Thursday, July 16, 2020

Not Saturn Dear...

Words are funny things. They are permanent, but also fleeting. Sometimes we are aware of the significance. Other times, the most flippant statement can feel devastating. I often ruminate about the words spoken from my mouth, usually into some kind of self-indulgent crisis. I would call to repent for the offense. The person typically laughed and told me it wasn’t a big deal. They knew I was kidding or my comment didn’t bother them at all.

 A year ago however, my entire universe was spinning. I had no idea how to stop it. In forcing myself to accept a new reality, I spent the week purging the house from the life that was. It was left open for possibilities for a life that could be.

 What could that life be? 

 My birthday. a few days away, I decided to throw myself a party. I would fill my house with laughter and friends. To fill every inch of it with a new life and love for the new future I was facing. I needed to remind myself for the next year, that I was not alone. I asked them all if they could contribute a piece of art to this new home.

 A friend from Florida was in town and not able to come to the party. I was invited to a gathering with a bunch of mutual friends. The idea overwhelmed me. However, I couldn’t see any way to turn it down. He lived in Florida. A few years before, I traveled with a friend for a cruise and she and I had dinner with him and his husband. 

 This would be my first night in public after the…. YOU KNOW.

 I called a friend to tag along and we went. 

 How can I explain what life is like inside a PTSD/Trauma reactive brain? It is something like standing in a television store: all of the screens are on a different channel and each one has its volume up to eleven while you are trying to have a conversation with the person standing next to you. Problem is, you are the only one who hears the sound of the televisions. 

 There I stood in the lovely backyard of friends, with my adorable Florida gazing at the stars. We snarked and giggled a bit about my life at the moment. Then he pointed me to the moon in the Southwest. Holding up his phone with an astronomy app open he said, 

 “Look! Jup(static)iter is the closest to the Earth it has been in (static) years.”

 I looked up at the beautiful moon and the small glowing pin of light standing next to it. I felt in awe. Suddenly the grass became real under my feet. I could hear the fountain trickling in the backyard. The balmy summer air had the familiar Central Valley oder. My brain was quiet for a minute. Everything stopped spinning. Florida was real. I was real. I didn’t hurt in every place of my being. In my sudden excitement i burst with, 

 “OH! That’s the one with the rings!”

 Florida looked at me shocked. He then gently smiled. With a full throaty laugh he said, “Not Saturn, Dear.” I began to laugh with tears. 

 “Of course! I know that!” He gently took me and  his phone. Swung us around to the East where Saturn hung in the sky. “See, there’s Saturn.” We turned to the southwest again, “And look it’s Jupiter.”

 We couldn’t stop laughing at my silly word salad. What Florida didn’t know, he found my North Star. In simply and gently correcting my perspective, I began to feel myself for the first time in a week. 

Beccalynn 2020

 I could feel myself breathing.

I felt a little hungry. 

I felt Loved. 

The universe stopped spinning.

I knew where Saturn and Jupiter were.

 That night, I came home to face another night of dreaded sleep. I sat on my mattress against the window. I looked up and there was the Moon and Jupiter shining. I heard Florida’s words, “Not Saturn, Dear.” I began to cry. I knew for the first time in a week those words gave me a reason to go to sleep. I also now had a reason to wake up.

 For tomorrow night, when I went to bed… the Moon and Jupiter would be there to greet me.

 I was going to be ok.


Wednesday, July 15, 2020

To Because Of...

I am not sure when February began. It is the month when migraines like that come to visit. I am unable to talk. Yes, I did continue to isolate. I did lose more relationships. It is a consequence of the darkness; Fibromyalgia, Migraines, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, etc. All of it carries a heavy price for the people around me.


I wish I could control it.

I wish the illnesses would never hurt anyone.

I wish the illnesses would just go away. 


I understand and accept the illness won’t magically evaporate. I accept my baggage is too much. Boundaries are about what an individual can tolerate. It is not my right to impose my boundaries on other people. There are some things I can tolerate. On the things I cannot tolerate, I politely excuse myself.  I have to allow other people the same rights with their boundaries. 


Somehow in the middle of the Magical Migraine tour, I found an online university to finish my undergrad. I found an employment platform that has a potential for generating income. 


I had no plan, I only had The Next Indicated Step. I took each next indicated step I saw. If a relationship needed to go on hiatus, I let it go. If school needed a form filled out, I completed the task. If terms needed to be negotiated in good faith, I negotiated.


Then Covid 19. Life happened to all of us in the middle of Our plans. 


Suddenly I wasn’t alone in a freefall, survival mode. The whole humanity was. It was socially acceptable to not leave the house. KJ not going to school yet was now a smart decision. I still practiced what I knew, walking in the next indicated step. When terms were reneged, I let them go. When the employment platform became complicated, I worked at learning how to adapt. I worked through a first term of school. 


Slowly as I moved through March, April and May I began it realize I no longer 


Lived In Spite Of…


I quietly was healing and shifting into 


Living Because Of…


The Dark Thoughts still came when hope seemed the dimmest. I have problems at the moment that look insurmountable and bleak, however those Dark Thoughts are not quite as overwhelming as they were a year ago. They don’t blind me. 


Working through this month I am in my second session of university. I still am grinding through the platform trying to get something to work for me. My resumé is fairly shiny. I almost can hear something that sounds like my own voice. I really like the way it sounds and the ideas it has. I love dearly the people who are in my life. 


The people who have followed a different path than mine? I send love to them. I hope they find the solutions they need. Some relationships our paths will cross again in time, because that’s just how life flows. Other relationships will sail on into their own sunset. 


For today? I still have no plan. I have no idea how any of this will turn out. I continually invent a new future that I never imagined every day. I still feel terrified by it all.

However, I no longer feel any In Spite Of… 


I live Because Of the Love I experienced this year.

I live Because Of the miracles I’ve seen this year. 

I live Because Of what I let go of this year.

I live Because Of how I healed this year.


Monday, July 13, 2020

To Fall... To Be...

The months between October and January held an organic plan for themselves.The rhythm of the holidays carried me one event at a time. I didn’t need to generate one. All I had to do was follow the prescribed social agenda. It was distracting enough to make it look like I could function.  

 In constant contact with the kids, Ase, Zany, and KJ were all sorting through the same shattered pieces as I was. The four of us held an open space as we navigated the shards gently. We relabeled some holidays and let other ones rest for a while. It was lovely to collectively agree to simply rest and heal.

As for KJ being home from college, she and I held an arrangement that we understood what was going on. Other people didn’t need to agree or know. This was her life and her decision. I respected her ability to stand up to me and tell me what she needed. I wish I had her strength at 19. To stop and figure herself out on her terms. 

My Dear Friend held space for me in the months of August to October when I was scrambling for some sanity to hold onto. They simply needed a space to heal. When they were asked for a medical plan, I was invited to be a part of their process. All they needed was a place to stay. It was incredibly healing to be a Human Being in my Dear Friend’s life instead of a Human Doing. They sorted themselves out, found the help they needed and worked through the issue. 

The holidays passed and January came. Only one personal holiday left, the four of us renamed it. The month was a quiet hurdle. January typically is a Fibro Flare month anyway. I quit talking to everyone. I simply didn’t have any words. I am grateful for the people who consistently called and showed up. Some helped to paint kitchen cabinets. Others sat and sipped tea while we built jigsaw puzzles. The regular dinner theme night kept my food on track.  Leaving the house was still overstimulating. The random text or call shed a beam of light here or there. It was enough to keep me moving forward.  

I had to let go. 

I had to stop trying.

I had to no longer Live In Spite Of…

I wasn’t strong. I was very, very weak. I needed to rest in a quiet place and heal. I needed to feel safe. I had to learn how to hear my own voice. After 51 years of taking care of everyone else, I had to discover how to take care of myself. It was time to admit that I had nothing to give anyone else. 

 I was a Human Being

I was not a Human Doing.

I didn’t know what that looked like. The only way to discover it was simply

To Be…


Sunday, July 12, 2020

I Fell Down


A year ago, I had a plan. 

KJ (aka Girly) was to leave for college. I would spend the first half of the year researching tutoring companies and after school programs. I had a few options for library positions in local schools. My plan was to look into online opportunities and finish my undergrad, hopefully get my certificate as an interpreter for the deaf.  I was going to explore what my art capabilities were, develop an art history/art curriculum and find a way to market, then sell it. 

That was the plan I worked towards for two years while KJ finished high school. I built up my resume building through volunteer work in a local school classroom and theatre projects. I made appointments with the local colleges to see what was necessary to become an interpreter. It was a slow process, between Fibro flare-ups and week long Migraines. I was proud of the slow, but steady progress I was making. 

You see, every moment of my life since December 1, 1987 has been on purpose. I lived “In Spite of…” what happened in my life. I was told I was strong. I needed to get my shiznit together. Keep going. They told me I was a survivor. They said I was inspiring. I heard I was to be admired. I was challenged that I couldn’t give up. They chided me with, I shouldn’t be a martyr. 
“Don’t play the victim.”
“Don’t be codependent.”
“Don’t ask for help.”
“You’re fine.”
“Quit complaining.”
“Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Be brave. You’re strong!” (oh, right… I said that one).  
AND wash, rinse, repeat. 


Last year I felt, yet again, forced into another person’s narrative. 


I asked for help like I was supposed to. I stayed strong like I was supposed to. I held my shiznit together as best I could. I kept checking off each goal box at a time.

Get KJ to school
Get home.
Start over.

All the helpful advice focused on one basic sentiment: “Now you get to do what you always wanted.”

Problem was, I had what I always wanted. I now needed to invent something I never imagined for myself: Alone.

I kept up appearances adequately. Checked all the “you should” boxes. Until...

In September, KJ told me she needed to come home from college.

In late October, a dear friend of mine had a medical emergency that checked all my Senior Year death boxes.
The holidays loomed.

Everything began to crumble. 

I had no plan for when life turned to sand and disintegrated in my hands. I did have a choice. I could either drive myself insane making it stick together…

OR…

Let it run through my fingers.

It was terrifying beyond all imagination. What would everyone think of me? Who would stay by me? What would happen if I was alone in all of it? One fact I knew about myself.  No longer could I be strong. I had no shiznit to hold together anymore. I had no idea if I could survive this, actually I knew I wouldn’t. I knew that I had to let go of all those shattered pieces of myself I held together since December 1, 1987. 

It was time to let it all fall apart. 

I had no plan for the first time in my life. I understood that not everyone who was in my life at the time would be able to walk with me down the dark road before me. It was alright. It was a darkness I avoided for far too long. I could not pretend anymore.

It was time I faced it and healed correctly.