My first instinct is to tell you not to expect too much here because I’m not at all sure what’s going to come of this. How to rid yourself of those negative voices is my first gift.
You hear the ‘don’t listen to them’ advice all of the time and those are more than just encouraging words. Those words are your power. It’s the only way to get started because one thing is for sure: If you don’t learn to put those voices in their place you surely never will climb out of the hole they keep you in.
For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. [II Timothy 1:7]
I’m especially partial to the “sound mind” part. (See Introduction below.)
Someone shared a simple method that works for me IF I use it. Honestly, though, sometimes I find it necessary to just let some run their course. Sometimes only the time of generating new memories can really fix what haunts us from the past, else we find ourselves endlessly fighting the old ones.
When I recognize negative thinking (which is usually the hardest part – recognizing doing it), I envision a colorful balloon whisking those away. By the time I’ve mustered this new thought the angst is gone. Some regrets truly are torturous. They become so routine we find ourselves uncontrollably wallowing in them. Have good thoughts ready to replace those, of what you are truly grateful for (health, loved ones, friends, finances, vehicle, home – and yes, even the simplicity of birds singing on a beautiful day).
This, my first page in a new blog and on this particular date, is poignantly with merit. Two years ago this very date, after surviving cancers and a heart attack and almost 20-years of investing myself and my resources in an abusive husband’s name, I awoke to his announcement “You cost more than you’re worth.” He proceeded to sell property and empty bank accounts and in that year’s historically treacherous northern winter abandon me in favor of a delightfully prolonged sabbatical for himself in Florida. The true outcome of struggling to stay married to a narcissist. Don’t bother.
Family betrayals that followed were indescribable. The divorce was unduly lengthy because his goal was to hang onto what money he hadn’t already spent. Only recently finalized, I’m still waiting for what comes of it. I’m a great-grandmother twice over who’s unexpectedly left with no family at an age when I should be surrounded by them; living in a new state where I know no one, trying to make ends meet on social security and driving a tattered 15-year old truck that my 90-year old father gave to me two years ago (God bless his heart).
In younger years I thought losing my 20-something baby sister to suicide was the ultimate life tragedy. I thought becoming the single mother of a troublesome child only to help rear her three fatherless children was tough. I thought I’d learned a bunch about life by surviving cancers and therapies that, I’m later told, were the harshest ever given. I thought living through a heart attack that doctors insisted should’ve killed me on-the-spot was a great feat of faith if not character. I thought finally being treated after years of living the agony of bipolar was a life eye-opener.
Trust me when I say, it’s more than ironic that at such a senior age I’ve learned more about life and human nature in these last two years than in all the other years of my life.
Those are my qualifications. These writings reflect what I’ve learned and the confusions I still contend with. And, yes, I still have haunting echoes, but I’m inspired as they begin to ever-so-faintly fade.
I refuse – refuse – to allow life’s circumstances or less than decent people embitter me. Life is worth more than throwing away my soul.
I am a woman on a mission.