to be seen

yesterday i had an experience of being seen. and it made me think about the various ways that we hide ourselves. who do we show our selves to? how many different selves do we have? whom do we show to the ones we love?

"i wonder what that means, being loved for who you are. i know it doesn't mean physical appearance - weight, skin, clothes, hair. it means, i think, the qualities that cannot be weighed or measured. the texture of the soul."

being seen and feeling heard are what makes us feel known and loved. but i wonder how much of our true selves we really show, even to those closest to us, and how much we continue to hide for fear of being judged, or disliked. 

“How would your life be different if…You stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter? Let today be the day…You look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey.” ― Steve Maraboli

i spend a great deal of time judging myself. how would my life be different if i trusted showing myself to the world - allowing myself to be seen? perhaps the people who love me wouldn't judge me. perhaps the people who would judge me aren't worth my time and energy. 

“If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.” ― Virginia Woolf

telling myself the truth about myself isn't easy. it's too hard to face the truth when you're busy trying to be someone else. being someone that you're not might be appealing but it is also exhausting. 

i leave you with this thought ...

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” ― Oscar Wilde

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

grumblins

“There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this.” 

― Terry Pratchett

i like to make up words, and to use made up words. for example, "grosh" means grumpy and irritable. "skress" is when you are frustrated and stressed out. "frazzle razzle dazzle" is my way of swearing around little ears. 

and then there is the grumblins. 

grumblins are when you hold on to things from the past that are long past time to let go of. 

“The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.” ― Steve Maraboli

i am thinking about my grumblins today because a political figure, whom i plan to vote for, was my first bully. i was 5. he was 7. but it's hard to let go of that. 

i still remember the mean things that he did to me when i was 5. i remember the teasing when i was 9. and yet, he is an excellent politician who has made a difference in our community ... but every time i see his face on a poster or a lawn sign, i think about the time he asked me to rate the breasts of all the girls in the school (it was a teeny tiny school). 

“Letting go means to come to the realization that some people are a part of your history, but not a part of your destiny.” ― Steve Maraboli

so what purpose does it serve to hang on so tightly to my grumblins? why do i remember every tiny injustice done to me? like when B&M stole my stickers when i was 8? or when J pinched me under the table with his toes when i was 6? or when A said "you know you have to dance at this rehearsal right?" when i was 14. 

the grumblins often weigh me down. 

so i turn to you ... what's your advice on how to get rid of the grumblins? what's your advice on how to choose what to hold onto and what is a balloon that needs to be let go of?

i eagerly await your responses. and if you are reading this by email, feel free to visit the website and leave your comment there. www.aprilgigiangels.blogspot.com

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

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butterfly wings

my blog is doing better than i ever expected. 

Pageviews today

69

Pageviews yesterday

56

Pageviews all time history

11,046

those are the stats from this blog. 11,046 page views. i have started to receive feedback through email, and comments. and it feels great. i hope that my words resonate with people. 

today i want to write about butterflies. again. i was recently asked how i will know when i have grown my wings, and that question has stayed with me. 

how will i know?  

“Hundreds of butterflies flitted in and out of sight like short-lived punctuation marks in a stream of consciousness without beginning or end.” 

― Haruki Murakami

in order to gain my wings, i will need to come to terms with my past. butterflies leave their caterpillar selves behind them. i am examining my story. sharing my truths that have been bottled up and kept secret for so long. through this process i am growing my wings.

maya angelou wrote: "we delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." the changes that i am going through are long and hard. looking at myself and looking at my past is hard work. understanding where i came from and how i came to be who i am today is helping me to become a stronger, happier, healthier person. we can't just become a butterfly without entering a cocoon and turning to goo and reforming as a new creature. 

change is terrifying. change means giving up the familiar, giving up what we know to be comfortable even when that means remaining in discomfort. sometimes it is easier to stay with the discomfort that we know instead of moving into the discomfort of the unknown ...

 in order to fully change, i have entered the discomfort of facing my darkness and sharing those dark spaces with the people i love. choosing the right people to share with means receiving empathy and compassion. a mere 2 months ago, i couldn't get off the couch, and now i have crawled out of my cocoon and am letting my new wings dry before  i try to fly.

going through darkness means facing the discomfort of my past. not dwelling in the darkness, not dwelling in what was, but learning how to make what is out of what i know, and relearning what could be. 

that was complicated ... 

going through darkness means facing the reality of my childhood, and learning how to take care of myself instead of everyone else around me. it means acknowledging what i didn't get from my parents, so that i can seek out those things now from other people, and learn to be a better teacher and a better parent myself. 

as scary as change can be, it can also be good. without change, there would be no butterflies. without change, there would be no growth, there would be no flowers, there would be no beauty in the world. without change there would be no art, no music, no creativity. without change, there would be no need for courage. and we would repeat the cycle of our parents, and grandparents, and their parents, and their parents. cycles of poverty, of violence, of addictions, of struggle. we need change to be able to create new cycles of love, hugs, beauty, affection, healthy relationships, and self-love.

sometimes changing is scary for the people around us. they wonder how they fit with the new you. remember that you aren't changing to get away from people, but to learn to love yourself more deeply. 

i trust this process. i trust the changes that have been happening within me and around me. i trust that one day i will be able to fly. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

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what's best

today i am celebrating that my blog has had more than 10,000 views - and that doesn't include any of the people who get the posts emailed to them. 

10,000 views of things that i have written. little, insignificant me. people from all over the world are visiting my blog. 

it is mind-boggling, overwhelming, and humbling. 

to celebrate this milestone, i am writing about doing what is best for myself. 

it's not easy to do what is best for myself. taking time off work was the most difficult decision i have ever had to make. there has been so much guilt associated with the decision. and it has been the best thing that i ever did for myself. self-care is not valued in our society. self-care is viewed as selfish. i was taught to take care of everyone, to take care of the needs of others, to give and give and give, and not to take. the idea of taking time for myself is so foreign that it feels kind of crazy. 

part of the anxiety about taking time for myself comes from wanting to be "better" ... wanting to fast forward to the place and time where i feel strong, and healthy, and happy. 

i asked nosy nora if she could wave a magic wand to make me all "better" ...

it is going to take time, unfortunately, for me to get to the place that i want to get to. i am moving forward on my journey. i am much further along than i was a year ago. i am much further along that i was a few months ago. but the only thing that is going to get me to where i want to be is ME. 

i have also wished for a fast forward button. this kind of work is HARD. and whenever i wish to skip ahead, i am reminded of the lyrics to my favourite song:

"sometimes we ask to take a closer look, skip to the final chapter of the book, and then maybe steer us clear from some of the pain it took, to get us where we are this far. but the question drowns in its futility, and even i have got to laugh at me. no one gets to miss the storm of what will be, just holding on for the ride." - emily saliers

here i am, in what i think is the eye of the storm. things have been quiet and calm lately, but i know that there will be stormy weather before i come out the other side. 

this blog has been a life-saver for me. it keeps me grounded. it keeps me afloat. it keeps me focused on what i need to do to get better. 

i appreciate all my readers. i appreciate the feedback and support that i receive. 

my best advice is to take time for yourself, even if it is 5 minutes a day. give yourself what you deserve, which is time and self-focused energy. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

the real deal

nosy nora asked me if my positive blog posts were reflective of how i was feeling these days, or if i was projecting into the future of how i want to feel ... 

... i think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. i am a different person than i was a year ago. i feel different than i did a few months ago. and i write my blog in a positive tone because i feel like no one wants to hear about what depression really feels like. 

so ... here i am, writing about where i am at right now. 

i wake up in the morning and i drag myself out of bed. i go to work because i want to have structure and routine in my day. but i am not "into" it. i plan my lessons and i teach my class. and the kids are sweet. today one of them gave me a jar of paper stars that she made for me. 

after 3 hours at work, i am exhausted and i head home. i try to stay awake, but end up napping. then i sit on the couch and try to convince myself that i need to get outside, get some fresh air, and go for a walk. i try to convince myself that i will feel better if i move my body, mostly because nosy nora thinks i will. but i lack the motivation to DO anything. i flip through channels on the tv and never settle on anything. so i end up putting on some music. i try to read a book, but i can't concentrate for more than a few pages at a time. i can't crochet because my hands hurt. i don't like talking on the phone, and even if i did, most people are at work or out doing things besides sitting on the couch. 

i want, more than anything, to go to the gym. and i keep planning to go, and then when the time comes, i have a panic attack and just can't get there. the longer i put it off, the harder it becomes to go. 

eventually i will find something to eat. maybe. and then i flip through the channels again until i end up on music and read a few more pages. 

depression is energy sucking. the only thing that i am interested in doing these days is writing. it is the one thing that helps me to get out of bed in the morning. i love knowing that when i get up, i can write. and knowing that after work i can come home and write. 

writing is my way of coping, of organizing my thoughts and feelings and packaging it all in one place - the page. 

so i hope that you will continue to indulge me as i write each day, sharing my thoughts, ideas, and feelings with the world - sometimes positive, sometimes negative, but always speaking my truth.

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

gratitude

"cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously." - ralph waldo emerson


today AS, CJ, and CG came to help us declutter our house. after reorganizing the kitchen and bagging up at least a tonne of stuff to donate, i was sitting by myself waiting for pizza to be delivered ... everyone else was in the basement organizing ... and i began to cry. 

i cried because i don't believe myself worthy or deserving of such kindness. i was overcome with gratitude and overwhelmed by the kindness being bestowed upon us. 

thank you AS, CJ, and CG for your help today. thank you for uplifting my heart, and allowing me to experience such gratitude towards you. 

"piglet noticed that even though he had a very small heart, it could hold a rather large amount of gratitude." - a.a. milne

be kind to yourself, and find a way to express your gratitude, even if it is only to yourself ...

xoxo

...

showing up ...

Vulnerability is about showing up and being seen. It's tough to do that when we're terrified about what people might see or think. - Brene Brown

sometimes showing up is the most i can do. and i find that really hard to accept.

i have been an over-achiever for as long as i can remember. committees, organizations, clubs, volunteer positions, and more than one job at a time is how i have always lived my life. 

high school involved showing up at 7:30 am to program the announcements into the electric sign in the cafeteria followed by an 8:00 am meeting of whatever club was on that day. then classes. then a lunch time rehearsal. then more classes. then an afternoon rehearsal for something else. and i also had regular babysitting gigs, and class performances. 

and every May i would have a freak out melt-down and think that there was no way i could possibly complete everything that needed to be completed, and then i would cry and my teacher, MD, would basically tell me to pull myself together and do it. and i would do it. because it wasn't impossible. at all. i just needed to get the crying freaking out meltdown out of my system. 

in grade 13, after my best friend died, i wasn't thinking clearly. i applied to universities and was accepted. but wasn't planning to go. i was going to take a year off. likely because i was depressed and grieving and feeling alone and lost. when i found out that i was accepted into the university that i had wanted to go to since i was 9 years old and went on a tour there ... i called MD and told her that i got accepted but wasn't going. and i cried. (MD, if you're reading this, you probably don't remember any of this. but you absolutely influenced the course of my life on that day. thank you. thank you beyond words) ... MD said, "of course you want to go and you are going." 

NOTE: MD has become an important person in my life and it feels important for me to say that. she has been influential in many situations. and she matters to me very, very much. thank you for everything. for listening, for being there, for being part of my life for the last 23 years ... can you believe it has been 23 years!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! much, much love to you.  

it was that simple. 

of course i wanted to go. i had been wanting to go there for 10 years. i had fallen in love with the campus at age 9. i had fallen in love with the women's centre. the idea that there WAS a women's centre. that feminism was part of the campus. it amazed me (at age 9).

so off i went. 

and i immersed myself in busy-ness. i held 3 part-time jobs, i volunteered at 3 different agencies, i took full-time classes, i became part of the women's community in the town. 

i was rarely home. i was always busy being a DO-ER of things. 

and this continued into my adult life until slowly i started to let go of obligations and turn more and more inward and insular. 

my life now consists of waking up (because i have to), going to work, going to choir practice (because i feel obligated most of the time - although singing heals me), spending time with SC (the love of my life), and sleeping. and then i wake up again. because i have to. 

showing up is the most i can do. 

i show up and i do what is minimal and at the moment, that is my best. 

i want to be more and i want to do more. i want to volunteer, and i want to be on committees, and i want to take a course, and i want to write a book, and i want to be in a show, and i want to go to museums, and to art galleries, and to travel, and to go out for dinners at restaurants i have never tried, and to spend time with friends, and to have coffee dates, and to be what someone referred to as "lively" ...

... and right now i can't do anything except show up. and be here. that's the most i can do. 

and if you are doing your best by just showing up, i hear you. i know. i understand. and it is enough. showing up for your life is enough right now. because it wont be this way for ever. even if it feels like it will be forever. it wont. at least, that's what they tell me. 

xoxo


...

Treating myself with compassion

tonight i ate half a pizza in one sitting in a very short time span. that was a lot of pizza. 

why did i eat so much pizza? 

i have come to learn that we are all made up of many parts of ourselves. the adult me is often not the one in charge. tonight, it was my 3 year old self who decided to eat the pizza.

last night i saw a photo in an old book. it was a photo of me at my 3rd birthday party. 

look at my eyes. look how scared I am. 

that day, i faced trauma and ran from it, only to be shamed by my parents and told to go back and face it again. i wasn't asked why i ran away. i wasn't asked why i was so scared. no one hugged me, or comforted me, or took the time to find out why i would hide in my room crying at my own birthday party. instead, i was scolded and forced to return to the scene of the trauma. 

no one listened to that 3 year old little girl. no one believed her. 

she learned that day that she didn't matter. that she wasn't worthy or deserving of care. that she wasn't worth listening to. so she found ways to numb her pain.

and tonight she reacted to the trauma by making the adult me eat half a pizza. 

which then brought on a shame storm. (Brene Brown) 

i began listing all the things that i hate about myself. 

the list is long and possibly endless. and i wont bore you with the details. suffice it to say, it was an incredibly long list of every little detail that i hate about myself which only led to more shame. 

and letting yourself be swallowed by a shame storm only begets more shame.

a very wise woman, who is also a very dear friend, AG, said "your little part is severely hurting ... you can believe her. i can believe her. i DO believe her. So are you going to continue to slap her in the face with it? ... resolve to treat her better." 

this is my attempt at treating her with compassion instead of the rejection that she received that day. 

i am choosing to share this piece of my story ... i am choosing to give her a voice. she wants to say that she was scared. she wants to say that she was hurt. she wants to say that she was just as important as the guests at the party who she was told were the reason she had to get her ass back down the stairs. she wants to say that someone needed to ask her what scared her to the core. why she would hide and repeatedly kick the dresser at her own birthday party. someone needed to notice that her fear was REAL.

giving her a voice makes her feel heard. making her feel heard helps me to forgive myself for eating half a pizza. giving her a voice gives ME a voice. makes ME feel heard. 

and it is my way of showing myself compassion. 

xoxo

...