Emotions...

The movie Inside Out reminds us that we need all our emotions to live life to its fullest.  

"Without Sadness, we cannot feel Joy."  

The past few years have allowed me to get back in touch with all of my emotions, and yet I have stubbornly still pushed one away.   

My creative side - expressed as Bing Bong?  Nope, he is always nearby.  I am a creative soul. I create in my flower garden, in my kitchen and in my classroom  Really, in everything I do my creative juices can't help but ooze out.   

Fear - the nagging part of me that gets scared sometimes about what unknown is coming next?  Nope.  I do have fears, but I have learned that when I am fearful, that is a part of my subconscious telling me something is not right. I do not mind fear.  I am learning to trust my instincts.  I am a smart person who can rationalize, and work through her fears.  

Disgust - the part of my being that realized that this DID happen to her even when she thought it couldn't? Nope. I see I am not special when it comes to being given a pass in the Universe. I'm good with disgust. The experience of being disgusted, means I can now look at things from a different perspective, and be thankful for what is no longer in my life.  

Sadness - who shows herself as loneliness, tears, and or heavy heart?  I know this emotion intimately.  Reminding myself of the lesson in Inside Out, I feel I will have deeper Joy, due to all I have experienced. My life will be richer because of my sorrows.  Still, I visit sadness more than I like, and she can wear me out!  I really am ready for her to take a long, extended vacation.    

Joy - Personally, I think I rock Joy. She's the emotion I do best, and most often.  I would say she has always been my main emotion.  I know I've said it before, but when my dad died I realized that life was short, and 21 years later when my mom died, I realized it was one thing to say life is short and another to start living like it is.  I enjoy finding the positive in all that surrounds me.  

Anger - He is the emotion I have struggled to embrace.  I just don't do anger.  I don't feel like I was ever really allowed to do anger either.  If I got upset, it was pointed that I was wrong to feel the way I did.  Maybe when my dad died, it colored my thought process.  So, I have been trying to work through admitting my anger and moving forward in my life.  I am quick to acknowledge when I am disappointed, but I won't say when I am angry. 

If I am honest, I AM angry.  I was supposed to have a partner with whom I could grow old, and spend the golden years...wasn't that what we were working towards?  I am pissed that I do not have someone I can travel with to the wonders I hoped we'd see.  I no longer have a companion with whom to attend birthday celebrations, weddings, graduations, galas, etc.  I no longer have someone who can help manage the house and it's list of chores.  I no longer have someone I can tell my secrets: the good, the bad and the ugly.  I lost the person who loved my quirkiness. I no longer have someone to share my evenings with, to go out and see that new movie with, no one to take me out to dinner, and no one to share my bed and cuddle with on cold, stormy nights.  In short, I am angry that I lost my best friend.  Can I find someone new?  Possibly.  Probably.  But I feel cheated.  He knew my faults and I knew his.  And I thought we loved one another despite it all.  Thick and thin.  I thought we were in it for the long haul. 'Til death do us part.  Through my anger though, I realize he is no longer the best friend I want.  

However, lately I've been pissed that my partner, who was supposed to be with me when our children gave us grandchildren to love, is no longer there.  That might be my biggest hurt I am working through right now.  I went to breakfast with a friend whose oldest child recently had her first baby; the first grandchild.  I'm not sure I kept my envy at bay.  I am so happy for my friend, that she is now able to provide child care for her grand baby.  But I hurt.  And it's a deep hurt. No matter what, I will not, ever, be able to offer that to my children.  Never.  I suppose it's good thing that my children are not at a point where they are ready to have children of their own.  When they do, I'll host sleep overs, and 'summer' camp with grandma. But I cannot dream to help my children as my friend is able to help her child.  As I said, it's a deep hurt.   

So, I am angry.  My anger gets masked by sadness, and then my fears rise up, and then I have a lack of confidence.  It is a vicious cycle.  I've read that a grieving person needs to go through all five stages of grief, in their own order, in their own time frame, and sometimes over, and over, and over again until they can finally let go.  In my divorce support group, I was told you need to give yourself one year of grieving for every five you were married.  

When I think like that, my fears rise.  I'm not getting any younger you know.  I am learning that one cannot rush what the universe has in store for her.  So right now, I need to just be kind and understanding to myself.  I need to give myself time.  I need to focus on what I have.  

I am putting my angers here so I can let them go.  I am disappointed, but I really want to believe that the Universe has something even better in store for me.  

I am healing.  I no longer feel as fearful, as I did two years ago.  I am not as disgusted, as I once was.  My sad times do not last as long as they did, and my joy does seem to be growing.  So anger, it's time for you to be felt, it's time for you to be acknowledged, and it's time for you to be turned loose.  

~Lisa Kroll, roller coaster rider, Universe believer, and creative soul who still wears a smile, despite what life throws her way...while continuing to eat, pray and love.  

Can you identify your emotions?  

tonight's blogging music:  Of Monsters and Men, their My Head is an Animal (2012) and Beneath the Skin - Deluxe Release (2015) CD's

When Truman Stepped Through the Door...Everyone Paid the Price

In the movie The Truman Show, there is a point where Truman realizes that all around him has been staged.  He realizes that he has not been allowed to truly be himself. Society has been controlling his life.  With all the flair of the movies, Truman Burbank punches through the side of his fake world and finds a set of stairs with an exit door to the outside world.  He must decide, does he move forward or stay put?  No matter what he decides, from this point forward, life for all who crossed his life path will change... forever. 

*****

Relationships end, and unfortunately that is part of life.  With a divorce, the collateral damage is more than one would expect. 

*****

I was not an idiot in raising my children.  I realized that many more people get divorced now, as compared to when I was a youngster.  I raised my children in an induced Utopian world: to only have friends who were in solid families.  The old me defined "solid families" to mean their friends had two parents, who were together for the long haul.  My thought process was, if I could give my children a good example with my marriage, and fill their lives with other positive role models, they could potentially escape the realities of the really world.  Consequently, my children knew other kids whose parents were divorced, but they didn't grow up with those kids as close companions.  Off the top of my head, I can think of only two of my son's friends whose parents were divorced by the time my kiddos were in high school.  Mostly, my kids had friends who had intact families with parents who were always active in their lives.  Unconsciously I sought out friendships with others who were married only.  I did try to make a point of surrounding my own children with what I considered to be positive role models, as any caring parent might do.  Right or wrong, I grew up in an intact family, and I wanted the same for my children and the future generations of my family who might follow.  

Enter the Big D. 

FACT: Divorce hurts all who were brought together by the bond of marriage.

Collateral Damage in my divorce:  Two young adult children.  My definition of a young adult (YA) is someone who is over the age of 18. There was also my ex's mom (my MIL), various siblings, and extended family. I'm only focusing on my young adults, as they are connected by blood and I have personal experience with them.  

Studies have shown, when children are YAs, and their parents divorce, the YAs are more devastated than had the parents divorced when the children were younger.  I firmly believe this to be true.  As I have struggled with my own grief, my children have had their own problems to solve. I have been unable to focus on them.  I do think about my children and what they might be experiencing, but I cannot help them work through what they need to work through.  

I speculate, these might be a sampling of questions my YAs have asked themselves since May of 2013: 

     Are their memories real?

     Was their youth all a farce? 

     Were they the reason that an unhappy person stayed? 

     As adults, can they trust someone now to stay with them, should they find a soulmate?  

     What do they need to do to have a healthy relationship?  

     What does a healthy relationship look like?

     How do holidays work? 

     Where is home?   

     How can they stay out of the emotional battlefield? 

I know I haven't made it easy on my YAs.  Try as I might to keep my opinions bottled up inside of me, I exploded now and again. Less now then in the past, but I did unload from time to time.  To my children, I truly am sorry.  Please remember, I am human. I am not perfect.  But I DO love you with my whole heart.  

I hope my children never have to know hurt as I have.  My children deserve to have their own relationships with their father, just as they are forming their own relationships with me.  I have never wanted, or expected them to pick sides.  That's not right, nor is it fair.  As I raised my children, I never imagined they'd even think there would be a side to pick. 

*****   

It's been 31 years since my father died...June 20, 1985.  THAT was a devastating time in my life.  I remember emotionally breaking with his death, and wondering if I would ever heal.   I realized he was my father, and not my soul mate.  My parents were married for 23 years when he died.  I watched my mom, one incredibly strong woman, crumble to her knees but eventually rise again.   After dad died, my brother and I were there for one another, and for our mom.  I often discount my sister, but I don't mean to do that.  She was five when our dad died.  I know that she, along with therapy, were the reasons  mom was able to go on living.  Individually, and together, the four of us did heal.  It took a long time, and a lot of outside support, but we did work through that loss.  What helped me the most was that we were able to talk about missing dad, about the life we knew, and about what we had experienced together.  

With a death, the good memories are shared over, and over, and over.  That is not how it is with a divorce.  My children and I do not talk about what happened.  We cannot.  Honestly, the good memories that I have from my 28 year marriage, I question.  How can I not?...I didn't see our end coming initially.

Life has a way of happening the way it needs to though.  A close friend recently told me, as she listened to me spill my thoughts, that surely I knew what I did during my married years was really, really good.  She reminded me of my visible accomplishments...my children, and the adults they have become.  She commented on how much I was able to give them over the years.  She went on to say, something that I really all ready know, my ex wasn't growing with me, and he can't give me what I now need.  

Truman Burbank stepped through the door, putting his feet into an unknown world and said, "In case I don't see you...good afternoon, good evening and good night."  I imagine he had a lot of self discovery to do.   

Unlike Truman, I do not feel society was controlling my life before I stepped through my exit door and entered this new stage. I know I am in a time of self discovery.  I am continuing to learn who I am, what I enjoy, what I need, and what I want in life.    

~Lisa Kroll, student of life, who is starting to possibly enjoy the ride.  

*********

Research/Interesting Reads:  

Why It's So Hard for Adults When Their Parents Divorce 

Grieving the Gray DivorceThe Effects of Divorce on Children  

    

Effects on Grown-up Offspring  

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forgiveness

Part of the healing process is forgiveness. 

I am working on forgiving so I can love and respect myself, and then move forward. 

New relationships are not being given a fair chance of working while I am in this stage. I have written so much over the past month, but so little have I posted. 
As I edit my writings I realize the emotions are strong and I am evolving, even a day after I pen my words. I hope that means I am growing. I would like to post recent writings because I do think they have value, but if I do, when I do, my readers need to know I am not the same person. 

~lisa

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.  



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Feeling a little Stevie Wonder-ish....

I'm Trying to think back on what type of music my dad preferred...I'm drawing a blank.  

My brother, who rode to work with my dad during the last summer dad was alive, confirmed there was country music in dad's car, but it was mostly talk radio he listened to - Warren Frieberg and Paul Harvey.  I recall several songs that stuck out. In the Country genre...You Picked a Fine Time to Leave Me Lucille, by Kenny Rogers.  Most of dad's favorites were NOT country hits...Freddie Fender's, Feliz Navidad.  Dad LOVED that song. Oh, Lord It's Hard to be Humble (When You are Perfect in Every Way), by Mac Davis.  For some odd reason he also really liked Pink Floyd's, Another Brick in the Wall.  Eclectic tastes?  Self discovery noted!  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!  

What a crazy mix of music!  When we were really young, on Sunday after church, we'd go visit one of the grandparent households.  The music of choice on Sunday...Polkas.  I swear, Polkas!  There were Chicago radio stations that we could just barely receive on the car tuner.  Polish victory when The Beer Barrel Polka came on, or I Don't Want Her You Can Have Her (she's too fat for me), and In Heaven There is No Beer (that's why we drink it here). 

The song that makes me recall my dad the most?  Stevie Wonder's, I Just Called to Say I Love You.  When I hear that song, I am sure it's my dad's way of reaching down from the heavens and telling me his spirit is still in my heart.  

I wonder what song/s might trigger that reaction in my own children? 

*****

When I was in my early 20's, my dad died and my brother and I were old enough to be off to college.  Our baby sister was still at home, she was just five years old.  My brother and I lived together for almost two years during college.  We rented a house and had a third roomie; a friend from high school.  It was Three's Company in reverse.  During that time, mom wouldn't call as regularly as I thought she should.  She didn't check in and I was miffed.  Did she NOT care???  My brother and I talked about it.  We compared notes, "Have you heard from mom?" "When did you talk to mom last?" Sometimes we'd wait her out..."I'm NOT calling her!"  Our poor mom, when she did call, we'd give her the third degree topped with a little snotty attitude.  

Today, I finally get it.  I love my kiddos, but I have faith that I have raised them to be independent, capable souls.  Now, is the time for me to worry about me, and not worry about them.  I will always worry, but I'm not worried!  My oldest nephew is heading off to college in a few short months.  I'm sure my brother will go through the same separation that I did, the same separation our mother experienced.  It is how life is supposed to happen.  

When Katy Perry, or Ed Sheeran, or Vampire Weekend or fill in the blank, come on in a grocery store, elevator or the radio...I hope my kids will smile and say, "Our mom...her music choices...and laugh."  

I miss my parents.  I'm glad I have my siblings with whom I can share awesome memories.  

Tonight's blogging music:  Vampire Weekend, Ed, Katy, and my Disney playlist which includes: Baroque Hoedown (Electric Parade Theme Music from Disney World), Tapestry of Nations (Epcot's World Showcase fireworks music), The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Lion King), Let It Go, Reindeer(s) are Better than People (Frozen), Something That I Want (Tangled), Zero to Hero, I Can Go the Distance (Hercules), Two Worlds, You'll Be in My Heart (Tarzan)....and other wonderful, bouncy songs!!!  

~Lisa Kroll, age 52, 10 weeks and one day...
It's official...I've outlived my dad!  
Woo Hoo for small victories!  Time to really live now.

Exemplars

(noun)  

a person or 
thing serving as a 
typical example 
or excellent model


Tonight I am reflecting back on the love I witnessed growing up with my perspective, colored by age and life experience.  

My parents.  My exemplars.  

Each was a beautiful soul.  They cared so deeply about one another, and about family.  Family gatherings...weddings, funerals, religious celebrations, birthdays, holidays...were BIG events.  It seemed we were always celebrating something, and the only friends I had for a long time, were ones who were related to me. I'm sure my cousins might have had this same feeling! My roots are Italian and Polish, with some of my greats having come directly over from the mother countries.  Although Italian and Polish were spoken by a few of the elders, sadly I did not pick up any of either language.  Great aunts and uncles, regular aunts and uncles, first, second, and third cousins and their spouses attended the weddings and funerals.  It seemed someone was always getting married or dying.  

I literally grew up thinking I was related to everyone who lived in my community until I went to fifth grade.  The summer before I entered the fifth grade, my parents moved to a new community.  The funny thing was, many of our friends and family from my first community moved as well, joining my new community.  

Beyond family, my parents knew everyone and everyone knew them.  

It was common knowledge that if a neighbor needed ANYTHING, they could count on my parents. Thinking about this now, I'm sure the feeling was reciprocated.  My dad was an Electrical Engineer by trade and my mom was an office manager for a doctor's office, but within our community dad was a volunteer fireman and mom was a certified Emergency Medical Technician volunteer.  They were always "on call", and helped whenever needed.  I vividly remember emergencies in the middle of the night where both my parents responded, along with all the other volunteer emergency crew. On top of volunteering, both my parents were involved with my brother and I as were were growing up.  Mom did typical mom stuff: organized summer camps, was a volunteer in my school, served on the PTA, AND had a Ceramic business out of our basement.  As my brother and I aged, both our parents involvement changed as well.  Our parents were chaperones on band trips, and dad even had a chauffeur's license so he could drive the school bus for those trips. I had the coolest parents.    

Visible to others was a couple who truly were a super couple.  

As a child, I witnessed the backside of an amazing love.  

I never noticed if my brother and I lacked material goods.  However, I do recall that once a month, dad would balance the checkbook.  This was code for my brother and I to disappear into our rooms.  We were neither seen, nor heard during the balancing of the checkbook.  Dad was generally an even tempered person.  Mom was a spender.  I guess mom just knew things would be okay.  Dad didn't always agree and when this happened, his even temper became off kilter.  They would argue, but in the end they would assure my brother and I that they loved each other.  And they did.  My parents were not perfect, and they knew that about themselves and one another.  They were willing to overlook imperfections and love with their whole heart anyway.  They laughed together, played together, helped the community together, and loved their family together.  

An Aunt recently sent me the above photograph.  As I looked at it, my eyes teared up.  I miss them both so much.  I hope, and I think their spirit lives within my heart.  I know I longed to be a part of a super couple, but I also know that because of my parents, there isn't anything I can't do all by myself.  Part of my journey now is to learn to forgive myself for not living up to that exemplar I knew.  They were just one example.  

In today's society extended families have drifted apart and with these drifts core values have become diluted.  I feel we live in a society that no longer promotes super couples.  I think we encourage too many selfish behaviors and not enough behaviors of taking care of one another.  Our older generations still get it, but souls my age seem more selfish, and our youth...I am worried for them. Maybe I have become a skeptic.  Maybe, as I continue to age, I'll see the cycle repeat and super couples will again be a thing.  Time will tell.  

Regardless, with my friends I will continue to laugh, play, help my community, and love my family.  In my own way I will be a reflection of the exemplar above, and hopefully encourage others along the way.  Thank you friends, for loving me on this journey.  

~Lisa Kroll
         ponderer of emotions  

Tonight's blogging music...  

from Adele's 25, Remedy, Sweetest Devotion; 
from Ed Sheehan's X, One, Tenerife Sea, Thinking Out Loud, Shirtsleeves; 
From Ed Sheehan's 5, Be Like You, Let It Out, Where We Land; 
from Ed Sheehan's +, Kiss Me, Give Me Love; 
from Dean Martin, You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Loves You, Sway.  

Decisions....

Each night, I set out my clothes for the next day.  I gather all my things so I am completely ready, down to shoes and jewelry.  I have found that I need the routine to make my mornings run smoothly.  It is one decision that I do not need to make as my day starts.  I get up, get ready, and walk out the door feeling set.  No pressures.  

One Wednesday night, as I set out my outfit I was deciding what to wear around a pair of socks.  Yes, socks. Olaf the snowman from Frozen socks. We were celebrating Dr. Seuss at school this particular week, and each day had a theme.  Thursday would be crazy sock day. I must admit, I spent too much time that night struggling with what I would be wearing the next day.  

Thursday arrived.  I got up and started my routine: shower, dress, hair, make-up, coffee, breakfast, then out the door.  

As the day wore on, I noticed I was in a funk.  Something was off, and I struggled to figure it out.  I was emotionally off.  I felt I needed to get home, and I wasn’t sure why.  When I finally did arrive home, I went straight to my room and changed my clothes.  I literally peeled off my bad mood. I had been wearing clothes from the person whom I used to be.  

Who knew?  The clothes make the person.  True.  They do.  

In a matter of minutes, I realized I have spent a certain amount of my life dressing to be someone else; trying to be the person I felt I was supposed to be instead of being the person I am.  No more.  I am free to embrace myself!  Free to love me and all that I am.  I am no longer someone who shops a certain label.  I still like a classy look, but I am more a flowers-frills-and-flowing-dresses type.  It matches my personality.  I am a can-do, handy, capable, smart person.  I am not someone who needs to march to the beat of someone else's drum.  I am not high and mighty. I would rather help someone else, than have someone help or wait on me.  

In life, stories must end so new stories may begin.  I am happily living the story I am meant to live right now.  I still look at the pages of my old story from time to time, but I know those final chapters have played out.  Stories teach us lessons. Thank you Universe for helping me learn my lessons, realize I have more stories to be a part of and happily be me.

~Lisa Kroll, still Eating to nourish my body, Praying private prayers and Loving myself

Blogging Music tonight:  Jason Mraz, We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things, 2008.  

What a great album, but particularly love Make it Mine, I'm Yours, Lucky, Butterfly, Live High.