Darkness sometimes can hit without warning. No call, no siren of impending danger, it slithers up and strikes the psyche while infecting your being with it’s lethal venom. While there are varying forms of darkness, it visited me yesterday. It slid up next to me whispering nasty everything’s into my mind. It had more of a revealing quality, yesterday – one of those flavors of darkness that presented it’s side of the truth in it’s twisted and emotionally heavy way, forcing me to stare directly into it’s big, black, darkened eyes. It beckoned me with intensity to confront it. And so I did. We sat on my bed with the lights of the day snuffed out by the hiding of the sun, and took turns tossing the information presented – wrestling, dancing, chiding, and humiliating. It cast accusations at me while I held up…
I’ve spent an unnecessary amount of time looking at social media posts this morning. Every so often I’ll do this. To catch up on the lives of those I know, used to know well, or have recently met. I often don’t enjoy my time on social media – I rarely post on my own. At the end of a perusing session, I feel as if it’s time wasted. Sure, I get to see so and so’s new ugly baby (because all new babies are ugly), or chuckle at a video here or there. But it always leaves me thinking, “Oh that’s cool they went and did this, or that, but I wonder how they really are.” Because while people will make something public, rarely is it as real and raw as we think it to be. And when we post too real or too…
It’s December 31st, 2018. Tomorrow marks the start of the New Year. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I am not one of those types of folks. I often joke that if I did, I’d share a kindred soul to Bridget Jones in this regard, “This year’s New Year’s resolution? Keep New Year’s resolutions.” But there is something in the air this year where my heart longs to make New Year’s resolutions. I likely won’t. I likely won’t stick to them, even if I make them. That, or I’ll make them vague enough that if I fail them, I won’t beat myself up. Or, perhaps I’ll just invoke some old (good) habits I used to do regularly, since I’m finally feeling a tinge of empowerment to do so after what feels…
Nothing can prepare you for this day. Nothing on God’s green earth. October 15th, Monday, around 5:30pm, I had to say goodbye forever to my sweet puppy, Gracie. The shattered soul I am left with is nearly unbearable. The grieving, the ache, the chaos and utter brokenness I feel is consuming. It started a little around 11am. My sweet baby girl, after a full meal with extra added canned yummy dog food, began throwing up. “Huh, that new food did not settle well with her.” I thought. I rubbed her sweet tummy, her back and cleaned up her vomit. She came into the room where I was working from home, and began shaking. I picked her up in my arms and she rested in them, shaking, and I felt her ears, her nose, her tummy. She was warm. I didn’t understand why she was shaking and not…
Ok, so I have been thinking a little more on this self-help addiction thing. I do believe that I have an addiction. I do believe I should cease a lot of meaningless article reading. I don’t believe, however, in ceasing all together personal development! I realized the other day, that I can (and it is good to) still listen to podcasts on my hour+ commute when I have to go into the office. This is a good thing. I am taking otherwise worthless time, and learning and hearing other people’s stories and so forth. So, that stays. I don’t believe I need to google every thought or feeling that comes my way, however. On another note, I am realizing that I am not so far gone in my addiction as I could be. Sure I get the next fix/high off of a…
My very best friend and I talk about having a podcast – I made the comment it should be called, “Welp, fucked that up.” Either that, or a book/memoir. It wouldn’t be something spectacular, but rather a series of events explaining the ways in which we have so often attempted to make things go “right”, or our way, and in looking back have completely fucked up the situation even further. I am here to inform you, that this once again has happened with me. How you might ask? Well… I wouldn’t be writing a post unless I was ready to divulge all the dirty details… So, yesterday was rather a bit of an awakening. And of course, riddled with embarrassment and a hard reckoning. I realized: I am a self-help addict. [gasp] No, but seriously. After blowing almost…
“Experience has taught us that we have only one enduring weapon in our struggle against mental illness: the emotional discovery of the truth about the unique history of our childhood. Is it possible, then, to free ourselves altogether from illusions? History demonstrates that they sneak in everywhere, that every life is full of them-perhaps because the truth often seems unbearable to us. And yet, the truth is so essential that its loss exacts a heavy toll, in the form of grave illness. In order to become whole we must try, in a long process, to discover our own person truth, a truth that may cause pain before giving us a new sphere of freedom. If we choose instead to content ourselves with intellectual ‘wisdom,’ we will remain in the sphere of illusion and self-deception.” [bold emphasis my own] – Alice Miller, The Drama of…
I had this moment a few weeks back. I’m in a restaurant with 3 of my older male colleagues and leaders. We just finished up a day full of meetings and are sitting down for a quick bite at a restaurant. As we were sitting there eating, a girl walks by us. She’s a smaller girl in stature, guessing early to mid 20’s in age, darker skin, and clearly dressed comfortably for the travel day I assume is ahead of her. She was wearing grey yoga pants, black “tennies,” and an undersized white t-shirt, however, her shirt is short, revealing her perfectly toned mid-drift. She chose to not wear a bra that day, as this was evident as she walks past us… very, ahem, “perky” we shall say. I am not bothered that this girl was wearing…
There is a theme in my life. It’s overachieving. Yes, Yes. I know… That sounds arrogant. Especially following my confessed failures in my last post. But it’s true. Sometimes our greatest strength is also our deepest vice. Or in my case – my curse. So, what is overachieving? Glad you asked. Let’s get personal. It’s what it looks like when I have a day off, but I at LEAST have to get the dishes done, or make the bed because I have to achieve something on a day off – no matter how big or small. It’s what it looks like when I work full time, attend grad school full time, and take far too many 5-week, Saturday-only courses (back to back) just to ensure that 4.0 GPA. Which, in turn, made me neglect my family…
From my last post, I apologize. Not for expressing myself, but the rant and anger that I displayed. Don’t get me wrong, all those feelings and emotions were incredibly present, and still 100% are when I reflect back. However, giving in to a lot of those fueled expressions was…potentially distasteful. And for that, I am sorry. But again, it doesn’t mitigate my experience. Not one bit. Those were real emotions pouring from me, real experiences, real heartbreak. That was my absolute reality after the most powerful man in my company, and my direct boss, took it upon himself to violate my body by touching my butt, sexually, multiple times. And as I chose to press forward in the complete dark, I wanted to reflect back to raise awareness to the very real consequences, of not my choices (but also yes, my choices too in…
Sometimes life throws you some deeply unwanted curveballs. An emotional rollercoaster of events in such a concentrated amount of time can change the trajectory of your life as you know it. It’s ok. I had been seeing the change in the distance looming nearer and nearer during the time this all had occurred, I just had no idea it was going to crash up against me the way it did. Let’s go back to a time when I thought I had found myself at pretty much the top of my game in my career. I had secured a great income and had worked my way up in my career over the course of a year that had found me working directly with the CEO and COO of a wildly successful startup company, I was helping them form a leadership team, of which I was a key…
I remember the first time I was honest. Not in the normal, day to day meaning… but the first time I was honest to the point that it cost me… I remember it clear as day. I was 16, in a bathroom stall at my school and I had cheated on 3 high school end of year exams. I had recently found a faith (that I loosely still proscribe to) but back then, it was a new found faith and a set of beliefs that challenged my character deeply. I remember I had been caught cheating on one of the exams – I was humiliated. And after that 3rd exam, I went into this stall to breathe, to cry, to sulk and to gather my devious game plan of how to handle it. I wanted to lie, to blame it on someone, to minimize what I had done…