Freedom Friday: Am I Alive?

Set Yourself FreeMy Freedom Friday Post Is About Feeling Seen & Being Heard

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A macbook pro is on my lap, tons of papers scattered about, son to my right – laying damn there underneath my thigh. I hear the twist of the doorknob; it’s my husband. He smiles at me, kicks his shoes off, and drops his book bag where he stands. He doesn’t even realize that I just cleaned the house, and probably doesn’t care.

He forces his legs between the table and the couch so that he can make space to dive into my face with a kiss. I start a conversation about a great article that I read early that day. One that inspires me even. He knows that I have been down, and am fighting my way back to some kind of stability.

He reaches down to pick up the chubby-cheeked miracle that is laying next to me. I look up in his direction trying to make eye contact. He is swirling around with his bundle of joy in his arms. Of course, it’s the right thing to do, but the connection is lost between him and I, but vibrant and alive between he and our child.

My shoulders sink and I can feel my heart break. “Am I alive? Am I here? Am I heard?” I think to myself.

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I’m in my home office with my face in my hands for the 100th time. Tears are pouring out from my eyes in buckets. I am blabbering words that no sane human-being could understand, but praying that God can somehow make out what I am saying.

“I didn’t mean to quit my job. I am so sorry. I wanted something better. I couldn’t be there anymore. It was draining me. Please God forgive me. Please give me my financial freedom back. Please get me out of this mountain of debt. I am trying everything I can to make it. I don’t want to be like the rest of my family. Broke. Poor. Begging for spare change. Barely able to get myself the basic needs.”

I am able to catch a breath for a half a second and then I continue.

“Please God, I don’t want to depend on my husband anymore. I want my own money. I’m glad he’s here, but I need to feel independent. I’ve poured my heart and soul into my books and tons of people are reading them, but no one is buying them. I tried everything that I had the strength to try. Please God. Please. Am I alive? Am I here? Am I heard?” I question as I wipe the snot from my nose with my sleeve.

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I’m flipping through the pages of a catalogue and my eyes come across a beautiful set of candles. I smile. Why? Because I love candles. They lift my spirits.

I run my hand over the glossy page of the catalogue as if my gentle caress will somehow generate a wormhole for the candles to appear. I’m ignited for a second when I notice what catalogue I’m reading. “Bed, Bath, and Beyond. It’s not that far away; maybe 15 minutes at most. I can make it there,” I think to myself with optimism.

My eyes drift to the right. There’s a stack of mail sitting there. There’s a letter addressed to me with big bold letters that reads CREDIT SOLUTIONS INC. I know that it’s another bill, from the same people who wrote me last week, demanding all the money I owe them.

The letter lovingly (sarcasm) reminds me of the fact that I don’t have the money in my account to purchase the candles anyway. I close the Bed, Bath, and Beyond booklet disgusted with myself and the world in general. “Can I just admire something without feeling guilty. I just want some damn candles. It’s not too much to ask. Am I Alive? Do My Desires Matter? Am I heard?” I think to myself.

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It’s a week or two after my birthday. My sister shows up to my house with one of my favorite people (my niece). We all sit down in the living room and chat for a few. After a while she says, “I have a birthday gift for you.”

I’m shocked, because I really didn’t expect to receive anything from her. I sit back with anticipation as she reaches in her black oversized pocketbook and pulls out a $25 Children’s Place gift card.

“It’s not about you anymore,” she says with a laugh. “It’s all about the baby when you have kids,” she finishes. My shoulders slump and my heart breaks. “I didn’t know that having children meant I wouldn’t exist anymore. Does she see me? Does she care? Am I alive?” I think to myself. 

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Freedom Friday’s are all about releasing the things that hurt us the most. It’s about freeing up space to allow the new things to enter your life. It’s about being completely honest about the things that are hurting you to the core, making you doubt yourself, and causing you to lose hope. On Freedom Friday’s we have the space to let it out. To say it. To release it, and remove it from our bodies and minds.

Here today, I confess that I have been having a rough few years. Despite it all, I still put on my hat and go to work. I don’t mean a physical work place. I mean doing what I can to improve myself, continuing to write, continuing to try to see the good in things, and continuing to put myself out there no matter what. Something in me will not let my dreams die. The voice inside is much different than my own critical voice. It’s compassionate, patient, accepting, and comes up with ways to try and help me move past this rough patch. Writing is one of the ways that I am able to let it out.

I don’t know what the details of my future are, but I do know how I want to feel.

If I just have that little piece, I have a step.

Going forward I would like to feel,

Abundant, Appreciated, Considered, Important, Blessed, Forgiven, Seen, Supported, Inspired, Comforted, Helped, Acknowledged, Aligned, Fruitful, Relieved, Financially Stable, & Gifted.

I let out a long deep breath and allow my heart to send a message out to All That Is.

I can’t do this alone.

finished-heartNay

Freedom Friday: The Year I Ruined Christmas

Set Yourself FreeMy Freedom Friday Post Is About Christmas Time

I don’t know why this incident has been on my mind lately, but nevertheless, I feel the need to acknowledge my feelings towards it, make amends with it, and let it go. That is what Freedom Friday posts are all about. This story happened when I was about 15 or 16 years old and it’s when my grandparents were living.

It was Christmas time and I remember telling my grandparents that all I wanted for Christmas was a cordless phone. I was a teenager and of course I wanted to be cool and fit in – which I am sure many of you can relate to.

Anyway, I remember attempting to go to bed about 11 pm on Christmas Eve and before I went to bed I went to check underneath the Christmas tree to see how many gifts I had received and what sizes they were.

When I went to check under the tree there was 1 gift. It was a small box and to me, it did not look like the cordless phone that I had spent two months prior telling my grandparents that I wanted. All I can say is – I Was Not Happy.

So I tried to go to bed but this irritating feeling was inside of me. My mind chatter was constant and I wasn’t able to go to sleep right away. I was thinking to myself, “this is crazy, they knew what I wanted, why didn’t they get me what I asked for, why would they get me a stupid gift instead of what I really wanted” – and on and on the negative chatter went.

I found myself getting up several times during the middle of the night to look at the box again. I even shook the box to see if I heard anything in it. The contents in the box didn’t make a sound – which made me even more frustrated.

I went back into my bedroom and then a little devil appeared on my shoulder and told me to go and open the gift. Now everything in my body told me not to do it. I stopped myself several times from walking into the living room by turning myself around and going back into my bedroom. I mean I almost literally was being pulled in the opposite direction. My conscious SCREAMED to me – donnnnnn’t do it!

Before I knew it I was in the living room, right next to the tree, tearing off mini pieces of the wrapping paper to try and get a sneak peak at what was inside the box. Once 10% of the paper was torn off, I figured I might as well just rip the bandaid (the other 90% of the wrapping paper) off.

I opened the present and would you believe that it was my cordless phone. The very gift that I said that I wanted. I smiled so hard that my face hurt. Once I got through the initial excitement I was then possessed to plug up the phone to charge it. Because you know that I had to be able to use it immediately.

So the gift’s open, the cordless phone is stretched across the living room floor, and my grandparents are waking up to see what the noise is in the living room.

My grandfather was the first one out of the room, and when he saw that I opened my gift he was so furious. He was devastated. He went on to say some things like, “he wanted to see me open it, and why would I do that, and why couldn’t I wait” or something of that nature.

My heart sank.

I was just an excited, eager, impatient kid, and I ruined Christmas for my grandparents. I still carry that with me to this day. I think about it all the time; especially when it gets close to Christmas time. I don’t know why I carry something so small and childish around, but I do. I guess it’s the look on his face that said – you disappoint me and ruined this Christmas, that makes it hurt the most. 

There was no way for me to take it back. I wish I hadn’t opened the gift. That day was one of my biggest regrets. I had what I wanted, but I had broken my grandfather’s heart. 

I want to say here and now that I am sorry grandpa for being so impatient, and for not waiting. I am sorry that you didn’t get to see the joy on my face when I opened my present. I want to thank You and Granny for getting me what I asked for even though you guys didn’t have a lot to give. I want to thank you for thinking of me and for considering what I really wanted. It meant the world to me. It really did. I only hope that I can put a smile on my child’s face as wide as the one that you gave to me that year.

I am ready to let that go with a heartfelt apology and an even more heartfelt thank you.

I love you!

finished-heartNay

Freedom Friday Introduction

Set Yourself Free

Welcome To Freedom Friday!

Sounds Cool – But What Is It?

Freedom Friday is where you get to come clean about the things that are heavy on your heart. Every Friday you get to come to this space and release any feelings that you may have pent up inside. This space is not a space for you to be judged or criticized. It’s not a space where you will be graded on your writing or red-marked for your spelling or grammar.

This space was created for you to release your pain through writing, to write about the things that give you a sense of freedom, and to express yourself freely. Sometimes we hold things in, and it winds up hindering our truest expression. The burden of such things weighs on us like a ton of bricks. Freedom Friday is a day where you have permission to lay that burden down.

This space is a space where you get to acknowledge your feelings, express them, make amends with them, and then set them free. It’s a purification exercise that I believe will free up some more space for your creative expression to flow more abundantly.

Are you ready to cleanse yourself of the feelings you have been holding inside? If so, don’t forget to click the “leave a comment” button at the top of the post, and share your story. If you prefer to share the post on your own blog please be sure to add the words Freedom Friday to your post & link back to this post.

Thank you for reading!

finished-heart Nay