Easy like Sunday – Finding solid ground

“Humans are pattern-seeking story-telling animals, and we are quite adept at telling stories about patterns, whether they exist or not.”  Michael Shermer

My very first blog post was written on January 1, 2013, on my blog called Gratitude Zone. I picked a beautiful photo I’d taken of a pathway meandering around the lake. I knew that I wanted to focus on gratitude, hence the name. Der, right?

With the benefit of hindsight, I now realize that 2013 was the “year between”. Between what? Let me tell you.

In 2011, my (then) 26 yr. old son (with autism) drove off a cliff. On purpose. There’s a long story surrounding it and now is not the time to revisit it. Also, I feel that the story is mostly his to tell, although as his mother, I have my place in it, too, as all mothers would understand. (And upon second thought, the story is also short: He wanted the pain to stop.) He lived but was never the same. None of us were.

In 2014, I left my long-term sales job, joined the humane society as a cat center manager (my dream job) and within weeks, my oldest daughter went through a divorce and moved in with her dad and her brother. Her sister (my youngest daughter) had her first child, my precious grandson. Their dad, my ex-husband, died of a massive heart attack after coming home mid-afternoon and saying he didn’t feel well. My oldest daughter was then diagnosed with cancer.

I went to California in a tornado of conflicting emotions and ended up staying longer than expected. When the dust settled, several weeks later, I left the humane society job. I was then 55 and unemployed.

That all occurred within ten weeks.

If I’m honest, much of my life has been like this. Crisis + Emotional Upheaval = Self-sabotage. Though, I never seemed to realize it at the time. I make decisions based on feelings… that feel… so real. For instance, there were things going on at the Humane Society that under normal circumstances, I’d have risen above, especially for my dream job. I can see that now. But none of that matters now. Or does it?

What we call chaos is just patterns we haven’t recognized. Chuck PalahniukSurvivor

Huh. Anyway. 2013. The Between. Patterns.

I was searching for gratitude, trying to help myself but knew I’d need help, too… so I reached out to my doctor, therapists, a psychiatrist and even a tarot card reader (though, yes, that was mostly for fun!).

A friend and I were chatting the other day and I was reminded of another job I lost, many, many years ago.

Another diet – among hundreds – I failed.

Another relationship, ended.

Was I (or my choices) the common denominator? Kinda looks that way.

It’s so easy to blame myself. I know I can take it. I’ve taken it all my life.

There’s a whole “thing” about that, too. How I’m bigger than life in some ways and demure in others, wanting appreciation but not public accolades.

How I so desperately want to be seen, heard and accepted… but validation at the expense of vulnerability? No thanks.

And that is why I wrote my first blog for three or four months and then destroyed it. It was too real, like a journal. Too much of myself was seen.

Then, I wrote a second blog, second verse, same as the first. Destroyed it.

Third blog, blah, blah.

Fourth, blah.

Creation. Destruction. In blogs… in life.

Now I’m here.

I like this blog. I think I’m building something kinda neat here. On solid ground. No more floating around alone. I think I’ll stay.

6 comments

  1. Reblogged this on The Self-Help Whisperer® and commented:

    May 5, 2021

    Up for reblogging today is yet another foray into the history of Sheryl.

    With all the work I’ve been doing on trauma, it’s good to delve back into “the why” of it. It’s also good to remember, as I said in yesterday’s post about the new Oprah (and Dr. Perry) book, that trauma is subjective.

    In my case, it’s also cumulative. It began when I was an infant and I have weaved in and out of traumatic experiences since. It is, I’m afraid, the human experience. I wonder how many people say they’ve never suffered a trauma? A little look-see on Google tells me only 30 percent in the US! That means that 70% – 7 out of 10 – the vast majority – of people in the US have had some type of trauma in their lives. That’s a whole WHACK of folks. Interesting, don’t you think?

    Below you will find a post from early February 2018. My how times (haven’t) changed! Or maybe they HAVE! I have, after all, kept this blog. I’m not dead. My daughter is cancer-free. My grandson is doing well. Time is just doing what it does… creeping (or speeding) along.

    Life. Everything feels so vitally important as it’s happening. Some of it is, of course. But some? Not in the least. Nope. Not in the least.

    Like

  2. Um. Hem, hem. Darlin’. It’s pesky li’l ol’ me again… If any of those scenarios at which you “failed” had “succeeded” sufficiently to get you stuck placidly in them for a lifetime, um, out of which bountiful store of accumulated mama wisdom and compassion and humility would you be writing all these wonderful posts, jus’ askin’? 😎

    Liked by 1 person

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