Good enough?

What is that little thought inside your head that says, “This is not good enough. If only we had that, then that would be good enough.”?

I know it’s probably the human instinct to be happy. We have to strive for better in order to continue growing, so we have to have thoughts pushing us forward.

But when does that little voice become a nuisance instead of a helper, and what can we do to use it to our advantage?

I have had that nagging voice yelling at me all my life, telling me I wasn’t good enough when I got my associates degree. Telling me I wasn’t good enough because I only got my Bachelor’s and not my Master’s. Telling me I could not possibly be good enough for a real job. Telling me, telling me, telling me.

When is it my turn to have a say?

Now. And now. And now.

As I said in my last article, it is that little girl who is scared and doesn’t want to end up homeless. She is very well-intentioned, but not extremely helpful or encouraging.

It is my job, every day, to talk to her and tell her that we can do this; together.

It is my job to write down all the things I’m grateful for, because they show her that there is more to life than the scary stuff.

It is my job to be the adult and give her play time, time with friends, time to think and wonder and create.

I may have lived through some very painful times, but it is my job to help her see that there is more good in the future. That we can make it through the day. That there is always someone to talk to.

I have gone to Australia by myself, and still, I only focus on the bad things in my mind. But that is my choice. All I have to say is, “Thank you for your input, but I’m doing just fine today.” And go on about my day.

When I can do that, amazing, wonderful things happen, and I don’t even have a reason to be scared.

I hope that you can find your inner strength today, and let someone else in on the fabulous person you are.

Leave comments about how you make it through the day.

 

 

I’ve lived through too much to do fine.

Two weeks into dating Casey, when both of us thought she was about to head off to Asheville we took an amazing date day. Spent the whole day together, exploring Buffalo on a whim. Played pool, walked around Delaware Park, to finish this beautiful day she took me to the observation tower at Canalside for the first time. We were standing up there and I was recounting the last two weeks and how this woman who I barely knew started this change in me. For the first time in years I was thinking about creating again. Building things, painting, writing. As we’re looking out at Buffalo this thought made its way past my lips which has since developed into a bit of a mantra. I have lived through too much to do fine. It’s hard to express how true that statement is, but at some point in the last five years that life was what happened to me.

 

After I got out of my marriage, I think I was so content with being free that I felt as though I should just keep my head down and be grateful for what I’ve got. A bit of a spit in the face when you think about all that I’ve gone through. There is nothing wrong in my opinion with taking a breather after any major life transition, but this encroaching apathy was climbing up to debilitating levels.

 

Which is partly why the ball that Casey had started rolling was so exhilarating. Having what felt like its own center of gravity, it began to attract more of the same. This blog for instance, inspired by Becca, the co-creator, and her fearlessness when it came to taking control of her life and her future. Venturing off to make her own business instead of succumbing to self-doubt. The universe has always surrounded me with people like that, if I take enough care to pay attention. Those who don’t accept what life has dealt them, but realize that life is what you make it. That the dreams that you have are only limited by yourself.

 

The first thing I ever wanted to be, other than a Spice Girl, I was seven years old and we in the soup aisle at the Grocery store. My mom asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I told her that I wanted to be a storyteller, but through the inevitability of childhood I began to to believe that anything in the creative realm was a hobby. I began to buy into the opposite of what we tell our children; that you can’t be whatever you want to be.

Rather you get a respectable job, work hard, clock in, clock out, get married, have kids, do the whole thing. That mentality is what led me to get married at 20 years-old. Now of course I didn’t go about it in the aforementioned order. Nevertheless, it is that thought process that tells you that this is what you have to do; that there is this picture that you have to fit into. A picture has a way of turning out to be just like everyone else. When I was 5 years old the concept of being cookie cutter was the farthest thing from my mind. I wanted to be extraordinary.

 

Unfortunately I chose to surround myself with people that were comfortable in complacency; what a horrifying thought. That thought, that picture, it wasn’t my dream it wasn’t what I aspired to. It was just what I thought I was supposed to do. And when I got my carefully orchestrated picture, the husband, staying at home with 2.5 kids (not that there is anything wrong with that) maybe if it was in a healthier nature, sure. But allowing my creativity to die allowing complacency to become comfortable, along with other aspects of my unhealthy relationship brought me to a lobotomized like state of step-ford wife. Suicidal thoughts once again became an unwanted house guest that I couldn’t shake.

 

I no longer accept orbiting with those that are ok with fine. This life is what you make it. My life is what I make it. And I’m nothing special, just a poor white girl born raised in central Florida. Teenage mom, college dropout. Like I said, nothing special, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be extraordinary. I found out last night that I was picked for a writing job that I interviewed for. There is something affirming about that. It’s one of those moments that makes you wonder what the rest is gonna look like. I don’t want to even dream about the next chapter, because I know that I’ll sell myself short. So instead I’ll just continue to push forward; taking every opportunity that I manifest. Committing to an extraordinary life. Because I have survived things that should have killed me. I have come out the other side (albeit a little worse for wear) from terrors that most people only witness in nightmares.

I have lived through too much to do fine.

Little you.

If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed…

Take time for your inner child.

Settle down for a moment, breathe in and out, and take him/her to a fun, safe place.

I take little me to a beautiful State Park where she can explore nature and enjoy the animals.

It quiets her down and lets her know I care for her and will take care of her. It allows her to feel happy and safe, so that I can get on with handling life.

Take time for your inner child today, because it is there and it wants to be heard.

Namaste.

How to Make it Through the Day with Self-Doubt

When you have been told and shown that you are not good enough, no matter what you do, it can be hard to have self-confidence.

I’m here to help you decide (yes, it’s a decision) to have a better day, and stop listening to those yucky thoughts in your head that are holding you back.

I have a tremendous amount of actual issues that hold me back. My self-doubt LOVES to blow them out of proportion and produce them as evidence that I will not make it.

Some of the reasons are:

I do not sleep/wake up at normal business hour times.
I have a serious lack of memory.
I have social anxiety.
I am lazy and procrastinate a lot.
I have PTSD, which makes life more of a game of survival than the thriving in each situation I would like.

Some of you are probably nodding your head going me too. But the biggest, most corrosive lie I tell myself is that these problems are unique to me and that everyone else has self-doubt only in their head, but I have legit reasons for it.

The ego is smarter than I, unfortunately.

But there is something to be done about this. We can CHANGE OUR MINDS.

Every time I notice a thought like this, I can see it, breathe and remember what I really am, which is a part of this huge universe that will never let me down, and imagine myself overcoming the “issue” I am currently facing.

My former therapist always used to say, “What we resist persists.” Now that is just a fun way of saying that we are the creators of our outer world.

I have decided that I was going to do some work tonight, even though it’s a Sunday, even though I was watching TV before this, even though I do not believe in my abilities as much as I would like to today.

Life is about action. When I take an action, it gives me that inertia to take more action, and more importantly, it gives me the confidence to do it again. That action, taken over time, allows me to improve my abilities and begins to remove the evidence that self-doubt had.

Self-doubt can’t catch me when I’m doing my thing!

Give this post a like if you believe we can do anything we set our minds to, and share it so more people can know that we are the creators. Write a good story today!

My Gilmore Girl

One of my biggest regrets to date was marrying my ex-husband when my daughter was too young to have a say in the decision. Before that union it was just the two of us, me and my girl. As a young, single mom with a beautiful, baby girl it was pretty easy to see us as the start of real life Gilmore Girls. I did my best to protect that special bond with her, even during the lowest parts of my marriage and the absolute blessing of my two sons. Unfortunately I didn’t always succeed in investing as much time in that bond as she deserved. After “the split” I viewed this new chapter as an opportunity to recommit to the individual relationships I have with all three of my children. Especially the little girl who taught me how to be a mom when I barely knew how to be an adult.

 

When I began to fall for my incredible girlfriend Casey, one of the first conversations I had with the brood was expressing to them that this was an “us” decision. I wanted to make sure that I learned from my first mistake and actively took to heart the fact that anyone that’s dating me is also dating them. When the bigs (my two oldest) and I sat down for a family meeting regarding the possibility of Casey moving in I empowered them with the freedom to always express to me any misgivings they felt. That if they felt uncomfortable at anytime with this new situation to come to me immediately. So when my sweet little Raven cuddled up to me one night and reminded me of this conversation I was nervous, but all ears.

 

“You told us that we should tell you if we ever have bad feelings about you and Casey, right?” Raven cautiously questioned. With my heart in my throat but my voice tempered, I assured her and asked for her to elaborate. Raven went on to tell me that she missed us, her and I. That she felt as though I didn’t have time to hangout with her ever since Casey moved in. Knowing she was probably right I sated my desire to self-criticize, and instead made a date. Tuesday nights would now be girls night, full of her choice of mindless television and self-care.

 

This week it was Project Mc2 and silver sparkle nail polish for her and bright red on me. Let’s start off with her television choice, this particular Netflix Original is about a group of teenage agents who work for an all-female secret spy network, so far so good. Actually, in all honesty it was pretty good as far as kids shows go. In one scene where the focus was on the team member whose specialty is combining chemistry and cooking, Raven told me how she wants to be a scientist when she grows up. When asked what kind of science she was interested in, my seven-year-old responded with Chemistry. Unsurprised by the coincidence I inquired further and she explained that she wanted to make things. I questioned if she meant inventor instead and her rebuttal was that she didn’t want recreate things that already existed but rather she wanted to create completely new things out of nothing. That she wanted to do science magic. This back and forth is a large contributor as to why I am now a fan of this show.

 

With the final credits rolling up the screen, freshly painted nails fully dry, and the clock nearing 9:30, I directed her to finish her chocolate milk and scurry off to bed. As she leaned in for a goodnight hug and kiss she stopped short looked me in the eye and said, “Thank you for listening.” There are those few moments where all of my self-doubt and internal self-deprecation have no choice but to shut the hell up; this was a big one. I know that I will never do this whole parenting thing perfect, nor will I ever be able to go back and alter past decisions, but at least if I can hold on to those four words expressed by one of the kindest creatures I have ever known, there’s a chance we might be doing alright.

Voting Witches

I was just told I couldn’t vote. And I realized how terrible that must have made people of different genders and races feel.

I am so grateful to everyone who fought for our rights as women to vote, and for all people of color to be able to vote today.

It is our right in a democratic nation to be able to vote for our elected officials.

I was told this because I moved and did not re-register. I went to my old polling place and was told I wasn’t in their books, and to go to another polling place.

I happily went to do my duty as a U.S. citizen and member of New York State’s voter registration.

It was there, at my would-be polling place that I was told, “Then you just can’t vote!”
By a very nasty woman. I won’t get into how many teeth she may or may not have had, cause that’s just petty 😉

But I was told by the first woman I spoke to that I could fill out a form and vote, so I went back to that woman and said the nasty woman told me I couldn’t vote.

She told me I could get an affidavit ballot.

I went back to the nasty woman and told her what she told me. She said that I could not do that. We fought about it for awhile. This younger woman had my back and even called to make sure they could. I continued by saying that the younger woman said someone just did this. I was not going down without a fight.

The nasty woman said, “Fine, but you’re vote WON’T COUNT.”

I was horrified by her treatment but told her I didn’t care, that I wanted to vote anyway.

I would like to just take a minute to thank all those who have fought for our rights, and those who continue to fight for the rights of others and those to come.

Don’t let anyone stop you from improving your town, country, or planet!

I Don’t Take My Own Advice.

Welcome to our new weekly advice vlog.

Siobhan and Rebecca will be answering any burning desires you have for us. Ask us anything in the comments and we’ll give you our honest opinion about it all.

Examples: PTSD, motherhood, bachelorettehood, Buddhism, sex education, or anything that tickles your fancy. Be bold, be brave. Be you. We will us. We look forward to your questions.

Sleepy bitch

I cannot wake up in the morning. I am not a morning person. I do not like mornings. I have serious F.O.M.O. (fear of missing out) but that still will only get me there some of the time.

I am really looking forward to EMDR therapy; really starting it. That stands for eye-movement desensitization and reprocessing. This will reduce the effects of PTSD.

My life has been turned into acronyms.

I’m going to chant about that when I go meet with my SGI friends 😉

Anyway, I am hoping to release and turn around the old, bad memories of mornings and get to a place where I can wake up with a refreshed spirit and greet the day! I would like to emulate my mentor, SGI President Daisaku Ikeda. This man encourages everyone he meets, and your can feel good conviction in every word. I would like to have the discipline to wake up for an 8am toso (chanting for an hour). But at the moment, the sound of 8am repels me completely.

I have a strong faith in God. Now I need a strong trust in God. And, maybe more importantly, in myself.

That, or I will just never be a morning person and who really cares anyway when I run my own business?

Please leave comments if you have trouble sleeping and what you think. Should I continue trying to be like “normal society” or should I proudly wave my flag of sleepy bitch?

Ten things I don’t hate about PTSD either.

Fuck. After Brian employed Siobhan to find 10 good things about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, she told me about it, and then employed me to do the same.

While she had put time, thought and effort into coming up with her list, I am unable to do that.

My PTSD has me always in the present.

So when people are getting ready to leave a place, I can’t think that I should start my car with the remote I finally have for it to warm it up because I’m too focused on if we are going to hug goodbye and that I have to be ready for it if we are, because I have to make sure you like me and I’m doing this socializing thing correctly.
That literally just happened to me.

Like in my last post, I said it is really hard for me to think ahead because I’m so caught up in that silly old fight or flight nonsense every waking moment of the day. It’s also difficult for me to think back to anything (say, like thinking about Siobhan asking me to think of ways PTSD is good). I wouldn’t dream that was possible, until I read her post.

So, I’m giving it a shot. Here goes:

1. I am always present for my kitties. I know exactly how they are feeling (and if they are about to strike, like my older cat constantly does), and how many dots are on their nose at all times.
2. I know what is wrong with me at all times. This one’s handy for building up my ability to get my needs met. I always know when I am uncomfortable and should ask for something to be different. Whether I do or not is completely up to me.
3. I always know that there is not a person hiding in my backseat. I check pretty much every time I get in my vehicle. You know, whenever someone could be hiding back there.
4. I have a severe empathy for other people. I know what it feels like to be broken, to be lost, to be scared and to feel alone. I can make that space for you and tell you I understand.
5. I am a caretaker to the hurt. I am the friend that will support you, that will cheer you up when you are sad, mad, upset, whatever. I am always aware of every little change in energy, and now, I know that that energy is not always being sent my way, and I can help people out of it.
6. I have been a survivor for a really long time. I can show you how I got out of that when everything seemed insurmountable and every emotion seemed too hard to feel.
7. I know who to watch out for. I can tell a change in tone in an instant. I know when someone is about to get loud and aggressive. I do not play that shit, and I do not allow my friends to deal with it either.
8. I love the shit out of fun. I went through so many years being depressed and laying in bed watching TV. Now, I will go pretty much anywhere for a good time, and I bring the good time with me. It will not be dull around me. As you can see from our first blog post, #nofilter.
9. I have suffered almost all there is to suffer. I have seen jails, mental institutions and rehabs, and I’ve never been in them. I’ve experienced the loss of both my parents. I have had crippling anxiety and depression and alcoholism and sex addiction and, and, and. My worst circumstances were as a child. There is no stopping me. It is only up from here.
10. I go to great lengths and have big dreams. I have seen the depths of human emotion. I will stop at nothing to see the brightest of them. I will be a traveling editor. Watch me.
11. I even have a bonus one! I go hardcore at my spirituality. I never stop growing, learning about myself and how I can become a better human to myself and the people around me. And this might be the best gift I have ever gotten!

Ten things I don’t hate about PTSD

I was officially diagnosed with PTSD a year and a half ago, but for the better part of the last decade that four letter word has been mentioned to me by more than a handful of mental health professionals. Like most people who receive this news I spent a while in denial, after that I was ashamed, and now I split my time between neutral and pissed off. Pissed off at the symptoms that keep me feeling broken.

A few weeks back I was enjoying one of those bad days. It was the first one for some time so this one in particular was kicking my ass. In an attempt to find some solace I spoke to a friend, one of those mentor types, and he had a peculiar suggestion. He empathized with the self-pity cycle surrounding all the downright shitty attributes to my specific mental quirks, going as far as to comment how easy it would be to come up with ten things I HATE about PTSD right off the cuff. Then he inquired if I had ever thought about the positive side to it. Clearly seeing the mixture of confusion and anger growing on my face he elaborated. See he believes, as do I that everything that exists in the material world has a sense of duality to it. Under that logic if there is a negative to something there must be a positive as well. Therein lied my challenge, to come up with ten good things about my PTSD… so here goes.

Ten good things about PTSD…shit:

1. I always know how many exits there are in any given room and I have probably already visualized multiple different disasters or violent events and which escape route would be the best for each.
2. I have an incredibly fine tuned gut when it comes to people. I can tell without even having a conversation with someone but by hearing them speak, watching them move across a space, and their facial features as they express different emotions whether or not they are likely to be safe.
3. That ability to read people has given me a talent in picking out the best people, the gems amongst the coal. With very little difficulty I am able to find these remarkable humans that possess a level of genuine sincerity that is to be admired.
4. I have about the same information and working knowledge about grounding exercises as most clinical physicians.
5. This gives me a unique ability for helping people who may be too scared to go to one yet.
6. It grants me quite a transparent and raw approach to parenthood, I have conversations with my kids that I think most moms would probably be intimidated having. Because my life in run on extremes. When it comes to communicating with other humans it’s either absolute surface or let me show you my soul and see if you understand. There’s not much in between. It allows me a very beautiful relationship with those kids.
7. I have incredibly fast reflexes. Whether it comes to avoiding car accidents or catching a child moments before their cute little face meets sidewalk; unfortunately the racing heartbeat afterwards is less than enjoyable, but se la vie.
8. Due to the gratuitous amount of trauma therapy I am painfully aware of the importance of self-care, I have a very in tune relationship with myself. I guess that’s always the upside to being crazy if you’re actually attempting to take care of it, or work on it, or just survive you tend to pay attention to things that other people probably don’t have to. Like actively altering your self-talk to make sure that it’s positive or ensuring that you don’t go longer than a week without taking a shower even if you don’t want to. Like making yourself bubble baths even when the idea of sitting in one sounds awful, but so does everything else. So you draw the bath and you light the candles and you turn on whatever music seems enjoyable or at least the most tolerable and you just sit there trying your best just to sit, even if it’s just for ten minutes.
9. You are never bored even when you want to be. Your brain is always going, always thinking. Upside of that is with practice and focus you can turn the ever racing thoughts into creative things. Which means even as an adult you have an incredibly powerful imagination.
10. You’re not alone. Even though you feel that way. When I was diagnosed I was in denial for a really long time. I kept repeating over and over in my head that I didn’t have that traumatic of a life. I didn’t really tell anyone for a while, not even those in my immediate support network. And it wasn’t until I just happened to be driving in the car with this woman I knew, not that well but we were friendly. Out of nowhere she mentions that she has PTSD and like a kid almost giddy I responded with “So do I!” There is something really beautiful about finally being able to talk to some other person about the shadow people who you see on occasion when things get bad. And to not have them look at you with this twisted face of confusion and want to be compassion, but the truth is if you don’t live it, if you haven’t felt it and you don’t know it; you have no idea what it’s like. But when you open yourself up, you realize that you’re not alone. When you finally find other people that do get it, your brain doesn’t have to feel like a cage anymore. All those strange quirks that you have, the ones that you would never want to admit in public just become simple jokes between friends.