Going through the motions

Today is finally the last day of February and I'm happy to say that I made it through the month.  I wish I could say that it all gets better in March but it doesn't.  But my mood tends to slowly be lifted as the month progresses.  On the plus side, I was able to make it through my grandfather's wake.  He looked decent considering how quickly his disease took hold over his life.  Though I did cry a little at the beginning and as I was leaving, it was so good to see everyone and talk with them.  On the negative side, there is still the funeral tomorrow.

I've been asked to read what I wrote about my grandfather at the funeral tomorrow.  I'll admit that I am slightly nervous about it.  Although I know that I'm surrounded by my family who is also grieving along with me, I still don't want to get choked up when I read it in front of everyone.  I practiced it a bunch tonight and I think I've found a rhythm.  I just hope that I don't get caught up in how emotional it will be.   My mom told me that I could always opt out of it tomorrow morning when I get to the church.  She'd just tell the priest that I couldn't do it.  But I know I can and I want to because it is still my grandfather and I want to honor him.

So, with that said I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.  Please keep me in your thoughts tomorrow morning.

Eve of a wake

Life is fleeting.  Even so I find myself seeming to want to rush through life.  Rather than searching for wedding gifts or favors or songs, I'm searching blueprints for homes under 1200 square feet.  That and reading about decorating small spaces have consumed my present time.  I suppose it's better than harboring thoughts that are far from healthy.  I'll admit that right now I'm having a hard time thinking about the wedding because all I can think about is that my grandfather won't be there.  He so badly wanted to be there and I find it painful that he won't be able to see us marry.  Even worse, I can't help but think about how it will be the very first event that my grandmother will have to attend without him.

It saddens me to know that what I hope to be one of the happiest days of my life will probably be one of her most painful.  Of course, I know that she'll be happy for me.  But to go to wedding alone for the first time in over sixty years.  My wedding is now almost eight months away so it's not like one of my cousins will have a baby before then.  I just hate the fact the first family function she will attend after the funeral of her husband will be the celebration of her granddaughter finding one.   I can't help but feel for her.  It's made the wedding planning process stall a bit.

My grandfather's wake is tomorrow and I hate the fact that I feel so incredibly reluctant to go.  Though, it will the first time the whole family will come together in who knows how long.  We get together every Christmas and we are close considering just how large of a family we are but there's always one or two people who are unable to make it.  This will be the first time I see my cousin Adam again in years.  This just isn't how I want to see them sharing my grief.  Witnessing the pain of our parents and our grandmother.  One the other hand, we'll all be there to support each other.  Perhaps it will continue to bring us closer but honestly, I'd rather use bowling as a family bonding activity.

Lingering afterthoughts

What does one write after the death of a loved one?  Honestly, I'm at a loss for words and feel like I have been all day.  The nerve endings of my emotions tingle with the faintest touch.  Overall though I'm doing alright.  Just before I posted last night, I had an episode of crying but today is better.  However, now I truly don't really know what to write.  It's like I got it all out yesterday.  

However, does one paragraph constitute a post?  It's not that I lack the thoughts or the feelings to express but more that I'm unwilling to express them in a forum that can and will be read by others.  It goes back to the beginning.  I can choose what I will or will not post.  There will come a time when I've processed these feelings and I will look back.  Just because I'm not writing them down does not mean that I will forget them.  Maybe when the time comes, I'll be able to get these feelings out more articulately or more eloquently.  Right now, they are jarbled and full of incompletion and that's okay.   The answers will come at some point and when they do I'll be more ready to handle them.   

For now, though I think I just have to settle with yet another short post.  

Eulogy for Grandpa

My grandfather passed away today.  My work and my coworkers are amazing.  Although I was uncertain of my feelings while he was sick, I'm definitely certain of them now.  I don't really want to discuss my feelings at the moment though so I'm not going to try.  What was interesting was that the first thing that I wanted to do after I cried for a bit was write and so I wrote:

As a family, we would be considered among the lucky ones.  We are enormous; complete with brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and cousins a plenty.  Today we have all come together in honor of a man who not only helped to create this beautiful family but a man who loved and cherished each and every member.    My grandfather had numerous amazing attributes, but his most prolific was that above all; he was a family-man.   Everything he did, he did for his family.   Though I never specifically asked him, everything about him told me that we were his pride and joy. 

Some of my greatest memories of my grandfather took place at Sebago Lake where I would often spend weekends living with him and grandma.  I’ll never forget how every morning; I’d wake up to him singing.  He was always singing or humming some show tune from his most favorite musicals.  It was always a great joy, when he would notice me and my sister and cater his song specifically to us.  After eating the delicious breakfast prepared for us, I’d run down to the beach with his songs lingering in my ears.  It seems so simple but he continues to live in me through those songs for I already find myself singing my favorites to Dave and will most likely sing them to my children if and when I have them. 

 This past Christmas, I gave him a card.  It was just a little something and at the bottom I thanked him for everything and expressed how happy I was to share Christmas with him and grandma this year.  It brought tears to his eyes because he read what wasn’t written but is found deeply within my heart and that is how much I loved him.  His love and appreciation for his family was and will continue to be a constant reminder of what is truly important during our short lives here.  More than anything, I think that is the most valuable lesson he taught me.  

As anyone who has planned a wedding knows, sometimes the smallest detail can cause a mini meltdown.  So far, I’ve yet to experience this but I’m almost positive it is due to grandpa’s unspoken lesson: all that really matters are those you love and not whether you have $500 centerpieces.   As I plan my wedding, I continue to remember grandpa’s face as he danced with grandma on his eightieth birthday.  The love in his eyes as he looked down on her, mouthing the words to the song are ingrained in me.  Then, just in case anyone didn’t see it on his face he declared, “I love this woman” to everyone in the room.  That vivid moment will forever live as one of the best moments in my life.

The stories that we could all share about him would be so varied and heartfelt that if we shared them all we’d be here for weeks.  Emily Dickinson once wrote, “Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.”  My grandfather will remain immortal living vicariously through each of us.  It is within our memories, stories, and lessons that we hold within us and pass down to our children that he will continue to survive.  It is his life, not his death that he would want us to remember so it is with this little tune that I leave you all:

“Good Mornin’, good morning, good morning”

Sunbeams will soon smile through

Good Mornin’, my darlin’ to you.”

Home is where the Heart is!

Every once in a while Dave and I have a discussion about owning a home.   Today's discussion started because I  found a small two bedroom-one bath house that we might possibly be able to rent for $1200 month which is a steal in this area.   Both Dave and I share the same thought: homes are just too big around here.  Trying to find something small and quaint is practically impossible.  Cheaper houses in this area are in the low $300,000s and often are such massive homes that require a ton of work to update and remodel.

As a result, I found myself considering buying a tiny house again and then buy a plot of land in which to place it for some time.

The Lusby House is my favorite of all the tiny houses and it has a lot of potential.  What I love is that if we chose to purchase an already made one, it would cost $49,997 and would cost almost nothing for utilities since it's so small.  It also comes with all the connections necessary to hook it up to public plumbing systems.  Ideally, we'd buy the plot of land, buy a ready made house in California and spend a couple of weeks driving across the country with it.  No hotels required.  Just 24 Wal-Mart parking lots needed.  Of course this would not be permanent option at all.  My idea is that we would upgrade and possibly make this a vacation home.

The biggest downside to this house is the kitchen and lack of laundry facilities.  Though we could purchase a microwave, it doesn't come with one.  It also doesn't come with an oven which would place a damper on any potential plans on learning how to cook.  However, we basically use our oven solely to bake cookies and cakes so I suppose we could live with that.  We'd also have to go to a laundry mat for laundry.  It also be more difficult to have guests over but again we do very little of that now anyway.  I know people who read this would think we're absolutely crazy for even humoring this idea but I think it would really work for us in the beginning.

Really, the biggest thing would be purchasing a plot of land because really, if it is completely ridiculous to buy the land then there really isn't a point to this at all.  So I then went on a search for land plots and I've found a couple though they aren't cheap.  The plot of land which is located in Billerica (only a town away) costs $170,000.  I know that seems super expensive for land without a house but to me, I love it.  Between that and the cost on my Lusby House would bring the total cost to $220,000.  Again, seems like a whole lot but it's hard to purchase a condo for that amount in this area.   When I was house hunting, the cheapest house I saw was $299,000 with only two bedrooms, one bathroom, and needed a ton of work.

What Dave and I are thinking would be to live in our tiny home on our small plot of land for a couple of years before choosing to possibly upgrade.  Depending on our finances we could choose to purchase and build one of their small houses or have a larger house built for us.  I've always wanted a home that was environmentally sufficient and it's very difficult and super costly to upgrade already existing homes to those standards.  We could possibly build another smaller contemporary home on the land if we wanted.  Or, like I wrote earlier, purchase the plans to build one of their smaller homes like the Sebastarosa shown below.  This house does come with everything I would really require in a home.  I really can't even begin to tell you just how happy I am that Dave also is just as enamored with this idea as I am.

Really, how cute is this?

    

Slump

Today was a difficult day for me.  I hate having difficult days on my day off but then, having difficult days on the days that I work really wouldn't be that much better.  My day started with my waking to some horrible dreams.  In almost all of my dreams this morning the prominent theme seem to be how ugly I am.  I feel like everyone I encountered during it either told me straight out that I was ugly and didn't deserve to marry Dave or we were surrounded by really hot girls and I felt completely inadequate.  When the dream did turn sexual Dave chose me over the other hot girls so I suppose that's something to hold on to but when I woke up I felt super depressed and lack motivation to do anything but sit and peruse Facebook.

This also turned out to be a bad idea because Facebook for me is both a blessing and a curse.  I love being able to see where old friends whom I've completely lost touch with are and how they are doing.  However, sometimes after surfing through the waves of social media, I end up feeling worse than when I began.  First, it started with me looking at the pages of people who I feel like I missed opportunities with.  The thoughts of "what if" abound during this time frame.  "What if I had gone to that dance?  What if we hadn't had that fight?  What if I hadn't unintentionally mistreated or done something bitchy to so and so?  What if I had called that person back?"  During these moments, I berate myself for my mistakes with others.  I look at these people and they seem like they'd be wonderful people I wish I hung around with and I think would thoroughly enrich my life but they've moved on with their lives.

The second thing that can happen when I spend too long on Facebook is that I begin to think of everything I'm not and everything I wish I could be.   I wish I hadn't given up skating and I could some awesome pictures of me on the ice, I wish I learned how to play a musical instrument because maybe I would be able to write my own songs, I wish I could be that girl who looks so put together, I wish I was better at yoga, I wish I had her body, hair, whatever.  Now, this doesn't happen every time I go on Facebook.  Most days I can combat any feelings that may creep up with some simple logic: no one is as put together as they appear.  There are just some days, like today when my defenses are lowered and I find myself being affected.  Really, I allow my mind to go crazy with negative thoughts and do little to try and stop them--I spend my time trying to justify my down feelings instead of just letting them be.

Tomorrow will be better.

What's in a name?

Today was full of all kinds of productive thoughts.  Even as I sat at work, I felt inspired by the names of the numerous cardholders I was assisting or monitoring for potential fraudulent activity.  For those who down know, the hardest part of any creative piece is naming the characters.  I have this incredibly strange desire to choose the name that fits a particular character because after all, our names are what first define us.  It's what makes changing a name so powerful.

It's our names that we first learn to respond to, write, and identify with so it makes sense that they would mean so much.  Maybe it was just me and a few friends but I think many children get to an age where they begin to question the names their parents gave them.  I, personally, at the age of nine or ten didn't particularly feel like my name quite suited me.  The name Isabella was the name that my ten year old self would have chosen given the option.  However, over the years I grew into and really began to appreciate my name and feel it's beauty.  Still, when I first had to say, "Hello, this is Denise" when I answered the phone my name felt newly foreign.  Though I had grown accustom to hearing my name, actually saying it over and over felt strange and was totally new to me.  Now, after two years of repeating it countless times a day, it comes as naturally as wiggling my toes.  

Maybe it was just like that for me.  Perhaps I just have a strange sensitivity to the meaning and feeling within a name.  Just so much of my identity feels tied to it after twenty six years.  Since college, I contemplated what I'd do with my name once I married.  In so many ways, changing your name to your husband's can carry with it a new identity.  You are no longer Jessica Stevens.  You're now Jessica Joyce, a brand new person.  For some, I think it comes naturally.  Maybe they look at acquiring a new name the way some look at ringing in a new year: full of hope and possibility.  They are now one with their husband and no longer alone.  

For me, even as a young girl I never quite enjoyed the notion of taking my husband's name.  I guess I just didn't understand it.  Why did we have to change our names but they didn't?  What if our last name was better than theirs?  Still, as I got older I understood the ancient history behind it where a woman was nothing more than property passed from the father to the husband.  Though no longer viewed like that in today's society, the tradition stuck and I found myself scribbling my first name with multiple boys' last names throughout high school trying to get used to the idea that one day my name could very well be theirs.  

When I got into college, I met some incredible professors who decided to not take their husband's name.  Though they married, they kept their own last name.  After all, they did achieve doctorate degrees under their birth name and the name on the degree doesn't change when you married.  Thinking that I too would have attained at least a masters degree by the time I married understood this and began to question whether or not I'd change my name at all.  At the time, my college boyfriend and I were very different people and though I loved him a great deal I always saw myself entirely separate from him.  

After dating Dave (my current fiance) for a year, I began to dislike the whole concept keeping my name when I married.   It was like though we may have different personalities, hobbies, fears, and talents I couldn't shake the feeling that we were connected.  Our personalities, hobbies, strengths, weakness, and talents seemed to weave us together like a blanket of red and blue that from far away looks purple.  Keeping my birth name with him keeping his didn't seem like enough to me anymore.  What if we have children? Who's name would they take?  If they took his, would feel like an outsider with my own family? Would I correct my child's friends who call me Mrs. Husband's Last name?  If he took my name, would he feel like the interloper?  

Though we had briefly discussed this topic while we were dating, it became something that really needed to be considered once we got engaged.  It was suddenly not something I could contemplate.  As soon as we set the date, it became the day of reckoning.  I would have to choose what I would be called for the rest of my life.  Though, I no longer embraced the idea of us each keeping our own last name, I still had an issue with taking his.  It didn't help that my first name with his last name didn't flow quite right. I wouldn't be "Julia Gulia" but it just didn't seem to "fit."  Traditionalists insist that they don't hear the strange "sssss" sound that happens when I say it, but I do.  A few close friends also admitted it as well.  

More than just the sound of my name, I still felt dissension amongst my convictions that I should just take his name.  My old questions popped up: Why do I have to be the one who changes?  Luckily, I have a man who is more than understanding.  He listened to me trying to piece it together aloud even as I sometimes made sweeping, completely untrue and bitter statements like, "well I guess I have to sacrifice all my individualism while you don't have to change at all..."  Listening to me, we even tossed around the idea that he would take mine.  But then he seemed to have as big an issue with that as I did taking his.  My name isn't conducive to hyphenation either so that was out.  

Finally after months going back and forth always leaving one of us more the slightly dissatisfied, we stumbled upon a new way to combine our names.  We put the beginning part of my name and his full last name together and something just seemed to click.  It worked and the more we thought about the more it grew on us.  In getting married, I am not joining his family nor is he joining mine but we are bringing both families together.  In doing so we are creating what Meg over at A Practical Wedding  calls a baby family and it makes sense to us that we combine our two family names.   Of course, I think deep down Dave would prefer me to take his name because he is a traditionalist but he likes this idea better than the alternatives or me feeling forever disconnected to my own name.   

Not everyone agrees or finds our decision tasteful.  My father and his mother have both verbalized their dislike of this particular option and as a result we faced what would be our very first extended family crisis this past summer when we announced it as a potential idea.  I completely understand where they are coming from but in the end, it's our decision.  It's the name that each of us will have to live with so it's best that we are both happy with it.  I have nothing against women taking their husbands' names and who knows maybe with some other guy and a different relationship dynamic I would feel that option more for myself.   I am just extremely grateful to have a man who not only understands but is willing to make that compromise for me.  

Well, this turned into a far longer post and it wasn't what I intended to discuss at all but now is as good as any.  Though I do have more than an inkling that this topic will probably come up again in the not so distant future.  Maybe after Dave reads this and decides that he actually hates this idea.  

Moment in writing

Here I am again? Another night staring mindlessly at the glaring blue light of the computer screen.  My open blog document waits for my words.  Maybe this is a good way to clear my mind.  When I find myself over thinking everything, I should just open this lovely blog and stare at it for a few seconds.  The anticipation that comes from the knowledge that I need to write something seems to cause my mind to go blank at times.   As I wrote that sentence, I knew I wasn't entirely being honest.  Things do come to my mind but they're like quick flashes of thought.

Sometimes trying to think of something to write about is like standing in the middle of a crowded room with many people having different conversations.  You know that one of those conversations will really mean something to you if you just focus on it and listen.  The problem comes from not knowing where that conversation might be happening.  You pause and listen for a moment and what you hear is about someone's fifty some odd headache and you know that headaches will not be what inspires you so you move on.  In the next conversations, someone is discussing how milk is healthy and how they really want to become healthier in their eating habits but though you agree with their desires, you've already heard that and it's not what you need now.

As you wander further you catch more snippets of conversation that might be interesting to indulge in: the trip to Niagara Falls, the success in finding amazing bridesmaid dresses this week, how most relationships can be salvaged if both parties are willing to devote the time to work at it, how other relationships will never work out because only one person was interested to doing their part, how the hallway to your work always reminds you of The Shining.  These possible lift off points all have potential but they flash by so quickly and when you press pause, it stops but is so blurry that no matter how long you focus on it, you can't get a clear picture.  Or maybe your too busy placing all your focus on some tiny insignificant detail that you can no longer see the picture at all. 

How do I combat this particular problem?  By choosing not to.  Unable to propel myself into a particular topic and continuing to falter with multiple false starts I chose to just stop and write about the moment.  The present moment where absolutely nothing substantial is happening but something is happening all the same.  When I can't get a grip on the past or the future, my mind is reminding me to look at what's happening now. Capture the moment now.  Don't complain about being able to come up with something to write about, discuss what's happening as you try.  It turns out that it's far more productive that complaining.  Now if only I could remember this the next time I complain but I am nothing if not honest here: we all now it will be the first thing I'll forget.  

Something Different

Another bookcase collects dust. 

Elderly fingers gather handwritten

Idealistic journals-- Keepsake letters.  

Musing notes of past questions.  

Remembering smiles, thoughts, uncertainties.

Verbose writings x-ray years.  Zen.

So I tried something new and it was extremely challenging.  Just writing that small poem using the alphabet as the beginning of each word took me over a half hour.  It made me realize that I desperately need to build my vocabulary and choose my words with care.  The importance of the individual words really have to make a statement by themselves but they also are required to work together to convey a certain feeling, tone, or meaning.  I've always known how essential word choice was with poetry, with all writing, but it's always been a challenge for me.  This might turn out to be a very useful exercise.

Dangers of dreams

Like a pumpkin I cut open the top of my skull
My hand along with giant spoons
scoop the seeds, the guts, and the goo.
Now empty and void of all thoughts
I place a small unscented tea light
candle at the bottom, its base.

Lying down on a soft surface
My eyes close; the heaviness of their lids
provide the protective shield from the
mundane sights of the world around me.
Tension inside my shoulders, my thighs
relax and sink more deeply into comfort.

My breathing begins to slow
becoming more rhythmic, gentle, soothing
the way the breath of life should be.
Inside the newly carved cavern
the oxygen helps to ignite a small
flame on the wick of the candle.

The flame flickers to life
blue, orange, red and yellow
begin their tantalizing dance
casting shadows of a dream against
the walls scraped and smooth.

Good, bad, or indifferent
the shadows' dance is a soft luxury
a quiet escape from the normal
monotony of usual thought.
To stay here forever, in the simple
relaxation and sweet distraction
from the world would be
a perceived blessing.

Like the pumpkin, however,
no small candle can replace all that
was removed.  The seeds of
thought are the elixir of life
without which we wither and rot.
Alas, one must awaken back into
the world; if one desires to truly live.

Not feeling very well

I think I may be getting sick (again).  It's strange I don't feel sick but I feel super tired even though I slept until 2pm today (and I didn't go to bed that late).  Also, while at work I felt light headed for no reason.  I mean, I've eaten, I've had enough to drink, I've even had caffeine so I don't know where this feeling is coming from.  There's also no other major symptoms either, my nose doesn't feel any more congested than normal, I don't have a sore throat or a headache.  I mean, my stomach feels a bit funny and I had some issues when I woke up this morning but aside from that I have absolutely no idea.  

I was going to try and write something different than the typical journal entry type post but I'm afraid that I'm going to fall asleep before I finish.  Dave is making me some rice and I'm hoping that maybe getting bit more food in me will help but I don't know.  All I want to do at the moment is lie down and zone out.  Maybe this exhaustion isn't just related to my moods.  I thought it was just the depression that was making it difficult to get up and stay awake but maybe I really am just coming down with some type of bug because psychologically I'm doing okay.  

As a result of sleeping until 2pm and working tonight, I don't really have too much to talk about.  I'd pick a topic but I'm really not feeling up for it.  Two paragraphs are just going to have to suffice tonight.  

"Just keep swimming"

Writing these days seems to be getting harder and harder.  The temptation to just go to bed instead of putting words down on a computer screen was almost impossible to resist this evening.  As of write now, I feel tired and uninspired.  It's as if the self-imposed pressure to compose something is beginning to overpower me recently.  Of course, I should expect this as it does happen every year.  

Despite the really great things that have been going on in my life I still feel out of sorts.  At the time of the positive moment or moments, everything seems well and I feel like I'm doing okay--getting through.  Then I find myself still unable to wake up despite sleeping more than enough hours, burrowing within my more negative thoughts, and I find myself feeling more overwhelmed and down than otherwise.  It's like the general mood of the days tends to be dull, down, and drab with moments of great happiness and excitement instead of the overall good mood with periodic down moments that is more normal for me.  

Last night was the one year anniversary of my mental breakdown.  During the day, some really wonderful things happened.  My second bridesmaid found a beautiful dress to wear for my wearing and we had a very enjoyable evening full of laughter and fun discussions.  However, when I got home I started doing my own thing and suddenly I felt this wave of depression.  Soon, I found it difficult to stay awake and despite getting plenty of sleep the night before I found myself lying down and falling asleep.  When Dave woke me up a couple of hours later, I again just tried to entertain myself but found it more and more frustrating.  

Finally, while having a discussion with Dave things got a little tense and the frustration became overwhelming.  Somehow in the midst of the conversation, of trying to figure out what I'm feeling, I found myself hysterically crying.  Memories of my old relationship came rushing back again from the place where I try to keep them dormant and I felt myself unraveling.  I was partly hoping that this year I'd be okay and compared to last year I was leaps and bounds better.  Still, I found myself in hysterics.  I get that this is par for the course.  My trauma is still far from being integrated and these memories are bound to continue to affect me.  So much of me is just tired of all the negativity.  

Overall, I'm just feeling tired.  Tired of the depressive thoughts, tired of the overwhelming blah feeling.  It's frustrating because I don't feel like myself.  Feeling this way is not normal for me and I really want that regular me that began this journal to come back.  I know that it will as it always does every year but I just will it would happen just a bit earlier than usual.   Still, it's the 17th, I'm more than halfway there.  I have another appointment on Monday and I will continue to cling to the many positive things going on.  Those need to be my focus right now.  I can't prevent these feelings and I can't force them to be something different but I can try and remember that it will get better and to keep moving forward rejoicing in those small moments.  

Letters

Dear Creativity,

Where did you go?  I really miss the relationship we were beginning to cultivate but I feel like you went on a vacation without me.  That's fine, you know but it would just be nice to let me know before you leave so I can harvest ideas for those times when you're away.  Hopefully you're someplace far away and exotic storing all sorts of images and topics to contemplate so I can fully benefit from your return.  

Sadly I can't help but feel like we're playing an overly drawn out game of hide and seek.  Every morning I wake up thinking your just around the corner or hiding behind a large tree and it's just a matter of seeking you out.  I swear, I've tried to find you.  I feel like I traversed all the places you might hide in my mind and yet still you've vanished.

I wouldn't complain normally because you presence was very much enjoyed when you were around.  I'll admit that maybe I didn't spend enough time with you at first as I was trying to move back and forth from creative pieces or journal entry types.  Some might say that if I just stop looking, you'll return.  But like in the initial throws of romantic love, the first break is always the hardest and I'm probably now coming on too strongly, aren't I?

It's a matter of personal space.  We haven't clearly delineated a schedule they way we should have and that's my fault.  However, if you come back I assure you that I will make a more concerted effort.  I can't make any promises because I'm flawed and you should know that now so as to not be surprised later.  Things have just gotten a bit boring around here and I'm in the mood to spice things up.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Love,

Denise

This is nonsense- skip it

Sigh I really don't have anything to write about tonight.  For the past three hours, I've done just about everything aside from actually opening up this page to write.  It's weird because I'm feeling super chatty.  I guess it's different wanting to talk to someone rather than at someone.  I'm in the mood for that volley that a good conversation brings even if it about something silly or nonsensical; I argue that sometimes those are the best conversations.

Of course, I could go into my day which was another good one but I feel like that's all I've been doing this month.  I've only written one creative piece.   It's strange, like I can't focus at all tonight.  My mind has jump wildly from one topic to another.  Though I should be happy that they are all slightly humorous as oppose to troublesome, right?   Each thought swings like a monkey from tree to tree in a tropical breeze.  Gosh, it would be nice if I could go somewhere with that thought rather than just have it be a stand alone metaphor amongst a bunch of other random babblings.

Tonight is one of those nights when I sit here and think, "Am I insane?  Did I really think I could write about something different everyday?"  Obviously the answer is yes as that was the original goal but it is so much more difficult on some days than others.  Thankfully, my coworker is online at the moment and I can juggle between writing here and to her which makes me feel like I'm back in college.  This blog is like the homework assignment I reluctant and unwilling to complete and our chat is my minor distraction that actually allows me to complete it.

I've always found it funny that sometimes especially during times like this that an outside online conversation can actually help speed things along.  It's like the distraction prevents me from being a perfectionist.  However, in this particular case I think that only works when you have some intellectual to write about.  None of this mind-numbing nonsense.  Sigh.  You know what?  I've written four paragraphs and it's been over a half hour already.  I think I should quit while I'm ahead or haven't really started or whatever.  Good night!

Halfway through February

Tonight I'm super exhausted and regretting that I didn't sit down to write this post before going to work.  Now the task of writing for fifteen minutes seems daunting especially when there's a load of laundry waiting to be folded and blocking my refuge in bed.  I'm super tempted to throw the clothes back in the basket, go to bed, and fold them tomorrow morning.  Maybe I Dave will let me.  Last night, I made an agreement with him that if he washed and dried the laundry I would fold it but I was fast asleep before it finished.  Like writing, I should have done it today before work.  Luckily for me now, Dave can see how sleepy I am and decided to be awesome and fold them while I write this.  He's such a great guy.

Speaking of great guys to be in a relationship with, Happy Valentine's Day everyone!  I hope it was as lovely for all of you as it was for me. Honestly, today turned out to be surprisingly far more pleasant than I expected.  I didn't actually anticipate celebrating Valentine's Day this year as Dave works during the day and I am at work by the time he comes home in the evening.  Normally the only time we get a chance to see each other on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays is after 11:30 at night when I finally get home.

However, my sleepless Saturday turned out to be quite convenient.  Because of my lack of sleep by the time I finished my eight hour shift at work, walked for a mile, wrote my post, and have dinner yesterday I had depleted all my sources of energy.  As a result, I found myself crawling into bed around 6:30 or 7:00 pm and promptly fell asleep.  It was only supposed to be a nap but each time Dave attempted to wake me, I just wouldn't budge.  By nine, I had even managed to convince him to lay next to me and cuddle at which point, he too fell asleep.

At eleven I woke up feeling pretty well rested and I probably could have enjoyed a couple of hours before going back to bed but I decided against it.  Dave was already asleep and I wasn't going to actually do much anyway. Plus, I wanted to wake up at a reasonable hour this morning.  So despite periodically waking up during the night and having some very strange dreams I slept really well.  When I felt Dave get out of bed at five this morning, I also decided that it was time reenter the conscious world.

I must admit, I thoroughly enjoyed my early morning.  Dave and I got to hang out for quite a bit before he had to leave for work and it actually felt just as nice as as the hour or so we normally spend together after I get home for work.  It might have been better because I didn't feel bad for keeping him awake or concerned that I was going to be up so late that I would allow myself to sleep until some afternoon hour.  By six am both he and I were starving and will decided to out to breakfast which was absolutely delicious.  So in the end, we did get a chance to celebrate Valentine's Day; maybe not with a nice dinner but a very lovely early morning breakfast.  Also, I was greet this morning by the fully bloomed tulips he got me this Valentine's Day.  Like I said, isn't he just great?  I'm so lucky to be marrying him in October.

Sadly, he did eventually have to leave to go to work.  However, even this didn't stop me for having a decent day. I had another enlightening therapy session and I walked another mile.  Today's mile even felt good rather than tiring and I was almost tempted to walk more than one but decided against pushing it.  It's really important for me to ease by into an exercise routine so I can hopefully prevent the inevitable burnout that normally happens.  I was also able to have a thoughtful conversation with my mother just before leaving for work which went by at a smooth and reasonable pace (though I did have to drink two diet cokes to help keep me awake).  Overall, it turned into a splendid day and will hopefully be a jumping off point into another positive week.

Finally, we're officially halfway though February and to me that is terrific news.   Only fourteen more days left!

goals, memories, and hopes

I walked a mile today.  It took me exactly 17 minutes to complete it which I'm determined to feel proud of that accomplishment.  The alternative would be zero miles and all day to finish so it's far better than that.  Now, I'm exhausted and hungry.  Although, that probably has more to do with the fact that I didn't sleep well last night and really haven't eaten much all day.  But it's baby steps.  It really is just a matter of making the commitment with yourself.  Walk fifteen minutes and write fifteen minutes.  I also decided that tonight would also be a good night to enact the "no food an hour before bed" policy.  I figure I'll start off with an hour and then increase it to two in two weeks and three in four weeks.  That sentence had a lot of numbers in it.  

Earlier today, I created a mini "to do" list for the wedding where I wrote down the big important things that still need to be completed.  You know, bridesmaid dresses, meeting and securing the officiant, scheduling my hair appointments for the day off, interviewing and deciding on a dj, and losing twenty pounds so I can take in my dress when it arrives.  Of course there's a whole lot more than just those but at the moment but that's my primary focus for now.  Already I'm meeting two of my bridesmaids this week to look at dresses and I'm super excited to hang out with them. 

I don't see either of them nearly enough.  Sometimes it feels strange when you look back and remember living with them and seeing them everyday.  It makes me wish we all still live in the same apartment complex.  How nice it was to just walk down the hall and stop by for a few minutes just to say hi or bemoan whatever is griping you at the time.  Even though, I've been out of the college world for over three years now I still remember those times.  I especially miss our "sweatshop" gatherings where we would meet in the basement of our dorm and sew costumes for shows, renaissance fairs or anime conventions.  When I say sew I mean, I would go down to the basement with them, hang out, and watch them sew but they were always fun. 

My mom just called and it I hate that life is so stressful right now.  It's bad enough that we all feel buried under feet of snow but to then have to deal with a really sick father (my grandfather) it's too much.  My poor sister too is working seventy to eighty hours a week at her job and I know she is having a tough time dealing with the swiftness of my grandfather's sickness.  I'm not sure what it is but I feel like it hasn't hit me yet.  Maybe the concern for my mom and my grandmother are overshadowing anything that I might feel about it. 

I can't imagine what it's like to lose a parent even if he's eighty-six years old.  When my father does pass (hopefully not for long, long time), I know I'm going to be absolutely devastated.  More than my mom though, I'm worried about my grandmother.  They been married for over fifty years.  I can't conceptualize fifty years, nevermind being with the same person for that long.  I think about how devastated I'd be if I lost Dave and we've been together just three years; fifty that's twice my age.  

The one good thing about my mother's family is that they are really close and there's six children.  Hopefully, they will be able to share their grief together along with their many memories.  My grandfather is a truly rare kind of man and even I have some fantastic memories.   Between the six children, their spouses, and many of the older cousins (myself and my sister included) we can hopefully minimize my grandmother's loneliness. If that kind of loneliness can even be lessened.  Sadly, we'll only be able to wait and see.  

Motivation

I almost went to bed with writing tonight.  Luckily before I turned out the light Dave looked at me and said, "hey did you write today."  Suddenly the sluggishness seemed to fade away and I jumped out of bed and sat down at my computer.  This morning started out with such promise sending messages to friends regarding going bridesmaid dress shopping and researching more things wedding.

As the day progress though, I felt myself feeling more and more tired and overwhelmed.  Although, what exactly is overwhelming seems unclear at the moment.  Maybe it's all the clutter of useless junk that is littering my coffee table, desks, and kitchen counters.  Perhaps it's the lingering feeling that now is the good time to get a solid rewards card that will maybe help give me some extra perks after all this spending from the wedding is over but not knowing which one to choose and not wanting to make the wrong choice.  It's that little bit of me that says, "oh gosh, there's so much I want to do but I don't know where to start."

The burst of productivity with the wedding is suddenly inspiring me to begin moving forward on many of those goals that I placed on the back burner.  The tricky questions are, "Where to start? and Where there's the balance?"  I don't want to begin plowing through lists of to dos only to have myself forgo them a couple of weeks later because, well I've already done so much work.  Preferably, I would rather figure out how to make each large task more commonplace.  I hate that I allow my apartment to become this cluttered mess and then one day it's like I snap and I begin cleaning like crazy.  Eight hours later, after every nook and crevice has been dusted and polished, I relax and admire my work.  Then I stop and do nothing until it grows heavier and I have another burst of energy.

How nice would it be to figure out how to maintain tasks in a timely fashion?  If I can't keep my apartment clean or do my laundry at regular intervals, how will I be able to get into a productive enough routine for my more ambitious desires.  Sure, I'll never be Suzy-Homemaker but I would like to keep a clean house so that I'm not embarrassed if someone were to stop by unexpectedly.  I'd like to be able to say, "I have a chicken in the oven and we're having that with some garlic mashed potatoes and veggies" when Dave calls to ask what I want to eat.  Why do I leave that to him?  I want to be able to do those simple, basic tasks and yet I feel so intimidated by them if I think about it for more than 3 minutes.

I'm easily intimidated and then overwhelmed as I begin to go after my goals.  That's part of why I'm so proud of this writing thing.  If I hadn't been so lethargic and feeling so overwhelmed I would've sat down and written something.  I've somehow made this a routine.  All it is fifteen minutes in front of a computer screen so why is fifteen minutes of exercise seem impossible?  It's the same amount of time.  It will be just as rewarding and yet I don't do it.  Why not?  The answering coming to my head is that I simply to hold myself to it.  The answer is really not that difficult so why do I make it so?  Maybe it is just a matter of doing it.

Baby steps.  Tomorrow, I will find fifteen minutes to exercise.  Like I said before, I can do almost anything for fifteen minutes.  So I'm forgetting the whole exercising for a half hour three times a week.  That's not working. I'm going to try, everyday for fifteen minutes just like I did with my writing.  It comes down to me; I need to make that conscious choice.  Also, now that I've place it in a blog I need to do it, right?

Bridesmaid dresses

So since sending out my e-mail regarding the bridesmaid dresses, I've received tremendous support from my bridesmaids.  Though I'm reluctant to jump ahead of myself, I think I've overreacted with anxiety regarding this.  Everyone is so willing to help that it might not be so bad at all.  When I originally sent them the e-mail, I gave them the link to check out these dresses: http://www.ariadress.com/DressThumbnails.htm.   There are so many really pretty dresses here.  I feel like each of them could choose a dress they like and purchase them all in the same color (hibiscus).

I agree with one of my bridesmaids who made the suggested to steer away from the shiny fabrics.  I prefer the not so shiny as well and I think the cotton fabric or non-shiny fabrics will look nicer with the lace in my dress.  Of course, after I sent them that e-mail I remember the dresses from Alfred Angelo that I really like.  Like the aria dresses, their dresses are moderately priced and can be ordered in the same color.  After I finish this post I'm going to send them an e-mail with this link as well: http://www.alfredangelo.com.  I had hoped to post some of my favorites here but they've wisely prevented any kind of copying, pasting, or saving.

Now that I've been bitten by the planning bug, I'm super excited to go shopping.  Because of busy schedules we may not be able to all go at the same time but hopefully we can work something out.  Actually, I'm going to stop this post rather abruptly as it has been at least ten minutes of writing and I want to step away to look up store hours and send them another e-mail.  Sorry for the super short post!

Yesterday and today were big days for me regarding the wedding.  I think we might have found an officiant and he's exactly what I was looking for and kind of looks like Santa Claus.  When I sent him an e-mail he responded saying that he does have the day and time available so I sent him an e-mail back to hoping to schedule a meeting with him.  Hopefully we like him as much in person as we do based on his website.  If it all works out, I'll post more about him and why we chose him.  

I also went to a bridal show last night at an Ethan Allen store in Portsmouth, NH and I got a lot more out of it than I thought I would.  At first the idea of a bridal show in an Ethan Allen store seem a bit odd but it turned out to be a great place to hold it.  Unlike the last bridal show, it wasn't loud and dark making it difficult to speak with the vendors.  As a result I found a couple of vendors who I think I'd really like to work with.  Today, I sent an e-mail to one of the wedding cake vendors to see if we could schedule a tasting.  My mom and I tried samples of their wedding cakes and it was so good.  He already has the date before my wedding booked so I want to book him sooner than later if Dave and I like him, like his cakes, and like his prices.  

There were also a ton of different venues there from Maine and it made me really wish I had gone to one of these before I got engaged.  There were definitely a couple of places that I looked at and thought, "wow I want to get married there."  However, two of my favorite places would also really suit my sister so maybe I'll be able to go to a wedding at one of them as well.  There was one place that looked very similar to mine and I think my sister is going to love it when she sees it.  She loved my venue so maybe that one would work out for her.  I do love my venue as well but I worry about their friendliness.  I've heard great things about the food but I would really like to go for a tasting before choosing my menu selections for our guests but they seem difficult to get in touch.  

More than anything, the show yesterday made me get back on the ball regarding the wedding.  I spoke with a couple of dress places regarding the bridesmaid dresses and they stressed that we need to choose our dresses as soon as possible to make sure they'll come in with plenty of time.  Tonight, I sent an e-mail out to my ladies about going and looking sometime soon.  I'll feel so much better once this aspect is finalized  Everyone always says there's one aspect about each wedding that stresses out the bride and apparently this is mine even though all of my bridesmaids are very supportive.   Hopefully it will go as smoothly as everything else has gone so far. 

Finally, Dave and I have officially decided on a honeymoon location.  After making a very thorough itinerary for driving the coast of California, we realized that it was super busy.  I love to travel but my honeymoon is not one of those trips that I want to feel that "go, go, go" feeling because we have too many things we want to do.  Not to mention that it wasn't saving us that much money.  So after a bit more thought, Dave and I have decide to go to Maui, Hawaii.  Yes it is as expensive as I thought and we might have to contribute a bit more money than we originally allotted but I've found so really great deals on flights and hotels.  It's also seems to be a vacation where there will be a nice balance of relaxation and activity.  It will be fun, playful, romantic, exotic, and relaxing all at the same time.  I'm super excited about it and have now dived into planning this wholeheartedly.  

So overall, a productive couple of days.  There's still a lot to do and I still need to contact my hairdresser about the date.  I'll do that tomorrow. 

It's amazing how long I put of writing the post where I'm supposed to list all the positive things I did this year. Seriously, what's my deal?  I've literally waited until the very end of the night to open up my blog and I've stared at it for almost a half hour now.  I know what I'm suppose to write but I haven't gotten a clue how to write it.  In reality, I've been thinking about it in the back of my mind since my therapist suggested it and I couldn't think of that many things.

However, I did say I would write this post and it's not getting any earlier.  If I wait any longer, I'm going to fall asleep at this computer.  So here's my rule for tonight.  I have no more than twenty four minutes to write at least fifteen things I learned this year.  Learned is a better word as I feel like I would be using a word like "accomplished" extremely loosely.

Things I've learned this year....

1. What it feels like to have a full blown panic attack and techniques on how to use a combination of relaxation techniques and medication to overcome them.
2. Sometimes you just need to sit with all feelings or lack of feelings no matter how uncomfortable it makes you.  
3. All my feelings are okay even bad ones; they are automatic and are sometimes brought about by things I don't realize and therefore I shouldn't be so critical of them.
4. Thought-stopping.  Like feelings, many thoughts are automatic but unlike feelings you can stop them by simply saying "I'm not going to think about that right now."  I channel Scarlett O'Hara during these times and add, "I'll think about that tomorrow."
5. I have some really awesome aunts.  Without them having experienced panic attacks in the past and being willing to discuss them with me, I would never have made it through those first couple of weeks. 
6. Sleep does wonders sometimes but too much sleep will just make me feel even worse and instigate those automatic negative thoughts. 
7. I do have some artistic ability and I really enjoy painting with acrylics.  You don't have to create anything magnificent, it's important to just allow myself to play.  
8. Paris is not nearly as romantic as everyone portrays it to be.  I had the most amazing time there with two of my ladies and it was still perfect.
9. Exercising control over my spending habits is not only good for my wallet, it's almost as much fun saving it as it is spending it. 
10. When I'm feeling really down I should do something completely ridiculously like dance in my kitchen for a minute or two.  It helps, even if it's only a little. 
11. I have great friends who are so understanding despite the fact that I disappeared from all contact for months.  
12. It will pass.  It felt like it would never end and that I would never go back to the way I was before the initial panic attack but I sort of did.  Mostly. 
13. Post Traumatic Stress can happen even ten years after the original incident/s.  Things will come up when you feel safe enough to express it (even if I didn't want it to).  
14. This whole thing has been really good for me in more ways than one.  Therapy is quite therapeutic indeed.
15. My fiance must really, really love me because only just a few months after I went crazy on him, he proposed marriage.  He clearly does want me in his life-- irrationally crazed and everything.  I love him. 

There I did it.  It wasn't too bad.  Now, I'm super exhausted and I'm going to bed.  

Shedding the mental pounds

Today I had a great session with my doctor.  Although my eyes were still burning from recent tears, as I walked out of her office, I felt like a large weight was lifted from my shoulders.  I even noticed a subtle spring in my step.  It's amazing how comforting it is to be told that all my thoughts and concerns are normal and given the appropriate context.  My friends and family are amazing and I know they would allow me to vent my feelings but even I'll admit, my feelings of the past year are quite cumbersome for an untrained person.  Like good friends they listen but they don't normally have any idea of how to respond or ease my anxiety.  Everything is just feels so intense but my doctor specializes in these types of emotions and their triggers.  All of her years of study and experience with many patients prior to me dealing with similar types of issues give her the wisdom to know just what to say at times for everything to make sense again.

A major topic of today's discussion was that despite everything that happened this year, my overwhelming feeling is that I'm back where I started.  Looking at where I was a year ago and where I am now, I feel like very little changed.  I'm not sure where I got the notion that I would be fully recovered in two years but I imagine I read it somewhere and decided to use it as an arbitrary time-frame.  Now that a year has past, I began to feel incredibly frustrated by my lack of progress and overwhelmed by how far I still need to go.  She quickly dispelled these concerns stating that recovery is different for everyone and that many people require one to two years just regain the feeling of safety again.  After we talked, it seems completely naive to think that I'd be all better in two years.  It took a solid three years to build the coping mechanisms needed to get through that relationship and then I spent another six to seven years living within it.  To change almost ten years of thought and behavior patterns along with dealing with all the repressed emotions in just two years is overly aggressive.

It also help that she said that the kind of progress I've made this past year is not one that can be charted and measured.  There's nothing tangible and concrete to hang on to or look back at thinking, "see how far you've come."  As she said, the kind of healing I'm doing is cyclical.  It requires progressive and regression.  Things will need to be revisited time and time again until I have fully come to terms with everything and integrate it within  me.  We also tried a relaxation and focus technique of breathing and I had such a difficult time.  I kept coming out of it because I felt "too vulnerable."  I'm just working on feeling safe within my own skin.  After all, my ex was only part of the problem; as much as he hurt me, I compounded it by continuing to place myself into the repetitive cycle and then berating myself for allowing it to happen at all.  In many ways, I'm as much a victim of myself as I am of him.

I expressed my frustration and fears about still not having a clue about what I want to do for work.  Again, it was a year ago that I decided against becoming a teacher and I'm still not even a step closer to having any understanding of what I might like to try.  She told me that I'm not ready to be making those kinds of moves and decisions right now.  It will be far more difficult to figure out what I want to do if I can't even sit still and clear my mind for more than a couple of minutes due to my vulnerability.  Once I regain my center again, everything else will begin to fall into place.  For homework, she wanted me to write down all the things I did learn or make progress in over the past year.   I was going to write it as tonight's blog entry but it is clearly long enough.  It will have to wait until tomorrow.  Even without it though, I feel so much better about myself and where I'm at in this crazy game and that's what matters most at the moment.

Watching Butterflies

Her red buckle shoes stood out brightly against the dark pavement and sharply contrasted with the dull grayness of the day that surrounded her.  Looking up it was clear that there was a storm coming.  The almost black clouds were moving too quickly toward her across the sky.   However, the little girl with the red shoes was completely oblivious to this and she continued to jump in the small but deep puddles that still remained from the early morning rain.   This was one of her favorite things to do and every time the warm water splashed against her ankles and shins she laughed with delight.

Hopping from one puddle to the next the lacy ruffles in her skirt and socks were slowly turning brown as the dirty water was absorbed into the material.  Although this could not concern her in the least.  She loved being outside and was always finding new ways to get dirty.  Her mother constantly tried to dress her in shorts and t-shirts that were easier to clean but little girl was insistent.  She relished her pretty dresses and would kick, scream, and cry whenever her mother attempted to dress in boy clothes.  To prevent fights, every morning she was given the opportunity to choose from multiple "play" dresses.  The front and back of today's dress was already covered in light green grass stains from days spent rolling down the small hill in her yard so the wet dirt lingering on the bottom of it was only adding to its character.

When she wasn't stomping around in puddling or rolling down hills, her favorite thing to do was chase butterflies. She loved watching them fly from flower to flower; their multi-colored wings flapping quickly to keep themselves in the air.  Sometimes she would try to fly herself by running fast and waves her arms up and down but the only time she found herself in the air was when she jumped.  She would also attempt to catch one but no matter how many times she went to reach for one it would flutter away from her grasp.  There were a few that enjoyed dancing just above her head always just out of reach.

A couple of days ago, she spent watching the butterflies with her father.  They stayed out all morning together and he told her that when butterflies are born they are unable to fly.  In fact, they don't have any pretty colored wings at all.  He then led her to the cool stone stairs that were cover with green leaves and she was shocked when he pointed to the fuzzy caterpillar and told her that it was a young butterfly.  She didn't like the caterpillar as much as they didn't have any pretty colors at all and no wings.  They looked just like all the other bugs outside and they weren't nearly as fun to watch.   For a few long moments, she watched it slowly move across the step when she realized it was about to fall off the end, she head out her hand.  Her dad, noticing this, gently pushed the little caterpillar into her open palm and she discovered that she liked it quite a lot and giggled as it tickled the inside of her hand.

As she watched it crawl over her hands, her father explained that all butterflies start out looking just like this and eat as many leaves as they could.  When they become so full that they cannot eat anything else, they find a comfortable spot and wrap themselves into a tight white cocoon.  For many days they would stay in this cocoon and it was time to leave, they would be changed into a butterfly and fly out of it.  Instead of leaves, butterflies like flowers and that's why she always found them fluttering near the brightest flowers.  When her mom came home, her father took out a large jar and caught a butterfly for her and told her it was time to go back inside.

Holding onto the closed jar containing the small butterfly she ran inside and up to her room where she placed it near the window and watched it as it flapped its wings.  After a while, she took out her crayons and paper and began to draw it.  Unlike her other drawings that she would finish quickly and messily, she took her time with this one.  As she watched her butterfly, she carefully began to draw making sure to capture each of its colors.  She remembered her teacher telling her that every butterfly has its own unique pattern of colors and shapes and that it was the exact same on both wings so even though she couldn't see the other wing as clearly she knew what colors she needed.   So focus and committed she was to this drawing that she couldn't hear her parents arguing in loud voices.

When her father came back upstairs he sounded so sad but she couldn't hear his sadness because she was too excited to show her dad the drawing of her butterfly.  He gave her a big hug and told her it was the most beautiful drawing he had ever seen.  Looking back at the butterfly in the jar, he explained that it was time to let the butterfly free as they need space to fly to keep their wings strong.  It was then that she noticed how sad her father looked and she knew that he didn't want to let it go as much as she didn't.  She knew though, that the butterfly would never be happy in her room away from its family and friends and that they had to let it go.

Drawing in hand she walked back outside with her dad and watched as the butterfly flew out of the jar back to the flowers.  Her father then told her that he would be going away on a trip for a little while but that he would be back soon to see her.  Until then, he needed someone who was going to watch the butterflies for him.  Quickly, she agreed and gave him a big hug.  Again, she saw that he looked sad and she thought that she would be sad too if she wasn't able to watch the butterflies either and decided that her father needed her drawing.  She handed it to him as he got into his car and told him that it would help him remember what the butterfly looked like.

She hadn't seen him since that day and everyday she went outside to watch the butterflies but today there she couldn't find them.  It was just too wet outside.  But as she stomped in a very large puddle, she looked down and saw a small caterpillar.  She bent down and picked it up.  Remembering her father telling her that they needed lots of leaves to help them become a butterfly, she picked up many leaves.  Her mother was calling for her to come back inside and she decided that it wasn't fair that her father couldn't see butterflies.  With the caterpillar in one hand and the leaves in the other, she went back inside and back up to her room.  Placing the caterpillar in a small box with the leaves, she knew that it would make a cocoon and become a butterfly.  Once it did, she would get as many flowers as she could find and give it to her dad when he came back then he would never miss them.

Stuck

I feel compelled to search and discover.  The desire is overwhelming at times and it's been making it difficult to write recently.  Maybe that's part of what is so difficult about February; the longer I sit quietly within the wall containing the artificial heat the stronger the need to expand becomes.   Each day the longing to go somewhere different, to go outside and lay in the soft grass breathing in the warm air, listen to quiet songs while you drive to unknown locations with the windows low, stop to take in an incredibly picturesque scene.  During this time of the year, the urge to act on these desires increase in relation to my inability to do them.  I'm not sure if that sentence made any particular sense whatsoever, but getting my thoughts out feels more complex than normal. 

Maybe that's part of the frustration.  There are all these thoughts and feelings racing through me both positive and negative yet I am completely incapable of expressing any of them.   Like small waves within a bathtub slowly filling with water, unable to drain the excess, and eventually overflowing creating a wet mess all over the floor.  Thus there's the rush to wipe it all up before it leaks through the floor and begins to slowly drop in on your neighbor who finds it more irritating than anything else.  Right now there's this overwhelming need to control the emotions, the thoughts, and keep them at a pleasant equilibrium.  Instead of waves in a tub, I long for them to be like the waves of the ocean: to go in and out with the tide.  Slowly, in time this constant push and pull shapes the land creatively some of the most beautiful landscapes.  

 I just feel restricted.  My writing feels confined and strained.  Everyday, I come and sit at my computer with the deliberate intent to write but as my fingers hit the keys, I find myself reluctant to let go.  My right pinky finger jumps to the backspace bar far more frequently as I write and then rewrite everything.   The words feel hollow, the thoughts superficial, and the analogies cliche.  Attempting to write anything creative feels almost impossible as just trying to get the simple journal structure is an arduous task.  What's crazy about it all is there are many topics that I would like to discuss at length or want to jump into.  I spend my days exploring the new and interesting places within the interwebs getting inspiration, formulating goals and plans, but then am unable or unsuccessful at articulating them.   

There's also this disconnect; I feel more detached from my feelings now than I have in a really long time.  Whenever this feeling or lack of feeling becomes a predominant presence within me, I know that it's only a matter of time for the pendulum to swing in the opposite direction.  Soon, maybe tomorrow, possibly next week, or even two weeks from now the numbness will dissolve and the feelings will emerge stronger, sharper, and it becomes a struggle for me to see anything without being colored by them.   Sometimes they color the natural world with pink and other times they shadow it with gray.   I want the moderation that I thought I was getting better at maintaining.  At the moment, I don't feel out of control.  Hardly actually and that's what's got me mentally anxious (though not physically as feeling anxious isn't happening).  I'm afraid I'm going to allow judgement and criticism to sweep in and taint the thoughts when the feelings are on hiatus.  

Thankfully, I have another person with my mentor and wise woman on Tuesday.  This isn't the first time I've looked to the future thinking of the anticipation that I know I should be feeling.  Yes it does seem as confusing to me as it sounds.  What I need to remember though and keep repeating to myself is that this will pass.  It might swing but the apathy isn't as strong and therefore the feelings shouldn't be when they flood back.  I've got the tools and I'll get a friendly reminder in a couple of days about which ones are best used in these situations. 

A little something

On the bright side I am feeling better than I was yesterday.  On the dimmer side, I got Dave sick and I was up all night last night from the both of us tossing and turning.  As I result of not falling asleep until this morning, I didn't wake up until this afternoon.  I feel badly, it seems that as I began to feel better Dave began to feel increasingly worse. It's like I've sucked all the health out of him and gave him all of my sickness.  I hate seeing him so miserable.

He's got such an incredible attitude though.  One of the myriad of reasons why I love him so much.  As I went in to check on him, I asked him how he was feeling and apologized for getting him sick.  He said that he wasn't sick and when I looked at him questioningly he admitted that he knew he wants.  Then he said that it was silly for him to wallow in it.  If he believes that he is fine and gets his rest anyway, then he may actually get better more quickly.  He is so good about the "having mind of matter" and the "power of positive thinking."  It's part of what is so appealing about him.  Despite it being cheesy, he really does make me want to be a better person and he inspires that change as well. 

Sigh, I can't seem to get any words out tonight.  It literally took me fifteen minutes to just write that.  I suppose this time it's okay to have such a short post.  At least it's something.

Invisible bricks

When I woke up this afternoon from a dead sleep, I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a brick.  Actually it felt more like they hit me over the head with a brick and then decided to tightly tie that brick across my face.  Looking over at the clock, I realized that it was 1pm.  As I didn't have to be at work until 5, I blew my nose a few rights, attempted to give my sinuses a massage to loosen up the pressure, rolled over and went back to sleep.  It was approximately 2:30 when I woke up again, exhausted with my nose dripping like a water faucet, and my throat feeling like a cat decided to use it as a scratching post.   Almost immediately upon stepping out of bed, I felt the congestion in my head shift somewhat and temporarily felt light-headed.  

"I feel like hell.  Would I be a horrible person if I called in sick to work tonight?"  I typed to Dave on my instant messenger.  Even as I sat on the couch, the desire to lie back down and die came over me and I knew before receiving his response that I would have to call in sick.  I couldn't breath and even I could hear how completely stuffy I sounded; I doubt that anyone I spoke to over the phone would have been able to understand me.  He sent a response advising that it might be best to call out if I felt that terrible and I picked up the phone and called work.  I always feel super bad whenever I call in sick; like I'm shying away from my responsibilities.  There's that part of me that thinks, "you know, if you wanted to, you could push through this."  As soon as I think that thought, I immediately feel guilty and was almost tempted to call them back and tell them "actually, nevermind.  I'm fine." 

I wasn't fine, of course.  The pressure of the invisible brick only seemed to increase as I sat up.  Slowly, I dragged myself to the kitchen, took another over the counter decongestant, and proceeded to eat approximately eight clementines in an attempt to boost my vitamin C.  Once I finished off the little oranges I put my head back on a pillow and curled up on my tiny couch.  For a couple of hours I drifted into and out of sleep but when I awoke later, I didn't feel any better.  So, I finally decided that it was time to sit on the bathroom floor and let the steam of the shower loosen whatever mucus that was surround my eyes.  A part of me wanted to take a shower but the idea of standing in a hot shower seemed too much.  

Luckily the steam bath I took seemed to alleviate some of my discomfort and when Dave came home, he gave me some liquid blue medicine and I ate some rice and cherry tomatoes.  He had to work remotely this evening which was actually kind of nice as I wasn't in the mood to do any kind of talking and just wanted my space.  As he did his own thing, I decided to continue to research the potential honeymoon and was actually able to make some more progress so the day didn't feel like a entire waste.  Now, though I should probably go back to bed.  I hate being sick but at least it's February and about as good a time as any to be sick, right?

Full Circle

One year ago today was the beginning of my breakdown.  Though I wouldn't officially completely crumpled to the point that I was desperate for help and begging for a psychologist or anything that would quell my panic attacks for another two weeks, it started that day.  It wasn't until two weeks later that the reality of February 3, 2010 hit and I collapsed into a pile of crazy.  On this day last year I came to the conclusion that I no longer wanted to pursue teaching as a career.

Maybe it was because of what happened back during my initial student teaching.  Maybe if the recession hadn't hit right when I graduated causing more teachers to be laid off than hired leaving the competition in Massachusetts overwhelming, I would've gotten a job and regained more confidence.  Maybe none of that would've matter, maybe I would've found myself in the classroom and determined I hated it.  In either case, it I'd be in the same position: no longer wanting to be a teacher and having absolutely no idea what to do instead.

It was almost ten years ago that I was inspired to be a teacher.  Teaching and coaching students in figure skating was one of the few things that made me feel good about myself throughout high school.  I was good at it; other colleagues, more experienced coaches, would come to me and ask for my help coming up with a different way to teach certain moves.  Of course, I knew that teaching children how to read would be vastly different than showing them how to do an inside 3-turn but I was confident that once I was taught the techniques, I'd be able to that.  Watching the faces on the kids as they mastered a new element was priceless to me and as an avid reader myself, I only imagined being one of the many people who would inspire future readers.

I excelled in all my education classes and my field study classrooms.  Until my first student teaching experience I was excited about the challenge that was waiting for me.  I began my student teaching and I knew something was wrong right from the beginning.  There were too many teachers and my supervising practitioner and the special education teacher were struggling in their first year together.  It was first time either were in that type of setting and they were both used to their own classrooms.  Add myself and a new education graduate and it became the classic "too many cooks in the kitchen."  It was obvious that all four of us were uncomfortable; I should have gone straight away and asked for a different placement.

 Unfortunately, being of the mentality that you never walk from the challenges.  I figured that in the real world I could find myself in a similar situation and I would be expected to work through it.  There would be no college to run crying to because I felt uncomfortable in the real world so I sucked it up and figured I'd make it work.  Little did I know that it was that train of thought that would bury me in the end.  That student teaching and what happened immediately after completely destroyed me.  As irony would have it, the day I called my supervising practitioner to say that would not be returning to her classroom was the very same day I was elected as the Vice President of the Education Honors Society at my college.

Had it not been for my advisor who was on sabbatical while all of this was going on and who came to my aid when she was heard getting back into a different classroom right away.  She told me that I was not the first student that this had happened to despite hearing otherwise from the head of the placement department.  Worried that I would never go back if I waited until the next semester she got me in a classroom with another teacher.  Sadly, by then the damage was done.

 Everyone who heard the details was appalled by the story and my good friend talked to the Dean of Students and stressed that I go to him about it as he wanted to discuss what happened to me as well but I was scared.  The placement coordinator only had a year left before retiring so they weren't going to let him go and if he got in trouble with the Dean about it, he could take it out on me in my next placement.   By the time it was all over, I just wanted to graduate.

My second student teaching experience was much better and my supervising practitioner was amazing.  Although I did enjoy the teaching, looking back I don't know if I ever had time to really evaluate whether or not teaching was the right career for me or if I was just trying to prove it to myself and to everyone else that I could do it.  In the end, I left with a great grade and amazing recommendations from those who worked with me and I felt confident that I could have my own classroom.  Still, I had four classes left to finish, I went to Costa Rica, and finally graduated with my license in December.

By the time April rolled around I lost whatever confidence I gained and began substituting hoping to better my job prospects.  Still certain teaching was the career for I tried half heartedly to search for a permanent position but continued to get into my own way.  Finally February 3, 2010 I picked a fight with my mother about perhaps not wanting to be a teacher anymore.  I caught her at a bad time and some tough words were exchanged.  When I got home from work I was still upset with her and was venting to Dave and picked a fight with him too.  More strong words were exchanged and by the end of it I laid on the couch feeling like a shell of myself.

It had been a really long time since I felt like that like I was just a body but my mind and my emotions had flown somewhere else.  Somewhere safer where I couldn't continue to hurt them anymore with my actions.  The next day I woke up shaken but otherwise okay.  I apologized to both Dave and my mom explaining that it was really hard for me to come to the decision to give up teaching and I didn't know how to convey it to them without fighting.  Then two weeks later, I collapsed.  All those feelings and thoughts that flew from my mind came rushing back and it brought with them the old thoughts and feelings too.  Thoughts and feelings from years ago now compounded my already fragile state.  I had hit rock bottom.

I did a lot this past year to bring myself back to some semblance of sanity but I haven't really gone anywhere. Today, on a whim, I looked for some other jobs that were out there but where do I even look?  What do I want to do?  I still haven't got a clue.  Should I go to school again?  What would I study?  Will there even be any jobs out there when I leave?  I don't know and I'm still just as lost.   Only now I've got a year of therapy behind me so hopefully I can manage my thoughts and feelings a bit better this year.  Still, I can't help but feel that maintaining sanity is really all that much of an accomplish or that I'm moving forward in the world.

Getting away helps plan going away

This post is going to be quick because I'm having such a good time doing absolutely nothing that I don't want to write at all.  Dave and I have spent the whole day doing very little except enjoying our wonderful suite here in Newport.  We woke up to the sun rising over the ocean this morning and it makes me really want to find an apartment that has more windows.   I love our little basement apartment and especially love having my own side entrance but it does lack a certain amount of natural light.  So last night before we went to bed, I opened our curtains to allow as much sunlight to enter the room as possible.

We also kept them open all day today; I wanted to absorb as much sun as possible.  As it was freezing rain outside, Dave and I spent our entire day relaxing on our huge king bed watching our large television.  I also spent almost the whole day on my computer researching our honeymoon.  Something about this getaway finally inspired me to begin researching different hotels and things to do.  I think we have decided on driving the coast of California.  It seems so strange because I always sort of envisioned it to take place somewhere more tropical. There's still a very large part of me that is drawn to the Mayan Riviera.   Who knows, if I continue with this planning kick, I actually might come up with two tentative honeymoon plans and then show it Dave to decide which one we liked better.

I'm all organized about this too even going as far as creating a spreadsheet.   I've got it divided by location, hotels, and activities.  It's crazy, I'm researching it thoroughly comparing the prices and amenities of each hotel and how much each activity may cost.  We're working within a budget and as I quickly found out when I first began investigating our idea, we could literally spend it entirely in just two nights if we aren't too careful.  However, this time around it's been far better and I'm finding some nice places for reasonable rates.  So far, I've tackled exploring the Redwood Forest.  Our wedding is going to have more of a rustic theme (which is apparently quite a trend but that's okay) and driving past the tall redwoods seems fitting.  At first I was thinking about starting in San Diego and driving up but the more I'm thinking on it starting in Northern California might not be a bad idea either.  I'll have to discuss it further with Dave and look at airline rates before making any kind of final decisions.  

Overall it's been an incredibly enjoyable little getaway and not in the least unproductive.   Funny how sometimes to you need to go somewhere else to inspire you to work on the things you've been putting off and thinking you need a vacation from thinking about.  I don't know if that made any sense but I'm distracted and I want to go back to bed and my David.

We made it!

So Dave and I have made it to our beautiful hotel suite in Newport, RI.  I'm so glad that we decided to come tonight rather than battle the next wave of snow tomorrow morning.  The roads were basically empty and clear as we were lucky enough to travel during the lull in between the two storms.  It's amazing just how nice it is to get away even if it's only an hour and a half away from where you live.

I've already taken a very luxurious, relaxing bath in our huge jacuzzi tub.  It's got jets and everything!  While I was soaking in the tub I got to thinking about what life might be like if I was rich enough to travel to a different place every one or two weeks.  I would love to spend two weeks in a location with nothing to do than explore and take in all it's quirks and treasures.  Places like this suite are perfect for out of the suitcase living.   We've got a small kitchen when we can go to the local grocery store and still create "home-cooked" meals along with a washer and dryer to do our laundry.  Really, not much more is needed than a small suitcase; they supply the dishes, pots, pans, laundry detergent, everything.

For a week or two, you live in a home away from home.   I'm not one who requires specific things or decorations.  In fact, my apartment now and my dorm rooms in college all lacked the same thing: decorative personality.   Never one to splash my walls with posters or even paint, I love the clean, neutral tones of a hotel room.   Walking into a hotel room gives me a sense of ease and freedom like I could go anywhere or do anything.  What would it be like to visit twenty-six to fifty-two different places in a year?  What would I discover?  How much beauty and culture could I absorb?  I wish I could find out.

Sadly, I'm not rich and I never will be.  I'm okay with that but I sometime give myself those small occasions where I allow myself to dream as if money were no option.  Travel, exploring the world beyond the small towns of Massachusetts are always the first desire that comes to mind when that the thought of riches comes to mind.  I want to see what else is out there.  What other landscapes, climates, people, culture, ambiance exists?  Some would say I'm lucky because I have had the opportunity to see some places but like a child learning and falling in love with reading, I feel like I can't get enough.  There's always somewhere else, another genre of the world to indulge my wanderlust.

Maybe someday, I find a way to make it work.  I have friends who do it now with very little money.  For now though, I'll relish these small getaways.  Though I don't plan to venture too far out from our cozy suite, I'm excited to experience it fully and deeply.  It's nights like this when life feels perfect.