Usually I begin blog posts apologizing for not writing in such a long time...I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm going to let you know that I'm attempting to start writing again. I'm hoping to get something out, mainly of my head, a few times a week. I contemplated just writing in a journal, which I, again, am attempting to do a few times a week, and realized that I had some things I'd love to share. Whether the audience I'm addressing reads this, who knows. But I feel like I've had an experience, and still am having it, that is different yet the same as many.
I think labels are hard.
...even the "good" labels make it hard for us to embrace this "human experience" we are all having.
I'm guilty of it. That's why I'm writing this blog! To let you know just HOW guilty I am! But also to recognize that we all label in one way or another.
Many times we label ourselves as
out of shape
...well, those are just a few of my personal favorites!
I'm not saying that labels are all bad. If my daughter didn't have a label that says "I have ADHD and developmental delays," she wouldn't have an IEP that does an amazing job in letting her teachers learn how to teach her. She wouldn't be eligible for medicine that regulates her brain chemistry so that she can "be" in the world instead of running around it at 100mph. She wouldn't have parents who have read and researched everything they can about ADHD.
Labels don't work well when we use them without a bounce board. You know, those things that bounce tennis balls back to you at the gym? I could convince myself that I am the way I am because I'm
or because I'm
a child of divorce
or because I
grew up in an alcoholic home
or because I
or because I
have three adopted daughters
I have done a pretty good job of that in the past. Sure, those labels have helped me identify the areas of my life that may have been affected by these things and gives me a point to start from. But they have also lead me to believe that I am ruined because of them.
And I'm starting to realize that that's not true. I have tools, just like my step-dad did. He couldn't fix the snowmobiles and get them running without them. His problem? broken snowmobile. His solution: tools. My problem (and many others in the world): Trauma-filled Past. My solution? Tools.
I read a wide variety of self-help and health-related books. I go to therapy once a week for me, once a week for my marriage and at least a couple of times a month for my children. I have started taking better care of my body and putting my basic needs first. I am going to physical therapy and yoga each week to finally address back and shoulder pain that has been chronic for more than 12 years.
and you know what?
I feel better.
No longer do I feel the need to bitch about my shoulder pain and link it to my kids with attachment issues, adhd or anxiety. Sure, those things exist and they wear me out on a daily basis. But I'm taking care of myself. I'm pulling some of the energy cords back in.
And the result is a happier, calmer and more patient me.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. Please leave me a comment if you are so inclined, I'd love to hear from you.