My Life: A Broken Lens

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My Journey Through Fear

I remember the day I called my mother in law at her office and asked if there was any work I could do in her department. I had no job, no real experience in administration, but it was what I really wanted to do. And yes, I had an “in”, but that call was still really hard to make. I was asking for something from another person, that I felt I had to real claim to ask. She took a chance on me and gave me a job as a filing clerk for the other administrators. And for the first two years, I busted my butt and I learned everything from the amazing ladies I worked with. I started with filing. And then they gave me mail outs. Then they gave me charts to prepare. Then they gave me small clinics to run. And then they gave me typing. And then they gave me my own doctor to work for. And I worked for him, and learned as I went. And I felt like a fraud. I felt like I hadn’t earned the position of administrator because I didn’t have my degree. But I knew the job and I did it. I didn’t give it my all though because I truly didn’t believe that I knew what I was doing.

I went on maternity leave, and the whole time I was off I was worried that the person that was covering for me would be better than I was and I would lose my job. I told myself that they can’t do that; they were legally required to have a job for me to go back to, but I was still worried. Because I knew I hadn’t been giving it my all. I KNEW that I hadn’t tried my best, and that was why I was so worried.

When I went back after my maternity leave the doctor I was working with asked to talk to me. And he voiced exactly what my worries were. He saw that I wasn’t working like I wanted to be there. I thought I was going to lose my job. And I truly believed that he was well within his rights to let me go. And I cried in his office and I told him that while I had been off I came to the same realization, and I was determined to show him that I was dedicated to my job. This man didn’t have to give me another chance. But he showed me patience and understanding, and to someone who was struggling to see their own potential this was huge.
I took control of the office again, and I worked hard. I asked for feedback weekly. I asked where I could improve. Where had I done well. I felt valued and appreciated and worthy. And it showed in my work.
I loved my job. I loved the people I worked with and for. I loved my doctor and his ethical approach. I loved my job.

I was then given a second doctor to work for. And this doctor presented challenges that I had never faced before and felt completely unprepared to deal with. And that doubt came back in. And my work started to suffer again. I started to leave certain tasks undone because I didn’t know how to do them, and I didn’t have the same trust with this new doctor that I had built with my other one, and I was so afraid to look incompetent. And my work reflected that. My actions were directly affected by how I felt and I made mistakes. And I would be corrected. And it would re-enforce that belief that I held in myself that I wasn’t good enough for the job. That I was a fraud trying to do a job I wasn’t cut out for.

And then I went on my second maternity leave. And 6 months before I was supposed to go back I started having anxiety. I did not want to go back to that work where I felt like a failure. I knew my heart wasn’t in it to continue working for both doctors and instead of sitting down with my manager and being open and honest about where I was, I quit. I was more afraid of showing my manager that I was afraid and confused, than I was about anything else I would face if I quit my job.

I quit a high paying (in my field), full time with benefits, hospital job because I was afraid. Granted, there were other circumstances that played in to this decision, but mostly, they were the excuses I gave to cover my fear of failure. If I quit, I couldn’t be fired. If I quit, it was my decision to leave the work I was doing. Because I was so convinced that I was failing, that it was safer and better for my resume to say I had quit for x,y,z reasons.

That’s not to say that it wasn’t, and still is one of the best decisions I ever made. It gave me time to reflect on what I really wanted. But I gave up, instead of trying, instead of being honest about who I was and what I was feeling.

Through the last couple of years, we have struggled significantly because of that decision I made. It has not been easy. There has been so much guilt and shame and anxiety in my body because I had felt like I let me husband down. I put more responsibility on him. I had let my kids down by showing them that if you’re scared, just quit. I let fear run my life.

I have worked at three different jobs since then, and none of them have been right for me. And yes, I’ve quit all three, but not because I was afraid. I quit because I was listening to myself. I was listening to what I was feeling in those jobs and it always came back to what I didn’t like about them, and why they weren’t a good fit for me. And the discomfort of quitting and finding something else was better than the discomfort of staying.

The greatest thing I’ve ever done for myself was listen to my anxiety. To listen to what it was telling me. And at first, I listened for the discomfort. I Iistened for the unease in the situation. And because of one single book I read, I started to change how I looked at my discomfort and rather than see what I didn’t want, I started to ask myself what I did want. My anxiety and my unease was telling me exactly what I didn’t want, and it was my responsibility and my RIGHT to discover the deeper understanding in those moments.

If I had never had the courage to listen to myself and to take myself out of those situations that were not quite comfortable, even though it was at great risk to my families stability (in my mind), I never would have discovered the path I’m on now. I never would have been brave enough or strong enough to take control of my life and make it what I WANT.

Do I still have fear? Of course I do. But that fear pushes me to understand myself even better, and to push myself beyond my comfort because my comfort zone is actually really uncomfortable in the long run. I have a chance to build something for myself. For my family. For my friends. For humanity. And I’m not going to stop because I’m afraid. I’m not going to give up on myself because I don’t want to be uncomfortable. I’m already uncomfortable!! The worst that I could be, is exactly where I am for the rest of my life. And that? That’s the real fear.

Is that a question in your statement?

I can’t tell you how many times I said “I’m tired” before I became more self-aware. I used to say it alllllll the time! And my amazing husband would often say the same thing “go lie down then”. And I would actually go so far in my awareness to say that I wasn’t SLEEPY I was TIRED.

What I have come to realize is I was tired of feeling guilty. I was tired of feeling less than perfect. I was tired of feeling like I had to do everything. I was tired of my life never changing.

I was tired.

I knew EXACTLY what I didn’t want in my life. And yet, nothing ever changed.

And I honestly thought I was being clear in my communication by saying I was tired. I was asking for help. I was asking my husband to make dinner. I was asking my kids to clean up. In my head I was making fifty different requests with the statement “I’m tired”.

I was constantly feeling let down, and disappointed. Unseen. Unheard in my pain and my struggle.

I started learning about finding the true desire in my words, and learning how to express them clearly. How to ask for what I want.

The only thing I can control is how I put myself out to the world, and how I make my voice heard. I’m done with feeling tired.

I very rarely say I’m tired anymore. Now I say “Can you help me with dinner?” Or “I don’t have much left to give; do you mind if I go have a bath?”.

Sometimes the answer isn’t what I’m hoping for, but I no longer feel misunderstood or unseen. I feel empowered and confident that the people around me will help me however they can, when they can, and the rest is up to me. I have to be my own voice. I have to be clear in what I want.

Figure out what you want, and then make it happen. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. And never forget your voice is important. It’s important for you. And it’s important for those around you to better understand you. Know what you want, and then go get it. The world is yours for the taking!!

Building Trust

This still isn’t quite what or how I want to say this, but this is what came out of my head today…If you read all the way through, thank you!

I was 4 months old when I was first separated from the only family I had known. 4 months old. For the next 4 years, I was in and out of foster homes. 5 to be exact. 5 different homes, 5 different families. 5 different environments. To say I had trust issues would be an understatement. When I was officially adopted, but evaluation stated the following “…she related rather superficially to adults and was generally too trusting of adult strangers. She has had a tendency in the past to become rather depressed when anxious and uncertain and to show little affect or enthusiasm…” It also says that “Meredith appears to perform best in a nurturing, accepting and consistent environment”.

The next 13 years of my life, from my perspective, were the exact opposite of nurturing, accepting or consistent. And for years I thought what my life could have been like if I had been adopted into a different family. What possibility could have been brought forth with nurturing instead of punishment? With acceptance instead of shame. With consistency instead of chaos.

In grade 8, after sharing my struggles with another student, they encouraged me to talk to an adult about what I was going through and what I was living with. And so, I found a teacher that I trusted. A teacher that I loved and respected. And during recess, I sat in her office across from the music room and I poured my heart out. I held nothing back.
And she called my house to verify my story. She called and spoke to my mother and told my mom everything I had told her in confidence and in trust. Everything I had told her…about what I was living through in my home.

I’m not telling you this for sympathy. I’m not telling you this so you can hate the people in my past. I don’t hate them. I know and understand now that they were doing the best they could with what they had. I’m telling you this so you can understand that when I say I trusted no one, ever, you can see for yourself the broken, lonely world I lived in. So you can see, how truly alone I felt I was. Because I truly trusted no one again…until December 2018.

In December 2018, I finally learned to trust myself. And from there, so much more trust has grown. And I can see that just because I didn’t trust myself, didn’t mean that others didn’t. I was simply seeing my life from my perspective. My very lonely, broken, untrusting perspective. I wasn’t seeing reality. I was seeing my version of reality through the lens of my perceived broken emotional state.

Trust wasn’t easy for me to accept, it caused me a lot of anxiety. There had been nothing but pain associated with trust in my life. But my past does not define me. My past simply made me who I am today. I can change absolutely nothing about it; all I can do is take what I’ve learned and move forward and create something better with the knowledge I have.

Trust is growing into love for myself, my husband, my kids, my friends. Now that I finally and fully trust myself, my world is exploding with previously unseen possibility! I am literally building my life up from the very bottom. And it all started with trust.

Who, what and why

My name is Meredith and I’m an addict.

I’m addicted to making my life better. I’m addicted to helping other people lead happier lives. I’m addicted to life.

But that wasn’t always the case. I used to be addicted to food, alcohol, cigarettes, and shopping.

See, up until 6 months ago, I had lived my entire life being depressed, anxious, lonely, and hopeless. At best. I often wished I would die. I knew I wasn’t living, but I didn’t even know what that word meant anymore.

I decided to give myself one last chance. I was going to start from scratch. I was going to move out of my home, away from my husband and children, and I was going to do what I always wished I had done. I was going to make it on my own. I was going to be my own person, with my own goals, my own schedule, my own everything. I was going to be fucking happy. And if I couldn’t be happy on my own, then I could die.

Well…I didn’t move out of my house and I didn’t live on my own. I did however become my own person. I found my goals. I found myself. And I’m fucking happy. Deliriously, wonderfully, beautifully happy.

This blog is my memory of a time gone by, my triumphs in the world I now know, and everything in between. I hope that within the words I write, you might find the inspiration to give yourself one last chance. So long as you give yourself one last chance again and again and again, you’ll find your happy ever after. I never thought it would happen for me. Not in a million years. but here I am. An addict.

Addicted to changing lives, starting with my own.