Okay so time to be 100% up front and honest about what is going on in my head....
I am dealing with depression. I have been denying this issue for a while (always had something else to blame it on). But with brain injury treatment over, hysterectomy over, house drama over, what is left is now undeniable. I do my best to find distractions and find ways to keep me going. Dancing and Burlesque are huge helps. But in the last couple of weeks (post Marathong) I have been really feeling it. I felt it in the weeks leading up to Marathong, but once Marathong was over and even after the Bernie rally and Caucus, I was just spent and it has really hit me.
Part of the "let down" I am feeling may be the over stimulated brain feeling I get after working hard and not giving myself enough brain breaks. I recognize the symptoms. I have made quite a few mistakes while ordering things on line, or even while I'm diving. One day, I went out to the car to go somewhere. I sat down in the car, put my seat belt on and went to put the keys in the car only to find out that I left my keys and my purse in the house. There are lots of signs that I am working the brain harder and not giving it enough time to rest. In an effort to relax my brain, I sit on the couch and do nothing but watch TV (which I know is not REALLY resting my brain). I need complete brain shut down for it to help.
Anyway, whatever the case, I *feel* depressed. I do have happy pills that were prescribed to me during all of the house drama directly after my hysterectomy. I felt better so I stopped taking them. Apparently I still need them. I just keep forgetting to take them, and lets be honest, I'm not a huge fan of pills (no matter what they are..that's how I got pregnant with Nick.) Mostly I just keep reminding myself of the things I have to be grateful for and I do my best to keep myself distracted with creative things. I have a big burlesque show in April to prepare for; I need to really start focusing on that. That should help. I also have a routine to choreo for a show hoping to do in May. Then there is all he belly dance stuff I need to be ready for. It's not like I don't have stuff to do or focus on. But the "not wanting to do it" is what tells me that I am feeling depressed.
So there is that little tidbit of honesty. I didn't say that for a pitty party; just finally admitting it in hopes that it will help me feel better :).
I also had a realization in the last couple of days. I have been talking about the arthritis in my knee and the possibility of surgery. I have been talking about not being able to do things (like run) because of my knee. I have also mentioned that I can still do other things like dance, ride bikes, go to the gym, all sorts of things (even though it still hurts). I mentioned how I have started to move like my mom moves with her arthritic knees, and yes, that bothers me. And then it dawned on me. My knee *just* has arthritis in it. The pain is not due to a torn muscle or anything broken. It is *just* arthritis. Unless I go running or jumping on a hard floor, nothing I do is going to make my knee worse. Yes, there will be pain, but it won't get worse. HOWEVER, by NOT doing anything, health can and will get worse and I will end up like my 78 year old mom, and I'm only 47. That is not where I want to be. So back to the gym!!!! I will do what I can do to build my leg muscles and keep them strong. I will do what I can to increase my range of motion and flexibility. I will work though the pain. If I do indeed need to have a knee replacement, weak muscles will only make that healing process much more difficult. I need to be strong in order to live my life. I can't just sit around and wait for arthritic pain to go away. I need to live my life with it! I am stronger than that!
So I have spent 2 days in a row at the gym. Yesterday, I did 30 minutes on the recumbent bike and then another 30-45 minutes doing free weights for my upper body, some wall sits, brides, leg raises, clams for my knee/quad specific PT and I threw the 6# medicine ball at the rebounder 50 times (for anger management). Today I spent 40 minutes on the elliptical followed by a round of leg presses for more knee/quad rehab. Then there is all of the dancing I do. But the gym is what is important. I also want to start getting out to do some hiking here soon. Nothing crazy steep, but some gentle climbs will be good for my quads.
The struggle is real. The pain in my knee is real. The depression is real. However, being an active participant in my life and reaching my goals and doing things that make me smile are just as real! I have so much to be grateful for. I have so much to look forward to. And I have so many positive things to do in this present moment. So yes.. even if the the struggle and pain are real... so is gratitude, creativity and love!
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Mach 26, 2016 The Kind of "Old" I Want To Be
I have never really lived in a neighborhood that had a great deal of Chinese people living there. For the most part, ethnic diversity in my neighborhoods could be summed up by 3 different cultures: African American, Mexican, and Indian. (Granted in South Florida, there was a whole slew of different cultures, but we only lived there a few months.) So the very first time I went to China Town in San Francisco and saw a large group of people practicing Tai Chi in the public park, I was mesmerized. These were not "young" people. The elders of China Town amazed me. Not just the ones in the park practicing Tai Chi, but all around town. They were strong, healthy and vital.
Once I left China Town, I didn't give it much thought.
My mom has always been a force to be reckoned with. I remember being in junior high and my mom was in her early 40's and she was playing softball with the high schoolers and young adults of our church. She walked 5 miles a day just for a stroll. She wore us out in England and I had to beg for a day off of touring just so I could rest. She was constantly on the go. Even as she was in her 60's going into he 70's she was working out with a personal trainer three times a week and in the gym 6 days a week and she was taking regular Zumba classes (not the senior citizen kind). At nearly 70 years old, she could spend an entire day at Disney World and not blink an eye. She was inspiring!
Life took a turn. My dad died. My mom started hanging out with a man who was not as active as she was. Mom fell a couple of times and broke her elbow and hip. She had a couple of surgeries. She had a hip replacement. And things just didn't really get a whole lot better for her. The arthritis in her knees has gotten so bad, it is very had for her to get up out of a chair or in and out of her car. She has lost range of motion in her arms. She can't walk a quarter of a mile without needing to rest. She tells me, "I never thought I would FEEL this old." She gets discouraged, "I don't want to be walking around with a cane and/or walker like the rest of the people in my apartment complex." My mom is now 78 yeas old. She is back in the gym doing her best to keep moving and stay strong.
I watched her get on and off he recumbent bike. She has to lift her legs with he hands to get her legs over the machines. To get out of a chair and some of the exercise equipment, she has to rock back and forth to get the momentum to get her up on her feet. And I see it. I see the resemblance of motions I am doing now in order to compensate for my left knee that I been seeing the doctor about. There are many times, I am pulling my leg up because the pain to move it on its own is just too great. And I realize that by doing this, I am losing muscle in that leg. It is a vicious circle. My mom was NOT like this at 47 years old. But I am. And it would be a lie to say that it doesn't scare me a bit.
So today, I was driving home from breakfast, and I came across and interesting site. There is an elderly Chinese couple who live in a house down the street. I see them out walking together every day. I do not know how far they walk, but I would gather to say its at least a mile every day. They don't hold hands. I rarely see them talk. But they are always together walking. But today, I drove passed their house and I saw the man outside with a basketball and he threw it. He didn't just toss it. It was an out right throw! He had full range of motion in his arms, and he is strong. I didn't see who he was playing with. Then about an hour later, I went back out and he was still out there playing basketball, only this time, I got a good look at who he was playing with. It was his wife. They were bouncing and throwing this ball around like teenagers. And she was doing some stretches on the ground... some deep lunges. I could only think two thoughts: 1) Wow! It's so cool to see them out playing like kids 2) Look at her stretching! There is no way my knee could tolerate that!
Seeing this elderly Chinese couple every day truly inspires me. I want that to be me and Tracy. I want to be the couple that walks together every day (only we would be holding hands). I want to be the couple that is outside throwing around a ball and playing like we were teenagers. I want to be healthy and spry! I wanna give something for the young kids to talk about!
I am really trying not to have a "whoa as me" moment with my knee. I keep telling myself to power though..suck it up. But damn its painful! There is a point when I straighten out my knee where it feels like it is about to explode, then it pops and there is no pain. But man.....it huts like none other in that point of the motion. I have been dealing with this pain since January....that kind of constant pain takes a toll. *laugh* I will get though this. I know what I want my life to look like, and right now, this is not it. *laugh* I wanna be that elderly Chinese couple! I wanna be that kind of old!
Once I left China Town, I didn't give it much thought.
My mom has always been a force to be reckoned with. I remember being in junior high and my mom was in her early 40's and she was playing softball with the high schoolers and young adults of our church. She walked 5 miles a day just for a stroll. She wore us out in England and I had to beg for a day off of touring just so I could rest. She was constantly on the go. Even as she was in her 60's going into he 70's she was working out with a personal trainer three times a week and in the gym 6 days a week and she was taking regular Zumba classes (not the senior citizen kind). At nearly 70 years old, she could spend an entire day at Disney World and not blink an eye. She was inspiring!
Life took a turn. My dad died. My mom started hanging out with a man who was not as active as she was. Mom fell a couple of times and broke her elbow and hip. She had a couple of surgeries. She had a hip replacement. And things just didn't really get a whole lot better for her. The arthritis in her knees has gotten so bad, it is very had for her to get up out of a chair or in and out of her car. She has lost range of motion in her arms. She can't walk a quarter of a mile without needing to rest. She tells me, "I never thought I would FEEL this old." She gets discouraged, "I don't want to be walking around with a cane and/or walker like the rest of the people in my apartment complex." My mom is now 78 yeas old. She is back in the gym doing her best to keep moving and stay strong.
I watched her get on and off he recumbent bike. She has to lift her legs with he hands to get her legs over the machines. To get out of a chair and some of the exercise equipment, she has to rock back and forth to get the momentum to get her up on her feet. And I see it. I see the resemblance of motions I am doing now in order to compensate for my left knee that I been seeing the doctor about. There are many times, I am pulling my leg up because the pain to move it on its own is just too great. And I realize that by doing this, I am losing muscle in that leg. It is a vicious circle. My mom was NOT like this at 47 years old. But I am. And it would be a lie to say that it doesn't scare me a bit.
So today, I was driving home from breakfast, and I came across and interesting site. There is an elderly Chinese couple who live in a house down the street. I see them out walking together every day. I do not know how far they walk, but I would gather to say its at least a mile every day. They don't hold hands. I rarely see them talk. But they are always together walking. But today, I drove passed their house and I saw the man outside with a basketball and he threw it. He didn't just toss it. It was an out right throw! He had full range of motion in his arms, and he is strong. I didn't see who he was playing with. Then about an hour later, I went back out and he was still out there playing basketball, only this time, I got a good look at who he was playing with. It was his wife. They were bouncing and throwing this ball around like teenagers. And she was doing some stretches on the ground... some deep lunges. I could only think two thoughts: 1) Wow! It's so cool to see them out playing like kids 2) Look at her stretching! There is no way my knee could tolerate that!
Seeing this elderly Chinese couple every day truly inspires me. I want that to be me and Tracy. I want to be the couple that walks together every day (only we would be holding hands). I want to be the couple that is outside throwing around a ball and playing like we were teenagers. I want to be healthy and spry! I wanna give something for the young kids to talk about!
I am really trying not to have a "whoa as me" moment with my knee. I keep telling myself to power though..suck it up. But damn its painful! There is a point when I straighten out my knee where it feels like it is about to explode, then it pops and there is no pain. But man.....it huts like none other in that point of the motion. I have been dealing with this pain since January....that kind of constant pain takes a toll. *laugh* I will get though this. I know what I want my life to look like, and right now, this is not it. *laugh* I wanna be that elderly Chinese couple! I wanna be that kind of old!
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
March 23, 2014 Making History
I'm exhausted today and my brain is officially fried, but I am pretty certain it was worth it.
This election season, I have made a point of not being too political on Facebook. I have made a point of not watching debates and getting caught up in the rhetoric. Why? Well it's not because I don't want to be informed; it's because I get way too wrapped up in it. Emotionally it destroys me. Since Nick died, I have enough emotional stuff to deal with without having to get caught up in the craziness that comes out during election season. However, I have been paying attention. I don't want to be uneducated. So I do pay attention and listen enough to stay informed. I know what I want from a candidate. I know what I want in a president. And to be perfectly honest, I know who I am.
In keeping with my theme for the year (authenticity), I made what was a very hard decision for me yesterday. Last night was the Idaho Democrat Caucus. It fell on the same night (and time) as my bellydance class. This bellydance rehearsal was very important since we have a very important performance this weekend. By not going to dance, I could very well be told that I can not dance on Saturday (especially since I was out last week cause I was sick). I get it, and I understand. As it is, my decision not to go to dance resulted in one of my dances getting pulled from the line up, and I feel like I let 2 of the girls down since they don't get to dance that dance either now. However, going to the caucus was important, and I guess in my own limited opinion it was more important than dance.
In case anyone was wondering why I thought it was important, here are my reasons:
1) In Idaho, where this state is RED, I felt it was important to make sure that I as a political minority in my state show up to have my say.
2) Given the way our general elections work (with delegates and not popular votes) I felt like this is truly one of the only times my actual vote would be heard and make a difference.
3) As a woman, it is important that I use my right to vote. There are women in other countries who do not have this precious right to have a say so in how their government is ran. They don't get to voice their opinions. And (to me) it is wrong (for me) to squander this right.
4) Even though, I may not get to dance and even though one of my dances is cancelled, it was important for my daughter (who is not yet old enough to vote) to see how important it is, and what sacrifices need to be made in order to have our voices heard.
5) Then there is the obvious, I wanted to make sure my candidate had as much representation and votes as possible to make sure he won.
I voted for Bernie Sanders, and from what I could tell before the caucus, he was sure to win. I probably didn't need to go. He won by a landslide. But what if everyone thought, "Well he is going to win by a landslide, I don't need to go." What if everyone who thought that, decided NOT to go and Hillary would have won? Here's the deal, you vote and you lose, you get to complain. You don't vote and you lose, you don't get to complain. As U.S. Citizens we have a precious right that so many in other countries don't get. Not only is it a right, but it really is imperative that we do it. That is how I feel. And I had chosen dance over voting last night, I would not have been living with authenticity, an I would have been setting a bad example for my children. I feel bad for letting my bellydance sisters down, but I would have felt worse had I not gone to vote.
Boise made history last night. It's been deemed the largest caucus in the United States. It was a HUGE caucus with over 9000 votes cast, and that does not include people who came to stand in line but decided the line was too long so they left. It does not include those who drove downtown with the intention of voting but saw the line was too long so they didn't even park their cars. It did not include those who would have gone out if it were not for health issues (physical or emotional). It did not include those people who had to work and could not get off for fear of losing their jobs. A caucus like this is not a fair way to vote. It is limiting. Even with the limitations and challenges, it made history as the largest caucus in the US. And for once, as cool as that sounds, I avoided TV cameras and reporters. I avoided them at the Benie Rally the day before. Why? Because it wasn't about me or what I had to say. It was about US as a collective.
I also realized that this election season, the brain injury has affected my ability to understand, remember, and talk about this election the way I used to before bonking my head. Don't ask me why I am voting for a specific candidate. I will not be able to talk like I have a clue. LOL. I was asked by a good friend yesterday why I voted for Bernie. She was sitting in the undecided section of the caucus. He husband already cast his vote, but she just couldn't decide so she was asking. She felt uninspired by Bernie and Hillary and she didn't want to just follow a path she didn't believe in. I get that, and I am proud of her for following that. But when she asked me why I voted for Bernie, my best answer was this: "I went to the rally yesterday and I agreed with everything he said. There was not one thing that I heard that made me say, "absolutely not"." So then she asked me why I didn't vote for Hillary. I thought about it. And I have to be quite honest. I have probably NOT given Hillary my due diligence. However, given my voting history and my typical thoughts...I have a better answer today than what I gave her yesterday. My answer yesterday was, "I didn't vote for her because she is part of the Machine, and I don't like the Machine." The reality is, long before Obama declared he was going to run for President, I knew that if he ever ran, I would vote for him. Why? Because, in my eyes, he was much different than any other candidate I had ever seen. He was not part of the "Machine". He looked and sounded more real than the rest of the polished politicians. Yes, he was still a politician, but there was something very genuine about him. There was something very authentic about him that just resonated with me. And yes, some of his core policies I agreed with. When it comes to Hillary (whom I always thought I would vote for if she ever ran), I have decided over the last several years, that she is just like the rest of the politicians. Says one things, does another because she is being financed by big money. She does not have my best interest in mind. So, no, she does not get my vote. I want someone in office who thinks on their own. I want someone who is not dependent on big money. I want someone who will look out for the small guy and help build the small guy up. This country is only as strong as its weakest link. If we do not build up those who are weak, then we are only allowing that to grow. We need to educate our citizens. We need to get them healthy. We need a livable wage. I have listened to my parents about how they were raised. I have listened to my grandparents. I have watched and paid attention to how I was raised an my thoughts and the things we did and how we have been able to live. And now as a mom of young adults, I see how hard it is for them. It was easier for me to find a job making $10/hour and LIVE on that..that was 28 years ago. The jobs are harder to find an even less income now..and the cost of living is much higher! Not to mention the cost of education. How fair is that? How is our country suppose to progress and stay great, if we can't afford to live on our own or go to college? So yes... Bernie has my vote, for that reason and so many other reasons. And that is why Hillary does NOT have my vote. I do not think she will do what needs to be done.
So anyway...I was part of history last night, but not because it was cool....but because I did what was right and it just happened to make history. And in doing so, living authentically, I had to make a sacrifice and my choice affected people besides myself. I know for some, it may seem like no big deal, but to me it was huge.
Now if I could only find a couple of days to rest my brain after 2 days of over stimulation, that would be great!
This election season, I have made a point of not being too political on Facebook. I have made a point of not watching debates and getting caught up in the rhetoric. Why? Well it's not because I don't want to be informed; it's because I get way too wrapped up in it. Emotionally it destroys me. Since Nick died, I have enough emotional stuff to deal with without having to get caught up in the craziness that comes out during election season. However, I have been paying attention. I don't want to be uneducated. So I do pay attention and listen enough to stay informed. I know what I want from a candidate. I know what I want in a president. And to be perfectly honest, I know who I am.
In keeping with my theme for the year (authenticity), I made what was a very hard decision for me yesterday. Last night was the Idaho Democrat Caucus. It fell on the same night (and time) as my bellydance class. This bellydance rehearsal was very important since we have a very important performance this weekend. By not going to dance, I could very well be told that I can not dance on Saturday (especially since I was out last week cause I was sick). I get it, and I understand. As it is, my decision not to go to dance resulted in one of my dances getting pulled from the line up, and I feel like I let 2 of the girls down since they don't get to dance that dance either now. However, going to the caucus was important, and I guess in my own limited opinion it was more important than dance.
In case anyone was wondering why I thought it was important, here are my reasons:
1) In Idaho, where this state is RED, I felt it was important to make sure that I as a political minority in my state show up to have my say.
2) Given the way our general elections work (with delegates and not popular votes) I felt like this is truly one of the only times my actual vote would be heard and make a difference.
3) As a woman, it is important that I use my right to vote. There are women in other countries who do not have this precious right to have a say so in how their government is ran. They don't get to voice their opinions. And (to me) it is wrong (for me) to squander this right.
4) Even though, I may not get to dance and even though one of my dances is cancelled, it was important for my daughter (who is not yet old enough to vote) to see how important it is, and what sacrifices need to be made in order to have our voices heard.
5) Then there is the obvious, I wanted to make sure my candidate had as much representation and votes as possible to make sure he won.
I voted for Bernie Sanders, and from what I could tell before the caucus, he was sure to win. I probably didn't need to go. He won by a landslide. But what if everyone thought, "Well he is going to win by a landslide, I don't need to go." What if everyone who thought that, decided NOT to go and Hillary would have won? Here's the deal, you vote and you lose, you get to complain. You don't vote and you lose, you don't get to complain. As U.S. Citizens we have a precious right that so many in other countries don't get. Not only is it a right, but it really is imperative that we do it. That is how I feel. And I had chosen dance over voting last night, I would not have been living with authenticity, an I would have been setting a bad example for my children. I feel bad for letting my bellydance sisters down, but I would have felt worse had I not gone to vote.
Boise made history last night. It's been deemed the largest caucus in the United States. It was a HUGE caucus with over 9000 votes cast, and that does not include people who came to stand in line but decided the line was too long so they left. It does not include those who drove downtown with the intention of voting but saw the line was too long so they didn't even park their cars. It did not include those who would have gone out if it were not for health issues (physical or emotional). It did not include those people who had to work and could not get off for fear of losing their jobs. A caucus like this is not a fair way to vote. It is limiting. Even with the limitations and challenges, it made history as the largest caucus in the US. And for once, as cool as that sounds, I avoided TV cameras and reporters. I avoided them at the Benie Rally the day before. Why? Because it wasn't about me or what I had to say. It was about US as a collective.
I also realized that this election season, the brain injury has affected my ability to understand, remember, and talk about this election the way I used to before bonking my head. Don't ask me why I am voting for a specific candidate. I will not be able to talk like I have a clue. LOL. I was asked by a good friend yesterday why I voted for Bernie. She was sitting in the undecided section of the caucus. He husband already cast his vote, but she just couldn't decide so she was asking. She felt uninspired by Bernie and Hillary and she didn't want to just follow a path she didn't believe in. I get that, and I am proud of her for following that. But when she asked me why I voted for Bernie, my best answer was this: "I went to the rally yesterday and I agreed with everything he said. There was not one thing that I heard that made me say, "absolutely not"." So then she asked me why I didn't vote for Hillary. I thought about it. And I have to be quite honest. I have probably NOT given Hillary my due diligence. However, given my voting history and my typical thoughts...I have a better answer today than what I gave her yesterday. My answer yesterday was, "I didn't vote for her because she is part of the Machine, and I don't like the Machine." The reality is, long before Obama declared he was going to run for President, I knew that if he ever ran, I would vote for him. Why? Because, in my eyes, he was much different than any other candidate I had ever seen. He was not part of the "Machine". He looked and sounded more real than the rest of the polished politicians. Yes, he was still a politician, but there was something very genuine about him. There was something very authentic about him that just resonated with me. And yes, some of his core policies I agreed with. When it comes to Hillary (whom I always thought I would vote for if she ever ran), I have decided over the last several years, that she is just like the rest of the politicians. Says one things, does another because she is being financed by big money. She does not have my best interest in mind. So, no, she does not get my vote. I want someone in office who thinks on their own. I want someone who is not dependent on big money. I want someone who will look out for the small guy and help build the small guy up. This country is only as strong as its weakest link. If we do not build up those who are weak, then we are only allowing that to grow. We need to educate our citizens. We need to get them healthy. We need a livable wage. I have listened to my parents about how they were raised. I have listened to my grandparents. I have watched and paid attention to how I was raised an my thoughts and the things we did and how we have been able to live. And now as a mom of young adults, I see how hard it is for them. It was easier for me to find a job making $10/hour and LIVE on that..that was 28 years ago. The jobs are harder to find an even less income now..and the cost of living is much higher! Not to mention the cost of education. How fair is that? How is our country suppose to progress and stay great, if we can't afford to live on our own or go to college? So yes... Bernie has my vote, for that reason and so many other reasons. And that is why Hillary does NOT have my vote. I do not think she will do what needs to be done.
So anyway...I was part of history last night, but not because it was cool....but because I did what was right and it just happened to make history. And in doing so, living authentically, I had to make a sacrifice and my choice affected people besides myself. I know for some, it may seem like no big deal, but to me it was huge.
Now if I could only find a couple of days to rest my brain after 2 days of over stimulation, that would be great!
Saturday, March 19, 2016
March 19, 2016 Joy Filled New Beginnings
I am not going to lie the last week and a half have been very emotional for me. I have been searching for answers that I wasn't even sure I would be able to find. These questions I kept asking myself centered around Nick's death. I was also spending time getting ready for the Marathong burlesque night where I would be performing Nick's tribute piece. So I was emotionally charged to begin with. But as I sat own to type this out, it dawned on me that Spring is here. The Equinox is tomorrow. The Pagan holiday Ostara is tomorrow. And that is when it all started to make sense to me. Now I know WHY all of his has been happening this week.
Let me start with this nagging question I have had ever since Nick's death. Somewhere in the investigation of his accident, I got it into my head that Nick was riding though a yellow light, and Michaeleen Blair was making a left hand turn at the same yellow light that he was going straight through an that is why the accident occurred. She was charged "at fault" since Nick would have had the right-of-way. But the mom in me..the mom who knows her son has been asking, "Why was he riding through a yellow light without being aware..without having his hands hovering over the breaks that would have saved his life? This story is not adding up in my head." When we went to Florida when he was killed, we saw both his bike and he car at the same time. We tried to place the pieces of the puzzle together. We wanted to understand how our son had died. In all of the stuff we had read, there was no real clear information about the accident other than Michaeleen ran a yellow light and "hit" our son. We also knew Nick had been thrown from his motorcycle and the cause of death was blunt force trauma to his internal organs and that he died on scene (probably impact). We knew he had his his leather jack, steel toed boots, gloves and helmet on. There was no brain trauma. We knew all of that. But that accident itself just wasn't making sense in my head. And yes, for nearly a year and a half, I have been walking around with this lingering question.
(Many women are like this. You cheat on us, we want DETAILS!!!! When, Where, Why, How. How many times. I guess its the same when it comes to death. We want details. They are gory and nobody wants to really hear them, but it helps us heal and move on. It gives us closure. It gives us understanding. And yes, it feeds the control freak in us!)
Anyway, I have been very emotional, and Nick has been sending me angels in the forms of rubber duckies in stores and even his friends to hug me. But he also sent something else. He sent me the answers I had been looking for.
A friend of mine posted something on facebook about "filtered messages" and it prompted me to go look to see what I had. The thing is, back in November, I was searching for 2 very specific emails and facebook messages that I exchanged with people who had seen Nick's accident, and I couldn't find them anywhere. But the day I go looking through the "filtered messages" I instantly find a message dated 11/11/14 (the day after Nick's accident). It was from a woman who had witnessed the accident.
I do not remember ever seeing this message. I am pretty certain that I responded to all of the messages I read back then...including one from a woman who had been at the accident scene and even showed up to Nick's memorial. The message I just read this week had some similarities to the previous messages so its hard for me (with the shock of Nick's death and my brain injury) to be completely certain that I didn't see it. Either way.. .here it was again. I read it. And it said very clearly that Nick did NOT ride though a yellow light; his light was green. This woman saw EVERYTHING. She saw Nick riding before the accident.. she saw the actual accident..and she was at Nick's side until the ambulance arrived.
We have exchanged quite a few messages since I read her initial message. That message had been sitting there for almost a year and a half waiting for me to read it. And Nick made sure I saw it this week. He made sure my questions were answered. He made sure that I was being given peace and closing this chapter of grief so that I could dance free on performance night and start fresh at the Spring Equinox!
But there is more..this woman who stood beside Nick, protecting him until the ambulance came, and I have become friends. I have caught her in her last months of life. She has cancer that is untestable and has been given a prognosis of a couple of months to live. She is moving to be near family. And Nick has asked me to send her rubber duckies to protect her along her journey. This woman shares the same kind of spiritual journey that I do. We have so much in common. And she sees that Nick has orchestrated this... she was there for his passing and now he will be there for hers. It has been a very profound couple of days (right before my tribute performance). It has been a huge blessing.
I know know every detail of that accident. Not just about the green light..but every detail..I know what happened. And I know this because Nick sent her to me at the right time in both of our lives. Each person comes into our lives at the perfect time, and this amazing woman is no different! She even does the same thing I do.... wonder about Michaeleen..if she is still driving (and on her own, she has searched for that info a few times...and she has been angry at Michaeleen just like I have been). Finding her has been a blessing.
For the first time since Nick's death, I actually feel "lighter". I finally feel like I have let go of some major baggage.
Last night right before I went on stage, I received the message of the graphic details of his accident (by graphic, I don't mean gruesome....just things that paint a complete picture..which incidentally was the exact image I had in my head when I heard he had had the accident). Anyway, I got that message JUST before going on stage. I did not read the message. But I knew what was in it. And I was a shaking mess..filled with energy as I danced for Nick. When I got off that stage, I didn't know whether to cry and let out the emotion or what. It was a beautiful moment.. a beautiful feeling.
I am blessed. I am grateful. I am honored.
This life is beautiful and precious. We should celebrate it in every step we take and every breath we breathe. We should cherish the moments we have with friends and family. We should shine our lights every chance we are given (whether it be a smile at a stranger or stripping on a stage). And our hearts should be open to receiving love and light and laughter and messages..cause every question you ask has an answer, you just have to be ready to listen and or see it!
Let me start with this nagging question I have had ever since Nick's death. Somewhere in the investigation of his accident, I got it into my head that Nick was riding though a yellow light, and Michaeleen Blair was making a left hand turn at the same yellow light that he was going straight through an that is why the accident occurred. She was charged "at fault" since Nick would have had the right-of-way. But the mom in me..the mom who knows her son has been asking, "Why was he riding through a yellow light without being aware..without having his hands hovering over the breaks that would have saved his life? This story is not adding up in my head." When we went to Florida when he was killed, we saw both his bike and he car at the same time. We tried to place the pieces of the puzzle together. We wanted to understand how our son had died. In all of the stuff we had read, there was no real clear information about the accident other than Michaeleen ran a yellow light and "hit" our son. We also knew Nick had been thrown from his motorcycle and the cause of death was blunt force trauma to his internal organs and that he died on scene (probably impact). We knew he had his his leather jack, steel toed boots, gloves and helmet on. There was no brain trauma. We knew all of that. But that accident itself just wasn't making sense in my head. And yes, for nearly a year and a half, I have been walking around with this lingering question.
(Many women are like this. You cheat on us, we want DETAILS!!!! When, Where, Why, How. How many times. I guess its the same when it comes to death. We want details. They are gory and nobody wants to really hear them, but it helps us heal and move on. It gives us closure. It gives us understanding. And yes, it feeds the control freak in us!)
Anyway, I have been very emotional, and Nick has been sending me angels in the forms of rubber duckies in stores and even his friends to hug me. But he also sent something else. He sent me the answers I had been looking for.
A friend of mine posted something on facebook about "filtered messages" and it prompted me to go look to see what I had. The thing is, back in November, I was searching for 2 very specific emails and facebook messages that I exchanged with people who had seen Nick's accident, and I couldn't find them anywhere. But the day I go looking through the "filtered messages" I instantly find a message dated 11/11/14 (the day after Nick's accident). It was from a woman who had witnessed the accident.
I do not remember ever seeing this message. I am pretty certain that I responded to all of the messages I read back then...including one from a woman who had been at the accident scene and even showed up to Nick's memorial. The message I just read this week had some similarities to the previous messages so its hard for me (with the shock of Nick's death and my brain injury) to be completely certain that I didn't see it. Either way.. .here it was again. I read it. And it said very clearly that Nick did NOT ride though a yellow light; his light was green. This woman saw EVERYTHING. She saw Nick riding before the accident.. she saw the actual accident..and she was at Nick's side until the ambulance arrived.
We have exchanged quite a few messages since I read her initial message. That message had been sitting there for almost a year and a half waiting for me to read it. And Nick made sure I saw it this week. He made sure my questions were answered. He made sure that I was being given peace and closing this chapter of grief so that I could dance free on performance night and start fresh at the Spring Equinox!
But there is more..this woman who stood beside Nick, protecting him until the ambulance came, and I have become friends. I have caught her in her last months of life. She has cancer that is untestable and has been given a prognosis of a couple of months to live. She is moving to be near family. And Nick has asked me to send her rubber duckies to protect her along her journey. This woman shares the same kind of spiritual journey that I do. We have so much in common. And she sees that Nick has orchestrated this... she was there for his passing and now he will be there for hers. It has been a very profound couple of days (right before my tribute performance). It has been a huge blessing.
I know know every detail of that accident. Not just about the green light..but every detail..I know what happened. And I know this because Nick sent her to me at the right time in both of our lives. Each person comes into our lives at the perfect time, and this amazing woman is no different! She even does the same thing I do.... wonder about Michaeleen..if she is still driving (and on her own, she has searched for that info a few times...and she has been angry at Michaeleen just like I have been). Finding her has been a blessing.
For the first time since Nick's death, I actually feel "lighter". I finally feel like I have let go of some major baggage.
Last night right before I went on stage, I received the message of the graphic details of his accident (by graphic, I don't mean gruesome....just things that paint a complete picture..which incidentally was the exact image I had in my head when I heard he had had the accident). Anyway, I got that message JUST before going on stage. I did not read the message. But I knew what was in it. And I was a shaking mess..filled with energy as I danced for Nick. When I got off that stage, I didn't know whether to cry and let out the emotion or what. It was a beautiful moment.. a beautiful feeling.
I am blessed. I am grateful. I am honored.
This life is beautiful and precious. We should celebrate it in every step we take and every breath we breathe. We should cherish the moments we have with friends and family. We should shine our lights every chance we are given (whether it be a smile at a stranger or stripping on a stage). And our hearts should be open to receiving love and light and laughter and messages..cause every question you ask has an answer, you just have to be ready to listen and or see it!
Monday, March 14, 2016
Marcy 14, 2016 (Rounded Pi Day). My Pi Day Epiphany
To most everyone out there today (March 14th or 3/14 or 3.14) is a normal day. Some celebrate it with pie because its 3.14 (the shortened numerical equation for Pi). For our family it goes much deeper. No one in our family was born on this day, and no one has died on this day. However, it was Nick's favorite number. Nick was a scientist....a physicist. He loved the fact that it was irrational and could not be put into a box.. rather it is used to describe the circumference of a circle. It is a transcendental number; "It is impossible to solve the ancient challenge of squaring the circle with a compass and straightedge." ~ wikipedia
He loved this number so much that he created a tattoo and had it placed on his right forearm. It was Pi to the 30th digit done in a counter clockwise circle (because that is how scientists do things... that is a whole different idea that my brain has a hard time wrapping its head around so I won't blog about it. Its had enough understanding Pi). The funny thing is, I never understood, until today, why his tattoo was done in a circle. When you see his tattoo (and since his death, all of our memorial tattoos), you would not recognize it as a symbol for Pi, but that is exactly what it is. Now learning (or maybe re-learning) its correlation to a circle, it makes sense.
But today, this blog is not so much about about his tattoo or even about the numbers that it represents.
Being a big day for our family to remember Nick, we have invited a few people over for Pi and Cards Against Humanity. I was in the kitchen making Pies when I had this epiphany.
The numerical equation of Pi never ends, like a circle never ever ends. It was Nick's favorite number for these reasons. Then BAM! Just like that I hear Nick's voice, "Mom, just like Pi, I will never end. I will be with you forever." It gave me chills and brought a smile to my face. I know Nick will always be part of me and will always watch over us. But today, of all days, to hear this was pretty cool. That is when I did some research on "Pi" I saw the word transcendental and how this number does not conform and refuses to be measured by any other numerical standard, I realized it was Nick. Nick refused to be measured by any other standard. He was irrational. And now, he is literally transcendental. It warms a mom's heart.
So yes, Pi Day, is very special to our family. Happy Pi Day! And, Nick, Happy Pi Day to you too, my sweet boy!!! Thanks for being brilliant! Thanks for being irrational! Love you, Kiddo!!!
He loved this number so much that he created a tattoo and had it placed on his right forearm. It was Pi to the 30th digit done in a counter clockwise circle (because that is how scientists do things... that is a whole different idea that my brain has a hard time wrapping its head around so I won't blog about it. Its had enough understanding Pi). The funny thing is, I never understood, until today, why his tattoo was done in a circle. When you see his tattoo (and since his death, all of our memorial tattoos), you would not recognize it as a symbol for Pi, but that is exactly what it is. Now learning (or maybe re-learning) its correlation to a circle, it makes sense.
But today, this blog is not so much about about his tattoo or even about the numbers that it represents.
Being a big day for our family to remember Nick, we have invited a few people over for Pi and Cards Against Humanity. I was in the kitchen making Pies when I had this epiphany.
The numerical equation of Pi never ends, like a circle never ever ends. It was Nick's favorite number for these reasons. Then BAM! Just like that I hear Nick's voice, "Mom, just like Pi, I will never end. I will be with you forever." It gave me chills and brought a smile to my face. I know Nick will always be part of me and will always watch over us. But today, of all days, to hear this was pretty cool. That is when I did some research on "Pi" I saw the word transcendental and how this number does not conform and refuses to be measured by any other numerical standard, I realized it was Nick. Nick refused to be measured by any other standard. He was irrational. And now, he is literally transcendental. It warms a mom's heart.
So yes, Pi Day, is very special to our family. Happy Pi Day! And, Nick, Happy Pi Day to you too, my sweet boy!!! Thanks for being brilliant! Thanks for being irrational! Love you, Kiddo!!!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
March 9, 2016 Taking Accountability
We you try things and "fail", do you you take your toys, go home, sit in a corner and pout and have a pity party or do you sit down look at what happened, take notes, and say, "Yes, I see where I went wrong and things I need to change to do it better the next time?" That is accountability.
Tracy and I come from families that always brought in people who needed help. My house was a revolving door for single moms (with their kids), or families of 7, or traveling missionaries, or traveling choirs. We always had people coming and going for varying lengths of time. I didn't live in a huge house. At one point I had to share a bed with one of the daughters of a single mom who came to live with us. When we had a family of 7 living with us, they all stayed in the "mother in law room" that was added to our house when my grandmother moved in. All seven of them stayed in there (or their little tiny RV parked in our back drive way. But, we had 7 more mouths to feed and take care of. Tracy's mom brought in people too. Tracy tells me stories about people that lived in his house..whether it was extended family members or people his mom met along the way. Either way, that is the way that we were raised.
More importantly, when my child hood home caught on fire, my family of 6 was scattered among family friends who took us in when we were homeless for a little while. So yes, I know what it is like to have another family take me in, feed me and even clothe me for a little bit.
So I guess this stuff is kind of in our DNA. Tracy and I have always believed, if we have it (or even if we don't really have it) we will help. Though I never really wanted to be that house that had people moving in and moving out. I didn't think it would be fair to my children. I remember how much I didn't like it when I was a kid. But somehow, when Nick came home with a friend who needed help, we didn't think twice. We saw a need and we had the means, so we were there. We were there, until we realized we were just enabling his mom who really needed help. Though we loved this boy who was now pretty much living with us, we were now being taken advantage of (or at least that is what i felt like). We had to start sending this boy home, and we did what we could to help him and help his mom get help. Eventually, this young man made a very difficult decision to live with his dad in a different state because it was what was best for him. I am very proud of the man he has become and grateful that I am still in contact with him. But once we opened that door to him, we found ourselves opening the doors to so many other young people who needed extra love and support. In one other instance we found ourselves fostering another situation that was not healthy for us or the mom or the child who was pretty much living with us. It was time to tell that child that he needed to spend more time at home; his mom needed to take care of him or get the help she needed to take care of him. We have watched him grow up to be an amazing human being with such depth and talent.
We talk about our "Bonus Kids" alot. Why? Because we love them. I'm still friends with so many of them on facebook. Our house was their safe haven when they needed it...and sometimes it required sending them back to their parents houses because we realized that we were just enabling the parent(s).
I love a house full of kids. I really do. My favorite thanksgiving was when we had a house filled with bonus kids from Idaho an Nevada. It was loud. It was crazy. And the roll fight that year was EPIC! (I grew up in a house where holiday dinners were huge... my family of 6 plus boyfriends and girlfriends and grandparents and the random people my mom would invite). That is the way holidays in my house were, and what I love now as an adult. When Nick moved away to Florida, holidays were never quite the same.. except that year we had all he bonus kids here. And THIS right here, is where my accountability starts.....
When Nick moved away, the family felt smaller. When we were all together for vacations, my family was complete. We were loud and happy and playful. But when he and Suzy were away, things just weren't the same. Kids grow up, they move out; it's what they are supposed to do. But that doesn't stop the longing in my heart for a house filled with the laughter of children. Then Nick died. A gaping hole was left in my heart. It was left in my family. It was felt in our house.
So when Nate asked if Tricia could move in for a month while she got a job and found a new place to live, I didn't think twice. (Well, okay, I might have thought twice, but it didn't stop me from saying yes.) We didn't want her to be homeless, and we wanted to give her a "leg up". To be honest, we didn't really even know much about her. But I wasn't gonna let her be homeless. We had room. We had the means, of course I was going to help her. A month turned into two, two turned into 6.... As time went on, and we got to know her a little bit better and learned a little bit more about her situation, we started calling her family. We took her on family vacation with us. We loved her. We told her that we loved her. When she and Nate got into fights, we told her she could move into the office/guest room until she could move out on her own. We even took her side over Nate's sometimes. We even told her, once you are family, you are always family, even when you move out, we will always be here to help you. (She told us she has no real family to help her.... everyone needs a family.. we would be hers.)
Then things went crazy awry. Suzy's boyfriend Tom was now staying at our place for over a month. At first it was "cool". Again, there was laughter. ALL of my kids were laughing and hanging out. It was like Nick was here. Then, there was an energetic shift. (My guess is, we realized he wasn't Nick.) That was more than we could handle. Tricia was not making moves to move out. All of a sudden, my house was feeling very crowded and stressed. We realized these adult children wanted to live like adults (living with their boyfriends/girflriends) but they wanted to do it rent free under our roof This was never something we ever agreed to or wanted. We always believed that if you wanted to live with a boyfriend/girlfriend then you need to live like an adult out on your own. We started asking adult children to create exit strategies. (I know you all have read this before...please bear with me.)
Lots of things happened in our house that I won't get into. No one needs to know those details. But I will say that Suzy moved out a week ago and Tricia moved out yesterday (she moved in with Suzy and Tom... as far as I was old by Nate. Neither Suzy or Tricia told me where they were going or when they were going nor did they say "goodbye".) To be fair, we saw Suzy packing and had heard from apartment complexes, we just didn't know Suzy had been approved or that she was moving right then and Tricia was given a date to move out by (based on an agreement we created with her a few weeks ago......it was a list of things to accomplish by certain dates and consequences if she didn't get them done. All of that was created in order to help her become independent and reach her goal of getting he son back in her custody). She didn't meet the first requirement of getting her Idaho drivers license by the dead line, so we told her she had 3 weeks from the time she didn't get her license to move out.. as per the agreement. There were suicide threats made and the police called. I take those threats very seriously. Anyway, she has been very angry with us and she moved out yesterday.
I have been feeling very stressed, very hurt, very conflicted and confused. How could I tell someone that I love them in one breath and kick them out in the next (even though I knew she had a place she could land). We brought Tricia in to prevent her from being homeless, and now I was making her homeless (or a least that was my thought process). It was making me crazy sick. And more importantly, WHY and HOW did I allow this to happen? How did I allow 1 month to turn into so many? How did I allow myself to love someone I didn't even know that well? What do I need to learn from this?
On Monday I had lunch with my best friend Michelle (who has been watching all of this) and Tuesday I had lunch with Brandon who has also been watching all of this. Both of these friends are very different in their approach to life. I also spent time visiting with my friend Elizabeth who is a counselor. All 3 of these people have helped me enormously in dealing with all of this. And by last night, I had a very clear vision of my accountability and responsibility in this situation.
Here are my insights:
1) How did I let this happen? Easy...I was not a year into mourning the loss of my son. Before he was dead, I missed the loud crazy laughter of a full house. It was even more pronounced since his death. Being who I am (from the get go) I am prone to bring people in who need help. But with the added sadness, bringing in someone who made us laugh..someone who was not grieving felt good. And, she was making Nate happy and giving Nate someone to cry with. And since I had a gaping hole in my heart, I was allowed myself to love Tricia and bring her in as family instead of someone who just needed help. In a way, I was using her..and that is horrible.
2) When I was told it was for a month, I should have written up an agreement then and there.... That is what I have learned from this.
3) From now on, no more accidental or even on purpose live in boyfriends/girlfriends. If you want to live like an adult, then go and be one outside of our home. I never really thought I would need to make that announcement. But I guess looking back at history, I did. *laugh*
4) Look very closely at how I invest my emotions. I would not throw money at an unknown and then get pissed cause I threw my money away. So why would I do the same thing with my emotions. I may live my life with open arms and love unconditionally, but I need to be smarter about who I do that with. Talk to people. Find out who they are. Find out their stories. I have always been a firm believer that children need unconditional love, but I forgot that "kids" in their 20's are not children; they are adults. Yes, they need love too, but they should be treated as adults, not like minors who can not fend for themselves. And every child (no matter what the age) needs boundaries and guidelines in order to grow up.. and sometimes enforcing those boundaries is going to hurt. So when it comes to adults in my life (be smarter, be wiser, look and listen before I invest). Have people earn my trust instead of just giving my trust blindly first. (This is so the opposite of how I am.....but it is a lesson learned). I'm not going to close myself off, but I will be wiser about how I invest my energy and love...especially as I am still healing from grief.
5) I have nothing to feel guilty over. While I do have some accountability in what I fostered, I have nothing to feel guilty about in asking the adult kids to create an exit strategy. I do not have anything to feel guilty about when it comes to asking Tricia to move out when she did not fulfill her end of the housing agreement. Feeling guilty for something that is a result over someone else's choices is just another way of enabling them. Nope. Not going to do that. I am only accountable and responsible for my actions. Time to release and let go.
I'm truly saddened by the way things have played out over the last few months in my house. There have been some good things that have happened as a result of the decisions Tracy and I made back when we asked the girls to create an exit strategy. I hope and I trust that one day, they will look back and see the good in this and their anger and pain will subside. I love them both.
(To be fair....and I need to say this.. before Nick was killed, there were several times when Nate almost found himself out on the streets, too. We also had a written agreement with him that was created in order to help him become an independent adult.......the decisions made with Suzy and Tricia are no different than the decisions made for our own birth children. Of course, when Nick was killed, life had to be re-arranged for Nate. Now with Suzy and Tricia out on their own, we can once again focus on Nate and help him get up on his own two feet.)
Now its time to take these lessons and grow and heal.
Monday, March 7, 2016
March 7, 2016 How Well Do You Know Me?
From the outside looking in, you might see a woman of privilege. You might see a woman who struggles with her weight. You might see a woman who is dealing with grief. You might see a woman who is confident and knows what she wants. Let's face it. Whatever you see, you see through you own experiences and how you perceive them. That is how any of us see each other. The only real way to know someone is to sit down and listen to their stories. But first, they have to be willing to share their stories with you. If they are not, then it is only natural to fill in blanks where you can. It is also natural not to ask questions of things you assume could cause pain...telling yourself, "if they really wanted to tell me, they would. It is not my place to ask."
So we sit across a restaurant and watch people and we create stories about them. These stories are based on body and facial expressions. They might be based on an over heard conversation. They might be based on the clothing they are wearing or the gadgets they are using. We make judgments and assumptions about people all of the time. Sometimes, is harmless and sometimes we inadvertently cause harm.
I tend to live my life as an open book. If you know me, if you read my blog, you already know that I tend to over share. So really, you might think that you know me. You might think you know me because of my blog. You might think you know me because of what I say on facebook. But how well do you really know me? Hell, you might even think you know me because you live with me or you are my best friend. But really. How well do you know me? How well do you know anyone in your life?
In this day and age, we can live in the same house with 6 people and never have a meaningful conversation. Everyone separates into their own rooms. The TV is on an you are glued to it. Computers are permanently placed on laps as if they are actual appendages. Hands feel empty and souls feel lost when a phone is not in your firm grasp. And we have lost the art of conversation. We have lost the ability to sit around a fire and share stories and have meaningful conversations. You could spend your entire life living in your house that you share with strangers you call family. That is so sad to think about, but I know that in my family, that can be so true.
There is nothing better than sitting around a fire pit and talking. There is nothing better than sitting around the table playing a stupid game of Cards Against Humanity and laughing our asses off while also having meaningful conversations at the same time. There is nothing better than a walk around the block with my hubby at night.. no phones..no computers..no TVs..just us and the annoying barking neighbor dogs.
I have seen so many posts on facebook about what an "introvert" is or how an "introvert" acts. But I think to myself, even though I love being on stage, if you put me in a crowd of people, I will shrink. I will not talk. I am seriously awkward and I just want to go home. I would much rather have an intimate gathering of people at my house than go to someone else's house where, even though I know them on a very surface level, I am not comfortable talking with them. A couple of weeks ago, I went to a party and actually had real conversations with people and I swear it was the first time that has ever happened. I think burlesque has helped with that. But what I can say, if I have an emotional disturbance in my life, I will talk the hell out of it. I will share. Mostly because talking (like writing) is my therapy. I'm not sure I am so much of an introvert as I am just shy. I love people. But I don't love talking to people. And I do get warn out when I am around lots of people all of the time. I like my solitude; it recharges me. I think I run right smack in the middle between introvert and extrovert. *shrug*
This blog is all over the place, and not going where I thought it was going.
Here is the thing. I will talk about most anything. If you ask me, I will tell you the truth..always.. even if it is too much for you to understand. I am a 100% open book. But there are only a few hand chosen people who know me and my entire story. As a matter of fact, up until a couple of weeks ago, there was only one person in my entire life watch me relive my rapes as my unconscious took over an rendered me useless and a crying mess begging for it to stop and thrashing trying to get away from my attacker. The moment I came back from that horrendous nightmare, I was humiliated that my friend was witness to such insanity.
I say this because...no one ever really knows every thing about one person. And appearances are just that.. appearances. What one person sees as rich, another person sees as poor. What one person sees as poor, another person sees as rich. Money is not the determining factor in happiness. Money is not even the determining factor in rich (since rich is really someone else's perception of what they see). And just because someone may look like they have all of their rubber duckies in a row, does not mean that they are perfect..it just means they have some things in their life in order.
What I also know to be true is just because I have been raped on numerous occasions, and just because sometimes I relive those rapes in horrible gut wrenching ways, it does not mean that I am a victim or that I will ever live with a victim mentality. Just because my perception of my childhood is one of abuse does not mean that is my brothers' perceptions. Nor does it mean, that I will live my life as a victim of abuse. I get to choose each day how I live my life. I could choose to live my life saying.. "I was raped at a very young age by several people... and it continued into adulthood.. my life sucks and I will never be able to be happy" or I can choose to say, "Yup, my childhood was rough. I endured more than most people can even comprehend. And I made a choice to live beyond that. I made a choice to live BECAUSE of that. And it made me a stronger, better person."
We all have choices. Some days, I don't make great choices. Some days, I get angry at what the universe has dealt me. Some days I get really angry for no really great reason. Some days I lose sight that we are all connected and that we are all one.. and that when one suffers, we all suffer. (Or better yet, when we love one, we love all.) We have choices. We can hold this shit in and not reach out for help, or we can open up and receive the help hat is offered to us. Everything is a choice.
I am grateful for those who have helped me along the way. I am grateful for those who have loved me though some of my darkest times. I am grateful for my friends who have looked into the madness and held me through it. I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness..for being able to say "Thank you for giving me these lessons" and for being able to say, "I love you". I am grateful for being able to let go of anger and let love enter. I am grateful for those who looked beyond perceptions and took the time to listen to me when I opened up. I am grateful for those who did not pry when I was closed up, but were there just in case. And I am grateful for those who have called me out on my shit and asked the hard questions like, "When are you going to stop telling that story and change it?"
I have no idea why these words fell the way they fell tonight....this was not my intention when I sat down to type. But my heart is open wide tonight....so I will leave you with this... the Ho'oponopono mediation. "I love you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you."
PS... I think I sound like a pompous ass *laugh*
So we sit across a restaurant and watch people and we create stories about them. These stories are based on body and facial expressions. They might be based on an over heard conversation. They might be based on the clothing they are wearing or the gadgets they are using. We make judgments and assumptions about people all of the time. Sometimes, is harmless and sometimes we inadvertently cause harm.
I tend to live my life as an open book. If you know me, if you read my blog, you already know that I tend to over share. So really, you might think that you know me. You might think you know me because of my blog. You might think you know me because of what I say on facebook. But how well do you really know me? Hell, you might even think you know me because you live with me or you are my best friend. But really. How well do you know me? How well do you know anyone in your life?
In this day and age, we can live in the same house with 6 people and never have a meaningful conversation. Everyone separates into their own rooms. The TV is on an you are glued to it. Computers are permanently placed on laps as if they are actual appendages. Hands feel empty and souls feel lost when a phone is not in your firm grasp. And we have lost the art of conversation. We have lost the ability to sit around a fire and share stories and have meaningful conversations. You could spend your entire life living in your house that you share with strangers you call family. That is so sad to think about, but I know that in my family, that can be so true.
There is nothing better than sitting around a fire pit and talking. There is nothing better than sitting around the table playing a stupid game of Cards Against Humanity and laughing our asses off while also having meaningful conversations at the same time. There is nothing better than a walk around the block with my hubby at night.. no phones..no computers..no TVs..just us and the annoying barking neighbor dogs.
I have seen so many posts on facebook about what an "introvert" is or how an "introvert" acts. But I think to myself, even though I love being on stage, if you put me in a crowd of people, I will shrink. I will not talk. I am seriously awkward and I just want to go home. I would much rather have an intimate gathering of people at my house than go to someone else's house where, even though I know them on a very surface level, I am not comfortable talking with them. A couple of weeks ago, I went to a party and actually had real conversations with people and I swear it was the first time that has ever happened. I think burlesque has helped with that. But what I can say, if I have an emotional disturbance in my life, I will talk the hell out of it. I will share. Mostly because talking (like writing) is my therapy. I'm not sure I am so much of an introvert as I am just shy. I love people. But I don't love talking to people. And I do get warn out when I am around lots of people all of the time. I like my solitude; it recharges me. I think I run right smack in the middle between introvert and extrovert. *shrug*
This blog is all over the place, and not going where I thought it was going.
Here is the thing. I will talk about most anything. If you ask me, I will tell you the truth..always.. even if it is too much for you to understand. I am a 100% open book. But there are only a few hand chosen people who know me and my entire story. As a matter of fact, up until a couple of weeks ago, there was only one person in my entire life watch me relive my rapes as my unconscious took over an rendered me useless and a crying mess begging for it to stop and thrashing trying to get away from my attacker. The moment I came back from that horrendous nightmare, I was humiliated that my friend was witness to such insanity.
I say this because...no one ever really knows every thing about one person. And appearances are just that.. appearances. What one person sees as rich, another person sees as poor. What one person sees as poor, another person sees as rich. Money is not the determining factor in happiness. Money is not even the determining factor in rich (since rich is really someone else's perception of what they see). And just because someone may look like they have all of their rubber duckies in a row, does not mean that they are perfect..it just means they have some things in their life in order.
What I also know to be true is just because I have been raped on numerous occasions, and just because sometimes I relive those rapes in horrible gut wrenching ways, it does not mean that I am a victim or that I will ever live with a victim mentality. Just because my perception of my childhood is one of abuse does not mean that is my brothers' perceptions. Nor does it mean, that I will live my life as a victim of abuse. I get to choose each day how I live my life. I could choose to live my life saying.. "I was raped at a very young age by several people... and it continued into adulthood.. my life sucks and I will never be able to be happy" or I can choose to say, "Yup, my childhood was rough. I endured more than most people can even comprehend. And I made a choice to live beyond that. I made a choice to live BECAUSE of that. And it made me a stronger, better person."
We all have choices. Some days, I don't make great choices. Some days, I get angry at what the universe has dealt me. Some days I get really angry for no really great reason. Some days I lose sight that we are all connected and that we are all one.. and that when one suffers, we all suffer. (Or better yet, when we love one, we love all.) We have choices. We can hold this shit in and not reach out for help, or we can open up and receive the help hat is offered to us. Everything is a choice.
I am grateful for those who have helped me along the way. I am grateful for those who have loved me though some of my darkest times. I am grateful for my friends who have looked into the madness and held me through it. I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness..for being able to say "Thank you for giving me these lessons" and for being able to say, "I love you". I am grateful for being able to let go of anger and let love enter. I am grateful for those who looked beyond perceptions and took the time to listen to me when I opened up. I am grateful for those who did not pry when I was closed up, but were there just in case. And I am grateful for those who have called me out on my shit and asked the hard questions like, "When are you going to stop telling that story and change it?"
I have no idea why these words fell the way they fell tonight....this was not my intention when I sat down to type. But my heart is open wide tonight....so I will leave you with this... the Ho'oponopono mediation. "I love you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you."
PS... I think I sound like a pompous ass *laugh*
Sunday, March 6, 2016
March 6, 2016 Just Beneath the Surface
Last night I had some horrible dreams that included a fight with Suzy over spreading Nick's ashes (which has not even been a conversation with her other than to say at some point we may spread his ashes..so the dream has no real basis except in the feelings that create these dreams). I have a feeling that dream was about closure or maybe lack there of. I get that on the surface, but beneath the surface there is so much going on in my head.
These blogs give me a place to try and dig beneath the surface. They give me a place to find my voice. They give me a place to express what is lurking beneath the surface. They give me a place to hold them up in the light and observe them. And the people who read this blog do me the huge honor of being witness to my process. None of these blogs have ever been about anyone else other than myself and what I feel. Unfortunately some things I have shared have hurt those whom I love dearly. Words hurt. Words can't be taken back...especially if they are in print....especially if they are on the internet. You can try to hide the words. You can try to protect people. You can try to delete things to cover things up to either protect others or to keep your one-sided story going. I work very hard at being impeccable with my speech. I work very hard to choose my words wisely. I work very hard not to spread my pain to others. I fail sometimes.
Today, while Tracy and I were on our drive to nowhere, we drove up Idaho Highway 21. We watched the river flowing down and switching sides of the road. We had just taken this road two weeks ago, and this river was quiet. Today, it was raging. The level was high. The water was muddy. It was raging down the mountain, and bringing the dirt with it. It was so high and so full it was making it own way down the mountain side. It broke away from the main river bed and found its own path and joined again with the main flow. Seeing this river rage reminded me of how I feel so often these days.
Two weeks ago, it was calm and peaceful. This week, it was taking over, raging, spilling over and stirring up dirt and bringing the dirt with it. It was making new paths, destroying vegetation (maybe just temporarily) as it went down. This is me. I was calm, or at least I do my best to remain calm. But then a dam breaks or ice melts or a rain storm hits and the river that is my emotions start to rage and yes, sometimes destruction happens. Sometimes, I hurt people with my words. Sometimes I smash dishes. Sometimes I hurt myself by choosing foods I know are not good for me. This happens, because I spend so much of my time keeping my emotions buried. Why? Because they are not pretty and I am afraid that my feelings might hurt others.
So that brought another thought today....
Just beneath the surface.
I know so many people that are afraid of swimming in open water. Why? Because if they can't see beneath the water, they are afraid of what might or might not be there. If they are in an ocean, they are afraid of sharks or being swept away by the riptide. If they are in a lake, they are afraid of vegetation that might pull them under or the water being too deep or some weird fish that might bite them. Either way, they are afraid of what they can't see..of what might be lurking just beneath the surface.
I spend so much of my time, making sure the surface of my ocean is smooth and glassy and peaceful. I have not posted gory details about what is going on in my home. I do not share how I am really feeling. I do not share even a fraction of what is hurting me. It is only those people I see face to face that hear what lurks beneath the glassy surface of my oceans. When they hear, they say, "I had no idea all of that was going on."
The monsters that lurk just beneath my glassy surface are scary. A couple of weeks ago, there was a facebook picture going around and I shared it. It was a picture of some kind of animal with two different attitudes. One was Scary and said (how my kids see me) and the other was all sweet and calm and said something like (How the public sees me). That is how I feel so much of the time right now.
My heart is wrapped in a whole bunch of confusing emotions and I'm not exactly sure how to sort them out. I use to be able to compartmentalize things. "This anger, goes in the box labeled 'dad'" "This fear goes in the box labeled 'Tracy'." "This heart break goes in the box labeled 'Naomi'" You get the idea. Now, instead of having boxes of carefully sorted emotions where I can pick them up and look at them and deal with them one at a time, I have a kelp field just beneath my glassy sea and the kelp is tangling itself around my legs and I am struggling to shake them free and stay afloat. I don't know where the anger is coming from; it's coming from all different directions. I don't know where the sadness started or where it ends. I don't know where this guilt came from or even what I did wrong.
What I do know is that I am finding myself becoming very jaded. I used to go around with a very open heart and give and give and give.. to anyone and everyone who needed it. If you needed money, and I had it, it was yours. If you needed a hug, I wouldn't think twice. If you needed a place to crash, my couch was yours. If you needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there no judgment, no questions asked. Now, I find myself put out and angry. I don't have the energy to listen to you cry about the same ol' stuff. I don't have the compassion needed to read your facebook posts and offer words of comfort. Even though I have the money, I question whether you are going to spend the money I give you wisely. I may have extra room in my house, but I really just want to have immediate family only in my house. I need calm and I wonder, "well how long will they be here. If they can't afford their own place, why don't they work two jobs so they can? If they can't afford this, why are they buying that?" I start questioning everything and lose my compassion and find myself judging. Then I find myself resentful. I resent being taken advantage of. I resent feeling angry. I resent feeling guilty because I want just my immediate family living at home. I resent being lied to. I resent being ignored. I resent feeling bad because I feel bad. I would totally allow people to walk all over me to avoid hurting them or putting them out.. even if they are taking advantage of me. Why? Why do I think I don't deserve respect from the people I love? And yet, because of the way I feel and standing up for myself, these people feel like I don't love them. But really, in expecting more of them and expecting better of them, IS showing them that I love them...whether they see it or not. It's part of being a mom. It's part of being a compassionate person... Enabling people is not love. Teaching them to be independent, holding them accountable is showing them that you love them. But why does it hurt so badly?
Tonight I write this blog because the river is raging and was starting to break its normal path which could cause destruction.. so I write to make way, to give it room to flow to protect the land and people around me. I am kicking away the kelp tangles and doing my best to swim to shore..or at the very least float on my back on the glassy surface while I rest and regain my strength for another plunge beneath the surface.
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