New Perspective. Less Bull.

8 Mar

It’s been a few years since posting on here. I’m not sure if it’s because I didn’t feel I had much to offer, but whatever the reason was, this blog had faded from my mind.

It was very recently that my husband mentioned to me, “hey, I haven’t seen you update your blog in quite a while. You should get back to it.” I took a beat to process his thought and realized, “huh. I guess I do have some things to say.”

Life is so crazy and even when you think you may begin to figure things out, it becomes all the more confusing and unpredictable. My husband reminded me that I had a space that was my own. A place to process my thoughts and feelings…a journal of sorts that helped me process so many things in the past. Of course I’ve always hoped that I may help encourage, inspire or even just relate to someone else out there in the process.

So you know what? It’s time to write again. It’s time to capture how I feel, what’s going on and hopefully find resolve, peace and who knows what else. I’m choosing to use writing as my therapy once again and if you’re out there reading this…welcome! Enjoy the ride as I process my thoughts and feelings.

Looking back at old posts and remembering how thought out and deliberate my writing was, I would over analyze and rewrite things so that my words would be polished, clean and more or less positive. Many times, I would remove or correct the raw and emotional portions but I don’t want to do that anymore. I realize now I was more worried about the appearance rather then the reality and truth. My truth.

So moving forward, I won’t promise wonderfully written, well thought out pieces. Some may be scatterbrained and incoherent. Hopefully they will be filled with raw thoughts and emotions. Relatable and less “tied up with a bow”. I don’t want to force inspiration or doctor up a more positive perspective within a post if it simply is not there that day.

Hopefully, once in a while, I’ll stumble into some gems that help not only myself but possibly someone else out there looking for their voice as well.

I’m ready to be vulnerable.



22 Apr

Today I have felt the shadow of past tragedies and traumas chilling my bones. After a few weeks of feeling stable, focused and positive about the future, today I grieve.

I know these waves of sadness from the past will come and go. I am trying to learn and grow, realizing how drastically different things are now, in both good and challenging ways.

The past cannot be undone. Horrors cannot be unseen. Pain and heartache fade but the scarring will always be there.

I’m sitting in it all today. Letting myself see and feel everything. I’ve been pushing it off as of late. Protecting myself and avoiding feelings. I know I cannot do this forever, so today, with a calming strength, I’m facing it.


9 Apr

My therapist warned me, that even when things are going well, the lows will still come. This is normal for trauma recovery. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t fuckin suck.

Things have truly been going pretty well. Our move was a stressful success, unpacking is 85% done, my hubby is consistent with his meds (I hope this is true) and work has been going pretty well. All that being said, I feel like my soul has faded and lost it’s resilience.

Right now, I have so many feelings that I know I am justified to feel but I know there is little truth to the feelings.

I’m feeling burnt out and the pity party in my head rages on. I am angry, selfish and dark inside. I am resentful. Oh boy am I resentful. And my empathy? Psh! Who needs it.

This isn’t me. This is not my true self. I’m in coping mode. I’m trying to survive.

I want to not be at work and relaxing but I also do not want to be at home. I want to hide in a hotel room, no one to be concerned about but myself, get into some comfy clothes, eat something epic and spend the rest of the day binging on Netflix, playing a game or two and napping.

How did I get here? My life does not feel like my own. I don’t recognize myself, my home, my husband, my family…I just need everything to stop, shut up and let me be.

F*ck Change

27 Mar
One of my biggest struggles is change. Overall, I`m a pretty easy going person, always down for suggestions and understanding and conscious of others. Once those plans are made though? I`m not good with modifications. Especially drastic changes.
The problem with this is, it can make me seem like a controlling, unrealistic person for getting so upset about a change, however, it is rarely based on a negative feeling about the change itself or the people potentially involved. 9 times out of 10, my anxieties are triggered by change, stemming from my childhood of not feeling I have a voice and that my thoughts and feelings hold little to no importance and have no impact. I go into a tailspin, feeling disrespected, small and like I have lost control of the situation.
This is amplified when others know about the change before me. Again, makes me seem hella controlling and unrealistic, but my baggage from my past leaves me feeling vulnerable,weak and honestly, makes me feel like a child left out of the adult decisions or discussions It is something I have been aware of and working on over the last decade, but it still effects me far more then I’d like.
These past months, specifically the past week, has challenged my shaky ability to embrace change. I was doing better then expected with the initial major changes. The changes in my husbands health. The changes in my health. Family being a help one day and a hindrance the next. Having to downsize from our current home to a smaller apartment in order to stay afloat. Dates changing weekly for move out and move in dates.
I could go on and on, but my point being, there have been many changes and I have been handling them as well as can be expected, however it all reached a boiling point last night.
I returned home last night after a long day at work, hoping to relax a bit in between helping my husband with the packing and organizing. Instead, I came home to a chaotic mess. Our current landlord has contractors in the home, patching up walls and tearing out carpets. The house is now not only a mess from arranging and organizing in preparation for the move, but it is now a construction zone. I fell apart.
We had terms we had agreed to. The basement was empty so painting could begin there and two other rooms we were not using. The rest would have to be done once we were out. There was no discussion of carpets being ripped out before we were out. As they say though, you give an inch..
My husband listened as I vented about everything, broke down about the loss of control in general and how I feel like we’ve been taken advantage of.
The long and the short of all of it is, during these past 6 or 7 months, I have felt so exposed. As a generally private person, having so many details on display for family, friends and strangers to be a part of has been extremely difficult for me. That is not to say I am ashamed or embarrassed by anything going on, I simply like to be able to process things privately, either by myself or with my husband and choose what we share with others. The fact that there really has been little to no opportunity to decide what is exposed and what isn’t.
The good, bad and ugly is currently on full display. Unwelcome opinions and criticism is constant. Not only do we have little to no control over much of what we are currently going through, I feel like I`m losing control of any privacy and choice.
We are coming to the final few days of our current residence and I just keep telling myself that by this time next week, one thing will be off of our plate. I just pray that we have a break. A beat to catch our breath and have even just a week of predictability.
I’m anxious, vulnerable and just plain sad. 
Does anyone out there have any suggestions of what works to ground you? Any minor aspects of control I can create or focus on in the meantime? Let me know. The ground under me feels so unstable and I just need something to hang onto. Something that will give me a little stability and peace. 


Scared and Isolated

24 Mar

These past 6+ months have been a challenge to say the very least. Hospitals, doctors, specialists, medications, mood swings, good days, bad days…really bad days, it’s all been at neck breaking speed.

Today we began our move to a new home. Drastically downsizing, as we are living off of one pay check for the foreseeable future and have many debts to repay, accumulated through the medical challenges we’ve been facing.

Adrenaline is an amazing thing. Cortisol helping me push through every massive challenge that lands in front of us. No time to stop and really think about what has transpired.

I cannot stop because I’m afraid I may never stand up again. I may crumble into a pile of heartache and despair. It is not yet time to grieve what was, the hell we’ve lived and the future we thought we were close to. Instead, it’s now a future we’re rebuilding for.

There is no time to stop and mend all the wounds. Shotty patches and bandaids will do until we are through the other side on solid ground.

But the bandaid’s adhesive is dissolving. The splints are breaking down. My spirit is crushed and my heart is screaming.

We are saying goodbye to so much. We are saying goodbye to our first home as a married couple. This was not the plan.

This was when we were hoping to be starting a family. It is a distant thought and my throat tightens when I think about how far off we are from that right now.

We were suppose to be a young couple, enjoying what life had to offer. Going out for dinner, spoiling ourselves by saving towards wish list items and travelling. Now, we find joy in the little victories. Our reality now is having a little extra money (this month) to splurge on buying a box of cereal.

Don’t get me wrong, a lot of good is beginning to come to light, but on this Saturday evening, laying in the dark, boxes and belongings strewn about, I can’t help but feel the gravity of it all.

I miss my husbands smile and witty charm. I miss seeing him as himself. I love this home and it tears me up to walk away. It’s not fair that disease doesn’t care who you are, what your struggle is and what your plans were. It’s a monster that creeps up and dismantles all you were sure of.

I want to cry. I can feel it. My skin crawls and the muscles in my throat tremble. I can feel it festering, boiling inside of me. But I can’t let it out. I can’t break down.

I’m afraid of what it may mean or could do.

I’m afraid it will negatively effect my husband. I’m afraid of finding out what else may be hiding inside of me, screaming to be exposed. I don’t want to say anything I don’t truly believe. I don’t want to add to the pile of crap. I’m afraid I won’t get up again. I’m afraid there is no one else around right now strong enough to carry me.

My thoughts and emotions feel like a lethal weapon. If I let any of them out, they will tear through and ruin all in their path. It’s far too dangerous. I cannot afford to stop. We can not afford for me to stop. I’m so physically and emotionally spent, but stopping holds so many repercussions that we simply cannot afford (in more ways than one).

My husband is too precious to me. I love him so deeply and unconditionally. I know once he’s stronger, we will be a united front. But for now, I need to protect him and help him as he grows stronger. My time will come later.

For now, just like my thoughts and emotions, I am tucked away in the dark, hoping for another dose of strength for tomorrow.

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