The Voicemail I Never Wanted

(A particularly rough day I had a few weeks ago, but I was still joyous to be alive and surrounded by dog love in that moment)

I had a wonderful experience going and doing my reading. The actual physical pain associated with flying across the country and being active constantly for 12 hours a day for several days was brutal, but I would do it again several times over.

Of course there were difficulties. Knowing people I care about are having a rough time and that so many people have killed them selves over not being able to endure the miserable feelings of trauma was very hard to face.

Luckily, I was always met with a loving hug from many people I had never met who just knew how impacted I get by realizing how terribly their past affects their present. It doesn’t necessarily affect your current day, but if your past led you to unhealthy people that you are still around today, it can make feeling as though being peaceful and content will be impossible.

The day I was flying home, a voicemail was left while I was in the air. I didn’t listen to it until today. Sadly it was the cancer and hematology doctors office calling saying they wanted to schedule an appointment immediately.

I don’t know what the future will bring with this. One will never know until they talk to a doctor who specializes in these things. Instead of being super stressed about it, I chose to go back to sleep. I didn’t get home until around midnight, was extremely exhausted, and even with the exhaustion, I wanted to go to wheelchair basketball practice. I have to keep living a life I enjoy.

So my alarm went off at 12:30 pm as that was the latest I could get up to pick up my dogs from the kennel and make it to practice. I had a moment of “why bother”? There is so much wrong with my body that it often feels overwhelming to fight it. I also terribly miss my son who I have been alienated from for nearly 7 weeks now. I used to fight hard for him. Despite my mom being my main abuser, I took care of her during her years of managing her cancer until it took her life. It was a very ugly process.

I will tell you why I bother. I bother as I finally figured out that I’m worth fighting for. I bother as I have not only genuinely figured it out, I have begun to meet a loving circle who reinforce I’m absolutely worth it.

I don’t necessarily require external validation that I’m a person of substance and meaning like I used to, but I never believed them anyway. I guess I sit back being incredulous that even with being so physically sick, I am living a very peaceful life with plenty of joyous moments. (Don’t worry, I cry plenty and get angry enough to make me normal, and my personal cure for anxiety was to let my feelings out instead of holding them in or working to avoid them.)

If you would have known me a couple years ago, you would know that I constantly lived with depression and anxiety. I hated life. I was alone. I went through the motions of life such as going to work, running those dreaded weekend errands, trying to be the best mom possible given how crappy I felt and was dealing with mysterious physical symptoms that had plagued me for years. I had a psychiatrist that believed if an antidepressant gave me mania, then we gave me something to slow me down, then if it slowed me down too much, I got something to speed me up, and so it went until I was on a dozen psychiatric medications for problems that were side effects of the pills. I just put out that warning as it’s sadly how many psychiatrists operate, and it’s a horrible cycle to get stuck in. If you are in that circle, please seek a second opinion!

Luckily, I met a psychiatrist who got me off the pills, told me to get some really good therapy for my trauma and a medical doctor who believed me. She saw me as a person, not just some label she picked out of the DSM.

I know that first brief meeting with her was one of the first times I felt believed that psychiatric medication was probably causing me more psychiatric problems. I’m happy to say I have been psychiatric medication free for a very LONG time. I’m not advocating stopping your medication. If your true problem is trauma, I would recommend getting the best therapy you can and question every diagnosis they give you. I was diagnosed major depression, generalized anxiety disorder, schizoaffective, bipolar… None of it was true. I recognize that I will always manage my CPTSD, but it no longer manages me. Having a severe trauma history is about my past, not how I’m currently living.

I also didn’t stress much about the cancer doctor voicemail as I am grateful to be alive as long as possible. I mean, I’m alive! I’m very alive in that I enjoy life and even in the moments I may have high pain or unable to move as I overdid it, I work at staying grateful to just be here. I could only play basketball for about 45 minutes out of 3 hours, but I did it! I showed up.

I also know that after I gave my reading/ speech last week, so many want to buy my book and encouraged me to go into public speaking about the power to overcome and stay with what is good instead of succumbing to the black hole that is trauma and/or chronic illness.

What is good for me now is that even if I have cancer and obviously all these other neurological problems, I will continue to keep going. I love myself enough to try. I may not see my son, but I love him enough to try, and for all the people who surround me with genuine love to lift me up, I will try for them as I know they won’t let me fall alone.

Sometimes people make it through things. Sometimes they don’t. I know that I have this moment and despite my trip being very mixed with emotions, I realized I have a gift that was very externally validated. I will work on my gift. I will work on my neurological problems, and looks like I might be working on cancer too. At the same time, I will work on my book and perhaps public speaking and anything else that seems worthwhile. I will also work on myself.

So it might not have been the voicemail I wanted, I also realize I can’t wish this away or worry it away. All I can do is be myself and love what I have, but really more about loving who I have and who I have become.

Become the person you always wanted to be. Love who that is. You are not failing even if it seems like you really are. You may feel unloved or alone, but I promise that if you work at it, you will find loving people. You can always email me. I will give plenty of love!

Love (see the love!)

Lizzie

Well I Can’t Sleep, So May as Well Update

A lot has happened in the past couple weeks. More probable diagnoses, continuing to miss my son that I have now been alienated from for over 6 weeks. There has just been a ton of sadness.

I will say, as I’m one to focus on my joy as staying mired in sadness keeps me stuck. Grateful that I have so many sons and daughters who I never got have legally mine, just young people I’ve mentored over the years. My own son isn’t legally mine, I’ve just been in his life since he was 3 days old. He’s now 12.

I was able to go to an alumni weekend for the place I went to residential treatment for my CPTSD two years ago. This is special to me as I was actually thrown out of this residential treatment and was never an official alumni. So going to an alumni weekend back to a place that reinforced how worthless I was and that my trauma was too much and I was too much… It meant a lot

I was surrounded by so much love for 3 days. I got some of the closure I desperately needed. I was also able to give an honest reading/speech about how much I have healed from trauma and how. It was wonderfully well received. People asked when my book would be coming out as they wanted to be first in line to buy it. Others encouraged me to go into public speaking. While others recognized I have a gift for helping others. I don’t want to be a therapist or counselor, but I do know I have to get my life goals together as no matter how long I live, I can spread of message of healing.

I will spread the message, even beyond this blog. I’m honest about how I feel. The weekend had wonderful moments. Also plenty of heartbreak. There was the entire gamut. If there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I’m glad I went.

It was outside of what I felt I could do physically, but I’m glad I pushed myself as I pushed through without regrets to do something I needed for a long time, closure. I’m definitely physically suffering in big ways now.

The top photo is of my zoom in of me in our group shot. The last is after I did my reading of my own writing , how well it was received, and so much support to continue writing and speaking. Wish I could share more. I will post my speech/readlng once I make it back and rest and can utilize my computer brain again. Keep falling asleep while writing this.

After doing the reading I was glowing hugely. I wrote the speech in under 45 minutes, so it wasn’t my best writing, but it was so loved by everyone.

I will say that no matter who you are or what you’ve been through or not, it’s important to be surrounded by love and support occasionally. It’s great to be lifted up and say you’re talented when you have been hiding your talents out of fear of being rejected. I wasn’t rejected at all. I was embraced.

At our closing ceremony, I received so much love for what I had said in my reading, about me as a person and how I have chosen to manage what I have been dealt with an air of gratitude, and was granted a bit of closure I have needed desperately. This final picture is me crying huge tears of joy being embraced by a woman I have huge admiration for. I am crying HUGE tears of JOY! A remarkable feat for someone who rarely to never cried for 10 years until I decided to start healing.

As you will hear in my speech, illness has been a gift for me. It gave me the time to stop and examine how I was living and how I wanted to continue to live, which was not in misery over trauma that had happened in the past. I am choosing to live as peacefully as I can even with all I go through. My present time may be filled with health problems, but I am safe from abuse.

(And this was definitely not my best writing either as I have fallen asleep several times over the course of 3 days trying to get this done!)

Love

Lizzie

Rambling Through oughts on so Much I’ve Gone Through the Past Few Weeks and the Lessons I’ve Learned

I have figured out nothing about life is perfect, nor am I, although I have incredible moments and do incredible things. This includes ways I interact with people, ways I do things, ways I face life. A naivety to trust and dole out too much kindness to people who don’t deserve it is actually not good. Will I still smile at random people, give to others as I can, work at being a good compassionate person/friend? Absolutely. I believe kindness will always get you much further than negativity.

Interesting is that I learned about boundaries. At first I felt mean for setting boundaries as I was always the “nice” girl. Even if someone severely wronged me, I was nice. It seemed like the whole world should like you. WRONG! I sacrificed my own well being to be nice. Boundaries sometimes have awful consequences, but with time, as you stay in your integrity and recognize you have a loving heart, and even if it may take years, you will come out on top. People who set boundaries with you, but are also willing to discuss why and engage in healthy conflict are the best people to have in life.

Sometimes you have to apologize. Even when we act with compassion and love, we make mistakes. I make plenty of them, and I do my best to sincerely apologize. If someone will not see your effort at being a better person when you make an attempt to make amends, leave them behind. You don’t have to explain yourself dozens of times and grovel.

As I have removed practically every old friend in my life and even “chosen family” who didn’t care for me wiping “doormat” off my forehead when I returned to my city after being gone a year and realized I grew and changed, but they didn’t, huge doors opened for me to meet an authentic circle who care about me for me, not for what I can necessarily do for others.

Being sick sucks. I had a huge energy boost the past week. I began another series of IVIG infusions today. The energy is gone replaced with feeling terrible. The infusions are necessary as they give me those moments of feeling great. I realize as I will now be doing this just about monthly, I will lose one week to have 3 good ones. I will appreciate my 3 good ones, but after doing so much recently, it was a blow to feel terrible again. I somehow forgot the nasty side effects even though it was only about 6 weeks ago.

Hobbies are important. Even if you are busy with family and a job and only get 2 days off a week, do something you enjoy in some of your spare time. I enjoy yoga, love my wheelchair basketball team, enjoy reading, and writing is a passion. I’m trying to get the gusto to paint again. Don’t forget about you as you go through the business of life and don’t forget to spend time with people you love no matter how busy you get.

Our time on this earth is limited. I have had to face it over and over as I have ridden the roller coaster of feeling like I’m dying to having hope I’ll actually get decent treatment.

Which leads me to my final rambling, just let things go. There is so much we can’t change. If we get stuck in the future and what might happen, it will give you great anxiety. I decided to let the worry about my future of my health and the implications of having many diagnoses, but I also have some very troubling symptoms worrying many. I’m stepping off the roller coaster. I will still follow through with what I’m asked to do medically. I will continue to dig and dig and research until I literally fall asleep as the phone falls on my face to find foods I can eat with my gastroparesis that aren’t just white bread and pudding. I will still advocate for good medical care, I will continue to do yoga, meditation, and do everything possible to stay as healthy as possible, but I am letting it go. I’m letting lots go. I’m not fighting with irrational people or ideas no matter how unfair it may seem. Just letting go to do my thing as peacefully as possible and enjoy a life that none of us will never know when it will end.

Step off the busy path. Give yourself some peace. Enjoy your company. Find something that brings you joy.

And I take it back, I find nature is perfect. This final picture is of one of the mountains I see when I drive to the hospital infusion center.

Love

Lizzie

Yeah, So All I Did Was Go To Target

After being extremely ill for what’s been years, but very seriously for 19 months, shopping isn’t one of those things you tend to do. Living alone, my biggest shopping outing is going to the grocery store occasionally and the pharmacy. Not too exciting when it’s a chore.

I discovered the beauty of amazon prime and subscribe and save, so my basic items just show up at my door once a month without fighting for energy to just get toilet paper.

My neurologist over a year ago recommended I go as chemical free in my home as possible. When I saw my chemical free shaving cream was over $9 on amazon and know it’s around $3 at target, I decided today was going to be my first attempt at shopping in a regular store in over a year. (Says how much I haven’t shaved in a year if I only needed one bottle in over a year!)

So after yoga, I got my blood drawn and headed to target. Don’t worry, I didn’t buy a basket full of stuff. My basket was full of my purse, water bottle, and light jacket. I decided to just wheel around and look as after so many months of mostly being stuck at home, a trip to target was a huge deal for me.

I’ve been very lost in grief with losing my son and a lot of ick medical news from my primary care on Monday. It was getting the best of me. It was blocking my will to do much of anything.

As I get used to using my wheelchair more, it gives me energy. It’s hard to attempt to walk on legs that are pretty useless. It was also a huge source of my fatigue. If you can imagine how tiring it would be to walk in legs that don’t work, it’s pretty unbelievable. As I can “technically” walk, even though I collapse a lot and fall over regularly, resigning myself to using my wheelchair has been hard.

As I get involved in the disabled community, I’m learning that there are lots of wheelchair users who can walk a little, but like me, it exhausts them. I always had the misperception that wheelchair users couldn’t use their legs at all. So not true.

It’s exciting to create life where I can be mobile. I also know it will exclude me from places and organizations, but I’m not interested in supporting places not interested in supporting my needs anyway.

So much about me has changed these past couple years since I decided to truly be better from my childhood trauma. My emotional well being is so much more solid (I definitely falter and question too), my body has fallen apart, but as it has, I have learned to treat my body with true love and take such good care of myself. I’m physically stronger than ever. I did my first headstand ever in yoga today! You want to talk about some strength. I ended up doing a somersault the first time, but with my teachers encouragement and support, I was doing it. I love her!

So it’s been an interesting time of grief and triumph. I suppose that’s how life is in general. Some of us just have bigger times of highs and lows, but even tiny things can seem huge. Honor your sadness whether it feels warranted or not. The only way to smash through anxiety is to feel your feelings. If you feel it, it’s valid.

I am preparing to begin another round of IVIG Monday, and it means lots of preparations around the house. I hope I can get it done. I also want to pack my sons room and store his things in the garage. I know most likely if I get to see him again, he will be too big for his clothes and too mature for his toys. I will keep a special box of things I know he will want.

I hope someone will come help me with it. It will be an emotional moment, but I also know it’s necessary. Staring at a child’s room as if they are just going to show back up when you know they aren’t going to is a bit much for my emotions to handle.

I will still keep his pictures up. The last piece of art he did was a “yin yang” symbol. A representation of the balance of the good and the bad. It’s something I will hold onto forever.

As I grieve the fact that I was supposed to be referred to an oncologist months ago, the fact that I can barely eat, perhaps have Myasthenia gravis, plenty of invasive testing I will have to do out of state, and most likely alone, I look to the love I receive at the same time. I have been offered huge support in losing my son. My medical issues are mundane and boring to many and have dropped out of my life, but I still have plenty sticking by me as they see me persevere.

Sometimes I can accept unconditional love, sometimes it’s impossible with all the rejection I’ve been through over a lifetime. People who can love me so deeply are wonderful, but also a bit scary. I’m sure anyone with CPTSD understands this process.

So when they landed on the moon the first time, Neil Armstrong said, “one small step for man. One giant leap for mankind”. For me, it’s, “one small trip to target. One huge leap in doing the impossible”.

Love

Lizzie

Moving Beyond Pain

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It has been 3 weeks since I was blocked from any communication from my son. It has by far been the most difficult thing I have ever experienced beyond any childhood trauma, ugliness, uncertainties with my health, losing friends…

Even though my son isn’t my son in a legal or biological way. I stood in court along with his dad and pledged to be his parent on adoption day. The only difference is that I didn’t sign anything official. He was the son the universe gave me.

Looking back, I should have been more assertive. I should have used my voice. I wish I was strong enough back then, but I wasn’t and what I’m learning is that all we can do is forgive ourselves.

I read a beautiful tribute to “letting go” in my parental alienation group. It had to do with realizing there’s nothing we can do to get our children back. Even if we move on, they stay with us in our hearts. The best part was when he said something along the lines of us living good lives has an indirect positive effect on our children.

So today, I worked on “letting go”. I’m absolutely not letting go of my child, but I have to let go of the pain even though it will ebb and flow. I have to become a person my son will always be proud of no matter what happens. If I see him again or never, at least he will eventually hear the stories of how I continued to live with love.

My son had the benefit of seeing his mom overcome a near lifetime of depression to know peace and contentment. He got to see me smash barriers as I became more sick and eventually totally physically disabled. I hope he holds in his heart that you can overcome anything. I don’t know what’s happening in his life right now, but I hope he holds onto the lesson that even the worst of the worst can be approached with forgiveness and peace.

My reality is I don’t know if I’ll live long enough to reunite with him. I do know that I’m writing to him constantly in a journal for him. I also know that my first personal book I publish, not the one I did as a freelancer, will have many beautiful stories about him, which he will always be able to find.

In “letting go” today, I was able to write 10 pages of my own book. It gave me a renewed love for writing and being creative and how important it is for me to continue with those pursuits as I regain my own sense of peace.

I suppose I feel what “empty nesters” feel when the last of their children grow up and move on. I never expected my nest to be empty when he was 12.

All I can continue to do is live with gratitude that we shared some extremely special times. I also know that no one else’s negative actions towards me, no matter how unfair, cannot have the power to make me miserable forever.

I will probably still be hit with those gut wrenching sobbing moments of missing him so much and be hit with worry that he’s ok.

I hope he’s playing with friends, enjoying middle school, learning interesting things, and shaping into the beautiful spirit I know he is.

Over the next few days, I plan to pack up his things and decorate his room so it’s not quite so painful. The truth is that the clothes, shoes, and toys of his, he will probably outgrow by the time I see him again. I’m not erasing his existence. I still have pictures of him, but the little things like taking his toothbrush out of the holder and placing it in the drawer give me my power back.

I intend to offer his room to chronically ill people as many people with ME/CFS come to this area for treatment. If my son won’t use his space, I could have a series of temporary roommates to stave off loneliness and know I’m giving back to a chronic illness community that has given me so much despite not having that particular diagnosis.

“Letting go” can look like all sorts of things. Are there material possessions you need to get rid of? Do you need to let go of hatred of someone who hurt you so you can truly heal? Maybe you have to let go of your child as I have as you know that for right now it’s best for everyone. Perhaps best, but also extremely painful.

I want to honor anyone who is letting go of something. It could be an idea of who you thought you would be. It could be losing a pet.

Letting go sucks, but I’m hoping it will also bring me freedom.

(The picture is of when even when I would feel sick, I would take my son out in nature. He was free to explore even if all I could do was lay on the ground. He often just chose to cuddle and look at the trees. Wow I miss him)

Love

Lizzie

Limited Time

It’s certainly been an interesting few weeks in terms of lows. I’m not usually one to get lost in the minutiae of disappointment. I may feel blue for a few hours or a couple days at most, but this has been nearly 3 weeks of hell since my son has been blocked from contact with me.

To top it off, I went to the GI doctor yesterday, who didn’t sugarcoat anything about what I was going through. My gastroparesis is severe. I’m losing about a pound every other day. It leads to lots of fatigue and inability to often think clearly as I can’t think if I can’t get enough calories.

If you don’t know, gastroparesis is a paralysis of your stomach, usually caused by diabetes. In my case, it’s probably been caused by my neurological problems. For me, everything I eat makes me severely nauseous, my stomach bloats like I’m 9 months pregnant, and the pain in my stomach is so bad that all I can do is curl up in a ball, take some nausea medication, and hope I fall asleep long enough for the pain to pass.

Between losing my son and the gastroparesis, my zest for life has certainly waned a lot. The GI doctor told me the outlook is grim and treatment options slim due to the neurological problems. He’s going to send me to a GI specialist in California who is licensed to prescribe a medication that is illegal in the United States, but you can get it for grave circumstances. Despite even if I figure out how to get to California and get this medication, the doctor was clear it will only help for 1-2 years and essentially after, my body will starve itself to death.

Not the greatest of news to accept. Especially when you have done so much to make your life as good as possible despite every odd imaginable. So many have reached out to say “you are a source of light for me”. I don’t feel too inspiring right now.

I’m fortunate to have a friend who came over for 4 hours last night who gave me the space to cry, grieve, be angry, not understand how unfair this all feels to me. She didn’t say “you’re strong” “you’ll overcome”. She just gave me plenty of wisdom that didn’t have anything to do with a pep talk. She is a true Christian in how she professes and emanates love. I didn’t need a pep talk last night. I just needed someone to accept my grief. People who can sit with you through it are few and far between.

I think many of us just want to fix each other’s pain and tell them it will all work out as we are uncomfortable with our own painful feelings. I have learned over the course of the past couple years to not tell truly sad people it will just be ok. People in grief just need to be accepted where they are, sad, angry…

I hold space for plenty of people to just be sad and grieve. It was wonderful to have someone sit with me in person and give me the space.

Another friend from college in San Francisco was visiting my city to come see family. We haven’t seen each other in 15+ years. She knows of my health struggles and took time out of their busy schedule of visiting family to come see me this morning for several hours. I was also allowed the space to just be ok with how much this sucks.

The power of friendship near or far, old or new, is extremely powerful. I never would have allowed myself to be vulnerable with anyone a couple years ago. I thought smiley people were the only ones people liked. Surprisingly, the more authentic I am (with people who can actually handle it) has allowed me to develop more meaningful and close relationships.

Sometimes I support people. Sometimes people support me. Sometimes it’s reciprocal. I realize my inner circle is small, but today I sit with gratitude for knowing people truly care whether I laugh or cry. I sit with gratitude for not having to pretend always. I sit with gratitude for people who don’t judge me. I sit in gratitude for being loved for who I am instead of what I can do for people.

And I made it to wheelchair basketball this afternoon despite not having the proper calories to play and resting a lot. High impact sports where you crash into each other a lot and hard and people who get mobility challenges has become a highlight of my week. My affinity for my teammates is huge even without knowing much about their personal lives. I suppose it’s why being part of a team is so important. We have each other’s back no matter what as we are a team.

So plenty of ugly happenings, but I originally started this blog wondering how do you become authentic with CPTSD and developmental trauma when you learned nothing of what authenticity or being truly human meant growing up.

After over a year of searching, I’m learning that you just be real. Don’t pretend life is ok when it absolutely isn’t. Of course, not with everyone, but with your inner circle. If they really are your inner circle, they will accept everything about you and be just as excited to share in your triumphs as well as your devastation. They won’t give you a pep talk when you just need to cry. They will set healthy boundaries with you and accept yours. They will engage in healthy conflict to grow closer instead of avoiding it.

Think about it. It’s freeing even in my grief.

(This was my picture of throwing my hands up in the air as what do you do when so much bad gets thrown your direction)

Love

Lizzie

The Truth is that I AM Strong

Parental alienation is horribly painful. One thing in healing from my childhood trauma is that I went from being a mom who tried really hard to becoming a phenomenal mother. Many mom friends looked to me as an example of what a mom should be.

Was I a perfect mom? Absolutely not, but I did things with my son and for my son that were impossible given my circumstances and health. I took him camping for nearly 2 weeks this summer as a chronically ill, physically disabled mom ALONE! I also did things for him and took care of him, sometimes foregoing medical care as I couldn’t afford the copay or delaying getting a prescription as it was too much money. A friend paid my water bill 2 days before it was shut off as I was doing my best to take care of my precious child.

I did it without resentment as my son needed his mom. I loved my time with him. We had beautiful and precious moments together. I’m writing to him in a journal about every other day without any finger pointing or blame. My journal is about my love for him and the wonderful things we have done together. Sometimes I just write about my day or how a song came up on my playlist that he loved to sing with me.

It’s the best I can do when my child has been unfairly ripped from me. The other thing I can do is live my best and strongest life. I’ve been asking for help and support. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. I think parental alienation is hard to understand unless you’ve been through it. I will say my son is definitely not better off without me.

I understand he may be told I don’t care or don’t want him. It’s absolutely not true. I had to draw boundaries so I can take care of myself. If I can’t care for my health or end up having my water shut off as a result, I will be no good to my son.

I can only hope someday he comes back into my life. At that point, I can show him the journal and he will see how much love I have for him and never forgot him.

There are plenty of moments I break down sobbing as I miss him so much. I wake up in the middle of the night to roll over to rub his back and realize he’s not there, and he may not ever be there. If you haven’t experienced the pain of parental alienation, I hope that paragraph will explain just how heart wrenching it is.

The truth is that I’m strong. Last September, I was put on antivirals for my Epstein Barr that keeps coming back with a vengeance. I had a moment of feeling better. I knew I needed to go away as I hadn’t seen my son in quite awhile then either. I had to remind myself that I’m not just a victim or a sick person. I’m a woman with a “spine of steel” that someone very special to me has told me for over 20 years. The top picture is of me on an airplane flying to Tokyo all alone on a trip I had booked a mere 48 hours earlier with the last of my savings account.

I knew I would have spent that money on useless medical treatments, so why not go somewhere to get back to the root of who I am?

I don’t have the ability to take a random trip, financially or health wise now. Heck, i can’t even find my passport! I do have moments to remember my strength though. I can continue to write, paint, do yoga, and properly release my aggression through wheelchair basketball.

The best we can do is just continue to try. Abusive people don’t get to break us anymore. All we get to do is live a full life, while honoring our sadness and recognizing our joy. We also live plenty of average, in between moments.

No one can make me quit. I may feel heartbroken over losing my son, but as we heal and set boundaries, people of our past won’t like it. I was a doormat before spreading kindness to everyone, deserved or not.

I still spread kindness, even to those that hurt me, just not directly. I do the “loving kindness” meditation every night. I find I do it more for people who hurt me as I know if the people causing me distress accept loving kindness, they will envelop it into their own lives.

So for my son’s dad, I’ve been dedicating loving kindness meditation to him as I do wish him health, happiness, peace, and kindness. Even if it never comes my direction, I can only hope it extends towards my son.

I talk about parental alienation directly as I wasn’t going to as I felt like I needed to keep it quiet, but I deserve to tell my story. I deserve to be heard. I’m not finger pointing, but I am definitely sad. I miss my child more than I can express. The only people who understand this are others who have gone through it. It’s like a huge hole that can’t ever be filled. It’s also common for those of who heal to be subjected to nasty and awful things.

I can just go forth working on my strength and always with loving kindness whether it is ever recognized or not.

That was more my own motivational speech over for anyone else, but if you are experiencing parental alienation, send me an email or leave a comment. I’m finding some great resources.

Love

Lizzie