RSS

Tag Archives: camping

Zelda the psychotherapist

I think I might be Brittny Spears.  Well, at least I am channeling her songs. One in particular, “Oops, I did it again,” rings true. I don’t know if Id go as far as wear the cheerleading outfit she did in the video, but I am certainly humming the verse.

I mentioned that I think my VW bus is magical. I think Zelda is also a psychotherapist. She is more of a sit and listen patiently while you talk yourself into a hole or self revelation.  She seems pleased with either outcome. zelda

I took her on our maiden camping voyage this weekend and felt waves of realization and actualization pound against my brain and heart like a hurricane on a dingy. I discovered and uncovered truth after truth. I was diminished and rebuilt.

I have been reading about how our childhood traumas leave scars on our ability to relate. We never learn or forget how to be flexible with other people and even with ourselves.  I am not laying blame with anyone.  However, at some point in my childhood, I learned to get attention by crying, and to put on a false bravado would protect you from harm.  I carried that on for a long time. The disparity of who I was on outside and who I was on inside was cavernous. I begged to be told I was ok, good, attractive, smart, whatever. I needed it because I had lost my true self.  I had hidden behind my false self.  I think everyone does that to a certain extent. I had just done it completely.  As the cavern grew, so did the pain. I drank it away. I flirted it away. I laughed it away. For awhile.

I thought I had truly met myself and was emerging as my true self over the last 9 years. I reacted differently. I enjoyed life. I tried to be alive. I dug into my heart and soul. I was dumbfounded with my need to escape once again a few years ago. I needed to feel intimacy. The marriage I was in had no real intimacy. We had lost the ability to communicate and also the desire to want to grow together. The need consumed me and my world exploded.

Again, I thought I had worked through that in counseling and self exploration. But, oops, I did it again. I tried to become what I thought someone else wanted me to be. I was afraid of not being good enough. I was afraid of being less than.  Again, I ran and hid. My life changed. I retreated into my soul and mind.

Zelda the Wonderbus allowed me to see that I have been doing it all over again here. I wanted to be respected, but I wasn’t respecting. I wanted to be liked, but I wasn’t liking. I wanted to be accepted, but I wasn’t accepting. I didn’t ing anyone or myself. I was not allowing for Namaste. I wasn’t allowing for the God spark that is in me to shine and frolick with all the other God sparks out there. I didn’t know my spark was just as valuable, just as beautiful, just as worthy as everyone elses. Not knowing kept me in darkness, hidden and afraid.

That Zelda—she is a wonder.

Advertisements
 
Comments Off on Zelda the psychotherapist

Posted by on August 31, 2015 in journey, life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Zelda meets the boy

zelda and meZelda the Wonderbus is magical. I knew it as soon as they unloaded her from the trailer. There was something special about her. I imagined adventures rivaled only by Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I jumped in and wheeled around the block. I got a few honks and waved proudly. The horn didnt work or I would have tooted gleefully. It was a few days later that I found out my brake lights and turn signals didnt work and decided the honkers were not waving at me like I thought. I had that fixed and got to work. I put in a laminated wood floor. I stained the cabinets and got new hinges for her. I put in a sound system. I bought seat covers. I sewed a new screen on her tent. We bonded. I think she cherished our time together. She always starts and she garnishes grins everywhere we go. She is even playful, once popping out of gear as I wrestled with the netting. She just wanted to be close to me as I had to scramble to the front to apply the brakes. Zany Zelda.

I have been in a quandry as of late. I find my self romanticizing the past and dwelling on love lost. I have oscillated between feeling like I should live out an 80’s movie and hold up a boom box or some other grand gesture or dive into self remorse and flagellation. I have been doing counseling and trying to learn about myself and why I function like this. It hasnt been easy. What I have found is that I have been unable to really relate to people my whole life. I have not been good at forming attachments or relationships. I, immediately, go to the needy stage and live only as others see me. I had no true self.

My long term relationship worked because she was all too happy to feed me an identity. After I got sober and started to come alive, it disturbed her. She withdrew and I panicked. I did not know myself and I did not know how to be in a relationship. However, I was tired of being dead and couldnt go back again. It crumbled and neither of us knew how to deal with it as evidenced by how nasty it became.

I spend some time trying to understand. I stood strong with my daughters and against some of the slings and arrows. I didnt crumble. I got knocked down a lot and always got back up. Things kept getting worse. I kept soberly moving forward. It started to brighten when I reconnected with an old friend of mine. We dated on and off for about a year. Looking back, I wasnt ready. I still had no idea how to be in a relationship. I had no idea how to love. What needed to start from the inside wasnt there. I quickly saw myself only as she saw me. I wanted to be that guy and was willing to try and be so. When I fell short, I would run away. It became too painful for either of us. However, I still cherish the time we spent together. I did better in that relationship than I had ever done before.zelda with seven

Zelda and I went camping this weekend. She is spruced up and full of style. We decided to stay close but go somewhere I hadnt been before. I have been really pondering who I am and how I fit into this crazy world and taking a break from that would be awesome. Zelda is magical. Not in the fortune telling way like the machine in, “Big”. Or in the fantasy way like in the video game way. She is magical as she just wanted to be with me. She trudged her way up the hill at 60-65 mph (impossible many VW owners say). We found an unoccupied free camping site right next to a stream. We parked and I set up the site. Really, I unfolded the bed and put my memory foam topper on it. I sat with her and read. I listen to her sounds. She listen to me breath. I will neither confirm nor deny that I spent some time talking with her. The magic part is that she allowed me to see what had happened to me and what was happening now. She opened my eyes to the fact that I had isolated all over again. I was afraid. I have ben afraid since I was a kid. I am afraid that someone will tease me. I am afraid that I wont be liked. I am afraid I will be called a coward. I am afraid that I am “less than.” When the bottom fell out of my life, I didnt have to be afraid anymore. I knew that I could survive and be ok with next to nothing. As friends, collegues, family turned their back on me, I saw the truth of who was left. As I scrambled financially, I saw the truth of wants versus needs. As I felt unforgiven and judged by the church universal, I say the loving and forgiving Grace of God. I felt the comfort of Abba. What Zelda showed me is that I am afraid again. I moved to an unfamiliar state, took a different job, left a love interest, set up house in a place 8 hours from anyone I knew. I went to meetings that have a different style and felt wrong. I agreed to restrictions I found silly and misdirected. I was over my head, alone, and without defenses. I was scared. I didnt think I was. I had fought hard to get here. I figured I would just keep fighting. The meetings got wierder, the job prospects unsteady. I wanted to go back to where I was before. I needed someone to tell me who I was and that I would be ok. I was addicted to avoiding my inner self, my true self. Zelda showed me. Under the fear, behind the locked door of my heart, hidden in the corner is that scared boy. He wants to relate. He wants to love. He wants to not be afraid. His arms are outstretched. I hugged that boy this weekend. I told him he was very brave for trying so hard. He was very smart for figuring out a way to get his needs met for so long. He is “just enough.”

Zelda started right up when I headed home.zelda front

 
Comments Off on Zelda meets the boy

Posted by on August 30, 2015 in journey, life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

 
The Shameful Sheep

shit storms, shame, and stories that make you cringe

What Gives?

Big ideas in a tiny body

Olivia Peters | Romance Author

Contemporary Romance by Olivia Peters. A different kind of fairy tale

extraordinaryappreciator

Wandering in my wondering...

shellbegly91's Blog

A modern business theme

Lessons From the End of a Marriage

A "How to Thrive" Guide After Divorce

Connecting Dots...to God

Theology in Context

K E R M I T ' S space

Life is JUST RIGHT

Beautiful Life with Cancer

Discovering the Gift

Globe Drifting

Global issues, travel, photography & fashion. Drifting across the globe; the world is my oyster, my oyster through a lens.

Handcuffs Hurt

Dan Madden

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Lydia Robbins

Hold on, let me write this down

HASTYWORDS

Life is Hard

prsqueenbee

advice from the eyes of a judgmental girl.

Tough Words about My Marriage and Myself.

Because some words are just too tough to say out loud.......

Public Catholic

Catholic in the Public Square