Fear and Love

I am an introvert. That doesn’t mean that I don’t like people…or don’t enjoy being around them. It just means that when I need to recharge…recenter…fill up my cup…I need time by myself. It also means that when I am out and about I don’t usually strike up conversations with random strangers. I will be polite…say hi…maybe a little “ope…let me get past ya” if the situation warrants it, this is MN after all…but that’s it. One of my closest friends is an extrovert. She will strike up conversation with literally anybody…a lady running a booth at the farmer’s market…a shop owner…or like yesterday afternoon, some random dude on the patio at Caribou. Granted…this time he approached us first…but where I would have been “no, I am not the person you are looking for” and done my best Jedi mind trick to get him moving on his way, my friend proceeded to carry on a conversation with random dude. The meeting of two extroverts…worst nightmare for an onlooking introvert like me, who is really just feeling resentful of random dude for butting in on her time with her friend.

And why even bring it up? Because now it’s almost 2am…I’m obviously not sleeping…and instead I’m thinking about the random Caribou conversation which happened to be about religion. Random dude thought he recognized us from Church…my friend, who has her doctorate in apologetics, said “no, but I do preach two Sundays a month at a different church”…yada yada. I tuned out until I heard my friend say something about love and fear…that according to the Bible, love is the opposite of fear. And that is what had me digging through my closet looking for my Bible…1 John 4: 18 “There is no fear in love, but perfect love cast out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love”.

Love and fear as opposite sides of a spectrum has never occurred to me, but my mind is busy turning that around and around and making sense of that in my reality right now. Not that I claim that Jason and I had “perfect love”…I’m sure that the “Godly” people reading this are shouting at me that perfect love can only come from God…but we had “perfect for us” love. And in that love, I had zero fear. That love was my rock. After Jason died, fear started to take over and 4 years later continues to wreak havoc in my life. Fear tells me lies all the time…that I am unlovable…that I am worthless…that I am unworthy…that I only cause pain to those around me…on and on. And thankfully I do have more and more people in my life, like my extroverted friend, who call me on that bullshit.

Hopefully, sleep will be in the cards for me now. Probably shouldn’t have had the XL iced tea at 5pm…

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Write On…

Yesterday was a very big “ending” for me. In the story of my life, it marked the culmination of a chapter that only lasted 14 months, but was extremely impactful on my life. It was my last therapy session with Tara. We spent our time together talking about our chapter. Going back to May 3, 2024 when I first sat in her office. I don’t remember a lot of what I said, but I do remember how I felt. I was done. I was depressed and felt like I had no purpose in my life anymore. I struggled to relate to people and have any kind of relationship that felt real. I felt unseen…invisible…lonely all the time. I was tired of constantly wearing a mask to appear “normal” to society and not make other people uncomfortable by my grief. By that point, I had been struggling for years. It was a struggle that began when Jason was first diagnosed in May, 2020 and then became unbearable after he died in August, 2021. She was my last hope…and I told her that…at our first meeting.

And for 14 months she has listened to my story…witnessed my pain…shared in my joys…applauded my adventures…encouraged my writing. Her eyes never strayed from my face…she never tried to change the subject…she didn’t try to fix things for me. She occasionally gave advice when I directly asked for it…but mostly, mostly she just listened. And she not only listened, but THANKED me for telling my story…for being vulnerable…for sharing my whole truth. That was…and still kinda is…crazy to me!!

That chapter is a really hard one for me to turn the page on, but I am so thankful that I am the person that I am now for the start of this new one…and whatever adventures it may bring. I was hoping to start it with another camping adventure…but stupid decisions on Tuesday led to me being laid up with huge blisters on my heels. Lucky for me I have an awesome son who doctored me up last night when it looked like infection was setting in….so they are feeling pretty good…but not “let’s put shoes on” good.

So instead I’m going to embrace a weekend at home. Spend some good time in my gazebo. Do some writing. Read some books. See some family…maybe an impromptu get together with friends. And that feels just perfect.

Tara wrote me this note yesterday. It now lives on my desk. So many words of hers will forever live with me…but I really love these…

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Beginnings…and Endings

I love to start my mornings out in my gazebo. Today is perfect for it. It’s Juneteenth so I’m off of work. The sky is clear. There’s no wind. It’s still cool enough that I popped on my fire table. The sound of water trickling in my fountain and the birds singing drown out a bit of the urban noise. The lilac tree that shelters my gazebo is blossoming. The dogs are laying peacefully by me without chasing squirrels or bunnies all crazy. If only I could train them to run in the house and refill my coffee cup for me.

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My emotions and thoughts feel deep today. I’ve been thinking a lot about beginnings and endings. How life is full of them. Hell, every day has a beginning and ending. Some beginnings are the start of something we never want to end, and the end is painful and full of grief. Sometimes we can’t wait for the end, and celebrate its arrival. Sometimes we can’t wait for something to begin and can barely stand the anticipation and its arrival is marked with celebration. Sometimes beginnings feel uncertain and are marked with anxiety and trepidation. Most beginnings and endings aren’t that dramatic…they just ebb and flow with the passing of time…unmarked…unnoticed really.

Yesterday I had my third to the last visit with my therapist. Only two more weeks with her. We talked a lot about the ending of that relationship and how I feel about it. She is the one person on this earth who I can say completely knows and sees me…that I 100% trust. The only other person that I could say that about is Jason…and he died. So, it’s hard for me to keep the loss of my relationship with Tara (my paid therapist) in perspective. It feels like so much more than the loss of a business relationship.

I also am constantly reminding myself that last May, when I first walked into Tara’s office and sobbed on her couch, was also the start of a much more important relationship that will never end…my relationship with myself. She helped facilitate that…peel back a lot of layers…heal a lot of hurt…rebuild trust in myself. That was the real purpose of her time in my life.

So Monday I have a consult with a colleague of hers that she thinks will be a good fit. I’m trying really hard to be optimistic. To feel some excitement for this new beginning. But it’s hard. I told Tara yesterday that my fear is that I won’t be able to get over my weekly therapy sessions not being the same…I’ll lose my motivation for them…and I’ll just stop going. But maybe this will be a good beginning….sometimes we just don’t know.