It’s 3:41 am and my Sunday. My corporate America work week is 7-4 Friday, 7-7 Saturday & Sunday, and Monday 7-4; all closed office holidays are mandatory as well. I get three days that consist of working with clients and personal time. I fell asleep watching Expedition Unknown and woke up to a feeling of loneliness at 1:43 am. I try to make an attempt to keep to an organic non-drug induced sleep cycle. If you have been on the journey with me long enough it is known inconsistent sleep is one of my constants. I know where the root of the issue is planted, and I have attempted in various forms to address it. Ironically these patterns have led me to mistakenly believe that I am capable of shift differentials in job form, negative ghost rider. If I have to do an overnight my brain winds up in a toddler level tantrum and true to form, I will begrudgingly do the things but with absolute annihilation to self later. My brain hits a level of “non sanctioned activities”. So, waking up briefly to the sound of gentle Spring rain rapping my window was not the non-sanctioned activity that my brain stuck to and hyper fixated on, it was the thought of why again and now? Once I was aware enough, I realized this was manifesting as loneliness. Even though I share my space and life with Palo, my German Shepherd, and very few humans; most of the time I am alone. I have been on the receiving end of insinuations that I must be out and about with “them” or “others” which is why it appears that I am unavailable or not engaging in conversations or activities. The fact is I am more than likely home alone and mourning. I feel like I have been in a perpetual state of mourning on some level my entire existence.
There is a level of uncomfortableness about mourning as it indicates there is a disconnect and a disturbance that feels out of one’s hands. Mourning looks different on everyone. It can come across as an expression or an aesthetic. It is a tool when used properly and a weapon when wielded to condemn. Though by definition its focused on a person in physical form, we forget that we can mourn in spiritual and mind form as well. We do not get extended bereavement leave when our soul or identity dies. We still societally do not accept that these are just as significant as our flesh form. Simply stated to mourn is to acknowledge loss and over the last 4 years my losses have been significant, yet not a single funeral attended, a single eulogy uttered, or a bouquet sent. I never recognize this, and it had to be pointed out to me by someone I trust. “You have experienced a lot of loss in the last 9 months let alone over the last few years……..” I have been detached and late to my own funeral. I have buried relationships and people en masse over the last few months.
Mourning requires a moment of silence for the departed equally balanced by celebrating the life that was. We are not allowed the time nor space to do this properly any longer. I have not stayed anywhere long enough to place mementos on places where something of me died. I have buried a part of me in North Carolina, Washington, Minnesota, Iowa, Tennessee, Montana, and now Wisconsin. I have said numerous times that I never return where I have been. I always saw this on a physical plane and nothing less yet here I am back in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I seek guidance often from the Rabbi out of Rochester, MN. When I shared this, she stated, “The woman who left La Crosse was not the same woman who returned. You buried her in Iowa.”
It took days for that to really sink into a thinking space. Between mid-September and January 2024, I had left La Crosse, ended a multi-year friendship/ business arrangement, moved “home to Des Moines”, finalized my divorce, started a new job back in corporate America, found myself back in a toxic home life, was informed my first ex-wife succumbed to brain cancer, accepted an alternative outcome of relocating to Galena, IL, discovered that people are fake, ended an almost decades long “friendship”, found someone that divinity placed on my path, dissolved sexual relationships that were feeding a wounded version of myself, preparing to give up Palo and sleep in my car, to being reach out to from people that showed up without being asked to, removing myself from spiritual aspects of my abilities and by February I was moving into my “own place.” I don’t care to feel any of this shit right now. I am absolutely raw, unfiltered, exposed and in battle mode.
May 1st is my 3-month anniversary of being in my apartment and in two weeks I start my fast tracked EMT program which ends in August. I sit here internalizing and mulling over EVERY encounter I have had since my separation and subsequent divorce. I am fraught with the repeating patterns at someone else’s expense. I find myself slamming into ghosts of my former self yet unable to recognize myself in the mirror. I am haunted by memories and moments that no amount of concrete will sink into the abyss. It’s like the rainbow slick of oil in a parking lot, noticeable and on the surface, when shown in the right lighting. Has it ALL been worth it? Have I truly burned so many bridges that I am stranded and unable to move forward? Do I blow up the bridges I am currently occupying to prove I can swim? Do I self-isolate to be found or to truly recover like I claim? Why do I have to suffer personally to be so successful professionally? Am I meant to be partnered with again?
I have experienced more purging since February on a personal level than I have in my life’s entirety. I know this means I am leveling up which is why I put the immediate breaks on some things professionally. I have spent decades in the realm of mysticism, healing and spiritualism. My breaking point came to a head when a reading was done regarding my “person” and then a reading for them was done, and it conveyed something altogether different. It absolutely made me realize that if the integrity to a tool like tarot can be manipulated than it’s been compromised, and my level of integrity will not allow me to continue to use that tool. It absolutely changed the trajectory and possible outcome of that relationship. I felt abandoned by spirit at a time when I needed it most. Yet, after this falling out, I was getting clear signs of something more. A mourning dove landed on my inside front porch who had a mate waiting on the stoop for me to help the other one out. Ducks in pairs flying over my house or making themselves known when I am near the marina. This woman helped me take off the rose-colored glasses and start identifying people according to how they show up for me. I am absolutely struggling with old thought processes and patterns regarding “statuses” and definitions of relationships. What this finally boiled down to was boundaries, expectations and access.
I have experienced behaviors that were a key component of dead Lisa’s existence. They were put in place for a reason. Yet, they are now being triggered due to recognizing that I have only been avoiding and detaching; not truly dealing with the trauma. Now I feel guilty because I am not sure how much damage has been caused. How much is permanent? Is recovery possible or is all hopes of reconciliation dead? Should some things be resurrected??
I wanted to believe in my soul that returning to Des Moines after so many years and so much individual change that it would be different. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I wanted to believe the words of coming from those individuals that I valued so much I never questioned their intentions. My expectations have always been transparent, and my access was unlimited. I truly never had those moments where I thought to myself, see what I did for you?” Yet, I found myself over the years on the receiving end of that through words and actions. I am not perfect and never claimed to be. I am kindly reminded often that I am human. I absolutely curl my lip up to this and scowl. Pfffttt. Denying that part of me as been a disassociation on its own. If I capable of doing what I can for others, it’s reasonable to think I am extended the same level of services. I am not. That is where my detaching from my meat suit started. As much as my body has been involved in non-consenting activities its love language is still touch. Touch is how it heals itself and this is where I find myself currently struggling. I am finally recognizing it’s not the quantity of touch it’s the quality, but the caveat also plays into how often am I healing others etc.? How often is it in healer mode? When it malfunctions it’s at a grand level. It does nothing mediocre or half ass.
It has been documented multiple times where I am having experiences that are not mine personally but are being played out in my body. Most of the time it’s a loved one, an intimate partner or even a new client that I have never been introduced to. Take that on a bigger scale where my body is also trauma trained outside of my abilities. I state this because I may have to start mourning the idea of normal. Because regardless of beliefs that is my reality. Normal includes the idea of coupling and co-habitating but I am not willing to hurt anyone else in the process of figuring this all out. I am absolutely difficult to be around and hard to love.
I try to be as transparent as possible for the sake of character and commitment to helping others. I am however at a point where I need to stop allowing just anyone in on every level. I don’t know how to be this woman right now let alone all the other filters and perspectives hung on me. I fuck up, and again, I never do anything lite. It’s full throttle. I want to be in love, but I am not sure after so much damage, I am not sure I am capable of that. I have shown myself the love that has been shown to me and its superficial tied to material objects, disposable and comes with contingencies. I do not know grace or forgiveness nor how to extend those as defined.
My life from every viewable angle does not display what I had imagined. I need to sit where I no longer fit so I can once and for all break the mold that made me. The deeper realization is I might not like the woman at the core of all this to no fault of her own. I can no longer deny that I am the maker of the webs I weave. I have always held myself accountable, but have I always put in the work that makes actual changes and creates solutions? Perhaps I have always known that there was someone else to fall back on good, bad or indifferent. It’s like self-administering a shot or covid swab you want to believe that you are digging deep enough, sometimes self-awareness just isn’t enough.
This self-work does not make you weak and should never been done alone regardless of a person’s credentials and expertise. The weaker person was the one who never did the work themselves and chose instead to pass it forward.
National Hotline for Mental Health Crises and Suicide Prevention | NAMI
Talk To Someone Now – 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (988lifeline.org)