29 January 2017
We’ve all faced at least one single moment in our life where we’ve just had enough and can’t take negativity any longer. Our safe space is gone. We are limited by the actions of someone else. Our mental and emotional state of mind is a chaotic mess, and we have somehow lost our identity.
Growing up our parents placed boundaries upon us, especially as teenagers. I was a teenager who had to constructively argue for what I believed was right to move beyond some of the boundaries they placed.
As adults, there are some boundaries that should never be crossed. If you are the religious type, the boundaries are the Ten Commandments and the seven deadly sins are antecedents. For those of us who don’t necessarily have a faith in a single being, but do believe in a higher power, we, too, have enough common sense to know how to do the right thing and how to destroy and hurt by doing the wrong thing.
We are human. We make mistakes. However, this does not exonerate us from actions that are extremely hurtful, possibly unforgivable, especially in relationships. Standing in the middle of events that are exponentially gaining speed is a shock to the system. The disturbance keeps vibrating as there remains no genuine concern for the other party that stands by as their spouse walks right into a train wreck. And the betrayed party can’t do a damn thing about it.
I closed a door last week. Another one opened. The door that opened had “take care of yourself” encrypted into the wood. I began a new plan to do just that. I stopped thinking about how another person would feel or react by the actions I took to protect myself-that caring of the self. I was beginning to regain control, stop giving so much of myself, and realize it was time to place boundaries, especially when behaviors are no longer acceptable. Beyond an amazing strength (perhaps the next subject for a future post), I knew it was time for self-respect. I built, and vocalized these, boundaries because I was in the right place to stand my ground. I joke that this is the year of Karen, and I’m going to make waves, and I believe it to be true still.
I am nearing the second week of ten week in my classes, and I can hold my head high to proclaim I have survived another week. It’s not without obstacles placed before me on a daily basis, but the sticky note that sits in front me as I read, think and type says “YOU CAN DO THIS!”
This is my thesis writing term; I complete my thesis in the next (and last) term. My thesis is a novel. Last week I had to submit a project plan that included an outline. By the time I finished my assignment I realized my novel has an extremely powerful message, and is like no other book I’ve ever read. I began writing the first three chapters in November during NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), but didn’t continue as things began to crash and burn around me. The story ideas were already planted in November. After writing the story outline (in January), I stared at my screen asking myself if I was clairvoyant as certain events strangely became part of a reality.
I get to spend the next few days “interviewing” the characters because I need to know more about their desires, goals, dreams and motivations. The female protagonist might not be able to create her own boundaries, because she will be in a coma, but she will learn over time how to reach inside her inner core that will allow her to grow.
What I am going to enjoy the most about these next eight weeks is that writing is my personal boundary. Writing is my safe space. As I write, I am in a zone where there is no betrayal, no hurtful words, no emotional abuse, and no loss of identity. I know exactly who I am, what I want, what I need to do, and how I need to get there. Sure, I am going to stumble and fall along the way, but writing my thesis is my clear focus that will allow me to honor this particular boundary.