Alternative world, same but blind…
YO, People in Chronic Pain! Emergency rooms are thine enemy.
Why?
Dying? Might feel so, yet, only you are in fact – not actually.
Nor are you enduring a “condition” which MUST and can be treated. Say a stroke? Broken nose? Appendicitis?
Nope, merely a humongous (what I call an “uptick”) of your constant pain. None of the above scenarios fit yeh.
Now, should you, IF you, fit into that emergency room method of triage – which is that list, an ORDER by which patients receive care in order of severity of injury or otherwise fixable health crisis – THEN hells bells GET THYSELF to the ER.
But.
Vomiting from extraordinary pain? Body writhing in pain? Tears, mucus, and horror rolling down your face? Lil kids’s eyes wide open staring at you in the ER waiting room. No kid whining “I’ve gotta go bathroom”, cause you already scared the shit outta them?
Pain knows no triage in an emergency room folks.
Pain has zero priority. Insane in every membrane pain causing vomiting causing dehydration, causing worse pain – means a whole hella nothing in that place hope once lived.
Sure, if you crave feeling desperation so badly. Perhaps you are masochistic enough – that you’d like to be purely reactive, outrageously desperate enough…that after those perspective of eons of tortured waiting, you determinedly (however feebly) begin wheeling yourself over to the exit. Exit being a brilliant idea. What with the brilliant idea of tipping over to the pavement, welcoming crushing car wheels..?!?
That type of act got me security attention and a quick IV. Never imagined possible horror moment, brain burned forever remembering my frightening those waiting room children with the intensity of my suffering that refused to let me have any control. Refused to let me hide that horrid visual and vocal manifestation in that waiting time, stretched to centuries (think loud gasps, retching, crying uncontrollably).
Be clear, tisn’t the ER’s fault. Simply, the whole shindig is set up for triaging those people whose medical problems can (hopefully) be “fixed” not merely brought medically into submission.
Alternatives are NECESSARY. YOU must pay attention and take control.
Take a nap. Saying you cannot if a pain uptick is rising, is akin to you thinking you won’t be melted by magma from a fast erupting volcano.
Start meditation on the regular. Meditation is scientifically proven to lower lactic acid in the blood and hemceforth throughout your whole body and brain. Lower your lactic acid, in turn raise your pain, anxiety and panic tolerance. Don’t be defeatist. KNOW this; meditation is the act of bringing your mind back to calm intention, bring it back from those sneaky thoughts – the whole “I’m bad at meditation” is a fundamental miscomprehension of what meditation IS.
Marijuana’s ability to drastically decrease nausea is a major miracle. Plus it lessens symptoms of pain for ever so many causes of pain.
Opiates? NOooooo if you are a true chronic pain sufferer you will get slammed with rebound pain that will hit you worse after a few days; far worse than that pain for which you took it in the first place. SO save any you’ve got for a last gasp attempt to knock yourself out – use em sparingly and rarely to sleep deep and avoid the ER. Do not take on the regular because your pain will only worsen. Hoard enough so you have backup.
Mostly, get your coping skills attuned to your own damn self. Feeling more oogy but want to stay at the party? Uh. No. GO home and sleep. (lil weed helps that there too). Dying to hit that concert? Nap before, nap after. Let the dishes stay dirty and go a day without underwear. Put those responsibilities like doing laundry aside, so you can get your joy on and not pay with the desire to commit suicide.
Use “the google” or whatever search engine and find the zillion legit articles about managing and coping with pain so you stay in a semblance of control of your own self.
You CAN do this.
In solidarity and lack of bullshit,
Renée
ps – Hey, if you are in pain because of an injury, something new and unknown… GO to the ER or Urgent Care – ABSOLUTELY! Just know thyself.
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Call Shit a Rose and it still Stinks
Everybody seems expert on personality disorders nowadays. What with the proliferation of public figures exposing their proclivities (deliberately or not); talking heads (or asses) are busy categorizing and explaining behaviors utilizing labels ordinarily reserved for diagnosis by experts in the field of psychology.
“Narcissistic” is maybe most bandied about, perhaps because that diagnosis is tops on most lists describing U.S.A.’s idiot in chief. Given the human penchant for seeking comprehension of … anything and everything… of course people wanna understand “why/what the heck is that (insert here: a behavior, a statement, anything that makes you go “what the fuck?!”) coming from?!”.
Next natural jump in thought is to apply this newly discovered, popular armchair diagnosis, to people in one’s own personal world.
And here is where the rub lies. What does the label mean in real life? To you, to me, to any person? I research the crap out of these categories of human behavior and have learned that some personality disorders could also be known as “nasty unrepentant manipulative shitty shit”. Guess what. The behavior itself is what matters. Not the label.
So when my mother shitbombs me with one of her missives that arrive dressed up as a serial killer’s envelope, (no return address, no post office stamp, my name typed on separate piece of white paper, then cut out unevenly, and taped carefully to a large manilla envelope yet contains only a single page), it matters not whether she has a formal diagnosis. Whether a professional in the field of psychology has determined her to be borderline personality disordered, dependent personality disordered, narcissistic … is in the hard life of reality, completely irrelevant.
Diagnosis or not, my mother is a poisonous self pitying manipulative nasty mean unempathetic delusional liar. Happenstance that her most prevalent traits are those contained within the professionally approved label. The toxicity that she embodies is untenable to tolerate no matter, because it is the person she IS, not the label she is given, that matters.
Raining down protestations are weapons of mass effective perspective blockers, and are utilized by toxic people often. Aggressively or plaintively asserted, “I’m not a this and that”…. Then they go ahead and engage in one or other of the very behaviors that a person diagnosed with “this and that” is characterized by.
Keeping perspective clear is tough for every person because our darn emotions and stray wishes love to color our view and move the horizon from where it actually is. Keeping perspective when in constant chronic pain is a newish journey for me, and I’m finding the pain useful as providing both a deadline and a windshield wiper. A deadline is a must have for tolerating toxicity because after all, I ain’t voluntarily allowing myself to die drowning in poison thank you very much, and after a while the breathing gets really tough. The wiper, well just think of a mechanism cleaner, and most importantly, one that is much more effective than squeegees once used by the guys hanging out in traffic over by the Holland Tunnel.
Being thankful for this epiphany of my pain as a tool towards my mental health is an understatement, for no other reason that because clarity is VITAL. The alternative I dread, but which could entirely be plausible, is that the insane-pain could be a total brain blocker rendering me oblivious to just about everything. Oblivious meaning completely letting my rational analysis be rendered into shreds too tiny to be patched back together. Luckily for me, when the holysheitpain- ness strikes, obliviousness equals shutting down entirely and sleep.
The moral of this post is, know your own true identity if you can. Keep your perspective clear and free from the temptations of tempests of drama. Be real about what is and isn’t healthy for you. Utilize whatever challenges you face as motives, the challenges are enough by themselves. Keep it real so you can move it forward to happy goodness. Just remember, and be gentle with yourself. Because the places that your challenges will take you are easily swayed off direction, for the winds of poison gust strong.
Holding onto positivity ain’t easy.
But nor is it irretrievable when a grip is lost.
Grab it back knowing it is up to you.
Yours in keeping it as clear as can in order to live a positive existence,
Renée
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Can YOU chose your reality?
Despair, jealousy, anger, frustration… all the negative emotions that smack us and send us spinning, coming from what oft feels from a void we hadn’t known existed. Possibly, or probably, we were willfully blind. Purposely overlooking varieties of red flags because we didn’t want to see the negative looming. Seeing it coming or not matters not at all when that damn hard smack comes which sends a person reeling. Somehow the smack (at least initially) mostly always feels like a crevasse has opened beneath us.
We cannot in any way control our immediate rush of whatever negative feeling strikes us IN THAT IMMEDIATE smack moment.
It is ridiculously important to sit with whatever emotion left you spinning without any ground under your feet. Be real with yourself about what you’re feeling. Don’t pull bullshit veils over your own intelligence.
Naturally the INSTANT AFTER you are propelled into the “HOLY FUCK” void, we tend to got grabbed and pulled in the cyclone created by the question “WHY”. We get swirled in rapidly (hard to think straight) spinning, dizzying circles and are simultaneously battered with all the cyclone “WHY” debris. “WHY” debris is no stranger to us, but man does it hurt! Debris in the form of self blame, searching why we created or helped the smackdown occur. Victimizing oneself, why me?! Lots of flying around debris is labeled “willful ignorance” and we respond with, “How could blah blah blah have blahblah to me!” IT IS HUMAN NATURE to engage in self examination, seeking to comprehend why.
Then STOP! Can you? Well it is completely and utterly up to YOU.
Because at this point you’ve reached the fork in the emotional health road. That moment many, but not most, of us even know exists in our conscious minds.
This moment when we actually have a CHOICE. We can’t control how fucked up we feel when someshit occurs and we’re stricken in the moment. But after that initial strike? We have a choice. We can take control in a positive way that moves us forward towards peace and happiness, or otherwise.
Yes, really, you have this power. We are in charge of our own realities and we get to shape where our minds go with intention. INTENTION. Yes, I’m taking about the non bullshit that is being mindful. Meaning you look OUTSIDE of your own damn self.
Unless. Unless that most valuable possession your heart and soul possesses, gets ripped or blown away, because you won’t hold onto it. Hear me? YOU won’t hold onto it. Either purposely or non purposely. Guess what, YOU CAN STILL TAKE IT BACK. Intention is there for you to hold onto, if you chose. For certain you won’t be in charge of yourself without intention.
The toughest and scariest path to take at this fork in the road is the one hidden behind the brambles of every nasty thing you’ve ever consciously or subconsciously thought about yourself. It ain’t easy guiding yourself in a emotionally healthy manner what with those devils riding your shoulders. Devil ventriloquists to your brain, making you say to yourself (and perhaps others) “I’m so stupid” “Why did I fall for that” “He/she is a total (insert horrific adjective about a person’s flaw here) and I …”
POWER is necessary to push those prickly thorny blood drawing life sucking brambles of nasty out of your fucking way; and you need dig up yourself some insight otherwise you won’t see the alternative path.
Ask yourself, DO you muster the insight, the calm, the bullshit filter to push your mind down the road of the reality of learning and growth? Can you? Have you TRIED?????
or…
Do the frenemies-feelings (those emotions so familiar they are easy to fall in with; and those suckers destruct self esteem) – take you by the hand instead? Surely you’re familiar with these terminators aimed at defeating your power. Self doubt, self blame, DO those emotions take you down a path filled with sticky tar that swallows your soul? Are you comfortable wallowing in victimhood pretending you aren’t bitter?
Is it safer for you to feel shitty? To not have expectations? To anticipate negativity and disbelieve positivity? What is your comfort level? Do compliments make you uneasy? What is the sense of worth you truly possess?
WILL YOU STAY STUCK IN WHATEVER SENSE OF WORTH YOU’VE GOT?
OR WILL YOU WORK AT MAKING YOUR REALITY A HAPPIER ONE?
This stopping in mental time, this recognition of choice, is extraordinarily difficult and seemingly completely missed by most. All one needs do for proof of why it is so well hidden is to pay attention to all that surrounds us. Listen to friends, news, various postings on media, and the discontent is rampant. The norm is woe.
For goodness sakes, of course you must own your misery. Face your depression. Examine your reasons. Be real with yourself at the very least, if not also to others.
BUT DON’T LET THOSE TOXIC NEGATIVE EMOTIONS TAKE YOU TO LIVE IN VICTIMLAND.
Unless of course you prefer victim land, (where narcissists and borderline disordered people happily feed off depressives and people well trained to think they’re worthless).
Reveling in misery is many people’s idea of normal. Hey, if that sinks their boat and they’re happy (well not my definition of happy but their personal reality of happy) in the muck at the bottom, that is an individual’s life to live. The unspoken danger is that the longer a person stays in victimland- the more deeply sucked into that muck a person gets and the more difficult to even WANT to feel happy.
Me? The muck pre-existing in the world not having to do with me personally, well that is plenty bad enough for me to want to never voluntarily take a path that leads to my own personal tarpit.
So I’m learning. Working at noticing. Being attentive (even in hindsight) as can be.
Working I am. To take that other path. To machete through the brambles, clear my vision to see that there is a way to (yeah, it sounds corny) enlightenment. That’s right, I said it. Enlightenment. The word used by mystics, religions, and defined by me here as stripping away the bullshit and taking whatever negative toxic crap I felt/feel and squeezing whatever positive I can out of it.
That means looking for lessons. That means calming down enough to seek other perspectives, ones that don’t drown me and render me paralyzed. Perspectives that make me grow in comprehension about whatever the hell it may be. Recognizing that all I can control is my own self, and when I do manage control there is an undeniable ripple effect impacting whatever is around me.
None of us are perfect, that would be damn boring anyway.
But too many of us wallow in victimhood, feeling snarky, put upon. And that just sucks the life out of the atmosphere.
Smack yourself with a reality stick if you want to be happy and even (holy shit…) joyful! This means analyzing logically. About yourself, about another, about a situation. Think about how whatever fucked you up – can also flip side – instead, make you better, more capable, more understanding about whatever the hell you now know about.
Find the generosity in your soul and guide it to your heart. Forgive yourself first. When you’re ready, let that toxicity go fly away so it doesn’t shadow your manner, your inner light. Even if you don’t think you HAVE an inner light, you won’t know unless you genuinely attempt to reveal it to yourself. Find the courage to look within.
No-one else is capable. No-one else is responsible. It falls upon each of us individually to manage our personal reality. Only on our own can we find and harness our power to find and utilize that ephereal insight to shape this reality. How the reality feels, what we let it do to us, how some thing impacts upon your existence, and hence also those around you.
Yours in the challenge of choosing to pause at the fork, find your power, and shape your reality to be happy,
Renée
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Forget “FOMO” (“F”ear “O”f “M”issing “Ou”t”) – and instead focus
This sunny weather is feeding a virtual torrential storm on social media – my face squinching in effort to think what media DOESN’T HAVE the fourth of July splattered SOMEHOW into the message today (and of course bookend days though more of intermittent showers).
News blasts: Governor closes beaches for the FOURTH; sales galore on the FOURTH; fireworks, (And car shows? How antique cars became part of this day I suppose is attributed to American nostalgia and hankering for gas guzzlers that look cool? Don’t get me wrong, I like a good machine); circuses, pop up vendors of food, more pop up vendors of food… or what poses as food but is delicious evilness.
Open your FB feed to the flood of “what I’m doing that is so fantastic on the fourth” Facebook submergence. Photos of beaming faces, often in or near some sort of water or at least a checkered tablecloth… or at least holding some sort of sparkler or photo bombed by a stray condiment…
Easy to slip slide into the …. “F“ear “O“f “M“issing “O“ut phenom (that is more all american than supporting our president.)(job title not capped on purpose)
This FOMO sucks the joy out of your life and you (me too) need to stop.
Can you? If you like wallowing in crap then wallow away, I don’t want to take your (negative reinforcement of toxic feelings) righteous yearnings away…
So those who scoff at the focus vs femo(crap), you are free to stop reading here.
Otherwise take your head outta your nether regions and focus on whatever goodness you’ve got right here and now. With your self. With your environs.
Me, I planned on fireworks and the whole fantastic community coming together madness partay that is what I absolutely love about basically almost any event hosted around here…
Yet my girlie needed some down time lone with Mama. And me with her.
I’m joyful for those I love who are enjoying their thang… that is their focus and the sharing of their experience means I get to witness happiness.
But fomo? No friggin way. You’ve your sitch. I’ve mine. Focus.
And when I focus, all that comes to mind is “ahhhh”. These moments with my lil one are going to change with the times of her growth, and whilst they will all have their beauty, the poignancy of past never fails to sting me. So focus I do. Soak it in. Hold for future memory. Trying to diminish that future missing this time with her.
Goodnight and feel the goodness of your own circumstances no matter the devilish temptation to not be satisfied.
Yours in focusing, (like being organized, being focused is a constant effort, don’t bs yourself into to classifying yourself as “not” just because it is WORK and comes easy to no one!)
Renée
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why give a shit
Ever ask yourself flat out real deal no baloney straight up why the fuck it matters?
You made or are making a choice. This that or the other deserves whatever energy you are giving/gave…
or not.
Which?
And to what point at all?
I’ve awoken to the sun shining on all I can do, and alternatively that which must peaceably wait.
For me, the illustration is in my sisterchildhoodfriend letting me know she was genuinely worried because my bedroom is in a state never before seen let alone imagined.
Between moving on ceremonies and attendant rituals and celebrations; likewise high school graduation time absorbancy all encompassing -…….
… I’ve zero ability ((either energywise, physical capability -wise; emotional nonoverload-wise) – NO FRIGGINTENT WAY my room warrants even a smidgen of attention.
Except to slide stuff over on the bed to make room and so be it if stuff falls to the floor.
Otherwise, next.
Always a list of priorities and yep a straightened room feels most peaceful so priority it will get.
In another day or so.
Yours in letting unproductive anxiety go,
Renée
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Chosen Family
“Blood is thicker than water”
“Friends will come and go, family is always there for you”
Two of countless platitudes voiced during occasions of momentous import.
The first nonsensical to my thinking. Thick blood is clotting blood. Clotting blood makes a scab protecting a wound so skin can regrow, vital sure. Of course water is absolutely necessary for life, our very cells are comprised of it. Between the two I don’t see a clear winner.
Keeping trying to make sense of this oft vehemently spat out statement, I think about the composition of both comparatively. While how blood could be assessed as essentially “stronger” (for why else would “thicker” matter if at all?) … our blood wouldn’t flow whatsoever if we didn’t intake water. Water itself is survival. Huh right?
Looking closer at the benefits of clotting there arises the reality of torture and tragedy. Blood clots which form internally – washing round our bodies ultimately finding the way to a heart or brain – either kills us or renders us prisoners in our bodies (heart attack, aneurysm or a stroke in case you were wondering). (I’m terrified of a stroke, trapped in my body, unable to communicate with an active mind?! YIKESOLA!!!!! TORTURE). And a heart attack? A surprise murderer that takes young and old alike to the place of no return.
Slash smush down! First sentiment rendered nonsensical. At the very best, most positive – saying “blood is thicker than water” is a meaningless comment applied to a truly lovely connection between biologically connected people.
At worst, that bullshit is a stab in the eye of anyone who has unbearable toxicity in their biological relations.
The second platitude? A flat out lie. Family is absolutely NOT always there for a person. In fact, families can be dysfunctionally toxic in a horror show, rather than sitcom, fashion.
Sure, family can certainly be fabulously there for a soul.
BUT: NOT NECESSARILY.
At. All.
People in the public eye ofttimes are “outed” about the rifts along their family biological tree.
Many in their private lives just pretend all is glossy, while they froth with quiet (or not so quiet) frustration.
THANK GOODNESS (and I mean GOODness) for CHOSEN FAMILY.
People who you aren’t obligated to because just because. People who demonstrate kindness and love in thoughtful meaningful manners that feel like true home in your heart.
Cherish these people. Absorb their goodness and shine yours their way. Let them stand by your side at those times when provincial people might narrowly think you are alone. Feel strong in your independence, your choice, your freedom, and most importantly – in your love.
Yours in being unconventional,
Renée
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Being argharghbarg about doing something doesn’t mean you never care
You are allowed to feel schpilkis (yiddish for utchuty, otherwise known as “ants in pants”) after letting your child stay on your nipple after he/she fell asleep after nursing two hours.
It is ok to remember feeling all jumpy and irritated-like when you walked back to the bed for one “last kiss”.
Even now when that kid is poised, ready and wanting to leap. No matter how preened their feathers, how strongly rooted. Regardless of your confidence in their ability to navigate their individuality throughout the masses in the world.
Now, when your heart aches with the missing of those chubby arms around your neck. The silence longing to be broken with “Mooooooommmmmy”.
It is tempting to convince ourselves that the two are not mutually exclusive. How could we purely love our children and simultaneously want to give ourselves a shake like a big ole dog getting rid of all the water.
We are allowed to live in a moment and experience the reality of what is happening that moment. Our exhausted child needed sleep, and if we felt irritation that it was taking so godsmackingdoobies long as it was… that’s just the deal. How lovely to think that if we came upon a time machine and were zapped so we could re-live those moments, all’d be different. This go round we’d fall asleep with our child, cuddling warmly. Smack yourself with some reality and remind yourself that while distracted by your kid’s finger digging in your ear, likely your whole left side would have gone numb from hanging over the edge of the kid’s skinny bed (no room for you what with all stuffed animals procreating all over).
Romanticizing all of your intimate parenting is robbing yourself of the gritty actual of it all.
Cherish, as it was truly experienced.
Yours in arghabargazumzum,
Renée
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Mourning Father’s Day
What of the fathers who are gone from our lives, not because they passed on, but because we children made a choice?
Pain is pure toxicity in any quantity. Unrelenting pain drenches a psyche with a constant flood of negativity.
My toxicity capacity is enormous. Shit-tons, no problem; raining shit, tis okaydoke; swimming in shit using a reed to breath, got it!
This chronic pain shizoki? Universe record, saturation overload, “DANGER WILL ROBINSON!”. (google if you don’t know the quote :))
Basically? Wee bit of room left for tolerating toxic… way wee.
So I’m mourning father’s day. Mourning what I wish I had. The way some of you may be wishing your father was still in this plane of existence. It is all about missing something profound.
Because sure, I could celebrate that I wouldn’t even exist but for his sperm, but I’m also allergic to fronting (aka bullshitting myself)… and truth told I never had anybody “father me”. As in, there was no “daddy’s girl” positivity nurturing thrown my way in a healthy sense.
Can’t seem to fake it till I make it. So I sit here in my favorite café, to avoid being home alone where I would never write this – and am motivated at all to write this because I know there are people who can relate in one way or another.
There is comfort in not feeling alone.
Yours in empathy,
Renée
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living through “I hate you”
Being a parent is not all you are. But living with pain a person tends to search for motives, reasons, inspiration … for living with that pain.
Why do you want to live? Have you thought about this question? Do you just experience, whatever you may do and have done to you or with you – without wondering? Wondering about whether there is a point, a reason, a motive that justifies it all?
I suspect anyone stumbling across this blog may well be enaged in self examination of their life. I for one do not experience the bliss of ignorance without challenge to that deepest question of all, “why am I here”?
Because I must be here for my children. Plain and simple. They need me. It isn’t merely shelter, food, and water that sustains them. My love demonstrated through actions as wide ranging as my giving a hug, to efforts to guide my children in how they choose to perceive the world, perceive their experiences, and do so in manners that are most emotionally healthy and productive.
Defining myself by my children is forgetting something incredibly important.
I am more than my children. Peering through the iron filings of chronic fatigue, around the stabbing knives of pain and dodging the violent trolls – I can see that I can make people laugh. So can you. I can create. I can give and receive goodness.
So can you. You may not feel it some, most, or any of the time. And here is where you must get deliberate.
We must practice self love. Remember that we matter and that the pain does not take away from who we are, but certainly makes it hard to remember.
We must be ACTIVE thinkers, DELIBERATE in the direction we allow our thoughts to take.
We must push against the despair, and remember we deserve to live because of ourselves, not merely for others.
Time and again I find myself weighing, am I more burdensome or worthwhile? That burdensome and worthwhile is based upon my (biased by my own emotions) viewpoint about myself. How very limited and certain to be inaccurate, for we struggle to see ourselves from any perspective other than our own.
Yet to be as mentally healthy as we can, we must practice self love. Practice means having to engage in activities purposefully that make us feel good. This could be meditating, eating a delicious meal, taking a bath. But it need be soly focused upon treating yourself with loving kindness.
When we love ourselves, we are stronger. Reality is, we can also be better parents when we don’t hing our worth merely upon our children’s reactions – but necessarily utilize our judgements and insights.
Yours in practicing what seems impossible,
Renée
This is no joke:
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Guilt pervades; how to NOT let it control?
Guilt and insecurity are dear friends, often found canoodling, holding hands in unity. “Am I good enough” is a question running through humankind’s mind hive, perpetrated by media inspired visions of perfection. Otherwise known as bullshit.
KNOWING something to be bullshit isn’t the same as FEELING it to be true.
Having a current of truth vibrate through your soul, resounding in your mind, that a person IS good enough – that goes against the reality of today’s world. A deluge, a zillion purchases we can (should?) make, are offered (or pushed upon) us in every possible setting…
Truth told, it seems the entire system is designed to keep us feeling never good enough so we stay on the treadmill of purchasing eye creams, self help tomes, basically we flail about wanting to be better (better looking, better eater, better at knowing stuff…)… I’m beginning to believe that these efforts promulgated by society are in fact designed to NEVER let us believe we are good enough.
Parenting is rife with insecurities and guilt no matter what your circumstance.
Working? You aren’t spending enough time with your children. Not working? You are not sufficiently supporting your children. Giving children space? Neglectful. Hands on parenting? Helicoptering.
Parenting in pain? How easy it is to think we are special in our guilt and insecurity. Everything boils down to “if I didn’t have this pain I could have, I would have, I should have…”.
NOT TRUE.
We must tell ourselves that regardless of pain, we are human. Ok, so we know we would have gone to that school concert if we weren’t writhing at home. How easy to believe you are a bad parent because you cannot attend an event because of your pain.
Until someone else lets you know they didn’t make it because they forgot.
Or someone else just didn’t think it was important and so didn’t attend.
Or someone else couldn’t make it because of what amounts to reasons limited in number only by your imagination.
Give yourself a break.
You do what you can. You remember that all any person can do is their best.
Everyone’s best varies, ya know, just like the people are varied.
Breathe and let insecurity and guilt go away for a bit, let those toxic motherkillers take a walk without you pulling them back.
Be as good as you can. Know the pain doesn’t make you bad.
See yourself and your actions – without the cloud those toxic emotions create.
Yours in efforts (yes efforts, ’cause it ain’t easy!) at achieving clarity,
Renée
Parenting in Pain 