My first book – Conversations With My Therapist

I wrote a book that touches on many of the common issues of women today. It’s not written just for women it’s just that I am one, a woman. I speak on abuse, both emotional and physical, divorce, and abortion. I show the reader my transformation from a timid lost girl to a woman with power. I let the reader experience my feelings and thoughts throughout the process. My goal is to empower others to find their own strength.

I’m new to publishing, and once in awhile I feel a streak of fear run through my system; but, my story is the same as many others’ and the world needs it. The more people who know the secrets and the better others understand, then maybe it can stop. Maybe reading my story will help another escape his or her hell. Maybe.

Please let me know if you’re interested. I’m an open book now.

Thank you for reading,

me

conversations with my therapist

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My Book – Conversations with my Therapist – A Path To Freedom

Imagine for yourself what it would be like to be free. Truly free. I allow you to be like a fly on the wall listening to the many conversations I had with my therapist. You get to read my mind as I go through some of the most intimidating, intimate, and private times of my life.

I’ve never written a book before now. It was definitely a daunting task. I believe, though, that all of my time and energy was more than worth it. May you be blessed in your journey.

Below is a link to my book, it’s available through Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2/135-8495823-2278467?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Conversations+with+my+therapist

thank you for reading,

My book is finally done!

It’s done! My book is finally finished awaiting publishing. I’ve been writing it for five years, but only knew that I was writing it for a little over one year. That’s what happens when you journal. My journallings have been a consistent way for me to get my thoughts out of my head. With so many things going on, my head was noisy! I could barely hold a single thought longer than a few seconds, my thoughts would race from one event to another and I couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep. Journalling provided my means of escape.

My book? It’s a good book. It still makes me cry, smile, and laugh. It brings back terrible memories yet provides proof of how amazing my life is now. It shows how a person can climb her way out of chaos and create a life that she loves. It provides proof that life is changeable, no matter your age. If I can do it so can you. It shows determination, fear, love, peace, and hate. It is my first written masterpiece and I’m excited that it’ll finally be published.

I will let you know how to purchase it, hopefully within the next week. It’s terrifying letting my secrets out of my closet for millions to read. Yet it is so freeing, knowing that I can be authentically me. No more hiding, no more lies, just me. Thank you for being a sounding board as I struggled to find my way to air. May you, my readers, be blessed beyond your wildest dreams.

thank you for reading,

me

My how life has changed!

Over the past several years I have struggled to learn more about me and about everything else, but mostly me. I decided to go to back to school where I struggled daily just trying to keep up. I learned how to use my brain again, how to remember things, and how to apply what I’ve learned. Most importantly I learned how to breathe again.

As a child each of us has a natural instinct to try new things, learn everything, touch anything, and test what works and doesn’t work. We are free like the wind and it’s all our parents can do to rein us in so that we don’t get hurt. As children our dreams are huge; president, astronaut, pilot, save the world… As we grow we fight for it and often lose to the mundanity of life. We forget who we really are and who we really want to be.

As a child I never thought I would be a pharmacist, my goal was to save the world. I was going to find the cure for HIV and end that disease forever. I had high hopes and I even worked in that field for a little while. Not once did I think I would become a pharmacist.

The years passed, I had kids, lived a ‘normal’ life and just plodded along. I began to notice that things didn’t make sense anymore. I began to see that there were skeletons hanging everywhere, not just in people’s closets. It became obvious that things were off. Dreams had been squashed, projects unfinished, hopes discarded, and life was almost unbearable.

I decided to make a change. I went back to school. While schooling I still held certain beliefs in my gut. I didn’t believe that I was smart, or that I had any power whatsoever. My belief in me was below that of a snail. I had rather be hurt than let another and so I entered school as a mouse in a trap. I was timid, careful, untrusting, and above all other things scared. I had no idea who I really was or how I was supposed to be or act.

Now? Five years have gone by. Five amazing, event filled years! I have cried, screamed, dreamed, and even thought about killing myself. I continued though. There was always just a little something, a little spark somewhere inside, that wouldn’t let me quit. I would grit my teeth, wipe my eyes, blow my nose, and keep on going. I wanted to quit, I wanted to hide, I wanted to just disappear more times than I can count.

Sometimes I did disappear. Once in a while I would take off for a weekend and come back a little better. What, though, did I learn? I learned: I am smart, I am beautiful, I can do this, I do deserve good things, and I am important. How did I learn all of this? One tiny, awful, step at a time. One bruise, scratch, head ache, sleepless night, at a time. The tiniest of motion forward despite all of the negativity. I just stayed in motion, no matter what.

If I could help you with one thing, by telling you the thing that made the biggest impact? What would it be? Would it be study harder? Sleep less? No. On the contrary, it would be rest. Rest often. Stop, be still, breathe. Smell the flowers and watch the sun set. Life is worth living, take the time to enjoy it. It sums up as one thing, take care of yourself.

The biggest lesson I have learned is to take care of me. I hope that you will join me in life by remembering to take care of you. You deserve it, you are smart, you are beautiful, you are important. It’s true, you are.

thank you for reading,

me

Experimenting with Nightmares

I love my life. I love how I get to choose who I speak to and who I spend time with. I like that my kids want to be with me and I love the opportunity to be with them as they grow up. I even love that I’m in school, loving more that school is almost done. I love it all. My life is amazing. Yet… I still feel the sting, burn, of my past.

I had hoped that I could establish a ‘friendly’ relationship with my ex. I set myself out to be kind, to learn to speak of small things, to chat while waiting for the kids. Two or more times I put myself out there, allowed myself to be just a tad more vulnerable, allowed myself to ignore my feelings of fear, of abandonment, and of abuse. I thought, since all of the legal mumbo jumbo had finally ended, that I’d be able to show a positive forward movement for my kids to see. I want them to have the best in their lives. I don’t want them to see me complaining or whining. I want them to see me strong, brave, and willing to ‘make amends’ for their benefit. I wanted to see if I could handle it, you know, test the waters.

I started to get grouchy, I started having nightmares again, I began to feel tired all of the time. I got sick. I felt overwhelmed, lost, and scared. My old feelings began to resurface and I finally caught on. I wasn’t ready. ‘The way to get over a fear is to immerse yourself in it.’ I believe that’s true. I, however, don’t think I’m going to ever get over the abuse. In fact, I don’t think I’m supposed to. What happened to me in my past has shaped who I am, and I like who I am. I have an empathy for those who have walked similar paths. I care in a way that allows others to grow. By allowing that my past is real, by remembering I didn’t make it up, by knowing that he was plain evil to me, and it wasn’t my imagination; I have the opportunity to be truly who I am meant to be.

I have a habit of slighting myself. I don’t give myself credit for the things I’ve accomplished. I have belittled myself, and spoken words to myself that no one should ever hear. That needs to change. The power I gain by remembering who I am, by being honest to myself, and others; that power is mine for the taking. I am the one who was there. I was the one who packed up the kids to hide. I was the one who collected rent money near midnight alone. I was the one who faced the fury of our neighbors. I was the one who slept with the kids when they were ill. I was the one who manged the house, the bills, the schooling and numerous other things. I was the one who earned the respect of my kids. He was not.

He was the one who pouted when he didn’t get his way, he was the one who whined and who gave up. He was the one who couldn’t decide if he was happy, sad, or angry. He was the one who sat and cleaned his gun, who left in the middle of the night, who left me crying at church. He was the one who went to sleep rather than see that I made it home safe from working an extra serving job. He was the one who didn’t care that I had hit a deer at one in the morning. He was the one who pushed me against the wall, who held me too tight and bruised my arms, who pushed his son into the door, who punched his nephew in the stomach, him.

I spent too much time in his presence. I saw him on Tuesday and came home remembering how awful it was. Although he didn’t touch me, I could still feel the weight of his body and the slime of his skin on me. I could still smell him and it affected me. This isn’t a problem that time is going to fix. What he did while we were together was wrong, always will be wrong. I will not be subjecting myself to making things better again. This new strength and freedom that I have found must be protected. He does not have the right to real estate in my head, let alone my body.

I was snappy, sarcastic, and rude to my family that night. They had done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve to be the brunt of my emotions. True, I didn’t realize why I felt the way I did, but now I do. In order to protect my family, I need to protect myself; and that includes putting my kids’ dad back into the little box in my head that he belongs. The test of strength, the test to see if I could deal with him? That was a success, not a failure. I have learned, I can be cordial, friendly and kind; but I don’t have to do it unnecessarily. I have a right to protect who I am and who I am becoming. We all have that right.

thank you for reading,

me

Movie Night

It’s a Tuesday night and so I’m home alone. I’ve gotten used to not having the kids around all of the time. It isn’t always easy, though. I remember that first weekend when I didn’t get to keep them and they had to go to their dad’s. That was awful. My youngest was crying, hysterical, that she didn’t want to go. The other was okay with it but you could tell he didn’t like the way things were turning out. He kept thinking that he could somehow fix things. I think he still feels that way sometimes.

I often plan things now, when I know they won’t be home. Things with friends or out to the movies. Sometimes just staying home. Today I kept busy with school things and bills and planning my future. I even sent out an application for a job. About seven tonight I realized I needed to spend some time relaxing and take care of the me part of me. So I shut my computer and looked up a movie on Netflix.

I chose an older movie. I might have seen it before, but if I did I don’t remember. Life has a way of making things disappear. I pulled up Shawshank Redemption. Yup. What was I thinking? I was afraid to watch it lest I cry, or that it might be extraordinarily violent. I can’t stand violent films. And emotional films? Let’s just say, I will cry for anything. No matter. I sat down with my home-made chicken soup (I made it yesterday because I was scared I was getting the flu… was exposed rather well Monday morning…) So I sat down with my bowl of soup, some buttered toast and a glass of wine. The house was dark, no one home but me. Magnificent.

I sat there, watching the movie, finding a smile on my face or a tear in my eye. Just letting myself be however I might be. Hope? Yes, hope, sums up the entire movie. Never give up hope. Either get busy dying or get busy living. I guess I’ve gotten busy living, lately. I ain’t got time to die yet, there’s just too much left I want to do. From what I’ve heard, dying ain’t so bad once your dead. But, like I said, it’s time to live still and that’s my plan. No matter what you believe, if your heart’s still beating, you’ve got a reason to live.

What did I think of the movie? Definitely one worth watching, and I’m glad I did. I’d watch it again and I don’t say that often. There’s just too much to see and to read to bother repeating myself, but Shawshank Redemption? I’d do it again.

thank you for reading,

me

Love. How Do I Protect Myself?

Love? Is that what it is? I’m not blind. I can see clearly. I can see your pain and it hurts me. I can see your fear and I become fearful. I pushed you away because I cannot handle it. Your fear, pain, and disappointment. Your hopelessness and your trauma. I can not be with you longer than a few minutes before you rub off on me. How can I help you to see the beauty and the miracles that surround us both? How can I help you to appreciate the small things in life? I don’t know how. Not yet. And so I distance myself. I am unable to handle so much negative emotion and so I leave you. Am I a failure for that? Am I wrong for leaving you in your hell so that I can climb out of mine?

As much as I hate my ex, I’m not blind to who he really is. All of my efforts to make things right, all of my efforts to fix the evils in that house were useless. I had to leave, he has to hit bottom before he will ever grow. We all do. I still see him as hurt and lost. I don’t think he sees it, though, and there’s nothing I can do about it. My time with him is over, he’s going to have to find someone else to help, or learn to help himself like I did.

I read. I read a lot. I read books on philosophy, on love, on dreams, and on money. I am in a constant state of learning, and because of this I am growing.

But it’s not just him, that I see. I see the stories behind the story. I see the angry old man and know that things were different when he was a child. I see the depressed woman and know that she once had dreams but now she’s given up on them all. I see the couple in debt who is afraid to dream for fear their dreams will never come true. I see the bedridden lady who refuses to become healthy because this is how she receives attention and she thinks if she weren’t ill that no one would love her. I see these. I also see the teen, who in her passion became pregnant. I know her fear and her embarrassment. I know what it’s like and how tragic life can become. I want to protect them all, I want to love them and to help them. But how? It hurts to allow their energy into my soul.

How can I protect myself from these? I isolate myself, pushing others away so that I can breathe. I run away to the water, to my boat, so that their energy does not reach me. Yet? As I take time to breathe, I cry. I let out my emotions so that they don’t control me. I let myself see God’s beauty in nature so that I can continue to see the beauty in those like these. For all are beautiful in their own way, yes all, even my ex. I love them and it hurts and so I take time for me.

thank you for reading,

me