Living Alone :: Being Independent as Being Lonely ::__________

There are so many stages I have gone through since my divorce.  I wish there was a handout, booklet, website, etc that had explicit instructions to follow.  I wish I could look into a crystal ball and see my future, or at a minimum, be able to know where I am on this non-linear path of healing. Is there an ending point?

It is so hard NOT looking at another, yes online stalking happens a little, and that leaves me not feeling worth very much. I am smart enough to know that social media is a place where others post to show off. I do keep that in mind. Still, it causes me to wonder what did I do wrong? Why wasn't I enough? What is wrong with me? All questions I hope any average, crazy person who shared nearly thirty years of her life with a cheating Narcissist might ask herself.

It is hard to see words of praise for an other's support, as if I never was a supporter. Note to self: Free up your hard drive! It's now okay to destroy those thousands of photos you took over the years. It is hard to see over the top gifts displayed, recalling I once received a picture of pocket waders as my gift.  Ordered too late to be on time, and so I could walk our dog without getting my feet wet.  Mostly, it's really hard to see my children displayed as items with the trophy.  I remain forever grateful that I have my children in my life, but I do not like to see them on display.  Surely divorce was easier when social media didn't exist.

However, this is not about the devil.  He has hurt me, but I have learned to let it go.  Divorce is a common thing in today's society, as is social media.  Surviving being with someone who has a personality disorder is not as common.  There isn't a T-shirt color I'll ever wear to symbolize my survivorship, nor are there runs or walks that will be done, but I am a survivor.  Each day that goes by, I look up at the heavens and say thank you out loud to the Universe for releasing me from so much hostility and negativity.

Reflecting on the five stages of grief that one goes through with a divorce: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, I feel I am somewhere near the end of my path.  It's been three years since my divorce was finalized, but longer since he emotionally checked out and then physically left.

Healing requires going through the emotional stages of grief.  In an attempt to speed the process, one couples these emotional stages with self-soothing strategies.  Dating sites are turned to and some less than perfect matches are tested out.  Some perfect matches too, but if one isn't fully healed, they cannot possibly open their heart and trust before they have fully grieved.  Other relationships MUST also be built.  Same sex, meaning the sex you aren't attracted to, friendships are important because one needs to have safe relationships that will not, involve sex.  When one is hurting, self-soothing with sex is a tool that unfortunately gets used.  To prove that one is still desirable, one can make someone else happy, and one still has it, sex becomes an unhealthy tool.  In the moment, the satisfying feelings seem justified.  After the fact, they only make one feel worse.  One wants to be desired not for sex, but for their brain, for how one compliments another, for their compassion, for their conversations, etc.  With longevity in mind, those other qualities are truly the most important.  Physically, we won't always be able to perform on cue...and I suspect our sexual appetite and stamina will betray us as we age.   At least so many commercials and ads seem to imply this will happen without help.   The sex you aren't attracted to relationships help build our trust, build our self esteems, and remind us we can be liked and loved for more than our bodies.  This is just SO important!!!!

I have spent the past few years working on and renewing my female friendships.  I am not attracted to females in the way I am to males.  Sorry, ladies!  I'm not the next Glennon or Elizabeth!  :)  I do believe that when some people get married, they buy into the societal unwritten rule that once you say "I do" that means you do everything as a couple...with your husband or wife.  I know in all my Catholic upbringing I believed it hook, line and sinker.  "The two shall become one", "...and a man leaves his family..." etc. In my being with someone who was so controlling, he was an equal opportunity abuser.  No one ever measured up.  Family, friends, no one was immune.  Behind closed doors I was told such negativity about others. Because I was the sounding board, I told myself others just didn't understand him like I did.  I told myself that I was special.

And I was special.  I could make him look good.  Until I started to know all his secrets, flaws and eventually outshine him.  Somewhere along the line I stopped putting him up on the artificial pedestal he is clinging to.  That was when I discovered, that even I was not immune to his brutality.  Thank you Universe for helping me be set free.  With my female friendships, I have learned to be validated in who I am, and to validate others in true and sincere ways.  I have learned how to be loved without needing to have sex to prove to someone else my worth.  Love takes so many forms, and I have so much to give. Having sex is just a tiny part of how I want to show my next greatest lover that they mean the world to me.  

When married, I know I had several years where I did need to put my children first, and I am happy I did so.  They were young, and they needed me.  As they aged though, I found myself missing something that went unnamed, and that I didn't even realize at the time I was missing.  Reflecting on the past few years, I'm not sure how I ever survived without my close, numerous female friendships.  My girlfriend groups have reminded me how to have a variety of conversations: deep and serious, light hearted and naughty.  They have reminded me how to go out with friends for dinner, and how to laugh with others and at myself.  I love our intimate conversations be they about our children, relationships, aging or something in the news.  I love hearing other opinions and thoughts, as well as sharing mine.  I suppose the take away from my marriage ending is I can tell my children, and anyone else who will listen to me say, don't lose your friends and friendships just because you get married!  Find ways to stay connected!  

The current challenge I have been working on is filling in that blank in the title. Learning to live alone and love oneself is another stage to truly healing. Living alone, I have been learning what I like, and dislike. I have become stronger in my confidences, my abilities, and in my strengths.  I try to solve challenges and problems on my own because I have become an even better problem solver. I don't need validation from some one else, because I prove to myself that I can, or that I know where to go, or who to ask for help.   There is comfort and strength in being independent. I suppose when I was married I unknowingly cowered a bit because I subconsciously knew marriages can end.  The old me certainly felt if my marriage ended I'd whither away into nothingness. How could I possibly survive?  I felt I was a vine, intertwined with my host and if uprooted, I wouldn't, couldn't last. In living life, I have discovered that vines, have so many more hidden roots and shoots.  They can't possibly die. In fact, they have so many that they come back even stronger than before.  Three short years ago, I thought becoming a healed me was impossible.  

I do still have fears, which I think are in our human nature. I am scared that this is as good as it gets. I'm scared I will be alone, and I will not get a chance at love again.  I don't know how I'll ever meet someone who wants a mature, curvy, independent lady as their soulmate.  My dental hygienist happens to be a woman and I've all ready said I'm not into women.  Sorry, Vicki!  lol  My opinion on dating sites is that the men my age there seem to be looking for young, needy things who will hook up and feed their egos.  I am not young nor am I needy.  I definitely am not shallow and will feed egos only if they warrant being fed.  I want to compliment someone and have them compliment me.  I don't need to be fixed.  I am perfect just as I am.  Being alone and being lonely are two very different feelings.  The loneliness I feel is from lacking intimate connection with another human.  I miss being held and kissed.  This was also a take away from my divorce.  It wasn't because I was married to someone who kissed and held me, far from it in fact. I learned this about myself from the self-soothing stage AFTER my divorce.  Self-soothing isn't a bad thing, as long as one realizes it doesn't help one move forward, it simply is a must for survival.  

Putting my faith into the Universe and still holding out for my complimentary partner, 

~Lisa Kroll
     Independent, Curvy, Smart, Animal Loving, Life Thinker, Survivor




     

Hoping in Tomorrow...

I don't have writer's block.  When there isn't anything posted, it is because I am dumping my thoughts on my private blog, or in my paper journal.  It means I am trying to decide what to share next. My personal goals are to accept how my life has played out.  I need to understand it, and why things happened as they have.  I need to understand my role, my needs, and my desires.  I am moving forward with my life.  If my writings can help someone else along they way, that makes me happy.  Not many truly understand what it is like to live with someone who has a personality disorder.  I didn't even realize that's what I was doing until I started to find my voice and put myself first. Our current political situation in America makes me feel the entire country is living through something very similar to what I have survived. The difference...  I was in the inner circle, and politically we are all at least one step removed.

I have been reflecting on what I have publicly written.  I do not have regrets for writing, but I realize that two posts ago I might have shared more than many people can handle.  As I re-read it, I know it doesn't sound like what happened could have been real.  It was.  I am glad that I documented in the moment exactly what did happen.  What I experienced was something that started long ago, nearly 33 years ago, and gradually built up.  I have been slow to mentally let things go, because I have had a lot to sort out.  It is something that I hadn't realized I had allowed to happen.  What I experienced was intense for someone in the line of fire. I have a little PTSD due to what I lived under, and it sometimes flairs up.  I am learning to recognize my triggers, work through them and not let them set me off.  Experience make us stronger.  There is risk in living, and in relationships.  Friendships are less risky than deeper, personal commitments.  When humans pair up, we trust that other person is on this ride with us, and are not working against us.  We trust they are going to build us up and be proud of our successes, not be jealous, or competitive and try to out do us.  I am a soul who loves deeply. I know people are thinking, "I wish she would move on all ready", etc.  I am, and at the pace I've needed. And I've needed a lot of time! I realize that what I have shared has been incredibly personal.  Sharing has been a necessary step in my healing.  My choice has been to write.

At this moment, I feel as if I have my hand on the door handle to my future.  You know that saying, When one door closes, Another opens up?  I feel like I am just about ready to turn the handle, open the door, AND in walking forward through the door, enter the next chapter of my life.

This is an exciting, yet scary time.  There is nothing standing in my way, except for myself.  Only my own fears are holding me back. I am still a little fearful.

Am I strong enough to speak my voice when I don't agree?
Am I able to let my opinion be known?
Am I ready to let down my guard and really open my heart to another?

Summer is here, and I think I'm ready for another adventure.

~Lisa Kroll
     spreading Love,
               and Understanding,
                      Positivity

Emotional Manipulation...an example

Mother's Day... a day when we honor our mom.

More than likely, mom is the woman who carried us in her womb for nine months.  She protected, nourished and loved us, before we even entered the world.  When a man and a woman have a child, it is possibly the most intimate experience they can share. Not long ago, men weren't allowed into the delivery room, but now they are not only welcomed, but are active participants, being asked to cut the cord that binds their child to his or her mother.  The woman may carried their child, but the man is the witness.  He witnesses the growth of his child as he or she goes from being a home pregnancy test result, to a small bump that grows into the size of a basketball.  He witnesses black and white images on an ultra sound machine.  He is witness to that incredible event of the birth of his child.  He witnesses as the child travels from the safety of the uterus, through the pelvic bones, and out into the world where the first breathe is taken.  A man witnesses the transformation of the amazing body of a woman.  There is no doubt, a woman's body is truly amazing.

I have given birth to two children.  To me they are blessings beyond compare.  I no longer need to protect them as I once did.  The nourishment I offer is mostly emotional, with a side helping of real calories. I love them more than they can every possibly know.  They are two amazing human beings...a product of the childhood they were given.  

Mother's Day 2013

In February of that year, he had started pushing me away.  What was wrong with me?  I didn't seem to be doing anything right. I sought therapy to find answers on what I needed to do to help change myself for him, for us.  We were still sleeping in the same bed on Mother's Day.  When I awoke that morning, I turned to him and confessed that I missed "us", I missed being intimate.  Had I expected the lashing that followed, I would have remained silent, I would have kept my thoughts to myself.  

I didn't expect what followed.

-----------------------------

me-What are you thinking?

            him - What are you thinking? 

me - I realize we are probably just going through something, but I miss our intimacy. 

           him - When did you see your therapist last? 

me-Two weeks ago, and I'll see her this week. 

           him - Why aren't you seeing her weekly?  Are you taking your meds?  

            Have you been taking your Xanax? 

me-The Xanax is only for panic attacks and I haven't needed those for some time now.

           him - What do you talk about in your sessions?

me-Well, I did tell her I miss our sex and she told me I need to back off and not push things. 

           him - What else do you talk about?  

            I mean, I know your sessions are private and not my business.  

me - Well, I worry about how much you ride, and you are the one who told me about Over Training Syndrome.  I wasn't even sure that was a real thing, so I googled it and you seem to fit all the symptoms. 

           him - That's part of being a high level, competitive athlete.

me - I know, I don't understand since I'm not an athlete.  

            him - That's absolutely right, you aren't.   

me - I just don't know any other high level athletes to compare my concerns about you to. I also am concerned because you seem more jovial with others than you are with me.  I'm just trying to figure out what I need to do to help this out.  I realize I'm a pleaser and I shouldn't worry.  I just feel like you give 150% of yourself to your cycling, and 150% of yourself to your job and there is nothing left for you to give me.  I feel like there isn't a balance.  I feel like all I get is a peck on the lips.

            him - "That's all I have for you." 

             You suffer from low self-esteem and you need to work on that.  It isn't my place to tell you daily that I love you, or that I find you attractive or that I think what you are doing is good. 

me - Well, do you feel that way about me though?

           him - Not all the time.  

           You are 49 years old.  When are you going to start taking care of yourself? You have a basket of pills under the bed and you are comfortable taking those to manage things rather than to exercise, and walking the dog doesn't count as exercise.  You need to get your heart rate elevated. 

me - I have so much to do around here.  I don't have time to exercise too.  

            him - What do you have to do?  

me - I have to shop, and cook, and clean, and walk the dog, and work. 

             him - Your priorities are off.  You need to find time to work out.  How much are you on the computer during the day?  How much are you on there morning, noon and night?  I challenge you to write down how much you are on either the computer or your iPad. 

me - You know, my mind just races.  I'm worried maybe you are having an affair. 

           him -  Is your goal to keep gaining weight?

me - I've actually lost 10 pounds since December. 

            him - Well, I can't tell. 

me - I don't care if you can't tell.  You can ask my doctor, they have official records. 

            him - "I'm not attracted to someone whose gut sticks out more than their tits.  

             Are you surprised to hear me say this?"

me - no (I was in absolute shock.)

            him - "I mean, come on (and he touched his own chest) have you looked at me?"  

                (exhale and pause) Do you want me to hold you? 

me - no

I took three xanax that day and emailed my therapist.  

Above is from my email.  Every word is true.  

This is what emotional manipulation from a Narcissistic looks like from the inside.  

I walked Winston as my escape after that conversation.  When I returned he asked if I wanted to go to Goose Pond and see what it was like.  He had asked me this once before.  That previous day we were to go after he went riding his bike.  When the time came for us to go, he was too exhausted.  Today I told him no thanks.  He asked if I didn't want to go because the birds were mostly gone.  I told him I really didn't want to spend any time with him.  

At my next therapy session my therapist told me I could believe what he tells me about myself, or I could go out into the real world and see what the rest of the world has to say.  She suggested I take a trip by myself.  You might recall that I went to the Grand Canyon on my walkabout.  Mother's Day 2013 was the catalyst.  

In September of 2013 he moved out of our bedroom.  In April of 2014 he moved out of the house.  On Mother's Day of 2014 he showed up at the house.  He was mad that I had changed the locks.  I told him he was the last person I wanted to see on Mother's Day.  He asked why.  I said don't you remember what you said to me last year?  His response, "I remember.  You're still in shock aren't you?" 

----------------------------

I needed to write this and share it publicly so I can be released.  I have held this in my heart every day.  When I look into the mirror now, I see someone who was hidden and is emerging.  I need the poison he fed into my soul to be out, and completely gone.  

I claim Mother's Day as mine.  

I do not suffer from low self-esteem.  
I am a warrior.  
I am roaring.

                  ~Lisa Kroll
                      Mother, Survivor, Love Warrior

Take me to Church...

Chapel of the Holy Cross, Sedona, AZ

Growing up, church was an important part of my life.  On Saturday afternoons, or Sunday mornings my family went to church.  One hour a week, this was our routine.  Church was where my mother's, and my father's family came together.  Polish, Italian and Irish, it was one thing they had in common. My church gave me a sense of place in the community. I was taught the rules from a very early age, and I knew how to belong.  

Annually, there was a church picnic to attend. Most of my spiritual socializing happened after church, as my parents would catch up with other parents/adults they'd only see weekly. Church was a place that was safe, where I worshipped with my friends. Catholic school wasn't something my parents could afford, so I was public school educated.  My formal religious education started when I was 7 years old.  I can still recall that late May day in 1972 when I made my first communion. I wore a short, white dress that had a chiffon overlay.  I was adorned with white, lace anklets, white patent leather shoes and little white gloves.  My first communion head piece made me feel like a mini-bride, or princess of the church.  It was just myself on the alter, and one other little girl.  After making our first communion, we were greeted by the congregation.  We stood on either side of the Priest.  Nowadays, entire classes of children make their first communion.  I attended catechism along side peers who were my church family.  After catechism, there were confirmation classes to attend.  My confirmation discussion class was very small, just a half dozen of us.  Today, I still have a few of those friends in my life.  Clearly, the Catholic church influenced my becoming who I am.

Right now, I find myself wondering where does my heart belong?  Is the Catholic church still right for me, or have my beliefs changed?  Do I believe in the rigidity of the Catholic church, or more in the ideology of belonging to a church? I know I have become a more aware, spiritual being as I have aged.  My life experiences have been anything but rigid or predictable, and they have influenced my thoughts.   

On February 12, I sat in church and listened to the words being spoken. I felt I was being spoken to directly and I can't shake the feeling I received from the message that day.  I felt a pain in my religious being; as if a nail was being hammered into the coffin of my soul closing me off from the church. I was made to feel that I was a sinner and beyond redemption.  The gospel reading dictated what was being preached.  Rationally, I know the gospel is a group of words from a very long time ago.  Surely humanity has grown and changed in it's beliefs?  Yet in 2017, many churches continue to read old words, and repeat history.  I suppose that is to be expected because the old words in bibles, etc have given so many comfort, and a certain amount of wisdom.  There are lessons to be taken from history.  Sometimes, history keeps people bound to old ways.  Change is not encouraged.  For me, the effects from that Sunday are making me rethink what having religion in my life means.  More precisely, what the Catholic faith means to me.  The full gospel reading was Matthew 5: 17-37.  What struck me first, were the words spoken on the alter that morning to start mass...'you should strive to: "be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect."' (Matthew 4:48)

When I hear the words 'be perfect',  I feel that means you need to live up to some set standards that have been defined by someone else.  My history has shown me that I cannot be someone else's idea of perfect. I feel I'm being set up to fail.  

The second thing that caused me pause, was how much of a misfit I feel in my own church. I truly feel like an outcast.  Matthew 5:32 "But I say this to you, everyone who divorces his wife, except for the case of illicit marriage, makes her an adulteress; and anyone who marries a divorced woman commits adultery."

As those words were read, I felt a bright, scarlet A was suddenly floating over my head, and I was sure all could see it glowing.  How can I even think of being perfect in the church's eyes?  Those exact words are in the bible.  Written when?, but spoken today...in 2017.

When I returned to the Catholic church several years ago, I returned after spending years feeling I was disappointing my mom.  I was married in the Catholic church, but I didn't raise my children to be Catholics.  Their father was not and I thought I could raise my children to be good Christians who understand there is more than one way to worship, to love and to care for all.  I believe in my heart I have been successful in achieving this goal.  But in the rest of my history, my mom first told me when she found out I wasn't attending church at all, "any church would be better than no church" in my kids life.  I agreed.  So I chose the church that my husband attended.  The pleaser in me wanted to make everyone happy.  The church that we attended, I found inspiring.  I became an active member.  It was a Christian based church - Geist Christian Church, Disciples of Christ.  I recall one time asking my mom if she would buy a raffle ticket for our church hog roast.  She told me she wasn't into supporting other religions. Ouch. Later in my child raising years, my mom told me she felt she was going to Hell because she failed as a mother.  Enter Catholic guilt.  "Two of my three children didn't turn out Catholic," my mother told me.  My response was she still had a chance with her youngest child.  My sister is the reason my mom went to Heaven.  Not my brother, and certainly not me.  My returning to the Catholic church was after my mom died.  I'm not sure I even believe in Heaven or Hell.  I'm more of the kind who believes spirits are all around us.  I do believe my mom was at peace when she passed away.  She was an incredibly, wonderful soul and I'm sure she found her place in Heaven.  Maybe my returning to church was to appease God on her behalf.  I know I did find comfort in the rituals and routine of church.  It was something familiar that I returned to.  Maybe I needed that familiarity to help get through the challenges in my life that would soon follow.

I tried to talk with one of the priests early in my deteriorating marriage, my husband had made it clear we were not something he wanted any more.  The priest told me he could see there was still love in my heart for my husband.  He told me I would find a way to make it work out. He said all would be fine. 

Months later, I tried attending an over 50's group potluck at church.  I was looking for support.  When I walked into the potluck, I realized it was not billed accurately. It was really a couples group.  They said "everyone was welcomed", but it was a couples group, and I was clearly the odd man out.  Call me Esther. Upon first walking in, I was asked if I was really over 50.  When I jokingly said, "do you need to see my drivers license," I was told yes.  I laughed uncomfortably, but did not reveal my license.  Minutes later I met the Deacon.  His first question was, "Where is your husband?"  I felt like a leper. There were single women there, but they had lost their husbands to death.  They were to be pitied.  They were accepted.  I understand that being divorced in the Catholic church means something very different in the church doctrine versus in the congregation.  The Catholic church offered me no support through my divorce. There was a divorce support group offered at another Christian based church in town.  I reached out, and I went there. I attended two rounds of a 13-week program. During those 26 weeks, my eyes were opened a little.  But I told myself, you're Catholic. That's your home. That's where you belong.  

Being honest, I have not felt like there is a place for me at my church.  I do see familiar faces when I enter the sanctuary.  There are 'regulars' I sit near, greet and know by name.  Many families and couples fill the pews around me.  I have enjoyed the ritual and routine of church.  As I rediscovered my love for music, singing the traditional songs at mass has also been nice. There is comfort in knowing the routine, and in knowing the expectations.  Is familiarity what I am looking for?  Or am I looking for acceptance? 

The old school mentality in the Catholic church cannot live forever, can it?  Surly the unrealistic demands on the rest of society will fade and change as the population demographic changes.  I do not think I can wait for the church to catch up to me.  My church is physically hurting my soul.  Maybe the message that followed the gospel reading that morning was one of acceptance and change.  Honestly, I was trying to stay focused on keeping my silent tears at bay so I didn't fully hear what was being said.  I was really sure my scarlet A was now attached to a large arrow pointing directly at my head.  Right here, it was saying.  Adulteress.  Right here.  I know I didn't do anything wrong.  But I am divorced and attending church.  I do not have plans to get my marriage annulled.  I was married for a long time. I made a commitment, and was honoring it.  I didn't make a mistake.  My children were created out of love, even if it was only love on my end.  I will not make them bastards, as my grandmother, rest her soul, would tell me they will become if I annul my marriage.  In the back of my head, I faintly heard the homily preaching family values.  It is important for core family values to remain strong in the Catholic church.  I understand their position.  Families need safe places they can go, as families.  But, I am divorced.  Yes, I heard something mentioned about gay marriages now to consider. The rest of what I heard was delivered without the conviction that love is love, or that we should love and accept one another. And not once was it said that we are perfect just as we are.

What I am realizing about myself is that I am not only discovering who it is that makes up me in my emotional life, or discovering who I am physically.   I am also discovering whom I am in my spiritual life.  This transformation I am going through is truly a complete transformation.

Spiritually, I think it's time for me to step away from my Catholic roots, at least for now.  I cannot attend a church that continues to endorse old norms.  I cannot attend a church that doesn't nourish me.  I cannot attend a church that hasn't changed as I have changed.  I cannot attend a church that doesn't grow.  I am perfectly me.  I'll admit, I don't quite see it yet, but I am.  I am a divorced person who is still capable of love, and tolerance, and acceptance, and who needs a church who preaches the same, while being able to nourish my soul.  I need a church who doesn't belittle her flock, but instead builds them up and makes a difference in this world.  We only have a short time on this planet.  I need to feel I am making a difference. I don't need to feel that I am less than acceptable.  

Change may be good, but change IS hard.  It's hard to break from the familiar and go to the unknown.  I've spent the past several years charting a new course for myself.  I didn't expect to be alone.  This has been hard, but it has also been good.  I wake each day feeling rested, happy, and grateful for another day on this wonderful planet.  

Not too long ago, this was not how I woke up.  I used to wake up being anxious.  I silently wondered what would I do today that was wrong?  I went to sleep each night feeling I needed to stay on a certain amount of the bed, not make any noises, and control all else.  Literally I needed to control ALL ELSE..things beyond my control: water dripping from the faucet, a dog barking at night.  As I closed my eyes to sleep, I would silently cry and wonder what was wrong with me?  I would physically lay on my stomach and tuck my right hand between the mattress and the box spring.  If during my slumber, I inadvertently rolled over my two foot limit (I sleep in a queen sized bed), I was shaken awake and told my offense.  If the toilet was stuck and running a little or a faucet was dripping, I was shaken awake and asked, "don't you hear that?" If the dog was barking at something out in the back yard at night and I didn't hear it, I was hostilely told "That god dammed dog was barking again last night.  I can't believe you didn't hear him." And if W happened to be barking before I fell asleep, I knew I needed to go and try to hush him.  If I didn't, the passive aggressive mannerisms, heavier than necessary footsteps to the basement and back, reminded me that I was at fault, yet again. Behind closed doors.  Emotional abuse.  Unseen by all, but felt deeply by those in it's path.  I am learning to let this go.  I am learning to recognize the patterns and put myself first.  I have felt crazy, but I am not.  

Again, change is hard.  Initially, I knew the crazy in my life, I knew my place, and I thought I knew how to manage it all.  I was willing to sacrifice to keep things as status quo. I hadn't realized there might be something different out in the world, or that the different might be something even better.  Daily I prove to myself, that I am capable of surviving the challenges and changes that fill my life.  I am not only surviving, but I am healing and happier.  Maybe it's time for me to reevaluate the place a church holds in my heart.  If I have been able to experience such positives in one area of my life...maybe I can feel those positive in other areas too?  Hm.

Chapel of the Holy Cross, top side, Sedona, AZ

I plan on praying over what the correct option spiritually might be for me.  I think I might take a sabbatical from my Catholic faith.  Maybe I'm becoming a spiritual vagabond, or maybe I'm becoming more enlightened.  

In 2013, I traveled alone on a walkabout that was the kick start to me discovering who I was once again.  I went out west to the Grand Canyon and Sedona for just under two weeks.  While in Sedona, I visited a church that was built right into the side of the rocks.  I can tell you, my spirit was touched and filled with peace and happiness while there.  I felt welcomed.  There were no set expectations on me.  I was allowed to just be me, and to shine as brightly as I could.  

Maybe it's time I stop trying to fit myself into defined, and confining boxes.  

*****

Ed Sheeran came out with his third album yesterday.  It's called Divide and I am overdosing on it.  I currently have his songs "What do I know?" and "Save Myself" on repeat.  

From the wisdom of Ed...

          "Remember life is more than fitting in your jeans, its
          Love and Understanding, postivity.  

          Love can change the world in a moment, 
          But what do I know."  

Maybe I need to go to the church of Ed Sheeran for awhile.  :)
I know I do need to allow myself to fall in love, completely, with all I do.

          ...."And before I love someone else, I've got to love myself"

~Lisa Kroll, 
eating, praying and still learning to loving this person who is me. 

Blogging music:  
When I first wrote this pots, I was listening to the music of Amos Lee, from his album Spirit.
My editing music has been from Divide, by Ed Sheeran.  
And, although it's a tad sacrilegious...SNC singing "Take Me to Church". 

Humor has a place in my soul.  
The power of words through lyrics 
and stories 
inspire me 
and help me dream.

Untethered....

Loose strings...Don't pull, cut them!  That's the rule.  If one pulls a loose thread, the edge of whatever the thread is attached to will unravel. Then what?  The edge may slowly, or quickly, fray.  

On the other hand, when given a helium-filled balloon, one holds tightly to the string.  Sometimes, the string is circled around, and around something, before being tied securely, and anchored down.  Time and again, strings for balloons work their way lose.  They either aren't secured properly, or they slip through fingers, whose owner was sure they had a tight grip.  Once untethered, helium-filled balloons drift, higher and higher.  It is believed they reach a certain height and then explode, shattering into many tiny shards, before returning to Earth.  

Lately, I have felt untethered.  When my marriage ended, I was left with most of the responsibilities we had shared together.  A major part included the family pets.  One was a diabetic and needed shots twice a day.  Never mind the cost of her medicine and needles, she required a lot of time management. I was tied to her by time constraints.  The other responsibility was the family dog who was 14-years old.  The typical lifespan of his breed is 10-12 years, which makes me realize he had a purpose for coming into our family. Dogs can't be left for days without human interaction.  He needed companionship, food, fresh water, and walking.  So did I.  I was tied to being home for him each night. New, to the full-time work force, and as a first year teacher, I couldn't spend as many long hours as I would have liked working in my classroom.  I'm sure that was a blessing in disguise. The end of my family pet responsibilities happened when both had their lives come to an end, within three months of one another.  The emotional fallout from their loss is still with me. It's only been a few months.  Sitting near Lily as she took her last breath in September has seared a spot in my brain, and on my heart.  I had no partner to be by my side.  For better or worse... I had to do that night alone.  I am capable.  I can do alone, and I did.  In early December, Winston started having troubles.  He was a large dog, and Lily's passing was so fresh in my brain...I knew I couldn't handle him dying at home.  Again, I had no partner to help make that decision.  I had to do that night alone too.  I am capable.  I can do alone, and I did, again.  But something broke in me that night.  The ties to my past life were suddenly gone.  I was set free.  I am untethered.  I am drifting.  I wonder if balloons can look down and see the beauty beneath them? Actually, I wonder if there is beauty below?  I search the Internet, I see pictures from satellites of planet Earth...Is that beauty an illusion?   I am not seeing the beauty yet beneath my untethered self. 

When a person is married, there are constraints.  Expectations.  Roles to be filled.  Different people perform different roles.  As I grew up, I believed the roles to be more defined.  Nowadays, the roles are neither defined nor are they gender specific.  I believe marriages today need to be more like partnerships. I don't believe my ex and I were very good examples of a true partnership. There was give, and there was take.  But there was not real give-and-take. Narcissists are incapable of giving without taking.  I look at my adult children and know they will find someone to share their lives.  They will likely grow with that person. At least that is my hope. I hope they form wonderful partnerships. I know, that won't happen for me at this stage. I think at my age, I'm not sure I can grow with anyone. I am fairly well defined as a person. I am more than capable.  I can do alone. I am responsible. I can take care of myself. I can pay my mortgage and bills. I can cook for one, although I have experience cooking for many.  I can manage my yard. I can work full time. I can go wherever I want: traveling, the movies... whenever I want... and I can do it by myself. I don't need to be taken care of.  I can solve my own problems, although I am grateful that I have friends I can call when I need.  Calling on others for help is not something I am used to doing.  For 27 years, when I showed weakness...and needing help was weakness...I was made to feel there was something pathetic about me.  So, my being able to ask for help...that's a big deal.  

Untethered.  Will I drift higher and higher until I shatter into a million little pieces?  What will happen after that?  Is this the time when I need to embrace myself for whom I am?  Learn to love myself?  Give myself a break?  Oh, my heart is so broken.  Maybe it's all ready shattered.  I want to be brave and let someone else in to help me piece my heart back together. I need someone who is farther along on this journey.  I need someone to enter my life who has what I have, but maybe he has even more.  I need someone who has more to give; someone who enjoys the things I enjoy, and can offer me new experiences. I need that person to not only help me see the beauty, but want to experience that beauty with me by his side. Yes, I want to be swept off my feet. I want to be romanced. I want to be wowed, and wooed. I am drifting. I am not ready to shatter.  I've done old married couple, and I don't want to repeat my past. I'm not saying I don't ever want to be married again. I just know I need more now.  Looking back, I feel I let myself be made to play a certain role in my marriage, I was being put into a well-defined box.  I no longer see myself as fitting into any box.  As Laura Petrie found out when she opened a box delivered to her house, once out, it's hard to stuff something back into a container that is so confining.  (view video from 20:35, for fun.  From: The Curious Thing about Women episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Air date: January 10, 1962) 

If asked, my defense mechanism is to say that I've had my chance at love. My heart doesn't really believe that, but I am so scared of being hurt again.  Maybe, I'm just not healed enough yet. Time...please work your magic. I do feel very untethered right now, in this place and in this time.  

~Lisa Kroll

        untethered, wanderer, animal and nature loving, romantic, adventure seeking soul, who cannot be contained...still eating, praying and loving, but working on loving me these days as I continue to find my voice. 

This Mustang chases Porsches....

The highway was straight and flat.  The black Camaro entered the highway and pulled up alongside a red Mustang, both young male drivers, were doing over the posted speed limit.  IROC-Z vs. 5.0 GT. Testosterone kicked in and the battle heated up.  The needle in the Mustang had reached over 100 mph, when the red and blue candy bar lights were noticed approaching from behind.  The Z took the next exit.  The GT was from out-of-state and the state line was just 12 miles away.  Rolling the dice, the driver of the GT stupidly thought he could outrun his fate.  Several miles later, he pulled over.  The car that pulled behind him was a nondescript black police car.  

"Where're ya headed, Hoss?" The southern draw was clear.  Pause.  Driver response noted.  "See here's the difference between your car and mine.  Yours is all show, and no go, while mine is no show, and all go. I'm gonna need to see your registration and drivers license, and you're gonna have ta step out of the car." 

Not the Porsche chaser...all show and no go

..."all show and no go"...  

An imitation.  
A wanna be.  
Needing to make an impression. 

Hindsight is 20/20. We cannot out run our fate.  

In the late 80's, the California State Highway Patrol teamed up with Ford to produce a different car to meet their needs.  Formerly used were heavier Ford sedans.  The new design for the highway patrol was the Mustang SSP, Special Service Package. They were all go and no show, and highly effective.  

Their tag line was...This Mustang chases Porsches for a living.  

~Lisa Kroll, story teller, amateur historian, student of life.  
Oh, and former Mustang owner.  

Cycles: Grieving...the loss of one dream, but reaching for more....

At least one member of my family doesn't like that I write about my feelings publicly. 

Sorry, not sorry.  

This is a place for me to express the truth as I know it.   My writing is meant to help myself heal.  I hope my words are encouragement for any one else who might also be in my shoes.  I have searched the web for stories to help validate my thinking, and feel I need to add my stories to the mix.  If I can grow through this, I think anyone can. In the end, I know I really am going to be fine. In my heart, I believe I am going to be better than fine.  I all ready see positive differences in how I am feeling and how my life is playing out.  I didn't really know what being happy meant during my married years.  I was always trying to make someone else happy, relieve stress for them, put out fires, make everything perfect. I didn't put myself first.  I have not known what real love looked like between two people.  Positive relationships are where two people enhance, and help the other grow.  I've written about grieving before, but this summer is when I actually need to process my loss, let it go, and move forward.  Physically I lost a relationship, but that relationship was not a healthy one.  I was told again and again that I wasn't doing things, everything, well enough.  I always needed to improve.  I was not enhanced.  Looking back now, I clearly see the flaws in that relationship.  Hindsight is 20/20.  Today, physically I am great, but emotionally I am a work in progress that grows stronger with each passing day.  On the surface, I know I look wonderful.  All the work I need to do is on my inside, and only I can do this work.    

People who have NPD actually target their supplies.  Believe it or not, NPD's have very low self-esteem, which they project onto others, and they need to feel powerful.  They choose a partner/people in their lives, from whom they can benefit.  I was hand picked, and I played my role perfectly.  My own self-esteem has suffered due to my marriage relationship.  I have spent the better part of the past two years feeling I have failed in my marriage.  Actually, I didn't fail.  I am, and was, an amazing partner.  My ex's story is that we drifted apart.  We didn't, and it still annoys me that he said that, and tried to get me to believe it too.  He chose to break our commitment.  Cycles repeat, just like history.  NPD's cheat because they believe they won't get caught.  How do you define cheating?  "Vitamins" from California to enhance a hobby maybe, because one race official suggests supplementing workouts?  I am asked periodically if I have proof of my ex's infidelity.  I do.  I just didn't want to believe the signs.  Little lies...the friend he claimed to be with, who wasn't even in the state, his broken friendship...which he claims was because of me...how ridiculous. Pretty sure there was a female involved in that crossfire, but it wasn't me. The midnight run out of the house to help a "friend" I didn't know, coupled with the anger, at me, for waiting up until 2 a.m. and asking if I could help when he returned.  Others saw the signs too.  I know it's hard to tell someone when you suspect their spouse is not behaving in an appropriate manner.  I don't fault others for remaining silent; it wasn't their place to get involved.  Please friends know this truth: the past few years have shown me how honestly strong I am.  

This summer I am allowing myself to grieve. Teaching has kept me busy for the past 10 months, it's time to heal, and move forward.  Frustrations occur at times, and tears follow.  I need to grieve the loss of my dream to be in the "perfect" marriage. Three years ago I really thought I was living my dream.  Silly me, why did I think I had just one dream to dream?  How limiting!!!  I am told I am an inspiration.  This surviving a divorce was NOT the inspiration I hoped to be for others.  It was not one of my life dreams.  I thought I wanted to be the "perfect" wife.  Now I see my dream should have been, and is, to be the best me I can be, for me.  Independence is not such a bad thing.  However, even the most independent souls need to ask for help now and again.  I don't think I can ask for help just yet!  That might be on next summer's "to-do" list.  My brother told me I have trouble asking for help because I am a Scubelek (my maiden name...pronounced Scoob-a-leck).  He wisely noted that as we grew up, Scubelek's were people who helped others, we didn't need to ask for help.  I cannot help but share my happy spirit.  THAT is just who I am.  I am working on believing I did the best I could in my marriage.  I truly am happier now.  There was a negative aura that resided too close to my soul and it was dragging me down.  It has moved on...far away from me.  Thank you negative aura for giving me all the wisdom you needed to share, but I am done with you, and I now release you.  Goodbye negative aura.  

Two of my dreams have been to be a mom and a teacher.  Both goals I have successfully achieved!  We are complex souls, capable of having multiple dreams to strive towards.  We need to always believe in the potential to reach our dreams.  Positive thinking is powerful.  I do dream of being in a serious relationship with one person again someday, but I don't think I'm healed enough for that yet. I'm scared. What if I get hurt again?  My goal now is to be truly comfortable with speaking my mind and having my voice be heard.  I continue to cherish all my relationships.  Friendships are so important in helping us reach our full potentials in life.  Perfection has many meanings in my book, and I see my life is filled with perfections!

One last thing...I still believe in romance. #hopelessromantic  I thought maybe I've lost this piece of myself.  But, alas, once a dreamer, always a dreamer.  

~Lisa Kroll, still eating, praying, loving, grieving, letting go and moving forward

"Loving myself the way I want you to love me" - Katy Perry, Love Me on the Prism album

It's no surprise that tonight's blogging music has been Katy Perry's Prism album.  Some day I dream of thanking Katy in person for sharing herself through her music.  



SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave

DIY: How to Love...Click Here For Details

Wouldn't it be great if learning to love was as simple as following steps on a Do It Yourself tutorial?
Click Here for Details...ha!  Not so simple. No link today my friends.   

I know this sounds like a big subject.  
Love, is big.  

Personally, I find that I can give love, I just don't know how to accept love back.  At least this is how I feel. I can give love in certain situations; I do love my children, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, my students, my job, my pets, etc.   The one person I have trouble loving...myself.  

On-line advice suggests to love yourself first.  Coincidentally, my therapist told me this same thing when she was in my life!  That sounds a bit narcissistic to me.  In order to really love, I must forgive. Forgiving oneself is hard.   

This year I will forgive myself.  

I realize the past is the past.  

I did the best I could at that time.  

I do not regret loving.

I am ready to truly love me.  

I am a happy person.  I am happy with how my life is turning out.  

The next step for me is to forgive me.  

It would be nice to have that DIY right about now.  As with all things in life, this is a process, and I must go through all the stages/steps.  (NOTE: There are lots of on-line sources detailing how to forgive yourself...NOT linking to any.) 

It's easier to forgive someone else, than it is to forgive oneself.  

Self-forgiveness...have I mentioned this is hard? 

I am guilty of not thinking of myself enough.  

So starts my process...  

I love writing, but I have not made my time to write a priority.  

About six months ago I changed that, I now carve out time weekly to write.  

I love music...all kinds.  

I have made a point of seeing artists I want to see, when I want to see them.   

It was AMAZING to see Ed Sheeran live last July.  

Straight No Chaser is a December must do for me.  

Expressing myself through dance is something else I have always wanted to do.  

I spent years and years being on the sidelines as my daughter danced.  I did not want to be a ballerina.  I did want to feel the rhythm of the music fill my soul, 

to twist and to turn, 

to glide and to sway.  

I have musicality.  

I want to be connected to another, as we both feel the music pulse through our veins.  

I do not have aspirations to be a world famous dancer. 

However, I do aspire to share the language of music and dance.  

I love sharing time with my friends!  

Again, who knew I had so many friends?  I did.  I just didn't allow myself the time to share with them.  Breakfasts, dinners, trivia nights, dancing, game playing, book clubs, texting, chatting on the phone, planning weekend get-togethers...the list is broad and endless.  

My breakfast buddy!  We have a few favorite spots in town.

************

I typically write on Saturday nights.  

Yesterday I had errands, and didn't get to my spot until late.  My mind was filled with thoughts, but I didn't get all I wanted out of my brain. Pressure!  My blogging spot was closing for the night.    

I was also feeling stuck in my thoughts.  

...and then today...

I found that DIY/How to manual on love in a place I hadn't expected.  

While sitting in church, a familiar reading started...

1 Corinthians 13New International Version 

13 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

------

My priest's lesson went on to say that one needs to forgive in order to experience love.  'Forgiving oneself is similar to a having a surgeon remove a tumor.  You know you will be better off without the tumor in your body, but it is hard to let it go because it has been a piece of you, and quite possibly you nurtured it.  Still, in order to be completely healed you MUST let it go.'  

I understand the analogy.  I'm thinking of trying to come up with an analogy the suits me better. Still, I get the message.  Once I forgive myself, I can work on trusting again.  Allowing myself to be vulnerable means I will risk being hurt again.  Being loved and giving love is the greatest gift we as humans can offer one another.  

~Lisa Kroll 

2016  

forgiving myself 

discovering what I love  

learning to trust again

  

faith, hope, love

Blogging Music:  25 by Adele