LET GO OF TOXIC PEOPLE

For several decades, I've had a fragile and contentious relationship with someone close, faults assigned equally.  At some point, I decided it was time to offer up the olive branch.  I pulled up my big girl panties and took responsibility for my part in our differences.  Although I heard no reciprocal words of apology, I let it go and moved forward with renewed hope the fracture was permanently sealed.

The peace lasted for about two years.  My hopes diminished when I found out I was covertly maligned everywhere, including on social media.  I received hateful messages from people who believed the lies, including some I considered friends.  The betrayal by someone I should be able to trust and lean on was devastating, and anger rose ... but not at the perpetrator ... at myself.  You see, this wasn't the first time being hoodwinked.  This last transgression was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.  The last remnants of trust evaporated from my heart, and I said to myself, "NO MORE."

It's sad to let go of someone that should be an integral part of my life, but I finally realized that some things just can't be fixed, and continuing attempts to rekindle such a brittle relationship would invariably reap the same results.  It reminds me of the saying, Fool Me Once - Shame on You, Fool Me Twice - Shame on Me.  We should always give people a second chance, and possibly a third, but then it's time to surrender.  If our side of the street is clean, we shouldn't have to cross over to their side, time and time again, just to get run over. 

My priest once told me there are people that are so toxic they can inflict emotional as well as spiritual damage which will eventually draw us away from God.  He assured me it was okay to protect myself and close the door as long as it was without malice or thoughts of retribution ... and most importantly, done with forgiveness in my heart. 

Something we should always remember:

Toxic people project their own character

defects onto their victims.

They do this by accusing the victim 

of the exact actions they themselves

do but deny.

~Shannon Thomas

A LIGHT IN SOMEONE'S LIFE

 

Today marks the sixth anniversary of my father's death. I miss him terribly, as I do my mom. 

 

My husband and I were living in Southern California, ten minutes from the beach when they moved in with us in 2012. One of their favorite things to do was drive through the Dairy Queen for milkshakes, then go there and watch people surf and children play in the sand. It was a cherished time for two people still in love after being married 62 years.

Marie Wikle once said, "Be a light in someone's life today, no matter how small - you'll still light up their world!" That's what my dad did as he grieved the loss of my mom in 2014.

Her passing was a sad time for all of us but more so for him...she was the love of his life. A few days after she passed, he told me he was going to the beach. Knowing he wanted some private time to grieve, I didn't go with him. I began to worry a little two hours later, so I called his cell. He answered with such a sound of joy in his voice it took me by surprise. I asked him if he was okay, and he said, "I'm doing great, just listen." The sound I heard was the voices of happy children.

You see, my mom loved collecting beanie babies and had over 700, carefully tucked away in plastic bins. He had taken one of the bins to the beach, handing beanie babies out to children. He first got permission from their parents and some of them even offered to pay, but my dad said seeing the smiles of the little ones was payment enough. 

Sharing my mom's treasures gave my dad a great deal of comfort. When he arrived back home, I could see it on his face. My mom's light would not continue just in our lives but in others as well. So when my dad passed two years after my mom, my husband and I knew he would want us to do something special to honor him, and God provided us the opportunity.  

We were out and about one evening and observed a man pushing his adult daughter in a regular wheelchair. We asked them if a motorized chair would help, and both of them said, "it sure would." We told them my dad had passed, leaving behind a practically new power chair. We knew he would want us to give it to someone that needed one. The next day, the father came over to our house and took the chair, plus the portable ramp that went with it. Just like the parents at the beach, he asked if he could pay us something, and we gave my dad's reply, "Your smile is payment enough."  

We still grieve my parents, but their light shines on which brings comfort through our tears. Leo Buscaglia said it best, "I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought, and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love."

Wheelchair racing💓

Dad and Mom at the Beach💓

 

LENTEN FOOD FOR THOUGHT

 As a writer, life experiences sometimes inspire ideas for a blog post or book, but I never expected a menial household chore to be one of them. 

You see, I had an attack of domesticity the other day and decided to clean out my refrigerator.  I realized the contents could very easily be used to get rid of a spouse, backstabbing friend, noisy neighbor ... well, the possibilities are endless, and their passing would more than likely be determined an "accidental poisoning". 

I'm embarrassed to say I had cottage cheese that expired three months ago, hidden behind a plastic container filled with something that morphed into a green slimy substance, strategically hidden by all newly purchased grocery items.  In fact, there were several hidden plastic containers and some of the slime was even black. Did you know jelly can mold? I guess 2020 wasn't a good year for grapes. Of course, let's not forget salad dressing, apple sauce, a jar of maraschino cherries (I don't even recall buying them), and of course the now unidentifiable veggies in plastic bags.

Not only did this gag-inducing chore give me ideas for a future serial killer book, but it also reminded me to be more diligent in checking expiration dates and throwing the old stuff out. It's bad enough to be faced with slime and mold, but the smell.....that alone could do someone in.

And ... here it comes ... it gave me food for thought:  Just like expired items in the fridge, unresolved anger or hurt will fester and eventually poison your soul if you don't throw it out through forgiveness.

Lent is right around the corner ... let's clean!  

Rehashing the Past

We all make mistakes.  No one is exempt.  We are human after all.  

 

Turning back the hands of time to reverse our words or actions is impossible. All we can do is ask for forgiveness and move forward, resolving to do better. That’s all well and good; however, how many times do we receive forgiveness from God and others yet still wallow in guilt by rehashing the transgressions in our minds, over and over again? Why is it so easy to give forgiveness than to accept it? 

Being an overachiever in the mistake department, I struggled with accepting forgiveness for many years. Why? Because I didn't deserve it. No matter how hard I tried to move on, I continued to browbeat myself relentlessly. 

I was a raging alcoholic.  I evicted God from my life.  I hurt everyone I loved and lost the respect of family, friends, and co-workers.  I was consumed in shame and guilt knowing how I devalued myself with inappropriate behavior.  The coup de grâce was aborting two precious babies ... a definite unpardonable sin.

Through rehab, an after-abortion healing program, and a renewed relationship with God, my faith grew leaps and bounds, relationships improved and I could finally look in the mirror without disgust and loathing.

Whenever you are tempted to dwell on past transgressions, you might try this little mind game ... it worked for me. Close your eyes and picture Satan with a DVD of your failings. He’s cackling and sneering while continually hitting the replay button … a malicious attempt to imprison you in guilt and remorse, separating you from loved ones and distancing yourself from God. Focus on that image and say out loud, “You’re playing a blank disk, Satan ... God has already hit the delete button.”

Then I declared my sin to you; my guilt I did not hide.

I said, “I confess my transgression to the LORD,” and you

took away the guilt of my sin.

(Psalm 32:5)

The Perils of Perfectionism

   

     A while ago I had some work of mine reviewed.   I suddenly had flashbacks of when I was in the workforce facing the dreaded "annual performance evaluation."  It sent chills vibrating down my spine. The fear victims experience in my serial killer series pales in comparison to the terror I felt sitting down in my manager's office as he shut the door.

    I always fared extremely well in those evaluations and should have been ecstatic. BUT although 99% of the feedback was positive I would invariably zero in on the 1%, beating myself up over it. Why? Because my name is Patti, and I'm a perfectionist.

    Focusing on the1% stripped away every ounce of joy I had in my accomplishments. The joy morphed into fear and doubt. Fortunately, later on in life, I had a supervisor who cared enough to knock me off that pedestal of perfectionism by pointing out that 1% did not represent failure, but an opportunity for growth.  

    The same curse of perfectionism attacks me spiritually. When doing my daily examination of conscience, I beat myself up because once more I have sins to confess.  Growing anger and disappointment tempts me to throw my hands up and accept the fact I'm a total loser. 

    I told my priest of my issues with perfectionism during one of my trips to the confessional.  He just smiled and reminded me of Ecclesiastes 7:20, "yet there is no one on earth so just as to do good and never sin."  He added that God does not want us to wallow in guilt or disappointment, but learn from our mistakes, strive to do better, and move forward in faith.   

    Pastor Rick Warren also has wise words on the topic:  "If you struggle with perfectionism, then ask God to help you deeply understand that he loves you unconditionally," which brings me to this wonderful quote:

Challenges and How NOT to Handle Them

 (Note:  This blog has been inactive since around 2019.  Either I lost inspiration or had a record-breaking case of writer's block.  Yesterday, after having a long chat with God, the Holy Spirit nudged me to get back in the saddle.  Evidently, I have more to say.  What though, I don't know.  Your guess is as good as mine!)

My husband, uncle (who has lived with us since 2012), and I relocated to Florida a year and a half ago to the lovely little town of Defuniak Springs.  The move was a positive change.  We loved our new surroundings, quieter lifestyle, and being close to cousins we have not had the luxury of living near before.  Life was good, then WHAM! 

    ➤On Christmas Eve Uncle Ray passed away at the age of 88.  He had taken a fall that was caused by cancer that had spread to his bones. He had been on heavy pain medication for other ailments and it masked the symptoms until it weakened him to the point of collapse. The hospital in our little town has limited diagnostic and treatment capabilities so they transported him to one 30 miles away.  Along with the commute, a lot transpired during the three weeks he was there that caused a great deal of dismay. It will suffice to say I wasn't pleased with the care he was receiving and made darn sure everyone knew. (Resulting in a letter of apology from the CEO of the hospital - a little victory).  A week before his death he was transferred to a hospice facility near our home.  That provided the opportunity to spend more time with him even though he was in and out of consciousness.  No matter how sick he was and knowing he was at the end of his life, the loss was excruciating.   

    ➤A week and a half later, my husband had a massive heart attack and I almost lost him.  He had to have a quadruple bypass due to 90% blockage. He was first sent to our little hospital, then transported to the one where my uncle was (GASP!),  but thankfully after having a heart catheterization, transported to one that specialized in cardiac surgery - 40 miles away - another long commute. 

    ➤As a member of the Silent No More Awareness Campaign, I had made reservations to attend the March for Life in Washington, D.C., scheduled for the end of January where I was going to join my Silent No More sisters and brothers in sharing testimonies on the steps of the Supreme Court. I also had tickets to two formal pro-life dinners, one in which Tim Tebow was speaking.  After my husband's heart attack and subsequent surgery, I was going to cancel the trip but he insisted I go since he was going to be well taken care of at inpatient cardiac rehab.  That all came to a screeching halt when two days before the trip, I came down with COVID. Not only did I miss the trip, but was quarantined - unable to visit my husband.  My COVID symptoms were mild, but at around 2 a.m. mid-quarantine, I woke up gasping for breath and having severe chest pains. Fearing I was facing the same fate as my husband, I called  911 and was transported to the emergency room of our little hospital.  Praise God it wasn't a heart attack.  I was diagnosed with pulmonary edema. I was given medication and sent home with instructions to rest and get a check-up with a cardiologist. 

Now, my friends and family consider me a strong person with a great deal of faith.  I hate to burst that bubble, folks - I might have looked in control but I was a mammoth mass of grief, worry, anxiety, and anger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am also embarrassed to say being alone in my house at night scared me to death.  I had my precious puppy, Maggie Mae, but that didn't alleviate the fear I had at every little noise.  Even the unloaded 9mm on my nightstand that would hopefully scare away a prospective intruder didn't provide a sense of security. (Thank goodness it wasn't loaded.  With the way things were going I probably would have shot myself in the foot or something).  I barely slept. 

Instead of turning towards God, I turned away because I felt he abandoned me (I'll show Him).  Instead of leaning on my family, friends, and church community, I allowed pride to get in the way.  All of them offered assistance but I didn't want to show any vulnerability.  (I am woman - hear me roar).  

As Forest Gump said, "Stupid is as stupid does."  I had made great strides in my personal growth and faith journey since what I call my "dark days," decades ago.  I thought I had this thing called life all figured out.  Through former challenges and lessons learned on dealing with them, I should have been prepared for what had happened.  But noooooo - those lessons were forgotten and I reverted back to a whining, self-pitying mess in one more self-imposed isolation.  I was on the verge of throwing in the towel once more - to the point of ending 24 years of sobriety along with my growing relationship with God.

Satan had been patiently waiting for a moment of weakness and he got what he was looking for ... but his victory was short-lived.  God heard and answered the prayers of my family, friends, and parish for not only the healing of my husband but for my strength and comfort (they must have also mentioned my sanity). He answered by slapping me upside the head by speaking to me through my AA sponsor and dear friend, Susan, who has always been lovingly but brutally honest with me. I should have known He would do that...He had done it before, using her to pull me back from the abyss more times than I would care to admit.

God provides enlightenment through challenges. I learned that leaning on those who offer support is not a sign of weakness but a gift from God ... a gift that should be humbly and gratefully received and cherished; that self-pity is counter-productive and isolating and stuffing fear, grief, anger, etc., increases stress to the point of affecting health with disastrous consequences.  

This whole situation reminded me of this quote:  

And might I add that He also puts the right people in our life at the right time. 😘

Uncle Ray - 12/10/33 to 12/24/2021

Michael on the road to recovery