Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Conquer Abuse by Overwriting Your Thought Process


My childhood best friend puts on a brave face. But those puffy eyes and cracking voice tell the story of how she's really doing since her ex drove into that cement wall at over 100mph leaving her without child support or alimony, desperately looking for a job and a mess of his lawsuits to clean up.

"Want to know how many interviews I've had? Over twenty. Want to know how many job offers? None. NONE." 'Shelly's exasperation melts into defeat.

I've had a front row seat to her decade-long relationship, and it's demise, from the beginning.


Seeing his abuse eat away at Shelly's confidence, self-worth, motivation, and even her desire to shave her legs--my anger is so intense the smoke billowing from my ears turns as red as my hair. With each story, more outrageous than the last, fire heats my body.

Singing 'Earl' by the Dixie Chicks usually calms us both down, but not enough this time.

We didn't have to take any drastic measures. Her Earl didn't 'walk right through the restraining order', he put himself in intensive care.

Watching her scramble to pick up the pieces, I want to smack her.

That sounds counterproductive seeing as how she just got out of an abusive relationship, and abuse infuriates me to the point of erupting.


Her inner voice is now overwritten and instead of fighting through the hard like she used to, she jumps to conclusions and magnifies the negative, and is taking on the shape of Eyore himself!

Renee Jain calls these "thought holes" or "skewed perceptions of reality." In her article, talking about 8 holes that people create for themselves, Shelly falls into all of them. (Mental filtering, Personalising, Emotional Reasoning, Etc) Making it difficult to walk in a straight line or see the good coming from the tragedy.

My smacking her is to get all those perceptions of reality back into their original place. To find her fighting spirit. To, as Renee Jain calls it "paint an accurate picture and get back to original thoughts." I hear Husband's parents' voices in my head, more than my parents' after their abuse, and can empathize with Shelly and work along side her on overwriting our thought processes.

Both rewrites haves me so angry--Shelly's ex rewired her to be paranoid, and negative, and victimized. Husband's parents rewrote me to be submissive to the point of a drinking bird.


No more.

No more white flags of surrender.

No more drinking water!

Let's hear that battle cry.

You are conquering something astronomical friends. Just the acknowledgment alone is a win. Each battle cry you sound and old abusive thought you overwrite, you step higher. Reaching that goal--whatever your goal may be. And coming into your own, being free from abuse, negative thoughts, and hairy legs.

Keep going, you're doing great!


Please follow this blog or facebook and we can journey together. Whatever you are going through, the journey's more fun with friends.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Piano Guys Fight Song

I mentioned the Piano Guys cover of Fight Song on my facebook page. Here's the video. Amazing.

Piano Guys: Fight Song


Again, no affiliate. Just something that reaches my soul and inspires, and I love to share.

Splinters--My symbol of everything

Standing in the middle of my kitchen, looking at the water damage, the rancid smell of old house and old mold wafting under my nose, and invisioning that nest must have been the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (based on its size), I knew, in that moment that my marriage wasn't as broken as it appeared.
Completely backwards, considering everything I was looking at was broken.
Nevertheless, the house became what it started out for me.

A symbol of everything. The pain. The healing. The s%@!t (literal mouse feces). The splinters. The safety. The waiting. Everything.

And with each whack and scrape, I saw in my mind's eye parts of me that are broken, breaking, or needing to be remodeled. And I cried. There in my overalls and tennis shoes I cried like this:

(only not nearly as cute)

Knowing that things with my marriage can (crossing fingers) be rebuilt. And things within me can be fixed. And all the old crap can be taken out with the refuge when the trash man comes again.

This journey has been a lonely one. I'd love to journey with friends. Please follow this blog or you can follow me on facebook and we can journey together. Whatever you are going through (everybody has their stuff). Let's journey together.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

I love Trash

Confession: I love trash.

Not in an Oscar the Grouch kind of way though. I don't enjoy living amongst it.

I get super excited for trash day. And for a sight like this.

I'm thinking that is kind of weird...but I'm ok with it. I find it cleansing.

I even sneak trash into neighbor's trash cans after they've put them out. Ours is over flowing and there is no more room, so I fill up theirs a little more...I also think this is weird...Husband does too...but I'm ok with that too.

I'm going to think of this as being excited to get rid of trash in my life. Be it people. Cluttery stuff. Water damaged wood. Damaged emotions. Whatever the garbage is, I want it gone. I don't have room for garbage. Literal or figurative. (Though I think I'll stop there...because I really don't want to pawn figurative garbage off onto unsuspecting innocents...)

Monday, September 11, 2017

Power Tools Give You Power

I reached it.

My limit.

Things in the kitchen were moving along great again and we hit another wall. (Not literally...those literal walls we take out whenever possible.) Things stalled then fizzled. I've been living in a kitchen with gross glue-covered subflooring, studs, and no ceiling for almost a year now.

I need it done.

I don't know what the hang up is this time. But I need things to keep moving forward. I don't care the speed. They can inch forward for all I care. But I need movement.

So, I took matters into my own hands.

I think that is one of the things I've lost in my battle against the abuse and the struggle with Husband's addiction. Losing many parts of myself. But the one I miss the most is the capable part. The part that looks at something and just gets it done.

I grew up with a dad who traveled a ton. But when he wasn't traveling we were working. But it was awesome. I learned how to work hard...and love it. I was using power tools at a super young age (safely). And that is what I want for my kids. The freedom that comes with capability. To look at something and not just hope it will someday happen...but grab that drill or saw or impact driver and get it done.

Husband's parents were not like that. And I don't know how it happened, but I allowed them (and partially Husband, because it was the culture he was raised in) to take it from me, my capability and my own power. It angers me to the core. But no more. They will not have that power.

Sidenote: it's amazing what power tools can do for a depressed soul...