Mack Truck of WTactualF

TL:DR....get over it. This IS the short version! When my mother died, in 2016, I drove out of Nebraska and Kansas at 90 mph (don’t tell the cops, Mark if you read this hush you know me…lol) with AC/DC blaring on the radio. Truthfully, I might not have slowed down until I was miles from my destination. I was mad that all the family I left standing there, with no intentions of ever returning, were alive and she was not. I was mad at the world that I’d never talk to her again and so many useless people were still alive.

I’d been mad at the world for a long time and didn’t realize how much so. I was mad at all those horrible little things that people do to each other. Pushing their pain on another. I was mad at pedophiles that run through my family and made me become a helicopter mom because I’d be damned if my kid was going that round. I was mad at my mother for the pain of her marriage and own trauma that had been put on my shoulders. I was mad that my father always favored his step-kids to me. I was mad at my sister for years of abuse. I was mad at my brother for being an alcoholic, though I never blamed him, didn’t stop the mad! I was mad at my husband sitting next to me for every broken promise, most of which he didn’t even remember making. I was mad that I’d chosen to marry him rather than another. I was mad at a million things that I won’t even bore anyone with but I was MAD!

I drove most of the way back to the east coast as I’d hardly slept for a week, I knew my mother would be there when I did finally sleep. On the rather long drive, I thought about all that anger, I was done with it.

By the time I got to my apartment I’d built a desert in my brain. Oceans of sand and an oasis at the end. I wanted that oasis and knew from my few times in therapy, and my attempt at a psychology degree, that the trip was long and hard. I had a few things in life that would be worth that journey.

Every day I’d bury my baggage in the sand. All those moments of hate, pain and anger, and start walking to my beautiful oasis. Something would catch up. I’d open the bag, deal with, compartmentalize, or rebury the issue. Then start again.

Four years and I thought I had everything enough under control that I tried to sprint to that oasis. I left my husband and moved. I knew I still had some things to deal with, that it would take a little more time, but being away from the daily pain would help that process.

Oh wow was it a process. All that pain was still inside, it poured out in waves of aggression and trauma filled words ruining my favorite connection still on this planet(other than my kid but I guarantee he got snapped at once or twice). And I seemed to be a hapless participate. My brain knew better than to bleed on another human being but my mouth was in trauma response mode. Anyone who has depression, trauma or other mental illness understands this. If you don’t, congrats you’ve lived a better life than most. That response is attack me and I’ll attack back. Bleed on me and I’ll bleed back. AND I KNOW BETTER!

To say the least I did try everything I’d ever learned to stop the negative happening around me. And I failed in every step.

There were days where I, a workaholic, couldn’t work. Days I thought about putting myself in an institution, at least for a 72-hour evaluation. I’m pretty sure I technically had two or three full breakdowns. (promise I’m better lol)

Every time I felt better, I’d crash five minutes later.

The process wasn’t supposed to be THIS hard! Then again 43 years of holding on to every trauma ever perpetuated against me should have never happened in the first place. If you were taught better, I'm so very happy for you.

One common go to for our minds and bodies is to shut off emotions. It’s the, “this is too much,” just take the break! I promised my mother years before her death I would never again take that option.

I had a rough morning May 1st. Same shit different day. I realized that somehow all the pain had shut me down emotionally, not that I meant to, it just happened. The friend that had gotten the brunt of me over the year before, got that morning too. Something to the tune of, hey my emotions are off, take your best shot. Internally I'm sure there was an asshole thrown in there.

The shot still hurt! Anger and rage, and the feeling of no this isn’t right!

But… I knew they’d shut off their emotions over a year before. The black shaped heart box that surrounded their heart was well and locked. Been there done that and…

In that, I realized that the shot, like all those taken over the year, was because there was only brain and pain, no real emotion. I’d done it myself a hundred times over my lifetime. An automaton that has a goal and nothing like my own feelings were going to get in the way. A fear response to, I’m going to get hurt!

Some run. Some shut down. Everyone has their own version or all the above.

I laughed.

I hadn’t honestly laughed in months! The person who normally says, laughter is the best medicine, had forgotten to laugh!

I laughed at the audacity of trying to live without my emotions. I laughed at the audacity that I was worth more than the words, and the situation I was being told about.

And then the Mack Truck of WTactualF hit me.

I’m worth more than that!

I’m worth more than a Jerry Springer rejected episode of a moment in life.

And so is my fucking friend! Not that they’d believe me at that moment anymore than the hundreds of times I’d said so before.

The Mack Truck of WTactualF was full of my self-worth. It knocked all that pain and trauma somewhere near GN-z11 (it’s the farthest galaxy ever detected in the universe for those that don’t want to google).

Five years at this point since my mother passed and I decided to tackle all the crap inside that I’d been clutching. When all I needed was a huge epiphany of, none of that matters.

The pain and trauma was only causing issues. I didn’t need to hold it. I didn’t need the memory. I didn’t need a list of “what they did to me”. Not one moment of it matters. The only reason it even exists is I allowed it space in my brain and heart.

I dropped it all in a split second of, my friend is worth every grain of sand from the moment before the big bang to the moment the last star burns out…and they don’t see it.

I am worth that much too. Holy WTactualF!

I don’t know a person who isn’t holding tightly to some little piece of their lives as the “that ruined my life…” For my friend it’s a five-page pamphlet that should have burnt the moment their marriage ended. Yet, I know they are still holding on to the ashes and I now realize all they have to do is open their hand and those ashes will fly away. It’s not who they are. It was a moment of pain even I can’t imagine, but stopped being important years ago.

I’d force the action but I have realized that we each have to find our own Mack Truck of WTactualF. No matter how many times I was told, you are worth more than that, I had to learn for myself.

So as of May 1st, which I need to come up with a cool name for(think Double D-Day from What Dreams May Come), I have more self-worth than I think I’ve had in my entire life. I found me under the mountains of trauma and pain that I dared to carry with me. I found my patience, couldn’t even tell you the moment I lost that. I lost my anger! I lost my trauma! The memories are there, the lessons learned, but there is no repeating film reel.

There’s a whole new me. Not too different than the old but also worlds away.

Don’t think about trying to hurt me, my demons are on an indefinite vacation, not dead (took me three days to find them and then only because I was looking. The thought of someone hurting a kid and one said hi!)

I still get frustrated. So this isn’t quite enlightenment.

But this is what happened to me. Lesson learned.

Pack up all that crap you carry with you and send it too the farthest point in the universe.

Drop it in the abyss and never let it gaze out.

Send it back to hell.

Because you are worth it!

So basically everyone has to put up with all the extra inspirational things I’m sharing until I’m sure everyone understand they are worth more than they are allowing themselves. Sorry, not sorry!

If you are wondering how big that truck was, told my almost ex-husband I forgive him for all the crap. Don't want him in my life but I'm not taking one grain of that sand with me moving forward. And today (May 9th) found this fantastic youtube video that goes further than this. Yes it's long but the point is no one else should have to spend 5 years trying to reprogram themselves.

Abraham Hicks

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