the writing's on the wall continued

i haven't posted in over a year and a half.  so much has happened during that time.  so much - i changed jobs like 3 times all within the same company. i had to close a program down and lay off staff in this terrible economy again, all while my family was experiencing economic troubles.  i was diagnosed with hypertension (like really dangerous hypertension - 192/115) and i found out that i was pregnant.  pregnant and almost 40.

i've wanted to blog but either i was torn about how much to share with the internets or i just didn't have enough energy. of course i've been reading blogs (mostly about fashion) and leaving comments but that was easy.  it wasn't an emotional task for me.  each day that i would click on blogger to catch up on the latest trends and who's wearing what, i would feel a little twinge of guilt that i wasn't not putting any energy into what i claimed to love.  i wished that i could express my passion like my favorite bloggers.

a few days ago, one of the fashion bloggers that i just started following left a comment on one of my posts, the first "writing's on the wall" post.  her willingness to share such intimate parts of her life on my blog touched me.  it forced me to respond and so here i am.

@ Style4Curves, i am so sorry for your losses.  i know that this sounds cliche, but maybe it wasn't your time.  as a fellow chronic planner, i  had to learn the hard way several times.  i had planned almost every step of my life with at least three contingency plans for each step.  so of course, i stressed over every detail and even more when things didn't go as planned.  this high level of stress eventually contributed to hypertension, which unfortunately i ignored because i had too many other things to worry about. (it's funny how we pick and choose which signs we pay attention to.)  that diagnosis was one of the wall writings that i chose to ignore.  (isn't is also funny how the writing doesn't disappear simply because we ignore it?  we keep going through the same trial, remixed but the same, until we learn the lesson we're supposed to learn.) one of the most recent times found me on a hospital bed for the third time during my last pregnancy, being told that my hypertension might kill my unborn baby or me or both of us. that is actually a legitimate reason to worry but it was a catch 22.  worry and jeopardize my life and pregnancy or let go and let whatever was going to happen happen.  "let go and let God."  "whatever will be, will be."  pick a cliche but know that it wasn't easy either way.  i had to be reminded that everything has it's own time and order and that sometimes, the order of things is not going to be clear to me.  i had to learn to trust - trust myself to know that i am resourceful and resilient enough to be ok no matter what happened and trust that the powers that be/my higher power/God had a plan for me.  that plan is still unfolding for me and it hasn't been all happily ever after but i am happy.  

now back to you,  maybe it wasn't your time.  maybe planning everything is affecting your health and in turn your reproductive health.  i don't know.  i don't even know enough to say that if you stop wanting it so much that it will happen.  what i do know is that you have to learn to be ok regardless.  look at other ways to utilize your maternal energy.  motherhood is not simply giving birth to a child.  there are thousands of children that need a mother.  look into being a foster or an adoptive parent.  explore being a mentor.  use this time to write more (yes, i am THE black pot talking to the kettle) and research ways to make money so that you don't have to be a starving artist.  take this time to step back and look at the writing on your wall from every angle.  what themes have been reoccurring in your life?  as i type this advice to you, i am asking myself the same questions.  but your comment, the literal writing on the wall, has told me that i need to get back to writing.  it's also encouraging me to start studying for my licensing exam so i can charge for my counseling services (see, a way to make money with my dreams).  thank you for sharing with me and thank you for getting me to look up again at the writing on my wall.

hey. i wish i could come up with a witty greeting to welcome you back or to reintroduce myself but all i can seem to manage is a simple "hey". it's been too long, people. almost a year. and what has been keeping me away? well, everything and nothing. so much has happened over the past several months that i should have written at least two books but it has been hell trying to process the experience in a way that i could get it down on paper (or in this case, ready to post). while sometimes the words don't fit in my mouth, lately it seems as if words were too weak to define...wait, i'm getting caught up in jessica care moore and the purple one's lyrics. you get the point though.

at times, there was so much going on that the most natural way to cope would have been to write but i couldn't seem to focus the swarm of emotion into coherent words. wordplay turned to a battle of words that wore on my nervous system, causing tension headaches verging on migraines. i know my blood pressure is elevated and what that could mean and so, that becomes yet another thing to worry about. calm on the surface but throbbing, pulsating, crashing waves beneath. i know i needed a release and soon or else i was liable to implode or explode and God help the innocent bystanders.

so here i am, a bubbling cauldron of ___________waiting to be stirred lest i boil over and scauld someone. if you're reading this, i assume that you're ready for the journey and wherever it may lead so lift the lid and let's get this going.

p.s. please leave comments so i know that you're there.

kiss from a rose...

i'd like to say that i haven't been alright because of the state of the country and the economy, how i've been feeling like i'm hanging onto my job by a thread, etc. but that wouldn't be totally true and i can't lie...anymore. for reasons too numerous to go through now, i can just simply say that i have not been alright for a while now.

things really started to unravel during the last few months of my grandmother's life. it was all so touch and go for almost a year. i'd tried to prepare myself but you're never really ready for the day. i watched the strongest, most active, independent and industrious woman, person i knew, decline to the point of being confined to a bed and unable to speak. my heart would break daily for her. when i was alone, i allowed myself time to grieve selfishly. my grandmother raised me. she loved me in her own way and taught me all she knew so i'd become strong and self-reliant. up until then, i thought i had been a good student but secretly i wondered if her lessons would be enough without her there. after she passed away, i held up and carried on my daily routines. i had to. but as time when on, what i realized as my facade started to crack. to the untrained eye, i was multi-tasking as usual. but i'd become unorganized and lost. i honestly don't know if it was pride or the bitter thought that no-one would or could be there for me, no matter how many times i had come through for them, but i kept everything to myself. it oozed out at times, creating waves in the otherwise calm with my boyfriend, straining an already tentative relationship with my son's father and causing me to withdraw from my family and friends. then at my lowest points, i eventually reached out for help but in most cases, it was what i feared. most people don't really know how to help the helper. so i went back to doing what i used to do best - managing with whatever i had, not allowing myself to want more or expect anything, making myself as small and unobtrusive as possible, hoping that drama would pass me by.

i continued to try to do as i had been raised but usually wound up doing whatever would get me by. i used most, if not all of my resources until i felt like i was running on fumes. i had been running on empty for so long that it didn't take much to throw me. i only managed to pull myself out long enough to go to work with a semblance of a smile and not scream on my staff. i took care of my son but often pulled away from him because i felt guilty that i couldn't do more for him. i engaged in a dangerous push-pull with my boyfriend, everyday wondering if this would be the day i succeeded in pushing him away.

i was a mess. i am a mess, alternating between spinning out of control and paralyzing myself with fear and doubt. but today, i was stopped by a smile. an older woman, dressed in all white and carrying a walking stick, told me that god told her to tell me that everything will be alright. she was not one of the people i regularly pass by my job. i don't recall riding the train or bus with her. she wasn't one of my former clients and i don't think she attends my agency's senior center. in fact, she said that she had never seen me before and probably wouldn't again but she wanted to let me know that she loved me and that everything would be ok. her name was rosalee. my grandmother's nickname was rose.