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Unshackling from people-pleasing and codependency

Anger? That feeling I never let myself feel for long before slapping a happy face sticker on it and sweeping it under a rug? What was it doing at work? 

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I am not my mind

My mind committed numerous sins against my body throughout adolescence and early adulthood. 

I verbally abused her. I shamed her and ridiculed her and starved her. I lectured her and patronized her and treated her with general contempt. I traded her away to avoid disappointing others just to end up disappointing myself.

I ignored her, denied her, silenced her, disassociated from her.

But my mind was wrong.

My mind was wrong.

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I’m a mom with no maternal instinct

At one point, I remember googling “help i am a mom with no maternal instinct what do i do”

I felt a lot of shame about this. I really, truly believed I wasn’t a good mom because it was so hard for me and none of it felt natural.

But I’m thinking differently now.

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My Divorce Fantasy

The problem with flight is that eventually you have to land, and when I did, I crashed right into my therapist’s office. I wasn’t hibernating anymore. I was jarred awake, grappling with the reality that my coping mechanisms of denial and repression had me in a perpetual state of survival mode and escape. I couldn’t stand to be present in my own home.

In the safety of my therapist’s office, I experimented, attempting validation and acceptance instead. I admitted aloud that at gut level, I believed my marriage was destined for divorce. That terrible truth, that secret shame, was exposed to the light of day for the first time.

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We are done “should”ing

Do I even want to be married? To have kids? To teach? What else have I been “should”ing? These roles I’ve built my entire identity around – do I actually even want them? 

Panic. 

A good woman shouldn’t ask herself these questions, I thought.

But maybe I’m done being a good woman.

My Separation Reality

In four days, my divorce fantasy becomes my separation reality. I get the keys to my own small, lovingly curated apartment. I answer only to myself. I prioritize making my own dreams a reality and bad vibes are checked at the door. I have consistent solitude to prioritize my mental, spiritual, and physical health, and I parent with patience, instilling the values and boundaries I find most important, without compromise. After separation, I never find my “other half” because I’m already whole. I don’t ask permission to have needs – they live inside me guilt-free.

My shiny, new diagnosis

Hi, my name is Bobbi. And I’m bipolar. Yikes, even typing that sentence has me feeling like I’m wearing giant clown shoes or spilling out of a bra two cup sizes too small. The diagnosis doesn’t resonate or fit, but according to the court-appointed psychiatrist and psychologist for my involuntary commitment, it’s mine. Disclaimer: I’veContinue reading “My shiny, new diagnosis”