Habits

Compared to my twenties, I am practically a health nut. Unfortunately, my personality does not allow for a lot of down time. Case in point, I studied my arse off for approximately 5 months for my licensing exam, took it and passed on March 22nd and then by April 2, I had started writing a book.

I'm someone who believes in manifestation. I believe in the power of positivity, the power of {{{feeling}}}, the power of envisioning where you want to be and letting yourself marinate in that reality until it comes true. I listen to podcasts on my commute, I watch youtube videos late at night (I switch between manifestation videos and Jenna Marbles) and I read articles and ebooks on gratitude, abundance and attracting the kind of life I want. I really hate admitting this because it seems like people equate abundance to financial wealth. I'm not poor but I also have more earning potential in my future. In my opinion though, financial wealth is only a piece of the puzzle. Abundance to me means passionate and fulfilling relationships, doing work that you love and that you feel excited about, being physically vibrant and strong, feeling deeply connected, guided, and loved by the Gold Thread (God), as I like to call it. Money is part of it and it comes easily when all of the above is being tended to.

I hope you all don't think I'm a nutter. Aaron finds my manifestation talk pretty ridiculous and always brushes it off by saying, "Well, worst case scenario Hun, at least you're thinking positively." He is right and also he doesn't get it. What he does get however, is the second part of manifestation. Habits. I'm sure sitting on a pillow and feeling the feelings of abundance has worked for some people but for me, a very vital part of all this are my habits. What is my time spent on? Am I working towards abundance in all of it's facets or is what I'm doing pulling me farther away? Am I working towards greater wealth or farther away (enter my ebay addiction)? Am I working towards physical health or away from it (she inserts wine into mouth)? How are the quality of my thoughts? Am I worried? Panicked? Or calm, full of faith, relaxed and confident? When my mind starts to reel, do I have a method to stop my thoughts and remind myself to focus on the positive (hair tie on wrist, very helpful for thought stopping).

This morning I found myself asking these questions. I have learned to be kinder to myself and slightly less drill Sargentesk but I hold myself to a high standard I find that I'm actually easier on myself when I'm harder on myself, if that makes any sense at all. Here's an example, I went on a run this evening and recently my runs have been hard. I've struggled near the end and I find myself in a mental battle. One voice says, "I'm tired. I've had a long day. I have a lot to do when I get home. I just want to stop running now." The other voice, who by the way has become so much more polite and understanding says, "I know you're tired. You have been working hard but this good for you and this is easy. You can do anything. This is easy." The other voice protests but not for long and 9 times out of 10, my body feels more energized, and I am always so happy after I run.

So, Habit #1 that I want to share with all of you, for accountability reasons, is Positive Self-Talk. I've said some pretty awful things to myself in the last 34 years and the reasons why I did have never been real but it took me a long time and a lot of therapy to understand that. The icing on the cake was Ellis though. I hold this vision of her sitting cross-legged on her dorm bed late at night, getting to know her roommate who is hopefully not crazy and telling her all about her mom and how I taught her to believe in herself, to be confident and kind to herself and always, always know that everything is going to work out well. I love the quote by Marianne Williamson, "If you knew who walked beside you on this path you have chosen, fear would be impossible."

Habit #2: I will write a blog entry once a week. I wrote Dear Dora, my weekly relationship advice column in the Taos News for nearly a decade and there were plenty of weeks that I did not feel up to writing, let alone dolling out relationship advice (so awkward when you're going through a break up). Still, I felt accountable to my editor and my readers, who incidentally would approach me asking if I was sick or had quit the column on the rare occasion I did not write that week. While I don't expect anyone to give me shit in the coffee line if I don't write a blog entry, it helps to at least pretend that there is an expectant group of readers out there who depend on me to follow through.

Habits are best served in small portions so that's it for tonight. I will see you in a week +1 day because I plan on writing on Tuesdays.

xoxo-D

What's Luck Got To Do With It?

Some folks I know, purposely being non-specific so as to avoid incrimination, say things like, "I wish I was as lucky as you." Or "Your life is so much easier than mine." Or they'll throw out an excuse like, "Well if my life was as good as yours then..." 

I find these comments so interesting because a) my life isn't that easy. Did they miss the part where Aaron almost died, my career in behavioral health ended in under a month, and my name was defamed all over New Mexico? It's all relative really. When I Facebook stalk people, they all look extremely abundant, thin, married to the best guy/girl ever, with 2.5 kids, a well-groomed pet, and a hybrid Lexus in the garage. Truth is, everyone is struggling with something and everyone is kicking ass at something. Apples and oranges as Aaron likes to say. No point in attempting to compare ourselves to anyone else. 

The other reason I find these comments interesting is that I don't think luck has much to do with how life turns out for a person. Luck is something that comes in handy when purchasing a lottery ticket or finding something you really love at a yard sale. I guess I wouldn't classify myself as "lucky" or "unlucky." What a disservice to chalk up your successes and failures to luck, or a lack there of. 

And before I spout anything else, I need appease the pleasing part of myself by saying that I am extremely grateful for my life. Sometimes just for the thrill of it, I let my mind wander back in time and I think, "it's a God damn miracle I survived." Honestly, I was so foolish for so long. I also need to confess that I do not want to come off as a know-it-all, self-righteous (gross!), snob either so just tuck that in there too. 

 

So this morning I'm chatting on the blue tooth and the luck comment is laid down and my first reaction is guilt. "I am lucky," I think and then there's a jolt inside me and I feel a little anger creeping up. Wait a second here. It's not luck. It's work. Therapy, spiritual work, college, graduate school. Lots of sacrifices, lots of time, lots of money and all in the hopes that I might improve my quality of life and learn the skills necessary to have a good career and a happy, healthy relationship. It's work. It's scary and it's never ending. I have not arrived anywhere. In my mind I'm still climbing that mountain. Enjoying the hike immensely, but still climbing. 

As a therapist (or trained as one anyway), I can say that there's a big difference between people who show up and do their work and those who don't. There's really no luck involved, just guts and a willingness to split yourself open to find the real you. 

So that's what I've been thinking about today. And in other news, Ellis and I did our nails. 

An Ode to Four (It's part of preparing for marriage. Also, I am no poet)

I was so young and unresolved.
He was the nicest man I had ever met.
In the end, after my mistake, I was still absolved.
Unconditional love was our only debt.


I knew the first time I saw him,
A spark I had not yet known.
Kind, he was not. And still I walked out on that limb.
A wild ride with hints of love but always finding a heart of stone.
Still I loved him even though our chances were grim.
"The one who got away" is who I am according to him.


I had always heard of a love so grand, so encompassing,
We were deeply in love. Infatuated. 
You lose yourself without second guessing.
Passion goes both ways though.
Who was once your greatest blessing,
can so quickly become your foe.
I ran as fast as I could
and thank God.
I did my best to be there just the way he liked it.
In the end, nothing I did would acquit.


I was on the mend when I met you
A tremendous heartache I had just been through
I found as I regained my feet, a wound across my memory
that no amount of stitches would repair
but I awoke, and you were standing there.
A life so sane, so full and calm.
A million years, I hope we share.
Our love and fortitude has been like a balm.
Health, happiness, laughter and love is my prayer.

Confessions Pt.3

2/25/14: The other day when I was driving home I pretended I was famous and Jimmy Kimmel had invited me on his show to read a Mean Tweet. I pretended that my mean tweet said, "Dorothy Forbes is a stupid, fat, whore." I laughed really loud and then said to the camera and hopefully my mean tweeter, "That is not nice." [Ellis subsequently asked me, "Mommy? What doing?" To which I responded, still laughing, "Oh, just pretending to be famous again." "Oh."
P.S. If you have not experienced Mean Tweets, youtube it immediately. Quite funny.

2/19/14: Sometimes when I'm driving, which is all the time, I pretend I'm a famous singer in a recording studio and I put one hand over my right ear, you know to help with tone and resonance, and then I belt out something that rocks my producer's world and he just stares at me from behind the glass with an expression like, "We're going to be rich!"


2/18/14: Sometimes, ok, most times, when I'm walking out of the supermarket, I pretend I'm famous and paparazzi is taking my picture without me knowing so they can feature me in UsWeekly's, "Stars--they're just like Us."

"They go grocery shopping! Dorothy Forbes keeps it casual and stocks up on microbrews while grocery shopping in Taos, NM." 

 

The Pink Elephant: It is good

The Pink Elephant: It is good: "Do you have any doubts about getting married?" Me: [Silence...thinking.] "Because if you have doubts its not a good idea...

It is good

"Do you have any doubts about getting married?"

Me: [Silence...thinking.]

"Because if you have doubts its not a good idea to get married."

Me: [Silence...shock.]


I thought I would get married a long time ago. When I was really young, I pegged myself as a high school sweetheart type and then when that didn't work out I figured I would meet my soul mate in college. Nope. Graduate school? No. Turns out I was meant for more than marriage.

It all makes sense now and I can see how it would have been a complete disaster for me to get married before the age of 30. There were two people I would have married in an instant. One of them nearly killed me, not exactly but it was a painful, passionate, violent, no-going-back end and the other was a younger version of my dad and I had taken way too many psychology classes to fall into that wormhole. After the former, I was changed. I was no longer willing to lose myself in a relationship. I would never let that happen to me again.

This is who I am. Take it or leave it.

When I met Aaron I didn't care about men. I still loved men, don't get me wrong, but I didn't care about them in relation to me. I felt so broken, so broken open, I couldn't/wouldn't spend energy on someone who wasn't  j u s t  r i g h t.

I don't know what it was about Aaron that felt just right to me. The ease of it. The sense that he wanted to know me but not consume me. The fact that he lived 2.5 hours away from me so our relationship was paced and scheduled, which fit nicely into my career driven life (and his too). The fact that he was a fire fighter and for whatever godforsaken reason, I "get" what it is he does and why he does it and I support him totally and without hesitation even it means he might leave me for two weeks or...forever.

Do I have doubts about getting married? Of course I do. I'm a realist and I understand human nature and I know that we are fickle and tempestuous and mean and deceitful, prideful and cruel. But we are also kind and loving and devout and patient and good. I know that love is the greatest magic in the world. Do I have doubts? Yes, but my hope and my resolve are so much greater.

So it is with faith, something I have struggled with my entire life, I walk forward with this person. Like anything that means something to you, it takes work but there's this thread, it was there when I met him, that keeps me going when I feel too tired and too stubborn. Whatever it is, it is good. 

Regarding the Lump

On Wednesday evening, as I engaged in my secret single behavior, you know, the stuff you do in the bathroom with the door closed. Admittedly, Aaron has caught me a few times and he graciously says nothing, turns on his heals and closes the door. I can sometimes feel his syrupy waves of judgment crashing upon my beaches but mostly I am happy to be left alone to pluck hairs, examine clogged pores, nurse myself, though I only did that once just to see how it tasted. I digress. During Wednesday night's secret single behavior, I noticed a bump on my left breast. It looked like a spider bite and so of course I considered putting the house on the market. After conceding to the fact that I was being a bit dramatic since my skin wasn't even eating itself, I decided to drop it and trot on off to bed.

Next day the lump was harder, more red and definitely more painful. In hindsight, this should have been my first tip off that it wasn't cancer. Still, when all you see is pink ribbons on everything you buy and drive behind, a girl starts to wonder when she'll be the next. So, the thought had been born in my mind. Is this that? Am I going to you know...?

And I tell you, saliency theory is a bitch. As soon as you start to think you have the C word, guess what you hear on the radio, see on the MSN, read on Facebook. Because I am someone who thinks the universe stops what it's doing to give me "signs", advertisements for end of life care are terribly disconcerting when you have diagnosed yourself with C the night before.

I caused such a hurricane in my nervous system, I had no idea who to call. My PCP? The lactation consultant? My gynecologist? Should I just go straight to UCLA and admit myself into a clinical trial? No, no that's a bit much. Breast, that's women's parts so let's start with my gynecologist. When I called the office I was dreading the part where the receptionist asks why I'm making the appointment. "I have a lump in my breast." "I see." Really? You see? You know what, the most important part of your job is to pretend that when I say "I have lump in my breast," I really just said, "It's my birthday!" To which you say, "OK! Great, we can get you in at 3:15. See you then!" I see? What the shit.

Next came the 4-hour Internet search to pre-diagnose myself. I rarely go into doctor's office without a diagnosis in hand. I don't know why I do this since I didn't appreciate when client's did it to me but I watch a lot of Grey's Anatomy and the Internet has pictures so I know what I'm talking about dammit. After several hours, I decided I had a cyst that would need to be aspirated by a surgeon, preferably the surgeon who removed my appendix and preferably without the help of my ex-boyfriend who is/was a surgical assistant and who might kill me if given the chance.

After much anticipation, turns out the lump was a bacterial infection that will go away on its own. Much ado about nothing and when it comes to my health, I love me some much ado about nothing!
He did mention that I may need to get my ovaries removed at 45 but that's 11 years away so I'm going to table that one for now.

Ellis, mom is here to stay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!