In the realm of the P, a vast domain unfurled, With pennies, partnerships, and purpose twirled. Progress and placement, hand in hand, they stand, Guiding us forward across the land.
Pennies, humble tokens, stories they hold, Of fortunes sought and treasures bold. Partnerships forged in trust’s sacred flame, Building bridges strong, a noble aim.
Progress, the pulse of our relentless quest, Leading us onward, to heights we invest. Placement of dreams in the vast expanse, Where aspirations dance, taking a chance.
Purpose, the compass in life’s wild ride, Guiding us steadfast, side by side. Passionate souls, with hearts ablaze, In pursuit of dreams, through winding ways.
Procrastination, the enemy within, Stifling progress with its silent din. People and places, in the journey we tread, Each moment cherished, each memory spread.
Persnickety souls, with standards high, Chasing perfection as time flies by. Persistent in their quest for more, They rise above, on wisdom’s shore.
Polite interactions, with grace they shine, In every encounter, a gesture divine. Personable and persuasive, they sway, With words that lead, in every way.
Picturesque landscapes, in colors arrayed, Nature’s canvas, where dreams are made. Playful moments, with laughter’s song, In harmony, where hearts belong.
Productive efforts, in labor’s toil, Seeding success from the fertile soil. Particular about their craft and care, They sculpt their destiny with flair.
Perky spirits, in the morning light, Greeting each day, with joy so bright. And as we journey through this mortal span, Let’s aim for heights, as only we can.
For in unity and progress, we find our might, In this symphony of life, let’s make it right. With every virtue in our arsenal, We’ll rise above, to the phenomenal.
As I embark on this new week, I embrace the mantra of “New Week – New You,” recognizing it as an opportunity to cultivate the art of being positive in every aspect of my life.
First and foremost, I acknowledge that feeling stuck is a temporary state, not a permanent condition. I understand that I have the power within myself to change my circumstances and shape my reality. I embrace the belief that I am capable of overcoming any obstacles that stand in my way. I am bossing up.
To change the flow of my thinking, I start by reframing my perspective. I focus on gratitude and positivity, seeking out the silver linings in every situation. I cultivate a growth mindset, viewing challenges as opportunities for learning and growth rather than insurmountable barriers.
I practice self-compassion and self-love, letting go of any shame or guilt imposed upon me by others who may also be stuck in their own journey. I recognize that I am worthy of love, respect, and happiness, and I refuse to internalize negative judgments or expectations from others.
I commit to prioritizing my own well-being and happiness above all else. This means setting boundaries, saying no when necessary, and making self-care a non-negotiable part of my routine. I deserve to prioritize myself and my needs without guilt or apology.
Goodbye to the pity parties or dwelling on past mistakes. New focus will be my energy, bossing up, taking positive action towards creating the life I desire. Celebrating my victories, no matter how small, and acknowledging my progress along the way.
This new week comes the opportunity for a new me—a chance to embrace the art of being positive, bossing up, and living authentically and unapologetically as myself. It’s time for me to do me, and do it perfectly.
Gaslighting is a silent killer of the soul. It’s a subtle form of emotional manipulation that chips away at my sense of reality and self-worth until I’m left questioning my own sanity. I know this because I’m living it.
I find myself tangled in the web of gaslighting by someone I thought I could trust. They’re charming, persuasive, and seemingly sincere. But beneath the surface lies a master manipulator, skilled in the art of deception and emotional exploitation.
It starts with little lies here and there – insignificant discrepancies that I brush off as harmless. But as time goes on, the lies grow bolder, more elaborate, until they form a tangled web of deceit that ensnares me completely.
One of the most painful aspects of gaslighting is the feeling of shame and humiliation that accompanies it. I’m made to feel ashamed for questioning the inconsistencies in their stories, for daring to challenge their version of reality. I’m made to feel small, insignificant, unworthy of trust or respect.
But perhaps the most insidious aspect of gaslighting is its ability to make me doubt myself. I find myself constantly second-guessing my own perceptions, wondering if I’m overreacting, imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing. It’s a relentless assault on my sanity, leaving me feeling lost, confused, and utterly alone.
The emotional toll of gaslighting is immense. It leaves me feeling broken, shattered, as if my very essence has been stripped away. I struggle to make sense of my own emotions, to trust my own instincts, to believe in my own worth.
And yet, despite the pain and the heartache, I can’t seem to shake off the hold they have over me. I’m trapped in a cycle of manipulation and deceit, unable to break free from the chains that bind me to them.
I need to learn to trust my own instincts, to listen to the voice within me that whispers, “You deserve better.”
I share my story not out of a desire for sympathy or pity, but as a reminder that no one deserves to be treated with such cruelty and contempt. Gaslighting thrives in silence, in secrecy, in the shadows of shame and fear. But when we shine a light on it, when we speak our truth and reclaim our power, we rob it of its power to destroy us.
I know my worth, and it’s not on the discount rack.
In every relationship, honesty and transparency are the cornerstones of trust. I’ve always believed in being open about my feelings and desires, hoping for the same in return. From the very beginning, I made it clear that being ignored was something I couldn’t tolerate. I expressed my need to feel prioritized and the pain I felt when confronted with lies.
Yet, despite my transparency, I found myself facing a harsh reality. Eight months into what I thought was a committed relationship, I discovered a significant deception. The person I trusted had concealed the fact that they were still married. When confronted, he brushed it off, claiming he “felt” divorced, and even attempted to diminish my concerns by accusing me of being judgmental and overreacting.
But it wasn’t just about the lie. It was about the countless weekends I spent alone, sidelined for family time without inclusion. It was about witnessing an altered personality emerge with each excessive drink consumed. It was about observing disrespectful behavior from his children and feeling powerless to address it. It was about discovering undisclosed interactions with his ex-wife. It was about being expected to play a role I wasn’t comfortable with in a family dynamic riddled with dysfunction.
Despite my efforts to communicate my needs, they were met with dismissal and deflection. When I needed support during sickness, I was met with indifference and the dismissive declaration, “I’m not doing drama.”
Well, enough is enough. I refuse to be gaslit any longer. I refuse to be relegated to a position of insignificance. I refuse to be someone’s afterthought.
To the man who only loves me on his terms, and to anyone who disregards my worth and dismisses my feelings, I say: I am not your #5. I am not a supporting character in your drama. I am a person deserving of honesty, respect, and consideration. And if you cannot provide that, then you are not worthy of my time or energy.
I am reclaiming my agency, my dignity, and my voice. I am walking away from toxic relationships and embracing the freedom to be authentically myself. And whoever comes into my life next will have the privilege of experiencing the wonderful person that I am, without the burden of someone else’s drama.
Goodbye You, Goodbye to the chaos, the lies, and the disrespect. Hello to a future filled with self-love, boundaries, and genuine connections.
Have you ever stumbled upon a random penny? Do you know about the concept of “pennies from heaven”? If not, let me share my story. I find pennies all the time—years’ worth of them. My Nana used to tell me that these are pennies from heaven, left by our family, loved ones, and guardian angels watching over us. Each penny is a reassuring sign that we are loved and protected. Throughout the years, I’ve discovered hundreds of these small tokens, each time feeling a profound sense of warmth and reassurance.
Fast forward to today. I work as a Health Coach, visiting people in their homes. Some are battling severe illnesses, others are grappling with deep depression, and many are dealing with a combination of both. I make it my mission to genuinely listen and understand their struggles. Each day proves fulfilling, but today was special.
As I approached a patient’s apartment, I spotted a lone penny on the ground. Without hesitation, I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. Little did I know, this small coin would play a significant role in my day. The patient, a woman with fragile health, was already sipping on wine when I arrived at 10 am. Her story unfolded, revealing a heart-wrenching journey marked by the loss of several family members, including her own daughter.
She shared tales of despair and sadness, tears flowing freely. I found myself swept up in her emotional narrative, shedding a few tears of my own. Toward the end of our visit, I remembered the penny in my pocket. Pulling it out, I asked her if she knew about “pennies from heaven.” She nodded, having heard a story about it before. I handed her the penny, explaining that I had found it outside her apartment, and it was meant for her, not me. It was a message from her departed loved ones, a sign that they were still with her, offering comfort and love.
As I left her apartment, I couldn’t help but reflect on the emotional exchange. Walking to my car, I looked down and, there it was – another penny. This time, I felt it was meant for me. A silent acknowledgment from her departed loved ones, expressing gratitude for caring about her. In that moment, the cyclical dance of finding and giving pennies took on a profound and interconnected meaning.
Find a penny, give a penny, get a penny. It can be that simple.
The day began on a high note. I felt invigorated, overcoming major physical setbacks to lead one of my fitness classes—a promising start. Anticipating sharing the joy of myself imposed success with my person, I looked forward to diving into my significant responsibilities at my job, where I help those genuinely in need. The morning and day unfolded seamlessly until a sudden realization hit me—a noticeable silence, a ghosting. My person… Ah, yes, his day commenced with the unraveling of… his ghosts.
Navigating life’s challenges often calls for empathy, understanding, and a willingness to offer hall passes to those facing trials and tribulations. However, there comes a juncture where it’s crucial to discern when to blow the whistle and throw the yellow penalty flag. Determining this point involves assessing the impact of someone’s actions on themselves and others, the repeated nature of certain behaviors, and whether providing continuous allowances perpetuates a cycle of negative consequences. It’s a delicate balance—one that requires consideration of both compassion and accountability.
At what juncture, and at what cost to my own feelings, do I ponder the duration required for personal growth? I find myself baffled by my person’s apparent inability to truly see me and grasp the impact of their actions on my well-being. The overarching question that lingers is, when do I declare ‘enough’? How many instances of facing plant moments will it take for me to acknowledge that there’s a pressing issue at hand?
Failure… Whose responsibility is it? It seems the finger points to the recurring face plants—I find myself repeatedly planted on the ground. I am the one who advocates open dialogue, the candid conversationalist. Transparency is my forte; I harbor no secrets or lies. Imperfection is my admission, but authenticity—raw, honest, and true—is my essence.
When do I regain my balance and put an end to the consistent face-planting? The undeniable truth is that I hold the reins, the sole controller of this narrative. The looming question remains—when will I firmly take root and put an end to repeatedly smacking my face on the ground?
I’ve read a quote “It’s usually the stuff you want to do the least that changes your life the most.”
Failure, face planting, don’t seem to be working for me. Time to consider a face lift.
When someone says: “Expect the unexpected” Slap them and say: “You didn’t expect that did you?
It’s the little things… or perhaps, the big things. The line between them blurs, and I find myself questioning if they’re truly separate entities or intricately intertwined. After a considerable hiatus, the urge to put pen to paper has resurfaced, fueled by a persistent feeling that’s difficult to articulate.
This sensation stems from a culmination of seemingly inconspicuous details that have morphed into a singular, substantial entity. Amidst this amalgamation, the loss of Lorick stands out as an undeniable significant event—a truly big thing that has left an indelible mark on my life.
Reflecting on this, I’ve come to the realization that I was trapped in a state of paralysis. Stuck in the relentless routine of day-to-day life, I found myself mired in a profound sense of unhappiness. Interestingly, this stagnant state persisted even longer than Lorick’s absence, making me acutely aware of the gravity of my situation.
The little things, once dismissed, have coalesced into a formidable force, prompting me to confront the larger issues at play. It’s a journey of self-discovery and acknowledgment, a realization that the seemingly insignificant elements can wield profound influence, and that addressing them is pivotal to breaking free from the shackles of, stuck ness.
So, with this realization in mind, I made the conscious decision to unstick myself—a process I had been grappling with for quite some time. The challenge lay in identifying the right solvent to dissolve the stickiness that had held me captive.
Step one involved embarking on a quest to find a new job—one that would not just be a means of employment but a source of genuine fulfillment. I sought a role that would allow me to engage in activities that resonate with the essence of who I am, particularly my passion for helping others.
Step two required a leap of faith in trusting the process. Embracing change and believing in the journey ahead, even when the path seemed uncertain, became an integral part of this transformative process.
Then came step three—the pivotal moment of pulling the trigger. It was about making a definitive choice and committing to the decisions that would reshape my life. This step, though daunting, marked the initiation of a journey towards a more authentic and satisfying existence.
Step four, the final act, simply involved taking a breath and acknowledging that the deed was done. The culmination of these steps ushered in a new chapter, free from the constraints of stagnation. I had successfully dissolved the stickiness that once bound me, opening doors to possibilities and opportunities that align with my true self.
Having successfully navigated the journey of self-liberation, I found myself pondering the significance of sharing my experiences, particularly those intertwined with Lorick. The canvas of my life is adorned with a myriad of intriguing, diverse, and challenging experiences, each capable of enriching any conversation, regardless of who sits around the table.
However, this week—though it’s only Wednesday—I noticed a distinct inclination to bring my bipolar journey through life with Lorick to the forefront of these conversations. Surprisingly, both aspects of my experiences were unveiled like a meticulously prepared gourmet dinner, served to my unsuspecting guests.
It made me reflect on the nature of vulnerability and authenticity in storytelling. Lorick’s role in my life, with all its intricacies and challenges, became a poignant thread in the tapestry of my narrative. Sharing this facet allowed me to connect with others on a deeper level, fostering genuine understanding and empathy.
I realized that there is immense power in embracing the entirety of one’s journey, including the complexity of relationships and mental health. By bringing these experiences to the table, I created an opportunity for meaningful connections, transcending the superficial layers of conversation.
Yet, my grief remains a constant companion. Each day, its presence lingers, shrouded in an enigmatic ‘why’ that often eludes understanding. I find myself caught in a cycle of replaying moments, wrestling with regret, and fervently wishing for a different outcome. The harsh reality, however, is that I cannot alter the irreversible; Lorick is gone, and I am here, alive.
My pain, my enduring suffering, possesses a unique potential—a transformative power that could mend someone else’s brokenness. It struck me that, through the ability to lend a compassionate ear, an understanding mind, and a heart willing to help, I could channel my experiences into a force for healing.
Life, as I’ve observed, unfolds unevenly, distributing its fairness and unfairness without discernible rhyme or reason. Bearing witness to this inherent injustice, I acknowledge the weight of my own struggles. Yet, in embracing the unfairness, I’ve discovered an opportunity to do the right thing, to utilize my pain as a catalyst for positive change.
It’s an acknowledgment that life’s hardships can be repurposed to bring solace to others. Lorick, I believe, would find solace in the idea that his absence could serve a greater purpose, no matter the subject. Nurturing empathy, understanding, and healing in the lives of those who may share similar struggles.
341 days have passed, and it feels like an eternity since you left me. I told myself that I wouldn’t put pen to paper until I reached that symbolic mark of 365 days, but I can’t keep my promise. It’s as if the moment October 5th came and went, my anxiety spiked, and I found myself trapped in the haunting memories of last year, October 2022.
I can’t help but replay those moments, like a movie that won’t stop playing. Every last time with you, each laugh, each touch, they’re etched in my mind. It’s haunting, and I’m always on the lookout. I think I see you in the corner of my eye, behind every turn, but when I reach out, it’s just the empty air. It’s like a relentless trick my mind plays on me, a cruel reminder that you’re gone.
I miss you so much, and the longing is unbearable at times. There’s this unexplainable fear that I’ll lose you, even though you’re already gone. The grief is like a weight that I can’t shake off. It’s hard to manage my emotions. I can feel myself spiraling, losing control, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I keep hoping you’ll visit me in my dreams, just one last time. But then, I realize I sometimes sabotage it. Maybe I’m scared that the dreams will be so vivid that waking up without you will be even more painful. It’s a complex dance of desire and self-protection.
Where are you? Why did you have to leave? I need you so badly. I long for your comforting presence, your care. I need you to take care of me. Please, come back.
It’s a jumble of emotions, a rollercoaster that I never wanted to ride. But writing this down, getting it out, it helps. It’s my way of reaching out to you, of keeping your memory alive. Grief is a messy journey, and I’m navigating it the best I can, one day at a time.
A note to myself:
Take your time to heal and express your emotions as they come. Grief is unique to each person, and there’s no right or wrong way to experience it. Writing can be a powerful tool in processing your feelings and memories.
Good, clear boundaries are a gift to everyone. Resentment, exhaustion, guilt, obligation, and passive-aggressiveness are gifts to no one. – Jen Sincero
In the quiet space where two souls meet, A chance for love, our hearts now beat. Leaving the past, its shadows and strife, We embark on a journey to embrace life.
With you, my dear, it’s a brand new start, No baggage from yesterday, no broken heart. In the tapestry of now, our story’s unwritten, With each moment we share, our love is smitten.
The past, a chapter, we’ve chosen to close, No ghosts of old loves, no lingering woes. In the present, we’ll build a love that’s true, A future together, just me and you.
Hand in hand, we’ll create memories so sweet, In this love story, our hearts shall beat. With hope as our guide, we’ll dance through the night, Starting over with you, feels so perfectly right.
Let’s cherish each sunrise, each moment, each day, As we leave the past behind, together we’ll sway. In the warmth of our love, our hearts will find, A future so bright, as we leave the past behind.
The Dish by Deni 