Tag: life

Never Underestimate Loneliness

My Great Grandma Ward lived to be 100 years old. As a child I saw her as this young woman in an old body. I would watch her raking the leaves, cleaning the kitchen, knitting, etc, and be in awe of how much she could still do. As her and my mother spoke, I would stare at her. Her deep wrinkles, her goiter, her perfectly pressed clothes. She seemed unchanging from one visit to the next. The smell of her old country house, the cookie jar that was always full, the sound when I would pluck a key on the piano (which was in desperate need of tuning), all made her house feel as if it was froze in time since the last time I was there. Looking in her ice blue eyes, I would wonder if that’s what I was going to look like in 80 years. She looked tired. I would look and her hands, then my own, and wonder how hands could become so rough and wrinkled.

As an adult, I can now see this old woman as more than that simple old lady on a farm. I see her as a mother, a wife, a widow. With nothing but an 8th grade education, she married and bore 7 children. Then, my Great Grandpa passed away very early, middle aged, leaving her to raise the children on her own. She never remarried, which was very rare for a woman in that time. My mother told me as an adult, it was to protect her children. She did not want her sons to be used as farm hands, or her daughters to be abused or used. Her choice to raise her children alone, was one of the most selfless acts I can think of.

These facts about her have always been known, but never understood until the past few years of my life. Single motherhood has been the most challenging thing I’ve endured in my life. I feel that GG was with me through the last few years. Those days I would feel my body was going to quit, I imagined her up late sewing or mending. Those days I wanted to scream because I didn’t want to have grilled cheese for dinner again, I think about how she would buy 1 bunch of bananas a week as a treat. (And would hide a couple for herself so she could eat them ripe). On the days I would feel lonely and isolated from the world, I would imagine her living on the farm, with the love of her life gone, and nothing but children and chores to consume her days.

Now, because my brain thinks of 15 things at once, but I can only deliver one thought at a time, I want to address the loneliness aspect of single parenthood. I feel this topic is grossly under appreciated. I was ill prepared for how much this would influence my life, my motherhood, and my survival.

About a year after the separation, my ex husband and I were starting to talk on the phone regularly again. A few nights a week, we would stay up and tell eachother about our days. Who we saw, what we did, where we went, and any other bullshit we could think of. This was not the rekindling of our relationship. I hated him. He abandoned us. No matter the cause of the divorce, our children were lacking the necessities in life. Their mother was frazzled, exhausted, and broken to nothing. His feelings towards me, I’m sure, were equally non romantic. He had no problem telling me about his dates, and how much he was loving his single life in Vegas.

So, why the hell was I spending so much time on the phone with him? Why would I pretend we were old pals and shoot the breeze? Loneliness. I was alone and it was wearing on me. There was no one in my life to unwind to. No one that wanted to hear about dumping an entire bag of flour on the floor. Or tripping and hitting my knee. All of those nothings that happen during the day were just being flushed out of my brain every night. I never realized how much I would miss that. My days WERE boring and monotonous. Coming home and realizing there was no one who cared to hear about it, slowly made me feel my lack of worth. “I picked up all the toys and even vacuumed!” Oh wait…no one wants to hear about that. I feel accomplished….but I guess normal people get that stuff done every day. How sad is it that that is all I have for my day.

I ended it. I told him, it is unhealthy for us to use each other like that. He doesn’t get to be that for me anymore. And I can’t be that for him. I imagined my Grandmother, and how horribly alone and sad she must have felt. How strong she was, to make the choice to protect her children. That part of my Grandmother had been overlooked on my part. It was a detail in her story that lacked depth of understanding in it’s fullness.

While I know it’s tempting to find someone to help financially (it’s not shallow. Raising children on one minimum wage income is impossible), for physical interactions (yes I mean sex), or even out of sheer exhaustion (1 parent = no breaks), I believe the loneliness outweighs a lot of it. I have seen many people remarry very quickly after a divorce or death of a spouse. Never understood how they could “get over it” that quickly. Then I realized that they DIDN’T get over it. That was their problem. Coping in this new, tedious, lonely, life was too much. They needed (yes. Actually needed, not just wanted) companionship to survive.

This revelation stuck with me. Did I date? Absolutely. I knew I wanted to remarry eventually. I just knew I needed to be constantly aware of this vulnerability. I could not settle or talk myself into a relationship just so I didn’t feel alone. As a rash, impulsive person, I knew I needed to grieve the loss of my marriage in EVERY aspect before I would be able to find someone to spend my life with.

Thank you Grandma Ward. You saved me from starting a cycle of desperation and loneliness. You saved my children from becoming attached to men that would ultimately leave them. You saved my fiancé from being with a woman who was not whole as a person, and from children who would distrust him. We will not be able to ever fully grasp the strength you had, or be able to properly thank you for passing that on for generations. I love you, and aspire to obtain the wisdom your life brought you, through all my life challenges.

The Death of a Beth

I have spent the last few years doing a lot of “soul searching” and trying to figure out who Beth is. It’s exhausting. We all do it. Whenever there is any huge event or life change, our first instinct is to figure out how and why we got there. Are we being true to ourselves? When did we change? How would you define yourself simply? I believe this is how we accept the metamorphosis within during a life changing event. And of course, it’s usually a painful, hard process that sticks out in our mind for the rest of our lives.

We refer to occurrences in pre or post event form. As if to better explain what we’re talking about. My life trauma was my divorce. Not the actual divorce, but the result from it. I often say things like, “Well, before the divorce I liked to…” or “Before the divorce I would…” As if to say, “That unharmed, whole, unstoppable Beth would….” Giving the obvious implication while saying these things, that I have been changed by this to the core of who I am. That was a different person than the one you see today.

So why did this effect me so strongly that I became different person? You can ask anyone that knows me personally, I move on past hurt and struggle quickly and positively. I do not dwell or fret on much for long. I am a pretty resilient person. Car accident? Stressful, but it happens. Loss of job? Heartbreaking, but I’ll find another one. Death of a loved one? I’ll need some time for my grief, but I’ll get through. I just don’t let things bring me to devastation. Life goes on. There is always those who have less or who are going through more. Just little speed bumps I have to slow life down for. My journey hasn’t stopped.

Then, I became that fictitious person I would compare my struggles to. That woman that had it so much worse than me. That person that had more than they could handle. That mother who couldn’t give to her kids what they deserved. I became them. Someone I had spent years feeling pity for. Someone who I felt, I could use as a worst case scenario, as a reminder to myself how great I had it. I was slammed out of my world of joy and dreams, and slammed into survival, bitterness, resentment, loneliness, and despair.

My days were filled with panic and fear. I spent so much time feeling jealous of pre-divorce Beth. How spoiled she was. Not that everything was great, she just took so much for granted. I would see these pictures on facebook, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!” “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” “Every journey starts with a single step” and the list goes on and on. I would lie to myself. That these were true. That my struggle and pain was not in vain. But deep down, I knew they were bullshit. There was no hope to ever get that Beth back. She is dead. She was killed by the divorce. She would never be back, and this new Beth could not handle or cope with any of the things the old Beth could. So I had to start from scratch on who exactly I was/am. Throwing out any and all preconceived notions about myself. I had to quit expecting things from myself that weren’t within my capabilities. And at the same time, I had to learn what I was actually capable of.

I would say one of the biggest changes in myself would be caution. I now know I have limits. Everything I have could be taken from me in an instant. I have no attachment to material things. The choices I make in life are now followed with constant stomach pain and anxiety sitting on my chest like a weight. Now, I am not naive to how horrible things can get. My constant optimistic outlook has been replaced with a realist view, with a touch of pessimism to keep me prepared for the worst. In a perpetual state of alert, scared to let your guard down for a moment. Cautious to the extent of distrusting or fearful at times.

The other change I find quite predominant would be compassion. While I’ve always showed care and love to those who are hurting, my sympathy has turned to deep empathy that is almost painful. I have been brought to tears simply by seeing the despair in someone’s eyes. To know how lost and broken that person is, and to feel helplessness in releaving their misery.

I also have an anger towards those who are delusional about life. Those who live in the land of fairy tails and rainbows. You know, those who feel that their life is so great because they do it the right way, with no gratitude that they have not yet encountered a life changing…..no…..a self changing occurrence. Hearing condescending advice and their “simple” solutions makes my blood boil. They don’t want to listen to how you got to where you are, or try to understand your hardship or pain. They have all the answers, and honestly, must believe you are a idiot. Their insulting “Why don’t you just….” very rarely is a possible solution. But if you try to explain why it won’t work, the assumption is that you are not seeking a solution. Their audacity pushes you to the edge. You realize, their intent is to not help. Nor is it to understand. It’s purely self righteous, verbal masturbation. So you calmly agree, walk away, and let them finish. So they can pat themselves on the back, and congratulate themselves on not being such an ignorant, unwise person.

Zombies, Desert Island, or Meteorite. They’re all the Same.

The other day, my 9 year old asked me why adults like end of the world movies. I don’t remember what brought this up, but she pointed out how a lot of shows and movies grown ups watch are about surviving the end of the world. So I started thinking of shows, movies, books, etc., that I enjoy watching. The Walking Dead, A Friend for the End of the World, The Book of Eli….the list goes on.

So I told her, “Well, when you lose everything, and the world as you know it disappears, you are brought back to your human nature. When there is no standard of style, pressure of socially acceptable conversation, or motivation to move ‘up’ to one job or another, our real selves come out. Are we a leader? A follower? Would you harm others? Or protect? Watching these shows open our imaginations to what we would do if it happened to us.”

Then, my fiancé and I had a conversation while listening to Ween. We were talking about Super Ego, Ego, and Id. The internal balance we all maintain. Through our entire lives we question this internal struggle. It’s the whole nature versus nurture debate. Ryan compared it to the cartoons with the devil on one shoulder, and the angel on the other.

With this vision of walking around with good and evil riding on my shoulders, I realized how our civilization views Id and the Super Ego. We have painted our natural instinct into a little devil, as if to suggest we must fight it or else we become evil. We learn and teach self control over our impulses to be able to function with others. In our society, we do go against a lot of our base instincts. Our ego is what separates us from animals. Having reason keeps us balanced. Yet, humans are self preserving. When the direct threat of harm or death is gone, we strive for something more. We protect the weak. We set up rules for life. Laws, consequences, and etiquette form on small and large levels. With our basic needs met, we spend our time micro-managing and obsessing about insignificant details. We start leaning toward the Super Ego, vilifying the Id portion of our psyche.

Now, my A.D.D. took over at this point, and I started to think about offensive things. Not actual things that are offensive, but the concept of being offended. How silly is it to take offense to anything? The Id part of us wouldn’t give it a thought. I imagine a caveman. Leaving to hunt, and his wife comes out crying because the cave woman next door “ughed” at her meanly. Hahaha.

Which brings me to pride (hope your enjoying this jolt filled ride through Beth’s mind). I do believe pride is instinctual. Even animals are competitive and assert themselves as the dominant male, or the most sought after female. So when someone gets their pride broken, they feel anger, embarrassment, frustration, and jealousy. If someone belittles something you have pride in, you feel a sense of violation. Having someone violate or insult your pride is a lot more of a base, instinctual feeling. Being offended, to me, is surface deep. A penguin will not get offended another waddling by collecting stones a different way, but will fight and defend is own and see his stones as a personal reflection on who he is as a penguin (if he could reason that thought out. Haha)

There are so many things I believe we have developed to fulfil our overly suppressed Id side. Being offended was created by us. Our nature needs to feel pride and motivation. We have set ourselves up in such a way, we are stagnant and live monotonous lives. So we create insignificant problems. We find things that offend us, that really have no matter in the grand scheme of who we are. Our efforts are focused on things that are shallow or materialistic. We find socially acceptable ways to be impulsive with our wants or feelings. We believe that catering to our Super Ego is somehow superior to our base level Id. The problem is, when you swing too far to either side of the spectrum, the other part will come out in in other ways. Because like it or not, they are both part of us.

To come full circle, that’s why we enjoy reading Lord of the Flies, or watch Lost. We want to imagine a life without bullshit. Where nothing offends, but we fight for our pride and survival. A world where the angel and devil on our shoulders are redefining right a wrong based on self preservation, not socially acceptable expectations. We get to see ourselves in the rawest form that way. Would be thrive in a survivalist world? Or cling to the idea order and being civilized? How would superiority be shown? In our current world, the successful are, most the time, obvious to the rest of us. Properly dressed, perfect manners, and have a presence that demands respect. So what would be the cue for us to know our alphas? We know deep down we came from uncivilized to overly civilized. To imagine our lives redefined and being able to escape this world of rules and expectations to one of survival, let’s us experience the Id portion of ourselves. It’s fun 🙂

I’ve Been Missing the Trees, Looking at the Forest

I have this overwhelming disdain for shallow people. I find myself wanting break them to the point of reassessing their lives and maybe find a little depth. I often use sarcasm and overly condescending responses while having conversation. Not always, but a lot of the times. I guess I feel like I want to embarrass them. I want them to think before they spew their unimportant, usually trivial, thoughts to the rest of the world.

That being said, I can play the part of “surface level” thoughts and conversations. It’s actually a necessary talent to have in the adult world. When these occurrences happen, I am usually left with an odd combination of feelings. Part of me feels accomplished and successful, almost like nailing a part in a play. It is an act, so of course I feel like if I can get through the entire conversation without letting a snide remark out, I am the MASTER OF BULLSHITTING! The other part of me feels dirty and tainted. (I can’t believe I just talked about which kind of bushes would look the best in the front yard for 10 min…..OMG was that fake laugh at her turmoil and final resolution over an eggshell or white for the entryway full of obvious sarcasm??). I feel as if I’m going against who I am as a person, like I cheated myself. But like I said, it’s an act. 

So why am I like this? Where am I taking you on this ride through the mind of Bethy you ask?? Well, we all know I love flashbacks, so join me to my teenage years!

It was in the early 2000’s. I’m not sure of the exact age, but that’s irrelevant anyways. I was sitting at lunch with some of the popular girls. Now, I was by no means popular, but was far from being a social reject. My perception of myself in high school was, I was a piece of furniture. Not really liked or disliked. Just kind of there. (of course in my mind, I felt forced into this role. As an extrovert, it drove me crazy not being noticed in one way or another.) So it was not an odd thing to be sitting by these girls. Then it happened. Almost like an out-of-body experience. I heard myself say, “Oh, I just looooove Clinique’s mint eye shadow. I think I’ll pick some up when I go to buy a bottle of Happy.”  *cringe* What am I saying? I actually didn’t like Clinique. To me it was overpriced, and not even that outstanding of quality. Besides, I knew I had no way of ever actually buying it. I worked part time at a restaurant, and would much rather save my money for something I liked, not something I need someone to see me use to feel like it was worth it. I very gracefully excused myself, and never looked back.

At that moment I realized, I could have made the transition to “being someone” in the high school realm. I chose not to. At the time I was really into politics. It fascinated me to learn the interactions and workings of each party. And, having helped with habitat for humanity and the soup kitchen, I was really wanting to involve myself in more “give back” type programs. I also was exploring different music types. Finding out there was more that Brittany Spears and The Backstreet boys out there. It was ok to not like rap. Punk music had WAY more than the pop-punk radio songs had to offer. I would NOT be able to share this stuff with these girls. If I wanted to be shallow, I had to STAY shallow. Yeah…..I couldn’t do it. So I made a decision to live my life for the big picture, and not get worked up about the small stuff.

So here I am. An adult who has learned to loathe the casual, mindless conversation. And it hits me. I have completely set myself up for apathy. I know there is injustice. I know there are starving children. I have SEEN poverty. I know our government is corrupt and flawed. I see the possibilities in this world for complete and udder devastation with all these empty minded sheep. So the little stuff loses its point. My laundry is clean, but what’s the point of putting it away? There are more important things out there. I should organize my paperwork, but who cares? Everything is there, why waste my time?? There’s a whole world out there, and people trying to eat! People dying!

I believe we NEED to feel a certain amount of self thought and shallowness. Because our personal lives are OUR worlds. The big picture isn’t getting any better by my lack of care for the little things. In fact, I’m probably hurting the cause. How can I teach my daughter’s how to take care of others if I don’t emphasize the importance of self care? Our own little worlds DO matter, and while I still dislike the fake interactions that happen on a daily basis, it’s ok to lift the burden of the “big picture” every once in awhile. Our first responsibility is to ourselves and our family. So, I will work on looking at some of the trees, since I already know there is a forest there. And maybe learn how to navigate myself through it. 

Life, a Wave Pool, and Finding a Calm

One time, in my early teenage years, I went to a water park with my Aunt and her family. We were having fun in the wave pool, until I found myself drifting to the deep end. My mediocre swimming abilities became quite apparent very quickly. I could no longer reach the bottom, and the waves were so large, I couldn’t seem to keep my head above long enough to swim to the edge.

I remember thinking, “I’m going to drown. No one is helping me. Please someone. Turn off the waves. Someone please grab me.” Wave after wave, I could feel my body exhausting, and the fear increasing. At this point I was trying to time it so I could try to get a breathe of air between waves.

I hear yelling and think someone is yelling to help me. Then I see glimpses of the life guards. They aren’t trying to get someone to help me, they are yelling at me. I was in the area that made the waves, and they were yelling at me that I needed to get out of this area. They thought it was on purpose, and obviously, did not realize I was in crisis.

The waves started to calm, and I quickly swam to the side. I looked around for some sort of comfort or concern, and no one seemed to even notice this occurrence happened. Laughter, joy, happiness, and enjoyment were all around me. This place or terror to me, was a relaxing, enjoyable place for everyone else.

It was probably 2-3 min total. A very small amount of time. Yet I can remember every moment. I felt upset, embarrassed, angry, and tired. How could no one have noticed me? What if they did? What idiot almost drowns in a wave pool? Should I tell anyone? Play this off? I need to lay down. And for goodness sake please don’t cry. Stop crying. You’re so ridiculous Beth.

This is how my life felt every day for 4 years. I was drowning. I was not able to keep my head above the harsh waves. What was just life, work, family, school, etc, was chaos for me. In a constant state of terror and exhaustion. While others were finding joy and excitement doing the same things as me, I was feeling as if I wouldn’t survive. There were many around, but I went unnoticed by most. My struggle was interpreted by others as intentional, or maybe even deserved. I was so weak. Panicking. Waiting for that brief break in chaos and hysteria for a breathe. Slowly realizing help was not coming and I just needed to survive long enough to get somewhere where I could hold on.

And then came the calm. With one last burst of energy, I found my way to safety. Not out of the water, but able to breathe. Looking around for some sort of acknowledgement of my struggle and pain. Feeling embarrassed I could let my life get so out of control. Feeling angry I was unnoticed by so many. Feeling jealous of those who were enjoying life. Feeling bitter toward those who added to my struggle, those who didn’t have the same struggle and I felt deserved it also. Feeling guilty for being so needy for help, like a burden. I was left with everything stripped from me. My confidence, pride, and joy were gone.

Now, I was not nearly as alone as I felt. I did have some very kind friends and family that showed me compassion and concern. But I could not expect others to put themselves in the “danger zone” with me, or they could drown too. They had to help the best they could from where they were at in life. I am thankful daily for this, but I still felt alone an fearful.

Yet, I did survive. Like the wave pool, I am very aware of every moment of this struggle. But what happened after the pool experience? Did I decide to never enjoy a pool or water again? Did I become fearful of any risk of losing control? Absolutely not. That’s not Beth. So I live life, with a deep respect for what can happen, but with complete, honest, love for where I am now. I will always know how helpless it can be, how broken down I can become. And I make a conscious effort to open my eyes for others that may be drowning in life, even if all I can offer is some care when they finally find their calm.

Appealing With My Curb

It always seemed like such a waste of time, or money to spend THAT much time on your yard. My assumption was that these overly enthusiastic yard workers either really loved being outside, or were just cocky little assholes with nothing else to do but try to be “that house” on the street. Gotta keep up with the Jones’ dontcha’ know.

There was a similar feeling toward those who’s interiors were done with the “look how awesome and creative I am” feel to it.  Themed rooms, with accent colors and features that connect each room. How very Feng Shui. 

Now I’m not talking about keeping up on your yard and house. My yard is always mowed, leaves removed, and sidewalk and driveway cleared of snow. My dishes get done. I dust, scrub, and mop. My house functions fine. I’m talking about the over-the-top perfect straight out of Better Homes and Gardens yards.  And the “I like this page in Pottery Barn, so I will duplicate it exactly” houses. Who cares? It’s all about functionality for this girl! you won’t catch me fretting and in deep contemplation over exactly which picture frame would best keep the desired vibe! I’m a busy mamma and I don’t have time to worry about all that crap!

Then….I grew up. I fell on some hard times. As a newly divorced, single mother of 3, I felt defeated in life. I sat looking out the window of a dated, underwhelming duplex and just felt so worn down. The kids were playing outside, and I remembered my parents working on the yard when I was a child. Hell. Why not? So I grabbed a shovel and started edging the sidewalk. That led to me edging the driveway. I worked and worked, and just got lost in the repetitiveness of the job.

Looking at the work I did left me feeling accomplished and proud. I was SHOCKED at what a difference this one yard task made. Pulling into the driveway, I felt at home, and a pleasant peace. So I took it one step farther. I bought some flowers. I let the kids plant them, and smiled every time I pulled in and saw that pop of color.

 Then next step. Curtains. I was going to buy some flipping curtains so I didn’t have to look at that old window frame. I went to the dollar store and bought some cheap, ugly, curtains. They matched, and that was good enough for me. It was life changing. My living room felt warm and inviting. ho-ly-shit. Who knew?? Not me! 

So here I am, years later, and my house and yard is most definitely decorated and coordinated. Functionality can only take you so far. It may serve our physical needs, but the extra feeds our spirit. It makes it ours. So next time you’re feeling down, spruce your place up a bit! It will give your soul a smile 🙂