Uncategorized

Laughing At Myself

The other day I asked two besties, age 13, to walk with me. They asked if my youngest, age 12 would be coming along. I answered she wasn’t home but if she was we would walk twice as fast because she naturally has speed some of the best athletes want. They laughed, we went walking.

Low and behold guess who came home, put her stuff down and ran down the street, around the corner and caught up with us. You guessed it, Laura is her name. Well, we began to make a game out of who could get around her and wear her out. By then night fell and we were all getting tired 30 minutes into the walk with 15 more to go. It was dark out.

It was my turn and I ran as fast as I could through the grass but when I did my foot fell into a divot in the grass. The idea that I should have been able to chase her in the dark was preposterous but prideful, sure I’d show her I still had it; face planted knees first in the dirt! I was humiliated! I knew I’d done it to myself. No one but me to blame, I laughed my ass off!

The girls were mortified my knees were bleeding but I reassured everything was okay. All of the joined me in hysterically laughing about how ridiculous I must have looked. Of course, the dangling of June bugs off my shirt didn’t help. They helped me up and dusted me off and I hobbled home–embarrassed!

Sometimes you can’t take yourself too serious! I was prideful, wanted to be young, show them I still had it, and it quite literally but me in the face. I could have given into the failure of my attempt or I could just make light of a very bad situation. I chose the latter.

My knees still hurt, but not as much as my pride. Next time humbleness is in order! ❤️

Thanks for listening!

Rebecca Nietert

amwriting, Inspiration, Uncategorized

Forgiving Ones Self is Harder!

When you have an extensive network, and you know a lot of people, you feel blessed when you can say you have more than five intimate friends. All my life, people have moved me from one house to another, from one city to another, and from one state to another. Networking became second nature.

Last night I learned that a man I’ve known for seven years passed away suddenly. He was a heavy drinker when I knew him, but that increased over time and the profound sadness of losing both his parents ended with the crescendo of Sorosis of the liver and failure of his kidneys. What could have been completely avoidable, ended by taking his life.

The minute I heard, thoughts of how I could’ve reached out flooded my soul. The guilt of not keeping in touch, not cultivating, not even picking up the phone to see if he was okay, because he was such a alpha male, that it never occurred to me he wouldn’t be okay?!

Which brings me to the topic of this discussion. It’s so much easier to forgive others when they offend us, then it is to forgive ourselves for our transgressions. How do you forgive yourself when you know there is something you could have done and yet did nothing? What are the steps that you take to forgive yourself?

Guilt is poison! You can’t hold onto it! It cannot be resolved! It is the toxic chemical that poisons your soul and your mind. Living with guilt is harder than living with pain or sadness because it is all consuming. Releasing that guilt is what is necessary, but when you have the understanding the fault lies with in your actions, how do you get to resolution?

Thoughts?!

Inspiration, Uncategorized

Being Kind Should Be Easy

Today I told someone I am about as transparent as I can be. I thought I was!

I tell people about my life-my circumstances-my choices all the time. What was pointed out to me, was that it seemed, “unbelievable.”  The person to whom I was vocalizing my past in an almost chronological newsworthy kind of way, revealed that to them my words seemed shallow.  As I listened further, I learned that she felt I was lying due to the limited emotional attachment to some pretty heavy circumstances. I thought, You know what? She may be right?

I am a survivor. That is undeniable. I lived through a ton of crap, all to become this tough passionatly tenacious cookie everyone sees.  Whatever happened to the girl inside? What happened the young woman that actually felt all that pain? Had I learned so well to forgive, that I no longer have emotional attachment to the pain? Or have I just entered a PTSD scenario, where I push all my feeling inward? That’s my modus operandi, so when she informed me of her perceptions I had to pause. I asked myself one seriously mind-boggling question. Am I still able to feel after all this time? After all that’s happened? Can I allow myself to let the pain in?

My internal dialog seemed to continue without my permission in an almost audacious fashion. I wondered, Do I allow others to see me feel pain? When was the last time I could remember feeling emotions of empathy or sorrow? The outer shell that I strategically placed around my feelings all those years ago cracked, and for one moment insecurity swept through me, just as if I had full-body entered a cool-pool of water. My brain betrayed me.

I spent the afternoon postulating that I had opened some form of flood gate.  My emotions all over the place reeked havoc. I decided the only place I was safe from altering my perspective was solitude. I went home. Retreated. Left in a massive hurry to collect my thoughts. To do something to get my rejection compartmentalized, and then it hit me.  I am doing exactly what I feared. I suppressed the pain of rejection so that I can move forward. She was right. I had no feeling in my story when I spoke to her. It was if it happened to someone else the way I told it.  Who wouldn’t feel like I was lying?

Survivors deal with things in a whole different way than people who have never had darkness in their life.  People who have life challenges like separating parents, or divorce, or financial difficulties, have tough circumstances they have to go through. I don’t want to make light of that pain. What I have learned is it’s a whole different thing to be a victim of something you didn’t do, and couldn’t control. It changes everything. It’s altering, to some life shattering, and at best burdensome to endure. Add several life circumstances back to back and you should have one blazing nut job!  (I may seem a little nutty but I assure you I am sane.)

If I am as transparent as I tout, shouldn’t I be willing to put some humanness in my story? Shouldn’t that include a touch of sentiment? Inflection in my voice? Some sense of burden I carry? So that maybe when anyone should hear of my successes, they will comprehend the great courage that it took to get there? If you were listening would it matter to you?

I sit here this evening compartmentalizing all that I have felt today so that I can make sense of the things that I recall. I have to go through forgiveness drills so that I can wake in the morning with a new perspective to touch another with hope. I really pray that my message is heard. That message being that there is someone who was strong enough to overcome much of the same circumstances causing them pain. There is someone who believes that if you want to change who you are, to become who you think you should be, you can.  Life can be filled with joy!

If I can share this with you, I hope that when you see someone who seemingly has no emotion, who is just as rigid in stance or maybe composed as I was earlier, you will know that there is a flood of something going on down deep. There is a story there. Everyone has an untold story. Everyone is a real person with real feelings, who has triggers that will set them off.  Everyone has a sense of being uncomfortable in a very unforgiving world.  Show love. Show compassion.

I put my ego back in check. I chalked the experience up to a lesson learned. Each one of us is different in how we process our pain. I will inject some kind of personal emotion when I tell my stories now. I have to. I want to include others when I engage in conversation. I want people to know I am sincere when I type what has happened. I want to connect on a personal level.

The last thing I want someone to feel about me is that I am attempting to remain shallow. So while her rejection prompted a childlike reflex, and subsequent retraction from people, I am glad that she spoke to me with truth. I am not afraid of introspection. It’s part of my growth process, and I hope and pray that you too find it part of your growth too. We cannot change what we need to without knowing what it is that we need to change.

Inspiration, Uncategorized

Changing Your Perspective to Joy

A long time ago, a woman very harshly told me that joy was my choice. She said that if I could just see it, I could certainly possess it. She was rather insistent that I get out of my bad mood and what is tantamount to an attitude of just “get over it.”

People who are so maliciously impatient with those who are suffering often truly bother me. They say or act in inappropriate ways. If I wasn’t who I was and I didn’t understand that was more about her inabilities than it was about her worry for me I don’t think I would have come to the same conclusions, which was that she was correct.

I was losing my home, I was fighting for my life because doctors could not figure out why my immune system was attacking me, and for the most part I was becoming increasingly frail and thin. I was in a state of shock, despair and I was stuck there.

Here’s the deal, you and me and everyone on this planet has to process through the things that hurt in a healthy way. When we get stuck in one of those four or five stages of grief it hurts us in a more deeply affected way. That hurt lasts a lifetime. That’s where I was. I was stuck, and I blamed. I resented. I hurt.

When I stopped focusing on the pain, and began to focus on the things that made me smile, I began to realize I was capable of joy. That felt like a revelation to me. When I saw the innocence of children playing. When the sun shined. All of the little things that I took for granted seemed to magnify themselves just for my mental health. When I would get dizzy I began to make jokes about it and people felt more at ease. All of the sudden my world opened up to laughter which is the first step toward finding that joy.

Today might be the day that you feel is worse than the last, but Sweetheart, the only person who can turn this day around is you. No one is going to come and take your hand and force you to smile. You have to believe that you are worth it. You have to believe that you have options. You have to believe in the hope that in the huge span of your existence, this is a blimp of a moment that will soon pass. You’re going to be okay. You got this. It’s hard, and it hurts, but find something, anything that will make you smile. Latch onto it. Don’t let it go. Ride it out as long as that feeling lasts and get yourself healthier.

Do it for you. Find that joy. Good luck to you.