When Relationships Unravel

I am overwhelmingly intrigued by how different stories become during a break up.  Details shift.  Statements are forgotten while others are highlighted.  Hurtful actions are sidelined if they no longer serve the cause and becoming the victim reigns supreme.  It's uncanny.  All logic leaves.  Honesty is nonessential--so long as I am right.  My reputation is absolutely worth saving beyond my integrity.  And it doesn't matter that what I am saying makes absolute nonsense in the space of the other.  How does anyone reconcile when fantasy takes over and both parties are villainized and victimized simultaneously? Where is the peace?  Where is the love that is still being talked about?  Do we really believe what we're saying in anger?

I’m an idiot.  I care too deeply about making things right for others that I lose sleep trying to express myself as clearly as possible.  And then I’m tongue-tied when I get the chance to speak from the heart.

Breaking a promise. Did you ever make a promise without noticing and then break it? And then you take a step in that broken promise, thinking you’re doing the right thing to please a whole lot of people, when in fact, you’re choosing to go against your word to yourself “for the greater good” of everyone looking at you?You see everyone smiling with pride and adoration for your accomplishments, but you feel nothing as you choose to honor everyone else. And in the background is doubt.  “Maybe I didn’t really make a promise. Maybe things will iron out.” So now you have two promises.  A private one to someone you love that all of this energy and absence and chaos will now come to an end and things will return to whatever “normal” was before.  And a more public one in a new community that welcomes you into a leadership role with an expectation of monthly meetings and quarterly trips to Atlanta. And you balance the two promises by justifying the one as much more relaxed than previously—and

Random calls from people who want to share something they just discovered and are excited to include me in their lives. Spontaneous attempts at showing interest in my day. Follow up questions that suggest that what I have to say might be worth hearing—even if it’s not. Straightforward invitations so that I know without doubt that the other person actually wants to include me in what’s happening. Humor—but not always occurring to me as a put down. A simple statement that suggests that I matter.  “I’m thinking of you” or “I love you” doesn’t have to mean anything deep to make a difference for me. A simple thank you for something I did right.   You have no idea how frequently I’m consumed by how much I’m screwing up, especially at this time in my life. A hint of vulnerability.  Telling me something you don’t like about me is far more palatable to me than silent judgment.   Being included.  I can tolerate adding me in last minute—barely!   (There had better be an attempt at being respons

What I learned from a retired counselor: I am the center of my universe and everything revolves around me!  Everything! I can’t tolerate the idea that ANYONE would consider rejecting me for any reason, because I am perfect!  I deserve to be adored and catered to and understood immediately without any effort. And if it’s not going to happen my way, I have the right to SUFFER as long as I want to. And the universe had better notice.  Because I AM SIGNIFICANT—and My STORY MATTERS!! Even if not a lick of it is true. I’m addicted to a fairy tale I created that had an ending from the very first day.  It verifies the drama of my existence as someone who cannot be loved completely, who is afraid of being criticized and rejected, who will never be good enough,  and who will always disappoint. And the pain I am in is perfectly natural and necessary for recovery from my own childish fantasy, which needs to die completely. This is not the first time I have been made aware of what I am going thr

What I learned about sharing authentically. 1. My default way of being is to withhold my feelings like there’s something hugely important that I need to protect.  When I do this, I am on the defense. I become silent in a way that is menacing and sullen, for anyone smart enough to notice.  For everyone else, I show up as nice—but not kind. There is a resistance emanating from my heart. And it takes a bold person to snap me out of it.  Fortunately, I’m starting to see the effect, and am more and more willing to receive the assistance. 2. Having the opportunity to share what I experience emotionally without someone trying to fix me or make things better is an enormous blessing.  I can’t get over how powerful it has been to give myself permission to feel the negative feeling completely with the help of someone who simply reflects what’s there for me.  The solution I need arises organically from my heart when the emotion has passed. And I get a sense of freedom in my soul and a strong s

A.  Authentic sharing.  Just being able to express where I am to someone without having to hear solutions is incredibly powerful.  Thank you Heidi Dove for just listening and for allowing me the space to just be. B.  Going through the paces.  Assume tasks that are in front of you to do, knowing that you’ll somehow have the grace to complete them.  Be authentic about where you are. There’s no reason to hide. Thank you Peter McRae, Melissa Yang, and Diane Little for being magnanimous with me as we complete this amazing leadership program together and for allowing me the space to be human.  Thank you for trusting me and for acknowledging my contribution in your life. C. Listening to others who know you best.  Recognize that during the experience of depression your brain is muddled and can’t be trusted for reality checks.  Others who see you, know better. Thank you Brent Queen, Amy Coone, Juliet Good, Melissa Gail Bost Napier, Anthony L. Dickens Alderman, Erika Perry, Jonathan JD Danie

Maybe it’s time to start thinking about what I want in a relationship.  At this point, it’s sort of easy to point out what has been missing. First, there would need to be a genuine interest in who I am, what I have on my heart to share, and what makes me excited about getting up in the morning.  There would be an attempt to listen to my perspective, and perhaps even challenge me in a way that make me shine better than before. There would be encouragement, with positive criticism and respect, without ridicule. There would be an openness and depth that is accessible at any time. And a relationship with God would be part of the equation. Humor and freedom of expression could remain, but not by diminishing my personality.  Love would show up in a way that I feel inspired to expand according to my gifting rather than compliance toward an idea that seems directly opposed to who I am. And I would finally get the opportunity to experience myself as desirable.  Adventure and spontaneous j

The Happiness Seminar tonight reminded me that I have many reasons to be grateful for the one I love.  The past four years have been the happiest years in my life so far because of the great contribution he has made in expanding and developing me in ways I would never have imagined possible.  I have an interesting life to build upon because he interrupted me with his creative spirit, his knowledge of music, his love of movies, games, and entertainment and his sense of adventure. I have some incredible memories to cherish for the rest of my life because he consistently made life fun.   There were so many details of our relationship that were completely workable.  I felt tremendous, love, support, and comfort being with him, for the most part.  I laughed a lot. I learned a lot. I loved a lot as well. And I enjoyed being his partner no matter what costume he had me wear.   Although we didn’t live together, we were inseparable, for the most part, with plenty of stories to share with o

What’s most embarrassing: I’ve spent a lot of time and energy lately expressing the whole array of feelings I’ve had surrounding break up.  I’ve received a great deal of support, for which I am grateful. But there’s another story I need to tell that has created an incredible amount of shame and financial burden that I hope nobody repeats.  Back in July 2017, I was contemplating leaving my job at an agency and beginning a private practice. At the time, I had about $15,000 in credit card debt, mostly as a result of living through graduate school, Landmark trainings, and car repairs.   (And living just beyond my means, to be really honest) I wanted to do something to narrow down my debt, knowing that I would be cutting down my monthly salary for awhile until my caseload increased. I already felt ashamed because the one I loved agreed to pay for my trip to Cancun in April 2017 and had frequently bought whatever I needed out of sheer generosity.  And I wasn’t able to return the favor.

My friend Pattiann took me to the Billy Graham Library today for a tour.  She found that when she was going through hard times, the peace found at the Library was especially helpful.  With the exception of the talking cow, I found the exhibits inspiring. I got a sense of how humble the man Billy Graham really was and how focused he remained all of his life on making a huge difference in the world by sharing a consistent message of God’s love. Pattiann and I had not seen each other for 23 years.  Our lives have changed tremendously. But we both look strikingly the same as we did when we last met—except a little older.   I’m grateful for the opportunity to share with each other after so long.  It was a beautiful spring day.

I hereby declare that I’m sick of being sad.  I’m going back to being audacious, generous and free.  I like myself a lot better being that. It just seems more authentic. Mourning lasts for a moment, but joy comes in the morning. It’s time.

Feeling guilty. One area of grief made poignant today was the space of feeling guilty. I’m allowing it to hit on all sides, noticing that it has been very familiar to me for most of my life.   Maybe in choosing it, I can let its power go. First, I feel guilty because my situation is not that great compared to what others are going through.  Death of a cherished grandmother or the sudden loss of a niece is far more devastating. So what right do I have to mourn the loss of a relationship I found exciting and wonderful?   Then there’s the guilt surrounding making up the story that created the demise of a relationship that was actually quite amazing.  Add to that the guilt of spending too much time away and not noticing the effect. And now the guilt of sharing too openly what’s real in my heart. Plus there’s the guilt of backing away from something I promised to do, coupled with the guilt surrounding not completing what I need to do for my livelihood.  I feel guilty for hurting anyone,

Jax stopped by with a pan of chicken and pasta and a loaf of French bread because she saw that I’ve been losing weight.  I totally appreciate the gesture— even though I actually prefer being less than 200lbs. She also encouraged me to start dating again and stop trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.   Jax has all types of wisdom.  She’s a great storyteller too.  Like when she told about stuffing a bag of her puppy’s poop in her jacket pocket and forgetting about it until she noticed the smell in the middle of a grocery store.  She wondered what people thought as she walked by. Other wisdom came from retiring Dr. Freeman who reminded me of the potential 299,999,999 other dating options that are available to me.   I was too deep in the pits of depression to respond with any sense of hope. Fortunately, I went to the doctor today for a SSRI prescription, which will take effect in about a month. She was very respectful, honoring me for being bold enough to seek help, considerin

I have never been here before.  I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to be.  Or how to move forward. How I got to this place right now, alone!—is confounding me. I didn’t ask for this. I shared a life for four years with someone I love who now is a complete stranger.  How did we reach this conclusion? The memories don’t correlate in my mind. Did I make everything up? What was real? What was the concoction of my imagination?  How did the story of our existence end this way? Did we even experience love together?  Or is all of this raw emotion the unraveling of something different?  Is there anything to salvage here?