I’m sorry….not sorry

I haven’t felt very creative or inspired as of late. Actually several months now. Just really been on autopilot, going through motions.

But, I have been reading a lot of material on boundaries. Several different sources which I will happily list at the end of this reflection.

I have been talking with a therapist trying to work some pretty important things out. Self-work if you will.

My therapist heavily uses client-centered Gestalt theory.

I know this because my minor in college was psychology; I’ve studied 500 and 600 level classes. But while I do know a few things sometimes you need a push.

This is where therapy comes in.

During a recent visit she asked, “Do you think maybe you have a problem with boundaries?”

If you mean do I often avoid confrontation and become paralyzed by raised voices and the fear of making someone angry….yes

If you mean I have very often apologized to someone that has treated me badly when I did nothing…yes

If you mean my wants, desires, needs get put on back burner because of my perception of disappointment or fear of conflict with others…yes

As you can probably surmise this has been a lightbulb moment.

My husband, bless him, a wise man pointed this very thing out and scratched his head more than once long before this therapist.

We are working on a few things.

But I’m mostly working on me and still Reaching for Daylight.

Some resources I have found helpful.

https://psychcentral.com/

10 Way to Build and Preserve Better Boundaries

• Name your limits. You can’t set good boundaries if you’re unsure of where you stand. …
• Tune into your feelings. …
• Be direct. …
• Give yourself permission. …
• Practice self-awareness. …
• Consider your past and present. …
• Make self-care a priority. …
• Seek support
• Be assertive
• Start small

Boundaries: When to Say Yes, When to Say No-To Take Control of Your Life

Available bookstores and most libraries. By Dr.Henry Cloud and Dr.John Townsand

#mentalhealth #anxiety #depression #chronicillness #pituitarytumors #boundaries

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Seeking Light

I am at a quatervois. Actually, I have been standing at a crossroad for quite some time.

When I was raising my two sons. I taught them that every choice has a consequence, good or bad. Make good choices…reap good consequences, bad choices… well we all know what that means. I often wish that I would apply this wisdom to my own life.

I have a lengthy history of bad choices in regards of falling in love. Recently I visited a dear friend of mine. She listened as I told her the demise of my third marriage.

My favorite book is Eat, Pray, Love. Partially because it is relatable to situations in my own life.

I am forever seeking a spiritual connection. Preparing and eating really good food …I am a fan.

And Love….

I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

For reasons too numerous for this post. I am on my own again.

A little heartbroken, a little defeated but a little relieved.

Seeking the Light

I’ve lost my way. My mind is cluttered with memories best forgotten.

I’ve misplaced my lamp and my map. My faith is stumbling I’ve turned to look back.
What I should have done keeps me trapped.

Scared of what’s coming all I think of is running but I run in place ..no destination..no plan..no escape.
Here I am…again.
Running in place
The same old circles
Wearing a path
Wearing me down
Where is the light
Fervently searching
Not even a glimmer
My soul is hurting
My spirit is bruised
I’ve tried about all I can do.
You kept pushing..shoving me away. Lies and deception look ugly in the light of the day.

Freedom is pulling
It looks better everyday
I just bet that’s where the light will be glowing..

Angela Morrison
Reaching For Daylight

#poetry #depression #anxiety #divorce

Mirror…Mirror

Image from Google images.

My mirror has many opinions I wish it would keep to itself.
It’s casts shadows on my confidence.

The truth in 3D of age, stress, and strife.
A well worn image of life experience, all the travels through emotions laid out as a roadmap.

Trails of tears have led to pools of deep resting on my cheeks.
The signs of many many lost hours of sleep.
It speaks to me of criticisms from within.

If onlys are carried through my mind like a softly blowing wind.
Constantly haunted by the way it should have been.

Desperately trying to fit all the pieces together again.

Reaching for Daylight

Angela Morrison-Rakes

#depression #poetry #anxiety #bipolor2

Still..Reaching for Daylight

I originally wrote this poem about a year ago and titled it The Well. I have read and reread it since about a bazillion times. Made changes and edits, poets and writers will understand why.

I am now happy enough with it. (I think) I’ve given it a new title, I’m really happy with that!

Reaching for Daylight

I fall down deep into the darkness,the blackness of forever. A quiet so loud that nothing nor anyone can be heard.
I sleep the sleep of forgotten responsibilities. Curled up I cannot hear, I cannot speak. I don’t have to think.

I’m wrapped in a comfey blanket of gray, the opaque color of fog.
Where nothing can be seen clearly. Everything is cloaked in a saturated heavy misty gloom. Not dead, but certainly not living.

Arms and legs encased in concrete, prevent even the slightest move. Every mistake made, every self doubt keeps my brain screaming. Long ago words that were hurled like rocks hitting their mark are playing in my mind like some twisted loop.

On autopilot I accomplish the minimum. Canceled plans leave family and friends confused. I say I’m fine but that’s a mask. I’m unable to complete even the simplest of tasks.

As quickly as it came it sure is slow to leave. A greedy, sinister, interloper of my life has gobbled up all but a glimmer of light. It throws me down and sits on me until I can barely breathe.
But that glimmer is my saving grace starting as a whisper. I hear it low and faint. You must get-up and come back to the light, yes you can do it, but you’ve got to fight. The whisper increases volume GET-UP… GET-UP…GET-UP once more. You can do it, as many times before.

I begin to climb, claw, and scratch my way back. Im searching and searching for the path.
I plead to God for help with the baggage that I know I must unpack. Two steps forward and about 20 back.

I slide down a few times to the familiar darkness. Bruised, bleeding, and broken from my own thoughts. Hands are outstretched to me our fingertips brush. Just within reach, the whisper becomes clear…you must! You must perceivere.

Depression is an ongoing and an exhausting fight. But I know I have the strength within me to keep Reaching for Daylight.

Angela Morrison-Rakes

Images from Google search, I claim no rights to them.

#depression #poetry #writing

#family #light #love

Some Reflections

I was in a training class for some long forgotten terrible call center jockey job, when the trainer ( that is their title, as in training monkeys) asked for raised hands of women had been married more than once. I slowly raised my hand with the group of other women in class. Then he asked, “How many times?” So, he picked me to illustrate how many name changes a woman can have and the importance of asking the question are you known by any other name. Anyway, there it was…in red dry erase marker. Written across the stark whiteboard, my personal “trail of tears”. Gettysburg address long.

Angela …….. …… ….. …..

I had never seen ALL of my names written out in succession before, it was quite a line. Quite defeating actually. I remember thinking, geez I look like the whore of Babylon. Then I made a joke about could he please erase my trail of tears now and everyone laughed.

Some women choose to keep their maiden name. I know why.

With my now third marriage I moved to a different state. A requirement is to have your driver’s license transferred. A simple enough task for those who have never been married or men. They required doccumentation of every time my name changed. This meant I had to return to the state where married and get certified copies of two marriage licenses, plus my first divorce I went back to my maiden name, so copy of that decree. Plus my current marriage license. Two proofs of residency, my birth certificate and a partridge in a pear tree.

Needless to say between work and home responsibilities, and my never do anything in a timely manner personality. I drove on my home state license until it was set to expire, then scrambled to get all afore mentioned documents. Waiting in line at the DMV with my FOLDER of proof I am who I am, the gentleman in front of me produced two utilities and his license. Whaaat?

I had a license WITH a picture of me and my former name. Still looked the same.

The recent talk of refugees being vetted and how difficult it was because often no birth records etc. Has me saying, you think that’s rough try being a woman unlucky in love and BORN here.

#commentary #marriage #divorce #humor #life

The Truth

Afraid of the Truth an original painting
By: Rebekah Corah

The Truth

The truth lies somewhere between he said and she said.
Muddy water at best, a test to your emotions in your current space.
They said…. is tainted, be wary of others commentary on your truth.
Dig deep, you have to uncover the root.
If there is disease prune it off.
Nurture and talk to regrow strong.
Listen carefully make sure the information given is not wrong.
It’s often said the truth will set you free.
I’ve often found the truth is full of pain and misery.

Reaching for Daylight
Angela Morrison-Rakes
#art #poetry #writing

I claim no rights to published image found through Google search. I have given proper credit to the artist.

Crossroads

It’s been a trying few weeks in my world. They say, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” I’m not so sure about all of that.

One of my favorite poets is Robert Frost. One of my favorite works of his is the following poem.

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

I love this poem for numerous reasons. It speaks to me about doing your own thing, it may not be what everyone thinks you should do, the less traveled path is often more difficult to navigate but it’s your path.

Everyone has opinions, advice, etc. But no one ever has a plan.

There are no knights in shining armor coming to rescue you. Everyone has to find their path, clear the weeds and the briars that sting and stick you. Then keep moving forward. You may fall. You may even come to a seemingly impassible trail. You may even create your own stumbling blocks inadvertently through ill thought out decisions. (I’m an expert) but you must move forward. And….

Keep Reaching for Daylight.

#life #journey #poetry #depression #anxiety #chronicillness