Tao of Té Happy NYE!

2014 Look Out Baby 'Cause Here I come!!

 

Today millions of people will be pondering their New Year resolutions. Come midnight the champagne will flow, fireworks will go off and people will get that first kiss of the new year. I've heard what some of the resolutions will be of my friends. I've also seen some refuse to make any resolutions because they know they will break them.

Usually I am the one that does not make resolutions. The reason being is that I just suck. I don't stick to my resolution. I used to have the standard ones like lose weight, save more money, eat healthier. But then I stopped. That was wrong of me.

I am by no means saying you shouldn't make NYE resolutions. I just stopped because I was never fulfilling mine and it became a vicious cycle of making them, not doing them and then feeling bad because I felt like it was a year wasted.

This year, yet again, draws to a close. It has been one hell of a ride the last 13 months. Things have been tragic, horrible, painful and lonely at times. Yesterday I told my GYN, about my year. She was shocked. I've had five emergency surgeries and have broken my toe. That is a lot to squeeze into the year. Then she said something wonderful to me,  she said, "Wow those are some terrible things but you always pick yourself back up."

Do I really? Or do I just sit there waiting for someone else to pick me up? I'd like to think that I do the standing on my own. I have some of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Each would help me in a millisecond. If it hadn't been for my friends I would not have had the strength to go on much less shoulder my burden, but they did. And still know the incredible pain I go through daily. It isn't fun and it just complicates things.

So here are my New Year Resolutions of things I am NOT going to do:

·         I am not going to let someone else's opinion of me make me feel less than I am.

·         I am going to reach out for help when I need it.

·         I am never going to stop showing people, or tell people that I love them as often as they can.

·         I am going to stop seeing the negative/bad parts pf people. Every person has someone good inside.

·         I am going to let grudges of my past and of people go. It is doing nothing to the other person than cause me more grief.

·         I am not going to let people steam roll over me.

 

So there you go. My list of Non-traditional NYE resolutions. There is nothing about saving money, eating well or working out. I've been doing that as often as possible this year. But I am going to be a better this year. I am going to love far deeper. I am going to push R.A.K. as much as possible to help start a movement of interest and of bringing people love. That is one resolution that can be started with someone at any time.

So let your grievances go. Give someone a smile randomly. Don't let regret weigh you down because you always have enough time, even if it is one minute from now, to let the baggage go.

This NYE we will be celebrating at home with some Nyquil due to the girl's giving us their contagion. I probably will be well asleep before the New Year so I want to wish you all the very best beginning to a New Year that you could possibly have.

Just remember to: Dream Big, Love Often, Ignore the small stuff and always keep a goal in mind even if it is nothing more than reading a book you have always wanted to read but haven't had the chance.

Tao of Té - Looking Back 20 Years Ago

Looking Back

 

Next May marks my 20 year Anniversary from the day I graduated High School. Today I brought out an old photo album and posted some pictures. For one of my friend's it saddened her to see a picture of herself when she was 16. For the life of me I didn't understand her reasoning. I find her more interesting today than I did then. I think she is prettier today then she was back so many years ago. But it did make me think.

What was I like 20 years ago? I wasn't naive and I wasn't innocent. Two people remarked that they missed those days. I don't. Why would I ever? Let me explain.

When I was in high school I never spoke up for myself. I let other's dictate how I felt about myself and many times I based my self worth on a guy's interest in me. I wasn't skinny like my friends. And as most overweight girls and young women, I let that weight interfere in some of my judgments. I didn't listen to what was waiting to unfold inside me. I had not experienced life.

If I were to go back in time and talk to the 18 year old me I would tell her this:

"Stop worrying about other people. Don't have sex just to make a guy happy because he is essentially using you and you deserve better. Speak up on things that matter and keep your tongue on things you could care less about. Care more though. Sometimes people mistake quietness for weakness and you were never weak. You just didn't know it. These aren't the best years of your life. Those are yet to come for me and you both."

I would take her hand and show her a map of the world and let her know that there are billions of people that struggle every day and show her how lucky she actually was. She had a Papa, Granny, Grandma and a father. I would kick her in the ass and make her go over and visit them so much it finally bothered them!

As I sit here thinking about myself I am shocked and happy to realize that I have accomplished so fucking much! I had two incredible kids, that at times drive me nuts, but are also the very best in me manifested in them. I have lived in a great many places but I have found my true home in the Pacific Northwest. I may eventually move to another place but it will be a choice I make and it will be another place I've always wanted to live.

I'm not wealthy but then again I've never wanted to be that way. I wanted to be happy with myself. And for the first time in my life I am. I have acknowledged that I suffer from OCD, Anxiety and Depression. But so what? That is okay and if I have a down cycle…I'll eventually come out of it.

I will never be skinny and that's okay. I am losing weight but it isn't for the purpose of looking great. It is because I want to feel great. Yes, my hair is falling out and I'm missing some female organs. I've had my spine opened up three times. I ache when I sit, lay or stand too long. But those things are okay because it means that I am alive.

When people start hating on me for my point of view I don't get angry at them. I don't feel sorry for them. Because they have just as much right to their viewpoint and opinion as I do. That was the entire point of my last great debate. Even if you don't agree with what is being said, you still have to afford them the right that you, yourself take.

I've realized that family means a whole lot but sometimes you have to stop being a baby bird and you have to leave the nest. For me this meant leaving behind a place I both love and hate. I love it because of family and friends but I hate it because it is the type of place that you never break free from the mold you were cast into back in high school. It is the type of small town that is constricting unless you were popular. I don't know if I ever was and honestly…I don't care.

The me of 20 years ago didn't fight for other people's rights. I am proud to have worked on spreading awareness for marriage equality for all. I am proud to live in a city where the LGBT community is making such inroads into equality. I am in awe and love when I have friends that break free and declare their sexuality. I didn't understand that then because I kept silent on those issues. I don't any longer. Anyone who truly knows me knows that I will fight for equality down to my last breath. But that means equality across the board.

I was jaded when I was 18. I was tired of high school and being typecast. I was not comfortable in my own skin. I didn't realize how beautiful I was or how beautiful I would be in 20 years. I am beautiful now. I have a shining soul that would help another at the drop of the hat. That is the only time I wish for wealth.

I have seen my oceans on my native homeland and one day will see them from other countries far across the way. I love my ocean though. The big crashing waves. The ice cold water. The brisk air as it comes rolling across the Pacific. I love my mountains, tall and capped completely in white.

Don't look back at your high school pictures and think those were the good days! Don't look back on those pictures and think of what you have lost! Think about what you have gained. I hope you have gained something because I know I am not alone in this. I know there are others who have gained tremendously after high school.

Yes,  there are wrinkles now and I sometimes have to remind myself how old I am. I have a satchel filled with bad decisions but each one has taught me a lesson and finally I have learned those lessons. There will be other bad decisions in my life and hopefully I'll learn from them the first time around.

So those pictures? Yes…we were young and we grew up. And it is a great thing because it means we are still around and can still have plenty of time for more Grand Adventures. Don't lament because a picture makes you feel old. Instead look back on it as the starting point of your life.

Namasté

Tao of Té Update

Tired

 

Wow, you all get a two for one special this week on Blogs in my Tao of Té series. It really isn't all that spectacular. More like a physical, emotional and mental update. You see…I love and loathe this time of year. And this last year, especially the last 13 months has been incredibly difficult for me.

So let's recap this year:

·         Dad passed away on 11/8/12

·         Hysterectomy and accompanying menopause (that is fantastic and I mean that with all sarcasm. Feeling like you are burning up from the inside is not fun and also feeling as if you are far older than you really are is totally awesome. Read sarcasm for all of that)

·         Back Injury that results in three surgeries

·         Let go from a job I absolutely loved and the people I truly liked being around, some of which now treat me like a pariah for no fucking reason other than they have turned out to be dbags. There are still some great ones that I communicate with often and they know who they are. The others who have chosen to act like I never existed or they ever pretended to be my friend should know that my favorite phrase is GFY. Yep. Truly.

·         Grandmother passed away 12/11/13

That's quite a lot in one year. Granted there have been some incredibly awesome moments such as when my mother came to visit, when one of my best friend's Angie came to visit on a spur of the moment which made my week and of course when I finally started and finished the first rough draft of my novel.

It's been a hard year. Some days seem harder than others. Especially being trapped at home and constantly dealing with back pain that I never had ever had before the injury in August. It has been a hard adjustment and the sympathy level in my house has plummeted to zero at times. I know it isn't their fault…they forget that I live in constant pain. On a scale from 1-10 I consider a good day to be a 4-5. That is pretty damn bad. Bad days can be 8's. And I'm becoming resigned to always having it.

I'm also being tested daily for patience because my long term disability insurance continues to delay paying me. So we live off of Dave's income which puts a strain on our marriage and our relationship. I feel as if he just is sick and tired of it all. It hurts. It truly hurts when your significant other just doesn't seem to get you anymore and doesn't even seem to care.

It's times like these that I wish my friends lived closer. A phone call often isn't enough. It helps that they are always on my side and two have promised to visit come this summer but that is a long ways away.

The worst part of being in pain and being on pain medications is the stigma. I'm not a pill popper. I don't take the medicine to get high but the world, and doctors, see me that way unless they see my MRI. Then they usually change their tone but eventually they start harping on taking steroid shots and doing PT. Kinda hard to go to PT when you know you are going to be in agony for days after each session. And steroid shots are just a band aid. They make you feel good for a couple of days then it all crashes back down and you also have to contend with massive weight gain. So I'm skipping those.

Another hard thing about pain medication is that it blocks the absorption of other drugs. Meaning my HRT (hormone replacement therapy for menopause) isn't working, my depression and anxiety medicine doesn't work and neither does my insomnia medication. My hair is falling out in clumps and is incredibly thin. I've lived with a very thick head of hair my whole life and now each time I comb it or wash it, it looks like Chewbacca took a bath. NOT fun.

The anxiety is often hard to cope with as well because it impacts the rest of my family. Some days I have a short, short fuse as evident above with my GFY attitude lately. It's just hard to find any happiness these days that lasts long before my anxiety over everything else kicks in. I worry about our bank account, paying bills, my insurance, Dave's job, my best friend backing out of visiting, my daughters and a host of other problems. I worry about not giving my loved ones enough presents and the girls not getting the financial help they want with trying to find a vehicle.

I also suffer being alone all day long which for me is a very bad thing because it makes me isolate myself. You'd think that I would want to be around my family when they get home even more but that isn't how my anxiety works. I get used to being lonely and then hide in my bedroom most of the time just sitting there. I have a brand new book I've been waiting more than a year for and I still have not even cracked the page. I just can't drum up the attention span to read it. I don't watch television or movies with the girls and Dave because I can't sit still or rest in one spot too long.

I struggle each and every day wondering if it is all worth it. I get down and think that if this is all life has to offer then why bother? It isn't fun battling that voice every single day. One disappointment after another racking up against me. I'd give anything to see my family for Christmas but I can't even get my own sister to come visit. I've asked countless times and it is usually ignored. I get that she is busy but it still hurts because I've been back to see my family several times and unfortunately will not be back again for quite some time.

So this Tao of Té isn't fun. It isn't funny. It's real and it is gritty. It isn't pretty but hey…it happens to the best of us at times. We all get down at times and I know I will pick myself back up, dust myself off, rub some dirt on it and then move on. I'll find my happiness again one way or another. I'll master this back thing and I'll guilt trip my friends and family into finally visiting if it takes me pestering them every single day with a text.

Come to think of it…that's a pretty good idea. Now that makes me laugh.

A Long Overdue Tao of Té

Long Over view Tao of Té

It has been quite some time since the last installment of my Tao series. There have been lots of things that have gone on in my life. Mostly bad but some good. I treasure each of the good occurrences and try to wade through the bad.

One of my best friends is the reason behind the Tao series. I wanted to let her know what I was going through with the death of my father. It wasn't so I could relate to her. It was meant more as a journey that she could see she was not alone. And that we all grieve in our own way and no one can tell you that they know what you are going through.

Another loved one died this past Wednesday, 12/11/13. It was, once again, an unexpected phone call that left me shaken. It left me guilt ridden once again of a thousand things I did not do. That is the curse of someone passing away. You feel horrible that you did not: call them more, visit them more, do more things with them. learn more from them, etc... Death is hard no matter how it hits you or where it hits you.

Death also makes others uncomfortable. Many will not even mention it unless you bring it up. That is when it hurts. Others will be there for you and though they cannot directly relate many times, they too have known great sorrow in their lives.

With the passing of my Grandmother last Wednesday, I was immediately consumed by grief. My first initial thought was, "I didn't call her like I meant to last week." This was immediately followed with, "I cannot go to her funeral and say my last good bye's."

My family assured me that it was okay, and expected, that I could not fly from Portland to Little Rock due to physical and financial reasons. It did not decrease my guilt though. I still felt as if I should be there. But I could not. I did, however, mourn her from afar. That was at least something I could do.'

Remember that folks. Even if you cannot comfort someone in person, often a phone call, text or even a post on their social media can be enough.

My Grandma passing immediately brought to mind all the things that I loved about her. I'm not saying she was always the best person to many important and loveable people. That is just the fact about people. Not everyone has fond memories and often the pain the deceased one has caused in the past can skew how the living relatives feel.

But my Grandma was different to us grandchildren. She took us under her wing and taught us many things. Some still stick with me to this day. She used to tell me the story of the first time she started babysitting me when my parents worked. Previously to this time, I had been under the care of a woman in Melbourne. I was very very young. The age which most people swear that children do not remember but I remember the woman and her son that watched me. She was a cruel woman that ignored me most of the day but more importantly ignored me when her son would beat on me.

My grandma told me the story how my father stopped by the woman's house and she could no longer offer an excuse as to why I was black and blue with bruises. He immediately took me to Grandma. She told me she opened the door and there I was...beaten by this horrid woman and her evil son. I was a toddler and I remember her son finding me in the closet where I had hidden and him hitting me and then the woman blaming me for it.

My grandma began to babysit all of us over time. Teaching each of us some Spanish, I think in hopes that we would one day have a conversation with her in her native tongue. She told us stories of Peter and his brother. She told us the story of Thumbelina. She taught, and gave, us about white gloves for little girls. She taught us to wear slips and petticoats. She took us to church and taught us her prayers.

As I grew older, though, I stopped going to her house. She didn't have the cool things my other grandparents had such as air conditioning, satellite and lights that could be on more than one at a time. I'll be the first one to admit that I was, at one time, one of the favorites of my Mom's parents. I spent summers at their house. I spent weekends as often as possible. When my Papa passed away it awakened me to death. I had spent hours with him doing what he wanted to do such as fish, swim at the creek and even do chores around the farm on the tractor.

My granny passed away and I grieved greatly for her. She had cared for me when I had my tonsils removed and was having a hard time recuperating.

But regardless I never stopped loving my Grandma. She still loved me as she had always loved us. I still enjoyed hearing her tales from living in Mexico and meeting my Grandfather. But I also began finding out the bad things she had done in her life to others. It was hard reconciling this loving Grandma with the woman who had hurt others deeply. I still loved her but at times was angry with her because she no longer wore the halo I had placed on her.

The reality is that she was human. She had made bad mistakes. She had turned her back on my father and mother for years. She had done terrible things to my mother, my aunt and my half aunts and uncles. I didn't understand how the woman I loved could have done these things.

But eventually realized that my relationship with her was not the same as theirs. She had changed when she had grandchildren. Maybe not to others but at least to us. And eventually I realized that was enough. Her halo was missing but the love was not.

Did she have favorite grandchildren? Of course. Was I one of them? I don't know and I don't care. Her love for me was enough. I know it hurt her that I stopped interacting with her when I grew up and I regret that. I do not regret our last time spent together. I do not regret the many visits where I sat with her on the couch and heard her narrate her many photo albums.

I do wish I could have seen and talked to her one last time. But that is the nature of someone passing away. You always regret not doing more.

The one thing I am appreciative of is her living a very full life. She was almost 89 years old. She was born in the 20's. That is a lot of life and experiences to squeeze into one life. She has seen tremendous change. I love her and I will mourn her death silently from over 2000 miles away. I will bear the sting of not contacting her as much as my sisters who live there.

I will always miss my Grandma. She was the last of my grandparents and another reminder that death comes to everyone no matter how much you are loved. I hope and pray that she is at peace with her husband, son and her other grandchildren that passed before us.

The Hardest Post Ever

Misconceptions

 

I am admitting to you something that is hard for me. So bear with me. Don't think any less of me. Don't think any more of me. This does not make me heroic. It does not make me a coward. It does not change who I am.

I heard a song today that summed up how powerful a mental illness can be. I'll admit that I have struggled with certain mental illnesses all my life. Believe it or not I am incredibly shy. I overcome this at work by being the extreme opposite. I create this person who is vivacious and chatty. I want to believe that I AM this person. But sometimes I realize I am not.

I don't like crowds or strangers. I don't like my personal space invaded. I don't like being touched. That is the hardest part because it is the thing that I want the most. I want to be touched and be loved. But my OCD kicks in and I can't have a repetitive motion on my skin.

My OCD causes me wasted time. I arrive an hour early for most appointments if I am driving myself. If I'm with another then I am a nervous wreck if we are 15 minutes early. If I'm late...I can't recover for the rest of the day. I expect all appointments to be exactly on time. Not early and definitely not late.

I have severe depression at times when left alone too long and this back injury has moved that depression level into a critical stage. I'm alone most of the day which in turn makes me want to be alone. I love my work. I want to go back. But I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't fit in. That my coworkers, who are my only friends here, will have excluded me. That I won't have friends here anymore.

Maybe you would never guess that this is what I go through. That any whisper automatically makes my mind think they are talking about me. I'm ashamed of my looks. I'm ashamed of my intelligence. It is why I'm signed up for at least 10 classes every few weeks. I feel like I'm dumb and not in contact with the real world.

What I am about to admit is incredibly hard but I know it is a first step. For those of you who will read this, not comment and then talk about it with others...enjoy yourself. You are part of the problem and not part of the solution. If you want to talk to me about it...please do because I need that contact.

For the past few weeks I've been struggling with an unimaginable pain. One that drugs don't seem to alleviate unless they knock me out. I'm alone most of the day and then my daughters come home and seem to just disappear.

I've thought of suicide many times. I haven't progressed to the plan stage which is a very good thing. But the thought is there. Dave won't understand. He will say that it will get better when I get back to work and get around others. He doesn't like personal issues like this. I would call my psych nurse but she will see me for exactly 15 minutes. Prescribe something and then perhaps have me go check myself in to a facility. That really isn't going to be helpful.

There isn't a moment of the day that I'm not isolating myself now. I'm withdrawing from Dave, which in turn hurts him and makes our marriage definitely rocky to the point of it is VERY bad. I love him but we aren't communicating.

My relationship with my daughters is suffering. How can I connect when I think about leaving them and I've justified it in my mind. Don't call me a coward. Don't tell me how much they need me because they don't. I live with them. They need a wallet with cash and a cell phone and perhaps a ride.

Maybe I'll get through this on my own. Maybe I won't and I'll need help. Maybe just posting this will be enough to give me the strength to see past the pain, know that I'll eventually stop being in agony and I'll find my place again in the world.

Facebook Syndrome

Facebook Syndrome AKA Facebook and the Ever Challenging Social Media Life

 

The past 5 days I have been without my cell phone. At first I literally had a panic attack. What will I do? What if something happens and I can't reach someone or they can't reach me? What if a random pizza delivery driver happens to swerve into an oncoming car, thus creating a fiery inferno, and I can't make that important 911 call?

 

Uh...ya. None of those imagined things came to pass and I'm glad, especially the pizza delivery driver scenario, but it did teach me a valuable lesson. I can live without my cell phone. It has become a crutch that I do love to use but it isn't the end of the world.

 

I also came to a realization about Facebook tonight when I was working on some homework for one of the many classes I take to help keep my mind sharp. It is about social media in the workplace. A decade ago you would not have even really correlated the two entities as being related but trust me...they have.

 

Facebook can break friendships, relationships and cause you to question every single thing about yourself. You see these people who lead super happy lives and then you glance around your messy house and sigh. You aren't taking fabulous vacations. You aren't out with your boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/who the fuck ever. You are at home with your cats. You aren't making those fabulous home cooked extravaganzas. You whipped out the cell phone and ordered from your favorite pizza delivery driver (the one whom did not cause a fiery inferno.)

 

These "friends" of yours are all so happy, fulfilled, raking in money and leading good lives and you are left comparing yourself to them. STOP COMPARING YOURSELF. It is mostly a lie. Of COURSE people are going to put the positive things down. Who is going to be realistic (besides me because I'll put down anything but that is just me) and talk about how their joints ache, they can't poop and their spouse is seeing the pizza delivery driver (the one who probably caused the fiery inferno.)

 

Hello, My name is Shonté and I suffer from Facebook Syndrome. Here is my definition for this very real disease.

Facebook Syndrome: someone who has let a social media site dictate their actions and their feelings. Example: Dude, she has Facebook Syndrome written all over her.

 

Now Facebook Syndrome is closely linked to Spasmodic Facebook Syndrome (SFS for short) which is when someone completely spasms because they cannot compete with their neighbor, their friend did not "Like" or "comment" on a post, or they were unfriended. (Did you know that is now a truly legitimate word? Unfriended is now in the dictionary as of this year. Eh...works for me.)

 

Now being Unfriended is a completely different ballgame than keeping up with all those shiny happy people. People who suck by the way and are completely faking it. No one is THAT happy or on uppers about life all the time. No one has a Molly Freaking Sunshine in their lives that is so insanely happy about her life that she gushes all the time and loooooooves her life and loved ones. My answer to her, or him, is STFU capped off with a two fingered salute.

* Yes this is my more edgy one and I'm perfectly fine with cursing. If you aren't then you shouldn't be reading anything by me. *

Being Unfriended can suck. Wait, it does suck. Everyone gets unfriended from time to time. It might be that you are posting too many game updates and queries. It might be that they just don't know you anymore. It may be that they don't like you. I don't know. I periodically go through and clean my list when I haven't talked to the person ever, or in the last few years. Generally I only do it when someone pisses me off though. I even unfriended my best friend once because I was having a mad fit. It's okay because she then blocked me. AND that is DEFINITELY a different topic. That is like being chained outside your favorite store on Black Friday when everything you love is 99% off. (She was off the Christmas Card list until she sent me birthday flowers and we made up. Or maybe it is because I love her.)

Now why am I bringing this up? Oh yeah. Because I recently found out a work friend? acquanintance? person I pass in the hall? someone I know? (I can't think of what really to call her. We didn't talk much but I did think she had kick ass hair.) Well she unfriended me. It was a hit to the pride. Why? What did I do?

Then I just kinda grinned and said, "Oh well." Because honestly I don't know her. We aren't friends. We were friendly to each other but it has legitimately been two months since I've been to work since my back incident. I'll be going back soon and I'm just enough of a sarcastic bitch that I'll mention it. I'm not mad at her and hopefully if she's cool she will just laugh and say something equally bitchy and sarcastic. That's the way to my heart. It's why me and Kat love each other so much.

 

So here is the thing: If I unfriend you then don't be upset because many times I get in a funk and delete people, convincing myself that I'm finally going off grid and going to get rid of Facebook. Other times i just clean out my list so I can see the people I actively talk to on a regular basis. I'm not a friend collector like my daughters.

The lesson here is don't let social media weigh you down. Don't get mad about what is posted but always feel free to write down what you are thinking and saying provided you are willing to stand up to the oncoming backlash, if there is ever one. It is a lesson you should take with you no matter where you go or what you do.

And if you see my pizza delivery driver...tell him I promise to add him to my Christmas Card list. You keep reading my blogs and you will get to be on it too! Maybe even make the cookie list. :)

Goals and Your End Game

Goals

 

The other day I met a very lovely lady on the plane ride from Atlanta to Portland. Before getting into our conversation let me preface it by stating that typically I ignore my traveling companions unless I already know them. I'm not a plane, train, bus or tram chatter. I am just that way. But for some reason I decided to ask about her line of work.

 

You see the woman beside me was an airline attendant and was on her way to Portland, her home based city, after two exhausting trips to Tokyo for her work shift. The only reason I even knew that was because the working attendant had made a passing comment regarding the lady.

 

I started with the casual conversation starter of, "How long have you been an attendant?"

"40 years," she replied, "And I feel every single one of them." She laughed and I laughed because while she was laughing about the length of time that had flown by, I was laughing about Holy Crap! There is no way in Hell I could last even a month.

We talked about her favorite runs. She loves the Asian stops and hates the UAE. But the conversations became deeper. I asked her why she had chosen that particular line of work and one thing led to another and her statement was, "You have to keep your eyes on your goal."

 

That really spoke to me because lately my eyes have become focused on my long term goal once again. I had forgotten what my End Game was going to be and what I hoped it to be. I am certainly not condeming myself for losing sight but I am a bit perturbed regarding this lack of sight. I am tired of floating through day to day. I do understand that I'm limited in what I do and how fast I do it. That was very evident by my trip home.

 

The trips back East to my childhood home were hellish. It took me at least two days to recover the going to Arkansas and it will probably take three now to recover on the return flight. I'm not going to gripe much because the pain was worth the reward of getting to spend times with some very near and dear friends as well as beloved family members. I just wish I had more time. But it always comes down to that. Time.

 

Is Time on my side with my goals? Am I clear on my goals? The older lady sitting next to me was very wise. She talked to me of being given what I can handle and how I should go about handling it. We both agreed on the Buddhist Philosophy and we both agreed in how unfair it was that two women, or two men, could not marry when it is everyone else can. Every single one of you knows my take on homosexuality and the need for equal rights. It isn't about religion. It is about laws and defending rights.

 

As I sat there waiting to de-board I really reflected on that conversation. How many of you have lost sight of your End Game and your ultimate goal? If you have then don't sweat it but do get back on track. If you haven't then get busy on the rungs of the ladder that will lead you to that goal. I know I have. Lately I have been extremely devoted to finishing my novella. It may not be published. Many of you may not like it but it is something that I must do.

Namasté

Loss of Innocence

Loss of Innocence

 

Life is funny and I am definitely one who has learned to find the humor whenever possible. Even when things are grim, the circumstances are tragic...I've always been the one to try to use humor to help lighten the situation. I guess it has always been that way. Don't get me wrong. There have been and are times in my life when I can't find the funny side. Times when I have fallen and felt like I could not get back up. But with the help of friends, family and a strong will that was genetically passed down to me (and learned) I rubbed some dirt on it and moved on.

 

One of the things, or should I say many things, is when you stop being a child. The exact moments when parts of your innocence is lost. For some people a jaded place takes root. For some it becomes a black tarnish on their soul, aura, and very being. It becomes a hated spot deep inside because the blinders come off.

The first loss of innocence, for me, when a very, very close friend was diagnosed with Leukemia as a teen. I didn't understand it and I didn't cope with it very well. I never visited him in the hospital because I could not face the fact that someone not much older was sick. He died and I still was in denial. At the funeral I sat at the back row of a very packed church. I got up and left because I STILL was in denial. There was NO way someone close to my age, that I loved as a friend and spent a great deal of time with.

I realized that people close to you die but it truly had not hit home yet. That came with the loss of my Papa. I worked at the hospital in the kitchen as my college job, and my mom was my boss. He had been admitted. We knew it was bad but I didn't realize how bad until my mom pulled me into her office and told me that the doctor had given him 6 months to live and it was a brain tumor.

I walked into the hallway, saw my big, burly, larger than life, Paul Bunyan Papa in a wheelchair. I broke down crying. One more piece of innocence lost. They took him home and that is where he remained. For about a month I avoided going to visit which was a RARE thing for me. This was the home I had spent EVERY summer, all summer and every vacation and every weekend I could. This is where I went between college classes to hang out, have lunch etc. I had even lived there for a time. I couldn't face the fact that a man I loved so very, very much was leaving me. I was angry. I was SCARED. I didn't know how to talk to someone who was going to leave and never return.

Another piece of innocence was lost.

I finally did muster the courage to face myself and my fears and I went to him. I went into the bedroom, sat down, and started crying. I apologized for leaving him. He wasn't as big. He had already given up. I hadn't deep inside. There was that spark of hope that this was a mistake on the doctor's part. He waited for me to stop bawling, pulled me close to his hospital bed and said, "I understand. I love you." He forgave me for something that to this exact day I have never forgiven myself for. I didn't miss another day with him until he died. I wasn't there when he died though. I had driven home hurriedly to shower and change. He passed while I was not there. Courtney called me and said, "Shon...get back here now." I knew what had happened.

 

Another piece was gone but this time much, much bigger because mortality hit at that exact moment.

 

If my mom had just lost her father, and later her mother, then....I was going to lose them some day. I cried even more at the funeral. I mourned my Papa leaving me. No more creek trips. No more tractor rides. No more rice hauling trips in his big red semi. No more me fixing him lunch. No more watching baseball with him. But I suddenly realized one day I would lose my parents.

That was the hardest piece of innocence I have ever lost.

 

My Granny died years later and I mourned that I hadn't spent more time with her but I lived hours away, had two kids, a husband, a household and a full time job.

 

My father passed away 11 months ago today. For some reason I did not have my phone next to my bed that night before. But I woke up around 4:00 am. I had many missed calls and tons of text messages telling me to call home. I knew what had happened. I called and Courtney said, "Come home now. Dad is gone." My response was, "No. No. No. No he is NOT gone." I crashed to my knees and Dave came running out. I screamed and I cried. I was over 2000 miles away and I had NOT been there again.  I had visited in August and we had talked but once again we had not really had "THE" conversation that hangs over anyone's head who has a terminal illness. I avoided it. I teased him and we laughed. We watched TV together. He hugged me so many times and I never wanted to let go. My larger than life dad was going to leave me but wait! I still had that spark of hope.

 

It hasn't gotten easier. In fact the last 3 weeks have gotten worse. But today the last of my innocence died. I realized that one day I would lose the woman I love the most in the entire world. The woman who I am more like than anyone else. My sister, Sasha,  inherited Dad's demeanor and ability to dazzle people. I told people at his visitation that I got dad's figure and she got his personality. Courtney is mini-Stan except quieter.

 

But me...I get mom. I understand how she works because I work like her, well except physically because that woman gets stuff done. Oh and she cooks better than anyone I've ever known. I love this woman with my entire heart. There is NOTHING I would not do for her. But eventually I will lose her. Part of me is selfish and wants to go before because then I wouldn't lose that part of my heart and soul.

But then I remember a blog I wrote a few months ago. I pray every single night that I NEVER have to bury one of the girls. I could never survive and would not want to survive if I lost them. So I find myself torn between selfishness and knowing someday my heart will break.

 

My mom will read this and probably tell me she will whip my ass for even thinking that thought.

It is a loss of innocence and a conundrum. You know as you start to grow older that your parents begin to get older as well. No one escapes time. No one. Life moves on.

Next month will be the hardest of the 8th's. It will be one year. I will grieve quietly here 2000+ miles from the rest of my family. I am going back, no matter how painful it will be, on Thursday because I have to go back. It will be hard physically. It will be hard mentally. It will be a very short visit because of doctor visits, more tests and physical therapy that I will immediately return to,  but it is something I have to do for myself.

So if you talk to me next month on the 8th...understand if my voice catches and tears come to my eyes. Just nod but don't tell me you understand. Just let me know you are there for me if I need you. Hug me. Pat me on the shoulder.

 

For those that know what I've been dealing with these past 3 weeks or so, and who actually believe me and don't think it's the medicine, I leave you with this:

"Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over...she became a butterfly."

Namasté

A Letter to Other Parents (or Potential Parents)

A Letter to Other Parents (Potential Parents)

 

I have realized, as my daughters have gotten older, that there are three types of parents. Others will argue that this is a blanket statement but they can shut it. If you disagree then prove it. Otherwise I'll stick to my guns on this one. There are three types of parent categories that a parent can unwittingly fall into.

1) The Friend

This is a DANGEROUS category of parenting. It means to know all the details of your child's life and you'll say, do, or be anything they want just to show you are the "cool" parent. You are the parent that lets your kid and her friends drink at home (because it is better to drink at home than out on the road...right?) You let them do whatever they want because you do not want them to dislike you. You're their buddy. You're the parent that attacks other kids, and often encourages it, on social media. You are your daughter's bestie for the restie.

My answer: Fuck that shit. (Excuse the language for those that do not know I cuss like a sailor on shore leave in Bankok) It's okay, to a reasonable degree, to let your child break loose at home on occasion. To let them break the boundaries and be able to tell you the important things. But you do not want to know all the details and you shouldn't. There will, hopefully, come a time when they want to be your friend and can talk to you about the important things. The reality is that no matter how close you think you are to your daughter or son...you aren't. You don't look cool hanging out with them. You look desperate. Remember that mom on "Mean Girls?" That's you. Ya...pathetic. You are a grownup. Act like one and don't try to be the best friend of your child.

2) The Absent Parent

This is the saddest parent of all. I'd much rather see a #1 than this category. This is the parent who just doesn't care what their child does. Or this is the parent that wants to punish all the time simply because they do not want to deal with the kid. They want to live their lives and forget that they have replicas living under their own roof that will someday be the same way to their children unless they are able to break that vicious cycle. This parent doesn't care if the kid drinks as long as they don't get busted because they don't want to take the time to educate the child on waiting and being responsible. This parent is out partying, living life, driving a two seat sports car because they want more for themselves than they want for those symbioses mooching off them at home. They just want them out.

3) The Parents who will get their Heart Broken but eventually have great kids.

This is the category that most, if not all, my friends and family fall into. It is the parents that love their children enough to say "No" and to mean it. These are the parents that will watch their little Tinkerbell grow up into a petulant teen that will lash out and hurt you to your very core. These are the parents that are strict enough that they will eventually hear "I hate you." Teens that will swear you know nothing about what they are going through and that you never listen, that you don't know the pressure they are under or even the slightest detail of their lives unless it is something they have done wrong. Even when the parents can silently list every single boyfriend/girlfriend, class load, friend, etc. These are the parents that will cry at night because they are afraid they aren't doing something right, can't give their children more than they had growing up or that they have lost their children. These are the parents that worry about their child's friends influencing them. They gripe about the kids that want to party because they are afraid of losing their child in an accident. These are the parents that once said, "My child is not going to be that way" and then later have to eat their words. These are the parents that get so mad and frustrated that they call their own parents and apologize for everything they did as teens and say, "You were right and I was wrong." These are the parents that start out with lofty goals of having a prodigy and teaching them the "right" way only to find out that parenting is a learned skill.  There is NOTHING in a book that will prepare you or give you the guidance you need. These parents have to be accommodating and flexible. Things never go as planned.

 

I've met parents in the 1 & 2 category and unfortunately there is nothing you can ever say to make them change their mind. That is their way. I've met some that are so over protective that the children eventually rebel as soon as they are able and become walking/talking terrors to the rest of the world.

 

The point is that there is no happy medium. #3 category is where most people fall. It hurts when your teen becomes her/his own person. It hurts to see them cry over a crush and to experience their first heartbreak but it has to happen. It hurts to see them fail but it has to happen. That is life. Life is about falling and having the will power and courage to stand right up again. "Rub some dirt on it." The greatest thing about being a parent, though, is knowing that no matter what your child does...you will always love him or her. Nothing can ever change it. You may not like them at times, and that is TOTALLY normal. You may want to lock them in a cage...just don't do it because CPS might frown on it but it is totally okay if you want to lock yourself in your bedroom to escape. Don't feel bad about wanting a vacation by yourself. Don't feel bad about needing a night out on the town every once in a while. Don't feel bad about needing that glass (ahem...bottle sometimes) of wine to combat their whine. Get a hobby and don't center your life around your kid's life. Don't limit yourself to friend's that only interact in some way currently, or in the past, with your child. Don't spend every moment of your free time with your child, unless they are a newborn (and even then get some alone time or you'll go freaking nuts eventually).

 

You are going to mess up. You are going to say the wrong thing. You may even lash out and say something you don't mean. All it takes is an apology.

Want to know my secret? I slip notes into my daughters' books for them to find at a later date. Notes that let them know I love them and that I do notice their achievements along with their failures. Notes that mention a certain boy. Notes that remind them of something funny they once did as a little kid. Or they are notes that just let them know how much I love them. Notes are my way of communicating, as evident by the fact that I am far more eloquent writing than in real life. I do my best but I'm learning as I go. And as I've said many times...I may not survive the teen years. Namasté my friends.

 

 

Why Me?

Why me?

Many times when I am doing something else, like let's say...playing Farmville 2 (hey don't knock it. It is an absentminded game where I can actually make something grow) and I begin thinking of something. That something pings around in my mind for a while. It begins to grow and sentences begin to form and I begin to ponder those sentences. Before I know it, that little thing has become something I need to write.

It happens quite a lot with me. This entire setback has had one perk and it is that I came up with a new story. Unfortunately I don't have my laptop so I've been handwriting it and will have to eventually try to decipher my handwriting and put it into a readable format.  It may only make it to a few people, I may submit it, eh...who knows. But it will finally be out of my mind and the voice will be silent. That's how my stories work. I hear a phrase or see a scene and then the characters begin clamoring to tell their story. Sometimes, in the case of Maggie, the story goes silent for a long time. Even when I am being pressured to finish. I just stop hearing her. I still know her story but it isn't time for the rest of it yet. She will eventually pipe up again and this time I'll keep listening until her story is finished.

So back to the title "Why me?" I have been told recently that I am a drama queen. I didn't realize this but hey, give me some slack, I have been in a tremendous amount of pain, isolated almost 20 hours a day and on heavy narcotics with a side shot of enough antibiotics to keep me sufficiently sick most of the time. I'll let that drama queen remark slide. I'm not a pleasant sick person. I don't know of anyone that is and that is okay. When you don't feel good you earn the right to be as icky, bitchy and whiney as you want. Those same people that call you drama queen and roll their eyes are the same ones that tend to be even worse when they are ill.

So "Why me?" This year has been rough on me physically. First I break my big toe in a completely freak, and random, way. No big deal. Then I have to have a total hysterectomy with the big "C" scare. That was a big deal and I had to cope with it emotionally, financially and physically. It took much longer than I thought to bounce back from that one. I'd take one step forward and three steps back. I would feel good and then I'd rip something internally or develop a staph infection. Not good on any front. But I overcame it and thought life was headed down the easy street for the rest of the year.

Then a simple twisted muscle/charley horse feeling lead to immediate spinal surgery. Okay...I start to get better and then I plummet into far worse. The type of worse that makes a world renowned neurosurgeon rush you into surgery on a Saturday night at 10:30. It wasn't until I was out and recovering that I found out how bad it is, and even how rare it is, for someone to develop a full blown infection along their spine and throughout their back.

Who did it? Ya. (Pointing finger at chest.) This girl. Please hold the applause until after the show.

Why me? Why was I the one lying in the hospital bed with a drain pump coming out of my back, writhing in absolute agony? Why had I endured my leg being completely paralyzed and now only partially working when it wanted to work? Why? Why? Why?

This always leads to other "Why's" in life. Why did I move so far from my family and friends? I wanted them more than anything. My mom was coming out in a week but I wanted that to be a well-visit. Not a Shonté can barely move, barely walk and is heavily medicated with gross nylon stitches coming out of her back.

Then came the pity party of "Why's". Those are the best. (I'm saying that completely with a stone cold face so you know that I'm being absolutely sarcastic.) Why did my dad die last November? Why did I feel abandoned by my husband? Why did no one come to visit me? Why was I even on this planet? Why did these things keep happening? Why is my insurance being one gigantic dick?

Today it hit. Why not me? I'm not any more special than anyone else on this planet. Bad things happen to everyone  and there is absolutely NO exception. If you think you are special...sorry cupcake but you aren't. You are not special. You may be unique. You may be interesting.  But you aren't the kind of "SPECIAL" that warrants you a hall pass against bad things happening. No one on this planet is that kind of special.

I've learned it is often a dog eat dog world. I've learned that many people lack empathy. I've learned that it is easy to forget those that are not directly in front of you while you go about your day.

 

The hardest thing I've learned is what loneliness can do to a person.  My father was sick for many years before he passed away last November 8th. Before he became ill to the point he could not look after himself, he stayed by himself. I can tell you now, from personal experience, that it is a living hell. The first day after I was discharged I was so sick I could barely crawl down my stairs. I tried for two hours to boil some eggs to eat anything to take away the nausea from the medications. I could barely stand. I had to rest for every few steps. I dragged myself to the couch and slept for two hours before trying to get anything into me. I struggled to open my medication just to get any relief from the agonizing pain shooting down my spine. I couldn't sit comfortably. I could barely walk. I could not make out my phone enough to text or call anyone. I finally managed to call Dave and he came and made me some soup. I took about three bites and, with his help, got back into bed.

 

I learned since then that loneliness is what kills people. When you want anyone to come sit with you and visit but at the same, very weird time, you begin to NOT want people to see you like that. The days when you do not have the strength to shower and you don't know the day of the week. When walking down the stairs and sitting down is all the power you have and you know you wouldn't be able to visit with them.

My mom coming and helping me was a godsend. She didn't expect me to entertain her, even though I felt guilty that I couldn't. She helped do things around the house. She kept me from trying to do things my Dr would have an apoplectic fit over. She talked to me and she listened. We talked a lot about my dad and what changes had happened in her life.  I sat in awe of my mother and all I could think was how fucking strong this woman is and how she has carried on in a way that I never would have been able. It is coming up on 11 months and I am just barely able to even talk about him without breaking down in tears. Thinking about him has me bawling.

 

Being alone gives you a LOT of time to become a drama queen, throw a huge ass pity party and it allows you to take stock of your life. Even this simple blog today has taken over 12 hours to write. Not because I had to stop and think of it but simply because I can't sit in a chair for more than 15 minutes without the shooting agony to begin. So I get up and I try to walk and when my leg starts to go...I kinda find a weird position on the couch.

Why me? Because I can do it. That is why. This, pffft, this isn't the end of me. It may change how I do things but it isn't changing me in a bad way. It is making me stronger. I KNOW I can take care of myself when I don't think I can, when I'm sick, when I'm weak. I KNOW I can overcome. I KNOW that "Why me" has become a way of thinking that it is simply another hurdle in life. The day you let yourself drown in the "Why me's" and you don't stand up and chuck it under the chin, is the day you lie down and give up. Maybe there will eventually be a "Why me" that does beat me but it isn't today. It isn't tomorrow.

 

If there is anything to take from this blog it is this: any single kindness to someone who is down is one of the greatest things at that moment in his/her life. It is easy to forget when someone is not direct in front of you. When the "Why me?" starts getting you down just remember that you are strong enough to say back, "Why not me? I can take it."

Letter to my Daughters

A Letter to my Daughters

 

Dear Daughters,

I wanted to take a moment and talk to you. Well, not literally talk to you, but more figuratively. Sit down and let me impart a bit of my knowledge. I know you are at the age when you think you have it all down pat but humor me for a bit.

As I was tending the yard, I had an epiphany. Once upon a time I hated doing any type of housework. It all seemed futile. The grass would just grow up again. The dishes and laundry would just pile up. It was a monotony of the same chores over and over each week. I wanted to do something with my life. I wanted to have a fabulous career and be someone special.

Children do not, necessarily, make someone special. There are some fabulously special people in the world that do not have children, either through choice or circumstance. Did you make me special? No. As hard as that is to believe, I do have a life outside of you. But here is what makes me special, and one day I hope it makes you special as well, I developed understanding and empathy.

So here are some lessons I learned that I pass to you. As you know, the 8th of each month is special to me. It is a reminder that life is fleeting but the knowledge and memories you leave behind are monumental and immortal.  My parents, grandparents and friends have left indelible marks on my life. It is especially my parents and grandparents that have left the greatest. My dad left me the ability to stop and think. My mom is showing me, every single day, what true love is and how to be strong when others would crumble.

·         Your job is not what defines you. You define your job. This may seem confusing but it really all comes down to your ethics. Everyone answers to someone. While you may at times think a job is beneath you, it really is not. You are learning something each and every time you go to work. You are learning how to meet new people. You are learning new things. You are learning responsibility. Whether it is flipping burgers or running a billion dollar company...you are defining your job. Never disrespect those individuals you feel are working dead end jobs or service industry jobs. Without them, society would cease to function.

·         Tasks you think are a waste of time...actually do have purpose. I hated doing yard work or housework. Yet I saw my parents enjoy doing them. Why on earth would anyone like getting dirty or cleaning? I understand now. It is a task that has a beginning and an end. It is an accomplishment. Strive for the highest goal you can imagine but keep those small tasks. Each one checked off is an accomplishment. They may not mean much at the time but they will be satisfying later.

·         I am not your friend. A parent makes a horrible mistake the moment they want to be their child's friend. A friend implies that they will understand and encourage certain behavior and, at the same time, tolerate certain behavior. Friend's are not responsible for your actions and are not always going to guide you in the right direction. Get back to me on that when you are in your 20's. I want your respect. I want your trust. But I don't want to be your friend. I don't want to know every single thing you are doing. It would drive me insane. I will later be your friend. I want to eventually be your friend. But we are not at that point in our lives.

·         One day you will experience grief. You do not understand why I cry so much at the loss of my father. The loss of my grandparents. One day I hope you do grieve for me because I certainly do not want to be left grieving for you. That may be selfish of me but a parent's worst nightmare is having to see their child out of this world. From the moment you both came into this world, I was plagued by nightmares of losing you. Every parent has those thoughts. Strike that. Every GOOD parent has those thoughts. The "What If's" drive new parents crazy. I once actually panicked at the thought of a wolf breaking into the house and attacking you. Laugh all you want now but irrational fears are what drives a parent to be protective. My heart breaks when you cry but I never want to have mine broken by losing you. You two mean that much to me. You are my life.

·         Pain is a part of life. There will be times when pain brings you to your knees. When life seems futile and hopeless. Just remember that all things fade with time. The wounds that are raw at the moment will eventually heal and leave a scar. Don't cover the scar. Don't stare at it daily either but make sure you know it is there. It is a reminder that you are alive and will keep fighting back.

These are just a few things that I want you to know. You will make mistakes and that is okay. You will learn. My dad, very often when growing up, would just look at me and shake his head. When I eventually figured it out he would say, "Red, now you are being smart. Use your head." My mom's best advice came to me by watching her and seeing her actions. Her mantra is, "Just get it done." It is simple but extremely powerful and effective.

I love you both and hope one day you will understand what I am trying to say to you. I want you to fulfill your dreams, no matter what they are. There is nothing that you will ever do that makes me not love you. I may get angry at times but I always love and support you. You will stumble. You will fall but hopefully you will have enough of me, your grandparents, your aunts, cousins, and friends, in you that you will stand back up and keep on going.

Love,

Shonté (aka Mom)

Just a little...

It has been a little while since I last posted a blog. It isn't because I did not have much to say. On the contrary, at times I have had too much to say. Life throws us curve balls and often keeps us busy. So much so that you begin to lose track of the moments and it blends into weeks before you have realized that so much time has passed.

It happens to the best of us and often at the worst times. We set out to do something and then, somehow, become distracted with the daily, mundane chores of life. It becomes a cycle of alarm clocks awakening us at dawn, showering and then moving on to work.

Work, in and of itself, is a cycle. You work, take a break, work, take a lunch and then continue on in the same pattern for a set number of days. Each evening you come home, depress and try to relax but your eye remains on the clock. Each tick of the hand reminds you that you need to wind down and get ready for bed so that you can begin a new day.

It is called life.

When I was younger I was always thinking about what lay ahead. When I was 17, all I could think about was graduating and moving on into the life of a grand 18 year old. Then it was my 20's. 21 was a passing day on the radar and wasn't something grand to be celebrated. I had two children by the next roll of the calendar and life then became about watching their age milestones.

As the girls have grown, and I've weathered life, things are starting to shift again. Yes...my days are still ticked off to the sound of a second hand but there are moments now when I stop and think. I ponder the things that really make life meaningful.

At one time I believed that a career is what "defined" who you were. I was wrong.

At one time I believed that money was what brought happiness, and I was only partially wrong, because money allows you the time to enjoy the things that you want. I'll never want a big mansion with luxurious items because I'm pretty dang content with what I have and have never been a cumulative type of person. I just want enough money to easily pay my bills, allow me to put some in savings and still have a recreational "fun" fund.

But back on the subject of time and life. Tomorrow marks 8 months since I last talked to my father. Seeing his marker today, through pictures, brought all things home once again. It hurts. I won't lie. But what struck me the most is that there will eventually be a day that I don't count down each month from the last time I spoke with him. The last time I saw him. And the day he died.

Don't get me wrong. November 8th will always stand out for me just as my parent's anniversary, my father's birthday. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Easter. 4th of July. All of those days become very significant once someone passed on. It is the little things you take for granted previously that suddenly become incredibly important.

Ah...Life. What a fickle bitch she can be. Or a bastard. Whichever gender you prefer works the same as the other.

Life can screw you over if you don't pay careful attention. And attention is what most of us never pay enough due. When is the last time you paid attention to the sun as it beamed through the trees and simply stopped for a moment? I'm not talking about when you are out relaxing or doing something recreational. I'm talking about when you are at your busiest. Such as when you are racing to the car to beat traffic just in order to make it to work with a few minutes to spare.

Sometimes when I am alone at night I wonder when I last looked up and took that moment. That moment when my daughters are trying my patience. That moment when a customer has gotten snippy with me. That one brief opportunity to notice the sun when it counted the most.

I wonder what my coworkers think of me. I probably come off as goofy and silly most of the time. And there is good reason for that. I'm greatly influenced by the emotion around me. I want people to laugh, to be carefree when they have every reason not to be. I want my time with people to be joyful. To some I might seem flighty and superfluous. I'm not by any stretch of the imagination. My mind is constantly analyzing and examining things from many perspectives.

But I learned 8 months ago that time is a precious commodity. One moment you are here and the next you are gone. That's far too much a roll of the dice on such a fickle lady such as Life. I might get bitchy at times. I might become short and be in a foul temper. But those moments do not last long. I've learned that I can only control myself.

I cannot control my family. I cannot control Dave, Kennedy, Maesin or any one else. I can only control my actions and reactions. I still fight my fear of other people. I still am a people pleaser that secretly quakes each time I have to talk to someone else. But I'm not changing. I can adapt and look at the situations in a different light.

Here is an example: I know there are people that dislike me intensely. I cannot change that. I do not want to change that. That is their problem and not mine. All I can do is be me. I may think I'm am the most awesome, super cool chica on the entire planet but there are a few that disagree. (I know that is hard to believe but yes...some people are turned off by my incredibly demeanor.)

I guess the root of all this is this: life is about moments. Moments become the sum of our entire existence. One day I will no longer be here but the moments I share with others will always remain. Somewhere, someone will reminisce with a smile and think about something we shared. One day I will become a reminder on the calendar and that is fantastic. It is fantastic because I will mean something to someone enough that they never forget a special day.

But until then, I will keep reminding myself to be happy. It really is that simple. Count your blessings all you want but it is often by counting the less fortunate things in life that we truly appreciate what we have right in front of us. If you get mad at someone...get over it because ultimately it is your own anger you have to deal with and reign in. Frustrated? Take a deep breath and take a look up at the sunshine as it comes through the trees.

Namasté

ME

A Day in the Life of Me

I’ve had a LOT of time on my hands for the last month, and I’ve done quite a bit of thinking. Who am I? What makes me…well me? How do others view me? How do I view myself? Am I a good person, or someone who simply goes through the motions of appearing good?

These are all legitimate questions, and probably should be questions that everyone asks himself or herself throughout his/her life. In fact, I’d wager, that these are questions that should be pondered a least once a month. It keeps us in check. It keeps us on the greatest adventure ever: life.

So enough about you, let us progress to me! J I’m kidding. I am completely NOT narcissistic in any way, shape or form. I will say that at one time I used to be a spelling whiz, which seems to be a skill that is deserting me lately. So if you find mistakes – live with it. The same thing applies to any grammar skills. That is what editors are for and I’m definitely not an editor.

I perceive myself as: shy, withdrawn, anti-social, problematic, conflicted, and completely consumed with OCD and Anxiety. Anxiety and OCD  to a level that I know exactly how long everything takes and I cannot be remotely close to an appointment time or work time. Even when I do not have a “set” schedule…I still have one set in my mind. It drives my husband and kids nuts. If I’m not at my workplace at least 30 minutes (I prefer an hour) before time to clock in…I’m a nervous wreck. Appointments fare the same. I know exactly how many minutes it takes to walk out my front door and check my mail and come back in. Yeah…that’s how bad it is. The fact that the rest of the world is not consumed by this tedious and draining behavior baffles and irritates me.

My anxiety is pretty bad at times but I’m slowly getting it under control. I realized long ago that emotions trigger my anxiety. When I’m nervous I feel out of control. When I’m confronting someone, big issue or small one, I tense up and my anxiety skyrockets and I cannot control my emotions. I have to completely walk away until I can meditate and bring myself back to a certain level. Fighting sends me spiraling. Don’t get me wrong…I’ve learned to stand up for myself and for others without breaking down but the conversations will eat at me for a long, long time. And once I’m angry with someone it takes a very long time for me to move past it. I get irritated but that passes within minutes, but real anger trigger events will NEVER be forgotten and take me a while to get past.

Anti-social: I think that I’m very anti-social. Around people that I know, and like, I can relax and kinda be myself. Large groups make me extremely nervous. New people make me very nervous and I often keep very quiet. People who really know me are shocked that my motor mouth can remain zipped tightly. That’s another thing that bothers me…I can’t stop. I don’t like dead silences when I’m around others. I fidget and move constantly. When I’m at home, work or anywhere besides my bed reading, I am in constant motion doing about three other things at the same time. Watching a movie at home without doing other things…almost impossible. Dave is a sit quietly, speak when he needs too or absolutely must, and hates interruptions during television shows and movies. He uses the pause button quite a lot in our household.

My life has never been smooth. It seems to be marked by constant struggles, strife, happiness, sadness and confliction. But I’m learning that is what life is about. People who say their life is constantly great and they LOVE LIFE at all times are hiding what is really going on. They want to give the appearance that they have the perfect life. It is a defense mechanism. I’m definitely not like that. My life is pretty much an open book. Some chapters are humorous, some are sad and some are quite dark. There are also chapters sealed up because I don’t want to revisit those. It is why I do not read past journal entries. There is no point in reliving the past. I have, hopefully, learned from it and moved on.

So am I a good person? What makes me…me? I think I am a good person. I do suffer from anger, irritation, jealousy at times, and sometimes I’m completely not observant. I doubt my faith and my beliefs almost daily. I don’t need affirmation though and that is a bit weird. I am who I am. I do try to better myself through learning, watching others and listening. There are very few things said or done around me that I don’t pay attention to and log in my brain. There are, however, many times when my brain completely fogs out and I don’t remember a thing. Most of my childhood, teens and even up to my early 30’s are in the fog. Not through drugs! But through just moving on and putting them in the mental closet.

I’m a wanderer and a gypsy. I love visiting new places and I’ve moved a WHOLE lot in my life. I don’t always want to move but circumstances have forced those moves. It makes me feel horrendously guilty for my daughters but at the same time I see the strength it has given them. They are outgoing, unique and not uncomfortable in new situations. Up’s and down’s do not seem to bother them in the least for more than a week or so. That is a great thing. For people to feel “sorry” for me and my daughters really, REALLY pisses me off. Don’t take pity on me for your inability to get out and see the world. Don’t feel “Sorry” for me because you can’t leave the pond for the ocean. There is so much world to explore and so many new, great people and adventures to be had. I want my eulogy to be read proudly and my friends to say, in awe, “She was an adventurer. She constantly strove to see and do new things and wasn’t afraid of the unknown.”

As for ponds…I sometimes miss my hometown. It is small, it is diminishing and it is comforting at the same time. It will always be my first home but it isn’t for me. I could never go back and live there. I wish I could see my family and friends more often but living there would kill my spirit. It would destroy everything that makes me…me. I’ve visited a few times since moving and after about 2 weeks I am very ready to get on the plane and come home. This is my home. Oregon will not be the last place I move too. There are other great cities that someday I want to call my home. My home comes with me to all of these new places.

To wrap this up: I don’t know how others perceive me. I like being in my own space and I retreat there often. I shouldn’t all the time but it brings me comfort. I am trying to get out more and experience more that life has to offer. I stand in my yard, in parking lots, on trails, on the beach and just take in the beauty that surrounds me. I’m always in awe that this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Mountains capped by snow all year round. The Pacific Ocean with its huge, crashing waves that seem to make the world stop. The forests with trees taller than I’ve ever seen but surrounded by lush ferns, bushes that stay green and a silence that rings down to your soul. Rivers that seem so fast and wide flowing over huge falls and surrounded by adventurers staring with reverence.  I go downtown to watch people walk, bike and even sleep near me. They each have a story to tell and I try to think of what their story is and how it has played out in their lives. I look at the incredible architecture while I munch on one of the best doughnuts in the US. I peer, peep and fondle books in a bookstore that is as big as a city block.

That’s my life and who I am. I guess I’m an adventurer, of a sort, that never ceases moving.