50 Stages Of Grief

As I am a witness to the changes in the lives of those around me, and the vast changes in my own life, I can see grief being displayed in a variety of ways. Some people cry- either softly to themselves, silently in the shower, or loudly while clinging to loved ones. Some people withdraw while some people want to be surrounded by those they trust. Some people seem perfectly normal, yet their minds swirl with questions and emotions. We forget how to smile; we forget what normal feels like.

We grieve the losses in our life. It doesn’t matter what kind of loss we are experiencing, or how it came about. It doesn’t matter whether we chose to quit a job, undersell that house we love yet can’t afford, or walk away from the relationship that is no longer working. We can choose it or it can choose us. A loss is a loss and the grief we feel after is real, deep and complicated.

I am grieving many losses right now. I’m grieving relationships, people changing and leaving my life, the loss of my old self, the loss of the image I thought I had in other people’s eyes. I’m grieving the ends of eras. While my future was uncertain, there was still some sort of answer to my questions; now there are even fewer answers. I’m grieving the loss of my answers, even if they weren’t the right answers.

I become paralyzed in my grief. I cry occasionally, usually really ugly crying privately in my house. I stop doing laundry, I stop wearing my contacts, and I stop wearing jeans. I decline eating out and prefer the comfort of my Lululemon pants. I eat comfort foods, watch Friends, and drink lots of red wine. I journal and blog. I share my feelings with a few people closest to me. I repeat my mantras.

I know that it will all pass. Until then, I’m accepting the various stages and shades of my grief. I’m facing the storm, finding my way through.

WTF are you grieving?

We Have All The Answers

I’m not a mother, but there is a philosophy I like- it’s called Resources for Infant Education, or RIE. This school of thought attracted me because of its core values. One of them is complete trust in the child, starting from infancy, that they are explorers and initiators in their own learning and they learn what they are ready for. Because of this trust, parents are to only provide enough help so that the child can enjoy mastering their own actions. As it relates to my development as an adult, I see friends and family providing that support but ideally allowing us to find our own way, make our own mistakes, and learn to trust our selves.

I believe that inherently we know what is best for ourselves. We know what we should and should not eat, how much we should sleep, and if certain behavior is risky or not. We know when we aren’t feeling well and we can recognize when we have made mistakes. We know what college will be our best fit and we find jobs that we hope will give us fulfillment. We know what hobbies we enjoy and we know which people to stay away from. We know so much about our own needs and wants if we are allowed the space to explore and discover on our own.

I enjoy thinking about words, as you know, and question whether they are really the best fit for the stories we tell ourselves. A word I have been mulling over lately is stubborn. Stubborn can have a few meanings: unreasonably obstinate, fixed or set in purpose, resolute, unyielding, difficult to manage or suppress. Truthfully, most of these are OK to me! I think it’s a good thing to be set in a purpose or opinion. We are allowed to feel all that we feel. We are allowed to have our own opinions, and we can be sure in our understanding of what is best for us.

I like the word resolute. I think about determination and perseverance when I hear this word. I envision someone looking straight off into the horizon, standing in the sun. I see a person navigating the twists and turns of life with flexibility, yet still keeping an eye on their end goal.

If we are given the space and time to trust ourselves, we can find our own answers. With some introspection and reflection, we can listen and look inwards. We have the answers; we hear them all the time. We have a gut that speaks to us. We can believe in it. We don’t need someone else to tell us what to do. We can be confident in our needs and wants. We do in fact know what is best for our selves.

WTF is stopping you from trusting yourself?

Comments Welcome!

I started my blog for me. I wanted to tell my story in a more permanent way, but never really had intentions of sharing it beyond a few close friends. However, it became apparent that sharing it was indeed the next step of my story. Since sharing it, I have received phone calls, emails and texts from friends and family either lending support or divulging their own stories. I have felt so honored to be trusted with these sentiments.

I feel that the next step in my blog is to create a space for readers to share their thoughts and feelings about particular posts. I ask myself many questions throughout this blog, and I try to leave the post with a question for you to ponder. My hope is that through my own thinking and processing, I can connect with the feelings of others and quietly remind them they are not alone. Sometimes knowing there is another person experiencing similar feelings is very validating, or so I have found.

If you wish to contribute to my story through your comments, I only ask that you write with compassion. We are all fighting our own fight. I hope that we can all connect with each other more and feel encouraged and loved through our own vulnerability. Let’s be brave together.

WTF do you want to share?

Skip The Small Talk

I’ve done some great work with my therapist during these past few weeks. I’m fortunate to have her and her insight. She’s validated my thoughts, questioned some of my beliefs, and given me renewed confidence in my sense of self. She hasn’t told me anything I didn’t already know, and that’s extremely encouraging. One of the topics we have spent significant time on is emotional intelligence.

I’ve always been a very emotional person; I have always self-identified as a crier which I have no shame about. :) But what I’ve learned is that my emotional side is not just about how I react to things, but how I react to others and how I connect with them. Looking back, I can see that my need for connection has driven the kinds of relationships I have had with friends and family. I don’t have a large number of friends, but those friendships I do have are extremely deep. I have a huge family, but really only talk and connect with a few. I lose touch with people who I do not find that ability to connect with, and I can get frustrated trying to converse on a deeper level with people who are not as emotionally aware.  These are recent understandings, but they are not new behaviors on my part.

Connecting with other people requires a really big scary step- the willingness to be vulnerable. That can be freaking scary as hell. Wearing your heart on your sleeve can be dangerous; people can take advantage of it and you can end up hurt. Do this too many times and pretty soon we are shutting off the most unique and beautiful part of ourselves.

“We stagger through our romantic, professional and social worlds with the goal merely of not crashing, never considering we might soar."

            -http://ideas.ted.com/how-to-turn-small-talk-into-smart-conversation/

Perhaps we don’t allow ourselves to connect with someone because we don’t think we deserve it. We are afraid of feeling inferior to someone that we are closely connected with. We think that perhaps by keeping some distance from others, we can preserve our own feelings and can “get out” more easily. Vulnerability and fear play a role in all of these scenarios, and rightfully so. Who isn’t afraid of being totally crushed?!

But that Ted quote references soaring. Soaring! What a concept. Not just living, not just existing, not just getting by. But taking a risk could result in the most amazing, fulfilling and connected life we could ever imagine. We can get there by tapping into our emotional intelligence. By recognizing and identifying our own emotions, we are better able to grasp others’. We can converse about our thoughts and feelings, and we can dive deeper. We can skip the small talk and show each other our souls. THAT sounds pretty amazing to me.

WTF is possibly better than sharing your soul?

Straight Into The Storm

When I was in Cleveland earlier this month, I did something I’ve never done before. I walked into a bar by myself, ordered a drink, and struck up a conversation with the guy next to me. My only goal was to be vulnerable, to sit somewhere by myself and try to connect with a stranger. Thankfully, the guy didn’t shoot me down and I ended up chatting with him and his friends, joining their bowling night, and had a great time. I walked away that night with a renewed sense of community and a great vibe for Cleveland. When you put yourself out there, there is no telling whom you might connect with.

Over the course of the night and the various conversations, we shared some stories about our lives, relationships and families. They were a pretty open and warm group and I instantly felt comfortable. One of the guys, Nick, shared a saying that resonated with me at this point in time:

            The cows walk right into the storm.

Whatever troubles we have, adversities we are facing, there is no other way to face them than head on. In order to truly confront them, deal with our strong emotions, and come out the other side a stronger individual, we must charge head on into the storm. We can try to ignore what we feel or mask it with something else. We can try to escape the storm but then we will simply be running from it. We will be operating from a place of fear rather than a place of strength and empowerment.

We must walk right into the storm. There is no other way.

WTF are you shying away from?

Giving Thanks

Today as we gorge ourselves on amazing food, cheer for (or against, in my case) the Eagles and reconnect with family and friends we will be reminded of all the wonderful things in our lives. We will express gratitude towards our health, the loved ones surrounding us, and perhaps our fruitful careers. It’s easy to be thankful for all the positive parts of our lives; they bring us joy and fulfillment and make the bad parts feel not so bad. However, I am learning that it’s important to be grateful for the messy, ugly and painful parts of life too. It is in these moments that we are pushed to grow and evolve, and that is really something to be thankful for.

Here is what I am grateful for this Thanksgiving:

The deeply challenging and productive work I have been doing in therapy- my sense of self has never been stronger.

The courage to have conversations that really matter and the better understanding of the implications of such conversations- this is a recent discovery that I think my friend Lizzy would be very proud to hear. :)

My friends and family who have continued to accept me as I am.

The possibility of change and the fear and excitement that accompanies it.

The acceptance that not all things go according to our plans.

Small surprises and the joy they bring, even if fleeting.

My physical reaction to anxiety- while painful, it reminds me that I am here and present and living through my growth. On the contrary, when I am feeling great I know that I am doing something right.

My blog for being my heart on display- I am so grateful for the connections and conversations that have started from this space. I am so honored to have touched some of you with my story.

Lastly, I am grateful for this journey- in troubled times we learn how much we know, how deeply we care and how much strength we possess.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours <3

WTF are you thankful for?

The Only Way Out Is Through

When I was in high school, I used to have what I would call “stress attacks.” My heart would skip beats and begin to race and I would have chest pain. It happened frequently- on the ice, walking around my home, and sometimes while driving. At 16 years old my mom took me to the cardiologist, and he noted I was one of his youngest patients. Stress tests, heart monitors, and EKGs showed nothing, and I was told it was stress related. Eventually my career as a national level figure skater ended, as did the majority of my stress attacks.

Now, my anxiety has returned yet it’s not the same. My body feels foreign to me; my legs and arms are heavy, my hands and feet are cold, there’s a weight on my chest, and my vision feels extra HD. I feel so much and so little at the same time. At the blink of an eye I can feel a wave of pain and heaviness pass over me, and then a moment later I feel light again. Through this entire unknown, my brain is quiet. It’s like all of my thoughts are swallowed up and pushed down into my frame and I carry it as weight. I carry it on to the ice, into my car, and up the hills of Manayunk.

There is no moral to this post; there is no pretty ending. Today I just want to share where I am. I want to reach out to anyone else who has anxiety and tell them that I understand. I’m here with you in this period of instability. I feel for you, and I feel with you too.

The only way out is through.

WTF can I do to feel better again?

I'm Looking For The Answer

My friend called me late the other night saying this:

“I don’t know what to do. I’m looking for the answer.”

Oh honey, I can’t give it to you. You need to listen to yourself.  Your answer is in your gut, I told her. It’s that little voice that you hear first thing in the morning, or the last thing you hear at night. It’s that feeling you get, deep down without realizing it’s there. It’s not in your head or your heart; it’s what you feel in your soul. You will find your answer there, if you listen.

I reminded her of this sad fact of adulthood- sometimes we need to decide between what is right and what is easy. I hope she chooses what is right, for the easy choice will give her no satisfaction or relief. It will not take the weight off her shoulders; it will not make her happy. Her answer will not come from those around her; it will only come when she connects with herself.

My sweet friend was concerned about being selfish. She doesn’t want to make others mad, she doesn’t want to lose those important to her. My heart aches for her as she struggles, but I know that at the end of this struggle there is a magical moment where she learns that she is in control of her life. She learns that she can make decisions for herself. She learns that *this* moment right here is so important as she grows into the woman that she was meant to be.

I hope she makes the right decision, and not the easy one. I hope she listens to her gut. I hope she connects with herself and puts her own self-care first. I hope she knows I will love her and support her NO. MATTER. WHAT.

I hope too, that I listen to my own advice.

WTF is so hard about making the right decision? 

Patience Is A Virtue

I find myself evaluating words lately.  The stories we tell and the words we use in them are instrumental in the way we think about ourselves.  I’m striving to pick the best words. Today’s word is patience: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.  For me, the most noteworthy part is “without getting angry or upset.” Without that piece, patience could be seen as, “Sure, I’ll wait until I can’t handle it anymore.” Cue my last word, selfish.

So what does patience look like? It looks like acknowledgement. It looks like a friend sitting next to you with a hand on your shoulder, silently being there to support.  It sounds like someone saying, “I hear you, I understand, take your time, I’m here with you.” Patience doesn’t come with a deadline or an exasperated comment. Patience doesn’t come with a plan to fix. Truthfully, it sounds f*cking difficult to do. But offering true patience might be the greatest gift we can give to someone in pain, and to ourselves.

I’m trying to practice patience as I continue to care for myself. I find the quiet moments in the day are the best- crawling into a blanket with a cup of coffee and a journal instantly ease me. I am trying to be at peace with my own process. I am accepting my own suffering. There is no plan, there is no designated next step. There is no way to speed along the process, and there is no need for someone else to step in and try to make it all go away. It wouldn’t be right or fair. This journey is mine.

WTF can you do to be more patient with others?

Reframing Selfish

I don’t fly super often, but enough times a year that I barely pay attention to the safety procedures anymore before each flight (sorry Mom). I’ll glance up from time to time and count how many seats before my closest exit, but that’s pretty much it. The rest I have memorized, including this important reminder:

            Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

How else are you supposed to help others when you’re passed out on the floor? Shouldn’t we take this same stance while not cruising at a high altitude? Doesn’t our well being come first? I ask this because lately I’ve heard myself say the word selfish a lot- “Am I being selfish? Is that a selfish thing to say?” Hoping that perhaps by asking, I can rid myself of the potential guilt from placing my mask on first.

Selfish isn’t a pretty word. It means that we are caring for our self without regard for others. But mindfully caring for ourselves and focusing on our own needs is simply demonstrating self-care. It’s reflective, healthy and important work. It’s staying intimately connected to what feels good and right in our bodies and minds, and following through. This has been the most powerful thing for me lately- finding something that feels good, and then DOING IT! Right now it’s running (I will admit, it’s still a little love/hate).

It’s the difference between “I’m working on myself” and “I need you to work on me.” It’s the difference between finding joy in an activity versus relying on the actions of others to make you happy. As long as we keep a healthy focus on ourselves while being compassionate towards others, we can safely replace the word selfish with self-care. And really, who wouldn’t want us to have a healthy relationship with ourselves? Anyone who says otherwise, is probably being selfish.

WTF is wrong with some self-care? I’m going to answer this time- Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

We're Only As Sick As Our Secrets

The other day I shared a photo on Instagram of a seemingly “basic” shot- cute sneakers, fall leaves, and a nice hot vanilla latte. My message was different though, yet it was simple- “I need help.”

I decided to be public about my need to reach out for therapy. Having been a Psychology major in school, I believed in therapy and had always wanted to go. But more importantly, I felt that I needed to share this information. I needed to tell others I wasn’t ok to help me accept this. I needed to shine light onto my darkness. I needed to not keep a secret.

            We’re only as sick as our secrets.

The secrets we keep, the stories we tell ourselves, they eat us up. They take up space in our hearts and minds and block us from moving forward. They hurt our souls and bring us guilt and shame. They make us feel broken, unworthy, and unlovable. We can hide them away inside us and let them fester and grow and build up until we feel like we’re choking on ourselves, or we can BREAK THEM FREE. We can shine a light on them, we can talk about them, and we can stare our fears and secrets right in the face. But we must decide to do that. We must be ready to try. We must be vulnerable, and a little scared too.

And we must be ready to let them go. Because ultimately, we are worthy of a life filled with light.

WTF is your secret?

How did I get here?

I used to do a lot of driving before moving to Philadelphia. I would take the same routes each day, pick the same tollbooths (I hate EZPass!), and mindlessly move through the habits of driving my car.  There were many times I arrived at my destination having NO memory of getting there. Did I cut someone off today? Run a red light?! I didn’t know the details but I assumed the majority of my driving decisions were correct.

Now I feel like I’m in a similar position personally.  I’ve reached this junction yet have no idea how I got here. Did I make the correct decisions to arrive safely? Was I conscious of the weight of all my decisions? Did I really weigh out my options? Is this whole crisis me just slamming on my brakes, looking around and saying,

“How the HELL did I get here?!”

I’m learning that we really are constantly evolving, growing, and discovering ourselves. Perhaps that’s obvious to some, but there was a part of me that thought once I reach a certain age, I’d at least have myself figured out. I feel like I’ve grown the most since the age of 25; this is scary yet wildly exciting to me. The opportunities and experiences that lie ahead are intoxicating, yet the idea that I could, and probably will, change drastically yet again makes me feel uneasy. The idea of navigating my future feels extra tricky knowing that future Adrienne could be very different than the current version.

How do we make decisions for our future when we don’t know that person yet? Do we have faith that our core values will carry us through? How do we stay present and not get lost in the journey?

WTF is the best way home?

Self-doubt

Doubting oneself might be the worst form of self-punishment.  It throws even the most centered, logical person into a space of turmoil and pain. Everything instantly becomes a question and an answer; nothing can solve the riddle.  It’s like quicksand- the more you struggle and search, the quicker it pulls you down.

I used to trust my gut. I used to think I knew myself and my wants, needs, dreams, and fears. What I thought was fact now seems like wild fiction. Things that were set now seem unstable. I feel as though suddenly the massive ship I was traveling on just changed to an inflatable raft, desperately trying to stay afloat in the midst of a gusty storm. I’m drowning in my desperation.

There’s a battle between my head, my heart and my gut. I’m trying to breathe deeply and search inward for clarity. I am trying to find comfort in silence and space. I overheard in my yoga class someone say, “You can breathe into your heart, but you cannot breathe into your mind.”

How in the world is your brain supposed to find relief?

WTF happened??

If God laughs at our plans, should we even bother?

Today is a day filled with questions. I have no new insight, no answers, and no sense of peace. I’ve also stopped sleeping and eating like a normal person. I’m overwhelmed with the thoughts swirling in my brain.

My struggle is in the future- planning for it, preparing and anticipating the unforeseen challenges, and remaining grounded in my own dreams as I try to be flexible to whatever comes. How do we plan for the future, when so little is guaranteed? It begs the question of whether we should even plan. Being the daughter of two Virgos, I know this answer- Yes, I should plan.

If we don’t plan, how do we ensure that we are living purposeful, connected lives? How do we make sure we don’t just waste our time on Earth? But if we stick too rigidly to our plan, will we miss new opportunities? Will our blinders block out a better path? How do we strike a balance?

I wonder about timing too. If something is wrongly timed, do we deviate from our plan? Is this spontaneous or reckless? Or are we just recognizing that the plan needs to be adjusted?

I don’t know what is next for me. But I do know that *this* right now, this isn’t all that’s in store for me. I know I need to feel fulfilled by my relationships, career, dreams, and life. Otherwise, why are we here? Just to merely exist and take up air? NO WAY. I think and hope and pray and wish that my story is bigger than that.

One of my favorite new quotes:

“Listen- are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?”

-Mary Oliver, once again :)

WTF? W.T.F.