I lost my shit so I could rise to the challenge. Sometimes, it’s the only thing you can do to win.
Please – read on…
I’m old. Like 48 years old. Except I feel 20 in spirit. My body has disagreed with me multiple times and has sat me down to try and warn me of the narcissism that I will create if I continue down the current path that I am on. It’s creaked and moaned and groaned until I finally gave it the bird and said, ” FUCK YOU. The most advanced piece of technology that has even been put on this planet and you can’t do something as simple as drills and leg kicks and spar? Sure, you’re gonna get punched, sure you’re going to get kicked. Who’s gonna save your punk ass if some dude – I am a small woman in stature – wants to get his hands on you and hurt you when you’re like..60 and he thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips and can take your ass down and steal everything you’ve worked your ass off for? You’re a fucking loser and I’m not listening to you. Two Billion years of evolution and you want to sit down at 48? What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re the Mother of three healthy young men. You want to have the stamina to keep up with those grand-kids you’ve been talking about for years. You don’t do that by sitting on your ass and ‘hoping’ things are going to just miraculously materialize. Dumb Ass.”
My brain and I have been in mortal combat for the last three months. Guess who won 🙂
So what’s the deal on losing my shit you ask? Well. I lost my shit a few years ago actually. What I mean by that is, I lost my temper. My cousin and I are calling it my nuclear explosion. It was ugly. I’ve spent the last couple of years telling people about themselves. After years of people telling me about myself and doing the Christian thing and giving them other cheek to slap the shit out of; I finally swung back (metaphorically) when it has been appropriate.
I’ve lost people I thought were my friends when I spoke my truth. Some family members I don’t speak with anymore because I haven’t been able to dole out money like I used to. Seems they really never had another use for me. The losses have been emotional as well as spiritual. I’ve had to deal with grief on levels I didn’t even know existed. ugh…I’ve had to parent myself in ways I have never parented myself before. It’s been quite the struggle. Patience has never been one of my stronger virtues and patience with myself – nonexistent. To say that keeping myself calm over the last couple of years has been a struggle – is vastly an understatement. Yoga has been a daily part of my life just to breathe that shit out. Let me tell ya..woooo.. I’ve also had to do something that I never thought I would have to do. Dope myself. Any by doping myself, I mean I had to literally sedate myself from harming someone while I underwent this descensitization process to relieve myself of a condition that is called Complex PTSD. I smoked ALOT of weed to control the anger and hostility I was feeling. I was seriously afraid I was going to hurt someone. Weed kept me from completely losing my mind. I was close. Very close.
Shit I had stored since I was a very young child of 7 that had festered and gotten to the point that it had to be dealt with or it was going to end up killing me. I don’t recommend the process I used BTW – seriously. Complex PTSD and PTSD are nothing to mess around with...There are other methods that work just as well. I’m just really hard headed and like doing things my own way. I learn best when the lesson is hard. So that it is retained. What is currently available (HEMP Oil/CBD) wasn’t when I began this process in addition to alternative energy therapies. I used HEMP oil to replace the weed last November. HEMP has below the legal limits of THC – which is what causes the psychedellics – but all the great benefits of relaxation and contemplation and creativity. It allowed me to consider everything I needed to what I needed to work through and come to a point where I could actually think rationally again so that I could do something about my predicament.
Roughly three months ago there came a point in my training where the expectation to commit to the discipline. I had to give this some seroius thought and packed my bags and came North to clear out the remaning bullshit that was rattling around in my brain and decide if I was worth the effort it was going to take to get what I wanted. I would have to focus, really focus and learn new skills. My brain was having real problems with the idea of learning. Stamping around throwing a fit, and crying…I’ve aleady been to school and college. I’m tired of learning…blah blah blah. I was behaving like a toddler that wasn’t getting their way. Not something I normally do.
These last three months have been a stand off between what I know I can do, and the fear, excuses and years of conditioning that my brain has undergone since childhood. Deeply embedded in the mind. Takes focused effort to find the roots, dig them up and and create new neural pathways so past behavior doesn’t dictate future behavior.
I did my Mom thing. I waited me out. I knew what I didn’t want. I had to make the committment to do what I did want. I hit me in the pocketbook. Nothing less than full committment would do. I put the same conditions on myself that I put on my kids when they began a sport. Don’t start something you know you aren’t going to finish. I want a Black Belt in Katsugo. That takes years and years of practice and training. Committment. Falls, getting up, doing it again. Getting hit again. Getting up again. I had done that raising my kids. I knew what it meant. I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to something like that again. So. I took some time to deal with the voices in my head. When I commit to something, I go all in. It’s just the way I am wired.
Imagine if you will, a child standing in front of you, head tilted back and the child saying, “Again, really. Noooooooooooooidooontttwannnnnaaaaa”. And slumping off to their room filled with pink polka dots and stuffed animals. At 48. I know. A sight to behold let me tell ya..(rolling my eyes…at myself no less)
I like to call the negative nelly voices in my head The Shitty Committee. The ones that tell you why a thing can’t be done, rathan than why a thing can be done. That committee is counter-productive to envisioning a future of prosperity and abundance and happiness and strength and courage. It’s counter-productive to getting the body I want and standing in complete confidence that if anyone ever tries to hurt me again – I will step up and fuck them up. I want to continue to be nice. I also want to make certain that I am confident I can handle myself.
I had an endless litany of excuses why I should not continue with the Dojo. Work towards a goal that has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember. The whining has been incessant and disgusting. “WTF is the actual problem?” I asked myself. The response: “They’ll hate me again”.
“Hate you for what?” I inquired.
“I’ll be successful again.”
“So.” I said flatly. “They’ll hate you. They hate you now. What’s the big deal?”
Fair point. Well made.
What I realized at that moment was, people don’t like successful people because most people won’t do what it takes to be successful. They won’t do the hard work it takes to achieve their dreams and goals. They don’t actually hate me, they hate themselves for their laziness. What they are is jealous. THAT, was not my problem. All I can do is be an example of what is possible.
The trouble with overnight success stories is that we don’t see the hard work, gut wrenching work, the blood, sweat and tears that is put into attaining a goal. All the general public sees is the end result. The money, the cars, the nice houses. Most of the world wants what the Bill Gates’ of the world have without doing the work that the Bill Gates’ of the world have done. Doesn’t work that way.
I watched a video on YouTube that someone had posted on Facebook from Denzel Washington stating exactly that. Ugh…I hung my head. Damn. I guess I had my confirmation. Guess I was going back in.
Now. How to get back to that internal space of focus, dedication, motivation, drive and momentum. I’m getting there. A plan is coming together, and I am working the plan.
It makes me smile when I think of my Sensei’s on Facebook. “I’m Not Normal” is one of the pages they follow. I don’t think I have ever been more proud to be Not Normal, to rebel and not do what I am told to do. I didn’t get to be an executive for the federal government by doing what I was told to do.
I’m a nerd. With an attitude. An Old Ass Nerd…
I lost my shit so that I could lose my shit, and get back to the business of living instead of the business of dying.
Dragonpeace – AKA: Shorty, C4, Sandpaper, and Wendi Lynn and MOM (only title I ever cared about!).
Menopause sucks.
A Dragon's Peace 