abundance · courage · family · forgiveness · fortitude

My Life is in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order

My Body is in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order

My Home is in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order
My Finances are in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order
My Time is in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order
My Family is in Harmony and in Perfect Living Order
Now that you’ve vomited, gagged, or simply stopped reading,
this is the phrase that occurred to me this morning. Particularly around my
These are affirmations, which means that they may not be
precisely “true” at present, but the point is to work at believing them, and to
bring them into being. Affirmations have a long history, with me too, of being
thought of as poppy-cock, and nonsense, and sooooo gushy icky lovey for only the really far out
hopeless cases of wishful, magical thinkers.
And, be that as it may, what harm can they do.
It’s like the removal of the paintings of women hidden from
the viewer. What harm can it do? It’s like seeing a holistic chiropractor who
recommended gargling with (diluted!) apple cider vinegar because I was getting
sick. What harm can it do? It’s like believing that my parents will behave themselves when they see
each other at my graduation.
Like the anxiety/control bug will do, this parasite will
glom onto anything to maintain its existence. And, currently, now that it looks
like I may well graduate (WHEW!), it looks like my parents are coming out to see me
“walk” for graduation.
I’m… anxious in advance. My parents were not the fighting
kind when they were married. They were the not talking kind, speaking, toward
the end especially, only about who has a dentist appointment that day, or when
they’ll be home, etc. So, it’s difficult to imagine a reality in which they
talk less, but, I’m in it. We’re in it.
In fact, it’s worse. Because now, there’s rancor and
distrust and dislike. There’s resentment basically. And for the most part,
since their divorce ten years ago, a) they do not talk, email, communicate
(except through my brother and me), and b) if they mention each other, it’s
with bile.
So, my anxiety bug has been glomming onto the event of their
being in the same place at the same time, and how uncomfortable their tension
makes me.
It’s been suggested that I can let each of them know that
this is on my mind, and that I look forward to a happy occasion. They don’t
have to be best friends – they never really were – they just have to get along
enough to celebrate a happy occasion. My happy occasion.
My therapist said yesterday that it’s typical for people who
have had to take on adult responsibilities prior to adulthood to get a little
paralyzed and fearful when faced with adult rites of passage, such as
graduation. That we have put on such a show and action of being adult before our
years that when we’re actually faced with real acts of adulthood, we don’t
really know what to do with that. There’s a feeling that we haven’t in fact
grown up enough to take on the responsibilities we’re being asked to take on.
The fact is, I didn’t graduate undergrad with my friends and
roommates. I was in a mental institution at the time, coming off a combination
of drugs and alcohol, most of which noone knew I was abusing so much. I
remember my fear of what would happen when I graduated. This fear of going home
to live with my dad (my parents had only divorced that year) and knowing that
he and I were at odds. Seeing that my roommates and friends were all getting
ready to prepare for it, and I was in some bar, occasionally some bar in Philly, miles
away from school and responsibility.
And in a final act of “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing
– H E L P!!!,” I shaved my head – bicced it – in a moment of defiance, rage, and desperation.
I didn’t know why I was really doing it then – it seemed … logical? It seemed
like my only recourse. It felt like I was on that electric walkway at the
airport, and its moving along underneath me, but I’ve lost my footing, and its
dragging me, scraping me apart as others stand so calmly heading toward their
I did graduate, and “walk” a year later, once the chaos all
settled. But, certainly, it’s been on my mind as I set to graduate this May. The
same sense … or maybe it’s just a similar sense – of not knowing what I’m
doing; that I don’t know what’s on the other side of this change; that don’t
you know how lost I am still, and I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
However, the truth is much different. It’s different than my
fear, and it’s much different than the reality of 9 years ago. The truth is, I’ve
been told by my academic advisor that this fear is normal. I’ve been told by my
therapist that this fear is normal. And, I’ve been told that I am certainly not
who I was 9 years ago. That the resources and foundation that I’ve worked to
build is actually quite solid, and my fears are no more than that. Just fears.
Just worries that Molly doesn’t know how to do it perfectly.
That Molly is at a different place than some of her high school and college
peers with their children, spouses, and minivans. I’m just worried that I’m
still a foundering vessel – but I’m not. I can let myself be. I can let myself
fall into the abyss of despair, worry, and self-pity. But that really doesn’t
take into account the facts.
The fact is, I’m much more capable to take care of myself
and my life than ever before, and I have a host of people to help me when I
feel like I’m failing at it. And, the fact is that whatever happens between my
parents when they come visit is not a reflection that I have somehow failed. That their tense relationship is an
outside reflection of my inability to have a normal, sane, happy life.
Not true. And, so I will repeat the above mantras, in their
purpose to solidify from wish and desire to truth. And maybe even get a little
excited and proud that I have accomplished something rather remarkable. 🙂

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