Shame Pain

Have you ever looked at old pictures, remembering how good it was and pining for the past?

It's as if somewhere in time you forgot all of the things that you once were. Things change, people grow, captured moments in time sear your heart and the pangs ripple on somewhere deep in the conscious of your soul.

I can't even look at old photos anymore. 

They all just bring me regret. A big wave of shame washes over me as I remember the moments captured and what they could have been. But instead of being present in them, the memories of pain and of constantly trying to remove myself from the reality that I fought for years is prominent in my heart.

I made the decision to destroy my life because something deep inside of me knew that it would never be the same. I thought I had it perfect. I thought I was going with the flow so well. It didn't seem fair that in an instant my life would never be what I wanted it to be.

All of every dream and hope I ever had was washed away in less than an instant.

The photos of the last nine years are memories that every time I smiled into the camera, that every pixel that if I were anyone else would look as if my life was good and that I was happy, hide the fact that I spent the majority of those years self-destructing.  And not only that, I took the people closest to me with me.

As if my destruction needed to be shared.

My family stands now. But we are not unscathed. We are not untouched by my stubborn determination to cling to and have the life that I should have gotten, the life I wanted. And I am the only one to blame.

It's not that I feel entitled to any specific life. I don't. I wasn't expecting to be such a young mother. I wasn't expecting to be such a young wife. But I rolled with it. I allowed it. I had a good attitude. You'd think that would account for something...

But all of the photos of my boys growing, all of the photos of when they were babies, don't show me the joy and the fun of raising newborns and toddlers like the erroneous images would imply.

All I see when I look at those photos is the shame. The self destruction. The unwillingness to accept that my life was forever changed and that I fought it. I fought reality with destruction. And the stabbing knife of the hands of the clock finally caught up with me.

Now all I have for the past is the shame. Now all I see in the photos is the way I rebelled against the universe, only smiting myself the entire time. Only wasting my precious time that my daughter got so little of.  

Now I don't have the good, "normal"  memories of my family and my boys growing up.

I'm left with the bittersweet taste of shame and self hatred. I thought of all the things...I thought I could get through...Everyone thought that I was so strong. When really, I was just bringing everyone down with me. 

I don't know if I deserve to live. Maybe it should have been her instead of me. I lost not only her, but myself, I lost not only myself but memories that could have been good.

No wonder I've been thinking about death a lot lately.  No wonder I believe I deserve to die.

Grief Pains

Acceptance is so hard. 

Someone asked me what grief was like right after I lost Sunflower. That is an excellent question for many reasons. One reason is that grief is complex.

Directly after all of the initial trauma and loss, I kept waiting for my life to get back to "normal".  I don't know what exactly I thought "normal" would be, or look like, or feel like. The loss was sudden and unexpected and had taken me by surprise.

It wasn't that life was better before I lost Sunflower. It wasn't that life was worse after I lost her. I felt unprepared to deal with such a devastating blow to my soul. The loss stopped me in my tracks. It seemed to have stopped my world from spinning even though everyone else's world kept going. Everyone kept functioning, nothing shut down for me or my daughter while I dangled mid- movement, waiting.

It was as if I was transcended in time, dangling there, while I watched the traffic of the world zoom by. I remained this way for years. It was like I was living my life in slow motion. My head and my heart weren't connected to my decisions. I watched myself live out a life that I thought was expected of me, while I felt like a zombie, dead and gone. 

I passively had two more children. I did what I needed to get through the day. I functioned all the while not really being present. I lived this way for years until very recently I opened my eyes. I realized that I was headed down the path of destruction.

I had been careful all of those years succeeding losing her to not blame her for my life. My life was a mess. The kind of mess that nobody wants to find themselves in and the black hole of destruction kept widening.

The numbing became habitual. It felt normal. But my actions proved that I was still descending that dark path of destruction. No one said anything. No one tried to stop me. I had to save myself.

It took me almost nine years to begin removing myself from the dark spiral threatening to consume me that would eventually take my life. I flung my eyelids open to the harsh reality of what the pain, despair, and numbing had allowed me to miss.

The memories of the past nine years weren't happy. I felt guilty that I had bailed on mothering my boys. I went through the motions like a puppet on a string for them, yes. But was I present at their birth? Do I have the fond memories of my babies' first years of life firmly in place in my mind? I don't. 

I tried not to allow the guilt of the last nine years to consume me. I opened my eyes and the pain flooded through me, filling me. The pain has been an undeniable presence in my life for the past seven months straight now. It is a constant and continuous reality. It probably will be for some time.

I began realizing the intensity, the magnitude this loss had had on me. Maybe I did the best I could. Maybe I did all that I could do. Maybe it was enough.

But I'm awake now and I'm ready to live. Even if living means with a continuous, constant pain and a never closing hole in my heart.

Healing Alone

I've been doing some trauma therapy work. It's fascinating to me how our brains, bodies, and beings are so capable of the information that we store.

In trauma, the memories are stored in the body. The memories are kind of like repressed memories. But they are stored physically and literally inside of the body.

In trauma therapy a client will do what is called reprocessing. This means exactly what it sounds like. Memories of the event or experience will be talked about or brought up to the level of consciousness and all of the emotions surrounding the trauma will become fresh and new as if it had just happened.

This reprocessing must be done in order to cope with the trauma effectively. If the work isn't done after a traumatic event, the body will employ coping mechanisms that may cover the issue up or avoid it, but not fully deal with it. This is how many times trauma can lead to drug or alcohol use and abuse.

Spiritual and emotional healing cannot happen without learning how to think about the trauma in new healthy ways.

I've been dealing with some raw emotions and experiences dealing with my reprocessing which means that the reprocessing is working and that I am doing the work to achieve healing.

But the work has been lonely and the nature of grief is to be and feel alone. I've found in my healing, I need to share with others. I've met others who tell me they do their best healing alone. But for me, I need to share to heal.

I've tried to reach out to attend a support group for parents who have specifically lost a baby. But there aren't very many options which is probably good. Maybe that means there aren't enough people who need a support group like this.

I hadn't reached out to find a group like this since directly after I lost Sunflower. About a month ago I spent a good amount of time on the phone trying to find a group. It is exactly what I went through directly after her loss.

I finally was able to reach someone who facilitated a support group for newborn and infant loss. She called me back. I felt worse after talking with her. To me, a support group would be an opportunity for us as humans to include others. To acknowledge our human rawness in that we all go through very similar emotions, traumas, and griefs.

But the woman on the phone was not out to include or to make me (or probably others) feel a part of something. She had an agenda and it was apparent by the questions she asked me. Maybe this is something I notice because of my sensitivities and maybe it doesn't bother the rest of the population. I don't know. But it didn't feel very good.

Sometimes I feel like I'm doing the best that I know how to under the circumstances. I would go out on a limb and say that that is probably how the majority of us feel the majority of the time. But it's when people who are supposed to be helpers come across as manipulative or like they have an agenda that it ruins what could have been something to save the world when they turn it into the same old hate and discrimination that we can all find anywhere and everywhere.

It's disappointing to me that it's more important for some people to live out their days being destructive with exclusion and judgments and to use something like an infant loss support group to basically in their own words tell people: No, your loss isn't as good as these other people's so you don't need help. Go do it on your own.

I'm sure the facilitator is not aware of herself enough to understand that what she is doing is destructive and harmful but needless to say I will be going through this alone. Again.

I just hope that this time I can work through the loneliness to come out healthier on the other side as it's apparent to me that the rest of the world still has no interest in allowing me into their inner circles. No matter what the "similarity" factors may be. 

Redefining Acceptance

Acceptance has always been hard for me. I think it's natural, as a human being for acceptance to be difficult. I see this in many different situations and scenarios and many different people. Most people have heard of the five stages of grief or the five stages of acceptance.

I'm finding out that accepting the loss of Sunflower means much more than simply accepting that she is no longer with me and that she never will be in this lifetime. Accepting losing her means that I have to learn how to accept myself with the part of her that I am missing.

She was very much a part of me. She is very much a part of me. She was a part of me in the way that all children are part of their parents. Both biologically and spiritually. She was a part of me in that she lived - she was alive - inside of me for nine whole months. That's not something neither my mind or body can deny.

Sunflower still is very much a part of me. She lives in my heart. The memories I have of her kicking my stomach or fluttering around inside of me are part me. The way that I got to know her as a person as she grew and my belly swelled is part of me.

Sunflower is and always will be a part of me. 

In accepting that she is physically gone and that she is not here sharing life with me I have the realization that accepting my loss means accepting myself the way that the loss changed me. Yes, I am still the very same person in many ways that I was before I even knew her and then lost her. I am an individual. I am Summer. I am still Summer.

But losing her meant losing part of myself. A part that I will never get back in this lifetime. Losing her meant that I lost some innocence. I learned that sometimes bad things happen to people for no logical reason. Losing her meant that even though I am not sad all of the time anymore, that I can become sad at sudden memories. Losing her means that even though I am the same me, I have changed and my philosophy of what it means to be alive has changed.

This is the part of me that I am finding difficult to accept. This is the part of acceptance that has been difficult for me to grasp all of these years. Accepting that losing my daughter has changed me and that the changes that occurred within me do not mean that I don't love her or miss her or feel any differently than I ever did, is the part of acceptance that I've struggled with.

I will always be myself. I will always be the same person since I was created. But the experience of losing Sunflower has also changed me in ways that I can never go back to before I lost her.

Accepting the loss of my daughter means accepting myself now in this moment. Accepting myself now, as a changed human from my experiences does not mean that I deny the experience. Accepting myself means accepting that life experiences change me and that it's a very common phenomenon in all living things.

We are made the same, we change, we adapt. That is life and even though the grief tricks me into thinking otherwise, I am not alone.

~s.h.

I Can't Go Without Saying It

Like many of you I was hit hard by the news of Robin Williams' death yesterday. It was unexpected and shocking and then so very sad.

I never really get attached to celebrities. Not the way others do. I don't get crushes on them, I don't care about their personal lives or who's dating who. I don't pay that much attention other than viewing their work to relieve myself from the burdens of my life for a while.

A lot of different emotions came up for me yesterday. And it was confusing. 

At first I was in shock. Then I was sad. But the most confusing part were the memories and then the "aha" moment that this brought up.

When the movie, Dead Poets Society first came out, I remember watching it with my dad. I loved that movie. I wasn't very old when it came out but I was intelligent enough to mostly understand.

I was heavily involved in music in high school. Someone had put the poem, O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman to music, not uncommon for a well-known poem to be put together in choral format. At the same time, I was taking a high school English class. We happened to be studying this poem and poet at the time we were rehearsing the music.

My English teacher wasn't like Mr. Keating. But he had a sense of humor. He was also the football coach and he knew one of his football players was in my class. My English teacher seemed to make it his mission to embarrass his students, especially the football players.

Knowing it would embarrass this particular student, he told him to stand on his desk and sing, O Captain! My Captain! for the class. I guess the football player had an image to uphold because he refused to do it. But I raised my hand and said, "I will!"

So, to the bewilderment of my English teacher and the rest of the class, I climbed on top of my desk and sang one of the verses from the poem/music we were learning in choir.

This memory haunted me all evening. And my thoughts swirled as another memory came to mind.

I remembered when I was up in Glacier National Park one summer when I was in high school. They had most of the Going-To-The-Sun road closed off and there were rumors that it was because they were shooting a movie up there.

I immediately found out which movie it was because I had to see it. I found out the movie they were shooting  was What Dreams May Come. I didn't know what the movie was about but I knew Robin Williams was in it so I went to see it. I adored his character, risking his own eternal happiness in the depths of hell to save his suffering, lost wife.

To this day, Dead Poets Society and What Dreams May Come are two of my favorite movies. I could list at least half a dozen other movies that he was in where the message or the theme of the movie made me think. He really had a talent as an actor.

But I don't normally confuse actors and their roles. I don't normally confuse real life for fantasy. All of this going through my head yesterday kept me thinking and I wondered, Would it had made any difference if he had known just how much of an impact he had on my life?

I have been in the deepest despair before. I have felt the excruciating, intense pain that if I just slipped off of this earth, no one would even know that I was gone. That's what depression does to humans. It morphs all the good we have going for us into a jumbled ball of nothing-not-caring-blah.

But as much as I wonder if the knowledge that someone had been listening, someone had been paying attention to his uncanny ability to be characters who changed real people's lives, I do realize that sometimes things happen that we can't explain. 

So after sorting out all of these thoughts and memories and emotions yesterday, I realized that what I need to do is remember to actively and vocally appreciate people who do give me the type of gold that Mr. Williams gave me. 

It might not make a difference. But you never know. Sometimes in our suffering, the best remedy is the acknowledgement that there is someone, one person, who sees us for the lights that we truly are. 

~ s.h.

Home

Sunlight beams down through the crannies of the towering lodge pole pines and western cedars. Crisp, clean air fills my lungs and a slight breeze sends my senses sailing on a journey across time, through space, and higher than earth.

My body relaxes as the freshness of the pine-scented air fill my nostrils all the way down to my toes. In the quiet I hear the song of a bird, a chipmunk chattering, and the steady rush of water rolling and flowing soft, over smooth stones.

Here is my sanctuary.

In the safety of the trees.

Time stops. I’m swirling. I’m still.

A soft rustle of the breeze between the flora causes me to turn my head. I notice a soft texture of red standing out between all of the green hues. I recognize the flower as an Indian paintbrush. Its rose colored petals point up towards the sun that feeds its rouge tones, the soft, hair-like textures of its petals...

I do not disturb it. Only do I enjoy its beauty in the light of the morning rays beaming through the hundred foot tall trees. 

The earth here is protected. Everything is sacred. And I am home, in the forest, my sanctuary.

~s.h.

I'm Challenging You...

I'd like to challenge you on something.

We all have our opinions on issues. Many of us are even very outspoken.  We all have gained knowledge and insight from our parents, the people who raised us, our teachers, and our experiences.

But what if everything you thought you knew wasn't necessarily wrong but maybe it wasn't the only know?

What if how you do or say something isn't the only way to do or say it?

What if your experiences are vastly different from someone else's experiences?

And best of all, what if you could learn from someone who had experiences you couldn't even imagine in your dreams or worst nightmares?

It might not be comfortable, at least not at first. You might actually have to listen to someone. You might actually have to be willing to be wrong for once in your life. You might actually have to let your guard down and release the white-knuckle grip you have on it...

It might not be easy. Not at first. 

I've lived my whole life not doing things the way that others think I should. I've lived my whole life being judged and personally attacked for not doing things the way that others think I should.

Do I do this on purpose? Am I just a rebel without a cause?  

You might think that but the truth about me is that I've always been different. I was born different.  I've had experiences that many people are lucky enough not to have had. I've been through things a lot of you can only recognize as your worst nightmares.

I'm also a minority of the population by genetics. 

Believe me, I get it. I understand what it's like to be human. I understand what it's like to not only be human but to be opinionated and outspoken. There is nothing wrong with stating your opinion. There is nothing wrong with being loud about who you are and what you believe. I actually admire that both in myself and in others.

But sometimes, I notice, the same issues go around and around and we keep having the same conversations. The people may change, the voices may change, but there are certain issues that I've noticed where the dialogue continuously and consistently stays the same.

I just have to wonder about these conversations because if you asked those involved they would tell you they are working for change. And that's totally fine and valid and I love that people are working towards change but I have to wonder how they expect change out of spouting the same rehearsed lines over and over again.

What do you normally do if you want to lose weight? Do you continue eating McDonald's day after day and sitting on the couch? You could try it. But I'm willing to bet that you won't get the desired results.  No, to get your desired results, you cut calories, start eating more fruits and veggies, start walking for 30 minutes per day...And once you've formed these habits for a while, you will see results in losing weight.

I believe it's the same with conversations, with controversial or political issues. The way that you change something is by being creative. It's by doing what you haven't already tried. And you persevere. You keep trying and trying new and different things until one day, you've found the words that no longer separate humans into sides but acknowledge and validate each other as one of the same in this race we call human.

There Are No Weeds

I read this article a few days ago about how HSPs sometimes feel like weeds HSP Health: A Plant In The Right Place. 

It's true. I've spent most of my life feeling like a weed, a bother, a weirdo, an inconvenience for everyone else.

As I read this article, I began thinking about how sad it is that I've lived the majority of my life feeling like this. For what?  For only being the best I can be, being myself. As I've been discovering about my highly sensitive traits and what that means for my life and how it makes me different than others, I've realized that I feel like a weed because in general, that is how most of the world has treated me for most of my life.

I see this happening with my children too. For example, in their karate class (this is the last time I'll bring this up, I promise), their instructor seems okay at first. He's friendly, makes some good points about parenting and child growth and development. But somewhere along the way I see through his facade. I see that my awareness exceeds his teaching abilities.

It's the way that he told not only me and my children what he thinks of us and my parenting, but the whole entire class of both students and parents; how he never fails to mention and publicly praise what I call the "easy" children.  The ones who are in his eyes, perfect. The ones who he claims "work hard" and are "respectful".  Maybe to him. But that's not what I see.

I see these"easy" children as the kids that make the karate instructor's life and work easier. They make him look good because they conform to him without any questions asked. I don't know about you, but that's not the way that I want to raise my children. Questions should be asked until I feel like I'm going to pull my hair out and then some.

But in all honesty, how many of us have  or have had "relationships" like that? Where the people around you aren't really the people you truly like, they just make you look good.  My kids aren't bad kids but I have trouble not resenting the karate instructor (my issue, I know) for dismissing people only because they are different. Only because for whatever reason they don't do things the way that others do them.

The amount of times this has happened to me and now my children are too great to count. That's what most people do in this world and I'm not a fan of it. But it is the reason why that some people grow up through life thinking that they are weeds.  When your teachers, parents, and any adult who you are supposed to look up to for guidance on life treat you like you're "wrong" or "bad", that is the message that you deeply ingrain into your core being. That you are "wrong" or you are "bad".

But what if people who were different from us weren't actually the problem?  What if the problem was that we grew up thinking life was to be lived only one way?  

The next time someone scares you, offends you, upsets you, does something you simply do not understand, take a moment and really think about your next move. Are you going to start hating simply because you don't understand and are afraid? Or are you going to explore your strong emotions and have some consideration for someone living his or her life the best that he or she can?

Redefining Evolution

One thing that has been on my mind is the evolution debate. I don't even understand why this is a debate.  I'm going to try to debunk the myth if you'll allow me write the truth for you.

First of all, there is no "believing in" evolution. It's not really something to believe in. I guess you could have faith in it but let me try to start from the beginning for you.

Evolution simply means: the ability to adapt to changing environments.

I don't see how this is arguable since we have more than a lot of evidence or maybe I should say history that this has happened over the years. Let's take the "biology" or "science" part out of it for a minute. Maybe that will make it easier to understand.

I like to think of evolution in technological terms.  I think in this day and age with smartphones and computers, and the internet, it makes something like evolution a bit easier to understand.

For example, a very long time ago when humans first began creating civilizations, there weren't very many of them in large spaces and so their communities and the area of their towns were so small that it was easy to walk the length of them.  As the population began to grow (with more people being born), the space between the lengths of the town would grow too (more houses, shops, buildings, roads etc.) so people thought to themselves, "I wonder how I could make this easier and not have to walk so far each day."  

They got creative and began riding horses.  Soon, the distances were even larger, there were more people and more buildings and roads and someone thought, "Wouldn't it be swell if we could roll on wheels while the horse pulled us?"  And so the horse and carriage was born.

The horse and carriage proved to be bumpy and riding behind a horse wasn't the most ideal thing in the world, so someone thought, "What if we could power some wheels without the use of a horse?"

And so the very first automobile was invented using the knowledge from other moving vehicles like trains, humans began to realize their power to adapt to their changing environments. They began to use the human power of creativity to make their lives easier.

This is evolution. This is adapting to changing environments.  We are still doing it.

Take phones.  First there were radios, which were nice but could only reach certain distances, then there were phones with wires and lines but you had to stay within a 10 foot radius (phone cords).  Then the car phone. But only in your car or at home or at the office.

Then mobile phones.  And then with the internet came not only mobile phones but a whole mobile computer right in your purse or pocket.

All evolution. All adapting to changing environments.  All growing and changing and stretching of the human mind to better the lives of humans. All evolution.

I hope this gives you "non-believers" in evolution something to think about the next time you disagree so harshly with it. Like I said before it's not really something you believe in. Saying that, I do believe in the power of the human mind. I do believe in the power of creativity and I do have faith that we're all capable of growing and changing ourselves for the better.

But it is a choice.  So believing evolution is a lie or a myth is ultimately a choice but it's also going against reality if you look  not only at science but at history as well.

The Vortex

I've been getting sucked into this vortex of oblivion.

It started shortly after my daughter passed away. I've never had much personal support in my life. I've been very independent and self-sufficient at a very young age. I've learned at an early age that the most reliable person is me. And still, I've ventured to find someone, anyone to give me some human support outside of my own head.

In late 2005, I discovered a website for mothers who had lost children. There were message boards where you could go and talk about only the things that other parents of loss know.  The site was created by a mother who had endured multiple losses and had written a book on it. 

I'd never paid much attention to the internet, message boards, social sites, and texting before I found this site. Cautiously, and very slowly I began to pour my heart out about the details of my loss and the intense emotional scars that came with it.

At first, I'd lurk. I'd read everyone's posts and internalize how I related with it or how I wasn't there yet and didn't understand that part of grieving my child yet. But then I began to carefully comment on mother's posts only if I had something encouraging and something I felt was worthy of saying.

Soon, I was on the site every day. I had even made some personal connections who would privately email me.  

I loved knowing that I wasn't alone. I love feeling connected to someone by something even though the situation wasn't ideal. I loved the interactions that got me out of my own head.

This is how I started out on the internet.  And not much has changed in what I want and what I look for. But the internet is not safe and it's not where I want to spend my time. (I'd much prefer real life interactions, face to face than behind a screen with people who use aliases and people who lie and bend the truth.)

I've felt like this for a while, I've just never put it into words until now. And now, years and many "social media" sites later, I feel like the internet is contributing to me living a lie. I've known for a while that it's not going to be a good place for me to connect with others. Not the way that I want to...And I feel like I'm sucked into this vortex that keeps whirling me around, threatening to spit me out but keeping me stuck from reality. Stuck from the truth.

For some reason I hate to leave.  Considering my history with internet, I don't know why that would be a problem but for some reason it is. I've worn myself down into the ground in my real, offline life trying to find and get the support I need - that I believe all humans need - but the problem is me.

My sensitivities, the way that I was born, the choices I've made, the things that are priorities to me, are never going to fit into this world. I guess the only thing left for me to do is accept that no one is ever going to want to be that for me. Maybe that's okay. Maybe I'm independent enough and self-sufficient enough to survive on my own without another.

I know I am.  I just don't want to.

But I am going to work really hard at accepting that my differences are too much for others to handle. That my differences aren't wanted and that I will always be an independent human.  I will work on it but it's going to take time. And maybe false distractions like the forces of internet oblivion I need to let go.

~s.h.

I Do The Best I Can...

I was sitting in the bleachers at my boys' karate class today. My five year old really needs some support in the areas of focusing, paying attention, and following directions.  (Why he's in karate...)  He wasn't following directions, which isn't the first time this has happened in karate class. 

But what the instructor did, I thought crossed the line. The instructor told my son to come sit with me. That's fine. We've been through this before and I knew that I was going to have to tell my son what he did wrong, why, and how to fix it. It's part of the karate respect.  I don't have a problem with that.

But the instructor tells my son to ask me what the capital of Alabama is.  I couldn't think and I could.  A million thoughts were swirling through my mind including, I wonder if he really wants me to tell my son what the capital of Alabama is...  I was surprised and taken off guard. I couldn't think of the capital of Alabama. I couldn't think.  

I don't know if this is an HSP thing or just a me thing but I wasn't prepared for something as pointless as this.

I can do my mom job just fine. I was prepared to do so. But I felt that this was a lower blow. This was the instructor telling not only me, but everyone in the class, every parent that I was a bad mother and I was raising a bad kid. I obviously didn't know how to do my job right so he was going to try to do it for me.

Maybe it's because I've already been in a more-than vulnerable state for the past month or maybe because I'm just insecure and care what everyone thinks all the time. Maybe I'm a horrible person for that. Whatever. Make your judgments.

But that's just it. The judgments.  I felt like people were judging me. And maybe I do care too much what others think. Maybe you all are actually right when you say that and use it as an excuse to not go there with me. Maybe you were accidentally correct for once.

But why do you think someone like me (who gets judged just for simply existing) would try so hard to keep and maintain an image of perfection?  Think about it. I know you can come up with something intelligent that doesn't blame me.

I hate this whole situation because I feel like it puts me out of my element once again and I am being falsely judged for something that isn't truth. How many times..? If I had a dollar for every time that happened, you people would make me the richest person on the planet.

I hate myself because, yes. This is the ego realm. And yes, I hate the ego realm. And yes I am a hypocrite. And yes, I hate people who don't say what they mean and mean what they say...

I'm hurting. And I felt this whole thing could have been handled better. I felt I could have said something but I'm in such a fog that it was a double inconsideration towards me.

I do the best I can as a mom, but I can't control other people. My son needs to learn discipline on his own. I can't hold his hand every second of every day in public school.  I could try. But would that really help him?  And I guess I'm stupid because I couldn't think of the capital of Alabama out of context like that.

Stupid breeds stupid, I guess. Right?

Worn Down and Feeling Hopeless

Deep breath…I don’t even know where to start. It’s not that I have a bad life. Or that I don’t appreciate what I do have…It’s true I’ve had a hard life up until this point.  Probably more difficult than most people around my age. I don’t feel sorry for myself that things, life has happened to me. But sometimes I get sick of being in the presence of people who don’t get me. Who don’t even take the time to get me. Not that there’s anything to get.

But I do spend a majority of the time feeling judged.  I guess that could be my own insecurities. 

But I’m a people reader. I get people. I understand that dynamics of relationships. I understand the dynamics between heart and head and head and self. I pick up on minutia that most people pass right by.  I understand what’s going on. I don’t miss much.

The one thing I want more than anything in the world is connection with others. Not just connection on the acquaintance type basis. A real, genuine, deep connection where I’m giving out as much as I’m receiving. I’ve spent the past year searching for that. I’ve spent my energies and hard efforts on that and I feel I’ve come up empty once again.

I’ve made connections, sure. But most in the way of people misunderstanding me and judging me. I know. I don’t need these people in my life. But it takes a lot out of me to put forth all of the vulnerability only to come up and find assholes once again. Where are my people? Do people simply live side by side, parallel lives, never connecting with one another in deep sincerity?

I’ve worn myself out past my limit.  My priorities seem different than the priorities of the majority of people I’ve met. I feel hopeless because I know I can’t control other people’s desire to want to know me the way my soul burns to know them.

I don’t want that control. But I realize that’s why I feel hopeless. 

The paradox is that this is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted in life. I don’t want to be rich or powerful or popular. I just desire at least one person who wants to meet me where I’m at.

The thought has crossed my mind that I’m selfish. The thought has crossed my mind that I’m everything I hate. Maybe I’m an arrogant, judging, narcissist. Maybe that’s the reason…Maybe I’m not loving enough…It still feels hopeless. 

I’m sick of being so fragile.  My emotions are a never-ending roller coaster, my emotional pain tolerance sometimes bearable, other times, a sudden and abrupt shot to the heart.

Somehow I’ve made different choices than most. Somehow my desire to show up and be genuine and live in this awkward awakened state is a choice unlike others’ choices. My priorities are different. My choices prove that.

Being so human, I know that I am, I sometimes feel like such an alien for choosing this. But I can’t go back to the zombie-like state. I won’t. All of my deepest sufferings have been caused by my naïve unawareness.

If I could just find that connection…That one person who I don’t have to explain myself to, who accepts me and gets me…

Maybe it’s just supposed to be me. Maybe I’m all I need but it’s a sad day for me when I can’t connect with other humans. I feel lost. I believe my entire purpose is to connect with others, to lift them up when they are down, to guide their lights when they are lost, and to have someone do that for me in return.

This is what we’re here for. But I can’t control if others don’t want that from me. I can’t control if I’m right or wrong or too alien…

Light Power

Despair set in with the clouds covering the sun,

Withholding the radiant warmth for each one

All beings, all creation were drooping in pain

From the constant shadows, the cold, and the rain

When would the fog lift and give some relief

To the poor, tired, osteomalacious creatures in grief?

Cursing the heavens and stars up above

The beings all shouted and spited cloud-love,

“We’re dying, we’re sick, our bones are turning to dust!

We beg to be free of this darkness!  We must!”

But the one star in the sky responsible for

Sustaining the life of the creatures evermore

Replied with a muffled, cloud-covered tone,

“I am sick. You must fetch her. I’m dying alone.”

Confusion and chaos spread through the nation

The life warming force had a nauseous sensation?

Through the panic rode a mysterious dark knight

“Stop and think,” he ordered, “We will endure this plight.

We will find the sun’s cure, if it’s the last thing we do.

Our children’s futures depend on us. We must pull through!”

And with that he was off on his galloping steed

And the beings stood still, all taking heed

The dark knight, he rode on for days without end

Tiring his poor horse, for the earth he would mend

One night while he shivered in the cold on a log

It was there that he saw her, like a spark in the fog

A lost-looking being with scared, wide open eyes,

Long golden hair, fluid movements clearing fog in the skies

A yellow-white aura surrounded  her whole

The knight took in a breath as he peered through her soul

A creature of beauty, grace, and of glow,

She captured his heart, as his world began to slow

As she drew nearer, he shifted his gaze

And in that one instant he saw her sun rays

He had stumbled upon her, this was the one!

She was the savior of the poor sickly sun

“Come.” He said as he gathered her up

And gave her the sustenance from within his cup

“Do you know the sun? She’s not well, needs your light.”

The wide eyed young maiden nodded, “Alright…”

“You must go,” He insisted to her “and heal this ill,

All creatures depend on you, or death will be real.”

“The darkness has come for me,” the radiant one explained

“It took pieces of me and my light is now drained.”

Astonished, the knight took one look at her aura,

And then at the trail where her light greened the flora

“Your light is still with you, it surrounds your whole being,

Your movement lifted the fog, and a bright light I’m seeing.”

The glow of her aura began to burn brighter,

A smile crossed her face as her soul elevated higher,

And higher, up through the darkness and clouds

Up towards the sun, she flew clearing fog shrouds

As she drew nearer the sun, she felt her brokenness heal

And she looked down on the land at the beings now well

With one lightning bolt zap, the sun’s brightness revealed

And the earth and its creatures she had forever healed

The dark knight he smiled as he rode on through the green

The light-being not only had cleared the shadowy scene

She had opened his heart to light’s loving ways

Never again would he doubt the power of the sun’s rays.

© Summer H

My Priorities

I began loving the idea of social media and the internet when it first became available because I've never really had to opportunity to know what it's like to get the kind of love, acceptance, and support that the rest of the world does with my offline, "real life" family and friends.

Being an HSP/Empath is not being a real person to many people and the expectations are that I should just be non-highly sensitive and non-empathic. I guess these are valid expectations for the closed minded. But there are just some things that a person can't change about themselves.

I wouldn't want to change for anyone else if I could. It's not fair to even ask me to change. I know I have high expectations and I'm extremely passionate about growth and learning not only for myself but for others.  But I believe the disconnect is when others expect me to lower my standards to meet them where they are.

If I were to lower my standards to meet most people where they are or to be like most people, I would have to be more callous. I would have to be more uncaring. Being more callous and more uncaring and more unfeeling would be growing the wrong direction for me. If you can even call that growth... 

If others were to try to meet me where I am, they would learn to be more loving, they would learn to be more open.  Learning to be true and to love seems to me more like the direction a person would want to grow...

Psychologists have been finding out in their research that connection with others is very much needed for not only human survival, but for thriving. But I can't control what others want and how they want to interact with me. I wouldn't want to control it.

I had originally joined social media sites to find some others who maybe were capable of more than the people I knew around me.  But the people who love quieting truth speakers, and love quieting kindness took over the internet just like they do with everything else and I'm not too thrilled with the internet and social media now.

To me, it looks like one big ego feeding contest.  As an HSP/Empath, I don't enjoy living in the ego realm. I don't enjoy others who enjoy living in the ego realm. 

As much fun as it may seem to have your ego stroked, begging for approval and gambling away self dignity says a lot about a person. It says that they have little to no self-respect. It says that they have such low self-esteem, that they desperately seek the constant approval of others.  I imagine they always come out feeling empty too... 

This is the online world now. We've somehow morphed the absolute worst human qualities into mass sharing and as a whole given the message that these are our priorities as humans.  This is what you do to be one of us.

Maybe I'm here by divine mistake - It could happen!  Or maybe I'm from a different planet or from the future or the past...

It's isolating knowing that I continue to try with family and friends and the people I know offline and I continue to try with the people I've met online, never receiving the connection I desire. But it's become increasingly obvious that no one is interested in being authentic and no one is interested in authentic connections.  No one seems to have the life priorities I do.

I would ask you where you would go and what you would do to find the connection you needed if you were me but I realize that true, authentic connection is not very important to most of you.