Seat at the Table

There has been much discussion with my therapist on just where my seat at the table would be.

In fact, which table do I even sit at?

Wait, do I even have a table?

Where's my table?

Will my seat still be available at my table?

I've been asked not to return to certain tables.

I actually find gratitude in that request(s).

One of my feelings/emotions/thoughts on Tuesday night was that I had a seat at a table again.

I expressed that to T with joy.

I know that I have a seat at the Robb table.

I know that I have a seat at T's table.

I know for dang sure that I have a seat at my own table, in my home, with my children.

But, so many questions about tables in my mind.

Then, this.

This picture came to me.

This is God's table.

This table winds endlessly.

There is a seat for everyone at that table.

Everyone who chooses to be there has a seat at this table.

And isn't it beautiful?

Peaceful?

Glorious.

With a seat for everyone.

Everyone.

Someone Like Her

So, continuing on from my family blog...

Last night I said, "YESSSSS!!!"

Not to my upteenth marriage proposal, People.

To a Church calling.

I said "YES" before the Bishop even told me what the calling was!

And there is so much I have to say about it!

So, I start from the beginning.

The bishop and I met last night.

We meet somewhat frequently.

Our relationship has evolved.

For that, I am grateful.

After talking and counseling, he asked me if I would accept a calling in the ward.

I put my hands together and said, "YESSSSS!"

Then he asked if I wanted to know what the calling was...

Okay, fine.

It's still a "YESSSSS!"

My thoughts in that moment were:

I have a seat at the table.

I belong.

I have a place here.

My feelings were:

Joy.

Excitement.

Joy.

A lot of joy.

Then my thought was:

I have to call T!

I can't wait to tell T!
I cannot wait to tell my boys!

My boys will be in Sandy this weekend for Halloween.

I want them with me on Sunday when I am sustained and set apart.

I can't wait to ask them to be home early to be there with me.

Oh, can we just be done here??
I can't wait to share my JOY!

Then, the bishop asked me if I was still communicating with my T.

Of course I am.

Daily.

Then, he told me this story:

He is currently working with a male in the ward with similar issues as mine (addiction, etc.)

He told me that this male doesn't have a T.

He doesn't have anyone to be his "sponsor."

He told me that his heart breaks as he meets with him because he just doesn't know if he can make it through this difficult road without a T.

Then my heart broke, as it about burst with gratitude for my T.

I talk about my T.

But, no one (not even I) realize what it's like to be T.

T is married with four children.

She works from home and raises and rears her own children.

She has a very busy Church calling.

And yet, so much of her time and energy is spent walking beside me and at times carrying me over her shoulder, through this very, very hard journey.

It's true, though.

I, too, worry about this male who remained nameless.

I, too, worry that the loneliness, the abuse, the neglect, the depression... whatever it is that pushed him into addiction... will be too strong of a hold on him without a T.

The bishop told me of training he went through last week.

It was about addiction.

What causes addiction?

Why addiction?

And what he shared with me was on point.

Then, I shared with him this:

Last weekend I was LONELY.

All alone and LONELY.

Two choices:

Addiction: call, text, run to someone long enough to not feel

Heidi 2.0: sit with it. Just be lonely. Just let it be. 

I chose 2.0.

And, then I told T that I chose 2.0.

And she celebrated with me as if it brought HER joy.

When I left the bishop's office last night, I called her first thing.

On video chat, of course.

I literally was so full of excitement and joy.

Her children were all around, busy and tired and hungry.

She was tired and busy and hungry, I'm sure.

But, she took those moments to share in my joy and my excitement.

Then, she took more time after we hung up to send me messages that she was proud of me.

My heart breaks for those who don't have a T.

My heart explodes that I have mine.

Today, I Write

Today, my mind is all aghast with thoughts and feelings.

Memories and emotions.

Conflicting wars that seem endless.

And I'm not running. 

I am sitting.

Front row.

Experiencing all of it.

Feeling the feelings, but not becoming the emotion.

Witnessing it. Allowing it. Releasing it.

Like balloons that weigh me down until I untie them from my wrist and let them go.

Some balloons must be released more than once... in fact over and over.

And that is okay.

Today, and every day, I practice being strong.

Today, I don't let that extra five pounds on the scale weigh me down.

I forgive myself for eating a little extra bread and ice cream.

I motivate myself to stop.

I congratulate myself for not feeling guilt when laying in my bed at 6 pm, resting from the days feelings and emotions.

I remind myself that cognitive and emotional fatigue are non-negotiable... dissimilar to physical fatigue.

Today, I look ahead to holidays.

Katryna and I discussed the upcoming holidays last week during our appointment.

They will look very different this year for me.

So, I plan and I prepare for what that picture paints.

Today, I recognize that loneliness is a real emotion.

It is thoughts that turn into emotion, then feelings.

These have always mathematically added up to returning to toxic relationships (not always romantic, by the way).

Loneliness cumulatively meant running.

Being alone with my thoughts this weekend was a real story problem.

I never was good at story problems.

I never quite understood why we had to discover how many apples a corn farmer had after harvesting wheat.

Now, I discover real story problems in my own thoughts when being alone with myself, in my head...

I discover that I don't need to run, but sometimes want to, but don't, and thus feel proud, yet drained and exhausted from solving such stories... always in my head.

Similar to trying to understand why a corn farmer would be harvesting wheat and how apples came to be on such a farm anyways.

And I think about how sometimes I am not brave.

Some days I depend on others - Miss Birdie, T...

To remind me that I'm doing just fine.

Being brave and being strong are not always the same two things...

Like corn and wheat are not the same thing...

So, again... why am I trying to figure out how many apples on a corn farm after wheat is harvested?

Today, I practice self care by forgiving myself for being at work in my pajamas;

By being kind to myself after stepping on the scale and noticing a weight increase.

By surrounding myself with people who are actually rooting for my rise.

By hugging my boys tightly.

Warrior Mode

Ryan sent me a bunch of pictures last week.

Looking at them brings a lot of feelings and emotions.

Four kids in four years isn't for the faint of heart.

Four kids with health issues REALLY isn't for the faint of heart.

I did it on my own for the most part.

Yes, I had family help. 

For the most part, I was on auto-pilot.

Again, I wasn't feeling feelings or emotions.

I didn't know how.

When my kids were sick or in the hospital, or when I was changing four kids diapers at the same time daily, I was on auto-pilot.

I advocated for them in the best ways I could.

The best ways I knew how.

Kaydon had a hospice nurse, who came in twice a week.

She was a God-send.

She would love on ALL of the boys so I could run to the grocery store, or take a bath or just sit in the bathroom and cry for an hour.

I had amazing visiting teachers/life-long friends, who would help me to escape to Cafe Rio for an hour.

Warrior Mode almost always has a drop-off point. 

I hit mine repeatedly.

And then I REALLY hit it.

Back to doing my best now...

Things Break

"This was my hallway last Wednesday.

Broken. Sharp. Treacherous.

This was my hallway.

It was my son who did this.

Sometimes, often really, things break - irreparably. And it takes your breath away ... straight away.

It took my breath away when my son stormed into the bathroom, frustrated, angry, fed-up for his very own, very significant to him, reasons. And when he chose to SLAM the bathroom door, causing the heavy mirror mounted to the front to slip out of the hardware holding it in place and crash onto the floor - a million, BROKEN pieces were left reflecting the afternoon light.

I was quiet. I surveyed the damage and took a deep breath. Put the dog outside so he wouldn't cut his feet, put the cat in the basement for the same reason.

I walked into the backyard and felt the hot tears streaming down my face. It's amazing how alone you can feel as a single parent in moments like these. I realized how scared and disappointed I felt. Did this really just happen? Yes. This was real.

And as I stood and considered whether or not this was an indication of his developing character, I heard his tears through the window above me, coming from inside the bathroom.

His soul hurt. This was not what he expected either. Hello, Anger - I don't remember inviting you into my house.

Scary.

Terrified.

Ashamed.

Worried.

Scared.

Deep breath, #MamaWarrior. Deep breath. That small, fragile soul needs you right now. He needs your very best. Your biggest compassion. Your most gentle and firm mama love and reassurance. More deep breaths. Go Mama.

Go. Go now. Go open the front door, tiptoe through the broken glass, hear him hearing you coming, watch the bathroom door crack open, see the face you love most in the world red with worry and wet with tears, his voice is suddenly so small: "Mama, I'll never do it again, I am SO sorry." More tears. More weeping. Such uncertainty on his sweet face.

Go Mama. Get him. Go now. Scoop him into your lap. Yup, you're crying too. Damn this was big. Hold him tight. Watch how he curls into a ball in your arms so quickly. See how eager he is to be loved by you. To be reassured by you. See how small he still is. See how fragile that spirit is.

I love you.

You are safe.

I am right here.

The worst part is over now.

I've got you.

I'm here.

I love you.

Go Mama. Tell him about Anger. Tell him now. Anger is a really powerful feeling. You have a right to your Anger. Anger burns hot. It can purify. It can also destroy. He nods. He feels it. He's met Anger now.

There's a better way to show your big feelings.

We'll work on it together .... tomorrow.

I'm here to help you.

You are safe.

You are never alone in your anger.

You are never alone in your fears.

I'm here. We're here together.

Now we will clean together.

And we cleaned up the broken pieces. We swept and we vacuumed. It was quiet work. It was careful work. It was thoughtful work.

Sometimes things break. Sometimes we break them. It's not the breaking that matters, the how or why. What matters is how we choose to respond to the broken-ness. Does it kill us? Does it throw us into a downward spiral of blame and punishment?

OR

Does it help us remember how to love deepest? Does it push us towards compassion and over the hurdle of "rightness" and "wrongness" into LOVENESS?

Yes. LOVENESS.

Go Mama. Go now. Get that baby of yours. Teach that. Show that. Live that. It's called LOVENESS. Go. Now."

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#LoveWhatMatters

Submitted by Kathleen Fleming & Majestic Unicorn

Lovingly Direct

For real. For real.

Counseling on Wednesday was good.

It's been a couple of weeks since I've seen her.

We were scheduled to see each other every other week, then on my appointment week I got strep throat.

It was good to be back and get caught up on things.

So much to talk about. 

Katryna had me start reading a book a few months ago.

I jumped right in and was reading it and taking notes.

And then it got to a point in the book, and in counseling, where that book was so full of triggers for me that I could only read a paragraph at a time.

It was rough!
She asked me about it on Wednesday.

I explained that it was a trigger book for me and that someday I would finish it, but it wasn't going to be today!

She asked me how twelve step group was going.

I told her I hadn't been in three weeks because I was dashing on Sunday nights.

She really didn't have to say anything because her face said it ALL, but she sure as heck still said, "That's a priority and you need to get back."

T has been telling me the same thing.

Both of them are right, and I look forward to going on Sunday.

After counseling, I always message T.

If I don't message her, she messages me right away.

I told her on Wednesday that she and Katryna are basically the same person.

Lovingly direct.

To the point.

"Don't be offended, but..."

That kind of direct.

I am so blessed to have both of them!

Back to 12-step:

Sometimes as addicts, or really anyone who is struggling with mental illness, addiction, character flaws, health issues, etc.

We get to a point where we are comfortable.

We get to a point where we feel that we are in a good place.

We get to a point where we feel confident in where we are and what we are doing.

Katryna reminded me that I have done nothing, NOTHING to show a relapse of any kind.

Nothing.

However, she said, it is important (imperative, really) that we keep doing what we are doing and what we were doing to get to this point.

She said that as we stop doing these important things: taking our medicine, going to counseling, going to group, doing our affirmations, exercising, eating a healthy diet for our health issues, etc., we start to slip and we don't realize that we need to go back to doing those things until we have done something or something has happened to make us realize that we needed those things all along.

We need to stick with it all.

For the long haul.

And keep plugging away.

This Time

Guess what?
Rough freaking couple of weeks!

Guess what?

No relapse of any kind!

Guess what?

I went to my T. I talked to her about what I was feeling - at least what I could describe at the time.

Then I messaged her back later. 

And I told her what I was really feeling.

That girl of mine.

Gosh, Heavenly Father knew I needed her.

Every step of every day of my life.

She sent me a Venmo transfer with these words, "Cancel your dash gig for tonight."

And, I did.

I didn't go to the gym.

I didn't dash.

I didn't clean the carpets like I needed to.

I didn't clean the bathrooms like I needed to.

I didn't organize the storage closet like I needed to.

I started the dishwasher.

I did my laundry.

And, I laid in my bed for the rest of the night until I went to dreamland.

And, that's exactly what I needed to do.

Everything has felt very heavy.

Very overwhelming.

Very scary.

Very anxiety-ridden.

Very sad.

Very hard.

So, I rested this body that is under the weight of hard things right now.

And, that's okay.

Miss Birdie sent me this:

Oh, so much this. 

I never realized this.

All of this.

I'm not depending on getting validation from any other human anymore.

It's no longer needed.

I am enough.

I am healing.

From so many years of hurt and pain and confusion.

I am on the exact trail I should be on in this journey.

I am not rebuilding, but building period.

Learning. Growing. Developing. Budding.

I'm discovering all of the pieces of me, and slowly putting them together in this beautifully imperfect mosaic that is Heidi.

I am being so much kinder to my soul.

My soul that I am getting to know every day.

This beautiful soul that God gifted me with.

This soul that is strong and brave and feisty, yet fragile and delicate.

I am not doing it alone, yet I'm doing it by myself - without the need to have someone else validate it all for me.

I'm checking off each box all by my dang self.

This.