Mood: annoyed
Didn't everyone's parents tell them this as children. Have people always been as hateful and mean as we are now? And if not, then when did we become such a mean culture? When did we decide that the best way to begin feeling better about ourselves was to tear others down? When did the need to constantly feel superior to the other begin? Why do we continue this even when we know how harmful and hurtful this behavior is?
For the past few days I've been mulling over a few posts I've seen on Facebook or Pinterest recently that bash women who wear makeup when going to the gym. Full disclosure because we're all friends here, I am that woman. I wear mascara to the gym.
I kind of let go of these posts because they really didn't upset me that much but then, I started thinking about Panera jerk from this past fall. For full details on what I'm talking about, read here.
Then today, as I'm browsing a style/beauty book in the Amazon eBook store I read a comment that states "women need to read this book before ever leaving the house in jeans because it would save me from seeing so much public ugliness." Really? REALLY? I'm pretty sure the public ugliness is your comment.
After reading that these feelings of inadequacy turned into an incensed anger. Why is this okay behavior?
Honestly, when did it become acceptable and normal to be so rude to each other?
Maybe I wear makeup to the gym not because I want to look good for anyone there, but because without it I feel too insecure to leave my house some days. Maybe I wear makeup to the gym because it helps me to feel more powerful and increases the amount of work I do there. Maybe the reason I wear makeup to the gym is none of your damn business.
Or maybe, just maybe, if we lived in a less judgmental and hateful world, I wouldn't feel so "ugly in public" and I could cart my yoga pants wearing fat ass to the gym, makeup free, but with a genuine smile on my face.
There is a quote that has made the rounds online by Jennifer Lawrence about how people veil this horrendous behavior by saying "welcome to the real world" and her retort was "that shouldn't be the real world" and I cannot applaud her enough for saying that. It shouldn't be acceptable to bash and hate and bully and belittle and then just tell people to suck it up.
I know that one of my resolutions in this new year is to do more good. To start leaving more encouraging messages randomly on cars or in public restrooms. I started this blog as a way to impact change in my own world and while it has served that purpose, it has strayed as well. I hope, this year, to blog more intentionally about making a positive change in the world. As my favorite artist, Andrew McMahon sings, "this world can be ugly, but isn't it beautiful?"
Yes, Andrew. Yes it is. If there is one thing I learned from cancer it is that the world is full of generosity and beauty and truly amazing people, even when things seem to be at their most hopeless. And I vow to do my part this year to help others see the beauty that I now do each and every day. I hope you'll join me.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
2013/12/06
On Marriage and Depression
Mood: depressed
Jeff and I had our share of hardships during our first year of marriage. We struggled, just like any other couple, to figure out how to make things work. There were nights where we weren't sure it would work. I remember before our wedding, thinking to myself, that I didn't believe anyone when they said a) the first year of marriage is the hardest and b) being married is a completely different ballgame than dating or being engaged.
I cannot put my finger on what makes marriage so different from being engaged, but, trust me if you aren't married, being married is 100% completely and absolutely different than being engaged or dating.
The change sneaks up on you. You don't realize it's coming, you don't even necessarily feel it coming. You go to bed one night and you wake up and BAM! Marriage hits you in the face.
I tried, so hard, to be the wife that I thought Jeff wanted. And the stepmother that Malcolm wanted (or didn't want...but he didn't have a choice). Some days, I still do this. The thing about pretending, or trying to be the perfect wife who works and cooks and does laundry and watches sports (to be fair it's only basketball) and is still up for sex whenever, is that it. is. so. exhausting. Because that is not me. Singularly, all of these things bring me tremendous joy. I love cooking for Jeff and Malcolm, every single night I really do love this. It only ever feels like a chore if I am sick and Jeff is always more than willing to step in. I hate laundry. No, I hate folding laundry. There are more times than I'd care to admit that Jeff ends up folding laundry I have left clean for two days or so. I love watching basketball with Jeff because it is the one sport I understand and actually enjoy following. I love sex (sorry Mom and Dad....), but let's be honest, there are just days where the only thing I want touching me in bed are the blankets and a book.
So, when I found myself exhausted and with no energy left for me, I did not quite know what to do. Because unlike single life, you don't get to just head to your apartment and hop in your pretty pink bed and relax and binge eat pizza while watching "Will and Grace" or "The Golden Girls" to recharge. Or do nothing more than drink a bottle of wine on a Sunday afternoon to old Disney movies with a ton of beauty magazines splayed on the bed around you. I became upset that not only was I not the perfect wife, I was not even close and I knew that in neglecting myself I was actually becoming quite depressed, more so than I had been in many years.
I was first diagnosed with depression at age 10. I took my first dose of Prozac at age 10. And it is something that to this day, to this second, I struggle with. If you have never been depressed or experienced it, I truly don't know how to help you understand. Depression, like marriage, kind of just hits you over the head one morning and all of a sudden every single thing that you thought you knew, well, it's wrong. And nothing seems to mean the same thing that it used to. For me, depression is coupled with anxiety, which means that not only do I not experience happiness, but I then freak out about why I can't just be happy. And leaving the house, which is hard enough to do when you feel that every single thing is without purpose so why get groceries, becomes even harder when you are convinced that something horrific is about to happen.
Today, as I showered, I realized that the depression that started during our first year of marriage has not yet lifted. There are moments of extreme joy and months where I can leave the house just fine, but there are also dark and endless days where it physically pains me to shower and start the car to take Malcolm to school. The thing that hit me most this morning as I lathered up my body wash was that, in trying so hard to be the wife that I thought Jeff wanted, I lost everything about the woman he fell in love with. The confident (most of the time), career loving woman who laughed at everything has morphed into some sad, fat woman.
Admittedly, I do not know how to get this woman back. But I'm at least aware that I want to. And that is progress for me. I'm thankful for a husband who has been patient and tried to learn how to handle someone with chronic, severe depression. And today, I want not to be the wife I THINK he wants, but the woman that I know he loved.
Jeff and I had our share of hardships during our first year of marriage. We struggled, just like any other couple, to figure out how to make things work. There were nights where we weren't sure it would work. I remember before our wedding, thinking to myself, that I didn't believe anyone when they said a) the first year of marriage is the hardest and b) being married is a completely different ballgame than dating or being engaged.
I cannot put my finger on what makes marriage so different from being engaged, but, trust me if you aren't married, being married is 100% completely and absolutely different than being engaged or dating.
The change sneaks up on you. You don't realize it's coming, you don't even necessarily feel it coming. You go to bed one night and you wake up and BAM! Marriage hits you in the face.
I tried, so hard, to be the wife that I thought Jeff wanted. And the stepmother that Malcolm wanted (or didn't want...but he didn't have a choice). Some days, I still do this. The thing about pretending, or trying to be the perfect wife who works and cooks and does laundry and watches sports (to be fair it's only basketball) and is still up for sex whenever, is that it. is. so. exhausting. Because that is not me. Singularly, all of these things bring me tremendous joy. I love cooking for Jeff and Malcolm, every single night I really do love this. It only ever feels like a chore if I am sick and Jeff is always more than willing to step in. I hate laundry. No, I hate folding laundry. There are more times than I'd care to admit that Jeff ends up folding laundry I have left clean for two days or so. I love watching basketball with Jeff because it is the one sport I understand and actually enjoy following. I love sex (sorry Mom and Dad....), but let's be honest, there are just days where the only thing I want touching me in bed are the blankets and a book.
So, when I found myself exhausted and with no energy left for me, I did not quite know what to do. Because unlike single life, you don't get to just head to your apartment and hop in your pretty pink bed and relax and binge eat pizza while watching "Will and Grace" or "The Golden Girls" to recharge. Or do nothing more than drink a bottle of wine on a Sunday afternoon to old Disney movies with a ton of beauty magazines splayed on the bed around you. I became upset that not only was I not the perfect wife, I was not even close and I knew that in neglecting myself I was actually becoming quite depressed, more so than I had been in many years.
I was first diagnosed with depression at age 10. I took my first dose of Prozac at age 10. And it is something that to this day, to this second, I struggle with. If you have never been depressed or experienced it, I truly don't know how to help you understand. Depression, like marriage, kind of just hits you over the head one morning and all of a sudden every single thing that you thought you knew, well, it's wrong. And nothing seems to mean the same thing that it used to. For me, depression is coupled with anxiety, which means that not only do I not experience happiness, but I then freak out about why I can't just be happy. And leaving the house, which is hard enough to do when you feel that every single thing is without purpose so why get groceries, becomes even harder when you are convinced that something horrific is about to happen.
Today, as I showered, I realized that the depression that started during our first year of marriage has not yet lifted. There are moments of extreme joy and months where I can leave the house just fine, but there are also dark and endless days where it physically pains me to shower and start the car to take Malcolm to school. The thing that hit me most this morning as I lathered up my body wash was that, in trying so hard to be the wife that I thought Jeff wanted, I lost everything about the woman he fell in love with. The confident (most of the time), career loving woman who laughed at everything has morphed into some sad, fat woman.
Admittedly, I do not know how to get this woman back. But I'm at least aware that I want to. And that is progress for me. I'm thankful for a husband who has been patient and tried to learn how to handle someone with chronic, severe depression. And today, I want not to be the wife I THINK he wants, but the woman that I know he loved.
2013/11/07
The Sun Will Forever Keep Rising
Mood: keep rising
A few weeks ago as Jeff and I drove the hour to pick up Malcolm I was singing along in the car to Andrew McMahon and his Jack's Mannequin music. If you know me personally, you will have heard me fangirl about Andrew previously, either I forced you to listen to him, became incredulous that you didn't know who he was or spouted a million reasons why your life would be a million times better with Andrew in it.
Well, not much has changed for me since I was 18 where Andrew is concerned. I still fangirl when I go to his shows (Jeff was greatly amused this summer when we saw him) and his music is still what I listen to when I need to sort out the really big things in my life.
Something Corporate got me through college and the portions of graduate school that I made it through. And his lyrics were there when the program proved just too much for me. My faith shaken, Andrew reminded me that my life had a purpose, and it was okay to spend some time figuring it out. (By the way, I'm STILL working on that).
Something Corporate was the soundtrack to my life the summer I finally left a mentally and physically abusive relationship. Andrew's voice and melodies and words soothed the wounds that were, and some days still are, raw and hurting.
Jack's Mannequin has seen me through several horrendous bouts of depression, some of which I truly did not want to come out of on the other side. Andrew has said that it's always really heavy for him when people tell him that he saved their lives, and I can only imagine what hearing that must be like. He's said that it's those people that saved themselves and he's glad to have been there, but truly I am not positive I'd be typing this today if it were not for some of his lyrics.
Anyway, as we were driving Jeff joked that I loved Andrew McMahon more than him. Without pausing I said, "No, it's just that he's been in my life for a lot longer than you have."
And that is true. 11 years of music and inspiration later I still feel like I just discovered this man.
Tonight, I'm writing from a lonely place.
Jeff got news that he needs a fourth round of chemotherapy. While we are grateful that he'll celebrate Christmas cancer free, it's a scary time for us. His job put him (without allowing him a choice) on unpaid leave and my freelance writing doesn't exactly bring in the big bucks. Medical bills pile up, regular bills pile up...life does not stop because you get cancer. A cancer expert my dad looked up has been in touch with Jeff to say that the fourth round is unnecessary, so we face a difficult decision. Well, Jeff does at least. I'm here to support him regardless of the decision.
I've been filling my days with taking care of Jeff, Malcolm, the dogs and the day to day things that need to get done. I stay plenty busy. And I'm happy to report that I actually have been making a concerted effort in the weight loss front. It's my nights that are impossible. Jeff is asleep, too tired to sit up for a minute so that he can take his medications. Malcolm is asleep. The dogs are asleep. And I am alone with my thoughts and my fears and my insecurities. And the scariest thing of all: the fear of death. Of Jeff's. Of my husband's. Mourning my grandfather's passing. My professor's life being cut short by his battle with cancer.
I sit alone, night after night in a house filled with noise as I try to cancel out these feelings. These thoughts. The loss and sadness weighs so heavily some nights that I cannot breath without pain in my chest. I know, and 100%, that Jeff will make a full recovery and we will live long and healthy lives.
But at night, when I'm all alone, when the noise can't distract me, I wonder...what it...what if the happy ending looks completely different for Jeff and I? What if my husband dies? Cancer is a really hard thing for people close to you to handle. I am reminded of my infertility struggles. Often, when people don't know what to say, they simply say nothing. And that hurts worse than anything. When you desperately want to know you are not alone, but are far too exhausted and drained to reach out, and all you hear is radio silence. That is the worst.
These nights are lonely. And endless.
But I have Andrew. And the sun will rise and push the loneliness and fear away.
I have written this post several times. And I always end up deleting it for fear of coming across too depressed or too negative. And that is truly not my disposition. Tonight I am feeling scared, but also a little brave. I promised to blog my experience with cancer and I would be remiss if I did not admit that there are moments of the utmost weakness and terror. There are moments where I can simply not hold the tears any longer and I fall to my knees weeping. And there are moments of laughter and happiness and joy.
If you want a small taste of the range of emotions, beautifully composed, listen to "Keep Rising" by Jack's Mannequin. The lyrics follow.
*Lyrics from www.azlyrics.com
Jeff's Fundraising Page at Give Forward:
http://gfwd.at/19AoOzG
A few weeks ago as Jeff and I drove the hour to pick up Malcolm I was singing along in the car to Andrew McMahon and his Jack's Mannequin music. If you know me personally, you will have heard me fangirl about Andrew previously, either I forced you to listen to him, became incredulous that you didn't know who he was or spouted a million reasons why your life would be a million times better with Andrew in it.
Well, not much has changed for me since I was 18 where Andrew is concerned. I still fangirl when I go to his shows (Jeff was greatly amused this summer when we saw him) and his music is still what I listen to when I need to sort out the really big things in my life.
Something Corporate got me through college and the portions of graduate school that I made it through. And his lyrics were there when the program proved just too much for me. My faith shaken, Andrew reminded me that my life had a purpose, and it was okay to spend some time figuring it out. (By the way, I'm STILL working on that).
Something Corporate was the soundtrack to my life the summer I finally left a mentally and physically abusive relationship. Andrew's voice and melodies and words soothed the wounds that were, and some days still are, raw and hurting.
Jack's Mannequin has seen me through several horrendous bouts of depression, some of which I truly did not want to come out of on the other side. Andrew has said that it's always really heavy for him when people tell him that he saved their lives, and I can only imagine what hearing that must be like. He's said that it's those people that saved themselves and he's glad to have been there, but truly I am not positive I'd be typing this today if it were not for some of his lyrics.
Anyway, as we were driving Jeff joked that I loved Andrew McMahon more than him. Without pausing I said, "No, it's just that he's been in my life for a lot longer than you have."
And that is true. 11 years of music and inspiration later I still feel like I just discovered this man.
Tonight, I'm writing from a lonely place.
Jeff got news that he needs a fourth round of chemotherapy. While we are grateful that he'll celebrate Christmas cancer free, it's a scary time for us. His job put him (without allowing him a choice) on unpaid leave and my freelance writing doesn't exactly bring in the big bucks. Medical bills pile up, regular bills pile up...life does not stop because you get cancer. A cancer expert my dad looked up has been in touch with Jeff to say that the fourth round is unnecessary, so we face a difficult decision. Well, Jeff does at least. I'm here to support him regardless of the decision.
I've been filling my days with taking care of Jeff, Malcolm, the dogs and the day to day things that need to get done. I stay plenty busy. And I'm happy to report that I actually have been making a concerted effort in the weight loss front. It's my nights that are impossible. Jeff is asleep, too tired to sit up for a minute so that he can take his medications. Malcolm is asleep. The dogs are asleep. And I am alone with my thoughts and my fears and my insecurities. And the scariest thing of all: the fear of death. Of Jeff's. Of my husband's. Mourning my grandfather's passing. My professor's life being cut short by his battle with cancer.
I sit alone, night after night in a house filled with noise as I try to cancel out these feelings. These thoughts. The loss and sadness weighs so heavily some nights that I cannot breath without pain in my chest. I know, and 100%, that Jeff will make a full recovery and we will live long and healthy lives.
But at night, when I'm all alone, when the noise can't distract me, I wonder...what it...what if the happy ending looks completely different for Jeff and I? What if my husband dies? Cancer is a really hard thing for people close to you to handle. I am reminded of my infertility struggles. Often, when people don't know what to say, they simply say nothing. And that hurts worse than anything. When you desperately want to know you are not alone, but are far too exhausted and drained to reach out, and all you hear is radio silence. That is the worst.
These nights are lonely. And endless.
But I have Andrew. And the sun will rise and push the loneliness and fear away.
I have written this post several times. And I always end up deleting it for fear of coming across too depressed or too negative. And that is truly not my disposition. Tonight I am feeling scared, but also a little brave. I promised to blog my experience with cancer and I would be remiss if I did not admit that there are moments of the utmost weakness and terror. There are moments where I can simply not hold the tears any longer and I fall to my knees weeping. And there are moments of laughter and happiness and joy.
If you want a small taste of the range of emotions, beautifully composed, listen to "Keep Rising" by Jack's Mannequin. The lyrics follow.
"Keep Rising (Passenger Demo)"
I could feel the pressure drop
And hope was just a broken bridge
And when the clouds refused to stop
They said you'd find the plan for this
And there was no place I could run
Just days without the sun
I was a ghost in waiting
Sleep to dream and hear you saying
Don't be afraid
The rain will make us what we are
And I will keep you sane
Just waiting with me in the dark
Cause this feels a whole lot like living dead
If it's just this song
To keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing
With the night so long
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
So they plugged my wires in
And told me I was born to fight
(Maybe you were born to, maybe you were born to die)
Sometimes the best machines don't win
Could you stay and get me through the night
Cause I'm so afraid.
The rain will make us what we are
Don't let me fade just waited with me in the dark
Cause this feels a whole lot like living dead
It's just this song to keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing?
With the night so long?
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
And we sing
Till we watch the streetlights all fall fast asleep
Yeah we sing till the sun rains down on everything
It's just this song to keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing
With a night so long
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
Keep rising
Keep rising, yeah
The sun will forever keep rising
Keep rising
Keep rising, yeah
The sun will forever keep rising
And hope was just a broken bridge
And when the clouds refused to stop
They said you'd find the plan for this
And there was no place I could run
Just days without the sun
I was a ghost in waiting
Sleep to dream and hear you saying
Don't be afraid
The rain will make us what we are
And I will keep you sane
Just waiting with me in the dark
Cause this feels a whole lot like living dead
If it's just this song
To keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing
With the night so long
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
So they plugged my wires in
And told me I was born to fight
(Maybe you were born to, maybe you were born to die)
Sometimes the best machines don't win
Could you stay and get me through the night
Cause I'm so afraid.
The rain will make us what we are
Don't let me fade just waited with me in the dark
Cause this feels a whole lot like living dead
It's just this song to keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing?
With the night so long?
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
And we sing
Till we watch the streetlights all fall fast asleep
Yeah we sing till the sun rains down on everything
It's just this song to keep us in the universe
While the wars are waging
I will be strong
There's no chance we could lose this fight
With the love that I'm facing
With a night so long
When the morning comes we'll know the truth
The sun will forever keep rising
Keep rising
Keep rising, yeah
The sun will forever keep rising
Keep rising
Keep rising, yeah
The sun will forever keep rising
Jeff's Fundraising Page at Give Forward:
http://gfwd.at/19AoOzG
2013/09/20
Storms
Mood: numb
It's been dark on and off all day and I have been patiently waiting for a thunderstorm.
The timing of the ominous thunder and lighting and dark sky is truly impressive. Really, very poetic. Sixteen minutes ago my husband called me from work. He never calls, we just text all day.
His cancer is back. The mass in his lung is cancerous.
And the heavens have opened up in response.
As I watch the trees whip back and forth and the rain pound the street outside, all I can think is that the current climate inside is what I should feel like on the inside.
But I don't. Where there should be tears, my face is dry. The sobs are not coming, but instead are stuck in my throat. I feel nothing. I want to feel pain or anger or hope, anything. But all I can manage is staring out the window in complete and utter shock. I am sure the tears will come, just as the rain is now. I know I will be angry as I watch my husband fight for his life. But right now, I feel nothing. My hands shake and my heart feels as heavy as the tree braving the storm outside, but I am numb. I am without words. I am without feeling.
I am not, however, without love. I am not without hope.
As Malcolm bounces on the couch next to me the knowledge that we must tell him how sick Daddy is soon weighs heavily upon me. But no, I am not without hope. He will have to watch as his Daddy fights and is sick and ceases to be the Daddy he is used to. But Jeff will recover. And Malcolm will bounce back. They're both resilient.
And I? I will stand with them. I will hold Jeff's hand and stroke his head and drive him to and from the hospital. I will play with Malcolm and get him to and from school and make cupcakes for Jeff's birthday on Saturday.
I will hope. And I will love. And I know that we will all be alright. The storm will pass, just as the one outside will as well. And when it has passed, there will be a rainbow and sunshine and a brighter tomorrow.
(I wrote this last night....update.....today we will go to the oncologist and discuss his treatment. We are all as okay as possible, and Malcolm is still blissfully unaware that there is anything wrong with his Daddy. The storm last night ended up being a small tornado in Ankeny....there are trees uprooted and split directly in two. The cupcakes I made are bright and colorful and cheerful and today we will all enjoy one together and celebrate Jeff's birthday. And next year, when I make Jeff birthday cupcakes again, we will celebrate the bravery, strength and courgae of Jeff and this small family in the face of cancer.)
It's been dark on and off all day and I have been patiently waiting for a thunderstorm.
The timing of the ominous thunder and lighting and dark sky is truly impressive. Really, very poetic. Sixteen minutes ago my husband called me from work. He never calls, we just text all day.
His cancer is back. The mass in his lung is cancerous.
And the heavens have opened up in response.
As I watch the trees whip back and forth and the rain pound the street outside, all I can think is that the current climate inside is what I should feel like on the inside.
But I don't. Where there should be tears, my face is dry. The sobs are not coming, but instead are stuck in my throat. I feel nothing. I want to feel pain or anger or hope, anything. But all I can manage is staring out the window in complete and utter shock. I am sure the tears will come, just as the rain is now. I know I will be angry as I watch my husband fight for his life. But right now, I feel nothing. My hands shake and my heart feels as heavy as the tree braving the storm outside, but I am numb. I am without words. I am without feeling.
I am not, however, without love. I am not without hope.
As Malcolm bounces on the couch next to me the knowledge that we must tell him how sick Daddy is soon weighs heavily upon me. But no, I am not without hope. He will have to watch as his Daddy fights and is sick and ceases to be the Daddy he is used to. But Jeff will recover. And Malcolm will bounce back. They're both resilient.
And I? I will stand with them. I will hold Jeff's hand and stroke his head and drive him to and from the hospital. I will play with Malcolm and get him to and from school and make cupcakes for Jeff's birthday on Saturday.
I will hope. And I will love. And I know that we will all be alright. The storm will pass, just as the one outside will as well. And when it has passed, there will be a rainbow and sunshine and a brighter tomorrow.
(I wrote this last night....update.....today we will go to the oncologist and discuss his treatment. We are all as okay as possible, and Malcolm is still blissfully unaware that there is anything wrong with his Daddy. The storm last night ended up being a small tornado in Ankeny....there are trees uprooted and split directly in two. The cupcakes I made are bright and colorful and cheerful and today we will all enjoy one together and celebrate Jeff's birthday. And next year, when I make Jeff birthday cupcakes again, we will celebrate the bravery, strength and courgae of Jeff and this small family in the face of cancer.)
2013/09/16
To My Husband, on the Eve of our Anniversary
Mood: thankful, in love
Dear Jeff -
Tonight, we sit in anticipation of the anniversary of our wedding day. Two years ago, we stood for a chilly run-through of our wedding. As my dad and I made our way to the spot where we were to say "I do," I remember him making me laugh because I was so afraid I would cry. While I was a girl that planned a million weddings, I'm not sure I ever truly saw myself as a bride. And in that moment, in my sweater and Uggs as we practiced the walk that would make me your wife, I felt happier and more beautiful than I can remember. Surrounded by family and friends, Malcolm running all over the place and screaming happily into the microphone, that night in totality was one of the best nights of my entire life.
As we laid in bed, too excited to sleep, I remember wishing that this feeling would never end. The excitment, the happy anxiety.
And today, the night before the 2nd anniversary of our wedding, it has faded. All things do. And it is currently replaced with a terrifying anxiety. Tomorrow we will go to a procedure that will give us answers as to the status of your health. I cannot hold your hand through it, but know I will be with you throughout. Tonight, I want you to know that I never imagined marriage would be like this. I knew it would be work and I knew not everything can be happy and sunshine.
We've had our share of horrendous fights and moments that made me fear for our future. And we've fought a battle for your health together. I never in a million years would have guessed that before we made it to our two year anniversary, we would be facing a cancer battle.
But we did. And if cancer is what we're looking at once more, we'll fight it together. I do not have any magic words that will make you less anxious or that make tongight less scary or painful. But I do have a hand for you to hold and a shoulder for you to cry on and a lap where you can rest your head when you are tired. Know that I love you, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
ySo, Yes, the magic of our wedding has faded. The flowers are long dead, the candles melted to nothingness and the dress hanging usless in a closet. And while we don't get to drink from our beautiful, Swaroski crystal flutes on our second anniversary since you will barely be in any shape to move, there is no place I would rather be than supporting you through this.
I love you. You have been a constant source of support and I hope that you think the same of me. I know our marriage isn't what either of us expected, maybe not even what we wanted. But it's what we have and we work together each day to make it better. We grow stronger and I love you more each day.
So tonight, as we wait with anxiety high and Malcolm plays, know I am thinking of all that has lead up to this moment. And that even during our darkest days, there is no one else I would rather wake up with tomorrow. Even when tomorrow means treaking to the hospital for a 5 hour wait as you undergo a procedure that determines your fate. I love you.
Your wife,
Ashley
Tonight, we sit in anticipation of the anniversary of our wedding day. Two years ago, we stood for a chilly run-through of our wedding. As my dad and I made our way to the spot where we were to say "I do," I remember him making me laugh because I was so afraid I would cry. While I was a girl that planned a million weddings, I'm not sure I ever truly saw myself as a bride. And in that moment, in my sweater and Uggs as we practiced the walk that would make me your wife, I felt happier and more beautiful than I can remember. Surrounded by family and friends, Malcolm running all over the place and screaming happily into the microphone, that night in totality was one of the best nights of my entire life.
As we laid in bed, too excited to sleep, I remember wishing that this feeling would never end. The excitment, the happy anxiety.
And today, the night before the 2nd anniversary of our wedding, it has faded. All things do. And it is currently replaced with a terrifying anxiety. Tomorrow we will go to a procedure that will give us answers as to the status of your health. I cannot hold your hand through it, but know I will be with you throughout. Tonight, I want you to know that I never imagined marriage would be like this. I knew it would be work and I knew not everything can be happy and sunshine.
We've had our share of horrendous fights and moments that made me fear for our future. And we've fought a battle for your health together. I never in a million years would have guessed that before we made it to our two year anniversary, we would be facing a cancer battle.
But we did. And if cancer is what we're looking at once more, we'll fight it together. I do not have any magic words that will make you less anxious or that make tongight less scary or painful. But I do have a hand for you to hold and a shoulder for you to cry on and a lap where you can rest your head when you are tired. Know that I love you, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
ySo, Yes, the magic of our wedding has faded. The flowers are long dead, the candles melted to nothingness and the dress hanging usless in a closet. And while we don't get to drink from our beautiful, Swaroski crystal flutes on our second anniversary since you will barely be in any shape to move, there is no place I would rather be than supporting you through this.
I love you. You have been a constant source of support and I hope that you think the same of me. I know our marriage isn't what either of us expected, maybe not even what we wanted. But it's what we have and we work together each day to make it better. We grow stronger and I love you more each day.
So tonight, as we wait with anxiety high and Malcolm plays, know I am thinking of all that has lead up to this moment. And that even during our darkest days, there is no one else I would rather wake up with tomorrow. Even when tomorrow means treaking to the hospital for a 5 hour wait as you undergo a procedure that determines your fate. I love you.
Your wife,
Ashley
2011/08/23
Where's the Glass?
Mood: meh.
Facebook tells me that one year ago today I updated my status with the following quote:
I find it slightly disheartening that exactly a year later...I understand that statement again. I could definitely go into the millions of ways my life has changed (25 days until the wedding!!!) but I don't need to. And sometimes changes, even those for the better, will have negative consequences.
So today I find myself exactly where I was a year ago...facing the transition out of one job...only this time around I don't have one to move in to. Scary. And I'm once again getting ready for a move. Overwhelming.
And while these good things have indeed brought an immeasurable amount of happiness and love into my life...like I said...there's always another side to the story. "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." God, I love science.
What I find myself struggling with today is how, exactly, to go about righting the wrongs...when I can't do it on my own. I believe we exist in relation to other things, other people, other ideas....we are and we interact with the constant idea of "other." And I love that. It keeps life interesting. Complex. Rich. Entertaining. But it can also create a myriad of problems. What do you do when the "other" doesn't want to exist in relation to you anymore? I pose the question because I have no way of answering it...and am beyond stressed and anxious and miserable looking for an acceptable answer.
I suppose it's times like this when we sit. And we wait. And in the midst of all the crappy feelings...we look for that damn glass so we can fill it...or empty it...but at least have a sense of who and where we are. Sometimes...patience is the greatest and nicest thing we can hope to practice.
Facebook tells me that one year ago today I updated my status with the following quote:
My mom tells me I see the glass as half empty. Personally, one day, I just hope to see the glass.
I find it slightly disheartening that exactly a year later...I understand that statement again. I could definitely go into the millions of ways my life has changed (25 days until the wedding!!!) but I don't need to. And sometimes changes, even those for the better, will have negative consequences.
So today I find myself exactly where I was a year ago...facing the transition out of one job...only this time around I don't have one to move in to. Scary. And I'm once again getting ready for a move. Overwhelming.
And while these good things have indeed brought an immeasurable amount of happiness and love into my life...like I said...there's always another side to the story. "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." God, I love science.
What I find myself struggling with today is how, exactly, to go about righting the wrongs...when I can't do it on my own. I believe we exist in relation to other things, other people, other ideas....we are and we interact with the constant idea of "other." And I love that. It keeps life interesting. Complex. Rich. Entertaining. But it can also create a myriad of problems. What do you do when the "other" doesn't want to exist in relation to you anymore? I pose the question because I have no way of answering it...and am beyond stressed and anxious and miserable looking for an acceptable answer.
I suppose it's times like this when we sit. And we wait. And in the midst of all the crappy feelings...we look for that damn glass so we can fill it...or empty it...but at least have a sense of who and where we are. Sometimes...patience is the greatest and nicest thing we can hope to practice.
2011/05/17
You Gotta Swim...
Mood: ....swim when it hurts....
So as an avid (and slightly obsessive) watcher of ANY show that involves the word "wedding," I understand the process of planning one is stressful. And that attempting to plan one in 5 months....YIPES. But at least Jeff and I have the support of our friends and family, and I have an awesome network of friends who work in the business (okay so like...2 people really) that have been beyond helpful in making some pretty amazing stuff happen in under one month of the official engagement.
Venue for ceremony/reception? Check. Photographer? Check. Colors? Check. Dress? Check. So we're missing some super important stuff like...food and beverages and a dj and cake and flowers...but we'll totally get there. It's just...
Weddings are emotional. It's inherent. I think it's one of the reasons I would totally love to work in event (particularly wedding) planning. There is so much creativity, thought, love, and individualization that goes into every wedding that it's a truly amazing thing to see. Even when they're the ugly redneck weddings that make me want to bash my head in....I mean...they're nothing if not original.
The thing about emotion is...well...there's good and bad. And wedding planning brings out the extremes of both. When you're working, planning from a distance via e-mail and Skype, and living 2.5 hours away from your future husband...things are bound to get stressful. It's just...the stress from the middle of last week to today....ASTRONOMICAL. I can't even describe it. I've felt stress...and I've had my fair share of anxiety battles and bouts of depression...but....this is a totally new kinda feeling. Because I don't want to allow myself to be stressed about it. I want it just to be this magical and happy time. Nothing sad or hard to deal with...
And as I was sitting here feeling kinda sorry for myself (not JUST about wedding stress) I realized that there are people going through things a million times harder. And I'm not even talking famine, war, persecution, enslavement. I'm talking people that I talk to on a daily basis. It's hard for some of us to just wake up in the morning and get out of the damn bed.
Last week when I was super stressed I did what I always do. I pouted. Cried. Called Mommy, Caitlyn, and the womans (Christie...she does have a name). Then I listened to music. And it's almost always Something Corporate or Jack's Mannequin that I go to first. There's something so soothing about having all your emotions described in a song. And their songs aren't particularly happy. But they are hopeful. Last week the song that was in my head was Swim by Jack's Mannequin. So I listened. And cried. And listened again. Then I did my other go to move when I'm stressed and sad and don't know what else to do. I colored.
You've gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
And swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers and friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw
The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim for brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
Well I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim
So as an avid (and slightly obsessive) watcher of ANY show that involves the word "wedding," I understand the process of planning one is stressful. And that attempting to plan one in 5 months....YIPES. But at least Jeff and I have the support of our friends and family, and I have an awesome network of friends who work in the business (okay so like...2 people really) that have been beyond helpful in making some pretty amazing stuff happen in under one month of the official engagement.
Venue for ceremony/reception? Check. Photographer? Check. Colors? Check. Dress? Check. So we're missing some super important stuff like...food and beverages and a dj and cake and flowers...but we'll totally get there. It's just...
Weddings are emotional. It's inherent. I think it's one of the reasons I would totally love to work in event (particularly wedding) planning. There is so much creativity, thought, love, and individualization that goes into every wedding that it's a truly amazing thing to see. Even when they're the ugly redneck weddings that make me want to bash my head in....I mean...they're nothing if not original.
The thing about emotion is...well...there's good and bad. And wedding planning brings out the extremes of both. When you're working, planning from a distance via e-mail and Skype, and living 2.5 hours away from your future husband...things are bound to get stressful. It's just...the stress from the middle of last week to today....ASTRONOMICAL. I can't even describe it. I've felt stress...and I've had my fair share of anxiety battles and bouts of depression...but....this is a totally new kinda feeling. Because I don't want to allow myself to be stressed about it. I want it just to be this magical and happy time. Nothing sad or hard to deal with...
And as I was sitting here feeling kinda sorry for myself (not JUST about wedding stress) I realized that there are people going through things a million times harder. And I'm not even talking famine, war, persecution, enslavement. I'm talking people that I talk to on a daily basis. It's hard for some of us to just wake up in the morning and get out of the damn bed.
Last week when I was super stressed I did what I always do. I pouted. Cried. Called Mommy, Caitlyn, and the womans (Christie...she does have a name). Then I listened to music. And it's almost always Something Corporate or Jack's Mannequin that I go to first. There's something so soothing about having all your emotions described in a song. And their songs aren't particularly happy. But they are hopeful. Last week the song that was in my head was Swim by Jack's Mannequin. So I listened. And cried. And listened again. Then I did my other go to move when I'm stressed and sad and don't know what else to do. I colored.
The song is about...well...swimming. But it's really about just managing to keep living. And to not give up. The lead singer was diagnosed with cancer at 23...super serious leukemia type cancer (and that's the technical term!)....and this song came out of that. There's always some beauty in suffering. And our trials make us who we are and who we will become.
So allow your heart to get broken. Breakdown when you need to. Move across the country. Make mistakes...and make tons of them. But NEVER give up. It always gets better. ALWAYS. If you can just find the strength to keep moving...or swimming...it GETS BETTER. As I write this I think of last year around summertime when I blogged about just keeping on and having hope that everything would get better. I wrote right after I realized that ending my life would NOT be the solution to whatever crappy shit was plaguing me at that time. So I did the only thing I could do...I kept going...and it hurt. And I hurt for a long time, a lot. And I still do some days....but today I'm writing stressed but happy and...engaged. Healthy...and above all else...alive.
My nice thing in this blog? Being brutally honest. It's something I'm learning as an engaged woman. Apparently it's important to the whole communication thing. Here are the lyrics to the song. I'm posting the video too...but if you don't dig Jack's then just read the lyrics. They're beautiful, inspiring, and they're honest.
Back to wedding planning via e-mail and text...but I've got my Jack's playing in the background and my picture in front of me. A support system in place, and a smile on my face...
You've gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
And swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers and friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw
The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim for brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
Well I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim
2011/02/28
I'm Extra Ordinary.....
Mood: I've got a little bit of hope...like a soap on a rope....
I love Better Than Ezra...
When I wake up...or before I fall asleep...it will be March. I can't believe that the first 2 months of 2011 are gone already. It feels as though it's been a full year...and just a week at the same time.
As we welcome Spring and Lent and of course...my birthday...I've been doing some thinking. I started a journal again. While writing on here is cathartic for me...it's nothing compared to putting a pen to paper. To the feeling of physically getting words out of me. To watch my hand hold a pen and form words from my thoughts. The beauty of flowing and scrawling across an empty page.
The thoughts are random...at best...and much like what I end up writing in here.
As spring approaches...and my paranoia induced by insomnia is conquered for the minute...I'm feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time about my life. Not that I haven't been happy or content...but I've definitely had ups and downs in the first 2 months of this year. Today, though, I feel truly hopeful as to what the rest of the year may bring.
While there are always things that will need improvement...I'm actually working towards those things now. I have rejoined a gym. Started actively seeking a doctor I trust and like. Decided it's time to start therapy again (I soooooo hate this...but I know it'll be helpful in the long run). Putting in tons of hours at work... and finding joy in it. Attempting a social life. Reading. Eating better and drinking more water (I am sooooooooooooo bad about this sometimes). Cleaning up just a little every day. Organizing. Saving money when I can.
Just small, tiny things that seem insignificant...but will have a extraordinary impact on the rest of my year. And if I do it right...the rest of my life.
So I'm ready for spring...and March...and at least for tonight...I'm ready for the rest of the year.
And also...I'm ready for bed. Got to get a full 7 hours or I'll be cranky.
Sleep well...and be nice. And extraordinary...
I love Better Than Ezra...
When I wake up...or before I fall asleep...it will be March. I can't believe that the first 2 months of 2011 are gone already. It feels as though it's been a full year...and just a week at the same time.
As we welcome Spring and Lent and of course...my birthday...I've been doing some thinking. I started a journal again. While writing on here is cathartic for me...it's nothing compared to putting a pen to paper. To the feeling of physically getting words out of me. To watch my hand hold a pen and form words from my thoughts. The beauty of flowing and scrawling across an empty page.
The thoughts are random...at best...and much like what I end up writing in here.
As spring approaches...and my paranoia induced by insomnia is conquered for the minute...I'm feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time about my life. Not that I haven't been happy or content...but I've definitely had ups and downs in the first 2 months of this year. Today, though, I feel truly hopeful as to what the rest of the year may bring.
While there are always things that will need improvement...I'm actually working towards those things now. I have rejoined a gym. Started actively seeking a doctor I trust and like. Decided it's time to start therapy again (I soooooo hate this...but I know it'll be helpful in the long run). Putting in tons of hours at work... and finding joy in it. Attempting a social life. Reading. Eating better and drinking more water (I am sooooooooooooo bad about this sometimes). Cleaning up just a little every day. Organizing. Saving money when I can.
Just small, tiny things that seem insignificant...but will have a extraordinary impact on the rest of my year. And if I do it right...the rest of my life.
So I'm ready for spring...and March...and at least for tonight...I'm ready for the rest of the year.
And also...I'm ready for bed. Got to get a full 7 hours or I'll be cranky.
Sleep well...and be nice. And extraordinary...
2011/01/23
Before the Worst
Mood: still alive but barely breathing
You know who you are. Most people don't. A handful do. But you do. I thought I did. I'd like to think I still do. But I can't be sure.
I never thought I would do this. This blog is about nice things I do for myself. Not a public plea of a desperate woman with no other idea of how to get through to you. So here it is. My nice thing: a last ditch effort at grabbing your attention. Of letting you know I need you.
Because...you have my heart. I hate you for that most days. But the thing I hate the most? I don't want it back. I want it to be yours.
You tell me you are still with me...even when it doesn't seem so. You have no idea how true this is. You tell me you keep up with my tweets, my Facebook, my blog. I know the latter is true or you wouldn't have been jealous about my (non) date. You tell me you disappear. Life is busy. But you're still with me. And you are. I genuinely want you to be. I need you to know me. To love me. To care...even if you can't tell me you do with words.
And I tell you it's okay. And you tell me it's not. On some level we're both right. I...better than anyone...understand crawling into a hole. Withdrawing from life. From love. From the people that care the most. I understand busy. I understand family issues.
But I also understand the following:
You've played guitar for me. You learned some Taylor Swift for Caitlyn. You talk to my mother when you think I don't know. And sometimes I don't. You worry about my father. You have more confidence in me than I do myself. You once sent me the first conversation we ever had. That was 2 years ago. Our first conversation. You know better than most people how impatient I really am. 2 years ago.
For those of you that have continued reading when you know this isn't addressed to you...I'm sorry. My nice thing today is a selfish act. It's not inspiring. It's not a tangible feel good picture worthy act. It's simply a string of consciousness. It's my raw, unfiltered thoughts. It's bearing my heart. Being vulnerable. And if you know me well...you know my walls are always up.
If you know me...you know I rarely cry in front of anyone besides family. I don't talk about feelings in relationships beyond "I love you." I am not an open person in relationships. I guard what little left I have to give of my heart. And even then...I'm not sure I have any left...because I gave it to you.
I told you that YOU were The Only Exception and I meant it. You have seen parts of me that no other human being has. You have not seen my naked body...but you have seen me more exposed than I have ever been.
This is not to make you feel guilty. This is not to illicit a phone call...or an e-mail or a message. This is not with the intent that you hop a plane and come to Iowa.
This is simply me. Stripped. Telling you what I have to. Because until I am honest with myself...and you...I can't begin to move on. And I fear with every breath I take that this is what you want of me. What I fear more than that is that you tell me this because you think it's what's best for me. What's best for me is you. And not just you in a physical sense. You for who you are as you read this. I don't need tomorrow. I don't need next month. I don't need 3 months from now. But I need to be honest.
To tell you how you have hurt me. And how in spite of that...I love you. And not in the "I hope you're doing okay" way that some people feel for friends or lovers they've lost. I love you.
To tell you that I can't make your pain go away. And I can't even begin to fathom the losses you have suffered in the last 3 years. I was there. But I wasn't. I couldn't be. I did what I could. You did what you had to.
I can't take you back "before the worst." But I can be there. I can stand by you when the worst happens again.
You survived. You're still surviving. Stop punishing yourself. Allow yourself to learn to live. Know that not everything ends. Trust it's worth it to take risks again. You told me to..and here I am. Taking a risk. Trusting that somehow...even if I hear the absolute worst (or nothing at all)...I'll be happier knowing I found myself worthy enough to risk it all. Trust me. Trust us.
I do. And that's the nicest thing I've EVER done for myself.
You know who you are. Most people don't. A handful do. But you do. I thought I did. I'd like to think I still do. But I can't be sure.
I never thought I would do this. This blog is about nice things I do for myself. Not a public plea of a desperate woman with no other idea of how to get through to you. So here it is. My nice thing: a last ditch effort at grabbing your attention. Of letting you know I need you.
Because...you have my heart. I hate you for that most days. But the thing I hate the most? I don't want it back. I want it to be yours.
You tell me you are still with me...even when it doesn't seem so. You have no idea how true this is. You tell me you keep up with my tweets, my Facebook, my blog. I know the latter is true or you wouldn't have been jealous about my (non) date. You tell me you disappear. Life is busy. But you're still with me. And you are. I genuinely want you to be. I need you to know me. To love me. To care...even if you can't tell me you do with words.
And I tell you it's okay. And you tell me it's not. On some level we're both right. I...better than anyone...understand crawling into a hole. Withdrawing from life. From love. From the people that care the most. I understand busy. I understand family issues.
But I also understand the following:
You've played guitar for me. You learned some Taylor Swift for Caitlyn. You talk to my mother when you think I don't know. And sometimes I don't. You worry about my father. You have more confidence in me than I do myself. You once sent me the first conversation we ever had. That was 2 years ago. Our first conversation. You know better than most people how impatient I really am. 2 years ago.
For those of you that have continued reading when you know this isn't addressed to you...I'm sorry. My nice thing today is a selfish act. It's not inspiring. It's not a tangible feel good picture worthy act. It's simply a string of consciousness. It's my raw, unfiltered thoughts. It's bearing my heart. Being vulnerable. And if you know me well...you know my walls are always up.
If you know me...you know I rarely cry in front of anyone besides family. I don't talk about feelings in relationships beyond "I love you." I am not an open person in relationships. I guard what little left I have to give of my heart. And even then...I'm not sure I have any left...because I gave it to you.
I told you that YOU were The Only Exception and I meant it. You have seen parts of me that no other human being has. You have not seen my naked body...but you have seen me more exposed than I have ever been.
This is not to make you feel guilty. This is not to illicit a phone call...or an e-mail or a message. This is not with the intent that you hop a plane and come to Iowa.
This is simply me. Stripped. Telling you what I have to. Because until I am honest with myself...and you...I can't begin to move on. And I fear with every breath I take that this is what you want of me. What I fear more than that is that you tell me this because you think it's what's best for me. What's best for me is you. And not just you in a physical sense. You for who you are as you read this. I don't need tomorrow. I don't need next month. I don't need 3 months from now. But I need to be honest.
To tell you how you have hurt me. And how in spite of that...I love you. And not in the "I hope you're doing okay" way that some people feel for friends or lovers they've lost. I love you.
To tell you that I can't make your pain go away. And I can't even begin to fathom the losses you have suffered in the last 3 years. I was there. But I wasn't. I couldn't be. I did what I could. You did what you had to.
I can't take you back "before the worst." But I can be there. I can stand by you when the worst happens again.
You survived. You're still surviving. Stop punishing yourself. Allow yourself to learn to live. Know that not everything ends. Trust it's worth it to take risks again. You told me to..and here I am. Taking a risk. Trusting that somehow...even if I hear the absolute worst (or nothing at all)...I'll be happier knowing I found myself worthy enough to risk it all. Trust me. Trust us.
I do. And that's the nicest thing I've EVER done for myself.
2010/08/25
Legally...Half Blonde
Mood: blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
Today was not a pretty day. I woke up COMPLETELY awake before dawn all ready to go to the gym, and I could not get Caitlyn to wake up. I wasn't trying TOO hard because to be honest, the last thing I felt like doing was going to the gym before 6:00. I checked all my social networking sites (which is sadly the FIRST thing I do in the morning) and then took a little snooze until I absolutely HAD to get into the shower.
I'll skip the rest of my day. It included disappointment, disrespect, dehumanization, and a lot of other "D" words. So as I was on the phone with my mom (who is helping Cait and I move and I get to see in less than 2 weeks!!!!!!) she asked what nice thing I had done for myself today. I really couldn't answer. I did a few things that were nice...but nothing seemed to make me feel better.
I guess if I had to pick ONE thing that I did that made me feel better today it would be this:
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