Toxic feelings are as bad as toxic friendships
January 2, 2008
I owe a deep thanks to a commenter who virtually smacked me upside the head with something that I really needed to hear. Kelley of magneto bold too! said something in her comment that picked me up, shook me and made me realize what is holding me back. I am going to post her comment in case you missed it. (But why would you miss it? You are reading my posts and commenting, right?)
I got rid of the toxic people long ago. Helps to have a kid with Autism, really brings out the true colours in people.
But you need to get rid of the toxic feelings at the same time. That one took a long time.
Good luck babe. I know you can do it.
You have no idea how much I needed to read that! I have to get rid of the toxic feelings first. And let me tell you something. I have some really toxic feelings about a few people who stabbed me hard last year. It is time to let that go and move forward.
Thank you, Kelley.
Now, share. What is holding you back from moving forward? What are you holding on to that is keeping you from finding the peace you need or the success you want? Let’s let it go together.
Posted by Jenn @
1:23 pm | |
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Midlife, Martini’s and Me
November 8, 2006
When you reach a milestone such as your 37th birthday, you tend to look back and reflect on your life. Realizing you are knocking on Mid-Life’s door, one might take inventory of her life. Pondering the events that led her to where she is now. Birthdays can bring out the nostalgia in many women. In fact, a mature woman would take this time to ponder life’s amazing blessings.
Yeah right! Good thing I am not one of those women!
I chose to celebrate by going out with my husband where I ate greasy, fried food and drank eleventy martini’s. Well, maybe not that many. But I tried several. Apple Martini. Toasted Almond Martini. Chocolate Martini. And then blah blah blah martini and yada yada yada martini etc but only the bartender, the waitress and Clint know what followed because I was just the one drinking them, not ordering them.
A mature woman would call her family to just connect and feel that sense of togetherness family brings. Perhaps a mature woman in her late 30’s would call her business partner and friend and just let her know how much she means to her.
I am SO NOT that woman. I called my sister–after my fun dinner out– and left her a message that went something like:
“Okay FINE don’t call your sister on her birthday. I mean your BABY sister who looks up to you and sat by the phone all day long waiting…waiting…waiting! No, I am SO kidding. I love you man. I do. You’re my hero. I am sooooo messing with you!” Then dissolve into a fit of giggles and hang up.
But wait, while I have the phone, it is absolutely vitally important that I call my friend and partner and discuss the deepest meanings of life…
“Hi! I know it is late and all but I totally felt like dishing with you. Tell me the gossip. I mean it. I need some serious dirt on someone. Make it up. Do NOT talk business because that is such a buzz kill…..I love you man. No really, I do…Do I tell you enough that I appreciate all you do? You ROCK…”
The call lasted so much longer than those few sentences, but really, neither you nor I need to hear what was said. Especially when you call said friend and partner the next morning and her first words are, “How’s that headache coming along?” (For the record, I have no headache. At all. Jumped out of bed at 6:00am good to go. So there!)
Anyway, thanks for the birthday wishes. Thanks for the fun times. Thanks for knowing that I am SO not the woman who is going to do a retrospective of her life but rather tell you about martini’s and “not as clear headed as I normally am” phone calls. It’s for that reason that love you, man! No, I really do!
[Update: For the record, here is a link to a huge list of various martini’s…made with vodka. They may not be by definition “true” martini’s but vodka martini’s. Call them what you want, just buy me one next time we meet! Ha!]
[Yet Another UPDATE: If you know me, you know my fun love of exaggeration. That would be this entry. Relax. I have not slipped back into making drunk calls, acting like a sorority girl and completely losing my mind. I didn’t think I needed to qualify that, but here I am doing that. Just an FYI]
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Posted by Jenn @
10:47 pm | |
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Gotta love friends like these
August 12, 2006
When in doubt, call (or in computer lingo IM) Karen Rani, she will make you feel better with comments like these:
[13:53] Karen: I TOTALLY LIKE YOU - SHUTUP!
That is all.
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Posted by Jenn @
1:48 pm | |
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You were so good to me…share the love
July 20, 2006
My heart is breaking for my good friend, Busy Mom. Her mom passed away at 3:30 this morning. I have been there. I know the emails and comments mean a lot. Could you please go over there and share the love? It would mean a lot to her. And to me.
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Posted by Jenn @
3:17 pm | |
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Lost and Found–friendships renewed through blogging
June 28, 2006
Okay, so I am all ready to (or fixin’ to if you are a Southern gal) post about other things I learned on vacation when I get an email comment. (Oh, and about one of the things I learned–total usage of the F-bomb, so people easily offended may need to look for the “f-bomb” symbol and move along when I post about that one. I’m just saying.) So anyway, I have to tell you why I love blogging and the Internet and Al Gore for creating it and Bill Gates for getting me online and spammers who have subject lines that make me laugh so hard I nearly pee. Okay, not so much the spammers, but I love everyone else.
As I am likely to be doing about a gazillion times a day, I am checking my email the other night when one comment really gets my attention. As I am looking at the sender’s name (I do that, you know), it strikes me as familiar but unlikely to be from the person I think. But as I read the email, the coincidence level was too high for it to be anyone else. I quickly rush off an email asking “Is it you? Could it be? After all these years?” I may or may not have made sense, but I was so excited. (Now, had this been a mistaken identity, this is where it would go from really cool to totally and hysterically embarrassing because I all but licked the email in excitement.) After nearly 11 years without seeing each other or catching up, my college roommate happened to have stumbled onto Mommybloggers and made a comment having no idea that I had anything to do with the blog. Just like that. Point A meets Point B and we are reconnected.
The very ironic, cosmic, fate-like thing about this is I have been trying to track her down for the last month or so. I guess I just wanted to see how she is and where she is and how life is treating her. Then BLAM the universe plops her right down in my bloggish lap. And guess what? She lives like 45 minutes from me. Here. Near me.
And I never would have known had something I written not struck a chord with her and cause her to comment. So Internet and Mommybloggers and the Universe…..MWAH! Thanks for returning my Smelly Melly! (Sorry, Mel, I could not resist after all these years!)
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Posted by Jenn @
10:46 am | |
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Part 3- The breakdown of “Birthdays, boxing up and breakdowns”
March 28, 2006
First, if you are coming here from the Kidd Kraddick in the Morning show after he read my blog online, welcome. I can tell you it was a shock to turn on the radio and hear my own words being read on the air. What an amazing man Kidd is to share that with you all and to show concern about how I am doing now since I never finished the 3-part series updating anyone. Thank you for coming by to check on me. I have already been so overwhelmed by your emails of support and encouragement. It really does mean a lot. Thank you , Kidd, for asking how I am doing now and for checking on me. You rock my face off!
I knew this part of the series of entries would be the hardest to write. The breakdown.
Everyone has times when they know that they are in a dark place. A place where they are sad or depressed. You can see it. Sometimes you can see your way through it and sometimes you can’t. It’s like getting sucker punched in the gut and having the wind knocked out of you. For a moment you can’t breathe and it feels like you never will. But, someone tells you to throw you arms up in the air, slow down your efforts to breathe and take a breath. Just breathe. And slowly the air begins to fill your lungs again and you know you are not dying. That you will be okay.
Sometimes something happens–like Mom dying– and you have that same feeling. The wind has been knocked out of you and you wonder if you are dying. If you will ever breathe again. But this time, I didn’t even have the strength to throw my arms up and take it slow and breathe. Just breathe. Suddenly, the fear, the desperation and the intensity of the helplessness overwhelmed me. I couldn’t do it. The wind has been knocked out of me. I can’t breathe. I can’t see a way to be able to throw my arms up and just be able to breathe. I don’t have the strength. It is terrifying.
It is times like this you wonder how other people do it. How do they move through the fog and haze that is grief and just breathe? I have always thought the hardest thing in the world for me was to ask for help. It still is. But I learned this week, the hardest part is accepting the help you haven’t asked for but so desperately need to have.
Last Friday I got a call from a friend of mine. Of course, I ignored it because I was in bed trying to shut the world out. Something told me to listen to the message. I have not talked to this woman in a while. Our children used to be in a playgroup when they were toddlers, but as they grew up, we grew apart. But her message said she was coming over. Right then. I panicked. I did not want anyone coming into my home. It was definitely not “company ready.” (You know the difference. The way your house looks when someone is coming over and how it looks when you know you are going to be alone. There is a difference. At least for me.)
Before I knew it, she was at my door telling me she was coming over to help me get up, get going and get to cleaning.
I looked at her with my fists balled at my sides and told her I was fine and that I had sick kids at home and she really shouldn’t be in the house.
“I’m a nurse. I don’t care. I’ll take my chances.” And she pushed by me and stood and looked at me. I looked back trying to will her to go away.
I began to become more insistent that she leave. She became more insistent on staying. I was literally begging her to go insisting that I was fine and didn’t need anyone’s help. Somehow I was not convincing through my balled up fists and tears. It was then that she grabbed me by the shoulders and firmly told me that this bullshit of saying that I was fine was over. That I was not fine and that I needed to let her help. In defeat I let her into my home.
And it was like standing naked in the street. Exposed. Ashamed. Fearful of what she would think. Afraid to let anyone see that fine was the least accurate description of me. She was going to see my dark places, the dark corners that I would not let anyone into. I was humiliated and thankful at the same time.
“We’re going to start cleaning. You are going to get moving and do something that has physical results that you will see. You need to get up and be productive or this dark place will swallow you up and you will not be able to get back out again. Let. Me. Help. You.”
“No.”
“Let. Me. HELP. You.”
“NO!”
“Jenn, let me help you.”
I gave in and began telling her it was silly and she could only stay a minute and that, really, it was just that the kids were sick and I got a little behind. I talked and talked about nothing in order to not think about the humiliation I felt at needing someone to help me with the simple act of just getting up and doing something.
So, side by side we began to scrub down my kitchen. I hated every second of it. I could not stand accepting help. Especially when I needed it so badly. After an hour or more, she stopped what she was doing and looked me in the eye.
“Jenn, you need to go for a walk. Get out in the sunshine and leave your house. Now. You need to go get some fresh air and be a part of the world for a while.”
For the first time since she arrived, I unclenched my fists, looked her in the eyes and asked her in desperation, “Am I really that bad? Am I?”
Taking me by the shoulders she looked into my eyes and said the words I did not want to hear. “Yes, you are, Jenn. You are that bad right now.”
I began to sob, grabbed my dog and went for a walk. I had to come to the realization that I was not fine. That I was not “making it through this” on my own. I walked and cried and felt so frustrated. If someone who isn’t super close to me is seeing how deeply dark my life had become, what am I doing to my family and friends? When they say, ‘How are you?’, do they really want to know or is it just a question you ask someone who has gone through this? I was confused and terrified. And still desperately trying to catch my breath. The wind had definitely been knocked out of me and I had no idea how I would get through this. Ever. Would I ever just breathe easily again or am this going to kill my spirit?
I came back home in silence and began to scrub more vigorously. I would scrub and sweep and dust the pain away. After 4 hours of working side by side throughout my house, I realized what this amazing friend had done for me. She showed me that I needed to slow down my efforts to be “fine”. To ask for and accept help getting through this.
She did what I couldn’t do myself. She grabbed my arms that felt so heavy and burdened and lifted them into the air for me so I could take that first breath and know that I would breathe again. A simple first step. But a crucial one. It was all I had to do right now.
Just breathe.
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Posted by Jenn @
10:36 am | |
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The one where I pretend to post but it really doesn’t count as a post
March 13, 2006
A real update is coming soon. Honest. I have just received so many amazing emails from people checking on me that I wanted to let you all know that I really am okay am here. Things are just really, really hard right now. I will be back in a day or two. I promise. Just give me a bit to try to get “the mental” back. Because sometimes life can just be too much and you need to have the help of those you love to get you through. Thanks to friends who have understood even when I let them down this past weekend (I am so sorry!) and to friends who take panicked phone calls while I babble incoherently (and hearing what I am not saying!) and to my sister who made that horrific drive from Houston to Dallas just to help me out of this black hole.
I do have updates on birthdays, goodbyes and breakdowns. Soon. I promise.
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Posted by Jenn @
11:01 pm | |
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Sometimes I guess there aren’t enough rocks
February 5, 2006
One of my favorite scenes in Forrest Gump is when Jenny returns to her childhood home. All of her anger and pain and resentment built up, she reaches down for a rock and hurls it at that house. That hurling of the rock must’ve felt so good. To hear the glass shatter. To see the house break. She picked up another. And another. And another. Until finally in exhaustion she collapses onto the ground. Spent. Drained. Forrest sits beside her and says in that way he does, “Sometimes I guess there aren’t enough rocks.”
I know it is human nature to want to hurl rocks at the injustices in life. To hurl them at something that has hurt you. Trust me, when the doctors were telling me that my Mom was not going to make it, I understood.
“Then you aren’t doing enough to help!” *hurl*
Or when someone would tell me that she was in a better place and better off now. I didn’t want her there. I wanted her here. I was angry that someone would tell me it was selfish of me to be mad that she was gone.
“What do you know? Have you lost your Mom?” *hurl*
There are times when someone you love and trust hurts you so deeply you can hardly breathe. You have no idea what to do, so you pick up your rocks of words and hurl them at them to make them hurt.
“I know your darkest secrets and I will expose them!” *hurl*
But the thing with hurling the rocks when you are hurting is that they have a tendency to boomerang back towards the very pain within you. In that one instance that you throw that rock, it feels good. I mean, admit it. It feels good to fling that rock of anger and pain with all of your might at the target that caused it, but all it does is exhaust you and ends up boomeranging back towards your own pain. The rock you hurled with intent to hurt someone else, ends up hurting you in the very spot you were aiming to hurt them.
There just aren’t enough rocks to hurl to heal your own inner pain. To heal yourself when you feel someone has wronged you. To make words that devestate you be taken back. There are not enough rocks to ease that.
I am blessed in that this last week I had two very dear friends of mine confront me.
One gently took my hand and softly said, “Jenn, it is time to drop this rock. You need to let it go. You are the only one it will hurt in the long run.” And with the love only a good friend can show you, she shook the rock from my hand and told me to stand up and walk away.
The other asked me what I gained by hurling rocks.
I told her defiantly, “It felt good. I don’t have to take that.”
“But what are you gaining?”
I had no answer. I only had a handful of rocks and a hurting spirit. I dropped my rocks and became silent. “So what do I do now?”
She softly answered, “Quit picking up rocks.”
You see, no matter how good that initial hurling feels, there will never, ever be enough rocks to make it better. There will never be enough force behind the throw to make the pain go away. All it will do is cause pain to myself and to my own heart.
Sometimes there just aren’t enough rocks. So I’ve dropped mine and moved on.
Posted by Jenn @
11:53 pm | |
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Like Gilligan but without the millionare and his wife
September 1, 2005
I love Ann Taintor! I have an address book that has many of my favorites of hers included inside it. I check her website rather frequently to see what new and fun stuff she has added. When I went there today, I nearly spit my coffee out laughing. Is it because this one was just so funny I could not handle it? Not really. More because a very good friend of mine just endured a camping trip that had her rather nervous. To be unplugged from the world for DAYS? She feared the worse.
No cell phones.
No laptops.
Not a single luxury! (Gee, like Gilligan!)
For her, I must post this. While she camped, this is how I spent my days.
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Posted by Jenn @
12:26 pm | |
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Thank you
August 23, 2005
I am seriously blown away by how many of you have emailed me, commented or called me. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your thoughts and prayers. Honestly, it means a lot to me! The good news is that Mom is showing improvement! She is responsive and her breathing is getting much better. She is, however, still critical. But, it is wonderful to see her smile when she hears my voice or to see her respond when one of us tells her to squeeze our hands in response to a question. The doctors are more optimistic than they were. (And we all know how they hesitate to show optimism when a patient is critical.) So, things are looking better.
We are all trying to get sleep and eat healthy meals when we can. I heard a long time ago that you can tell if you have a well balanced meal with the major food groups represented if it is colorful–not all white and bland. I am happy to say that I must be eating a VERY healthy diet. In fact, most of them are very colorful. M&Ms and Diet Coke have a lot of colors represented. See! I am taking care of myself! *grin*
Again, thanks for your kindness. It helps me more than you know!
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Posted by Jenn @
4:48 pm | |
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