Micki's Musings

I learned something new about myself last week in my personal finance class. It had less to do with finances and more to do with another of those dark spaces I need to clean out that I didn't realize existed: I struggle to ask for help for myself not just because of pride, but because of fear. It's much more of a wall than I realized. I thought I was actually pretty good at asking for help. I asked for help with moving. I asked for help cleaning and organizing once during the midst of the chaos when my house was completely out of control. I asked for help with my yard when the weeds were taking over and my landlord was getting annoyed. I accepted help when my landlord offered to bring dinner three nights in a row when I was sick. I thought I knew how to accept help. I thought my pride was under control. But it's not. You see, I know how to ask for help, but I only will when I am truly drowning, and I really, really hate doing it. Not just the regular prideful stuff,

I've worked out of my latest funk. Literally. I have a friend who is in the same space as me as far as wanting to take better care of himself, and he and I are holding each other accountable. We're making it a contest. Last week I exercised half an hour a day for four days. This week my goal is to work out five days of the week. We're just making half an hour to breathe a little harder, get the heart beating a little faster, nothing major as far as lifestyle change or difficulty, but it still makes a big difference. It helps so much to have an accountability partner. For me, it helps for that accountability partner to be a cute guy I want to impress. *Insert smiley face and shrugging emoji here.* I know, I'm still fairly ridiculous, but if it works, I'm going to use it. I feel much more balanced again. Taking care of me doesn't feel like as much of a roadblock. My sister sent me an article called 6 Honest Reasons Why Self Care Is So Hard (and Can Feel Lousy).

I have completely fallen off the self-care wagon. Why is it so difficult for me to take care of me? I love myself, I truly do. I accept myself wholly and completely, the good, bad, light, dark, beautiful, broken, all of my pieces. I love me. Why can't my actions reflect that? It's an actual, deep kind of syndrome I currently have. I need to heal it. I thought I was doing really well. I've been going to activities and playing hard. The guilt is still there, that I "should" be spending more time with my kids or "should" be cleaning my house or blah blah blah. But I brush it aside and truly enjoy myself. But then the weekend ends and I still haven't worked out for a month and I still take the time to do the "make sure" things for others, but not for me. I've been sick all week. Like bad sick. I have a hacking, debilitating cough that literally brings me to my knees. All week, at night, I make sure to slather the kids in essential oils

I love people. I love getting to know them and making new friends. I love being social and going to activities and feeding off of energy. I love serving people. I love talking with people on a deeper level and sharing our hearts with each other. I love vulnerability. I love that I'm in a place now where I can differentiate between healthy versus unhealthy energy and protect myself accordingly while still loving in a safe way. A few weeks ago I made a new friend. She was a fleeting friend, one I only spoke with for a few minutes one day. She is also a single mom, recently divorced, and we shared just glimpses of our stories with each other. She shared how she is not dating right now in order to be there for her kids, how her kids have expressed that they like that it is just them and her, how they feel safe in that space. I told her that was wonderful she could provide that safe space for them, but that she also needed to recognize her own needs and take care of herself. She looke

High anxiety day today. Lots to do like always. Lots to think about like always. Spinning, though. Spinny spinny spinning. The whys: My Rogue streak might be cancer. Wish I knew for sure. Doctor appointment pending. I don't think it is, but my nurse friend said I should get it looked at. Why has no one else said anything until now? I found out it's a condition called poliosis and can be caused by a variety of things, most of which are benign, but one of the causes is cancer. I'm trying not to worry. Can't do anything about it right now, right? But it's in my brain, now. Literally, maybe. I'm poor. Dirt poor. I'm working so hard to cut expenses, but I can't make it through a month without incurring at least a teeny bit of debt, even with help with all kinds of things. I owe money for faculty dues, school fees for my daughter, my son wants to do the drama play this year. It's only twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five dollars might as well be a thousa

All the things again. Monday, I woke to discover 50 people had died in a mass shooting in Vegas. My sister lives in Vegas. My other sister and a bunch of my friends were in Vegas at a concert the night before the shooting, at the very hotel the shooter was found. Life. This afternoon, my student passed out in my arms and I had to leave her on the bathroom floor to run and get help. She's going to be okay, but my students are my babies and it scared me. This evening, a different student who had been fighting for her life this week joined her Heavenly Father. I lost one of my babies and my heart hurts. Oh yeah, and my friend asked me to marry him. Men. All the life things. I'm glad it was an at-home day today. I don't get those very often, but I got to be at home today after school. I cried for my student and her family; I shook my head at people and relationships and how messy they are. I considered what I can do to save the world. How to spread light and love. How

I'm experiencing a perspective shift. A new phase is beginning for me. After the ex's latest attack, after my latest trigger, I made some decisions. I shall no longer fear him. I shall no longer see him as a monster. I've wanted this perspective shift for some time, now. I've been working toward it, conscientiously striving to forgive and be realistic in my perceptions of who and what he truly is. I do not minimize his problems or make excuses for him. He is still mentally ill, but I can finally truly see that he has only the power that I give to him. I also see that my children are more powerful in the wisdom and insight they've gained. They are strong enough to handle him. I still wish they didn't have to be. I still wish my children had a healthy father who could be a safe, reliable space, but wishing for things does not make them real. Instead of wishing for what is not, I shall use the power of what is. Now, I shall encourage my children to be an example

The universe has a way of keeping things in balance. I've learned this and life tends to make sure I never forget it. I had a few weeks of calm, of peace, so of course, in come the storms, both literal and figurative.  Tropical storms, earthquakes, fires, wars and rumors of wars leaving such destruction. My dear friend finding out she has stage three cancer. My student in the hospital with a life-threatening illness. My ex having another episode, blaming me for his problems, and taking me to court again. So many in such conflict politically, emotionally, physically. Chaos. Utter chaos. Yesterday, I trembled with the weight of it. I literally trembled, my body convulsing with the battle that raged within me. My old instincts tell me to break and run and be afraid. My new instincts know I have all the powers and nothing to fear. Of course this comes, now. I was in the eye of the storm for a while. The winds buffeted me a little bit, but I laughed at them because they had no power.

It's been nice getting to know you. I thought I knew you before, but I was only acquainted with your surface. Now, as I've come to know your deep and dark recesses, you've also shown me the heights of your beauty and grandeur. My senses are more acute, my insights more broad. Sunsets are more vibrant and foods taste more delicious. Spending time with my children and my family feeds my soul once again. I feel and see and hear so much more than I used to. I live, now. I don't merely survive. The other day, I sat on the back porch of my friend's home waiting for him to finish a project. He has a wall of boulders in his backyard and I felt like climbing them, so I did. This week is Homecoming week at my school and each day is a different dress-up day. I felt like dressing up in crazy outfits along with the students, so I did. At a restaurant the other night there was a table full of teenage girls wearing animal costumes next to us. I felt like making friends with them

I'm not afraid to be in my own head anymore. For a while, a long while, I could only feel safe in my own head when I was writing. The rest of the time I ran away from my head. Too many thoughts, feelings, too much spinning. I didn't realize how much I ran away from my own head until I stopped. I live 45 minutes away from the nearest city. Yesterday, I drove all the way down to town and all the way back in silence. I used to always need distraction: music, listening to stories, chatting on the phone. None of those things are unhealthy, but I used them to distract, to run away. Yesterday, on my way to and from town, I thought about life, people, dreams, God. I thought about what I want to have, who I want to be. I thought about how to get and be those things. I remember things better, now, too. I remember things on my list that I forgot.   I remember things people tell me about themselves. I remember to think of others in general. There is more space in my head when I spend

Yesterday, I was finally able to get the rest of my belongings from my old home. It's a beautiful home. My dream home, in fact. I designed it, with a very open floor plan, a huge pantry, a massive kitchen island. The colors are deep and peaceful and warm. There's a gas fireplace that's very cozy in the winters, and lots of windows to let in the natural light. The bedrooms are large, and the master closet is a walk-in wonder. The back yard opens up to the mountains, and it feels like a limitless play space for fun and exploration. I love that home. I put my soul into that home. And now, it's gone along with everything else connected to that life I once thought I was going to have. Yesterday, as the amazing crowd of helpers swooped through and helped me box and load all of mine and the kids' belongings, I stepped into an empty bedroom and cried. It hurts when dreams die. There is a quote by Elder Holland that I keep going back to over and over and over aga

I figured it out. I thought I was going through withdrawals from men and that was why I was depressed. And I was going through withdrawals, but not necessarily from people. I was--am--going through withdrawals from fixing. I sank into another pretty deep depression for a bit. This one lasted a couple of weeks and I'm just now sloughing it off. One of the keys to figuring out my way out of it was understanding the why of it. I'm big on understanding. One of the best ways I have to figure out the whys is by talking with my safe people. I had begun depending on unsafe people too often, the ones who are confusing and shift back and forth and around and I'm not sure where I stand with them. I love all of my friends, but some are more safe than others. I had been trying to feel safe and peaceful with the ones who aren't the safest and most peaceful. Finally, I remembered my safest spaces and reached out to them instead. And it worked. During one conversation with a

I'm ready to fall in love. Really, truly, completely, unconditionally. I'm ready to fall in love with my own life. I'm tired of trying to find someone to complete me. I told myself I wasn't doing that. I told myself I was feeling whole and healthy and was ready to find someone else to enrich my life, but not complete it. I lied to myself. Until I don't feel like I need  him, I won't find him. I'm still too desperate for affection too often. I still get depressed when I don't have a special someone who messages me daily or wants to see me. I still constantly just get let down by those people over and over again. I've been slowly taking a step back from all that, slowly giving less and less energy to that scene. I don't message them back very often. I don't seek after any attention, and they eventually stop trying to give me any energy as well. Yesterday, I didn't get a single message from any of them. I told myself I was happy with

I broke two hearts this week. This dating thing is so messy. But, as always, I'm learning lots of things. I'm learning how to be cautious, but also authentic. I'm learning I don't have to return the same kind of energy I'm receiving from them if I don't feel like reciprocating it. I'm learning how to maintain my boundaries, and how it's not worth it when I don't. I'm learning to finally internalize the lesson that consistently maintaining my own boundaries, even when I don't want to, honors others as well. It's hard work, though, to remember these things. But I feel good about myself. I'm glad that I am confident and genuine and kind and happy and fun. I'm glad that I am someone who is attractive to men. I feel flattered when they keep coming around, even when I have told them it's not going to work out. But it also makes me sad. I feel sad that they keep coming back because they can't find anything else that

2/21/17 I can't sleep and I can't figure out why. I'm on day five of tossing and turning all night long. I'm not dealing with higher than normal levels of stress in any area of my life as far as I can tell. I'm feeling better, being there more for my kids, staying off social media more often, creating and maintaining healthy boundaries with people in my life, including men. I'm feeling more stable and whole. I'm eating better, exercising kind of regularly. I'm dealing with the ex without huge anxieties. But I lay awake at night with these disjointed thoughts that, to my logical mind, don't really impact me too much. I am fighting an internal battle that I do not understand. I'm trying to write it out to work it out, but I don't know what it is. Things are good. Things are okay. Why can't my mind recognize that? Is this some kind of new level of depression? Are my chemicals imbalancing in some new way? If so, why? 2/22/17 I had

Wow, what a ride. This life. It's so fascinating, topsy turvy, all around. What a week. Last weekend, I attended another amazing seminar where I learned some great tools to overcoming fear and taking control of my own happiness and peace. And boy have I been tested on it this week. Not in any really big ways. No huge trials or attacks. Kind of. But little things, chip, chip, chipping away at me. Continuing to deal with legal mumbo jumbo. Continuing to deal with people who misunderstand and judge. Continuing to deal with men. Continuing to try and find balance in taking care of me and giving my kids what they need and teaching us all how to be happy and healthy and safe. Good things happen every day. Happy things happen every day. I must continue to draw lines and enforce boundaries. But even as I fight to maintain my footing and progress, I feel off-kilter again. Something is swirling and stirring up inside of me. The last two nights I have not been able to sleep. That hasn

The world is weary. Put your ear to the earth and listen. You can hear her softly sighing. Sometimes she groans with the weight of us And shrugs her shoulders to make us move. She is restless. She tires of our petty raging and selfish angst. Her soil soaks up our tears And her sky absorbs our screams. She is engorged with our suffering And wants to purge. But instead Her soil sprouts green grass and tall trees Through our weeping. Her winds sweep our screams away And the sun shines through the clouds. She rolls beneath our anger and sorrows To show us a new day. She carries our weight Holding the burden of humanity And ever gives. Today, I felt like the world. The fog has been persistently rolling in lately, and I've been fighting it off again. But a deluge of "stuff" weighed me down today. Frustration, loneliness, heartache, mourning. I needed some cry time. So I took it. Then I found an article online with a beautiful perspective shift: &quo

Drama has slightly abated, so real life has begun to settle in. That's okay with me. I continue to have energy and stamina to care more about "normal" things--until I drain myself because I still suck at self-care. But I made some goals. Nothing huge. Nothing unrealistic. I have an idea of where I want  to be, but that is not where I am right now, and that's okay, too. Even if I get to my "ideal," I will not stay there permanently, because I am human and life is cyclical and I am striving for progress, not perfection. My main goals are big things. I have a main spiritual goal, a main physical goal, and a main temporal (financial) goal. In order to get to my main goals, I have created steps. I haven't listed out all of my steps, just the first one. The first step is all I want to focus on right now, so it is the only one I have listed. I wrote down my goals and my step 1s. I will work on those. Once I feel like I have attained some level of consiste