Micki's Musings

time is a tree (this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough -EE Cummings My fear came back in full force for a bit. I forgot, as I am wont to do when he is around, how to control my anxiety. My mind has been awakening, but there are still those parts that are a little sluggish and cause me to forget, and when the stress comes, when he gets into attack mode, my fight or flight kicks in. Then it stays kicked in, until I remember, or am reminded, how to find my happy. So for a few days, I was all amped up again. We had another mediation, wherein I was accused of more things I did not do, and had to defend myself against his latest tirades. We came very, very close to some actual agreements, but, as usual, something happened right at the end to trigger him and set him off, so no papers were signed. Again. But I'm okay. This time, I went in there prepared with my army. I felt them, all those prayers and all those angels surrounding

My previous life was not always miserable. I had many joyful times with my husband and children. Through the rough times, I fought for and found my happy, just like I am doing now and will do forevermore. It's all about perspective, always about perspective. I got so good at adjusting my perspective, I began to lose sight of reality. Multiple things happened to open my eyes, and I'm grateful for those things, though they also caused pain to many people. I've caused a lot of pain for many people. Others have caused pain for me. But I shall forgive, I hope they can forgive, and everyone will move forward. But how? That's the question. Not why, never why. "Why?" is one of those fruitless questions as far as causes of pain and suffering, and asking it tends to just cause more. But "How?", how do I heal, how do I protect, how do I move on, those are the questions I am working on asking, the questions worth answering. People who know what's going o

I want to be rescued. I'm not supposed to want that. In this day and age, I am supposed to be satisfied with being a strong, independent woman who "doesn't need a man to complete her." I am all those things, but there is a difference between need and want, and I want to be rescued. Sometimes, the world is winning and I am afraid. Sometimes, I want to be swept up and carried and held and protected. It would be nice if someone else would slay the dragon every once-in-a-while. I've slayed enough of them. I know my value and my worth and the power that lies within me, but does that mean I have to wield my own sword every second of every single day? Can't someone else, a hero, a knight in shining armor show up, and at least have my back, if not relieve me altogether, just for a minute? I don't want someone else to fight all my battles for me. I don't need to be coddled and patronized, but to have someone that wants to be there, that wants me but d

Oh wow, I'm going to be okay. I wasn't sure for a minute, but I'm going to be okay. I just finished a session of laughing at myself in front of the mirror. I haven't really looked at myself in the mirror today. It's been an anxiety-inducing week, and I've spent most of the day on the computer, on the phone, and taking care of my kids, one of whom is sick with what I believe is evolving into the flu. The one time I attempted to take a shower, the deputy showed up to pick up the second police statement report I had to fill out this week. Yes, I said second. So, when I finally took a moment to glance at my reflection as I prepared for bed this evening, it made me smile very, very big. You see, I am wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday. I slept in them, because I legitimately didn't know if I was going to need to get up in the middle of the night and call the police (again) or remove myself and my children to a safer location. My makeup from yesterday i

Below are some posts I wrote and posted and then took down, or never posted at all. Some of them make me uncomfortable, or it makes me uncomfortable to have other people know those more pathetic parts of me. I have a tendency to force myself to see the lesson, or the bright side, or the message I can send. These posts don't necessarily have any major lessons learned or inspiring messages; they're just me, writing, because I can't stand it anymore. I'm posting them now, because I'm working on accepting and loving every part of myself, even the more disturbing, ridiculous, scary, and pathetic parts. The Curb Written 1/29/16 Last night I found myself sitting on a curb. It's an interesting place to sit, the curb. People walked by. Some smiled and said hello, some didn't. One cyclist went by without a word. Another cyclist--a homeless man--stopped to talk. His name was Mr. Clark. No first name, just Mr. Clark. I liked Mr. Clark. Sometimes happy things

So...yesterday was fun. The highlights included hours of phone conversation with him during which I set down the phone and walked away, because if I hung up he just called back over and over. This was followed by him showing up uninvited at the door of my home, yelling through said door about how I don't respect men or the priesthood and have renounced my religion. Good times. It's an interesting thing, getting divorced from a psychopath--equally as fascinating as being married to one. I have this piece of myself that is constantly observing myself and my interactions with other people. She watches my reactions to things, analyzing and calculating how and why I behave the way I do or feel the way I feel. I call her my little psychologist. I confer with her, from time to time, and gauge my level of healthy versus insane. Insanity usually wins out, but I've found that isn't always a bad thing, when one is aware he or she is crazy. Stubbornly ignorant insanity, however

“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”  ―   Charles Dickens Our new dining room table is battered and scratched. One of the chair leg rungs has been snapped off. Initials are carved in various parts of its surface, and its previous use was as a workbench in the neighbor's garage. And it's the most beautiful table I have ever seen. Yesterday, the kids and I moved into our "new" home. It's actually about 50 years old ("Even older than you!? How is that possible!?" is how my son puts it. Little turd) but newly remodeled (mostly), cozy, and warm, which is perfect for our needs. I texted four people the time and place we were moving, and 25 people showed up. We had our furniture disassembled, belongings moved, and furniture reassembled in our new home within an hour. People I'd never even met before showed up to help just because they heard someone needed helping. Half-an-hour later, we had dinner and dessert a

I currently find myself with perpetually excessive amounts of energy. At times, I really do feel as if I could spread my arms out wide and just fly. I love laughing and dancing and singing. I want to explore and discover and learn. I am no longer satisfied with mediocrity. All of those brain-numbing activities I used to participate in to waste away the hours because I had no energy for anything else only irritate me now. I want to create and build. I want to constantly do things that accomplish something of worth. I am breaking free of my mental and emotional shackles, and it is beyond invigorating. I used to want to be done. I was never actually suicidal, but the idea of life ending was not unattractive to me. I used to trudge along, day after day, doing my best to find joy and happiness, and even then I was frequently successful. I had and have much to be grateful for, and I could see those things, but only through great effort. Much of the time, however, I just felt trapped. Now

I will always vividly remember the day, the moment, I officially filed for divorce. Rain drizzled against the lawyer's office windows, and I sat in the waiting room, my hands clasped to keep them from shaking. Feelings of sadness and a conviction I was doing the right thing played tug of war inside of me. The paralegal called me to her desk, where I paid the fee, signed the contract, and she went into the back to make copies and bring out the official documents. Then the tears began. I couldn't stop them, and didn't want to. Something precious and dear to me was ending, and I knew I needed to mourn its passing. The paralegal came back out and glanced at my face, but didn't say anything. I quietly signed the rest of the papers, got my copies, and left the office. I had to tuck the papers under my sweater to keep them dry. It seemed symbolic, somehow, the necessity of clutching those means to an end close to me. Rain is a depressing thing to a lot of people. They se

I've been in hibernation for a long time. My most integral parts of myself went away to a safe place to hide and sleep and wait for me to wake up. It's thrilling to be opening my eyes again. I went through something like this once before, a time where I experienced a rebirth as my eyes were opened to the craziness of my life. This was seven years ago when I realized I was a codependent enabler and that all the things I thought I had been doing right were only backfiring on me and my family. I did a lot of healing after that time and grew so much. I learned many powerful lessons and became a stronger person. I was able to assist my husband in healing from his addiction as I healed from my addiction to him. And I looked back on the girl I had been before with contempt. I saw the person I was before as weak and fragile. I could not believe I had allowed myself to fall into the pit I was in. I had always thought I was so introspective, so self-aware, and I had still allowe