S. O. S.

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Summer of Strength

Not that we are building actual 6-pack 20-inch python muscles (no judgement if that is your actual jam), but rather more of overall mental/emotional/maybe a little physical strength. Time to flex and shape our post-COVID or COVID-normative muscles in general. Setting intention to do so by:

S  Setting smile goals
T  Tell ourselves we can do this
R  Rest and relax
E  Eat/Exercise well
N  Notice Priorities
G  Giggle
T  Track progress
H  Hold accountability

Summer of Strength

SonHerisme’s school year officially ended on Thursday, June 17th. I gave us the weekend to flex and stretch our commitment muscle before diving full in on Monday.

Is this an overly optimistic set-up so that I can get sucked into the muddy squish muck mire of depression when we inevitably fail to meet our goals? Possibly. But for today, I am all about it. Both SonHerisme and I have used the phrase, “Summer of Strength,” for the past few days to encourage each other to accomplish some little things like: getting onto the treadmill, finishing laundry, driving to the park for a bit of soccering, putting away the last few Christmas and Easter things (judgementors, I patronous thee), and putting more donation boxes into the car.

Summer of STRENGTH!

I am determined to continue to lower my inflammation, and to read more. SonHerisme wants to fine tune some soccering things (SV2 style!), and up his maths game. I would like to make a lovely something out of some sheets we will never be using as bed sheets. SonHerisme wants to build raised garden boxes with tops to add for winter for year-round greens. SonHerisme also wants to clear out his room and paint it black and white (he’s turning teenagery this summer as well!).

Summer of Strength

SonHerisme wants to grill steak all on his own, and make fried chicken all on his own(blech – do you boo). I would like to finish cleaning out the garage and paint it (on the inside).

Summer of Strength

Both of us want to go to a few minor league baseball games, spend some time up at the local State Park lake, NGADC it up, and drive out to the beach for at least a day.

We are very fortunate people to be able to even think about doing these things. *fingers crossed* We are able to do some of the things.

Of course, COVID times have sucked many patterned discipline limits away… but, I’ll take that over any horrific alternative any day. SonHerisme also has a phone call with MrexH in a few hours *sigh* which he does not want to do so the anxiety energy is high up in these here parts of the universe world.

Ready? Set? Go!

Send us strength to make it through the Summer of Strength… and to be strong enough to let the sadnesses and unworthinesses and griefs and all of that to just be. Sort of strong enough to be soft enough to be enough.

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

(still wearing a mask on occasion, as needs must)

ps also, I have been… difficult to define this past week or so which is why I haven’t been here. koyc and ciao and I hope that you are well and near something beautiful like the ocean, a lake, river, canal, swimming pool, filled up tub, or maybe a clear glass of water. I hope it so very much for you!

Currently at 284 sent Weekly Progress Reports to MrexH regarding SonHerisme

We are safe, we are healthy, basic Maslow’s have been met (repeat on a drum beat until bedtime with extra cozy duvets for both of us please and thank you)

It Is My Story

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I know that you are trying to help…  it is the memes, man, the memes…

 

Dear Memes,

 

Please let me own my story

 

It is my story

 

Please do not ask me to let it go

 

Please do not expect me to be strong

 

Please do not suggest that I embrace the magical beauty of everyday

as if this is not the ONLY piece of my existence which is keeping me moving through my trauma

as if this will be what sustains me due to your suggestion

as if I am doing another thing wrong in addition to being in this trauma, which I must correct in order to be right with my world

 

Please let me own my story

 

It is my story

 

Please hold space for my story

 

Please truly listen to the reality of my story

 

Please help me find the nuggets of wisdom and strength from my story so that

I may truly own my story,

instead of my story owning me

 

Please

and

Thank You

 

Maybe, in time, this is how the trauma-ed we can move beyond the tragic defining moments of our lives.

 

Thank you for your help.  Y’all are awesome and SO needed!

 

Love, Ms. Herisme xo

ps this post seems to have an ungrateful twinge to it.  I do not feel ungrateful for all of the love, prayers, and support. I am eternally and supremely grateful!

I am doing a terrible job of trying to express that something feels so wrong to me.

All of us experiencing or having experienced trauma, want desperately to be out of it. We never wanted to be in it.  We want to be healed.  We want to feel healed and safe and healthy.  Being pushed to “drop it” “let it go” etc feels like “pretend it didn’t happen and stop speaking about it because it is making everyone uncomfortable now because can’t you go to yoga and release it to the winds of time because we want to be surrounded with positive light people full of happy inspiration fulfilling lives and you are totes bringing us down with your story…”

Why can’t we just know and acknowledge that shitty crappy things and people and circumstances are afoot, beyond the discomfort of too much laundry waiting to be folded, or dishes to be cleaned, or cars needing repaired (although, I acknowledge that these can be supremely stress inducing too)?

Why can’t we stop “healing” from some awfulness with an anticipated date of completion, as if once the stitches are gone and the skin is healed, the vibrant scars should never be explained or noted or spoken about, except in whispers?

Why can’t awful things, people, circumstances, be recognized as such and as a normal part of being human?

Why can’t we decide and own our stories instead of shoving them aside as if they are trash to be left on the curbside?

Our stories define us, no matter how we fancy them up or how we choose to address/discard them.

Why can’t we just own them and shape the hopefully eventual wisdom of living them in combination with all of our stories, and still be okay to have all of our stories?

I want to own my story so that it cannot own me.

Or, maybe I’m just a big meanie who needs a drink and a yoga break and let it go…