Choose Your Battles

As I mom, I am quite familiar with the phrase "choose your battles," and I try to remember that and to choose wisely with a fifteen-year-old daughter and a seven-year-old son.  However, when it comes to myself, I don't choose wisely.  I choose the option of least resistance because that is what I figure will afford me some peace in my world.  Basically, I choose to be the people pleaser.  I choose to please everyone else around me so that I will not make waves.  I always back down because I feel guilty.  I feel guilty for what; putting myself first, putting my mental health first and putting my well-being first.  

I am on year four of doing this, being the people pleaser, and it has gotten me nowhere positive.  It has gotten me to a spot of constant anxiety for months on end until I hold my breath and hope the holidays pass without too much bloodshed.  Yet, come January I always notice that there was, in fact, the bloodshed that I was trying so desperately to keep away, except I was the only one seeing it because it was only on me.  By not putting myself first out of fear of hurting others, I am damaging myself.  

I think that this is the year I put me first; the fourth year.  I still see guilt in my future, but taking care of myself and my well-being only helps myself and the people that live in my house.  I can stop beating myself up inside and stop taking my anxiety out on the ones that live with me daily.  It really is not fair to take my issues out on the people that love me and only want to help me be happy.

I listened to a song this morning on my way into work that I've listened to at least three dozen times over the past couple of months, and the kids can attest to it as we sing all the songs all the time when they come on, but this one stuck out this morning.  It made me sad because I realized that it is time for me to stand up for myself and my feelings because I cannot walk around with the constant anxiety and fear for another year.  

This is about half the song, the parts that mean the most to me, the words that resonated within my head bouncing between my ears over and over again until I came to my sad realization that I need to put my well-being first and it hurts to do so despite it being the very right thing to do:

If you decide to live by, what you think's wrong and what's right
Believe me you'll begin to wish you were sleeping
Your weeping will creep in your head and you'll cry
But if we wake up every morning and decide what we believe
We can take apart our very heart and the light will set us free

How frustrating and so degrading
His time, we're wasting
As time will fly by and the sky will cry as light is fading
And he is waiting, oh so patiently
While we repeat the same routine as we will please comfortability
Please don't think about why you can't sleep in the evening
And please don't be afraid of what your soul is really thinking
Your soul knows good and evil, your soul knows both sides
And it's time you pick your battle, and I promise you this is mine

- Isle of Flightless Birds; Twenty One Pilots

Since I cannot bring back the past of holiday fun and laughter and good cheer, I will conquer the demons within myself and hope that people can understand I am not out to hurt them but to heal myself from the hurt that is still sitting inside my mind and my chest.  I will do my very best to remember that I cannot control the way people react to the things I say and do, but that I am in complete control of how I react to the reactions of others.  I need to remember that no matter how difficult it can be at times because this is what my mind and soul need.  

It is time to face this anxiety as it is not going to get any better by ignoring it.  I wish "normal" was what I am, but it is not.  I have accepted that and must move forward with it.  Wish me luck.

*cheers*

Choose Your Battles

As I mom, I am quite familiar with the phrase "choose your battles," and I try to remember that and to choose wisely with a fifteen-year-old daughter and a seven-year-old son.  However, when it comes to myself, I don't choose wisely.  I choose the option of least resistance because that is what I figure will afford me some peace in my world.  Basically, I choose to be the people pleaser.  I choose to please everyone else around me so that I will not make waves.  I always back down because I feel guilty.  I feel guilty for what; putting myself first, putting my mental health first and putting my well-being first.  

I am on year four of doing this, being the people pleaser, and it has gotten me nowhere positive.  It has gotten me to a spot of constant anxiety for months on end until I hold my breath and hope the holidays pass without too much bloodshed.  Yet, come January I always notice that there was, in fact, the bloodshed that I was trying so desperately to keep away, except I was the only one seeing it because it was only on me.  By not putting myself first out of fear of hurting others, I am damaging myself.  

I think that this is the year I put me first; the fourth year.  I still see guilt in my future, but taking care of myself and my well-being only helps myself and the people that live in my house.  I can stop beating myself up inside and stop taking my anxiety out on the ones that live with me daily.  It really is not fair to take my issues out on the people that love me and only want to help me be happy.

I listened to a song this morning on my way into work that I've listened to at least three dozen times over the past couple of months, and the kids can attest to it as we sing all the songs all the time when they come on, but this one stuck out this morning.  It made me sad because I realized that it is time for me to stand up for myself and my feelings because I cannot walk around with the constant anxiety and fear for another year.  

This is about half the song, the parts that mean the most to me, the words that resonated within my head bouncing between my ears over and over again until I came to my sad realization that I need to put my well-being first and it hurts to do so despite it being the very right thing to do:

If you decide to live by, what you think's wrong and what's right
Believe me you'll begin to wish you were sleeping
Your weeping will creep in your head and you'll cry
But if we wake up every morning and decide what we believe
We can take apart our very heart and the light will set us free

How frustrating and so degrading
His time, we're wasting
As time will fly by and the sky will cry as light is fading
And he is waiting, oh so patiently
While we repeat the same routine as we will please comfortability
Please don't think about why you can't sleep in the evening
And please don't be afraid of what your soul is really thinking
Your soul knows good and evil, your soul knows both sides
And it's time you pick your battle, and I promise you this is mine

- Isle of Flightless Birds; Twenty One Pilots

Since I cannot bring back the past of holiday fun and laughter and good cheer, I will conquer the demons within myself and hope that people can understand I am not out to hurt them but to heal myself from the hurt that is still sitting inside my mind and my chest.  I will do my very best to remember that I cannot control the way people react to the things I say and do, but that I am in complete control of how I react to the reactions of others.  I need to remember that no matter how difficult it can be at times because this is what my mind and soul need.  

It is time to face this anxiety as it is not going to get any better by ignoring it.  I wish "normal" was what I am, but it is not.  I have accepted that and must move forward with it.  Wish me luck.

*cheers*

Winter Blues Already

I'm getting antsy at this point in time due to this dreaded time of the year that it is.  I used to adore Fall, and while I am still in love with it, the dread is just hovering underneath the surface ready to kick me square in the face, and my nose is too cute to get punched.  

I used to ride out the winter month to month, you know, once Halloween is over I would do it in terms of the following: 

Okay, April, here we go.  *smacks own ass*  Come on, girl, you got this.  You just need to get through Thanksgiving, and then there is the Christmas preparation  that will keep you busy and here comes the Day After Christmas Deflation, but wait, you won't have too much time to think about that depression shit because hold on, here we go with the random week, week and a half of binge eating and binge drinking and random days off of work because Christmas and New Years falls oddly on the calendar some years, but now it's time to get back into the flow of things with the "after-holiday-depression," but wait, there's more, what, with the stupid Hallmark holiday and then it's so close to St. Patrick's Day (which I don't celebrate as it just gets used as a season marker you see), and then holy shit, I made it into April and it's almost Spring again. I'll look back upon the girl who weathered the storm, so to speak, and see if my shorts will still fit after the Winter we just had.  

If you are the person who falls into the above run-on sentence scenario, I hope you feel better knowing you are not alone.  However, this year, I'm scared shitless.  There were more moments than I care to admit last winter that were completely touch and go.  I honestly didn't think I was going to make it through.  Come to think of it, based upon my actions, I don't believe I made it through "whole," and if we are being honest, there's not much left of me to spare as far as what I can afford to lose as a "whole."  I'm afraid that come next March/April, I'll be feeling somewhat like that "hat" part of the acorn that's left on the ground to dry up and get stepped on after the acorn has fallen out of it.  

At least this year I am equipped with the knowledge that if I'm lucky, I might make it out with my sanity only slightly shattered so I have decided that I will prepare now for what I can only assume will be yet another never-ending-please-let-me-make-it-out-alive winter.  Like today, for example, let's start there.  It is absolutely gorgeous out right now.  It's only 3:00 p.m., and I know by 7:00 p.m. I will be in a hoodie, but I'm so looking forward to taking the kids to the playground,  having a picnic, hitting up the library for new books (and pay that $8.50 fine I have from overdue books...I really have to get my shit together on that one) and go home just as the sun is just about set.  I'll feel really good about the couple of short hours I was able to grab with the weather and the kids.  

I'm also forward-thinking in terms of what kinds of indoor activities can I make a list of for when we are all going stir-crazy and I've had it up to my eyeballs in Lego sets.  I don't have too many just yet.  I've got the gym because, well, my ass needs it and they have daycare there.  There's also the indoor trampoline park that Andrew likes, but that makes me pee my pants when I jump so I'll just take voluminous pictures and videos of him jumping.  And that about sums that shit up, and therefore, this is where you come in with any and all ideas of wintertime fun for us.  My 14 year old daughter, I'm sure, won't give a rat's ass about what we do or don't do because, well, she's got her IPhone and YouTube.  However, I'll admit that while I want to keep this 6-year-old of mine busy, I really need these ideas to keep my sanity.

So please send along your ideas.  However, please be advised that while everything you offer me is a great idea, the following is a list of things I will not consider so please don't try to convert me:

1.    ANY AND ALL THINGS OUTSIDE IN THE COLD AND SNOW.

I'll throw the boy out in the snow but I'll stand at the door and hide behind a Bailey-laced coffee, wearing my footsie pajamas, shivering while watching his nose get red and run snots down the front of his jacket and silently beg him to come inside and snuggle with me and watch Netflix.  I just shuddered so please help a desperate mama out.

In the meantime, I'm going to go check out the menu online for the pizza joint next door to the playground because I declare this afternoon to be Pizza Playground Picnic Afternoon.   I'll be drinking wine this evening while looking over all the ideas I know you guys have for me.  I have faith in  ye readers.

*much love*

The Great Tumble of 2015

There's been quite a bit of stuff going on in our household, but for the moment, let's talk about the big upset of the summer shall we. 

There was that broken wrist of mine from a dumb ass fall that happened hiking and that required surgery resulting in two months out of work.  The most ridiculous thing people said to me had to be, "Well, you couldn't have picked a better time to break yourself."  That line is up there in the Top Ten Stupidest Things to Say to People list.  I think it rivals the thing people from the south say to people up north, "Oh, I just love snow."  No, no you don't love snow.  You have no idea what really living with snow looks like.  It's not snow forts and four wheeling.  Just like a broken wrist in a splint in June and July not working doesn't look like endless days of beaching it or swimming in the pool.  It's pretty much my arm sweating and itching and me being frustrated with not being able to do a damn thing except cry when I can't put my bra on or cry when I finally can put the bra on.  It's the little things, folks.

It also doesn't look like my house is spotless because I have all the time in the world to clean it.  I couldn't even do laundry for weeks because my orthopedic doctor got mad at me when I told him I was excited I could lift the laundry basket.  He actually went slack jawed and asked why I would do such a thing, to which I replied with tears in my eyes, "Because I need to do SOMETHING," to which HE then replied, "Do your physical therapy."  Oh, the defeat because, damn it all, I WAS doing my physical therapy.  To this day, I can't hear the X-Files theme song play without thinking, "Oh, hey, it's my alarm going off yet again reminding me to do my therapy.  It sounds awesome to some being given the go-ahead to do jack shit for two months, but not for this girl who has almost no clue what it is like to sit still.  I sat still for so long that at one point I got hooked onto Teen Mom 2 (yes, yes, it did, in fact, come back) and Catfish.  That was in July, and it is now September and guess who is DVRing Catfish and Teen Mom 2 at this moment?!  FFS I make myself all rumbly tummy thinking about how ridiculous I am.  I blame the broken wrist, damn it all.

It also doesn't look like I got myself into any sort of shape because while it may seem like I could spend countless hours at the gym while the kids were at summer camp, it didn't really happen that way.  It kind of looked like what I would imagine the exact opposite of some celebrity reality show looks like; poor mom with no make up skills struggling to put on a sports bra while one-handedly pouring Fruit Loops into a bowl while some falls on the floor while trying to make a sandwich for camp lunch with one hand while my kid may or may not have brushed his teeth because who the hell has time to follow up on that shit while everything takes twice as long to do because, fuck it, I'll just wear a hat because I can't even put my hair up in a ponytail and then I thank heavens that my kid is somewhat independent and can put his own seatbelt on and sure let's drive that stick shift of a car with one hand because that's always safe, and then drag his ass into camp, sign him in, kiss him and hug him and get back in the car sweating.  Now this is the part where I laugh to myself and think, yeah, sure, I'll get to the gym and put in hours upon hours working out just to get there, find myself completely exhausted from the morning new routine, stay an hour, if that, and go home and fall asleep on the couch.  No one ever informed me that breaking a bone required so much internal energy that to even do normal, every day routine stuff would send one out over the edge of exhaustion.  Seriously, I had zero clue healing would require so much energy.  I consider myself strong, but damn, my poor boyfriend and all the tears he had to witness.  It makes me want to bake him a cake in appreciation, but I'll more than likely just buy it for him because I am still a lazy fucker more often than not.

So let's recap; basically, my summer was not filled with days of laying out tanning (I would just burn anyways, and I would have a horrible white patch where my splint was), a clean house and a loss of 20 pounds.  However, it was a teaching moment in my life.  It seemed that while I was going through the process it was never ending, and once it was time to go back to work, I felt like I didn't take enough advantage of the extra time with my kids.  I feel like there was so much more I could have done with my time off, but in reality, there wasn't.  I did the best I could with the limitations I was given.  I spent extra time with the kids that I normally wouldn't have been given.  I threw a kick ass birthday party for the boy.  I got to see Jillian transition from a camper to a counselor in training.  I eventually got to get caught up on laundry because, despite the scowl I got from my surgeon, I wasn't going to let no stinkin' laundry basket get the better of me.  I did end up painting some of my living room, which I will never do ever again, broken wrist or not.  Most of all, the most important thing I learned is that no matter what happens to me, I will continue to move forward to the positive and that when there never seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel, my house is filled with people that love me and have my back and will help hold me up through all of it.  Maybe I will make that damn cake after all. 

Bucket Lists and Anxiety

I should be fast asleep, but my arm won't let me.  Just when I think I have a hold of my anxiety, something takes a tighter hold and creates the wormhole I try to avoid...daily.

The older I get the more often I hear about bucket lists.  I think they're stupid.  I mean if you want to go somewhere, do something, make an impact in your world or someone else and their world, why in the hell do you need to put it on a piece of paper in list form and cross it off as you go?!  It strikes me odd that I think this way as I am a list maker, a line crosser-offer if you will.  I like to accomplish things, tasks big and small, things that matter to others, things that matter only to myself.  I wish not to travel to all these far away places to make me feel as if I have meaning in my life.  The things that matter most to me in this world are family and friends and the smiles I put on their faces or the hands that I hold during turmoil, the hugs that I give for no reason, the bridges I help cross or help me cross...these are the things that make my life feel fulfilled.

I think about the people in my "real world" and the people in my "online community," and I find that the only difference in "real" and "online" is defined by those who I have hugged and those who I have not.  My online friends are just as real as my daily friends; I want to hug each and every one of them equally and thank them for being a part of my world in whatever way it is they are here.  My group of real world friends is about as small as my group of online friends.  That is just how I work; I would rather have a small group of people to hold in my hand and give my heart to than to spread it all around to just anyone.

So in my state of anxiety and my inability to sleep I start thinking about my people, my small group of people who I love without question.  I am having a real hard time being out of work right now because I am part of a team at work.  I enjoy being part of that team, and all my work is falling upon one person at the moment.  She is my friend, and I can't even begin to thank her for not once thinking poorly of me (or at least letting me know she's thinking poorly of me) and not for one second dropping the ball.  She has picked up where I suddenly left off without warning.  I know she is thinking exactly like I do; you have to do what you have to do to keep the team going.  I love her for that and for so many more reasons than I have time for.  

I am so grateful for all the behind the scenes check-ins I've been receiving.  I'm so very loved, and I didn't really realize how very loved I am.  I mean I "know" I'm loved, but when someone checks in on you that you haven't talked to in months, you kind of give pause and an extra thank you for the person(s) reaching out to you.  I can't begin to name every person that has meaning to me because if I start a list that so many of you love to do, it becomes overwhelming and so long.  I also know I would surely leave someone out and then I would feel like an asshole, and I already feel like an asshole more often than not so I won't intentionally do it to myself.

Back to the bucket list I started talking about, and not to sound melancholy and sorry for myself, but rather just trying to keep it real, my bucket list does not hold places I want to go to, but rather people I want to go to and hug, people that after I hug them I want to be shown what their town is like, what their world holds for them, the people that they call family and friends.  One of my biggest fears is loving these people from afar, having relationships with them and growing old never being able to hug them, knowing so much about them but never being able to see their smile in front of my face.  

I don't really have any desire to leave the States (except to head to Australia for that one special dollface).  My desire is to meet and stand for a moment in the world of the people I consider my friends.  My bucket list isn't very long for as I mentioned earlier I keep my group small.  However, I fear I won't be able to see those faces that mean so much to me.  I have no idea where to start or how to start to get to those faces which I suppose is what is keeping me up tonight, which I have to tell you is a bugger of a thing right now.  I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow, and all I can do is think about the people I care about.  

If I haven't thanked you lately for extending a hand or a kind word to me, please know it is not because I have forgotten about it but simply because there are not enough hours in the day to send everyone love all at once.  Thank you for being the laugh I need at the exact moment I need it, the swoon in my heart when I didn't realize I was looking for it.  You all should know by now the way I get through shit is by finding the humor in it, and I thank you for being the exact amount of humor and love at just the right moments.

Regrets

We all have them.  We all have tons that we openly admit to others.  We have some darker ones that we keep to ourselves.  We have maybe one or two that we share with a close someone.  Shit if I don't have a half a dozen to two dozen regrets.  I regret making out with my girlfriend because she ended up being a piece of shit.  I regret cheating on Chris Vincent because he really is a good, solid dude.  I regret flirting with that guy behind the bar that one time because I got too drunk and puked all over my shoes.  See, who doesn't have at least a few regrets hidden and tucked away for rehashing from time to time.

 

Some of us are lucky enough to have that one regret that plays over and over in our minds until it drives us stark raving mad or at least super extra uncomfortable that we tuck it away for another time to dust off and drive ourselves crazy with.  I have one of those, and it's kind of a doozy.  Although, to be fair, whenever one says that, it is, in fact, a doozy to them.  It's my doozy, not your doozy, but it doesn't make it any less shitty. 

 

 

I miss my dad.  I remember the defining moment like it was this morning.  He called my house, and I told my then-husband to tell him to fuck off.  I told him to fuck off because I thought I was doing the right thing; having another family member's back.  I mean, hell, he hurt that family member really bad so I was informed.  It was only my civic duty as a family member to stand by this person through thick and thin, no matter the consequences.  I guess I never really did give any thought to the fact that he might not be there the next day to accept my apology should I ever find it in me to offer him. 

 

 

I have never in my life felt such remorse for being such a piece of shit to my father as that moment.  I relive that moment just about once every other month.  It doesn't sound like a lot, but when it hurts so bad you cry in your car on the way home from work because you don't want anyone to know what a fucking asshole you feel like, then, yeah, it's often enough.  I wish to my very soul that I had taken that phone call.  I do not believe that he would still be alive this evening because of that.  I just believe that I would have been able to have a couple more months of added memories with my dad.  I am so much like him that sometimes I get angry, but then when I take a minute to think about why he acted the way he did sometimes growing up, and because I am a mom now, I almost fully understand why he reacted the way he did. 

 

 

I didn't have my dad's back at an incredibly crucial time.  In fact, I didn't even need to have anyone's back per se, but yet I took sides, I stood a ground that wasn't mine to stand on.  I regret it once every other month, in my car, on my way home from work.  I won't do it again.  You can't walk a fine line without consequences however, and that is why I won't walk that line.  I've chosen the path on which I walk; the path with not the greatest of outcomes, the path with some shitty consequences.  I will continue to choose sides because you walk this earth as a line walker or a back sider.  This time, I choose me. 

 

I miss my dad.  He deserved so much better than I gave him.  It's up to me to forgive myself for the way I treated him.  Maybe this is the beginning of that self-forgiveness.  I will do for me and mine what I need to do even if it hurts others' feelings in the process.  My only intention is to keep the happiness I have found and helped create close to my heart.  Not everyone is allowed in.  It's my turn to have my own back.  I apologize if some aren't allowed to follow.

The Best Year

I never know how to start these things.  I go for months without writing in text.  I write constantly in my mind, but something always gets in the way.  It's life because that's what always gets in the way.  The difference between when I used the word "life" a couple of years ago and when I use the word "life" now is something I'm not able to put into words that could describe the difference enough.  I don't even know that I could come close to touching the differences.

 

I'm sitting here in front of this screen a day and a half before Christmas with the gratitude that a mom of a newborn feels when grandma and grandpa suddenly announce they'll take the baby overnight.  I often feel like I'm going to blow this good shit I have going on by doing or saying something wrong.  I often get my breath taken away from me at times like this when I'm sitting with utter quiet reflecting upon the goodness that I've been allowed to have.

 

I've had some difficult times; some I've shared with people and some I have not.  I've had more than my fair share of self-doubt, and I know I've said some things I can't take back or thought some things that I hope to hell don't come true.  All those times I have joked about being the reason I have a kid in therapy has come true, and I can openly admit how very grateful I am to have some amazing people in my corner.  I have some serious thank you cards to write to some amazingly wonderful and attentive teachers and guidance counselors, for without them I do not believe my daughter would be as well off as she is.  I always thought I was on top of her and was one step ahead of her.  I have been schooled once again.  Although, I am reminded again and again what an amazing child I have and what a kind soul she has and what a loving creature she is.  I'll take the good with the bad if at the end of the day I can say, yes, that is my daughter and she has a beautiful soul.

 

I have a kindergartener, and he is a boy.  I have a five-year-old boy.  Yes, yes, I do, and yes, that boy does growl at me more often than not lately, and yes, that boy does Hulk-it-up more than I would like, but that boy also looked at me tonight and Eskimo kissed me with that little freckled nose of his and kissed me for no reason at all.  That's a lie; we went out for pizza, but screw you if you think I won't take that as a win.  I also have a boy who has dealt with more than his fair share of bullshit than he should have to deal with.  He is, after all, a big bother.  I never expected, nor wanted, him to be a big brother.  I loved knowing he was a great little brother who had an amazing big sister.  I've had to come to terms with this in my own way, and while I may be struggling some days, this boy is doing much better than his 40-year-old mom.  I'll take the good with the bad if at the end of the day I can say, yes, that is my son and he has a beautiful soul.

 

I have this friend who recently said something to me along the lines of my year has had a storybook ending.  That line has had me smiling since I read it because, while I know it hasn't been without its struggles, I do, in fact, have as close to a storybook story as I can have.  There is no storybook ending because, as cheesy as it sounds, it's still going.  I'm still writing that story, and I have plenty of empty pages to keep filling.  The man in question is currently laid up in bed while I write this, and he has had a very long hospital day, but just like my mom instincts kick in with my kids, it kicked in immediately with him.  I always knew I would take good care of him, but the mom inside me is an amazing being.  She took over without giving me a chance to say a word.  She is a pretty amazing chick.  I'm grateful for the hurting human being in our bed.  It gives me another chance to take care of him and to thank him for willingly walking into our lives and making it so that I know what happy really means.

 

I can say that I am really and truly looking forward to this upcoming year.  I'm realistic and know that there will be downs to go with the ups, but I am ready for them.  I've made it through some shitty moments.  This year hands down has shown me that all the dark hallways have the capability of leading to amazing roads that cross paths with some pretty amazing people.  I do hope I am not jinxing myself by saying any of this out loud.

 

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Much Love, Much Happiness, Much Strength from me to you,

April...