The July Awakening - Depths of Sorrow and Confusion

 "You need to leave him" they say at the picnic table. I was an anxious wreck, skinny as hell because anxiety + crohns play that well together. And had lost my "sparkle" and life force. My sisters and sis-in-law were there, as it seemed to me, to rally together to get me out of a tough situation. It seemed obvious to them that the situation was my marriage, because we had a rough road over the years, and because they respect my abilities highly. They didn't question my own projected perspectives from unhealthy patterns that weren't serving me, they saw them as accurate and truth. I do not blame them. My husband made decisions that I didn't like over the years, I sought their expertise on the situation, and then would work on changing him accordingly. It took a lot of energy to change him, to point out his flaws, to live in past/future in order to keep him inside some kind of rails... because I still had my own life to live. But that seemed secondary. My life isn't to live, my purpose is to change him into the man that fits my subconscious conditioning so that my programs can run more smoothly without question or upheaval. Well, upheaval they were in. The weird thing too, was that he was doing really well for himself. In January he was doing one of his 30 day challenges, and he was really enjoying it and loving his personal development that was happening. But I had such a deep belief that he was a poop on a log and that I was fixated on that, that even though he was thriving in his own way, I was suffering even more. And he had me participating in the 30 day challenge, which was for some reason very excruciating for me. I saw him as a hypocrite during his coaching calls - which he was very good at coaching btw. My ego was having a fucking hay-day proving things to be wrong and thriving in keeping me out of the present moment reality and connection.

"He needs to get a real job". This literally did not compute with me during our separation. My dad had to sit down, and write down the checklist of what a "real job" was for him to fulfill. Full time, benefits. That was the list. He wrote it down. I was not understanding why that was a must-have for him to come back to our marriage. I was trying to explain that his job was ok actually, but family did not compute with this. They truly saw my issues stemming from his lack of a traditional "secure" job stability. I needed job stability in my husband. I can't be the bread winner, and can't handle the stress of that with Crohns and health conditions. My conditioning was following this, and was a huge part of my unhealed anxiety, but at the same time I believed he was doing what he truly wanted to do for a job, and I loved that he wanted to follow his passion, and that that would bring him true happiness - which filled me up when I was more connected. But they were adamant that it needed to be a full time job with benefits. I did not know myself, deeply, and would see their logic and agree with my head but not with my heart. They know better than you, just go with it and endure the confusion until something makes sense down the road.

"He isn't nice to you and you have buoyed him up and up, and he has left you with nothing". In my victimhood projections, this was confirming to hear. But was it true? As Byron Katie would ask (whom I have dove into her work just in the last couple weeks moreso), is that really true? No. But at the time, I thought they must know better than me. I'm just a confused girl who doesn't know herself, and must be having mental illness and lack the capacity to make my own big decisions. And frankly, straying from the conditions of my upbringing was shaking me to my core, unbeknownst to me at the time. My conditions of codependence were getting ripped apart because of Cody's way of living his own life, and not tending to my every need or being something he wasn't. Some call it selfish, but to me it was a portal into ripping my soul open to find myself and loving more than I ever thought was possible.

"You are a shell of a person right now, and he's done this to you, he's made you into this shell because he isn't filling you up." Another great one for my ego, terrible for my soul, and again mass confusion. I must have mental illness and not be able to deal with life as I should. I know not enough within myself, and need to have external influences tell me what is best for my life and how to find my happiness.

"You sit with God" as mom puts some of her garments by my bedside, as I was sitting on the bed as a shell of a person in their basement. I was a shell, and she found the opportunity to put the fear of God in me. She hates that I wear short shorts, and has a strong God-fearing testimony that garment wearing is how we are with God. She has her own experiences, all projections I believe, but I do not know her experience. I hear her, I am tired, and lost, and I put them on and pray unceasingly. God are you up there? Are you in the room? Are you over by the couch? I mean, where are you? Why am I so confused and why aren't you confirming your presence? Maybe I need to focus on going back to the temple to feel your presence... I must be doing so many things wrong to be in such a pit. I do not have purpose or value. I am lost, and in the dark, my innocent sparkle has left me and you have left me... I believed I was living inside of a hell from which there was no escape, no up or down, no clarity or peace, just confusion, zero confidence in self or in anything, and deeply alone.

When, in reality, I drop the past/future think and drop into the here and now. How much shame and guilt I drop, the weight of that... It is dropped, and I am expanded into grace. Full grace, I find heaven on earth. I am held by something so much bigger than myself. I do not breathe my own breath, something else does that. Something else, so much bigger and beautiful is cultivating my existence, is holding me. It's grace, it's the universe, it's God. It's my Heavenly Father. My Heavenly father's presence exists right now. With me, here, now. Drop the stories. I was living inside of stories. Inside of dreams. And when I drop the stories, I drop the dream, I wake up and I am here, I find my clarity.

I believe that stories from religion have caused me mental illness for many years. An ever-present anxiety has plagued my mind for... ever since I can remember. I was put on anti-anxiety meds Senior year of high school. Put into therapy, which wasn't helpful because I had no clue who I was or how to talk about myself back then. It has taken me many many years, and huge life upheavals and interruptions, to get split apart enough to see that the stories we run by are complete and utter bull shit. My heaven is in the present moment, truly connecting to my core of my being. With no external influence or rules, no guideline or "how to get more worth" scripts running in my mind.