Micki's Musings

It's testing time. In all the places, in all the ways, testing is happening. My students are taking tests. My students are testing me. Do I have enough patience to tolerate it all? Have I learned enough about boundaries to maintain my own sanity? I'm a bit of a weirdo when it comes to testing. It's extremely stressful to prepare for a difficult test, but then, once I get into the actual exam portion, I thrive. I feel almost disappointed when the exam is over. I often feel like I had even more to give, if only the instructor had pushed me a little harder. This happens in the cases where I'm well-prepared. If I'm not prepared, or if the test feels ridiculous because the instructor isn't any good, then I just do my best. I feel like life tests are more like the first kind. There is a really good instructor. He gives us all the material we need. Sometimes, though, I misunderstand the material or get distracted and don't prepare correctly. When I'm prepared a

I'm allowed to want things. For so much of my life, I maintained this mindset that denying myself the things that brought me joy somehow elevated my existence. I didn't feel like I was living according to God's will if I allowed myself to have what I wanted.  That's messed up. We're told to sacrifice, to deny the natural man, to have discipline. Yeah, we need to not commit sin in the name of self-care, but is it really God's will for me to be miserable all the time? Absolutely not. This mentality is still a factory setting for me, though. I still struggle to be comfortable doing what I want to do, especially  if it means putting myself before the needs or wants of other people. But I've been practicing. I'm moving. I didn't have a big revelation to move out of this tiny, sweet little town. I didn't have some vision of how uprooting my family from the one place they've had as a consistency in their lives would be a good thing, but small--and a

I've been working on killing Wonder Woman. I should rephrase that, though. The reality is less violent but still painful. It's probably more accurate to say I've been working on birthing myself. Some more. I've had a long battle with the dishes. It's been years of sinks piled high with embarrassing levels and layers of gunk. I'll get to the point where it's finally unbearable and take hours to tackle the mountain and get the sinks empty. I'll swear to myself it won't get to that point ever again. Just 15 minutes a day--or less--and it'll be taken care of. Just take 15 minutes a day. I can handle that. Before I know it, the mountain is back. This time, it was different. Over the last couple of weeks, I've dug away at the dishes again--not in one vengeful surge as is my usual custom, but bit by bit, 15 minutes here, half an hour there. They've piled up again just a little, and I've whittled them away a little more. Today, I washed the l

Wonder Woman isn't real. When I was younger, my siblings and I would tease one sister incessantly because of her gullibility. She would beg us to "be real" so she could identify what the truth was in our tricks. I feel a little bad about it now, to be honest. But what are older siblings and parents for if not to give people a reason for therapy, yes? Anywho... I'm having my own "be real" moments lately. I got very sick again, but this time it didn't take a few months of build-up. This time it took two weeks. Two whole weeks back at work and I was home-ridden for five days. This gave me quite a wake-up call. Wonder Woman must die. Time to be human. Except, I don't like to be human. I'm not very good at it. I only know how to kill myself for other people. That's the only space I feel like I'm worth existing in. I still struggle to live for myself. I've been making gobs of progress in self-care. The Miami trip taught me so much, and I

I still want to hate him.  Every time I have to say no to my kids because we can't afford something. Every time one of them has a panic attack. Every time one of them has to scramble to find a father figure for an activity. Every time one of them has a flashback or gets depressed or is afraid. I want to blame him, and I want to hate him. I want to roll up the anger into a ball and ram it through his heart and watch him disintegrate with the power and weight of all the destruction and pain. I want him to truly feel and know what he's caused and what he's lost. I want to deeply feel this so I can sit in it and own it and process it and release it. But when I try to really get there, I can only see him as what he really is. I can only see him as a terrified little boy who is so afraid of himself and of the world that he won't ever face it or fix it or acknowledge it. When I really try to hate him, I just feel sorry for him. I feel robbed of something. I feel like I haven&#

Miami was amazing. It was healing, powerful, exciting, relaxing, and replenishing. I learned so much and had some important realizations. Things started off really rough, which was a sign of how important and necessary this trip was for me. The adversary did not want it to happen. My parents were taking me to the airport, and we got stuck in standstill traffic on the freeway for hours because of an accident. I missed my flight. This was extremely disheartening because it seemed to fit the destructive mindset I frequently maintained: bad things happen when I put myself first. However, with encouragement from my parents and after a few tears, I found a later flight and barely made it in time. But I made it. I didn't feel any trepidation or stress about being alone. I don't fear people or the world in general. It felt liberating more than anything. I only had to take care of myself. What a strange, exhilarating feeling it was. I made it to my hotel and got changed for the beach. I

“I love you,” I tell her. She asks, “Why?” I can’t grasp just one reason in the geyser of thoughts that come to mind   a shy smile, spontaneous laugh determination, ambition  honesty and insight an independent spirit and intelligent mind adorable quirks and quick wit the first time seeing her slimy, screaming face and thinking she was the most beautiful thing in the world “I love you,” I say, “for all of the reasons, and even if those reasons all go away. You don’t have to do anything to earn my love for you. It will always be there, forever and ever.” Just exist, Boo, and I love you.

I can still hear that little girl inside of me trying to say something. I still can't figure out exactly what it is she's trying to say. I like that she isn't giving up, though. I'm determined to hear her, and she's determined to be heard. It's been another crazy week. I've been prepping the students for testing, administering the testing, and working on planning for my trip. All the spare evening moments have been spent with my family because my sister is in town that we never get to see. The family part isn't stressful. It's fun. But it also hasn't allowed for many quiet moments. I was supposed to start taking more quiet moments. I haven't been sleeping well again. I toss and turn and have bad dreams. It's annoying. This morning has been my first opportunity all week to breathe a little bit, and my body is crashing again because I didn't give it a break again. I woke up with a cold sore. My cough is coming back a little bit. I meant

This picture is full of love.  I’m still struggling to get rid of my cough, so I stayed home and watched church on TV today, but many gathered in person, and I felt their joy in that gathering.  I sipped some ginger honey lemon tea to soothe my throat, using a mug I received from a loving (and hilarious) friend. (Still have no idea who sent it to me.)  I cuddled with a blanket I received from another sweet friend. I enjoyed my cute manicure done for me by some other sweet friends. I feel God’s love through the messages he gives and the angels he sends.  These peaceful moments seem too few and far between. I'll seek them more often. It’s nice to feel love and feel loved. 

I am learning. Little by little the layers are falling away, and my vision is becoming more clear. I had a really nice weekend. I didn’t think it was going to be as nice as it was, because I’m still very sick. There’s something about the sunshine, the water, that rejuvenates me. I’ll be feeling miserable, and then step outside, and immediately I can breathe. Sunshine feeds me. Nature feeds me. Water fuels me, more than I ever realized before. I need this. I have to figure out how to get it more often. I spent time with my girlfriends this weekend, and my dear friend did a reiki session on me. It helped. I feel less burdened. I also feel more determined, like I have clearer vision for what I need to do. It includes meditation, stillness. I have to give my mind a break. I felt a deeper connection with my Heavenly Father than I have felt in a long time. I also felt my angels on the other side of the veil. They’re close. They’re always close. I need to seek stillness. I need to make it int

I'm really sick. It was inevitable. I keep doing this to myself. Running myself into the ground until my body forces me to stop because I won't stop on my own. Except I couldn't stop this week. I've been sick since Monday, but I've still been trucking along. Because I'm a lunatic. I did take Tuesday off of work. I woke up Tuesday morning and could barely walk, so I called in sick. Teaching has to be one of the worst jobs to call in sick, because I still had to prepare a lesson plan with my fuzzy brain, all the while knowing that it will pretty much be a waste of a class period anyway because other people aren't as invested as I am in getting the students to learn what they need to learn. I still had to go to work Tuesday night because literally no on else can do my ACT prep job. To call in sick there is to reschedule and reorganize lots of people, and possibly lose money for the college, so I muscled through Tuesday night, sick. I muscled through Wednesday d

General Conference helped this weekend. It gave me an opportunity to be still. To listen. To focus. To remember. I remembered a little bit why I care. I remembered a little bit why it's important to try. It feels nice. It feels better. For one of the sessions, we went outside. My daughter is sick, so we didn't join the rest of the family at my parents' house for the Sunday sessions, and I'm glad. I love my family. I love the children running around and their little voices ringing out and the mamas whispering to them to behave and the dads softly snoring. I love that, but I needed to not be in it today. I needed only my kids and me, outside on the lawn in the sunshine.  The sun shined today. It feels like it hasn't shined in years, but it shined today, and I felt it and pulled it around me and let it hold me. We listened to one of the conference sessions outside in the sunshine. While I listened, I watched. I watched the ants crawling and exploring. I watched the bi

 I feel it in my stomach.  In the small of my back, and between my shoulder blades. “Excitement and anxiety are both just surges of emotion,” my therapist tells me. “You decide what emotion to assign the energy.” It makes sense. So I try. And I don’t know how to make the surge of emotion not make me feel like I want to scream or cry or turn it all off because it’s too big so I just sit and stare and be nothing. Excitement doesn’t feel like that.

I can't remember why I care about things. I can't remember things in general. I woke up this morning, desperate to write, desperate to release, and now the words are gone. There's a juxtaposition of numbness and desperation going on inside me right now that feels dangerous. It reminds me too much of how things used to be for so long, and I'm struggling to understand why it's coming back. I have glimpses of clarity that allow me to focus and figure things out, but they're not consistent, not constant. I know I'm overwhelmed, but I'm always overwhelmed. I know I'm insane, but I've been insane for so long. Why is this happening now? I do have a theory. From too many experiences, I know that, when I’m in crisis, I don't panic or shutdown immediately. I shift into Go Mode. I make sure that everything I need to do is done, that everyone I care about is safe, and then I crash. Go into shock, hyperventilate, shake uncontrollably, laugh hysterically,

It makes me laugh, looking back on those last two posts. How I was so proud of maintaining healthy boundaries, only to realize that half of the battle was on his side. That when the man I am with doesn't have set boundaries against me, I struggle much more dramatically to stay healthy on my end. Oh well. C'est la vie. I no longer feel sure that I'll figure it out. I no longer feel sure that I'll ever get to a healthy place with men. It's not a hopelessness type of thing, more like an acceptance. Even with all the progress I've made--and I do acknowledge my progress. I've made leaps and bounds--I still only attract toxic, dangerous individuals. I'm not sure if that's because that's the only thing out there in my demographic, or if something about me repels healthy and attracts poisonous. I have made some mild discoveries, however, on why I tend to break men.  Looking back on all of my previous relationships, real or imagined, I see patterns. The c

The other night, I had a dream. In the dream, I was in a fantastical garden with massive, tree-sized flowers and streams that flowed with golden liquid. A palpable energy radiated from the liquid, and it gave life to everything around it. In one area was a large, spindle-like plant that dipped up and down continuously. A row of large pods ran beneath the spindle. Each time the spindle dipped, it popped a pod that released the golden liquid that flowed to join one of the many streams. In this garden, I was hosting a fancy party. Many people were there wearing beautiful dresses and fancy tuxes. I had on a floor length, sparkling, golden gown. I looked beautiful. I glowed.  I hosted well, making sure everyone's needs were met and that things were running smoothly. Then, a man came. In my dream, I was in love with this man. He greeted me in a friendly way and we spent most of the evening together dancing and having a wonderful time. He even helped me greet guests and make sure everyone

Today is a congratulations to me kind of day. I've conquered some major hurdles, and I am giving myself a well-deserved pat on the back, gold star on my forehead, and big, fat A+ on my report card. Firstly, I just mailed the last payment of a massive debt that has been weighing on me for the last four years. Hallelujah! Nextly--and this is the biggest "yay me!" of the year--I have a man in my life who is more broken and shattered than nearly anyone I have ever known, and... I'm not in love with him! Ha ha haaaa! Whoopeeeee! Yahoooooo! I'm being completely serious. Do you understand what a mountain this is for me to conquer? I didn't realize how proud I should be of myself until I was talking to a girlfriend the other day about her problems. Suddenly, I realized I had been able to maintain a vulnerable and close relationship with this man while also staying peacefully in my own space. THAT IS A HUGE DEAL FOR ME. I didn't feel responsible to try and control