that he was right. That he hit it square on. And it felt so good to let someone see me for me, and know they still accept me that way.
So when I tell him that I feel like jumping from the train and calling it quits to save us both pain down the road, he says he’s not letting me jump.
He’s holding on tight and gonna keep me safe.
And the cool thing is...I actually believe him. :)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Longing for past tense...
I have been thinking about who I am now that I don’t have Andie to be my sounding board and reflect back to me all the things he loved about me. I defined myself by what I was to him. I feel exposed and flawed now without his unconditional love and support.
I find myself looking for validation in others, whether that be through constant venting, talking, and lamenting with my girl friends and colleagues (or anyone who will listen), or even harmless flirtatious banter with men whom I actually have no interest in. I feel like I’ve been thrown back to middle school where the desperation to “fit in” was all consuming. Just wanting to believe I am fun, smart, interesting, pretty, exciting, worthwhile…then I feel reproach for myself because I used to be really confident. I used to just care about the opinion of one person outside of myself. I don’t like this desperate, clingy feeling. What happened to the put together girl I was? I want her back.
I don’t want to feel the need to check my email multiple times a day on the off chance that someone has something to share with me. I don’t want to be disappointed when my mom has to go home after being with me for 3 days straight because I don’t want to spend my evenings alone. I don’t want the quiet loneliness to be so loud that it’s actually deafening, so I find some noise, any noise, to fill it. I don't want to always be driven to constant distraction so I don’t have to be alone with myself. I don't want to suddenly be hypersensitive about how I look in the hopes that if I at least look put together, then people will believe I'm put together. I don't even like admitting all of this is rattling around in my head because it all seems so pathetic.
I want to be okay with me again.
I want to be secure and confident, and not just put up a good front about it.
I want to be the girl that everyone thinks I am.
I want to be the girl I was… in the life I had.
I find myself looking for validation in others, whether that be through constant venting, talking, and lamenting with my girl friends and colleagues (or anyone who will listen), or even harmless flirtatious banter with men whom I actually have no interest in. I feel like I’ve been thrown back to middle school where the desperation to “fit in” was all consuming. Just wanting to believe I am fun, smart, interesting, pretty, exciting, worthwhile…then I feel reproach for myself because I used to be really confident. I used to just care about the opinion of one person outside of myself. I don’t like this desperate, clingy feeling. What happened to the put together girl I was? I want her back.
I don’t want to feel the need to check my email multiple times a day on the off chance that someone has something to share with me. I don’t want to be disappointed when my mom has to go home after being with me for 3 days straight because I don’t want to spend my evenings alone. I don’t want the quiet loneliness to be so loud that it’s actually deafening, so I find some noise, any noise, to fill it. I don't want to always be driven to constant distraction so I don’t have to be alone with myself. I don't want to suddenly be hypersensitive about how I look in the hopes that if I at least look put together, then people will believe I'm put together. I don't even like admitting all of this is rattling around in my head because it all seems so pathetic.
I want to be okay with me again.
I want to be secure and confident, and not just put up a good front about it.
I want to be the girl that everyone thinks I am.
I want to be the girl I was… in the life I had.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)