September 25, 2016 So Much Glitter!!!!!!!!

Driving to Pengilly's Saloon tonight, it was all I could do to contain my excitement.  My body was literally buzzing and I couldn't stop smiling.  The anticipation that comes with a new act, plus the start of a new burlesque season had my heart over flowing!

I didn't realize just how much I had missed burlesque season. I didn't realize just how much Burlesque means to me.  But man, have I missed it!

Sure, I spent some time this summer taking workshops and being surrounded by some of my burlesque family, but going to the shows and seeing our audience, and feeling that energy is the most incredible thing.  There is such a beautiful exchange of energy at a Burlesque show.

I know there are some people that think, "You just get up on a stage and take off your clothes.  You are just a stripper."  But it is so much more than that.  It starts with this spark of an idea.  Whether its a song or a story or a costume piece, and then it builds from there.  It's performance art from the onset.

Tonight, I performed a brand new piece.  It is one that I started while working on a workshop with Frankly Frankie.  The inspiration for this piece came while I was on a burlesque trip to Colorado with Mimi and Frankie.  The original idea was to take the story "Teddy Bear's Picnic" (that I used to tell on stage) and mix it with music.  But then I decided I didn't want to record the storytelling part of it, and I would just use the Jerry Garcia version of the song Teddy Bear Picnic and part of the original Bear Necessities from Jungle Book.  Thanks to Dan Costello, we mashed the two songs together and the art started flowing from there.  The costume creation was some of the most challenging I have done to this date.  It started with the idea of creating fur cage panties and a fur covered bra.  Then it just kinda took on a life of its own.  I created the cage panties.  I created a little bear tail sewn onto a thong that went on under the cage panties.  I covered a bra with fur; that was an experience all on its own!  Then the idea of creating honeycomb shaped pasties happened.  I never could get the honey comb right, so it ended up being a plain circle.  However, the honey dipper tassels dipped in gold glitter worked out fantastic (once I figured out the mechanics of it all).  Once I had that figured out, I looked through my belly dance costumes to find the right skirt and top to cover all of that up to go from "little girl" to "teddy bear" (as the song implies).    Then it was figuring out how to get the ants  (raisins), in the act and when to strip and when to be playful and when to dance and what other props I need.  There is so much that goes into an act.  It truly is an art.   And in Idaho, our art is being stifled by archaic liquor laws that say women (not men) have to have from the top of the areola and down completely covered.  That is so difficult (without wearing a complete bra..which are not so pretty).  (For the record, men can go completely topless in a bar.. stupid sexist laws.)  But I digress....

Once I had all of the costuming done and the choreo figured out, I had another brilliant idea.  "What if I created a bee hive and filled it with gold glitter and then dumped it on my head like a bear digging his paw into a hive to get to the honey?"  It took some thinking and looking around my house for how I could do this, but I did indeed make the most amazing beehive filled with gold glitter!  I also had little gold bees sewn into my little bear ears and onto my gold bra between my breasts.  I made a huge bee necklace.  It was beautiful and perfect.  The whole costume was so damned cute!

And when the music started, and I came sneaking out wrapped up in a cloak so no one could see my bear ears or my bear costume, I could feel the little girl come to life on that stage.  I saw my audience smile.  I heard them laugh.  I saw them get taken in by the cute little girl on stage who transformed into a playful teddy bear right before their eyes.  When the teddy bear played on the big red yoga ball, they all laughed and played along.  And when I chased my little bear tail around in circles, they giggled.  And with my back to the audience as the fur bra came off and I picked up the beehive to shake it around over my head while I looked over my shoulder and flirted and teased them, I could feel their anticipation......  Then, it happened.  I punched a hole in the bottom of the hive, turned around to face the audience and dumped the "honey" (glitter) all over my body body and they all cheered as I spun my honey dipper tassels.  Success!!!!!!!

Those moments on stage are pure magic.  The give  and take with the audience is pure bliss!  I adore the crowd of regulars.  Having the season start back up is like a huge family reunion, and I am so grateful for them!!!!  I am grateful to Frankly Frankie for providing us with such amazing opportunities.  I love the people I share the stage with.  I love the hugs the kisses the laughter that happens back stage.  I love the family that we create.

And this season, 2 things happened that make me feel so special!  First, I have been struggling with finding a "tag line".  In  Roller Derby, many times your derby name is given to you.  It is like a right of passage.  And I read somewhere that a tag line for burlesque is often given to you by a mentor.  Well that is what happened this week.  Frankly Frankie came up with the perfect tag line for me based on an act that I do (screw it) as well as my silly quirky acts that I keep coming up with... "Leazetta Rose, the screw ball of the Boise Burlesque Scene."  Yes.... that fits me perfectly!!!!  I spend so much of my time being serious.. but on stage, I love being silly and making people laugh!  It's perfect, and I love it!  The other thing that happened tonight, someone asked me for my autograph.  He is a regular to the shows.  He attended the Marvel vs DC show (where I performed in the opening..pre show act) and he asked me to autograph the poster.  Wowzers.  I have never had to sign my stage name for an audience member before.  That felt amazing!  In the last couple of months, people have started recognizing me as a burlesque performer (while I am in street clothes).  That is so crazy to me!

My heart is over flowing tonight!  The amount of love I feel from my burlesque family is amazing.  They truly are my chosen family and I love spending time with them!

My only "complaint" (if I can call it that)... no video was taken tonight of my performance and I didn't get any pictures of me in my bear costume or with my beautiful behive before I punched a whole in the bottom of it.... however, I did get some fun pictures from back stage and with one of my beautiful sisters who did not perform tonight.

 

November 22, 2016 There Is Value In This Pain

First let me say that the last couple of days, maybe even the last couple of weeks have been down right hellish, and I have made quite a spectacle on Facebook.  But you should really see the spectacle I have made in my real life.  I wonder what the neighbors think when they see me running around like a mad woman or hear me screaming and wailing in my back yard.  Facebook gets off easy.

As a writer, as an artist, as a human being I have been met with challenges.  Whether it is dealing with writers block, trying to figure out choreography, or how to make the vision I have in my head become a reality in a piece of art, or just how to figure out how I can keep putting one foot in front of another in order to finish a long distance race... I have always been able to meet the challenges.  So why then, do I feel as though meeting the request (which is not really unreasonable) of someone I love to be excruciatingly painful and feel it is near impossible.  Why do I feel like granting this request feels as though it is censoring my feelings.  Why do I feel as though I am a 3 year old child having its favorite toy being ripped away and then throwing a huge temper tantrum?  Why can't I meet this challenge gracefully, elegantly and peacefully?

Here is what I know.  Grief is selfish.  Grief is hell.  Grief can have a very special way at tearing apart a family.  I'm not talking about just my immediate family.  I have watched it tear apart many families over my life time.  I have seen siblings tear each other apart.  I have seen good marriages crumble to the ground.  I have seen best friends turn on each other after the death of one of their peers.  Why?  Because when people hurt, they look for ways to express it and sometimes they choose to take it out on those that they love.

When one of the women in my close knit social circle died from brain cancer, I was also dealing with my own Dissociative Identity Disorder from something completely unrelated.  We were part of a very close knit circle of friends.  But we all seemed to rally around this friend when she was dieing.  We sat by her bedside in her bedroom in her  home.  We sat around the kitchen table with her kids and her  husband and laughed and drank and just kept everyone company.  We had the 4th of July party in her back yard, with her in her bed dieing...because that is what she would have wanted... she loved the 4th of July and always had a party there where everyone could watch the fireworks from her back yard.  But once she died, anger took hold and ripped apart our circle.  Or more specifically, I was a target for someone's anger.

My therapist, at the time, warned me.  "Martha, when there is a group like that, there is going to be someone who becomes the focal point for the anger that they feel for the loss of the loved one.  Just be prepared."  I thought, "nah, that won't happen."  But sure enough, it did.  And it was directed right at me.  I not only lost my friend who died, but I also lost my social circle.. my support group.. not just for grief for but real life.  And it happened at a time, when I was in emotional need to begin with.  I never felt so alone..... until now.

I realize I am not perfect.  I realize that I over share.  I realize that when I think I am talking about my own life  (which happens to include other people..cause I'm not a hermit) that other people are mentioned in my blog and what I have said has hurt people that I love.  I am sorry that I hurt them.  It was never my goal to hurt anyone from my blog posts.

I have been called disrespectful.  I have been likened to a Psycho Bitch.  I have been asked to completely rethink the way I write my blogs and the words I choose.  I am doing my very best to wrap my head around this.  I saw this great quote today..."From the outside looking in, you can never understand.  From the inside looking out, I can never explain."  That is what I feel about what I write in my blogs.  My blogs are very personal to me and never directed at anyone.  They are about my own experiences and how I feel about those experiences.  When I have tried to protect people from my blog, other readers of my blog have gone to people mentioned in my blog and stirred up shit with them.. when they would have never known it was there (unless someone brought it to their attention).  I have never meant to trash talk anyone, but rather express my feelings about things that have happened.  I realize now that no matter what my intentions were, other people perceive them differently and my words hurt people.  And I'm sorry for that.

I have considered starting a new blog all together, but the idea of separating my grief part of my blog from my real life felt like a part of me was being cut off.  I felt like creating a new blog under fictitious names was not being authentic, and if there is one thing important to the grief process of healing, it is being authentic to yourself and with your feelings.  I felt like I couldn't talk about my son Nick by his name and that hurt more than anything.

All in all, I feel like no one understands how important this blog is to me.  No one understands how important it is to me to be authentic.  No one understands how censoring myself hurts.  Yet, at the same time, I am expected to understand how my words can and have hurt people so I must change.

This is me.  My writing is an extension of me.  But I will do what is best.  I will look at this as a challenge to become a better writer.. to find better words... to think and re-think what I write.

I will do my best to let go of resentment of people who read my blogs and stir up trouble (even if they didn't mean to).   I will do my best to let go of resentment I have in regards to  how this is affecting my relationship with my husband.

The only safe way to express all of my thoughts is to keep it private, but I am not a private person.  The only safe way for me to express all of my thoughts is to hand write it in a journal, but nothing I write is legible thanks to my TBI.  But here's the deal.  I don't write just for me.  I write because I have people tell me that what I write helps them understand or deal with their own grief.  I write because what I put out there provides value to other people.  My pain provides value.

There is that saying, "You have freedom of speech, but you are not free from the consequences from using that freedom."  So, here I am suffering the consequences of using my free speech.  And it is the love that I have for my family that now challenges me to be a better person.. to be a better writer.. to find a safer way to express my feelings.

September 19, 2016 #LegalizeIdahoArt

Six years ago, I started watching burlesque at the Visual Arts Collective.  The show I went to watch was called The Red Light Variety Show.  I was amazed at the performances I saw there.  The show included traditional ballet, pole dancing, hula hoops, comedy, strip tease, and so much more.  I thought to myself, "Wow!  Those women are so brave and beautiful!  I wish I had that kind of confidence!  One day, I want to be on that stage!"

In 2011, I started taking better care of my body.  I started losing weight.  I remember saying on Facebook that one day I was going to be part of the Red Light Variety Show.  But I thought, "First I have to get to my perfect body weight and be fitter.  No one wants to see my fat body on stage."   I started belly dancing that year.  I also started taking dance classes at Ophidia Dance Studio, where I knew the owners there were also part of The Red Light Variety Show.  I would get to the studio early and watched the tail end of Kelly Green's Chair Dance and Burlesque class.  She was one of my favorite performers for the Red Light. I was in awe.  But I was still too self-conscious even to take her class.   My body  never got perfect, and I never joined the Red Light Variety Show.  Instead, it took me another 3 years to take a workshop with Frankly Frankie (one of the founders of The Red Light Variety Show and the founder of Frankly Burlesque).  

I stood in a room with about 4 other women.  We were all nervous about what we might learn.    In that few hours with Frankie, we performed acting and movement exercises that helped us become comfortable not with just ourselves but with the other participants in the room.   We learned a choreographed dance.  We also learned how to twirl tassels.  Learning to twirl tassels meant (for many of us) getting completely topless and taping on pasties over our areolas.  Getting to this state of  undress in front of women you just met is a bit unnerving.  At the same time, it is completely freeing and empowering.  We laughed and giggled as we learned to twirl our tassels.  Each one of us learned to love our bodies just the way they were in that moment.  There was no judgment.  It was pure acceptance.  That night we agreed that we wanted to perform on stage at the next Frankly Burlesque and we made a second date to finish up costuming and choreography.  However, when that date came, Frankie informed me that it was just me willing to go on stage, and asked if I would be comfortable performing a solo.  My answer was a resounding, "Yes!"

For another week or so, I continued working on  my costume.  I spent hours looking through costume ideas on the computer.  I spent hours in craft stores and at my kitchen counter putting together the perfect costume.  Then I was informed that Idaho State Law says we have to keep our "underboob" covered at all times.    This threw a kink into things.  The art..the dance I had learned.. required tassel spinning.  This requires the flesh of my breasts to move in such a way to give movement to the tassels.  How was I going to do that with a full bra on?  I am not the size of a woman that can buy a quarter cup bra and make it look cute.  I am a full figured woman with breasts to match.  I finally found a bra that I had 2 layers to it. One layer was a mesh layer. I was able to cut away the opaque thicker layer and leave the mesh sheer layer in tact.  This, of course, cost more money.  But I was able to do it.

Finally, performance night arrived.  I slipped into my black fishnet stocking, my black sequined panties and my black sheer bra.  I taped on my pasties over the black bra.  Then I slipped on my beautiful feather and crystal bra that I created.  I wrapped my white feather boa around me slipped into my heels and took place on the stage.  On the other side of the curtain, I could hear Frankie introduce me.  The curtain opened, the music started and I performed my dance.  At the end of the dance, I slipped off that feathered bra and stood on the stage in my panties, black bra, and white pasties and spun my tassels to the roar of the crowed.  It was the most empowering thing I have ever done!

My body is not perfect.   Currently, I am a 47 year old mom  and grandma with the body to show for it.  I have stretch marks and c-section scars on my belly.  My breasts have never been perky.  I have cellulite on my legs.  I have gray hair on my head.  And I love burlesque!  I love hearing a song and being inspired to create some silly performance to it.  I love the creation of the costume and the creativity it takes to choreograph a performance.  This is art.  Every bit of it is art.  From the choreography to the costume to the performance itself.  Once it all comes together and I am on stage, there is a conversation with the audience.  There is an authenticity that you can't get in any other performance form.  When I am on stage, and peeling off my clothes, there is intention behind every movement.  There is a story being told.  And when I have to create an act around the laws that were created so long ago, the creative process is censored and hindered.  The conversation I want to have with the audience loses it's authenticity.   As a performer and an artist I become stifled.  

Burlesque is not just stripping for stripping's sake.  It is a powerful medium that can be political, funny, sad, absurd, and yes, sometimes even a bit raunchy.  But this art form is performed in bars where the patrons are at the minimum 18 and up.  Most of the time, it is performed in bars where the patrons need to be 21 and older.  The patrons know what they are coming to see.  They understand there will be stripping and suggestive dancing and material.  They are consenting adults.   The laws, as they stand, say that a woman can not show her underboob in a place that has a liquor license.  Yet, it is perfectly acceptable for a man to get completely topless in the same bar with the same liquor license.  Why?  The law also states that where there is a liquor license involved and liquor being sold, no simulated sex acts may take place.  If that is the case, then most dance bars in Boise need to have their licenses revoked.   These laws are not just out-dated from ages gone by, but they are also sexist.  Not only are they sexist and out dated, but they violate my first amendment to freedom of speech.  The constitution protect my right to create art in the way I see fit.  Burlesque is art.  It is an important medium that allows both men and women to create art that reflects their views on politics, society, religion, relationships, and every emotion felt as a human being!  

Please take a look at the link below and share this blog post.  Let's let the world know how out-dated the Idaho Laws are and support those who are fighting for free speech and free art!  #LegalizeIdahoArt  #UncoverIdahoArt

https://acluidaho.org/art-gallery-theater-and-acclaimed-artist-file-lawsuit-challenging-restrictions-on-live-performance/

September 13, 2016 Words From A Bumbling Athlete

The saga of the painful left knee continues, and today's episode is filled with a sobering reality as well as pride and hope.

I have had three knee surgeries on my left knee.  The first one was in 2000 after a skiing accident dislocated it.  The surgeon did a scope to clean out some cartilage damage, but nothing major was wrong with it.  It healed up quickly and life was good.    In 2008, I had the brilliant idea to go roller skating for the first time in something like 9 years.  I was doing great until a kid cut me off, took me out, and I landed HARD directly on my patella.  Then a few weeks later, I started roller derby.  The pain in my knee became unbearable.  I did some physical therapy, but it never really got better.  I ended up quitting roller derby because the pain was too much and I didn't want to destroy my knee.  In 2011, I decided I would lose weight and pick up running.  I ran and ran and ran until finally it hurt my knee too badly to run.  With another round of physical therapy under my belt, we decided to have a second knee surgery.  This time the surgeon did a lateral tendon release and cleaned up some scar tissue again.  I recovered and went back to running. I was able to complete my first ultra marathon and start training for another one before my back became injured and required a  second back surgery (first one was in 2006).  After my fifth concussion  (due to a cycling accident) in 2013 and my second back surgery in 2014, I said goodbye to running.  However, on New Year's Eve of 2015, my knee decided to act up again.  I wasn't doing anything.  Quite literally, I was doing NOTHING.  I was in a car on a road trip to Seattle for the holiday.  I got out of the car, and my knee was in excruciating pain.  After months of pain,  another round of physical therapy, steroid shots and joint juice shots, we went back into surgery.  More scoping of scar tissue, cleaning out arthritis, and repairing a meniscus.  But that still didn't take care of the pain.  So here we are, 4 months after my last knee surgery, my fourth knee surgery is scheduled for October 17th.  It will be a "knee replacement" or as my doctor calls is a "knee resurfacing".  I have been totally excited about this surgery and the thought of not being in pain anymore.  Then I went to my pre-surgery physical therapy appointment.  And that excitement kind of changed.   I am now feeling a kind of "respect" for what is to come.

Before I go into the change from excitement to respect, let me tell you about my PT appointment.

I had an appointment with a new physical therapist.  As you can imagine, with 3 knee surgeries, a TBI, and 2 back surgeries, I have had my share of physical therapists.  Today's PT was amazing.  I really liked the guy!  I explained to him that I have been going back to the gym and working with a personal trainer.  He asked me what I have been doing with the trainer, and he was not very thrilled.  Doug, my PT told me that some of the exercises I have been doing, while good for a healthy knee, are NOT good for my knee in my current situation.  It won't make my knee worse, but it will make my recovery much more difficult.  He gave me some new exercises to do.  He made adjustments to the ones my trainer has given me and I am totally excited to do these in the gym.  They don't hurt to do them and I can feel my muscles getting stronger.  As I worked with him, I could see him finding humor in my situation.  Maybe it wasn't him finding humor; maybe it was me.

Let's face it.  I'm 47 years old.  I have had 2 back surgeries, 3 knee surgeries and 5 concussions that have resulted in major TBI  issues.  I have gone from couch potato and seasonal skier and or snowboarder with the occasional softball team or volleyball team  and a short stint in roller derby to an ultra marathon runner, endurance cyclist, and dancer.  And now I am looking at a knee replacement.  I was in a PT office that, for the most part, was filled with elderly patients.  I felt as though I was the youngest person in the world to have a knee replacement.  While I know that is not true, that is what it felt like.  And quite honestly, I find it a bit humorous.  When I talked to Doug about my adventures in sports, I saw the light in his eyes.  I saw the amazement.  I don't look like your typical athlete.  Nor do I look like your typical dancer.  But, none the less, I am these things and my body has paid the price.  Doug just looked at me and said, you are strong, and I have no doubt you will recover quickly.  That alone made me feel so  much better!

I really do feel like a "bumbling athlete"....rolled ankles, TBI, knee surgeries, back surgeries.....seriously.  But it's all good.  Why?  Cause I am an athlete.  I am a dancer.  I live my life to the fullest, and it sure beats sitting on the couch and watching life pass me by!

Oh ya.. back to the change in feelings about my surgery.  I was excited to finally have this surgery and stop being in pain.  I was excited about being able to get back to the things I love.  Then I met with Doug AND I spoke to the hospital where I will be having my surgery.  First Doug tells me that I will have a full leg brace when I come out of surgery and I will be using a cane or a walker.  He said that I will need to learn how to roll out of bed (but I already know how to do that thanks to all of my other surgeries).  He told me how I will have to sleep to avoid extraordinary pain.  It was sobering.  Then I came home and spoke to the hospital.  Apparently I have to go to a class about my knee replacement where I will learn how to move correctly in order to not injure myself after surgery and to recover faster.  I have to go to a class?    It all began to sink in.  The excitement I had been feeling started to dissipate and in its place respect or reverence for what this surgery really is.  It is going to hurt like hell.  Recovering, while I am strong and hungry for a healthy knee, is going to hurt like hell.  In ALL of my surgeries (3 c-sections, 3 knees, 2 back, 1 hysterectomy, and even in my TBI) I have been hell bent on the quickest recoveries.  I have been hell bent on "return to sport" as quickly as possible.  I have been hell bent on getting up and being back to normal as quickly as possible.  But this surgery is the biggest surgery I have ever had.  The scar will be bigger than any I have.  The pain will likely be more than I have ever experienced.  And it is vital that I start exercising my knee as soon as I wake up and move to my own room that I start moving my leg and start my physical therapy exercises.  The results of not doing these things is very sobering.   My PT is positive that I have what it takes to recovery quickly and completely.  He says I am strong and ready.  He insisted that I work hard (and smart) for the next 4 weeks to make sure I am strong so I can recover quickly.  So there is hope.

I am optimistically sober and I am totally ready to have this surgery!

September 12, 2016 Just Some Random Thoughts

Hi, y'all!  I'm  not sure any of this is going to make sense.  So read at your own boredom or risk.  I have had alot of things floating around in my head lately.  Some of them make sense while others do not.  And I just need to get them out of my head to maybe shed some light on a few things (for myself...)

It's been a lonely couple of weeks.  My bestie was out of town at Burning Man..my other bestie up and moved to Texas but we have chatted quite a bit, and I am so very grateful for him.  But things have been weird in "friendville" lately.  It's been lonely.  Oh wait, I already said that.  I have friends.  I have a big circle of people.  But the issue is, most of them work or they have younger kids at home or they are traveling.  I find myself at home with lots of thoughts to myself.  That is not necessarily a good thing.  For that matter, Facebook is not really a good thing either. Other friends I have on Facebook are sharing things on facebook that I find kind of shocking... well more shocking that they think that way. It's a weird revelation.  There is a reason we are told never to discuss politics, religion and sports in public.  LOL  I find myself feeling unsafe sharing my thoughts on facebook... or even my blog.  So I just keep it to myself or let it all out when Tracy gets home, and his response is.. "Get off of facebook!"

Since my last post on here, I had a really ugly break down.  I mean REALLY UGLY!  I don't think words can do it justice.  I ended up walking out of my house and "disappearing" for I don't know how long.  I really only walked to the park at the school in my neighborhood, but I left without my phone and didn't tell anyone where I went.  I sat on a bench by one of the baseball diamonds and just cried.  I cried for hours.  One man and his son asked if I was okay.  I found a way to muster a smile and assure him I was okay.  But I was far from it.  For those of you who don't know, I have PTSD and have had dissociative identity disorder (DID).   The DID has not been an issue in a very long time (at least while in a sober state).  But that night on the bench, I checked out.  It's not full on "differnet personality", it is more like I am trapped inside of my brain, and my brain and body refuse to function the way I tell it too.  It shuts down.  I can not talk and I have to either fight my way back to reality and in control of my actions or I have to sleep it off.  Well, while I was crying on this bench as the sun set and it got dark and cold, I checked out.  At some point, Nate came by and found me.  He sat next to me and I was scared of him and scrambled and turned away from him.  (He was so young when I had personality changes; he does not ever remember me with these issues so this was new to him.) Poor kid.  He thought I was mad at him  (for something he had done earlier before I freaked out).  I felt so bad for him.  When he left, I just kinda laid down in a fetal position on the bench.  Later he came back with a blanket and put it on  me.  I still could not talk or blink. Snot was rolling down my face and I was unable to clean it up.  I had completely checked out.  Eventually, Tracy found me.  At first he was pretty mad at me then he realized I was checked out.  He somehow got me off of the bench and got me walking home, but he had to pretty much hold me up.  It was ugly.   I was finally in my bed, completely clothed.  I was fighting to come back to reality. I needed to tell my son that I was not mad at him that this was not his fault.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't talk.  I fought hard, and finally won enough control to jump out of bed and run into Nate's room.  The look on his face was horrifying.  He saw my eyes.  He knew something was wrong.  He knew it wasn't me.  He had no idea what was going on.  I just wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life as I cried.  I needed him to know that I loved him.   I some how climbed the stairs to give Omi a hug but she was in the shower.  I just went back to bed... and slept it off.

The next day, I was back to "normal".  I was able to explain (as best I could) to Nate what had happened and that it was not his fault.  And, I went back to taking my anti-depressants that the brain doctor gave me after I had my hysterectomy.  I also went back to taking my estrogen (which I had not been taking).    Have I mentioned lately, how much I hate pills?

Anyway, I guess I was depressed.  I know that I have been profoundly mourning my son.  I had been dealing with alot of anger.  There have been alot of feelings and it all just became too much (which is why I checked out).

All of this happened right before I was supposed to perform on the burlesque stage.  It took everything I had to get back up on that stage.  I really just wanted tot say on the couch.  I managed to get dressed up.  I managed to get to the venue. I managed to smile.  While I checked in with the bouncer and had him check off my  name on the ticket list, I saw that Suzy was coming.  I didn't think much about it other than I was glad she was getting out of the house.  Then later when people were coming in, Tracy told me that Suzy and her boyfriend were sitting next to him.  Okay.  I saw Suzy walking around and I gave her a hug and told her I was glad to see her out.  I was busy fluttering around before the show..  like I always do. Nervous energy...and visiting with guests at the show.  Then I got on stage and I smiled and I performed.  I am always happy when I get on stage.  At intermission I made a point of catching Suzy's boyfriends eye and waving and smiling at him.  And that is when my night turned.  He saw me and actively turned his back on me.  When I went to sit beside Suzy and talk to them, he actively avoided me and gave me the cold shoulder.  His parents were there, his Mom said hi and was pleasant, but he was rude.  As the show went on and he heckled my friend on stage, I became increasingly annoyed and angry.  "How dare he come to a show that I am in and treat me that way?"  "They don't come to shows in months and when they do it's with his parents and they sit next to us.  Going to shows used to be our family thing..now she is here with another family."   I was so glad that I did not have to get back up on that stage that night.  I was so pissed/hurt. What did I do to him?  It was all I could do to go out and dance at the after party that night.  As a matter of fact, I just danced alone most of the night.. using dance as my therapy.  But I was still so upset.  Heavy hearted.  A couple of days later, I find that his mom had unfriended me on Facebook.  What did I do?  I really don't know.  And I guess it really doesn't matter.   But my heart breaks.  When he started dating Suzy, he promised me he was not going to take her away..that he only wanted to add to our family and that he wanted to honor Nick's memory and that he loved and missed Nick.  Well instead....our family has been torn apart.  It has been made pretty clear that as long as Suzy is dating him, we will never be able to have family gatherings with Suzy.  We can see Suzy without him..but not with him around.  My heart breaks, but I have to move on.  My family has to move on.  Naomi misses the sister she thought she had.  Nate misses Suzy.  Tracy still sees her on occasion at lunches.  But that is it.  And to be honest...now that she is back to attending burlesque shows... I am just not sure I can handle being on stage with him present.  I don't know if I will be able to smile and be happy.  I am seriously considering giving in to that and not performing anymore.

With that said, I have a performance coming up in a couple of weeks.  A new act I have been working on.  I have been dragging my feet when it comes to performing....mostly cause my heart is hurting and finding the joy it takes to practice is difficult.  I know once I am on the stage, it is fine.  But the getting to that point is very difficult for me right now.  But I do love this act.  And it will be the last time I get to perform before I have knee surgery.. so perform I will!

That's the other thing.  Knee surgery!  I get to finally have that knee replacement.  Well, the doctor calls it "knee resurfacing".  The bottom of my femur will be shaved and have a metal plate put in place.  The top of my tibia will be shaved and have a plastic "cushion" put in place with a fin that goes down into the bone to hold it in place.  He says I will feel like going to the grocery store within 4 weeks.  Let's hope so!  My knee is cranky, as usual.  But all of the work I have been doing at the gym is helping.  I see my legs getting stronger.  I see my balance betting better.  These are good things!  I am really hoping that my knee will get better faster than 4 weeks...thanks to all of the exercise before hand.

I do have alot on my mind.  Some of it is just this nagging feeling like I am searching for something.  I don't know what it is.  I have tried to sort it out, but it is not there.  Maybe its just a sense of restlessness.  I don't know.  I do feel a bit lighter after my break down.  Maybe I just needed to cry, cause honestly I had not had a cry like that.. not at all....since Nick was killed. Ya, I have cried.. but not like that... It was good for me.

So here it is.. autumn is just around the corner.  It's my favorite time of year.  I really want to go hiking up to Stack Rock before my surgery. I just don't know when.  My weekends are pretty booked with weddings, performance, and Omi's flag stuff.  And I need a friend to go with me cause I don't know how to get there on my own... nor should I go alone (thanks to my knee).  I need a friend who can handle my slowness.  I want to get out and enjoy this time of year before I am stuck in the house recovering.  The gym is important...but man I am such an outside girl!  If Brandon was here, he would go with me. LOL

Ah well.  I guess I should get off of this thing and get to work on finishing up the costume for my upcoming performance.  Thanks for listening to me vent.

August 28, 2016 Third Time Is A Charm

I have tried writing this blog twice already and both times I have just deleted the entire thing.  Why?  Because sometimes I feel like what I write is whiney and indulgent.

I have been struggling with grief and grief related depression.  It has pretty much zapped me of anything positive (at least emotionally).  I have been dealing with feelings of guilt, both guilt I have assigned to myself and blame I have assigned to others, when in reality, I know it is no one's fault that Nick is dead.. .except for the lady who hit him.

Before anyone says anything about it being nearly 2 years since his death, and I should "move on", I just need to say this.  I thought that after the 1 year anniversary, all of my grief would just *poof*.    I thought that anything over a year was self-indulgent and whiney.  But in reality, thanks to some reading I have done, I have learned that year 2 of grief can be worse than year 1.  I have also learned that grief from losing a spouse can take 2 years to recover from while losing a child can take 5 years.  (Let's hope it doesn't take 5 years for me!)  Anyway.. so before some of you start saying, "It's time to move on",  just slow your role.  I am doing the best I can with what I have.  I can guarantee you that.

I won't lie; that first night when I found out my son was dead, I worried about many things.  One of the things I worried about was my marriage.  I have seen marriages dissolve in the months after the loss of a child.  I didn't want that for my marriage.  Year 2 of our grief journey has proven to be a bit difficult.  Tracy and I grieve differently and at different times.  We both deal with things differently.  It can be difficult.  I talk (entirely too much).  He doesn't talk at all.  When he does talk, he is afraid it will bring me down.  Communication has been hindered.  Lots of things have been affected.  And it does put a strain on our marriage.  I'm not saying our  marriage is in deep doo-doo... I'm just saying, that the strain is there and we have acknowledged it and are doing our level best to work through this.  
Here's the deal.  In normal, every day life, people are continually changing.  In a marriage, you seldom change at the same rate.  That change, no matter how big or small, can put a strain on a marriage, and sometimes can even destroy it.   In order to make it through things, spouses need to realize what is going on and be patient with each other until the other catches up.  Now when something HUGE happens, like losing a child, change can not be denied.  Individuals change. That can't be ignored.  When the married couple comes out on the other side of the grief and see that their spouse is different, it requires getting to know that person the way they are and loving them in their new version.  More importantly, it requires that that each person loves the change that happens within themselves.  Or at least, they have to continue loving themselves in order to love another.  This is really hard, at least for me.  I see the change in me, and to be completely honest, I am not sure I love the person I have become.

I know I should not live in the past.  I know I should live in the present.  But I miss the "happy, every day positive" person I used to be.  Now it feels like I am faking it when I try to be that person.  My temper is shorter now.  My fuse is easily lit.  I lack the patience I used to have.  And my compassion is in a smaller scale.  I try.  I really try.  But man, it's hard.  I feel more selfish now.  I don't like that very much.  But I also feel like I don't have much to give anymore.  I feel like I barely have enough for myself and my family.

Then there is the blame/guilt game.  For about year now, I have (unwillingly) been placing blame for Nick's death on someone I love.  I won't go into who and why.  Mostly because I realize it's just a way for me to try and find some rationality for Nick being gone, and really there isn't any.  Then I started a new train of thought.  "It's my fault."  It's my fault.  I never should have mentioned to Nick about the idea of moving to Florida and living with my mom while he finished college.  If I had not done that, then he would not have gotten married to Suzy so soon.  If he had not gotten  married to Suzy and moved to Florida, then they would not have had the issue with only 1 car that was a stick that she would not drive.  If that had not been an issue, he would not have gotten rid of his car to get a car for Suzy to drive and a motorcycle for him.  If he had not gotten a motorcycle, then the accident wouldn't have happened and he would still be alive.  So see... there it is.  It is my fault.  I am the reason my son is dead.  Instead of having my mom move here (like she was wanting to do back then), I put the seed in Nick's head to move there and live with her... and that is what started this spiral into his death.  Now, not only is my son dead, but my mom is living here and she is depressed because she misses her friends.  I am watching her health decline.  If I had moved her here all those years ago, maybe things would be different for her.

Something else that hit me in the last couple of weeks has been the realization that Nick lived with my mom for half of his life.  I had not really taken that into consideration when it comes to my mom and grief.  Right after Nick was killed, my mom had said something to the effect that she doesn't' cry over dead people.  They are just gone.  My mom and I have had conversations about this, and she says that I didn't take it right.  We have cleared that up.  But recently, she drove by the remainder of a motorcycle accident.  I heard the grief in her voice.  To my mom, it might very well feel  like she lost one of her own children.. not "just a grandson".   We moved in with my parents when Nick was just a few months old.  WE lived there for 6 years.  Mom was a huge part of his life.  She watched him for us.  She was there when he learned how to swim.  She was there when he learned how to surf (before he could swim).  She was there for all of those firsts.  Then he moved back in with her when he was in college.  And though Nick and Suzy spent most of their time in their separate part of the house, my mom was there to witness and be part of a big chunk of his life...closer than most grandparents get to their grandchildren.  So ya....I bet the grief is huge with her.  Add to that, the huge move across the country leaving behind her friends and extended bonus family.  Her move was necessary, at least I believe it was.  But I also think I reacted selfishly.  I moved her entirely too soon after Nick's death.  WE made that decision FOR her.  But I also know that I did the best I could for her, for my family, for myself.  I had my brother's there when Nick died.  They saw how mom was.  We all agreed she needed to not be alone.  But man, I kinda feel guilty about that.  I kinda feel guilty about how much she misses her friends in Florida.  I am watching her decline here.  I thought she would improve.  And for a while she did.  But recently, there has been a change and I am worried about her.

I know.  I know.  I can't live in the past.  And I can't live in the land of "what ifs" and "only ifs".  I can only live in this moment right now.

Here is what I tell myself to try and get over this guilt and blame game.  Tracy and I have had motorcycles since Nick was 4 years old.  He grew up with them.  They were part of his lifestyle.  It was obvious that one day he would own a motorcycle...whether it was because he needed a cheaper way to travel or because he just wanted one for the pure enjoyment.  He was going to own one.  His death is not my fault.  But then, after I tell myself this, I hear myself say.  Well okay, if you NEVER had motorcycles in your life, Nick would not have grown up with them in his life resulting him having one for himself.    This isn't true either.  Tracy never had motorcycles in his life and we have been riding them for over 20 years now.  So ya.

I know.  It's not my fault.  I need to let that go.

Tracy and I have both been dealing with the difficulty of getting back on our motorcycle.  We ride, but its difficult.  Tracy doesn't like to ride like he used to.  And I love the idea of riding, but the minute I get on the back of the bike, I am terrified that some idiot will cut us off and cause us to crash.  I am on constant alert, and not in a good way.  It is very hard for me to relax on the back of the bike.  I am terrified that we will have an accident and that one or both of us will be killed or that one or both of us will be disabled.  I am terrified that my children will be traumatized further by another motorcycle accident.  I have visions of my children crying.  It is horrible.  Part of me says, it is time to sell the bike and just get another vehicle.  Then the other part of me says, "don't let this take away your joy."  But the truth of the matter is, every time I get on the bike, I remember my son is dead because of the bike.

I also have this very horrible thought process that makes me feel guilty.  In the last couple of months, I have had 2 friends have children run away.  I have 2 other friends with children suffering and in the hospital.  I find myself being "thankful" that Nick died immediately in his accident.  I find myself feeling guilty for feeling relief that Nick didn't lay in a hospital fighting for his life.  I feel guilty and selfish for thinking how badly that would have hurt all of us if he had been in the hospital for a long time.  I watch my friends and I hear their stories about all of the worry and fears....and I think.. "God, I'm glad we didn't have to go through that."  What does it say about me that I would rather live and deal with grief than that kind of worry (that is not just temporary..but life long in some cases).

Yesterday, I was shopping in a craft store and they already had Christmas decorations out.  Not crafts to be done, but actual christmas decorations.  And I about broke down in the walk way.  I don't want to face Christmas this year.  This year, it will be the first time we don't have Suzy as part of our family.  Yes, there is grief around the changing of relationships with Suzy.  Honestly, it is still very confusing when it comes to Suzy. She and I have still not really talked.  The only person in our family that she talks to is Tracy and it seems as though (unless something drastic happens) the relationship is at an impasse.  That hurts.  And yes, I have to grieve that loss too.  So the holidays are not looking so fun.  While I was on the motorcycle today, I thought about Thanksgiving.  I really just wanna go on vacation and do something non-traditional.  Is that fair to my kids who want tradition?  Nope.  But man, I just want to ignore the holidays or do something completely different and distract ourselves.

What all of this boils down to is this:  I have been struggling.  I hate that I am blogging about this STILL.  I want to blog about something happy for a change. LOL.  I am doing the best I can.  I am back in the gym and treating myself better.  I am working out.  My body is changing shape (for the better).  I am eating better.  The whole family is eating better (for the most part).  But it takes everything I have to get my ass into the gym. It takes everything I have to get myself to the grocery store and then actually cook.  I don't even want to go to parties right now.  We forced ourselves to go to a party a couple of weeks ago, and as fun as the party was, Tracy and I were pretty much miserable.  (Not the parties fault.)  I don't even want to do burlesque. I don't want to do anything but hide in a world of Pokemon hunting and TV shows.  But I am forcing myself out of the house.  I am forcing myself to do things.  I am afraid to talk to my friends.  I am afraid that they are going to get tired of me.  I know I am tired of me.  LOL  No, I do not want to go to therapy.  I don't think I need therapy.  I know what is going on.  I know it will take time.  I am doing things I need to do to get better.  But I hurt.  That is all.

August 17, 2016 Everyone Has to Pee Sometime

As I rushed into the ladies room at Joann's Fabrics, shut the stall door and sat down to relieve my aching bladder a weird memory came flashing back to me.

I was a Junior at J.J. Pearce High School.  I had just transferred back to public school after attending a small Christian private school since 6th grade.  Since this was my "home" high school, I knew a few people from back when I went to elementary school with them.  "Knew" is a broad term.  How about, I remembered them, but I was just an unmemorable face in a sea of thousands of faces in that school.  Yes, I said thousands.  My school had well over 3000 students for 10th-12th grades.  And if the truth be told, even my elementary school years were filled with scrutiny and bullying.  I was always looked down on.  So it's no wonder that when I returned to the public school environment, I was both very timid and and unmemorable.

So what does this have to do with the ladies bathroom?

At Pearce, there was a girl's room on the ground floor in the main hall kind of close to the cafeterias.  It's the one you went to, if you were at the cafeterias (yes, we had TWO cafeterias in my high school).  Anyway, I don't remember how many stalls were in this girl's room.  Five maybe?  But it was always packed with girls primping themselves in front of the mirror.  I don't think girl's actually used the bathroom for what it was intended for.  But I remember having to go rather badly, so I went.  And I remember being afraid to pee.  I remember being afraid that someone would hear me peeing and make fun of me and spread rumors about how loud I pee'd.  Seriously?  It's liquid hitting liquid, there is going to be some noise.  But I remember how afraid I was of relieving myself in the high school public bathroom.  I wanted to go through high school under the radar.  I wanted to avoid the bullying of elementary school. I wanted to avoid the name calling that followed me into the Christian school.  I just wanted to have a peaceful last 2 years of high school.  Was that too much to ask?

As I relieved myself at Joann's, this memory came back to me and I contemplated the silliness of my thinking.  I also thought about conversations I had with other students during that year or the year that followed.  I remember how "in your face" people could get.  I remember how important it seemed to be wearing the right clothes, the right perfume, drive the right car, and yes......the all important question, "Have you had sex with your boyfriend yet?"  Navigating high school is like  navigating a mine field.   One wrong step, and you are toast!    I thought about this, and I thought about my daughter who is about to start her Junior year in high school.  That's when I decided I needed to write this blog....for all of the daughter's out there facing the mine field that is high school.

1) Everyone has to pee sometime.  Seriously.  It's okay to go into the bathroom at school and relieve yourself.  No one is listening to you pee and judging you by how loud or quiet you are.  I know it feels like you are under a microscope, but I promise you, the sound of your urination is not one of the things being considered!  So, please, relieve yourself with peace of mind!  It's much better than doing the potty dance!

2) The "right clothes".  I grew up in the 80's.  What was popular?  Keds tennis shoes.  Guess jeans. Coca Cola shirts.  None of these (except maybe the Keds) were inexpensive, and for a girl who was coming from a house with a dad who had been unemployed for a year and a mom who was a secretary, these things were NOT in the budget!  Heck, the cars we drove either had a car door that would fly open when you turned the right direction or the drivers seat was broken and had to be propped up in order to sit up straight in it.  I remember, for whatever reason, my dad had given me a credit card that was in his name.  He told me specifically, "This is to be used for emergency purposes only."  Apparently, matching Coca Cola shirts for me and my boyfriend did not constitute an emergency.  What my dad didn't understand was that every day, I went to school and felt like I was being ridiculed or left out because I didn't wear the right things.  That Coca Cola shirt WAS an emergency of the utmost importance in my teenage world.  With that said... even WITH that fancy shirt, I was still on the outskirts of the high school world.  So what did I learn?  It's not the clothes that earn you friends or make you feel included.  Clothes certainly won't fix the issue so don't freakin' break the bank to buy the right kinds of stuff.

When my son, Nate, was in junior high, all he wanted to wear was named brand clothing from Hollister.  That is so NOT cheap.  I taught him how to shop in the sales section of his favorite  name brand clothing stores.  Eventually, all he ever wore was Hollister.  And you know what happened.  All of the kids who wore it turned on him because he started wearing it.  It's crazy.  High School kids  march to the rhythm of their own drum, and they will change  that rhythm on a whim, without notice.  So stop trying to be like them, and own your own style.  You will feel so much more comfortable in your own skin, if you can learn to stop following the crowd.

3)  Sex.  Sex seems to be a very popular conversation in high school.  Who's doing it?  Who are they doing it with?  Yadda yadda yadda.  Let's go back to my junior year at Pearce.  Remember, I had just left a private Christian school.  At my Christian school, we weren't even allowed to hold hands with someone we were dating much less have sex.  And god forbid we talk about it.  I remember once, I made the mistake of confiding to people who I thought were my friends.  As it turned out, they continued that conversation with other people without me around, and in front of parents and that whole conversation got back to my mom.  Not cool.   So when I got to Pearce, the last thing I wanted to talk about was how intimate I was with my boyfriend (who is now my husband).  I didn't know these people, and seriously, your sex life is your own private world.  It is not to be talked about in school with your friends (or people you think are your friends).  Anyway, in my home-ec class (cooking), I shared a table with 2 girls and 1 guy.  One of the girls insisted that she was dating some college boy with his own helicopter and supposedly the sex was "out of this world".  Maybe the helicopter should have been a red flag, but since my school was filled with high school kids driving brand new BMWs and Mercedes, I didn't see it as being to big of a red flag.  But boy, this girl kept going on and on about the sex and getting hotel rooms with this boy.  Then she would ask me repeatedly if I was having sex with my boyfriend.  "You have been with him for nearly 3 years, surely you have had sex by now!"  My answer was always "No, I'm still a virgin.  We are waiting until we get married."  My answer was a bold faced lie, but it was none of her business.  What I learned that semester in school was this:  The kids who are always bragging about having sex are more than likely NOT having sex and are just trying to impress people (in the wrong way).  And those who ARE having sex are likely not talking about it because.. its a PRIVATE MATTER!   So when you are in school and listening to your friends talk, keep that in mind.  There is always going to be peer pressure to do things, and sex is one of them.   If it's not coming from the person you are dating, it might come from your friends who seem to think sex is cool.  Sex is not a measurement for how cool or not cool you are.  Sex is something that should be shared between people who love each other.  Okay, even that may be a stretch.  Ideally, yes, it should be.  But I also know teenagers who have made very logical, safe and sane decisions to have sex with people they were just friends with.  Obviously, I am not a proponent of abstinence until marriage.  However, I am a proponent of safe and sane sex.  I am a proponent of "No Means NO" and always having consent before any physical touching.   Sex is a grown up thing for people who are mature.  Respect for yourself and for your partner is of the utmost importance.    And yes, ideally, being in a long term relationship is best.  "Long term" means more than 2 weeks or 2 months.  But again, SAFETY FIRST, no matter when, where or with whom!  Condoms ALWAYS....even on top of the the birth control pill!  It's not about just preventing unwanted pregnancy.. its about preventing sexually transmitted infections.  If you want/need to know more, check out Planned Parenthood (they give you free condoms and they have sex ed classes and you don't need a parent to get on the pill or be seen there.)

Oh ya.. and if you hear some boy say... "Me and this girl had sex" (or something like that)  Don't believe him.  For that matter, call him out on his shit!  Tell him that is private and he should not be talking about it.  Most likely, he is telling a lie about the girl, and that really hurts!  Call him out on it!   I don't know why guys think its cool to put that kind of stuff out there... well other than he wants to look all "manly" and crap. But let's face it, a real man doesn't talk about that stuff in public and certainly wouldn't talk about the girl he respects that way.  So ya... call him out on it!  Same thing with the girls; cause, ya, some girls like talking about that stuff too.  Bottom line: Being sexually active is NOT a status symbol!

4) Drinking and Drugs.  In high school BOTH of these are illegal.  You will likely be invited and/or attend at least one party where these things are happening.  If you do decide you want to partake of such things, please do not get behind the wheel of a car.  Don't let your friends get behind the wheel of a car.  Be smart!  If you are going out with friends who you know will be making a choice to drink or do drugs, then please make sure you have a designated driver who will stay sober and sane and make sure everyone gets home safe.  Also, your parents would rather you call them to pick you up than to have the cops call them to tell them their child is dead or has been arrested.  If you are going to do stupid things, be smart about it!  While we are talking about drinking and drugs, if you are at a party, hold on to your own cup and always be the one to get your own drinks.  Be responsible for yourself.  Don't trust anyone at the party.. not even your date.  Your best bet is to avoid these kinds of parties, but if you can't or don't..just keep these things in mind.  Be safe.  Be sane.  Stay alive.

Also..just an FYI:  Boys AND Girls, if someone is drunk they are UNABLE to give consent for sexual activity.  Sexual activity without consent is called RAPE.  Keep that in mind.  There is no excuse for ignorance.. be respectful and know the law!

5) High School is supposed to be some of your funnest years.  But for so many, it is filled with anxiety.  For so many, it is not a safe place.  Even if technically it is safe, sometimes it doesn't feel safe for some kids.  Practice kindness.  Smile at a stranger; you never know, that smile might save their life.  Say hello to a kid you have never met.  Step outside of your comfort zone and try something new this year; you might be pleasantly surprised at the friends you make.  Remember to make time to study, but also remember to make time to relax and have fun.  It seems like high school has turned into this "must work to get into college" thing.  This is true,  college is a very important thing.  But so many kids are over worked and over stressed.  Remember to breathe.  Remember to make time to have some fun.  Go to the dances. If you don't have a date, then get a group of your friends together and go as a group of friends (those are the best kinds of dances anyway).  Take silly pictures. Don't be afraid to be goofy.  You only get one shot at being a teenager, enjoy it!  Be respectful to your teachers, school administration and other students; you are in school to learn and so is everyone else.  Don't waste other people's time.

Now get out there and have a great year!!!!!