Reaping the Benefits of Meditation

Taking a little break from rehashing dusty feelings to talk a bit more about meditation. I strayed away for about a week or so. One of my kitties got sick, and other things happened, and I just kind of stopped. I really only thought about it maybe once or twice, and just couldn't be bothered. Anyway, I told myself this weekend that Monday I would start again, and I once again feel great. When will I get it through my thick head that it helps, especially in times of high stress. Today I did yoga, and I meditated right after and I felt so grateful for breath! I think a lot of the time I'm a shallow breather, especially when I'm mad, anxious, or upset for any reason. Breathing deep feels so freaking groovy! A few of the guided meditations I follow mention forgiving yourself if you're having a hard time focusing. Continuing to work on that has spilled out into my non meditating life. For as long as I can remember I say the nastiest things to myself. I give up on things too quickly, if I don't catch on right away, or think I won't be good at it. This has been a huge problem in my life since forever. But I am able to forgive myself when my mind wanders. And my mind is wondering less. Even today, after many days of not having that focus. And because I didn't give up on meditation, and now I am feeling the benefits, it's opened my mind to possibilities in so many other areas. I say much less nasty things to myself. I try to be kind to myself in my thoughts.
It's really hard to commit to meditation, believe me I know. This is like ten years in the making for me. Start, finish. Start, suck, stop doing it. Hearing other people talk about the benefits, and believing them, but not believing it will work for me I've thought it all. And not everything is for everyone. But, I believe everyone could benefit from slowing down, breathing, and just being. I feel so grateful for so many things that I just took for granted before, and it's made me a happier person. I feel like I'm in on the joke. When people talked about gratitude, and loving life before it seemed like something reserved for certain people. It feels good to be one of those people. There are certain views in Seattle that I know I've seen a million times when I lived here before, but I don't really remember marveling in them. Now, every time I'm on bus route number 40 and I see the stunning view of the Cascade mountains, it never doesn't take my breath away. So, feeling gratitude for small things has made me an immensely happier person.
I also think meditation is helping me remember some of my feelings I fought so hard to bury They've taken up space for too long, and I need to feel them and deal with them. I think meditation is helping me to be strong enough to do this on my own. Other than what I write about on this blog, I have no one to talk to about this stuff, so the strength is coming from somewhere.
I really just want to encourage anyone who is struggling with meditation to hang in there. It will get easier, and sometimes it will still be hard. But the results are so worth it.

Stuff Happens Beause of Things

I sometimes wonder what my relationship with my birth mother would have been like with me as an adult. I wonder if we would have been able to work through our issues and have a good relationship, or if her inability to love me would have just continued. I wish so much that things would have been different, because I often feel like she's the only person that would understand how I feel.I just feel this connection to her that makes no sense since truth be told, we were never close and I haven't seen or spoken to her in years. It's like when I'm feeling really deeply lonely, or I'm feeling frustrated because no one understands how I feel, I feel like she would, because it's exactly how she would feel. Without wanting to, or meaning to I am just like her.
I think once I was adopted, and it was decided that she was the enemy, and everything she did was wrong, it had to have messed with my head. I know that I have spent many years aggressively fighting and denying who I really am. And feeling ashamed of who I am. I'm not blaming anyone, I certainly know that no one wanted me to feel that way, but unfortunately it happened.

Safe Place

When my new family adopted me, the narrative became angelic them saving poor old me from the evil mother. It's always noted how loving and amazing they must be. I know that in their hearts they thought they were doing the right thing, and I don't mean to portray them as bad people, but now that I'm older and wiser I see things differently, and I see ways that they created this narrative for my life that isn't accurate, and I can't pretend I think drinking and living an unhealthy life made ignoring all of this a lot easier.
My adoptive parents couldn't have kids of their own Not sure why, I know they went through all of the tests and what not. Anyway, they also have about the most dysfunctional marriage I've seen It's weird, they claim that they love each other, but when they're in the same room you can feel the hate. They can't stand each other, and it is palpable But yet, they think they have an aces relationship, and have the nerve to try to coach other people on relationships! It is a nightmare to be with the two of them, because they will bicker back and forth, and try to get you involved and taking sides and it is just unbearable. But they claim that the bickering is just their little cute way of being with each other.
It is really weird and uncomfortable.
I remember when they first adopted me, they mentioned they had gone through several adoption agencies and been rejected. At the time I didn't think anything about it because I was seventeen and didn't really know much, but now it really makes me wonder They are upper middle class with no criminal records or anything like that. They are typical church going people who do all the right things by society's standards. Why the hell would they get rejected? I should have asked I feel it most likely had to be psychological or the people interviewing noticed the hate between them or something. Men and women who are both employed, educated, own a house, earn good money, and desperately want a kid usually get a kid at  some point It makes no sense. And I remember the desperation in I'll call her D's eyes. No matter how old I get I will remember those desperate eyes.
I spent so many years away from them when I lived in Seattle the first time. During those years D never once came to visit, and I'll call him M came to visit two times. They never once offered to help me in any way, as a matter of fact any time I was going through a hardship, and by hardship I mean having no food or being evicted, they would refuse any help. M always said they couldn't afford to (lie) and D came right out and said that they did not approve of me living in Seattle, and if I would just move back to Erie, they would be able to help more. That is not unconditional love, that is control. D also admitted by accident that they were hoping to change me when they adopted me Like I was a fixer upper I was good, but with a little work I could be brand spanking new. I tried their church, and I'm sorry, it isn't for me. I am an open minded person, and I try not to make opinions when I have no facts, or haven't experienced something for myself. I tried to go to their church, and be Christian, whatever that meant, and it didn't work for me It didn't feel authentic. I am agnostic, and I no longer will be ashamed. If I'm wrong, and the Christians are right, it's okay because I don't want to worship anyone who would allow the terrible pain and suffering of this world. What the fuck, if that guy exists he is an asshole. And I could write a book on Christian people. Oh my gourd, in a future post I will definitely share my experiences in that weird world
I just realized something, I talked about closure the other day, and how I will never have closure with my adoptive parents because they would never listen. Well, this is a pretty close second to closure. I feel so much better rambling about my feelings. I have talked to very few people about how I feel in my life. To be honest, even knowing how I feel about this situation is somewhat new to me.
The few times I have tried to talk about my feelings in regards to my weird family history, I feel like I'm told how I should and shouldn't feel, and it just makes me realize I should keep everything inside.
So, thanks blog, and thanks to all five of you who read this, it really is doing wonders for my mental health. It's like a safe place I come when I'm struck with a thought or feeling. 

Going In

For most of my adult life I've kept a lot of my feeling to myself. When I was adopted, it was something that no one really wanted to talk about. I think my adoptive parents thought that I would automatically be a totally different person just from being adopted, and shown love and all of that stuff. I quickly figured out that my old life was not to be discussed unless it was putting it down. I'm just now realizing how that has a part in me trying so hard for so long to deny who I am. I am so much like my birth mother, or how I remember her it's scary. Down to habits of mine. I like to lay in bed and read, and sometimes(a lot of the time) I like to have some kind of crunchy, salty snack while I'm reading. I have vivid memories of my mom doing the same thing.Pretzels were here salty reading snack of choice. Like every day. I could go on and on, but that is just one example that for whatever reason sticks out in my head. She loved to read, we always had books spread out all over the house. All kinds of books. She had a lot of opinions, but she was well versed on her opinions. I am the same way. I have loved to read since I can remember. I loved books before I could read! I also got my love of animals from her. We always had animals growing up, and she was a warrior for animals. At one point in my life, we lived in the country, on like nine acres or something. Hunting was a thing in this town, and a lot of the acres were just not fenced in, and totally wild. So, every hunting season she would put on a fluorescent suit and go chase off any maniacs who thought they could hunt anything on our property. She was fearless that way, and people didn't scare her.  But she had a dark side. A side that for some reason could not love me. When I was eight, she married my step dad. A short time after that, she had a baby. She might have been pregnant when they got married, I can't remember. Anyway, she loved my half sister, and was certainly never abusive. She used to let me know that my half sister was the one who was going to make her proud, and other gems. It was as if it wasn't enough that I could see the difference, she had to make sure I got it. I feel certain that maybe I was born out of some kind of attack, or my birth father did something horrible to her or something of the sort. I may not have been a perfect child, but for the love of all it seems too weird to me that she could have such hate for one kid, and such love for another. I mean, I suppose most parents have a fave, but to be totally emotionally and physically abusive to one, and not another is strange, and most horrible parents are horrible all around, and to all children.
I'm only now starting to look at my past from a different perspective. I now realize why I always think everyone else deserves what I don't. Love, respect, kindness, the life I want, etc. I've always thought that stuff was simply for other people.
This is what happens when you spend so many years puking and drinking away your feelings. They continue to exist, no matter how much you ignore. I guess maybe you face things when you're ready. I don't think I was ready to get in there before. I wanted to be free of all of this. I wanted to be one of my friends, with their family no matter how fucked up, it was their family. They had that connection that just is. That kind of connection can't be forced.
I'm really glad I've decided to write here whenever I'm getting the feelings. This is seriously the most I've ever delved into my own past, and feelings and I have to be honest it's really helping. I feel like I'm getting to know myself, and I feel like it's helping with my self esteem in some weird way.
I'm not doing a whole lot of editing, I'm going with the flow and the feels, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes.

Discrepancies

My birth mother was and I'm assuming still is very liberal. I remember most of my family fell in the liberal spectrum, and religion wasn't a priority. I had one uncle who was a terrible bigot, and he was tolerated but secretly despised by just about everyone. I used to listen to my mom and her friends smoke weed and solve the worlds problems when I was supposed to be sleeping. I was always encouraged and inspired by their passion. They often talked about things that are my main focus today. Environmental issues were a huge issue for them, and I of course got my love for animals from my mom. My mom despised close minded people, republicans, corporations, bullies, and politicians.
My mom and her friends, and eventually my step dad talked about world issues all the time, both when I was in bed, and right in front of me. There was never any"not in front of the kid" stuff.
My adoptive family are super Christian, super conservative, and super Republican. Just to really make it difficult, they are also super bigoted and super close minded. Religion is forced down your throat, and if you don't claim Jesus as your savior, or whatever it is they say you have to do, you are going to Hell, no matter how good of a person you are. But, according to them, you can be a bigoted asshole who really doesn't do much to contribute to society, but if Jesus is your savior, you're golden. In addition to these difference, no one in my adoptive family gives even a little bit of a shit about the environment. They don't even believe in Global Warming/Climate Change. They aggressively refuse to recycle.
These drastic differences in my life make it hard for me to have conversations about my life, especially in regards to family. If I talk about my childhood, it's full of stories involving liberal ideas, and if I talk about late teenage to early adult it's got religious, conservative undertones. I try to keep it straight in my head, and edit as I go, but there have been times I've slipped up, and gotten some strange looks. In most cases people don't ask about the discrepancies in my stories, but I'm always waiting for it to happen.
I generally do my best to avoid these types of conversations because it's just too much to keep track of in my own head. And I don't like the feeling I have when I know my story doesn't match up, and I'm waiting for the day when someone says, "wait a minute, I thought you're mom was liberal" or "wait a minute, I thought your parents were republican" or whatever. It just makes everything awkward, and my weird family life is something I keep private, even though now I've posted it on the webz!

Remembering

I was looking up various relatives from my birth family last night. It's something I do every now and then, when I'm not feeling bad enough. I used to do stuff like this when I was drinking. I miss alcohol. I somehow stumbled across an obituary for my step dad. He died just this past June. It didn't say what was the cause, just that he had been battling a long illness. My mom married my step dad when I was eight. I was living with my grandparents at the time, and my mom just showed up one day telling me she was getting married, and we were all going to live together. I didn't want to go and meet this new man. I wanted to stay with my grandparents. My step dad was Ukrainian, and his parents weren't happy he was marrying an American. Especially one like my mom. They were both highly educated, as was my step dad, and my mom was a single mom, vegetarian free spirit. I remember when we would go for dinner at his parents house they would only talk to him in their language. It was super awkward for my mom and I. She must have really loved him though, because it wasn't like her to tolerate things like that. When they got married, it was Catholic orthodox wedding, and the ceremony was like three or four hours long!
My step dad never tried to be my dad, just a person. He sometimes would try to soften some of the blows that came from my mom. My mom loved telling me how ugly I was. She loved to pick apart what was wrong with me, and he would sometimes sit me down after one of her rants and tell me that I was pretty and that I should always believe that. I don't really know if he ever talked to her about how she treated me. If he did, she didn't listen.
He and my mom had a baby, and for whatever reason my mom adored her baby with him. She was everything my mom wanted in a daughter. My step dad never made me feel like less of a part of the family.
I wasn't mentioned in the obituary of course. It's very strange to see yourself written out of your own history. It's not as cool as they make it seem in the movies. Anyway, I just thought I would in my own tiny way acknowledge that someone who had an impact in my life passed.
I'm sorry I never got a chance to thank you for trying to sooth some of my hurt feelings.

Closure

Closure is an important step in healing, or so I've been told. Closure is something that I deeply crave, but rarely have. I was in the group home for wayward teens, and left to go live with my adoptive parents. I never even went back home to get my things, say goodbye all of that. I don't even remember making that decision, or why or anything. I'm sitting here typing this thinking, why wouldn't I have gone to get some of my stuff, or say goodbye? So, I never said goodbye to anyone in my real family. All the discussions about the adoption and details were talked about by my birth mom and my adoptive dad who is a lawyer by the way.
A few months after the adoption I got a letter from my grandparents saying I had made my choice, and I chose a whole different family, so I made my bed I guess. I was devastated. I loved my grandparents more than anything in the world. I should have tried to talk to them. I was too young and too fucked up in the head to make such a huge decision that would affect my whole life. I can't talk to my grandparents now, and try to explain and make it right. Unfortunately they have both passed.
I also never will get closure with my adoptive parents. They believe that they came along and saved me, and God intervened and everything they do is because of Jesus and on and on. Any time in my life since I have known them if I dare question or have a problem with anything to do with them, well let's just say the price I pay is just not worth it. You see, she is a therapist and he is a lawyer, and so they both are absolutely the best at twisting words and situations, and before you know it you are questioning everything about yourself, and you feel horrible for whatever it was that you felt. They are both the most successful in their families, and also are both the oldest of their siblings, so they are always the ones to bail everyone out. Whether it's loaning money, handling this, dealing with that, they help out, never needing help. They have their shit together a little bit more than everyone else. They tell you what's wrong with you, you don't tell them.
So the last time I tried to have a conversation about my feelings ended in disaster. I received the nastiest email ever from my adoptive father. He tore me down like I was nothing. I haven't spoken to either of them since. This was in October.
I will never be able to have closure with my birth family, and I apparently will never have closure with my adoptive parents. At this point in my life, I want nothing to do with them. I see them as a mistake in my life, like a lot of my past relationships. I have to somehow find the closure within myself, I guess. Maybe I need to go to the desert and yell out my feelings and then sit in a sweat lodge, I don't know.

Admitting It

Something that you hear people say a lot about girls/woman they perceive as damaged is that they have "daddy issues". Certain types of sleazy men even like finding women with "daddy issues". So many creeps. I never knew my dad, so believe me I'm sure that I have daddy issues. But what I've really come to realize is that I have "mommy issues". I have complicated relationships with women, I'm very easily intimidated by women, especially older women, or very loud women. But, when it comes to relationships, I somehow find men and have relationships that somewhat echo my relationship with my birth mother. I find men that either are emotionally unavailable, or men who I don't feel safe with. I find relationships where I don't feel loved, or valued. And I somehow find men who are more than happy to make me feel like there is something wrong with me for wanting to feel loved, and listened to.
Years ago I was at an eating disorder clinic and we had family therapy day, which for me was very weird because, well family. Anyway, we had to make family trees to figure out the roots of our problem. I had to make one for my family(I did my birth family) and they had me do one for my boyfriend at the time because we lived together. When I was done with mine, my therapist pulled me aside and asked if I noticed the similarities between my mom and my boyfriend. At the time I really didn't see the connection, I was young and super in denial. Plus, I really wasn't supposed to be having any bad feelings, because I had a shiny new family. I've thought about what she pointed out from time to time, but now I'm ready to really get in there and figure it out. I cringe at some of the ways I've allowed myself to be treated, and some of the bad ways I've allowed people to make me feel.
They say the first step is admitting the problem. I'm admitting this to myself, and now that I recognize, I can start to heal.
I have dreams like everyone else, and I want to achieve them, and I want people in my life who encourage and inspire, not drag me down.
Progress not perfection.

Therapy Is in Session

I've been trying to figure out why my family history has been bothering me so much. Especially issues I have with my adoptive family. I'm back in Seattle now, so it's not like I have to see or deal with them ever. It's been bothering me because I now realize that in order to fully heal myself I have to deal with these feelings. They're just brewing inside of me, like cancer. And I feel them all the time now that I'm not purging or drinking them away. I've been stunted all these years, and just punishing myself over and over, and I can't do it anymore.
I never knew my birth father, but I can only assume I'm not much like him, because from what I can remember I am almost identical to my birth mother. Some of my demons are clearly passed down, so I'm sure they were her demons as well. I see things in my past differently as an adult than as a child, as we all do.
When I moved back to Erie PA which is where my adoptive family were born and raised, it took me about two minutes to see that there would be no bond with my adoptive mom and myself. You see, I had changed, I had somewhat grown into myself while living in Seattle. I met people who accepted me, fucked up bits and all.
The problems with my adoptive parents are not even their fault, or my fault. It's just something that shouldn't have happened, and now it's kind of just a mess. They are who they are. They are conservative, right wing, Christians. I am not. I was raised in an extremely liberal household, and that has stuck with me. While I lived in Erie, I could not be around my adoptive mother for more than five minutes without a lecture about how she was never happy until Jesus, and nothing will ever work for me until Jesus, and she's so worried about my soul and just insane things.
My birth mother had me when she was a teenager, classic story. My grandparents, (her parents) wanted me to live with them, and in the early years I did here and there, but when I was eight years old she married my step-dad and I went to live with them full time. For some reason my birth mother just could not love me. Or as she used to say, she loved me because she had to, but she sure didn't like me. She was a complicated woman, at least that's how I see her now. She was abusive to me both mentally and physically. A few years after they married, she had a baby and was a very loving and doting mother. I was told from as early as I can remember that I was ugly. Any chance she got to tear down my looks she took. The funny thing is that I look  a lot like her. I'm saying all of this to say that there were reasons that everything in my life happened, but I never dealt with the feelings of loss, and I never really grieved. I remember that we didn't really talk about my old family with my new one. It was as if they thought that by me living with them it was as if I had lived with them always.
This is all such a mess, and I'm sure the way I'm kind of reliving it and writing it is making no sense. This is one of the main things that has come from my meditation practice. This new knowledge that I have to deal with this crap within myself, and come to terms wit it all. Running away and living in denial has done nothing.
I'm emotionally spent now. I guess the hour is up for now! I'm going to organize my thoughts over the next few days and figure out an organized way to sort all of this, and tell my story in a way that is more fluid. But for now this has been a huge step just talking about it, and opening this can. It's very scar, and I thought a million times about deleting that post. But I know that this is important for me to do, so I'm sticking with it.

I'm Affected

One thing I know for sure is that I can do all of the working out, clean eating, meditating, on and on and it can only do so much. There are things in life that you can't om away, and I guess you have to face them, and not let them rule your life. Or something like that.
I have a thing in my life. I have several, but the one I'm thinking of right now has taken me many many years to admit is a problem. I was adopted. Not as a baby or even a small child. I was adopted right before my eighteenth birthday. I'll save all of the details about my home life for later, but let's just say there were some abuse issues in my life, and at sixteen I tried to run away from home. I didn't make it very far, and I was put on probation. I ended up being sent to a group home for wayward girls. It was a Christian group home. They took away all of my music because it was secular. I remember I didn't even know what secular meant! All we were allowed to listen to was music by Christian artists. It was very hard for me to deal with this environment, as I was raised very differently. Anyway, I had a therapist who was a very nice woman. When it came close to my release day, the therapist sat me down and explained that she felt nervous to send me home because they were just sending me home to the same environment. She invited me to spend the weekend with she and her husband, and I agreed. They had a nice house, and they were very very nice to me. They seemed to actually like me, which was not something I was used to.
After the weekend was over, she asked me if I'd like to come and live with them, instead of going back home, if it was okay with my mom. The temptation of living with people who had no children, and so desperately wanted one and who would be nice to me was an amazing temptation, and I agreed, as did my mom.
My adopted mom has a huge Italian family, like seven sisters and a brother, and they are all very loud. My adopted dad has a very religious and also extremely bigoted family. I remember his mom was seriously exactly like the old Church lady skit from SNL. I came from a small family, who were mostly very liberal and definitely not hardcore Christian.
It was just expected that I would call my new "family" mom, dad, g ma, g pa, all of those things. But I couldn't. I just could not, and I always felt like I was letting everyone down, and there was something wrong with me. I feel like I've blocked out a lot of details, but mostly I remember constantly feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.
I have so many more details to talk about, and I will, but I wanted to take this first step and say out loud that I am lost. To fast forward, I moved to Seattle so many years ago I believe to find myself, and breathe. I missed my birth family, and I lost contact with everyone when I got adopted. Anyway, when I moved back to PA, I was suddenly living in the same city again, I had gone "home". But it was the opposite of home. I hated living in Erie PA more than any place I've ever lived in my entire life, and let me tell you I've lived in some places. And I still remember the first Christmas I got roped into going to dinner with the Italian side of the family, and I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin I was so uncomfortable and felt so out of place. And, I don't like them. The sisters are gossip-y and snobby, and their teenage children are the same. It's like being in a house full of women of various ages who aspire to be the Kardashians, or something of the sort.
The terrible truth is I don't care for anyone in either family, including the people who adopted me. And the truth that they would never admit because it just wouldn't be the Christian thing to do is they really don't like me either. The "mom" cannot be around me for more than two minutes without trying to convince me of my evil ways, and to come to the Jesus side of life. She has said to me on many occasions that she "is worried for my soul" because I'm not saved or don't go to church, or whatever Christian thing she feels I need to do.
The older I get, the more I see how much I'm like my real mom, and I wonder what it would be like to have someone to talk to who thinks more like me. I just have this void that I'm starting to realize has been haunting me for so long.  I feel like I've tried so many things to fill that void, and not only has nothing worked, but most things I've tried have been extremely self destructive. I can't fill the void, but I can try to heal the pain, and find some way to forgive myself, my family, my other family, and find peace with myself, and my situation.
I guess that might be the direction I take with this blog. When you can't afford therapy, start a blog. I already feel like a little pressure has been released, and I haven't even gotten to the nitty gritty yet.
I've spent so many years of my life in denial that this adoption had any kind of negative impact on my life, trying to be like everyone else with more traditional families, and I just don't want to anymore.
So, to wrap this up for the day, I guess expect to see some hashing out about my life, and choices and such.

These Three Things

I still have a very long way to go on my journey to health and inner happiness and peace, but I also have come a long way from where I was. The things I've done to myself and the abuse I've put myself through is pretty scary to me. Sometimes I come across people who are stuck in similar unhealthy patterns as I used to be, and I just feel so grateful I was able to grab on to that desire to change. Some people never do.That has always been one of my biggest fears in life. To become one of those super bitter people who has nothing nice, and everything nasty to say about everything and everyone. An energy vampire. I always feel like why bother once you get to that point. I've tried all kinds of things to help me on my journey. Many have not stuck, but some have. I just wanted to talk about three things I've been doing, one for awhile two are newer additions to my routine, but all three are really working together, and I can feel it.
The first is working out. I have been doing yoga for years, and for the longest time yoga and walking to and from wherever I go were my main workouts. For about the past year or so I've been doing all sorts of workouts, including a lot more cardio. I workout at home, so my living room and YouTube are my gym and trainer. There are so many different workouts on YouTube, I never get bored. I feel not only physically stronger, but sharper mentally. I don't do anything too crazy, a lot of the cardio I do is low impact, but I flirt with a few HIIT workouts here and there. I just feel better after doing them. I feel stronger, and I like that I naturally focus on how good I feel, not so much what it's doing for my body, looks-wise. Yoga is still my favorite, I do it 3to 4 times a week, and other things the other days. It's really been working out for me. Ouch, I had to I'm sorry!
The second is meditating. I only do it for five minutes a day and it has made a difference that surprises me constantly. I feel a natural gratitude now for things that I used to take for granted, and I'm able to shake things off so much easier than I used to. I honestly never thought meditation would work for me. I never thought you could get the benefit even if you have trouble keeping your mind clear. I struggle so hard, some days my mind never clears for the whole meditation! But yet stuff is happening. The biggest surprise to me is that I am becoming more patient, even with myself! I was doing a thirty day meditation challenge, then decided to do another thirty, but to be honest I think it's just going to be a part of my life. I am a believer for sure.
The third thing I've been doing that has made a huge positive impact on my life is making myself walk up that hill. It's so much less about the actual walk, and more about making myself stick with my commitment to myself. I feel so damn proud of myself when I trudge out there in the rain, when I really, really don't want to. It's the best feeling in the world. Especially because I'm doing it just for me. No one told me to, no one is keeping track, it's just for me. I have cried when I'm walking, I've laughed, I just feel like it is an important part of my journey.
I'm learning that you have to commit to yourself. A very long time I go I saw a clip of the Oprah show, and she said that often times we make and keep our promises to other people, we feel bad when we break promises to others, but we break promises to ourselves all the time without a second thought. That really hit home with me, and I want to break that pattern within myself.

Changing It Up a Bit

I've been trying to figure out what direction I'm taking this blog in for awhile now. When I first started it I thought it was going to be a place where I ranted about my exes. I do talk about past relationships, but I guess I haven't felt like ranting as much as I thought. I've come to the conclusion that it's because I really don't blame my exes for much. Yes, almost all of them are a bunch of complete wankers, and anyone with a shred of self esteem would have run the other way, but what can you do. They were just doing what we are all doing. Living life. Like I said, someone who isn't aggressively self destructive would have never even known these guys. So I feel like I've been and will continue to do more ranting about myself.
I realized the other day that I am so pent up with things that I want to say, and feelings that I need to work through and no one to say anything to. I mean, no one like a therapist, or someone who will really hear me, and listen, and not tell me that I shouldn't feel the way I feel. I feel like I've been told I shouldn't feel the way I do so many times in my life, and it never stops irritating me.
I'm going to talk about things I need to hash out, and things that are maybe uncomfortable. Something I've learned is sometimes just knowing someone is or has gone through something similar to what your dealing with, even if it's a stranger it can make you feel less alone, and let you know that you aren't totally weird.
I guess what I'm saying is this blog is going to be like my therapy that I can't afford. Maybe writing things and working it out in my head will help. I don't think it will hurt.
Here goes embarrassing story number one. There is a couple who vlog on YouTube every day. They have been doing this for awhile now, and I watch their vlog every morning. It's become an important part of my morning routine. And every once in awhile I cry at some point in the video because they are so compatible, and supportive and just loving with each other. I don't  really cry because I want a relationship now, I cry because I think of how I've never had that, and I think of how much I've never felt supported, or cared about, or respected. I've never had a relationship where I can be free of worry of cheating, or abuse of some kind, or just nothing good. I just want to go back in time and hug myself. I also didn't experience a lot of positive, mutually supportive relationships growing up. I've come to realize I have daddy issues, mommy issues, and all the issues. I spent so long trying to deny I had any of these issues. It would have been much more productive to admit my issues, work through them and move on. But that's what I'm going to do now. The first step to anything is admitting it.
I don't know if anything I talk about here will be of any interest to anyone, or be of any help, but I know it will help me.
I might play around with  a name change, I haven't gotten that far yet. I know that not a lot of people are reading this blog, but for the few that are, I just want to say thanks, and I hope it stays interesting!

Going All In

I made these myself!

You may wonder why I have a picture of my veggie sushi rolls from last night. These rolls are quite an accomplishment, and believe it or not, I believe I owe it to meditation. I tried to make sushi a few months ago, before I was meditating, and let's just say the end result was not pretty. I watched several how to videos, and just failed in every single way.
Well, yesterday I was out and about and I walked by a million and one sushi places. I was tempted to stop and get some take out veggie rolls, but I also remembered that I had sushi rice, nori wraps, tofu and a red pepper at home. I decided to give sushi making another shot, and as you can see the rolls aren't perfect, but they are pretty dang good. I just felt calm, and focused when I was making these rolls. I didn't work it up into a big, monumental deal in my mind. And most important, I didn't sit there telling myself this was going to be a failure.
There have been several other small shifts I've noticed in myself that are only happening because of meditation, and also because I'm open to change, crave it, desire it. Times I've caught myself showing more patience towards myself, or other beings, or also situations. I need to start carrying around a notebook so I can write them down.
I have always been somewhat of a skeptic when it comes to self help feel good kind of stuff. I guess I always felt like maybe it works for other people, but definitely not me. I feel so differently now. The thing about it is you have to commit to feeling good. Other times I would half ass it. I would quit drinking for a week, but not smoking. Or vice versa, and jus other self destructive habits. I never was willing to really go for it. I'm certainly not doing everything I can do, but I am doing a lot. Like every single day, I am actively working on feeling and being the best I can be, and I can feel and see results.
Sushi forever!